#bradley topgun smut

[warnersister]

Personal Space

Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x reader

Summary: you love your personal space. Unfortunately, Bradley also loves your personal space.

Pt. 2

You never understood why Bradley stuck around. Since the academy you’d preferred to stick to yourself; get your head down and get the job done. Especially with a surname like Mitchell. You didn’t want your father and grandfather’s reputation to negatively proceed you, and by the time people had put two and two together as to whom loins you came from: you’d made your own reputation so Maverick never made much of a difference to it.

But still, having dinner in the mess you’d sat down, when someone came and thudded down next to you and began eating themselves. “I’m Bradley” he said when you finally looked up at him. You raised a brow “Bradshaw?” You ask and he nods: you recognise him from the photos your dad pinned up in your two’s hanger. You hum “and you are?” He asks “not important.” You reply, deciding you’d lost your appetite and stood to clear your plate “good talk!” Bradley said, but you were already walking away.

He’d next encountered you when you were running around the academy, early morning; before any naval training would take place. He hummed and decided it was perfectly acceptable to interrupt your jaunt with his presence. “Hey! Up so early?” He asks as he tries to match your pace from a standstill “could ask you the same.” You reply bluntly “well I wanted to get a run in before-” “well there’s your answer.” You reply, cutting him off. “You run really quick.” He says as you try to keep your pace increasing to shake him off “goodbye, Bradshaw.” You say, pulling your sunglasses over your eyes and taking off at a pace he couldn’t sustain. He just stops and shakes his head smiling, you were funny.

Eventually, you’d both gotten up in the air and were quick to earn your callsigns “Rooster” and “Hen”. Bradley earned his because he was up before the chickens, you’d earned yours because the chicken kept fucking following you around like you were his mother. You were sat on the aircraft carrier, your trainee group learning how to land on a ship deck and you’d finally gotten a moment of peace that evening. You sat on the edge of the deck, feet dangling over the edge as you watched the sunset, not moving when you hear someone slip into the space between the barriers beside you.

“Oh look my chick is back.” You mumble sarcastically and Bradley laughs loudly at you. “You love me really” he says, looking at you as if he wanted to you agree with him “you seem to keep telling yourself that, don’t you?” You hum, turning to watch the sea lap against the grey metal. You can feel him fidgeting beside you, as if antsy to say something. “What?” You ask, finally turning to look at him. “What?” He repeats, looking at you with raised brows “you want to ask me something. You’re fidgeting.” You point out “so ask me or fuck off” you say, turning away again. “Your last name is Mitchell” he says and you roll your eyes “you can read and hear. Two things I’ve learnt today.” You huff, again, with sarcasm. “Are you related to Pete Mitchell?” He asks, looking at you and nearly holding his breath “you finally put two and two together?” You ask and he lets out the breath.

“Yeah, he’s my dad.” You say after a while “I was a whoopsie baby my mother didn’t want anything to do with” you tell him. “He used to fly with my dad.” Bradley almost whispers, voice just a few octaves above. “I know” you nod “he’s practically wallpapered all over our hanger.” You say “so are you” you eye him. “He pulled my papers” he says, again after a few moments of silence “I know” you say “do you know why?” He asks “yes.” You reply, and he could tell you weren’t going to elaborate. “Y’know I’m not a fan of your dad, but I really like you.” He says and you just look at him with a blank face. “Yup” you hum to yourself and he raises a brow “just as Mother Goose was described” you say, and Bradley’s face immediately lights up with a huge grin, stretching and arm around you and pulling you into his side.

“Get off me.” “Yup, yep, sorry.”

For your first deployment, the academy set it up that you’d at least be with one person from your training squadron, and today the list of names were coming out; they were scribbled on the back of a napkin and pinned to a notice board.

“1. Haywood & Solomons, 2. Hughes & Shelley & Omaha, 3. Cooper & Parker & Cromwell & Smith, 4. Bradshaw,” you crossed your fingers as someone read out the names, then yours was read alongside Bradley’s “oh for god’s sake” you grumble, turning to see Bradley practically jumping for joy. “This is great! Me and you, Hen!” Rooster cheers and you just stare at him “should’ve called you leech cause you’re acting like one. Calm down.” You instruct and he tries to chill out, but the cheeky smile on his face was indiminishagble.

He only became more unbearable then, with you every working hour, your wingman on the missions you’d fly, inseparable despite your complaints. “Where’s your boyfriend?” Hawk asked you, as he came to sit with you for lunch. You shush him loudly. “Woah woah I only asked where he was.” “Speak his name and he shows up. I’m trying to hide.” you say in a hushed voice “plus he isn’t my boyfriend” “sure” he scoffs but the daggers being shot into his head silenced him easily.

“Hey Hen! Hawk” Bradley greets as he sits down. You grunt and point an accusatory finger at Hawk “this is your fault, jackass” you say and he laughs at you, him and Bradley engage in conversation as you just eat, having learnt the skill of drowning him out. “What about you, Hen?” Hawk asked, drawing your attention away from your plate and up to the two men alongside you, you raise an eyebrow - letting them know you were insinuating that you weren’t listening to their conversation.

“Do you want a family?” He ask and you just nod “really?” Hawk asks “that’s cute, didn’t take you for a family gal” he jokes and you harshly kick his leg under the table “kids and everything?” He asks after the pain subsides. “Yup.” You say and Bradley hums “I didn’t know that” he says and you just look at him “you never asked.” You reply simply, and that was true: he hadn’t. He was quite prepared to spend the rest of existence chasing after you, whether that meant giving you your first kiss on your deathbeds.

The two of you even went to Top Gun together, training to be the finest naval aviators of them all. And boy, you two fought to be the best; tongue and teeth, blood sweat and tears, everything. The decision came down to one final dogfight. “May the best aviator win” Rooster jokes, sticking out a hand to you. You eye it and internally question if you were insane, before leaning up to peck his cheek. “Prepare to loose, chicken.” You say, leaving him frozen in his place while you head to your plane. That day, Bradley was seriously off his A-game, and you came out on top.

A Mitchell finally Top Gun.

“Congratulations!” Bradley says excitedly on graduation day when you victoriously lifted the trophy above your head. You turned to him and he leant down slightly - you weren’t stupid, you knew what he was intending to do. “Thank you, Brad.” You say, turning to walk over to where your father was stood - knowing that was probably the only time Bradley wouldn’t follow you. That was the first time you’d ever called him anything short of Bradley Bradshaw.

“I’m so proud of you honey” your dad says, hugging you tightly and you embrace him back, smiling widely “thank you, dad” you respond and he looks behind you where Bradley was stood a while back, watching the ordeal. “Is that-” “yes” you tell him and your dad just looks at you “I wouldn’t get all teary he follows me like a lost puppy” you grumble but he just grins “he’s a good kid, hon.” He says and you shake your head “he’s definitely something”

“So how does their relationship work?” Bob asks Hangman, watching Bradley talk your ear off and you just staring ahead into space, blankly. “You see Bobby my boy,” Jake begins “Hen loves her personal space” Bob nods “Rooster also loves Hen’s personal space.” Bob nods again, now understanding. “Haven’t they done everything together though?” He asks “I think it’s more the fact that Hen does something and Rooster just kinda goes with it” Phoenix said and Bob hums, as Bradley continues to converse one-sidedly with you.

“He means well” you hear from beside you as you stare out from the hanger, turning to see your honorary uncle Tom walking towards you, you run towards him as he embraces you tightly “hey Ice” you smile, sweetly. “Hey sweetheart” he croaks. “I mean what I said.” He states and you raise a brow “he means well” he nods towards the man doing his required push ups on the ground with Hondo. “I know, Ice.” You tell him. “No, I don’t think you do” he hums and you raise your eyebrows at him. “The kids in love with you. You’ve either got to let him in or tell him to get out.” He says, “you’re living together for goodness sake”. “It was cheaper” you argue “we both know the accommodation is subsidised.” He states, matter-of-factly, patting your shoulder as he turns to go talk to your dad when he walks into the room.

It was true, you and Bradley were sharing accommodation. “Hey Hen, they’ve offered us shared accommodation back in Miramar” Bradley says, coming over with a pamphlet. “Why?” You ask, taking it out of his hands. ‘Married couple accommodation’ it states and you raise your brows “you getting ahead of yourself, Bradshaw?” You ask and he shakes his head “the guy assumed our callsigns were cause we’re a couple” he tells you and you just hum. “Well I’d rather stay there than in an apartment.” You say simply, giving him back the leaflet and refocusing on the plane you were working on repairing. “Seriously?” He asks, voice overly hopeful. You look at him and shrug “just go get the damn house, Bradshaw. Before I change my mind!” You say and he grins, turning and breaking out into almost a jog to head to confirm your living situation.

You take a moment of hesitation, before loudly groaning and heading out onto the tarmac, getting down and doing push ups alongside Rooster. He turns his head and looks at you and you just raise your brows at him. “Hey honey” he grins “hello Bradley” he nudges your hip with his own. “I’ll drive us home.” You tell him, and he raises his eyebrows “Home?” He asks and you huff “okay, Bradley I will drive the two of us back to our shared accommodation that we accidentally got given.” You say and he laughs loudly “home sounded better.”

Then after the mission, the whole Dagger squad got permanently stationed in San Diego, other than deployment, so they urged the new additions to the base to buy their own properties closer to base rather than on it. You and Bradley were sat in the Hard Deck, a long time before it was open, the rest of the Daggers spending time on the beach while the two of you were scouring Bradley’s laptop for a property. Well, Bradley was.

How about this one? He turns his screen to you. You shake your head “I want grass in the garden. I want to plant flowers” you say as you point at the paved back of the house, explaining that it’s a waste of money to have it ripped out. Bradley nods “Mkay, garden” he says, moving back to look again.

“How about this one? Beach front, close to the running track for you. Only a walk from the Hard Deck. White picket fence, really” he hums, turning the laptop again “garden?” You ask and he nods “garden.” He nods with a grin. “Shall we go look?” You ask and he raises a brow at you. “You said it’s a walk from the hard deck. Let’s go.” You say, putting the address into your phone and immediately recognising the street name, Bradley quickly falling into step with you as you walk towards the property.

You look at it and place your hands on your hips. Bradley was right. Pretty damn perfect. “Can I help you?” A lady asks, walking outside of the house, clipboard in hand. “Oh no, we’d just seen this property online and wanted to take a look.” Bradley tells her. “Well I’ve had a no-show on a viewing. How’d you like to take a look?” She suggests, motioning to the open door. “Okay” you nod, following her into the house.

“Obviously the kitchen, living room, even a deck out back with a huge garden and high fences” she says nodding out the window and you hum. “Out the side there’s an entrance straight to the beach” she motions, then starts heading up the stairs “three bedrooms, attic space, bathroom” she says “I’m guessing it’s just you two at the moment?” She asks “oh we’re not-” Bradley begins “yes, just us.” You confirm, shutting him up. “Okay, so there’s a large room for your bed and then if any new additions are to join, you have the space for them” she smiles and leads you back out front.

“It’s not cheap, it’s California. So I understand if you’re not prepared to pay that much money, do you mind me asking what you do?” She asks “we’re naval aviators.” Bradley says “stationed here?” She asks and you both nod “ah! I get why you’re looking for a property here!” She says and Bradley looks at you. “I really like it, Roo.” You say, and Bradley has to stop his jaw hitting the floor at your nickname. “It’s your call, honey” he says and you look at the lady and smile as she offers her hand “we’ll take it.”

“How shall we split the payment?” You ask Bradley as you walk back to the Hard Deck after organising a meeting with the realtor to actually finalise all the kinks and bumps. “I don’t mind doing the down payment then we’ll take it in turn paying the loan” he suggests “we can get a joint bank account and do it that way” you say and he agrees as you settle back into your seats at the Hard Deck. “Where’ve you two been?” Hangman asks “we bought a house.”

One evening, after you were all moved in and were hanging out at the Hard Deck after a long day or routine flying, you were sat outside with Rooster; watching the sunset. “When are we getting married then?” You ask and he spits out his beer “what?” He asks, eyes wide and getting progressively more giddy. “Well we live together, we have a joint bank account, and Jake keeps telling me we’re practically married. So when are we getting married?” You ask as he hugs you tightly “whenever you want, baby” he says, kissing the top of your head and pulling a ring out of his pocket to get on his knee. “Will you marry me?” He asks and you raise a brow “didn’t I just say that?” You ask bluntly “just say yes, please” he begs and you nod “yes. Yes I will marry you, Bradley Bradshaw.” You confirm as he kisses your lips gently.

“Okay get off of me now.”

Pt. 2

[sometimesanalice]

Between Friends

Summary: Bradley and you don’t talk about that Spring Break. But a single question asked during a night out at the Hard Deck might just change things between the two of you forever.

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 11K

Warning: smut (including loss of virginity), brief mention of underage drinking, and college!bradley in a backwards hat

(Author's note: Happy Birthday Jordan! I wrote this just for you! Look at me keeping secrets from you! Enjoy!)

𝐍𝐎𝐖

Rooster couldn’t control his bouncing leg.

That night at the Hard Deck had started out like any other: good music, good drinks, good people. Over the course of the evening, he’d found himself seated between you and Bob in a lopsided circle with the rest of the Daggers around a few tall tables that had been pushed together just shooting the shit.

It was all fun and games until swapping stories about embarrassing middle school moments turned into cringing over first kiss stories turned into Seresin grinning like a shark asking about how everyone’s first time went down.

Rooster felt his pulse kick up with every collective laugh and groan as his friends went one by one sharing how they’d lost their virginities. Because with each passing story, it meant that you were one person closer to going. And for the first time in his life- even after over two decades of friendship- he didn’t know what your answer was going to be.

So he is just as shocked as his teammates are when you tentatively reveal, “So, um, my first time was with Rooster.” He doesn’t miss the way all his friends’ heads snap towards him. 

All eyes are on the two of you, and you’re pointedly looking anywhere but him.

Rooster had been anxiously waiting to hear the story of your first official time, the one that was with someone who wasn’t him. He didn’t realize that you still considered him your first.  He’d figured that part of your history had long been overwritten by whoever had been lucky enough to catch your eye and make your heart race in a romantic way.

The two of you had never talked about it in the after.

Not once, not ever.

He didn’t care that people knew, he just wasn’t expecting it.

Jake starts the group out of its stunned silence by slapping a heavy hand on top of the table, nearly sending some bottles to the floor, “I knew it! I knew y’all couldn’t have been friends all this time and not have tried it out at least once.”

“Jesus Christ, dude, chill,” Javy mutters. He’s always been the better of the two about reading the room.

Trying to spare you from being put on the spot even more than you already were now, Rooster mumbles through the way he’d lost his to a girl from his AP Econ class after a playoff baseball game.

He stares at the way you’re nervously picking at the label of the Blue Moon he’d grabbed for you when he went to get a refill of his own. He can practically hear the way your brain is buzzing. He wonders if you wish you could take back the words from where they are sitting on the table with the collection of bottles and peanut shells for everyone to see.

Bob being the team player that he is starts talking about how he’d lost his one summer in college to another camp counselor, going into more detail than he’s ever given before, probably trying to redirect the attention to himself to give the two of you a moment to regroup.

Rooster makes a mental note to tell Penny to put all of Bob’s cream sodas from now on on his own tab.

He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do here. Or where to look. Or where to put his hands. He wants to talk to you, but there’s no good way for him to go about it without drawing even more attention to the two of you.

You were supposed to be going on a first date tonight, but he’d talked you into canceling to hang out with him instead. He likes having all of your attention on him. And maybe he’s been a little selfish with you, because he doesn’t like to share you with anyone else. You’ve always been his best friend.

Rooster likes that he gets to talk to you whenever he wants now, and that it doesn’t feel like a never-ending game of catch up anymore. In the year since the Uranium mission, he’d felt like all the fragmented pieces of his life had finally come together. He’d reconnected with Mav, he was living in the same city as his best friend, and he had a place he could finally call home.

He didn’t just want the highlights with you, he wanted everything in between too. There’s no more distance due to time zones and scheduling times to call because now you only live 20 minutes away from him. And the next time he comes home from a deployment, he knows he’ll get to look forward to seeing you there waiting for him.

He feels like he’s learned so much more about the grown-up version of you over the last year than he has in the last ten.

Jake jumps in barely a breath after Bob finishes telling his story. “Well, we all know it’s not the first who matters, but who was the best.” Rooster doesn’t trust the gleam in his eyes or the sharp smile on his face. “Since Bradshaw cut you off before, how’s about you go first this time, darlin’. You can tell us about who knocked your socks off. Maybe this time he’ll let you finish, if you know what I mean.”

It’s thinly veiled snooping disguised as chivalry, and it doesn’t fool anyone. Nat’s eyes dart to him briefly, trying to get a read on him.

He’d been 21 at the time. And while he knows more now that he did then, he also knows his name isn’t going to be coming out of your mouth for a second time tonight.

Rooster takes a sip of his beer, needing something to do.

He knows you’ve been with other people. You’d lived with your ex for over a couple years, for fuck's sake. But it was like an unspoken agreement between the two of you to not talk about your sex lives with each other.

His leg starts bouncing again and he realizes he really doesn’t want to hear this. Not because of his ego, but because he doesn’t know what to do about the knot that’s formed in his stomach.

Your mouth opens and closes a couple times before you speak, “That title would also go to Rooster.” The admission is soft, but sure. 

Where his heart had been pounding before, now it feels like it had stopped completely.

It’s been 13 years since that Spring Break. 13 years and he’s still your best?

Barely five minutes ago, he hadn’t known where to look. But now? Now he couldn’t stop staring at you.

He just didn’t understand why you still wouldn’t look at him back.

𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊, 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟎

When you’d floated the idea by Bradley about visiting him at UVA for Spring Break during your weekly phone call, you’d been braced for the disappointment of him already having plans. It was his Senior year, it wouldn’t surprise you if he wanted to go out with a bang and make the most of it. Especially since he would belong to the Navy soon enough.

But he’d taken you by surprise when he started enthusiastically listing off all the places he wanted to show you, planning out your trip like a well-seasoned travel agent before you’d even booked a plane ticket.

You’d started looking up airfare before you’d even hung up the phone. And thirty minutes later you had a confirmation email flagged in your inbox after elatedly charging that aisle seat to the credit card you only used for emergencies.

It had been close to a year since you’d last seen him. He usually spent his Winter Break with your family, but this year he’d stayed on campus for the holidays and it was the longest the two of you had ever been apart since you’d first met him when you were 8.

And maybe that’s why it took you so long to spot him in the Arrivals area of the Charlottesville-Albemarle Airport.

You’ve always prided yourself in being able to pick Bradley out of a crowd anywhere, but in your cursory glance you hadn’t recognized the tall, broad guy with the UVA shirt pulled taut across his chest and wearing a baseball hat backward on his head. It wasn’t until your third searching pass that you’d caught the lips that were quirked up in amusement and those familiar brown eyes trained on you as he leaned ever-so-casually against the faux wood paneling on the wall waiting for you to notice him.

He’d filled out in the months since you’d last seen him. He was more toned than you remembered him being with definition in places where there hadn’t been before. His face had more distinct angles and less baby fat cushioned curves. Still a bit boyish, but he was well on his way to looking like a man.

Bradley raised his hand like he was going to wave, but then he’d mimicked casting a fishing line in your direction and reeling it in. And it was so endearingly stupid- so him- that you couldn’t help but take the bait and made your way towards him with the biggest grin on your face.

You’d ignored the jittery flutter in your stomach as you’d weaved between people and luggage. You’ve never been nervous around your best friend before. There was something that had on your mind a lot as the days to your visit inched closer, but you’d shoved that out of your mind, because you were finally standing in front of him in person for the first time in months. 

“Hey, kid,” he’d greeted you, taking your bag, “Charlottesville must have known you were coming, because she’s going to be sunny for you all week.” As soon as you were within arm’s reach, he tugged you right into his chest for a hug. You could feel the unspoken I missed you in the way he squeezed you just that bit tighter before releasing you.

Then he was dropping an arm over your shoulders and steering you towards the exit and driving you into town in the beat-up car he’d bought after selling his prized Montero, the car that Mav had given him for his birthday.

You’re only there for a week and Bradley doesn’t waste a single moment of it.

After dropping your things off in his dorm room, he takes you straight to campus where he gives you the Official Bradley Bradshaw Certified UVA Tour. He buys you lunch from one of the food trucks in the Amphitheater “for sustenance” before taking you to see the highlights. You start with the Rotunda and then the academic village, making a special pitstop at the Whispering Wall for you to tell it a secret. And then he takes you on a more historical tour, like showing you the exact route he used to streak The Lawn and pointing out the place he’d puked after his 21st birthday.

It’s clear he’d put so much thought into your visit because it seems like there is never a down moment. By the end of the third day you’re more surprised that you don't wake up every morning with a printed itinerary on your pillow.

He sneaks you into the Slaughter Rec Center to rock climb, claiming he had a person on the inside with the right connections. But really from what you could tell, the pretty girl at the check-in counter clearly had a crush on him. He takes you to the batting cages he likes to go to before Dead Week, and spends the time there equal parts making fun of your power swing and trying to fix it.

You get your revenge the next day standing outside of the imposing columns and massive doors to the Fralin Art Museum. Skeptically eyeing the sculpture in the front of the building that kind of looked like a giant wisdom tooth, you mentioned, “I didn’t realize you’d become such a patron of the cultural arts.”

“Hey now, I like artsy shit,” he’d said, only mildly affronted.

You snorted at that. “Is there an exhibit on beer pong and blunt rolling you wanted to see?” Through the window you’d spotted some large landscape oil paintings in ornate gilded frames and carved marble busts of what you assumed were probably of some of the Founding Fathers.

“You just missed that one, it was last month,” Bradley lobbed back, opening the door for you.

“What a pity,” you’d said with a dramatic sigh, “Guess we’ll have to settle for some tasteful nudes instead.”

“If we’re lucky,” he’d muttered under his breath, as you passed under his arm.

And then you’d felt the corners of your mouth kick up.

Turning around you’d pressed your finger to his chest, whispering so the person behind the ticket desk didn’t hear you, “Twenty bucks says you don’t make it thirty minutes in there.”

He narrowed his eyes, taking in your sly grin, “You’re on, kid.”

It’s the easiest $20 you’ve ever made.

The two of you call it a truce only after he tips your kayak into the still chilly Rivanna River.

Later that night, he takes you to a party on “Mad Bowl” that one of his frat friends was hosting. The backyard was all strung up with red and green Christmas lights like they had been too lazy to take them down after the holidays and decided it added to the outdoor ambiance instead of packing them away.

He was still just as protective over you as he was back in high school. Spending the whole night keeping an eye on you and handing you drinks that he’d uncapped himself using the opener that he had on his keychain, the one that still had the little fighter jet charm you’d given him ages ago dangling from it.

The days pass all too quickly as he shows you all of his favorite spots.

You knew UVA wasn’t where he’d originally wanted to be- where he thought he’d be- but you were happy that he seemed happy here.

But in between the late-night microwave ramen and movie watching and crossing off all the things on Bradley’s Spring Break To-Do List, there’d been something you’d been wanting to talk to him about. But you were having so much fun with him, you’d missed your best friend over those long months apart, and you didn’t want to ruin the time you had left with him here.

It lingered at the back of your mind like a phantom hair that you can feel, but can’t ever seem to brush off no matter how many times you attempt to. You felt like you were waiting for the right time that you weren’t sure would ever come. And if you were being honest, you weren’t entirely sure you would even be brave enough to ask if the time came.

The two of you had woken up way before the sun this morning.

If anyone other than Bradley had asked you to wake up before 5 AM to go hike to watch the sunrise, you would have laughed at them. But because it was Bradley, you’d set the alarm without comment. Even though he did have to gently pry you out of his roommate’s bed- with the fresh sheets he told you he bought especially for your visit- and lace up your shoes for you.

The views at Humpback Rock had been worth the hour hike up to the outcrop of craggy rocks. The sunrise painted them a stunning shade of soft orange as the rays illuminated evergreen covered hills and valleys that extended in front of you to the skyline. You and Bradley watched it in silence, shoulders pressed against each other  as you took it all in.

You’re cozied up on your bed for the week, flipping through a book you’d brought with you, but hadn’t touched at all until now when Bradley comes back from the showers. His hair is still damp and the ends are starting to curl a bit.  

He drops a Styrofoam cup of coffee on the nightstand next to you.

You hadn’t been sure what rooming with him would be like, the two of you together 24/7 since his roommate had left to go home for the break.  But it felt like you were two kids at sleepaway camp getting away with mischief rather than two broke college students only pretending to get away with mischief.

He sits down at the edge of his bed, his elbows resting on his thighs, “So.”

“So?” you repeat, blowing on the hot coffee before taking a sip.

“Are you going to tell me what’s been up with you?”

You wince, and it’s not because the coffee tastes like tar. 

“What do you mean?” you try to ask casually.

Bradley gives you a look that says you don’t fool me, kid. “You’ve been squirrely. I didn’t want to press it, but I can tell there’s something on your mind.” He takes a sip of his own milky battery acid. “Are classes going better since you switched majors?”

You nod, looking anywhere else other than at him.

“How are things with your Dad?”

You offer him a shrug.

He sighs your name in exasperation. You can tell he is trying to tamper his frustration at your lack of cooperation.

“Is it a guy?” Bradley tries again.

You swear you feel your heart stop, because you knew what you wanted to ask him, but you didn’t know how he was going to take it.

You fiddle with a string on his roommate’s comforter. “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about,” you admit, tentatively, “But I’m nervous.”

Bradley’s eyebrows pull together as he sets his coffee aside, “C’mon, it’s just me. You can talk to me about anything.”

“It’s more of a question.” One you’re still deflecting from asking.

“Ok, well you know you can ask me anything.” His tiny dorm room feels even smaller as the two of you try to read the other’s face.

Taking a deep breath, you ask the question that’s been rattling around in your brain for weeks.

“Bradley, I was wondering if you’d be my first?”

Less than ten words. That’s all it takes to tilt Bradley’s world off its axis.

He’s loved getting to show you around UVA this week. It wasn’t where he thought he’d end up, but he hadn’t lost sight of where he was going. He was going to be a Naval Aviator one way or another. He just also got to have a normal college experience too, one he’d been excited to share with you.

Bradley had originally been invited to go stay with one of his friends at his family’s beach house, but when you called and asked about coming to visit Charlottesville, it was an easy choice for him. He’d pick you every time.

It had been even better getting to cross off some of the things on the bucket list he’d made for his Senior Year with you in tow, like the hike he’d taken you on this morning.

He loves the views from up there and thought it would be something you’d like too, but he’d never done the hike early enough to catch the sunrise before. It was actually something he was planning on going the morning of graduation as a symbolic way to end his time at UVA, but getting to do it with you was special in its own way.

And while he’d caught you lost in thought more than a few times over the last few days as he showed you around, he never in a million years would have ever expected you to ask him that.

Bradley knows all the words you just used, but they don’t make sense to him in that order.

His brain is working in overdrive trying to figure out if there is any possible way he could have misinterpreted you.

“Your first…”

You take another deep breath and tip your chin up in resolve before looking him dead in the eye, there’s so much vulnerability reflected in them, “I haven’t had sex before, Bradley. And I’m really hoping that my first time can be with you.”

Bradley wants to tell you to put your Styrofoam cup down because he’s worried the tight grip you have on it might crush it, but he feels like the wind has been knocked out of him.

He didn’t realize when his leg started bouncing until he sees you glance down at it.

Shooting to his feet and off his bed, he goes to lean against his recently decluttered desk. There’s too much restless energy coursing through him to just sit like he isn’t completely reeling. 

“Shouldn’t you want to do this with someone special? Like with rose petals and all that shit?” He scrubs a hand over his face. Rose petals and all that shit? God, he sounds like such a fucking dumbass, but he’s struggling to keep up.

And if he’s being entirely honest, he’s pretty surprised to learn you’re still a virgin. Not that there’s anything wrong with it, but he knows you’ve had at least one serious boyfriend since you’ve gone to college. He figured that you got asked out all the time. He saw the way that some of the guys in his buddy’s frat were looking at the pretty girl with the dimples and big smile.

The girl who just asked him to be her first.

He hates the way your shoulders have slumped forward, like you’re trying not to cave in on yourself, “So, you don’t want to?”

“I didn’t say that.” His answer takes him by surprise.

The only other sound in the room other than his pounding heart is the whir of the air circulating in his dorm. 

“Would it help to make a pro con list?” you offer, less than helpfully with a little shrug.

“Jesus Christ,” Bradley mutters under his breath, looking up at the speckled ceiling trying to decode the flecks like tea leaves. “She’s cracking jokes like she didn’t ask me to make her come.”

“Technically, I didn’t say anything about that. I just asked you to be my first.”

“I’m not taking your virginity and not giving you an orgasm,” he states, and your eyes get wide. He runs his hands through his hair. “Sex makes things complicated, kid. We’ve got a good friendship.”

You sit up straighter on his roommate’s bed and bring your knees to your chest. It exposes the backs of your thighs and he has to shake the mental images of skin on skin out of his head.

There’s a look on your face that tells him you feel ridiculous even asking him, “Do you think you’re going to fall in love with me or something?”

���No,” Bradley says, honestly.

He knows you’re just trying to make a point.

The two of you have been friends for over a decade. He knows he cares about you- he always has- but he couldn’t imagine what anything other than just friendship would look like with you.

You nod in agreement, like you had been anticipating the answer before you’d even asked him the question.

“And do you think I’m going to fall in love with you?” you ask, your head tilting to the side.

He doesn’t even blink, “You can do better than me.”

And he means it.

Even if there was something more between the two of you, you’ve always been too good for him. And knowing him, he’d find a way to fuck it up. You’re the last person in the world he’d ever want to hurt. He’d let you down before, he doesn’t want to do it ever again.

You shoot him a disappointed look, like you don’t like hearing him say that about himself. And he’s oddly touched that you’re defending him against himself. 

“You’d literally be doing me a favor.”

Bradley is still surprised that he hasn’t ended this conversation yet. The two of you were supposed to go to the movies, but that definitely wasn’t happening now.

“I’m not saying no,” he says, “But I need you to help me understand. Why me? Why now?”

“Bradley, I want it to be with you because there’s no one else I’ll ever feel as comfortable with as I do with you,” you explain.

He watches as you unfold yourself and climb off the bed, coming to stand in front of him. You gingerly reach out and put your hand on his forearm, like you don’t want to startle him. Not that he’d be able to move anyways since it feels like the soles of his feet are cemented to the floor.

“I keep waiting for it to not feel like such a big thing, but every time it seems like it’s going to happen, I freeze. And I know you’d take care of me, and I’m not talking about orgasms.” You stumble over the word a bit, not fully meeting his eyes as you say it. “It’s scary enough as a girl and I’m worried I’m going to be too in my head with anyone else. But I also don’t want to look back and have any regrets, and I know I wouldn’t have any with you.”

The mention of regrets makes his stomach twinge. His heart feels like it’s hammering in his chest. He doesn’t know what to say.

You are looking at him with such open sincerity. He has never been good with talking about his feelings, he’s always been the type to bottle things up, while you have always worn your heart on your sleeve. It was just another way that you were braver than him.

“I know it’s a lot,” you say, letting go of him to take a step back, like you want to give him breathing room, “So if it’s too big of an ask. Or if it’s not something you’re comfortable with-”

Bradley shakes his head cutting you off, “It’s not that at all, kid. I just haven’t done this before.” Your eyebrow scrunches together in confusion. “I mean, I have,” he corrects, “But it’s not the same. All the girls I’ve been with had already had experience. And if we were going to do this, I would want to make sure it’s as nice for you as it can be.”

“So you’d be my first and I’d be yours? Well, kind of.” You give him a little smile, it’s a shy but hopeful thing. There’s only a hint of your dimples, but it’s enough. And he feels that practical part of him that had been holding back soften at the sight of it.

He doesn’t think he’s ever said no to you, excluding the times you tried to get him to give you his beer at the house parties he took you to in high school, and that was more out of self-preservation from a healthy fear of your mom than anything else.

When you wanted to learn how to drive a stick shift? He took you to the abandoned parking lot, it didn’t matter that you didn’t have your learner’s permit yet. When you wanted to learn how to throw a punch? He was making sure you knew not to tuck your thumb under your fingers, so that you didn’t break your own thumb instead of someone’s nose.

He’s always had your back and you’ve had his. That’s how it was between the two of you.

You’ve already said it, but he needs to hear it again, “You really want to do it?”

“I really want it to be you, Bradley. I really want to do this with you. I trust you the most.”

He’s always been willing to help you with anything you’ve ever asked of him, why should this be any different? What’s a couple orgasms between friends?

“Ok,” Bradley nods. If it’s to reassure you or himself, he couldn’t say. “I’ll do it. We can do it.”

Your eyebrows raise in surprise, like you were fully prepared for him to let you down gently, “Really?”

You didn’t ask for his why he was agreeing, but he was going to give it to you anyway.

“I don’t think I’ve told you this, but I lost mine to Samantha Prescod after the game against Centennial that got us a spot at State that year,” he waits until he sees the recognition cross your face before continuing, “But I had also just learned about my mom’s diagnosis and I was trying to find anything I could do to not think about it.” He rubs at a spot underneath his collarbone, it never got any easier talking about his mom. “I think she assumed that I’d done it before, because we didn’t really talk about it. She was there and into it, so it just sort of happened. Actually, I’m pretty sure she only slept with me because she wanted to make her ex-boyfriend jealous, because they got back together like three days later.”

It’s probably for the best that Samantha Prescod lives on the other side of the country now because you look livid. Your eyes spark with anger and disbelief on his behalf.

“It was years ago, it’s fine, kid” he shrugs, trying to brush off your concern. “But if I had a do-over, I don’t know if I’d make the same choice again. And that’s not something I’d ever want for you.” You deserve the rose petals, but he’ll do his best for you. “So we can do it, but I have one condition.”

The relief on your face and the way the tension in your shoulder releases only solidifies his decision.

“Tell me,” you say, taking a half-step towards him, “I want you to be comfortable too.”

Bradley pushes off his desk and meets you the rest of the way, “If you even think you’re feeling uncomfortable- about any of it- I need you to tell me. And we’ll stop and figure out where to go from there. If it’s a change of position, if it’s a full stop and order pizza instead, we’ll do that.” He pauses and reaches out to tip your chin up. “I’ll do whatever you need, got it?”

You throw your arms around him, and his wrap around you just as easily. Your hair smells like the travel sized shampoo he’d picked up for you, figuring you wouldn’t want to use his 2-in-1. You murmur your thank you into his shirt followed by a fuck Samantha Prescod that makes him squeeze you just a bit tighter to him in affection.

When you step back and look at him, your lips twitch upwards, “What’s with the look, Bradshaw? Don’t tell me you’re going to lie back and think of England?”

That makes him chuckle, your joke lightening the mood in only the way that you can do. He rolls his eyes in equal parts exasperation and fondness.

“God, I haven’t been this nervous since I lost my own virginity. I was so stressed I was going to blow my load in two pumps and lose my street cred.”

You snort and send him a smirk, “Well, you must have done just fine. I overheard some glowing reviews in the girl’s bathroom on more than one occasion.”

“I maybe lasted ten trusts, but I had the good sense to eat her out after,” he admits, and then tacks on for good measure, “I’ve gotten better since then.”

“What a stud,” you tease.

This is easier, this feels like the two of you. This should be fun, it shouldn’t feel serious. He can make it good for you.

You look up at him shyly from under your lashes, “So how do we do this?”

He feels like he only just wrapped his head around the idea of it, but now he was facing the very real possibility of seeing you very naked very soon.

“You want to do it now?” Bradley blinks.

“I mean, if you’re up for it.” You scrunch your nose when you realize you’ve made a terrible double entendre. “No pun intended, I promise.”  

He wipes his hands on his pants.

“You sure?” he asks again.

“I’m sure, Bradley. As long as you are too.”

He nods, “Then I guess we just…”

He’s not sure where he was going to go with that. But he’s spared from being roasted by you for making some sure to be lame birthday suit joke because you’re untying the bow on the soft lounge shorts you’d thrown on after your shower from the hike, and all the words get trapped in his throat.

You don’t look at Bradley as you slide your shorts down your legs. And you definitely don’t look at him when you pull your shirt over your head, leaving you in only a soft green mesh bra and your cotton underwear. They’re mismatched, but sex with Bradley wasn’t originally on the Spring Break To-Do List agenda for today.

In fact, you hadn’t even been sure you were going to go through with asking him until he brought up the point that he knew you had something on your mind because you apparently had no poker face.

While it felt like you had a swarm of butterflies whirling in your stomach, you also knew wholeheartedly that this was the right choice for you. Everything he had said had solidified that for you.

You weren’t sure how you were ever going to thank him for this, but you had a lifetime of friendship with Bradley to figure it out.

His room cast in the soft afternoon light, the blinds only partly closed. There are little streaks of gold that line the plaid comforter on his bed. He’d been right, Charlottesville had stayed sunny just for you.

As you climb into it and situate yourself against his pillows, you can help but notice just how much his bed smells like him. It’s not the spicy scent you associated with the High School version of him. The woodsy and warm scent embedded in the threads of his sheets suits this grown up version of him.

You feel equal parts overdressed and underdressed in your bra and underwear. You know the latter are going to come off eventually, so you make a split-second decision to just take them off yourself under his covers. The idea of Bradley helping you to pull them off later seems like it would be too intimate based on the way the thought of it makes your cheeks heat up.

It’s practical, you’re being practical, you think to yourself.

You chance a peek at him and are surprised to see that he hasn’t budged an inch. It’s almost like he is waiting for you to get completely settled before he dares to move a muscle. His eyes are trained on the pile of your clothes on the floor, he looks lost in thought.

“Bradley?”

The sound of your voice seems to kickstart him into action.

He shucks off his shirt in that kind of reckless way that seems to be ingrained in boys and then unbuttons his pants. You’re torn between feeling like you should give him privacy and wanting to watch. What you were expecting is the way he takes the time to pick his clothes up before folding them over the back of the chair at his desk.

Your mouth goes dry as you take in the sight of his body, the diffused light perfectly outlines the shape of him. His broad shoulders are rounded with the muscles he’s gained from whatever exercises the NROTC has been putting him through. Your eyes dip down to his defined chest and over the ridges of his abs. You’ve seen him in swim trunks plenty of times, but seeing the way the muscles of his thick thighs fill out the black boxer briefs he was wearing was entirely new to you.

Bradley approaches you and then pauses as he bends down to collect your pile of clothes on the floor, his hand hesitating only for a second when he reaches for your underwear. He drapes all of your things on top of his on the chair and makes his way back to you.

The gesture makes you melt a little like a soft serve ice cream cone on a summer afternoon.

You lift the corner of the cover for Bradley and he climbs in next to you. You move closer to the wall, trying to make more room for the bulk of him in his small bed, and he shifts in even closer into you until your bodies pressed tight against one another. The curves and angles of the two of you slotting together like pieces of a puzzle.

It feels like the two of you are teetering there on the edge of something. You both know exactly where it’s going, but are unsure of how to make it from Point A to Point B. Both waiting on the other person to make the first move.

He rests his warm hand on your stomach, the muscles there jumping on their own under his touch in anticipation. Your faces are close since you’re sharing his pillow. His brown eyes are searching yours, probably looking for any sign of hesitation that you don’t feel.

“Tell me how you’re feeling.” It’s not a question, but a request.

“Overwhelmed,” you admit, “But in a good way.” He runs his palm lightly up your stomach and back down, soothingly.

“Good, that’s good,” Bradley says, clearing his throat, “You’re supposed to feel a little ‘overwhelmed, but in a good way.’” You feel your lips pull up at his gentle teasing.

He smiles softly at you. His face has always been so familiar to you. The pink from his scars have finally faded, but you wonder when his eyes start crinkling around the corners.

You let go of the comforter to run a finger down the top of his nose, “I don’t know how this has stayed so straight.” He’d been in more than a couple fights in his teen years, including one that had sent him through a sliding glass door.

“Probably the combination of a little luck and the fact that none of those guys could throw a punch,” Bradley smirks. He shifts on his side, propping himself up on an elbow looking down at you, still running his hand along your stomach. “What have you done so far?”

His fingertips circle your bellybutton and your stomach swoops like it’s on the swing carousel ride at the fair.

“Some over the clothes stuff…” you stammer. You’re having trouble focusing because all your attention is on his big hand and how it feels against your oversensitive skin. “And I have a vibrator, but ah…”

You’re so keenly aware of his hand. With every lazy circle he makes, he has you wondering if this is going to be the one where he finally moves his hand lower. That part of you in flutters in expectation because you know it’s coming.

You let out a shaky huff when his fingers trails back up your stomach.

“What is it?” Bradley’s hand stops moving. “What are you thinking?”

“Honestly?” you say, trying not to squirm, “I’m getting really horny and you keep teasing me.”

He presses his lips together like he’s trying not to laugh at your overshare, and there’s amusement in his eyes.

“You know, some people call it foreplay,” he drawls. You’d roll your eyes but his fingertips are by your bellybutton again and you want him to keep going. “You ready for more?” You nod a few times because if he doesn’t touch you soon you might just crawl out of your skin. “Ok, gonna stop ‘teasing’ you now.”

This time his hand doesn’t stop at your bellybutton, it keeps moving down, down.

You stutter over a breath when Bradley’s fingers touch your clit. You feel yourself melt a little further into his mattress. He’s making easy circles, letting you get used to someone’s fingers other than your own on the most sensitive part of you. Your hands are clutching tightly to his comforter, unsure of what else to do with them.

“Spread your legs a little wider for me,” he murmurs. You feel your face heat up. He’d just given you a direction, but it sounds almost indecent coming out of his mouth.

You shift, moving your legs apart further for him, until he secures your left between his own, opening you up even more. You know you’re wet and now he does too. Bradley’s fingers slide easily over you as he increases the pressure on your clit. You can feel the intensity of his gaze on you watching for your reaction as he figures out what you like the most.

It doesn’t take him long to learn your body. You don’t know whether to be impressed with him or embarrassed with yourself at how quickly he’s worked you up.

Your breathing feels so loud in your ears in the quiet room, every breath and sigh is amplified. There’s a certain thrill in not knowing how he’s going to touch you next, your own fingers pale in comparison now.

His warm breath coasts down the side of your neck causing you to shiver at the sensation. It makes goosebumps break out along your arms and your nipples pull taut.

He notices. Of course he notices.

“Are you cold?” His voice is low in your ear.

“No, I-” Oh god, you’re right there. “B-bradley, I’m-” You’ve made yourself orgasm plenty of times, but you’ve never shared that part of yourself with anyone else before. No one knows what you sound like or what you look like when you come. But now, Bradley was going to have the piece of you too. A whine escapes you without your permission.

“It’s ok, kid, I’ve got you.”

You’re seeking and searching, but it’s Bradley’s fingers that have the answer.

And you come with your stomach twitching and hips jerking as he murmurs praise in your ear.

His fingers slow down, featherlight on your clit, but your heart is still racing when he rasps, “There’s one, you up for another?”

Bradley loves that moment during sex when he hears that first gasp or moan. He loves learning what sounds of satisfaction he can pull from his partner. He loves knowing he earned it. But he never in his life could have ever anticipated hearing those sounds from you.

In his bed. Because of him.

He didn’t expect the lick of heat that curled up his spine at the shape of your legs and the curve of your ass as you were stepping out of your shorts. He’d never seen anything so strangely endearing as it was watching you shimmy your underwear off under the shield of his covers.

Every hitch in your breath made his blood run hotter in his veins. He was trying to control his cock, but he’d started getting hard the second you’d pulled your shirt off. Your bra was some kind of sheer thing that left nothing to the imagination, and while he wasn’t trying to check you out- because that’s not how it was between the two of you- he couldn’t help the way his eyes flickered down.

You’re slippery, wet, and warm. And he knows he can make you come again.

“Do you want me to use my fingers now?”

You crack an eye open at him, it’s the first time you’ve opened your eyes since he first touched you. Your eyes are bright in that way that only comes with an orgasm. “I thought you already were.”

“Such a smartass,” he grins.

Bradley changes the unhurried circles he’d been making on your clit to the upstroke that made your hips jerk up into his hand the first time he’d tried it. The little noises you’re making have him fighting the urge to grind himself against you for some relief of his own. He’s still got your knee tucked between his own; where there had been a hint of polite space between your bodies, the way you’re writhing now has him pressed up against your hip.

You gasp, breathily, “Oh, you’re hard.” The disbelief is evident in your voice, but it’s the look in your eyes that he doesn’t know what to make of, something like surprise.

He’s been trying to be a gentleman, this is about you and not him. There might not be anything romantic happening between the two of you, but this was hot and he was more than a little turned on. And he knows you are too because he can feel how wet you are under his fingers.

“’Course I am,” Bradley says, nudging his nose against your temple, “I’ve got a pretty girl in my bed half naked.” He didn’t want you to feel like you were in this on your own, so he lightly rocks against you. He wants you to feel him, he wants you to know he is into this too. “Are you ready more?”

“I’m ready, I want more,” you confirm, wrapping your hand around his bicep.

Your breath hitches as he teases you with just the tip of his finger.

He’s been told before he has big hands and thick fingers, he’s always taken it as a compliment in the past, but now he’s scanning your face for any trace of discomfort as he sinks one into you.

Your eyebrows twitch then smooth out and your mouth drops open as he starts pumping his finger into you in a smooth rhythm.

“That feels nice,” you sigh, airily.

He knows you like it when your hips tip up just a fraction. His comforter is bunched around your waist and your nipples are peaked against the see-through fabric of your bra. He gets his thumb on your clit and you whimper as you tentatively roll your hips against his fingers.

Bradley hums his approval, “Atta girl. There you go, find what feels good for you.” His voice sounds low even to his own ears, a throaty rumble. He feels you clench around his fingers and it sets his pulse racing. It’s a piece of information he tucks away for himself.

He’s gentle on your clit, but now that he knows you’re into it he’s setting a more purposeful pace with his fingers.

You’ve got your bottom lip pinned between your teeth, like you’re trying to swallow down your sounds. He didn’t realize how much he liked hearing these new sounds from you until you started trying to muffle them. On the next slide of his finger into you, he knows exactly what he’s looking for.

You suck in a sharp breath of surprise when he finds it.

“Is that the right spot, kid?” He sounds so smug. You curse and your hand clutches at his shoulder. “You want to try a second finger?” he murmurs into your ear.

“Yes,” you rock into his hand, “Yes, please.”

“Whatever you want, Miss Manners.” His chest feels like he’s taken a shot of Fireball. “You’re so polite when you’re trying to get your way.”

“I’m always polite,” you challenged weakly, pressing your head further into his pillow.

“Mhm,” he indulges, fondly, “You’re the sweetest girl I know.”

And then he fills you with two fingers.

“Jesus, Bradley,” you gasp, offering more of yourself to him.

Your nails dig into the muscle of his shoulder as he lets your whimpers and whines guide his hands.

The two of you have your eyes fixed on the way the tendons of the visible part of his forearm are flexing before it disappears under the covers as he works you.

Bradley curls his fingers into that spongy part of you and your hand flies to his wrist, gripping him tight. It makes him pause, worried that he might have pushed you too far too fast.

“No, no. D-don’t stop,” you plead, desperately, “I’m so close. Keep going, please.” You squeeze his wrist encouragingly.

“Sorry, sorry,” he soothes. He focuses his efforts on that spot again now that he knows you weren’t wanting him to slow down, but rather trying to hold him in place. His fingers inside of you and his thumb on your clit working in tandem to get you there again.

“I just- yes. Like that. Oh fuck. Keep doing that. Oh my god. Please, Bradley.”

He’s heard you say his name a lot of different ways, but never like this.

Your back arches and you twist yourself towards him, burying your face against him and keening into the hollow of his throat as you come around his fingers.

You jerk and writhe into his hand, your knee slips free of his and your thighs clamp together around him. Bradley rolls off the arm he’d been leaning on and brings it to cradle the back of your head, pulling you closer and holding you to him as he steadily works you through it until you’re loose-limbed in his arms.

He waits until your rapid pants have evened out before he slips his fingers from you. The displeased sound that you make makes the corners of his mouth twitch. He should have known you’d be bossy. He rubs gentle circles into the divots at the base of your neck as you come down.

Bradley can feel your lips graze the side of his neck when you finally speak, “So, um, let me know if you need a letter of recommendation or anything. I’d be happy to pass one along to your next partner.” You languidly prop yourself up on his chest and he notes with pride that you look a little flushed. “But, seriously, I get it now.”

He huffs a laugh as he toys with the end of your hair, “I’m glad it lived up to the hype. Well, at least that part of it.”

You press your lips together like you’re deciding something, tracing idle shapes on his stomach, and he can’t decide if he thinks you’re doing it without realizing it or if you’re the one doing the teasing this time. Your eyes flick down to his visibly hard cock and he feels his face heat up, “Can I?”

“Do you want to?” Bradley wants this experience to be everything you need and want it to be, but something about the tables turning here and the idea of you being the one to touch him like that makes his heart pound.

“I want to make you feel good too,” you softly tell him, resting your chin on your shoulder. The tender way you’re looking at him makes his teeth ache.

“Ok, but only for a little bit,” he agrees. Bradley knows he’s walking a tightrope with this, he’s aching and more than ready to be touched, but he doesn’t want to come all over your hand.

He plants his feet into his mattress and lifts his hips enough to pull off his boxer briefs, sighing in relief as his cock bobs free.

“That can’t be average,” you mutter under your breath.

He doesn’t know if you meant to have said it out loud but he smirks all the same, “I’ve never been average a day in my life, kid, Grade A student here.”

A groan slips out of him as your tentative fingers grasp his cock. There’s a lack of finesse in the way you touch him, your hand isn’t nearly as well-practiced as his own. He wraps his hand over yours, guiding your strokes as he shows you just what he likes.

“You can grip it a little firmer,” he coaches. You nod studiously, like you’re going to be tested on it later. Together the two of you work him from root to tip.

Bradley had never given much thought to his size until now. He knew he was big, but seeing that your thumb couldn’t reach the tips of your fingers when your hand was curved around him was an ego boost he didn’t know he needed.

You get more confident with every glide up and down the length of him. Your tricky thumb sweeps over the tip, collecting what precum had gathered there, and it makes your hand slide easier over him. When he accidentally thrusts into your hand, you grin and there are those dimples again.

“Ok, ok,” he blows out a shaky breath, stilling your hand with his. “We gotta stop or I’m going to come. And I’m not about to be a one pump chump.”

“It sounded like you’re more of a ten pump chump, if I remember correctly,” you tease, looking all too pleased with yourself. “Don’t worry, Bradshaw, your street cred is safe with me.”

He shakes his head in amused disbelief, “You’re such a goddamn menace. I knew I shouldn’t have told you that part.” He surprises the both of you when he wraps an arm around you and rolls to pin you under him.

And it’s like all the air is sucked out of the room because your thighs are cradling his hips and his cock is resting heavy on your stomach.

Neither one of you dare to move. He’d give anything to know what you’re thinking right now, he feels out of his depth as he watches you watching him.

His tongue feels thick in his mouth, “Are you on-”

You nod before he even finishes the question.

“Do you have-”

He nods before you finish yours.

“What did you promise me?” he prompts, squeezing the dip of your waist.

You hold up your pinky to him, “I’ll tell you.” He wraps his own crooked one around yours and gives it a shake.

Bradley doesn’t know what comes over him, but he drops a kiss to your shoulder as he reaches over you into the drawer of his nightstand to fish out what he needs. He’s thankful when you don’t comment on it because he wouldn’t even know how to explain it.

He leans back on his knees and rolls the condom on with practiced ease, then flicks open the cap to the bottle of lube he’s also grabbed and drizzles it over his cock.

“Am I not…” you trail off. He doesn’t think he’s ever heard you sound this shy with him before.

“You’re plenty wet,” he assures you, pumping himself- once, twice- just enough to coat himself, “But this’ll be good too. I think you’ll like it.”

Bradley settles back over you, one arm braced by your head and the other on your hip, as your hands come up to rest lightly on either side of his ribcage. He rocks against you to demonstrate; the head of his cock nudges your clit with each silky pass. You exhale heavily at the sensation as he eases you into the motion of it, as he shows you what it’s like with another person.

You’re holding him close, and in just a moment the two of you will be the closest two people can be.

He makes only enough room to reach down between your bodies, only looks away from your face long enough to line himself up with you. There is such trust in your eyes as you gaze up at him, it’s not something Bradley takes for granted.

You nod, your fingers stroking his sides.

God, does he want this to be good for you.

He takes a breath.

And then he’s shifting forward and pressing in.

Bradley thrusts into you with all the careful gentleness you’d expect from him.

His thumb skimming along your forehead as he pushes in, in, in.

When he found that spot inside of you with his fingers, you thought you were going to fly away from the intensity of it, but then he’d pulled you into the safety of his arms and you felt like you could fall apart because he’d be keeping the pieces of you together.

He’s been so good to you. He is so good to you. He’s the best person you know.

The more of him he gives you, the less you feel like you can catch your breath.

You feel hot, hot all over. And much fuller than you’ve ever been.

Some sound must make its way out of you because Bradley offers you a low soothing noise before you feel his lightly chapped lips against your temple.

There’s something about this that reminds you of the time he tried to teach you how to skateboard. Always waited until you told him you were ready, until you found your balance. He’d held your hand as you cautiously rolled along the sidewalk, you were less worried about falling with him by your side. Only this time, his hand is on your waist and the only movements are his hips against yours as he rocks into you.

Little by little. Inch by inch.

You clutch at his biceps at the slight stinging sensation and you feel him hesitate.

“It’s just a lot,” you whisper. His fingers flex on your waist.

“You’re doing so good, just a bit more,” Bradley murmurs, encouragingly.

There’s pressure, there’s a give, and then there’s relief when his hips finally, finally meet yours.

“Shit,” he curses under his breath.

Your eyes had flickered shut somewhere along the way. You open them to see that Bradley’s face and chest are flushed pink, the muscle of his jaw flexing. The furrow between his eyebrows is so deep that you release your grip on him to smooth out the lines with an unsteady fingertip.

He reads the question in your eyes.

“You’re just really tight,” he grits out, voice strained.

You assumed that was a good thing, but he’s holding himself so tense above you that now you’re not sure. “Do I-,” you fumble over the words, “Does this feel good for you?”

He huffs an incredulous laugh, and brushes back some hair from off your face, “You feel really fucking good, sweet-”

Your whimper cuts him off when he pulls out a fraction and then pushes back in.

His brown eyes take you in as he does it again, more this time. Pulling out just a bit- just enough- and then filling you again. The discomfort fading more with each thrust as he guides his hips to yours until yours are tilting up to meet his seeking more.

It’s a conversation between your bodies, the give and the take of it all as Bradley introduces you to this new unspoken language. You feel yourself flutter around his cock, stretched wider than you’ve ever been.

You feel that heat spreading underneath your skin again as he surely and steadily pumps into you. It feels like your nerves are on fire. You didn’t expect to even come once and you’re well on your way to a third.

He reaches down and hooks your leg over his hip. His hand slides up along the outside of your thigh and under your ass, tilting your hips up towards his even more. He’s so much deeper like this. Your hands slide into his hair, tugging at his curls.

“Bradley, I-I think… I feel-”

 “You’re gonna come,” he rasps, nodding at you. Encouraging, coaxing.

He grinds his pelvis against your clit with every deliciously slow roll into you.

Your mouth drops open at the feel of it, it’s better than anything you’ve ever imagined. You don’t think your faces have ever been closer than they are now. Bradley is breathing your air, and you’re breathing his. Bradley’s pupils are blown wide, his heavy-lidded eyes are locked on yours. You didn’t know there could be so many shades of brown. His curls are a mess and it’s all because of you. He licks his lips and your breath catches in your throat when his eyes dart down to your parted mouth.

His next thrust into you hits that spot inside of you just so right that it has you gasping.

It’s so good, it’s too good, it’s overwhelming.

You wrap your arms around his neck clinging to him, your face buried against him. Bradley drops his head to your shoulder, you feel his lips brush against your clavicle. Your head moves away on instinct, making more room for him if he wants to do it again.

You get lost in the feeling of his cock hitting you in all the places you’ve heard about and read about, but have never felt for yourself until now. He’s still got your ass gripped in his hand, whereas your hands can’t stay in one spot. They’re tangled in his hair, running over his shoulders and down his abs, gliding over his back aided by the sheen of sweat he’s worked up.

You’re not trying to hold yourself back, but it feels like you’re standing on the tallest diving board at the pool, your toes curled around the edge, but still too nervous about the drop to jump.

“C’mon, kid. You’re right there,” he breathes hard, “I need you to come for me. Just one more.”

He gets his fingers back on your clit and it’s the end of you. Your back is arching so much you think you might snap. Your toes curl so tights they may never unfurl. The force your orgasm overtakes you, demanding everything you have up to offer and then some.

You hear Bradley’s moan as you pulse around his cock, trembling under him as the waves of pleasure wash over you. His hips stutter against yours, finally losing that steady rhythm he’d set, you pull him tighter to you and it’s not long until he comes too.

It’s all white noise. All you can feel is your heartbeat pounding, until little pieces of the world come back into focus.

The hum of the fan.

The beam of warm afternoon light through the blinds.

The smell of the now cold coffee on his nightstand.

In the after, you’re all too aware of every place your body is touching Bradley’s.

He’d somehow managed to roll on his back and had taken you with him. He was literally just inside of you, but yet it feels like your leg draped over his thigh is somehow more intimate. A prickly self-conscious feeling settles over you. Unsure of what the rules were for friends who just had sex, you attempt to peel yourself off of him, but the heavy arm over your waist keeps you in place.

“Come back here, kid,” Bradley mumbles, his eyes still closed, “I need to cuddle after I come, so I’m gonna need you to indulge me here for a moment.” He strokes a soothing hand down your back. And while he says it’s for him, you know he’s still trying to take care of you.

He hums when you lay back down. You set a hand on his chest. He reaches for it with his free one and threads your fingers together. It makes you melt further into him.

You feel a little different. But mostly, you feel like a weight you didn’t know you’d been carrying had been lifted off of you.

Your first time was everything you hoped it would be. You were safe and cared for, and you already knew, you’d never have any regrets about it. And it was all because of him.

“Thank you, Bradley,” you say, softly.

“Anything for you, kid.”

Your early morning catches up with you as you lay there, warm and secure. Your eyelids get heavier with each pass of Bradley’s hand along your spine. And you drift off to the sound of his heartbeat under your ear.

You’re still you. And Bradley is still Bradley.

It was just… something between friends.

A few hours later the two of you are still in his bed.

Only now you’re clothed and swapping the cartons of Chinese food that he’d ordered while you’d napped against his chest, and fighting over the fortune cookies watching some reruns of old sitcoms. You couldn’t hear their laugh tracks over your own.

The last couple of days you had at UVA fly by just as quickly.

You don’t know how, but the two of you managed to cross of all the things on his Spring Break To-Do List. And before you knew it you were back at the airport.

Bradley had insisted on walking you in, wanting to see you off.

Neither one of you has ever been good with goodbyes. So you don’t give him one, instead you reach for your bag and tell him, “Ok, see you in June.”

Bradley doesn’t let go, clearly confused, “What the hell are you talking about?”

You grin because it feels like a checkmate.

“You didn’t think you’d be getting that diploma all by yourself, did you?”

He looks thunderstruck.

You and your mom already had the plane tickets and hotel room booked. Your stepdad wouldn’t be able to come, but he was planning on sending your mom with one of the cakes from his family’s bakery. You’d been tasked with finding out what flavor, carrot cake or peanut butter- Bradley’s two favorites- but you could iron out the details with him later.

You’d had a busy week, plus it was more fun this way.

Bradley tugs you into his arms, yours wrap around him just as easily as they always have.

“June?” he asks into the crown of your head.

“June,” you promise.

And when he lets you go- for real this time- it’s with a smile that takes up his whole face.

He doesn’t say goodbye either, “Be good, kid. See you in June.”

𝐍𝐎𝐖

You avoid Rooster for the rest of the night.

And Jake too, for that matter. Bless Javy for finding ways to distract him because you could tell than man was chomping at the bit for more details. But you’d already given him more than enough.

You could have lied, you probably should have lied. It might have been easier than feeling like you’d hung up part of yourself on the drying line for everyone to see. But in that moment, the thought of lying and saying anyone else’s name other than Rooster’s had made your stomach turn.

Because it was the truth, he was your first, but he was also your best.

When you come out of the bathroom, there’s no missing Rooster. He’s leaning against the wall by the entrance. It takes him a moment to notice you since he looks lost in thought, but when he does you feel pinned to the wall by the intense look in his eyes.

He stands to his full height as you approach, you know he wants to talk about it.

You shake your head at him, “We don’t need to do this.”

“No, kid, we really do.” He takes you by the arm and leads you to a quieter spot away from everyone else.

“It was just a game,” you start before he can, “And now I know more about everyone’s sex life than I ever wanted to.” He crosses his arms over his chest at your attempt at deflection. “Look, I’m really sorry if that was something you wanted to keep a secret or just between us. I should have asked you first if that was ok to share.”

“I don’t care about that.” Rooster waves you off and takes a step closer to you, his eyes searching yours. “All this time and I’m the best you’ve ever had?”

“Are we really doing this? Here and now?”

You peer around him to look and see if anyone is watching the two of you, it feels like a showdown. But all the Daggers are occupied, probably on purpose. You’ve never seen Mickey with such a serious look of concentration on his face.

“Here and now,” he confirms.

You feel flustered, “Rooster, it’s been 12 years and we haven’t talked about it once-”

“Bradley,” he cuts you off. He takes another step towards you, so you’re toe to toe with him. “I’ve always been Bradley to you.”

The tension that had crept up in your shoulders releases a bit.

“Bradley,” you say, softly. “Listen, I’ve had a lot of good sex since then. Great sex even.” He presses his lips together and nods. “And with other men, if I felt like they weren’t putting in their best effort I’d kick them out because the bar was set very high early on.”

You see him fight back a smirk.

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs, with pride.

Your breath gets caught in your throat, you know he hears it because his eyes take on a richer shade of brown. You both feel the shift, tension churning between the two of you.

Taking a deep breath, you continue, “But I was telling the truth when I said you were my best. Probably because of the way you made sure I knew that you cared. I don’t know how to describe it. It was just different with you.”

You feel his finger graze the back of your hand.

The sounds of the Hard Deck fade into the background as you stare at each other. Entire conversations are being had as you look into his eyes and he looks into yours. Words and sentences spoken with glances.

Just friends don’t look at each other like this.

“It’s never been like this,” you whisper, “We’ve never been like this before.” You gesture at how close he is to you.

How he’s almost got you backed up against a wall.

How he’s looking at you like you’re his.

“I know.”

He says your name and your heart somersaults in your chest.

“I want to see your tattoo. I keep finding myself looking for it when we’re all at the beach. And then I get annoyed, knowing that people have seen it and I haven’t.”

“My tattoo? Bradley, what-”

“I want to see your tattoo,” he repeats like it’s a fact. “And I want to punch Seresin in his smug face every time he flirts with you.”

You roll your eyes, “Jake doesn’t flirt with me, not really. He just likes riling you up.”

“What if I said I wanted to try this as more than friends.” Bradley settles a large hand on your hip. “What if I said that since you’ve moved here I’ve had a hard time keeping my head on straight.”

“Bradley.” His name falls out of your mouth so easily now that it can.

“I want to take you home with me. I want to kiss you. I want to make you come. I need to know if you sound the same in my bed. And then I want to take you out for breakfast and buy whatever fancy coffee you want and as many pancakes as you can eat.”

You’ve been told that you wear your heart on your sleeve, but he has always worn his on his face. There’s no mistaking the open want on his face.

“Bradley, it’ll be different this time.” For so many reasons.

Because it’s not a favor being asked. It’s not some new experience being tried with the person you trust the most, with everything. You’d be on equal footing. It wouldn’t be a friend helping a friend, the two of you would be crossing that line between friends and more because you want each other in that way.

“I want it to be different, sweet girl,” he says, cupping your face in his familiar hand, “I’m ready for it to be different, if you are.”

He looks from your eyes down to your parted lips.

“We didn’t do that last time,” you whisper. Feeling brave, you reach out and run your fingers along the buttons of his shirt.

“No, we didn’t,” he agrees. His eyes are trained on his thumb as he skims it under your lip. “And that’s a damn shame.”

Bradley’s face is all you can see. Warm eyes, a still-straight nose, and a soft smile that is for you and you alone.

He dips down and your eyes flutter closed, your head tipping up on its own in anticipation.

His lips brush your cheek. It’s not enough.

You tug on his collar, but he chuckles and kisses your cheek again, lingering longer this time.

“I’m not kissing you for the first time around the corner from a bathroom,” he rasps.

You open your eyes and see the amusement in his. He always did like teasing you.

“Oh, where do you plan on doing it then?”

“Outside your front door, like a gentleman,” he says, like it’s obvious.

You can’t help but grin because Bradley Bradshaw can’t wait the extra 10 minutes it would take to drive to his place instead of yours. He wants that kiss just as badly as you do. You watch as a matching smile to yours blooms across his face.

It feels normal to slide your fingers between his much larger ones. It feels right as you lead the way out of the Hard Deck with him only a step behind you.

As it turns out, he only makes it as far as the Bronco before he’s spinning you back towards him and pressing you against it. His hands are on your hips and yours are wrapped around his neck as he kisses you for the very first time.

Bradley kisses you like a man who knows what he wants. And what he wants is you.

It’s not tentative in the way that first kisses usually are.

He kisses you like he knows you.

Because he does.

Later, when he closes the door to the Bronco for you, it feels like the end of one thing. But as he slips his fingers into yours when he backs out of the parking space it feels like the beginning of something new.

That night tangled in Bradley’s sheets- he’d kissed you at every light which made those extra 10 minutes it took to get to his home worth it- he makes your back arch and your toes curl as he makes you come with his fingers and mouth and tongue and cock. His lips dropping kiss after kiss on every part of you that he can reach. Because he can, because you want him and he wants you. 

The way he touches you tells you that he remembers it all.

He was you first, but what you wouldn’t learn until later, is that he would also be your last.

And he’d be the only man to ever have your entire heart.

Happy Birthday Jordan! An AU just for you! 💖 I adore you and I hope this year is the best one yet!

A big thank you to @callsignspark and @ofstoriesandstardust for their help and beta reading and their woogirling! I appreciate you two so much!

Author's Note: this was a "what-if" AU set in the 'Like I Can' universe! If you want to read about what really happens you can read it here!

You can read more of my stories here!

Taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken  @callsignspark @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @ofstoriesandstardust @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader

[senawashere]

Carolina?

Summary: Who is Carolina? Is she the other woman? And why Bradley is talking about her in his sleep?

A/n: I wrote this like 2 or 3 years ago for another character and i wanted to post again🤭

Warnings: tooth rutting fluff actually. Maybe a bit angst. And a bit smutt at the end. Hehehehe.

Bradley always talked in his sleep,most of life. So you were ok with it. But one night,everything chances.

You slowly wake up to a chill in the air, realizing that Bradley has closed most of the windows once again, as usual.

The room is dark, and the digital clock on your nightstand shows 4:28; you've only been asleep for four hours.

As you turn to the side, you see Bradley curled up in the blankets, lying on his side with his back turned to you. You approach him, pulling the blanket closer for warmth, and snuggle up to your husband, wrapping your arm around his abdomen. You drift back to sleep with you melting in his embrace, emitting a low, soft purr from his curled lips.

He feels so warm and resilient against you that you bury your face into his back, inhaling his scent, placing a few kisses on his shoulder blades before laying your head on the pillow. You hear Bradley's gentle murmurs as he returns to his dreams. When you open your eyes, you lift your head slightly, leaning towards him in hopes of understanding what he's saying, but his words are jumbled.

"Brad?" you whisper, wondering if he's about to wake up.

"Baby..." he murmurs, and then you hear something inconsistent.

"I'm here," you say softly, kissing his shoulder. He usually calls you "baby," so you assume he's talking to you.

"Baby... My baby..." he repeats, and as you smile at the thought of him dreaming about you, everything shatters with a single word.

"Carolina... Carolina, baby… my…girl"

Wait a second, who is Carolina?

It wakes you up faster than an alarm. As you sit up, looking at your still-sleeping husband, talking about someone named Carolina in his dreams, you're left puzzled. You don't know anyone by that name, so she must be someone Bradley knows, and that's concerning.

"Carolina... beautiful..." the words spill from his lips, almost inaudible but piercing your ears like a punch to the chest.

Lately, he's been so confused, but you haven't thought much about it, attributing it to all the work he put into his job and getting promoted. However, now you see it in a different light.

And yes you know his mother’s name is Carol but the problem is Carol and Carolina are not the same.

Or are they? No probably not.

Could Bradley be spending time with another woman? The thought of him cheating on you didn't cross your mind. Everything seemed so perfect; you were planning the moving somewhere else next summer, and he didn't seem regretful of his decision to marry you.

But then who is Carolina? And if she invaded his dreams, how important could she be? More important than you? It made your stomatch flip.

Afterward, you struggled to sleep, tossing and turning in bed for hours.

Bradley stops talking afterward, turning his face up, and while you lie awake next to him, going through every possible theory in your mind, he simply sleeps peacefully, unaware of your racing thoughts. As the sun begins to rise on the horizon, you're already out of bed, perched on a kitchen stool with your laptop, hoping to find a clue Bradley left behind as you delve into the history.

But what if he's really doing this? If he's cheating on you, he wouldn't be foolish enough to get caught like this. Right?

You make tea and reluctantly check his socials that he follows almost everyone he knows. You hate stalking your husband with the thought of him cheating on you but now you want to know if something strange is happening. Unfortunately, or fortunately, nothing suspicious comes up. Most of the accounts are from people who works with, either with people you know,his old friends, or his family members and some of his dads old friends.

No sign of another woman.

That’s good. Right?

Bradley wakes up to an empty bed. It's strange that you're not cuddling him or holding onto him like a koala bear. He blinks his swollen eyes a few times, adjusting to the low light, and straightens the other side of the bed where your body used to rest. Since the room isn't even that cold, he knows you've been up for a while.

Yawning and rubbing his eyes, he throws on a sweatshirt and slowly exits the room, sliding his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. He notices you immediately, curled up on the edge of the couch, looking out of the window. Your forehead is creased, indicating something is bothering you.

"Hey, honey, the bed was cold without you," he murmurs, walking towards you with slow steps, sitting beside you on the couch near the window.

You look at him, your jaw clenched,on verge of tears and even though you didn't want to start like this, the truth about the morning overwhelms you.

"Who is Carolina?"

Confusion is evident on his face. It's not the kind of thing that someone doesn't know what or who is being talked about. Carolina is a real person, and Bradley knows exactly who she is.

"What's this about now?" he asks, leaning back, putting some distance between you two, his arm dropping over the back of the couch,confusion is clearly visible all over his face.

"Do you know anyone named Carolina?" you push, narrowing your eyes.

"I do... well, I mean... it's not what you think honey really..."

"You talk in your sleep, Bradley."

"What?" his eyes widen.

"You often murmur incoherently, but last night, you kept repeating the name Carolina, and... you even called her baby. You called her baby! You only call me baby. "

The revelation dawns on him as you watch, and he takes a slow breath, exhaling gently. This is going to be more complicated than you anticipated.

"I'm telling you, but promise not to think I've lost my mind, okay?"

"You're scaring me, Bradley," you breathe out. "Tell me. Please."

"Okay, okay," he says, inhaling deeply and then nodding slightly. "Do you remember... the day when we thought you might be pregnant, about like five months ago?"

"Of course, I remember," you nod,biting your lip.

Your period was late, and you had vomited in the morning. Bradley had taken a test, and you both sat on the cold tile floor of the bathroom, waiting for the results. It came back negative.

You felt relieved, but a part of you wondered how it would have been if you were pregnant. Something in your head told you it wouldn't have been a big deal, but the timing wasn't right because you two were just about to get married and it would have been nice to get married first before having a baby.

"A few days after that... I had a dream."

"A dream?" You furrow your brows, unsure where this is going.

"Yeah. It was about you and me, and... we had a baby. A little girl. It wasn't something crazy; you were breastfeeding her in our bed, and I was watching you, and then I was holding her, rocking her to sleep and she was sleeping in my arms... It felt real, and when I woke up... I felt like something was missing."

You listen to him carefully, your lower lip tense, and your heart pounding in your chest.

"Since then, I've been having similar dreams. At least twice a week. Always the same baby, always with you inside, but we do different things. Sometimes we bathe her,sometimes we play tickling,sometimes we walk in the park, and sometimes she sleeps in a stroller... Once my mom and dad were in it and one time I saw Mav and Penny too, God, it felt so real," he confesses with a shaky breath. "The last few times, we didn't even have her with us. We gave her a name."

"Carolina? Her name is Carolina?" you softly ask, pushing yourself closer to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

"Yes. She looks a lot like you, but her eyes are like mine. A perfect mix of both of us, and... I couldn't shake it off. Sometimes I wake up after a dream, and I feel like something has been taken away from us, it feels so real,I miss her even though I don't know her."

"Why didn't you tell me about these dreams, Baby?" you whisper, placing a small kiss on his shoulder.

"It felt super foolish, and I didn't know how it would make you feel. I knew we talked about trying for a baby after the wedding, and I thought bringing it up would upset you," he shrugs, planting a gentle kiss on your forehead.

As you sit on the couch, silence falls between you two, your head resting on his chest, his arms around you. This wasn't the outcome you expected. None of your theories came close to the truth Bradley just revealed.

"I was thinking about the same thing...for a while." you say.

"About what?"

"About having a baby. If the test had come back positive, how would it have been?"

"And...?" He leans back to look into your eyes.

"I wouldn't have aborted it," you admit honestly, and Bradley takes a slow breath, gently kissing your forehead. "Do you want to... start trying for a baby before we talk about,Bradley?"

"It can wait," he replies, looking as if he's afraid to say something that might upset you. "If we continue what we're doing, it's okay..."

"But I want to know what you want, Bradley. Tell me."

He takes a deep breath, running his tongue over his lips before speaking.

"I think I want it." The way your heart explodes at his words is undeniable. Realizing that he feels exactly the same way now brings tears to your eyes.

"It would probably mean a blow to the squad if we start now and succeed," you laugh, watching his eyes glimmer.

"That would be the best thing that ever happened," he chuckles, confessing, "just the thought of going on adventures while our baby grows under your heart... God, I could just cry just thinking about it."

"So," you grin, slyly teasing him as you hold his chin with one hand. "Carolina?"

"It could be something else if it's a boy."

"I like it," you murmur, nodding. "We can add it to the list. But before we start making lists, we should probably start trying for a baby, don't you think?"

He doesn't need more encouragement. As you both laugh and kiss, you find yourselves in your bedroom in an instant, clothes flying off as you fall onto the bed. Giving him a passionate kiss before he undresses you, you can't help but whisper, "I love you."

Ekkkk full of cuteness🥹🥹

I'm tagging people who might be interested:@ohtobeleah @sebsxphia @callsigns-haze @sailor-aviator @sorchathered @greenorangevioletgrass @teacupsandtopgun @roosterforme @floydsglasses @lyn-js @bradshawssugarbaby @torchflies @its-dee-lovely @its-the-pilot @friedchips94 @bradshawsbaby @hardballoonlove @perfectprettypisces @topguncortez @hangmanapologist @bradshawsbaddie @shanimallina87 @djs8891 @themusingofagothicsoul @the-romanian-is-bae @mamachasesmayhem @jessicab1991 @iefitzgerald-blog @charcole-grey @waterriseslew @desert-fern @promisingyounglady

[missmarveledsblog]

Fan girl ( Mickey garcia x reader)

summary : when bob is sent from the hard deck to his little sisters sos message well she is not what they expect

warnings : other then shitty friend it's mostly goofy fluffy fun. mutual pining , slight age gap like ten years or less , idiots in love nerdy good fun , dry humping is as smutty as this part goes next part will be more spicy if another part is wanted that is ?

The hard deck well was the hard deck , the place filling up , tag chasers sizing up what  would be their goal for the night as the naval officer done the same.   bob nursed his ginger ale listening to phoenix talking away to him and javy , watching rooster and jake sizing the sea of woman as well as each other like a competition  and listening to fanboy talking about the latest season of some fantasy show he was watching as payback simply asked what he done last night  . that was til the buzzing of his phone pulled from his pocket looking at the string of texts coming up , he knew she was in san diego , they planned to meet up some point  but what he didn’t expect an SOS  and his little sister almost begging him to get her .  He tensed up standing almost spilling his soda . 

“ hey what’s wrong” phoenix asked concerned tone pulling his fellow dagger squads attention. 

“ i gotta go my little sister is in trouble and needs me , shit where are my key” he panicked looking around. 

“ pocket come on” nat took the keys from his pocket placing them in his hand. 

“ hey i’ll pay your tab” she smiled softly as he nodded . 

“ we’ll come too incase “ rooster pulled the nearest to him which happened to be hangman and fanboy . 

Rushing out he was scared shitless afraid of what was going on and what trouble she could of gotten into at a comic book convention . 

The crowd thick ,  eager  fans pushing and shoving dying to  get a touch even a glimpse of the panels and their stars  and usually she was the same . an eager bunny ready to hear the plans and spoilers to a new movie coming .  But now she felt small , tiny as she looked down at her costume , the cosplay she took months perfecting  and yet the whole mood soured by her so called best friend and her weird ass boyfriend . it was honestly so childish and petty but hell her family told her to watch out for that one  and now she was stranded at a convention in san diego the only upside was her brother being stationed here somewhere she was unsure where but honestly the “ i told you so “ lecture would be worth it if it meant she wasn’t left alone in a big place she no idea where she was .   a few  saw her distress eager to help even offering to stay with her while she  text her brother  and if he was coming they would stay til she was safe .  and they did but she eventually told them she was fine making her way out to the entrance knowing her brother was on the way . it really wasn’t her fault and should of seen it coming the whole trip was iffy carrying the bags of her back as she soldiered on to out to the front.  She felt sick and scared and now she was crying outside dressed up while people looked at her like she was some kind of weirdo . 

“ hey sweetcheeks what’s the tears for “ a voice called looking to see a dude coming her way dressed as batman not even a good batman more dollar store kind. 

�� i’m ok i just wanna be alone thank you “ she sniffled moving away .

“ come on don’t be like that  you shouldn’t cry your too hot too cry”  he smiled hand coming to her cheek as she pulled away . “ come on i’m nice guy” he said standing to her closer .

“ stand back “ she snapped only for him to pull her arm harder and her knee to come up hitting him so hard honestly she turned his balls into  a bat cave sending him  groaning to the ground only the dude seemly wasn’t happy to be bested as he pulled her again . 

“ LET HER GO” was all she heard and seen was her brother and three men charging towards her. 

“ fuck off man we’re talking “ the man groaned still trying to push past the pain . 

“ no were are not douche wayne” she stomped on his foot and  grabbing her bags and running to her big brother .   as he went to follow her only for bob to pull her behind him . 

“ i’d walk if i were you these ain’t costumes little boy” the tall blonde smirked as  the man finally caught a look ,   his face draining of any color staring up at the men before him .  walking away muttering something about her being “ a bitch anyway” . 

“ what the hell why you alone where’s annabelle “ bob asked checking her over making sure she wasn’t hurt although her arm was red. 

“ she left me here , her stupid boyfriend kept making sleazy comments and she blamed me after i told him stop  she got my bags and stuff out of her car and they drove off left me here” she sniffled tears filling her eyes. 

“ come on we get you back to mine knew she was a snake “ he gruffed, throwing his coat over her body . 

“ thank you and you guys “ she turned to see his friends all bashful smiled thrown her way . 

“ Did you know bob’s sister was hot” rooster whispered as the two men shook their  heads . 

“ hey baby on board you gonna introduce us to this sweetheart” the blonde called . 

“ hangman  , rooster , fanboy this is my little sister y/n  , y/n this is three of the  seven dagger squad member .. now there come “ he said still pissed she was left stranded and hell annabelle was definitely not gonna be let off with it when he told his other two sisters . she was the baby of the family of course they were protective . 

She sat in the car , she just wanted to get in her pj’s and binge a comfort show but now she was hyper aware of the beautiful ass men in the back seat of  the car . 

“ nice costume darling “ the blonde drawled . 

“ its a cosplay man , right pretty girl..who is it ? “ the mustache man scoffed before a sweet smile turned to her . 

“ Daenerys targaryen “ the one with the kind eyes spoke up.  “ violet eyes “ he explained. 

“  exactly you got that from the white hair and violet eyes most people thought i was Rhaenyra since the whole house of dragons thing “ . 

“ i recognised the clothes from the season one when she was with the dothraki” he spoke up getting more animated as the other two looked completely lost .

“ hey ten point to ..” she paused unsure which one he was but she was guessing who it might be. 

“ fanboy ma’am but mickey is fine” he smiled . 

“ well ten points for mickey “ she giggled . 

“ hey that’s show were they have sex and dragons right” the blonde asked. 

“ yes but it more to it hangman right … i’m bradley “. 

“ he’s right a lot more than sex and dragons but they are cool too i guess” she snorted only for her phone to start buzzing . “ you called mama” she squeaked . 

“ sorry” bob winced although he was on partly sorry . 

“ hey mama … no i’m ok now bobby got me … yeah i’ll stay with him tonight … no mama i haven’t even told him that part” she whined .  

“ told me what?” . 

“ fine i’ll put you on speaker “ she sighed . 

“ bobby baby she can stay with you when she moves there right?” 

“ MAMA im a grown ass woman” she exclaimed .

“ bobby ?” her mother voice called . 

“ of course she can” he nodded . 

“ y’all can hear me right “ she turned to the guys in the back who eagerly nodded.  “ you  know i’m twenty two years old right i ain’t a baby” she called down phone. 

“Thanks bobby “ her mother called.

“Whoops bad signal” she rolled her eyes hanging . 

“ real mature grown up” bob chuckled as he hit the answer button on his car and she groaned face red of course this would happen around the hot guys .

Pulling into bobs  driveway she barely spoke given he was too busy talking to their mom and then it was their dad soon the whole family as she honestly was wondering if the creepy batman was a better choice after all.  She stood stretching out as the guys got out the car too even bob was slightly confused. 

“ can you order pizza bobby i need to shower and wallow for the night maybe watch a movie or two maybe avengers or something”she smiled weakly . 

“Ohh good choice  nat and the guys are on their way “ rooster smiled brightly .

“ oh cool well i’ll go shower” she ran into the house as bob looked into the groupchat . 

“ really hangman “ he rolled his eyes.  “ baby on boards got hot ass sister you gotta see this”  he read the message out . 

“ hey i mean since she gonna be living in san diego it good she has friends right “ he patted his arm heading in the house a swagger on him  ready to  put on his A game .

 “ i won’t let bagman get your sister plus i feel like we had a connection “rooster called as he ran into the WSO  house. 

“ you not going to say anything?” bob look at his friend. 

“ wonder which avenger she like most i like the falcon or winter soldier“ fanboy mused walking with  bob .

It didn’t take long for nat , payback and javy to show up all curious to see how hot said sister was  til she walked out wearing sweats and oversized t-shirt , hair air drying free from the long white wig as she stood seeing more people standing in her brothers living room .  

“ hi i’m nat you must be y/n it nice to meet you “ the dark hair woman stood forward . 

“ nice to meet you too bobby told me all about you .. all of you actually kinda already know all your names “ she chuckled. 

“ yeah well ok come on lets get the movie on “ bob rolled his eyes as she made her way in  her eyes looking to see where to sit and seeing those kind eyes barely looking her eye or trying not to . 

“ mind if i i sit here” she asked pointing to the spot as mickey just smiled the two not even acknowledging the shoving match of the other trying to get the other side til she felt herself bouncing slight. 

“ let watch the revengers huh sweetheart” jake flashed as flirty smile as both her and mickey’s heads shot in his direction . “ if it scary let me know , ill protect ya” he winked . 

“ dude it’s superheroes” rooster rolled his eyes .

“ what one should we watch ohhh maybe timeline order or  we could do mini marathon of them separately although it would only work for some maybe timeline order is best”she mused. 

“ timeline would be better although cause then if we went separately well we would have to watch the series” mickey agreed . 

“  i do need to rewatch the falcon and winter soldier” she nodded . 

“ lets watch that movie” jake nodded. 

“ it’s series no … we could switch and watch different franchise maybe star wars the new acolyte is out “ she mused. 

“ i have yet to watch that i’ve heard mixed review so i’m sort of well waiting to form my own opinion .. if you feeling the superhero vibe we could watch the boys “ he point out as the other were totally lost . 

“ that makes me want to watch supernatural i mean jensen ackles as soldier boy is wow but i do love me some dean winchester” she nodded in agreement. 

“ good omen always makes me wanna watch doctor who obviously david tenant is fantastic but he is my favorite doctor”he chuckled . 

“ oh my god you seeing what i’m seeing “ nat whispered as two nerded out . 

“ unfortunately i do” bob gulped. 

“ can we watch shawshank or something while they figure out well i don’t have a clue what they're even talking about now “ jake head tilted. 

“ i mean i love the last of us the casting is spot on but if they are  sticking to the source material and timeline i am so not looking forward to season two but i am so excited as well “ she sighed .  ( cause same ) 

“ are we invisible to them ?” javy asked looking around the room . 

“ i think that us out of the race “ rooster  chuckled . 

“ are we watching a movie or not” jake asked confused completely and utterly . 

“ oh shit sorry erm we could watch..” 

“ we’re gonna watch shawshank “ bob spoke up saving the whole room from another nerd session .   “ no talking steven king” he added making her mouth close. 

“ i was gonna ask if pizza was coming “ she huffed . 

“ steven king is cool though” mickey whispered making her nod eagerly . 

It was six month since her brother rescued her from being stranded in comic con , creepy batman and meeting his friends  who were also her friends even if she was ten years younger than them it still was nice being able to come to a new place and not feel so alone .  going to the hard deck being able to head to a group and not being a loser sitting on her own .  also another thing she loved was being able to be herself especially with mickey probably only one of the group who shared her love for the things of the nerdy side of life .  the two would talk from everything from gaming , anime and comics . most of time the rest of the group left them to it because it was like they were talking another language.  They did like watching it unfold even bob made his peace at thought of his friend and little sister maybe striking up some form of romance . the only thing that was stopping them was well them , both oblivious to the other feelings that even stevie wonder could see .  so maybe a little help would be ok , a little meddling would be helpful and give them the push they needed . 

She was getting ready knowing the dagger squad coming over for a night of gaming  which honestly she didn’t think twice about  knowing it was probably going to be a few games of mario kart  til jake says it not real game like pool or darts when he loses.  She felt a little silly doing her make up and hair nothing major but she like looking nice especially when a certain hot as fuck WSO was going to be there . she couldn’t help the crush that grown , he was well hot , nerdy and a sweetheart she didn’t even stand a chance .  yet anytime she flirted it was falling on deaf ears or unless it was his way of being kind and not out right rejecting her but hey it didn’t help to look right?. 

He was nervous  , like hands sweating as he walked up his fellow WSO porch all because he had a major crush on his little sister . He didn’t even have an excuse the moment he saw her as Daenerys he was  smitten and the more time he spent time and got to know her  that just made him a goner. Never had he connected with someone  so easily  getting to truly be himself yeah payback was his buddy but even he had to tell mickey to talk about something else , y/n didn’t and when she did it was talked about some just along the line of it .    her smile took his breath away , her eyes made him get lost in them  just everything about her had him falling more and more.

Just as he was about to knock bob open the door stepping out looking at the man smiling nervously before walking around as if he was leaving .

“ wait is it not game night?” he checked his phone checking he had the right night unless he conjured the whole thing .

“ please don’t mess up cause hangman said he has dibs “ was all bob said before running to his car and driving off.

“ where’s he going “ she asked standing at front door brows furrowed .

“Think flying finally caught up to the guys i think they forgot tonight i can go if you want” he curse the lame stupid mind of his .

“ i mean or you could say and we could actually play something decent don’t get me wrong the italian plumber is cool but well it nice to play other game with more to em “ she smiled widely .

“ Or hear me out we can actually watch something we like “ .

“ star war marathon ?”

“ star wars “ he confirmed as two ran into the house excitedly .

Working in a team as she got the snacks and drink and he got the movie up and ready internally screaming to calm the fuck down . his hands so sweaty he was would drop the remote out of his hand and the way his heart was beating she had to of heard it . he felt like a nervous teen being in presence of his crush those nerves pulsing through every fiber his body making him shiver at possibly of making a huge fool of him .

“ you ok .. cold here let me get you a blanket “ those eyes filled with concern or worry making him melt like a puddle maybe it was good thing having her doting on him like this and her attention yet that made him notice that was always something he had. He wondered why that was but the though went as fast as it came the moment She sat down putting The blanket On the two of Them only then he notice the light were dimmed god he needed to get his shit together .

Maybe she was too close way to close , he could probably hear how hard her heart was beating or the way her breathing was labored. hopefully the movie would help distract her , let her gather herself . She watched the text coming on mouthing the lines she seen so many before only to hear the mumbling of said words making her head turn to see mickeys mouth moving she couldn't stop it the giggle that spilled from her lips making his cheeks heat up.

“ sorry” he winced .

“ no don't be it cute“ she whispered unaware her world had on him . the whole time she tried and really tried keeping her eyes on the screen but it was hopeless when they would drift and land on mickey . studying every feature on his face those kind eyes , to the chiseled jawline

“ does he know how hot he is” she thought only it seemed she was thinking out loud .

“ does who know?” .

“ em han solo of course” of course her brain would betray her .

“ i think he does” he chuckled . “ really han solo?” he teased .

“ yeah like you're not gonna drool when leia gets in that bikini” she shot back. “ That is my next cosplay idea” she mused only for him to choke on the air and internally thank whatever god there was a blanket was covering in now. “ wow that bad?” she joked .

“ oh quite the opposite i mean jesus you might kill some dude with heatstroke it will that hot “ he absent mindlessly confessed.

“ i think your being too kind” she snorted .

“ i’m being deadly honest hell have you seen yourself you make jake nervous not that he admit it out loud but shit you would send a guy into cardiac arrest” .

“ yeah ok says the hottest guy ever “ she scoffed only to freeze .

“ hottest guy ever ?” he didn't know were this confidence came from but shot was he gonna question it .

“ so hot id give a dude a heart attack ? “ she countered.

“ i stand by what i said “ he turned so he was facing her the movie long forgotten in the background .

“ i stand by what i said” she copied his movement turning to face him , eyes darting to his lips biting her own .

“ can i .. i wanna kiss you so bad right now” he licked hos lips hands itching to touch her skin .

“ i kinda hope you do “ she smiled softly. that was it that was the ok he needed to surge forward pressing his lips on her . every cliche that she read , seen or heard . those things she felt skeptical about made her want to kick herself cause as she felt herself kissing mickey garcia she understood it all , felt it all . those firework , puzzle piece coming to get , lighting her own dark world , nerve coming alive sort of moment , the soft moan that came muffled by each other . his hand nestled at back of her head and other on her hip pulling her closer her hand scratching the back of his neck . hating her lungs and their stupid need for oxygen she pulled back slightly her head pressed again his delighting in the turn about in the night as he couldn't stop like he was addicted between taking breathes plant soft kisses upon her lips . the kiss starting again more heated as she straddled his lap feeling him nipping her lower lip as she gave him the entrance they both needed , that twirl and dance feeling the taste of each in a tango while his hand fell her hips . her skin heated, burning in a desire that only he could quench . the need building in her core needing the friction she ground down that delightful feeling of him growing hard beneath her , hands guiding her movement panting foreheads pressed together eye locked. blown lust filled pupil and lidded eye mirror between the two as groan came from his mouth and whimpers spilled from her . he could feel that winding and tightening feeling that was building like all his sense on her . only her scent filled his nose , only her sounds filled his ears and one her touch was all that matter . he was addicted not knowing how he went so long in life and never feeling this , fuck he felt like he was robbed . in all that both so lost in a bubble of lust it was lost on them the sound of a key in a door not til they heard the “ Hell yeah” that broke the spell , burst that bubble as mickey looked to see the horrified face of some of dagger squad and proud smile on hangmans .

“maybe you should come stay in mine” nat winced turning and leading bob out the door as hangman walked over high fiving his friend as others gave an awkward wave as the front door closed .

“ they're gone” he whispered abd yet her head didnt lift her cheeks were to red at the fact her brother just caught her like a horny teenager dry humping and heavy petting one of his friends well she was definitely never going to live that down .

“ hey come on” he kissed her cheek hand rubbing up her back she let out content hum at the feeling before she sat up .

“ did this a little backwards but i would love take you out …on a date” he smiled shyly .

“ take me out for breakfast but first mickey … take me to bed” she giggled grinding her hips down . her shrieks filled the house with how fast he lift her up fuck it she already got caught might as well go big or go home as he carried her down the hall .

[redhope446]

Anchored Desire- One

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw

Synopsis: You joined a naval crew to write a story, but Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw is making it impossible to focus. His cocky charm and constant flirting have the tension between you both building, and you’re not sure how much longer you can resist.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, flirting, kissing

~~~

The sharp scent of salt filled the air as the Pacific Ocean stretched before you. You leaned against the ship’s railing, the wind tugging at your hair as you watched the sun melt into the horizon. The golden-orange hues painted across the water were beautiful, but the gnawing unease in your chest made it hard to fully appreciate the view.

This assignment was supposed to be simple: embed with a naval squadron, write a feature piece about the lives of fighter pilots, and return home with a killer story. You hadn’t expected the chaos of life at sea, the ceaseless motion of the ship, or the crew’s endless energy. And you certainly hadn’t expected Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw.

You’d seen him the moment you boarded. He was impossible to miss—the broad shoulders, the aviator sunglasses, the cocky grin that could disarm anyone in a five-mile radius. He exuded confidence in a way that made it hard not to look at him, even when you told yourself not to. Unfortunately, he seemed to know exactly the effect he had on you.

“Didn’t think you’d last this long,” a familiar, teasing voice cut through your thoughts.

You glanced over your shoulder, and there he was, leaning casually against the railing a few feet away. His flight suit was unzipped halfway, revealing the gray undershirt clinging to his chest. His dog tags gleamed in the fading sunlight, drawing your eyes for just a second too long.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you shot back, turning to face him fully.

Rooster smirked, the corner of his mouth quirking up in that infuriatingly charming way. “Just saying, most people who aren’t used to life at sea don’t look as steady as you do right now. Guess I underestimated you.”

“Guess you did,” you replied, lifting your chin slightly. “I can handle myself just fine, thanks.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that,” he said, taking a step closer. His voice dropped slightly, carrying a hint of something warmer, something that made your pulse quicken. “But you’re new here, and this isn’t exactly a walk in the park. Might help to have someone looking out for you.”

“Let me guess,” you said, crossing your arms and raising an eyebrow. “You’re volunteering?”

He shrugged, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Just doing my civic duty. Wouldn’t want you falling overboard or anything.”

The ship rocked slightly, and you instinctively reached for the railing to steady yourself. Rooster’s smirk deepened. “Careful there. Starting to think you might need my help after all.”

“I’m fine,” you insisted, though the warmth creeping up your neck betrayed your composure.

“Sure you are,” he said, stepping closer until he was barely a foot away. His gaze lingered on your face, then dropped, just briefly, to your lips. When he met your eyes again, the playful edge was still there, but it was joined by something darker, something that made your stomach flip.

“You always this cocky?” you asked, trying to sound unimpressed, but your voice wavered slightly.

“Only when I’m right,” he replied smoothly. “And I’m pretty good at reading people. For example…” He leaned in, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. “I think you like the attention more than you’re letting on.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. His proximity, the low rumble of his voice, and the heat radiating off him left you momentarily speechless.

“Cat got your tongue?” he teased, a hint of laughter in his tone.

“Maybe I just don’t think you’re worth responding to,” you finally managed, though the flush in your cheeks betrayed your words.

“Hmm.” He tilted his head, studying you. “You’re feisty. I like that.”

Before you could retort, the ship rocked again, harder this time, and you lost your footing. Rooster’s hands shot out, catching you by the waist and pulling you against him. The impact sent a jolt through your body as you found yourself pressed against his chest.

“You’ve got to stop falling for me,” he said, grinning down at you.

You groaned, your face burning as you tried to pull away. “You’re insufferable.”

“But you’re still here,” he pointed out, his hands lingering on your waist longer than necessary.

“Not by choice,” you muttered, though the way your heart was racing told a different story.

“Whatever you say,” he said, finally letting you go but not stepping back. His eyes searched your face, and for a moment, the teasing grin softened into something more genuine.

The two of you stood there, the tension thick between you as the sun dipped below the horizon. The distant sound of waves crashing against the ship filled the silence, but all you could focus on was the way his gaze lingered on yours.

“Why are you really here?” he asked suddenly, his voice quieter now.

You blinked, caught off guard by the shift in his tone. “What do you mean?”

“You’re good at deflecting,” he said, leaning against the railing again, though he didn’t move far from you. “But you’ve got this look, like there’s more going on under the surface. I’m curious.”

You hesitated, unsure how to respond. He had a way of cutting through your defenses, and it made you nervous. “Maybe I just like a good story,” you said finally.

“Or maybe you’re looking for something more,” he countered, his gaze steady.

His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. You didn’t know what to say, and for once, Rooster didn’t fill the silence with a joke or a smirk. He just watched you, his expression unreadable.

The ship rocked again, and this time, you didn’t stumble. But as you gripped the railing, you couldn’t shake the feeling that Bradley Bradshaw was far more dangerous than you’d given him credit for—and not because of his skills as a pilot.

~~~

Posted Part Two! Decided to continue the story!

[uhohnotthisagain]

Top Gun Maverick Masterlist

masterlist

beyond these four walls

contains: imagines

rooster

ddejavuvu

contains: just bradley :)

masterlist

hcu

contains: a lot of mav and ice but some rooster and hangman

masterlist

writing dumpster

contains: rooster, bob, fanboy

masterlist

roosterforme

contains: oml such good stuff, literally will read for hours on end x

masterlist

witchwyfe

contains: rooster and hangman

masterlist

gennyanydots

contains: bangers

masterlist

blurbs

sehnsuchts trunken

contains: bangers

masterlist

roosterbruiser

contains: bangers

masterlist

lostdreamerblog1

contains: imagines plus spn (haven’t read them tho)

masterlist

sometimesanalice

contains: bangers

masterlist

ultralightpoe

contains: just jake so far

masterlist

spideystevie

contains: jake and bradley

masterlist

topguncortez

contains: bangers

masterlist

callsignmeiga

contains: topgun 1986 and maverick

masterlist

callsignhoney

contains: once again, bangers

masterlist

notroosterbradshaw

contains: good shit

masterlist

birdybatwrites

contains: just a few hangmans

masterlist

sebsxphia

contains: bangers + filth

masterlist

bussyslayer333

contains: bangers + filth

masterlist

oh to be leah

contains: you guessed it, bangers

masterlist

andorskenobi

contains: bangers

masterlist

seresinhangmanjake

contains: currently just jake but bangers

masterlist

bradshawsbitch

contains: bops

masterlist

rhettabbotts

contains: bops

masterlist

waklman

contains: bops

masterlist

mothdruid

contains: bops

masterlist

lewmagoo

contains: bops

masterlist

jupitercomet

contains: bops

masterlist

tongue like a razor

contains: bops

masterlist

gretagerwigsmuse

contains: bops

masterlist

with a happy refrain

contains: bops

masterlist

the drone ranger

contains: bops

masterlist

fanboy garcia

contains: bops

masterlist

eternal sams

contains: bops

masterlist

sweet little gingy

contains: bops

masterlist

softspiderling

contains: bops

masterlist

stcverogers

contains: bops

masterlist

a reader and a writer

contains: bops

masterlist

katsu28

contains: bops

masterlist

say al0e

contains: bops

masterlist

waklman

contains: bops, i couldn’t find a masterlist so this is just the pinned post in their profile xx

masterlist

greymoonfeelings

contains: bops

masterlist

familyvideostevie

contains: bops

[thedroneranger]

Call You Mine

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw

Précis: It's hard to get over Bradley Bradshaw. And who can blame you? Love makes us crazy. If it doesn't, are you doing it right?

Note: Excited to finally post this! Life made this one take a little longer. This is one of two entries for @cherrycola27’s #top gun taylors version challenge! Congratulations, on the milestone, babe—I'm sure we'll be celebrating another soon! This fic is inspired by a T. Swift favorite of mine, Don't Blame Me. Enjoy!

Warnings: 18+ only, explicit: stalking, violence, attempted murder, masturbation.

Word count: 3.5k

What did he see in her? 

It wasn’t the first time that thought had crossed your mind, and it surely wouldn’t be the last.

Her hair was down, and her outfit casual—light-colored jeans with a loose-fitting t-shirt front tucked. Sunglasses shading her eyes, she sipped coffee and scrolled her phone while she waited for him. After what seemed like an eternity, he joined her. 

Through narrowed eyes, you watched as she stood to greet him and they embraced. She threw her arms around his neck, getting on her tiptoes, while his arms slung low on her waist.

You and Natasha met a handful of times. Bradley insisted he and Nat were friends and nothing more. Of course, you didn’t believe Bradley for a second. Every touch, every hug, every late night phone call said otherwise. 

They were so natural together. Like birds singing as the morning sun rose or crickets crooning in the twilight. 

No wonder Bradley thought it couldn’t work with you. How could he when there was five-foot-seven worth of gorgeous grin and glowing skin staring at him over a coffee cup?

She had to go.

Sinking lower in the driver’s seat of your vehicle, you watched as they got up together. After disposing of their cups, Bradley walked Natasha to her SUV, which you knew was parked around the corner. As they disappeared, you punched the ignition button and pulled out of your curbside spot across the street.

“Catch you later tonight?” Natasha asked as she slid into the driver’s seat. 

“Absolutely.” Bradley rasped, holding the door open. They grinned at each other as he closed it. As she pulled away, and they exchanged waves through the window. 

Bradley waited on the street, hands in his jean pockets and watched until her tail lights illuminated at a stop sign before she drove through the intersection. Then, he walked a few spaces up to his Bronco and hopped in. 

This morning, when you tailed Natasha, her day was rather uneventful. You waited until you spotted her sleek SUV rolling out of the private garage of her condo building. Shifting into drive, you followed as she first stopped at the post office. Once she came back out, Natasha took a call while she sat in the vehicle, shuffling around, looking for something she eventually found. 

Next, she stopped for gas and went inside to get a shitty gas station latte. Seemed to be a routine indulgence for her. After that, she spent what seemed like an eternity in the grocery store. Once all her groceries were loaded into her vehicle, Natasha headed back to her condo that was tucked in a mid-sized building on the downtown main drag.

You’d found the building plans in the public records and knew which unit was hers. Although the building wasn’t that large, it was well-secured. In contrast, Bradley’s bungalow had a much lower security threshold. Plus, you were familiar with the layout. 

Since you’d followed Natasha this morning, and would bet your next month’s salary that she and Bradley were meeting at the Hard Deck tonight, you decided to see what Bradley was up to this afternoon.

Leisurely, you drove to Bradley’s, taking an elongated route. As you turned onto Bradley’s street, you killed the music, glided by his house, confirmed his Bronco was parked in the driveway and continued on to the street parallel to his. You parked in the spot that gave you the perfect view of his backyard and into his house through a couple curtainless windows. 

There he was. Shirtless. Floating around, bopping his head to the music surely streaming through the living room sound system. Watching through your camera lens, you snapped a few images. 

As you captured photos, you recalled the couple times you’d witness him and Natasha twirling around, dancing. Faces lit with laughter as he spun her around, and then dipped her for the finale. 

Bradley never did that with you.

The burn of jealousy you felt quickly washed away as your lens zeroed in on Bradley’s broad back. Your thoughts drifted to touching Bradley—every dimple, every tendon, every scar. 

Of course, the few months you and Bradley spent together weren’t sexless. For you, it was some of the best sex of your life, and Bradley seemed to have no complaints. A matter of fact, each moan or toe curl you were able to pull from Bradley seemed like a badge of honor.

Thinking about Bradley laying underneath you as your hand steadied yourself on his sculpted chest had you sighing deeply. You could practically feel his hip bones cradling your thighs as you rode him and his hands curving around your hips.

The memory of his thumb drawing tight circles on your clit had you sinking into your seat, squeezing your eyes closed and heat gathering in your lap. Replays of your sexcapades continued to flood your mind, filling your dam. You needed a release. Soon, your jeans were unzipped and your legs as wide as the car seat would allow.

Your lip disappeared between your teeth as you slipped your middle and ring fingers into yourself, slicking them to then paint your swollen clit so you could attempt to recreate even a fraction of the pleasure Bradley had given you several times over. 

Envisioning Bradley’s large hand palming your chest, and then sliding up to cover your throat, had you gripping the door handle with your free hand as your pace quickened. The heat in your belly was building to boil, the pot lid close to skittering off.

Bradley’s face as he finished—the furrow of his brow, twitch of his mustache—flashed through your mind and pushed you across the finish line. A sigh only for you left your lips as you let your release wash over you, dissipating the tension. Pulling yourself back together, you continued watching Bradley through the back windows. 

On his days off, he always hit the gym late in the afternoon. You attributed it to keeping his daily shower count to one. Because, undoubtedly, Bradley would come home post-workout to get ready for the Hard Deck. 

While Bradley was at the gym, you were going to the hair appointment you’d scheduled a few weeks ago. A smile pulled your lips as you perfectly parallel parked across the street from the salon. Marc, your stylist, was there to greet you with open arms and an Americano.

Like all trusted stylists, Marc knew all about your life, including Bradley. He knew all about Bradley’s longtime friend who had had her chance to shoot her shot with him. However, she hesitated too long, and now you were in the picture. But that didn’t stop her from crossing boundaries even though you asked her to stop. 

Tonight, you were going to end it once and for all.

After an afternoon in Marc’s hands, you were practically a new person. A cute sundress would compliment your makeover perfectly. Back home, you twirled in front of the full-length mirror in your bedroom, deciding which dress was best. Eventually, you decided on the knee-length one with flutter sleeves and a deep V-neck. 

Tonight was a night that your inability to be anywhere in a timely fashion paid off. By the time you reached the Hard Deck, the parking lot was fairly full, allowing you to park toward the back of the lot undetected. With one final look in the rearview mirror, you slid out of the driver’s seat and headed for the front door. 

Bradley’s Bronco was unmistakable, proudly parked as close to the entrance as possible. A few spaces down was Natasha’s luxury SUV.

The bar was crowded, so you easily disappeared into the sea of civilians and servicepeople. Head on a swivel, still waiting for Natasha or Bradley in your peripheral, you causally wound through the crowd, venturing around the venue. 

There he was. The floral print Aloha shirt wrapping his broad shoulders gave him away. Natasha stood tucked into his side, his arm draped over her shoulders. You recognized many of the faces they were laughing with from photos. 

With them in your sight, you headed to the bar to find a spot with a view but that also kept you in the crowd. The woman behind the bar didn’t recognize you as you ordered. One of the few times you’d been here with Bradley, he had introduced you to the bartender, who also owned the establishment. 

Drink in hand, you slipped into a seat that had conveniently opened up. Bradley and Natasha bantered with each other, with their friends and shittalked while facing each other in a game of pool. 

“Hey.” The greeting bore a hint of southern drawl. You turned to see one of their friends, the good looking blond, dragging his gaze over you. You coolly returned his greeting and took a sip of your drink. 

The man had no clue who you were. Not that you could blame him. He’d met you once and had seen you maybe two or three times total. Plus, with your drastic cut and color, you might as well be a complete stranger. 

He made small talk while he waited for a fresh round of drinks. As he departed, he invited you to stop by the group. Upon his departure, you gave him an open-ended response and a wink. 

It amazed you how few boundaries Bradley and Natasha had with each other. As the night wore on, you watched each touch grow more intimate. At one point, Bradley had his arm wrapped around Natasha’s hips with his hand in her front pocket. It was a move he had put on you while you two walked to keep you close. 

You watched as each drink made them a little looser, a little flirtier. At one point, you watched Natasha play wingman for every man in their group—except Bradley. 

At last call, the crowd began to thin. You finished your drink, cashed out and slunk to your vehicle. Hand on the door and a glance over your shoulder, you slipped into the backseat. Sitting behind the passenger seat gave you a better view of the building. To the unassuming eye, your vehicle was one of several destined to spend the night in the lot.

Before Bradley and Natasha spilled out of the Hard Deck, you watched the blond from earlier climb into a black F-150 Raptor. You were surprised to see him alone. Must be all talk. A few more familiar faces filtered out. 

Finally, they shuffled out with another friend. The friend you were convinced was pining for Natasha but was too shy to do anything about it. He and Bradley chatted while Natasha clung to Bradley’s side. She clearly was not driving tonight. They parted ways, the shy friend going to his vehicle, and Bradley putting Natasha in the passenger seat of the Bronco before getting in. 

First, Shy Friend eased out of the parking lot. Then, Bradley backed out and headed for the exit. A smile pulled your lips as he turned left, signaling he was taking her home with him.

This time you drove straight to the spot on the street parallel to Bradley’s that had the perfect sightline into his house. From there, you watched as he carried Natasha through the hall, disappearing in the direction of his bedroom. Eventually, the lights died and a stillness fell upon the house.

Quiet as possible, you slipped out of your vehicle. As you walked, you slipped on leather gloves you’d had for ages but never had a reason to wear. Knowing the family living in the house directly behind Bradley’s was away on vacation, you took the most direct route to his house. Under the cover of the thick trees and sparse streetlights, you snuck down their side yard and into the back. 

You easily scaled the standard chain-link fence that conjoined their yards. Thankfully, Bradley kept his yard tidy. Looking at his grill and the outdoor dining set made you think of the few times he’d grilled for you. Surely Natasha was reaping that benefit tenfold now. 

Standing in front of his backdoor, you gingerly grasped the handle and twisted the knob. It gave you zero resistance as the door floated open. Bradley would absolutely be locking his back door after this. Making sure the hinges didn’t  betray you, you took your time stepping across the threshold and closing yourself in. 

Enveloped in a new level of darkness, you stood for a minute, allowing your eyes to adjust. Slowly, you began to see the familiar lines of the counter and the silhouettes of appliances. 

You wanted to touch everything but knew to touch nothing. Your ears were on alert, listening for the slightest disturbance. So far, the only thing you could hear was Bradley’s deep breathing that, arguably, was a light snore. However, it didn’t sound like it was coming from his room.

Curiosity piqued, you glided toward the living room. Bingo. Splayed on the oversized, for his comfort, couch was Bradley. He was in a deep slumber. You admired him. Lips barely open, but enough to produce his audible breathing. Curls mussed and resting on his bulging bicep that acted as an extra pillow. The man ran hot, so the blanket he started his slumber with was now tangled at his feet, leaving his form clad only in drawstring gym shorts. 

As you watched him, the streetlight in front of his house gave the living room a bit more light, his chest rose and fell. Your mind wandered to why he was on the couch and not in his bed with Natasha. You didn’t think too hard about it, though. It made your task easier.

Releasing you had your fists balled at your sides, you unclenched them as you turned to head for the bedroom. The door was ajar, just the slightest. Using the back of two gloved fingers, you slowly pushed it open. 

Natasha was nestled under the fluffy bedding in the center of Bradley’s huge bed, sleeping soundly. Your eyes stayed glued to her as you crept into the room and put the door back the way you found it. Staying to the edge of the room, you calculated your plan of attack. Watching her sleep with a neutral expression, seemingly relaxed, you thought you might be beginning to understand why Bradley was so taken with her.

Gaze never leaving Natasha, you approached the edge of the bed. She didn’t stir. Removing a glove, you gingerly leaned onto the bed, knee first. Eyes still glued to Natasha for any sign of movement. Eventually, you were leaning over her, face-to-face, really studying her. 

Unable to help yourself, you ran your thumb along her full bottom lip. She was soft, angelic—maybe that’s why Bradley liked her so much. Your face was so close to hers—you really wanted to know what her lips would feel like against yours. Add evidence to the case for why Bradley liked her so much.

While you thought about Natasha’s lips, keeping your gaze on your face, you managed to mount her without disturbance. The amount of down bedding between the two of you was a huge aide in minimizing the movement ripples.

You looked at her one last time as you took one of the pillows her head wasn’t resting on and held it in front of your chest. “Sweet dreams,” you said barely above a whisper as you leaned forward to cover her face with it. 

Your grip was light until you felt her tensing. She was waking, trying to free her arms that were bracketed by your legs and trapped underneath the blankets. Her screams were muffled. “Shh, I’ll take great care of him.” Your closed eyes as you hugged her head with the pillow. Natasha was fighting less and less. 

“What the fuck?!” you heard from behind you. At the same time, you heard the door bang against the wall. You looked over your shoulder to see Bradley charging toward you. Before you could move, his hand was around your neck, ripping you off the bed. Natasha scrambled to the edge of the bed furthest away from you. Bradley was there, arms open, waiting to embrace her. 

Sheer size allowed him to throw you against the dresser a few feet away from the bed. You heard a thud and felt a sharp pain in the back of your head as you hit the heirloom dresser. Your eyes were having a hard time focusing as you slid to the floor. Involuntarily, your hand moved to the back of your head where the pain seared most. As your hand re-entered your field of vision, you could see your blood on your fingertips.

Bradley’s voice sounded distant. Question in his voice as he said your name. However, you looked up to see him kneeling in front of you. Your vision was slightly blurry. “You’ve gone too far this time.” Of course, Bradley still recognized you—some hair dye and a drastic cut wouldn’t fade your face from his memory. 

“What the hell are you doing?” His voice pulled you out of your mind and back into the room.

Natasha bound into the doorway, wearing one of Bradley’s t-shirts. He must’ve dressed her before he put her to bed. They exchanged looks before her gaze dropped to you on the floor. She quickly turned and disappeared.

“Let’s go.” Bradley gruffly grabbed your bicep. He gave you no time to get to your feet. Instead, three quarters of your body dragged along the floor as he pulled you to the kitchen. When he let you go, you slumped to the floor, your forearms stopping your face from hitting the tile. You were still lightheaded with fuzzy vision as you pressed yourself up on your palms.

“Bradley…” You slowly moved into a cross-legged sitting position.

“Don’t.” He cut you off. Bradley squared his body to you, arms across his chest. “There’s no coming back from this.” Bradley was pissed. 

You shook your head. “No, no.” Panic set in. “Don’t blame me!” you squeaked. Tears were beginning to well as you tried to get to your feet. 

“Stay on the floor,” he commanded. His look was deadly. Tears rolled down your cheeks. 

He sighed and ran his hands over his face. Bradley should’ve seen this coming. You were insane. The letters, showing up at his home unannounced, somehow frequenting the same places he did at the same. However, it never crossed his mind that you would try to murder someone, let alone his best friend.

While you reasoned with Bradley, Natasha was standing next to the couch, arms wrapped around herself, staring toward the kitchen. Eyes dilated from shock. She kept forgetting to breathe. When her body finally remembered, the sharp inhale would jolt her back to reality. She could hear Bradley’s voice but was not comprehending his words. The tones of your voice were grating her nerves, causing her arms to constrict tighter around her.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw the front door slowly open. Iced to her spot beside the couch, she watched fingers curl around the edge while the barrel of a standard-issue pistol poked inside. Holding the gun was a plain-clothes police officer. “Jay.” Relief washed through Natasha as she identified the face holding the weapon. 

“Hey, Nat.” Jay mouthed and flashed a reassuring smile. Quickly, he pressed his free pointer finger to his lips. A curt nod from Natasha let him know she understood his command, and then she watched as he stalked toward the kitchen.

A friend of Bradley’s, Jay was supposed to meet them at the Hard Deck earlier but had to cancel due to work. Of course, Natasha’s heart sank a little when she heard, but the text message from him promising to make it up to her eased the discomfort. 

Jay huddled in the kitchen doorway shadows, waiting for his partner to reach the backdoor. Natasha had briefed him on the situation when she called, so they plotted their entry on the drive over. Familiar with Bradley’s house, Jay knew the entry points, so your odds of escaping were minimal. 

Back to the door, you didn’t see a face appear in the corner of the window. Bradley noticed but did not acknowledge in a way that made you aware. Not that it mattered—your vision was hazed between your head injury and the tears. Plus, you were occupied mumbling apologies to Bradley.

Everything happened all at once. The backdoor sprang open, someone jumped on top of you, and a man you had seen a few times stepped out of the shadows, pointing a gun at you. Bradley had fallen back and was standing with Natasha in his arms at the living room-kitchen threshold.

Your mind was numb as the officers cuffed you and read your Miranda rights. The last thing you remembered was falling to your knees in the driveway and yelling for Bradley to forgive you. Standing in the doorway, he looked you dead in the eyes and closed the door.

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[spidey-d00d]

Recommend me the most angsty shit y’all got, I’m deprived

[slwshp]

another one of my (slightly smutty) works on archives. 🤭

[allbark-no-bite]

call it brotherhood (not love).

jake seresin x reader (wc: 6.2k)

summary: jake meets his match in a soldier rather than a sailor. you’re a bit more war torn than he expected, but it’s okay because maybe he is too

warnings: 18+ smut, * graphic descriptions of injuries and death ⚠️

* if you are uncomfortable with this, please don’t read

author’s note: spoiler alert, i know this isn’t the Jake fic that you’ve all been wanting but i swear that one is in the works. i’m about to go back to school and wanted to get this out there for y’all :) (ps i apologize for the lazy ending)

————————————————————————

"At ease, gentlemen —And woman," Admiral Simpson adds after a moment, shooting an uncharacteristically apprehensive look in Phoenix's direction. Payback snorts at his hasty correction, and Jake is surprised when the admiral doesn't fix him with a nasty look.

If the man's cursory show of inclusion perturbs the female pilot, she doesn't show it, and instead she takes a seat with all the rest of them. Jake turns back towards the front of the ready room, sinking down into his chair just a bit, toothpick clenched between his teeth as he waits for the admiral to address them.

However routine, this training meeting was a bit out of left field, especially for a Sunday afternoon. The Dagger squad typically had one weekly, but it was usually led by Maverick and much more informal. That wasn't to say that seeing Beau was surprising, but the man usually steered clear of the wayward captain and left him to his own devices when it came to training the Daggers.

Today the captain sits in the ready room beside the rest of the pilots. Jake watches as Bradley sends his godfather an inquisitive brow from across the room, to which the older man just shrugs. Interesting.

Cyclone clears his throat. "Good afternoon. I apologize for keeping you all, but I promise this will only take a minute of your time. As I'm sure you are all aware, the United States Department of Defense takes immense pride in maintaining one of the most well integrated military forces in the world. It's our job to work closely with other service members to ensure their safety and the safety of our nation." He pauses. "As experienced as you all are, your time here at Topgun has not reflected that."

Jake's brow furrows, his tongue worrying at the toothpick clenched between his teeth as he listens to the admiral go on. Javy shoots him a look but Jake stares ahead, waiting for Beau to continue.

"The permanent installment of your squad here at Miramar was to create a tightly knit group of elite fighter pilots who would be available at a moment's notice, and however successful that may have been, I cannot neglect the fact that comfort builds complacency. Later today, a squad of U.S. Army soldiers will be arriving to aide in your training for the next six weeks. The integration of mixed branch training units has been widely effective around the country, and it's about time we do the same here at Miramar."

With that, the screen positioned on the wall behind him lights up, displaying enlarged headshots of about eight soldiers. The first seven are males of varying ages, but none older than probably thirty. Jake quickly skims over their names and credentials, but when he gets to the last profile, his eyes stop.

The last solider is the only female projected on the screen, but even so she stands out as compared to all the other members of her squad. He can't quite put his finger on why though.

She's uncharacteristically pretty. And by that he means that to most, her appearance would be inherently off putting— even without the straight-mouthed scowl on her face. She's got a square, almost masculine like jawline that hardens her features considerably. Her hair is light, worn from spending too much time in the sun regardless of however dark it may have been naturally. The same goes for her skin, which is comparably bronze in contrast to the tan line on her forehead, he would assume from wearing a patrol cap out in the field.

Her eyes are wild.

And that's when it hits him.

She'd been all over the news just a few months ago. Something about a patrol gone wrong out in the Middle East, which ultimately turned into a high stakes rescue mission to extract the surviving soldiers. They went in hoping to bring back nine men and came out with one. Apparently they didn't even get to recover the bodies.

Jake can't imagine what that'll do to a person.

Before he can stare at her profile any longer, Cyclone quickly clicks off the projection and the image disappears. This time he appears almost nervous as he stares back at them. "These soldiers are recently returning from a deployment in the Middle East, so I trust that you all will do your best to make them feel welcome. If none of you have any questions, that is all. You're dismissed."

---

The following morning, the Jake receives word from Maverick that the Admiral wants to see him in his office. It's not a strange request but certainly raises Jake's attention as to why specifically he was needed.

Upon entering the room, Jake finds not only the Admiral but Maverick and another female that he's yet to have seen before. All heads turn towards him when he enters, as if he were interrupting something. Immediately, Jake snaps to attention, his heels clicking together and his fingers brushing his brow with a sharpness that would make the academy proud.

Cyclone nods in his direction, acknowledging Jake's customary greeting and dismissing him with the notion. "Lt. Seresin," he begins, gesturing to the female standing across the room. "This is Lt. (L/n). She's uh—a member of the squad that I briefed you on yesterday."

He hadn't noticed that she was wearing Army OCPs but he connects the dots as soon as the admiral mentions her name. He remembers reading it on the projector during the meeting.

Rather than introducing herself, the soldier stands rigidly across from him, her arms folded in front of her chest with a look on her face that Jake can only describe as fucking pissed. Unsure of what to do but aware from personal experience with Phoenix that he shouldn't try to cross any unknown boundaries, Jake settles for offering her a respectful nod. She glares back at him.

"You're two of our only service members with active combat experience," Cyclone continues, obviously ignoring the girl's crossed disposition. "I'm hoping that you and Lt. (L/n) can find some common ground. Perhaps it would do you both some good to—"

"Respectfully, sir, if I wanted to vent to someone about my feelings, I'd go see a shrink," the woman growls. "I recommend you do the same, Lt. Seresin." Her tone makes Jake's brow raise slightly in surprise. No one talks to an admiral like that, not even Pete Mitchell.

"Lt. (L/n)," Cyclone snaps. "That's quite enough."

This time, she rolls her eyes with a scoff. "You can't just—"

"Get out."

She clamps her jaw shut but doesn't budge from where her feet are planted in the ground.

"I said, Get. Out," Cyclone reiterates.

The eyes that had caught Jake's attention in the first place fix the admiral with a chilling stare. To Jake, there's something familiar in those eyes. Some sort of unmistakably justifiable rage that runs deeper than just being dismissed from the conversation. Jake watches, his breath stalled as she sets her jaw, unwilling to move, when it hits him. Identical jawlines and untwitching scowls mirror each other.

The illegitimate child of Admiral Beau Simpson stands before him.

He doesn't know how he didn't see it before, granted they don't share a last name, but Jake was aware that the Admiral was divorced, had been for a while. Allegedly he wasn't the marrying type. Jake isn't surprised by the statement. Beau Simpson is a hard man to deal with.

Jake watches in silence as the girl ultimately releases an irritated huff and storms out of the office, slamming the door behind her. He can hear the loud, petulant stomp of her boots as she retreats down the hall. Evidently her looks weren't the only thing that she got from her dad. She had a temper that rivaled even Bradshaw's.

The clearing of the Admiral's throat removes Jake's eyes from the door. "I hope you can forgive my daughter's behavior. Her return to the states has been...difficult."

"I'm sure difficult is the way she would describe you too sir," Maverick jokes.

Cyclone fixes him with a perturbed glare but decidedly ignores his comment in favor of addressing Jake. "Lt. (L/n)'s squadron was ambushed six months ago. Just about everything that could have gone wrong went wrong and she was the only survivor. As her father, I wanted her to accept the Purple Heart and retire." He gestures flippantly towards the door. "Obviously that's not what she did."

Jake speaks for the first time since he entered the room. "Respectfully, sir, I don't blame her. I'm taking this career to the grave. I'm sure both your daughter and Captain Mitchell can agree," he adds glancing over at his instructor.

Before Maverick can voice his agreement, the admiral cuts him off.

"As I'm sure Captain Mitchell can attest to, as her father, I'm just trying to look out for her."

With his preexisting connection to Rooster, the godson that he would risk his career to protect, Maverick has no room to disagree with the admiral. For once, the captain, who usually always has something to say, stands with his palms folded behind his back and keeps his mouth shut.

"As I was saying," Cyclone continues, taking a seat behind his desk and kicking back as if to signal that he's won the conversation. "It is my hope that given your own—" the admiral hesitates for just a moment too long for Jake's liking "—personal experience, you'll be able to get through to her."

Jake swallows and hopes that he doesn't look as uneasy as the insinuation makes him feel. He has to take a moment to reassure himself that the psych unit has repeatedly cleared him for duty and that no one's threatening to take his wings away.

The nights that he wakes up, drenched in sweat, with his fingers wrapped around imaginary joysticks hard enough to make his palms bleed are few and far in between these days. And even those he's gotten good enough at faking like they don't bother him because he hasn't failed a psych evaluation in months.

It doesn't mean he likes to talk about it or that he won't hear the fear in Rooster's voice if he does.

But he's more scared of not flying than anything, so all Jake does is nod and offer a dry, "I'll do my best, sir."

———

PTSD or modern day shell-shock is what they like to call it. You call it waiting on the other shoe to drop.

Because there is always another shoe.

The slam of a beer bottle down on the bar top lights your nerves up like nothing else. It sends your heart straight to your stomach and makes your palms sweat like when you miss a step on the stairs and for a split second, you think you're going to die. You never do of course, but your body is hard wired that way to keep you alive.

There's a flaw in your system that hasn't been right since the east.

You knew that a popular naval bar on a Friday night wasn't the best place for you these days but your nerves had been yearning for an ice cold beer and fuck all if you weren't going to get one. The alcohol would soothe your nerves anyhow.

But after thirty minutes of waiting on said beer, you were beginning to lose your patience. Normally you weren't bothered by that kind of thing. The place was obviously busy and the lone woman behind the bar was doing her best to satisfy the flock of servicemen that only seemed to accumulate with every beer that she handed out.

Just when you're about to give up and leave, a large hand covers your lower back, pressing you forwards through the crowd and toward the bar top.

"Two more on me, please, Penny."

The voice belongs to the tall man standing behind you. He's removed his firm, but respectfully placed palm from your back and is now leaning over you to accept the two dripping bottles of beer. It doesn't take you long to recognize the green of his eyes from a few days prior.

"My dad didn't put you up to this did he?" you ask, somewhat reluctantly taking the bottle that he offers you. It's finger numbing cold, just how you like it.

He kind of just slowly smiles and shakes his head.

Immediately you feel like a jerk. You sigh, dropping your shoulders and smile softly back. "Sorry. That was rude."

"No, ma'am, he didn't. Just had to find out if you smiled like that all the time."

The part of you that's a little bit of a bitch makes you clench your teeth together, tightening the smile that was once spread across your lips. "I'm not looking for that kind of thing right now," is all you say.

You want to tell him that you used to not be so mean.

At the realization that his words had the exact opposite effect of what he was going for, the guy graciously extends his hand. "Look I don't mean to bother you, I just wanted to say hi."

Despite not being keen on his advances, you aren't going to be rude so you accept his outstretched hand. You're surprised by his gentleness. It's not the rough, over-masculine shake you are expecting.

"Lieutenant (Y/n) (L/n)."

"I know your name," he admits with a light, almost embarrassed laugh. "I think everybody in here knows your name."

Your skin prickles. You stare at him stoney faced, bracing yourself for what's going to come out of his mouth. "Why's that?"

The guy—Lt. Seresin—you're remembering, shrugs. "I mean, you're quite the story back here in the states. A bit of a ghost story, I must say."

Ghost story is right. Because who survives that? How the fuck does a twenty-two year old girl survive an outnumbered ambush and not eight men with years of experience? Not someone who deserves to be called a hero, that's for sure.

You're trying your best to keep your cool with him. You know that you're in a public space and he's just being friendly. You used to be so good at this kind of thing, the flirting and small talk.

The thought occurs to you that maybe this is what you need. Maybe this will make you feel normal again. You need to feel normal again.

Maybe that is why you let him lean in closer, buy you another drink when yours runs dry, and another one after that. Maybe that is why you make an effort to laugh when he does, and you close your eyes when he reaches out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

You let out the breath that's been tightening your ribcage and do your best to smile. "Thank you for the beer. You didn't have to do that." You hope the words sound as genuine as they're intended to.

He smiles back like he's supposed to, all polite and inherently forgiving of your original attitude. You catch onto the way it doesn't quite reach his eyes. You're not sure why but it makes you think maybe he's just a bit sad too.

Maybe that is why he lets you wordlessly take his hand and lead him to the back of the bar. Maybe that is why he lets you sink to your knees on the cold, sticky tiles of the men's bathroom floor, his hands already fumbling to unbuckle his belt.

It smells like beer and piss, and you don't even wait for him to get fully hard before you take him in your mouth, your nose buried into his pelvis, where it smells like sweat. It's all wrong and right at the same time, and he won't ask you to stop. He just curls his fingers into a fistful of your hair, pinpricks stinging at your scalp the same way tears sting at your eyes.

He—Jake—he'd told you a while ago, has a pretty cock. At least as pretty as cocks go. Pink and ruddy at the tip, where it mushroomed beautifully. Almost dauntingly long but not grossly so with a throbbing vein on the underside. You run your tongue along it and he muffles a whimper, his fingers wrapping harder around your hair in an effort not to buck up into your mouth. At least he's a gentleman about it.

He's heavy and twitching in your mouth. You feel heavy. He is standing above you, a harsh line of a man against the buzzing bathroom light. You remind yourself to breathe through your nose and he punches himself further, the head of his cock skimming the back of your throat.

You swallow around him, trying to hold together what little is left of your remaining sense of self. It's been a while since you've been so careless as to place yourself in someone else's hands, rolled over and showed your belly to someone who could easily take advantage of you.

Your jaw aches, uncomfortable and familiar, like something you don't want to remember. Tears well up behind your eyes, the threat of an unwanted but unknown feeling looming just out of reach. Jake's hand in your hair hold your head firmly against his pelvis, hips rocking up into your mouth. He sighs like he can finally breathe.

You can't breathe.

You try to and something rasps inside of you, choking. The feeling that had been looming threateningly sparkles through you. Panic.

You know that he tries to settle you, does his best to wipe the tears leaking from your eyes with his thumbs and murmurs softly to you. "Breathe. It's okay, breathe for me."

You can't. You can't breathe.

Your head is pounding and suddenly you aren't kneeling on the bathroom floor of the bar. You're on the ground, crying, screaming like a wounded animal and no one is coming to help. You can almost feel the dirt under your knees, taste the blood in your mouth.

"Y/N, you have to breathe."

Someone's grabbing you, hauling your useless feet across the floor. Your chest hurts like you've been punched with a bowling ball.

"C'mon, let's get some air."

How you end up outside the bathroom is beside you. All you know is one minute you're dying on your knees back in the desert and the next you're being sat down on the back steps of the bar. 

The cool air of the San Diego evening brings you back. That and the press of a cup of ice water to your lips, the condensation dripping from the glass and rolling down your throat. You swallow, letting the cool liquid soothe your burning throat.

You're aware of Jake sitting down beside you, close enough to touch if he wanted to but still keeping his distance. You can feel his eyes on you, watching carefully for a moment before he turns to stare out at the not so distance shoreline.

Your stomach feels odd, like you might be sick.

He probably thinks you're insane. You would think the same. But if he's dying to ask what the hell that was, he's doing a good job of hiding it.

How do you tell him that sometimes you think that you should have died, that sometimes the memories almost kill you?

"I hid."

He looks up from peeling off the label around the neck of his bottle. "What?"

You swallow, trying to collect yourself before your words fail you.

"I hid. A—After I was shot, I didn't get back up. I crawled under the humvee and... and I just laid there. I laid there and I closed my eyes and I prayed. I prayed that they wouldn't notice me lying under there or that they if they did, they would think I was already dead."

A mixture of sweat and dust burns your eyes. When you blink, you can feel the sandy grit trapped between them. You squeeze them shut while trying to swallow back the dryness of your throat in an attempt to alleviate the discomfort, but it doesn't do much. An unwarranted tear escapes and runs down the track of your nose.

With your rifle held closely to your chest, you let it slide down and collect on the bow of your lip. It joins the puddle of sweat that has already accumulated there. Out here, the sun cooks you alive. You swear it's a constant one thousand degrees. The twenty pounds of kevlar doesn't help.

Dirt kicks up beside you and gravel showers your helmet as a round of bullets buries themselves into the ground a mere six inches from your face. You hardly flinch.

Somebody is screaming. The sound of machine gun fire is ringing in your ears. Somebody is screaming.

"(L/N), C'MON. LET'S MOVE."

It's Cain. He's grabbing the strap of your kevlar vest and yanking you to your feet. You scramble after him, desperate not to be left behind. Bullets explode at your feet the moment the two of you emerge from the concealment of the dirt mound. Fear makes you run faster.

You spot Manny crouched behind the tire of the SUV to your right. He's firing rounds into the brush. You can tell that he's bleeding from a wound to his arm and you're about to veer off to help him when his head jerks backwards, the scattered remains of his brain plastered onto the white side of the truck.

You stop running, the words caught in your throat.

"RUN," Cain screams. He'd backtracked a few paces and grabs hold of your vest once again to drag you behind a second SUV. You stumble over him, falling haphazardly onto your rear once he lets go of you. He immediately turns to fire over the hood of the truck, and the bullets hitting the truck stop momentarily.

Clawing at the gravel on the ground, you hurry to scramble to your feet. Your head is pounding, your mouth dry and gritty. Huffing, you glance between Cain, who is fumbling to reload his magazine, and the crumpled figure of Manny a few yards away. You can only hope Ronny is still out there somewhere.

Before you can even try to locate him or any other members of the squad, movement to your left springs your muscles into action. You slam your back into the side door of the SUV just as a round of bullets pelt the spot where you were standing just moments before. Automatically, you raise your gun, returning the fire. There are a few more shots fired in retaliation, but they stop a second later.

Once you're sure they're subdued, you lower your gun, breathing hard. There's so much smoke and debris in the air that you can hardly even see Cain ten feet away. He's shuffling towards you in a low crouch.

"Let's move, (L/n). They know where we are. We've got to find different cover."

You nod, your finger still pressed tightly to the trigger of your weapon. You drop into a crouch and follow behind him as he creeps towards the back of the truck. He pauses a moment, scanning the landscape before looking back at you. His blue eyes are a startling contrast to the dirt and sweat covering his tanned face. He lifts his gun in the direction of a flipped humvee about fifty yards away. His mouth moves in a silent command.

One.

Two.

Three.

The gunfire starts up as soon as the two of you spring from behind the vehicle. You can hear the whizzing of bullets as they just barely miss your head. All you can do is pray you don't trip as you struggle to keep up with Cain. Your lungs burn and your boots feel impossibly heavy.

The terrain is barren but the ground loose, and rocks threaten to upend your footing, slipping out from beneath your feet as the two of you flee towards the vehicle.

30 yards from the humvee, Cain tumbles to the ground with a broken cry. The bullet catches him in the thigh, stopping him mid stride. He hits the ground hard.

Without even thinking, you skid to a stop. Bullets spray the ground around you. Somehow you're more afraid of leaving him than being shot.

"Go!" he yells at you, already trying to shove you away. "Go, I'm coming!"

Already, there's a lake of blood beneath him. You step in it and the ground squelches under your boot. Crimson gushes from his left thigh, effectively saturating the fabric of his pants. His face is terrifyingly pale. The bullet must have hit his femoral artery.

Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

"Like hell," you snap at him, your pervious fear suddenly boiling into the purest form of anger you've ever felt. Angry for being in this situation in the first place. Angry that of all people, Cain is going to die.

It's terrifying how quickly the realization comes to you, how easily you accept it as the truth. There's already too much blood. Without a tourniquet, he'll bleed out in minutes and there's not quite time for that.

"Leaving him behind wasn't an option. It never even occurred to me that it was," you confess, as if saying it aloud will somehow explain away this title of heroism that everyone wants to pin on you. "Dead or alive, he was coming with me."

You shoulder your rifle and use both hands to grab onto the straps of his vest, hefting him backwards towards the truck.

He must clamp onto his bottom lip to stop the scream that threatens to escape because the noise that comes from his mouth is garbled.

You drag Cain about ten feet before you realize how just heavy he is. There's sweat leaking into your eyes and all you can see is the bloody lake that's left behind as you drag him through the dust. Cain's gone quiet, his head lulled to the side, eyes almost shut.

"C'mon, Cain. We're almost there."

His boot snags on a rock, and when you tug him free, he doesn't utter a word.

Something inside of you knows he's gone, was gone long before you started dragging him. You're still ten yards from the SUV.

POP. POP. POP.

You pause, your eyes fixed ahead of you. "Have you ever been shot before?"

Beside you, Jake shakes his head.

"It feels like someone has shot a bowling ball into your chest. Knocks the breath right out of you."

Pain explodes straight through your ribcage. Your vision clouds and you're vaguely aware of your knees buckling beneath you.

When you come to, all of the wind has been knocked out of you from hitting the ground so hard and your immediate reflex is to suck in a reviving breath. Instead all that comes out is a gurgle, the tell tale sign that your chest cavity is filling with blood.

You swallow, looking off at the dark shoreline of the beach, watching as the waves crash against the sand. "I knew that I wasn't dead yet—I did— I just—" Your throat constricts and when you speak again your voice is quieter. "He was already gone so maybe a part of me had already gone with him."

Jake nods slowly, as if putting together the pieces that you're laying down bit by bit. Somehow his green eyes have remained soft this entire time and maybe that's where you find the courage to continue.

Lifting your head, you crane your neck to see the damage, but the thick layer of kevlar strapped to your chest obstructs your view of the lower half of your body. Grunting in frustration, you reach blindly in the direction that the pain is radiating from. Numbly, your fingers find the gushing hole in your side. The bullet had buried itself in the exposed inch of your stomach between your belt and your vest.

There mustn't be an exit wound because there isn't a ton of blood surrounding you. If the wet cough you emit is anything to go by, it's probably pooling in your abdominal cavity instead.

You're going to die.

"I don't know how long I laid there," you admit. "I knew that the clock was ticking, had been since the moment I hit the ground. It was only a matter of time before I blacked out or bled out... I guess I was just waiting to see which one came first."

The scattered rounds hitting the ground around you become muffled background noise as the lull of unconsciousness begins to sweep over you, dulling the world as you know it. Through the haze of your fading senses, your eyes fall on Cain's motionless figure a few feet beside you.

He's lying face up, his desert tan uniform seeped a muddy crimson. You'd known he was dead a while ago. Still, you carried him. He'd have done the same for you. He was your brother, dead or alive.

Blood bubbles from your nose as you struggle to keep yourself breathing. The fact that you have to remind yourself to do that isn't a promising sign. Your body is shutting down, doing anything it can to keep your heart pumping, even if it means shutting down everything else.

Somewhere through the dullness, you hear Cain's voice. MOVE, (L/N).

You close your eyes, trying to picture his face from what had been just a few minutes ago. You remember the urgency in his blue eyes, the intensity of his fear overridden by adrenaline. How had that been only moments ago?

MOVE, (L/N).

"I—I heard his voice," you state, your tone not open for discussion. "Not the gun fire, not God, not anyone else's. I heard his voice."

So many people had tried to convince you otherwise, tried to tell you that it was because of the shock and your brain was shutting down, that you were hearing things. But you know what you heard.

"He saved my life, Jake."

You can see the gears turning in his head, the question carefully forming on his lips. "Were you two— I mean was he—"

It's the first time you have to suck back tears, your chest rattling with a longing emptiness as you fight the urge to cry. Memories of his wild blue eyes and wide smile that could only ever mean he was misbehaving flash through your mind.

You met Sergeant Anthony Cain not long after you commissioned as a Lieutenant. You were still a green officer when you were charged with your first platoon and given orders to deploy out East. You were scared as hell and Cain was your saving grace. He came in as if he'd always known you needed him and the rest was history.

There was never any question about intentions or commitment to each other. Cain was as honest as they came and you left it at that. You never imagined that's where your story would begin and end.

"I don't know, Jake. We didn't get that far."

Forcing your eyes open, you access the area around you. The sound of enemy fire has slowed but that doesn't mean movement won't trigger a return of bullets your way. Still, you know they'll be looking for survivors once the dust settles, and you don't want to be around when they do.

The humvee is only a little over ten yards away. You might would say it was crawling distance if it weren't for the fact that you were actively bleeding out. Even so, you don't really have any other option.

You take as deep of a breath as you can, your chest rasping as you do so, before lifting your right leg and using the weight of it to swing yourself over onto your stomach. Immediately, searing hot pain radiates through your chest and legs. You cry out, curling in on yourself, writhing on the ground like a wounded animal.

Sputtering, trying to breathe through the pain long enough so that you can move, you feel hot tears track down your face. They're tears of insurmountable pain and hopeless desperation.

"All I kept thinking was 'how does anyone survive this?' It was unimaginable, the pain. Looking back now, I don't know how I did it. I don't think I could do it again if I had to," you admit.

Softly, as not to scare you, you feel the gentle weight of Jake's palm on your knee. "You won't have to," he promises. "But you did it. You survived."

You stare down at his hand on your knee.

With a trembling, blood stained hand, you reach out in front of you and dig your fingers into the ground. Heaving, you draw yourself forward, your legs dragging limply through the dust. It takes an unimaginable amount of strength to pull yourself even six inches.

Sniffling back tears and out of breath, you curl your fingers into the ground and drag yourself forward again. This time, you probably only move half as far. You have to fight the urge to just lay your cheek against the ground and cry.

You do this again and again, keeping one hand pressed into the gushing wound at your side while the other drags you forward. Your lower half has become increasingly heavier with each passing minute, your legs nothing but dead weight to pull along. You don't think you could move them if you tried.

It takes you forty minutes to drag yourself to the humvee. By the time you get yourself fully under the abandoned vehicle, your fingers are torn and bleeding, the tips ripped open and embedded with bits of gravel.

Your muscles collapse the very second you give them the chance. Your forehead drops down to rest against the ground, and you finally have a moment to shudder out a sob. Your throat is dry and cracked, and dust coats the inside of your mouth. You're dimly aware that your breaths are dangerously shallow. You just know that you're miserably nauseous and each passing moment is more unbearable than the next.

You turn your own palm over, staring at the scars of your ruined finger tips, scars that tell a story of how you survived. They're ugly, and you wish you didn't have to look at the all of the time. At least your torso is mostly hidden. You've moved to a beach town and will never be able to put on a swimsuit.

Jake’s eyes follow yours and after a moment he flips his palm over, his fingers spread and inviting. His hands are large and calloused from years of flying. There are fingernail divots in his palm.

Almost shyly, his green eyes meet yours. You see a bit of that sadness you saw earlier. “I know it’s not my job to be your shrink or whatever,” he adds with a laugh and you can’t help but laugh with him. “But you’re not alone. We’re all a bit fucked up if you haven’t noticed.” He shrugs. “It comes with the job.”

You can’t help yourself. You trace a finger over the scarred palm of his hand. “My dad would disagree.”

Jake is fighting the urge to close his palm around yours, not wanting to overstep, and so he’s pleased when you intertwine your fingers with his.

“Family dinner must be interesting.”

Jake came from a military family himself and so he knows how deep the ties run. His old man was a sailor and so he knew better than to come home sporting anything other than his dress whites.

You laugh out loud because he’s not wrong at all. Jake squeezes your fingers in response. His hand feels good in yours. Safe and heavy in the way a padlock feels. Like he’s not going anywhere.

“It’s not all ‘Go Army, Beat Navy’ believe it or not. Don’t get me wrong, I was raised a Navy brat and I have a hell of a lot of respect for my old man, but at the end of the day, I had to choose myself. I couldn’t do that with him watching over my shoulder. The Army’s been both the greatest and the worst thing that could have happened to me,” you confess.

Jake hums, dare you say almost disbelievingly.

“What?”

“A few weeks here and you’ll change your mind. No one does it like the Navy does.”

It’s your turn to make a noise of disbelief.

“I guess you’ll just have to impress me, Flyboy.”

Jake squeezes your hand again. “Oh I plan to.”

[warnersister]

Personal Space (two Bradshaws like it now)

Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: A sequel in which you love your personal space. Unfortunately, Bradley also loves your personal space. Even more so now you’ve had a baby, apparently.

Can be read as a part 2, but doesn’t have to be. Read Personal Space here

You really didn’t know when it all happened, when you and Bradley became a thing. At first he was just an annoying crew member you couldn’t shake off your tail. Then he was your wingman. Then you got accidentally placed into marriage accommodation and the two of you played it off so you could get better housing. Then you actually bought a house. And then somewhere along the way you got married.

“Where shall we have the wedding?” Bradley asked and you raised a brow “register office” you shrug “what you don’t want a wedding?” He asks, hand on his chest as he feigns offence. “You do?” You ask and he nods vigorously. You huff. “Fine” “so shall we do it on the beach?” He asks “okay” you just go along with it, hardly even entertaining the idea at all.

“So? What do you think?” Nat asks as she makes you pivot in a white gown “I think I look like a roll of toilet paper” you said, crossing your arms “maybe it’s just not the dress for you?” She reasons and you shake your head “just not really into the whole idea of this wedding. I kinda thought we’d just sign papers and get on with it” you said “well you picked Bradshaw, he’s a drama queen at the best of times” she says and you him in agreement; your consultant leading you back to the fitting rooms “let’s try another”.

You’d left with a sleeved dress; hating the idea of having a low cut dress, and begging Nat to just let you leave. Sure, you loved the dress - but you loved the idea of getting out of that suffocating shop more.

“Hey honey” Bradley had said, hearing you walk into the house and set your keys on the kitchen counter. “Hi” you reply shortly, moving to fill your cup with water from the sink. “How was your day?” He asked, moving to rest his head on your shoulder and holding you from behind. “Good. Bought a wedding dress” you say simply “you did what?!”

Then on your wedding day, you’d stared at yourself in the mirror far too long. “You look gorgeous” Penny whispers, squeezing your shoulders comfortingly “I look like a fucking pin up doll” you huff, not necessarily believing yourself - just not used to being such a central perspective of attention. “Wow” your dad says, walking into the room “you look gorgeous” he whispers “is there an echo in here?” You mumble, but smile at him “thank you” you say, wiping the tears from under his eyes. “C’mon, Bradley’s nearly about to come get you himself”

You showed up to the beach-front wedding right on time, completely dead against the idea of being in any way, shape, or form late. Your father gave you away, Bradley in floods of tears at the end of the isle by the time you’d gotten there. “You look incredible” he whispers, lips quivering as he stares at you “shut up you’re going to make me cry.” You grumble, but smile. “It’s okay to cry.” He says, as the ceremony begins. “You may now kiss your bride” and Bradley dipped you and kissed you sweetly, drowning out the cheers of those around you. “I love you, Bradshaw.” You say, smally, “I love you more, sweetheart” he says and kisses your forehead “you’re crying” he points out “shut up”

And then you looked at the two lines on the pregnancy test two years later. You hummed “okay” and looked at yourself in the mirror, knowing nothing else other than the fact that you had to tell Bradley right that second. You marched downstairs, where he was sat playing with some keys on the piano you’d bought him last Christmas, stopping next to him. “Hey baby, y’alright?” He asked, and you just held out the stick to him. “What’s this?” He asks, taking it from you and looking over it once. “You serious?” He asked, looking at you; smile growing from ear to ear “you’re pregnant?” He almost whispers “unless the other four lied.” you say and he jumps up and pulls you into his arms, kissing all over your face until you shouted at him to stop.

He knelt down and looked at your stomach, kissing it gently then moving to put his ear against it “uh huh” he hummed “Bradley what are you-” “shush I’m talking to em” he says and you stand, unimpressed, but let him nonetheless. “Oh yeah baby, I’m excited to meet you too” he coos “yeah, yeah, I’m your dad” and you audibly giggle. He looks up at you, eyes wide “you done?” You ask and he nods “yeah little one was done talking” he smiles, and hugs you close again. “I need to get the baby clothes out of the attic” he mumbles, kissing your temple “the what?” You ask “I bought them when we started renting the house!” He says, dragging you excitedly up the stairs “but we own the house, Brad” you him “no, no, the one we had during the mission!” He says and you gasp internally, realising how long the two of you had been together without even noticing it.

“Hey dad” you say, as you and Bradley head into the hangar he and you owned “hey honey, hey Brad” your dad greets, wiping the oil from his hands to come over and talk to the two of you. He kissed your forehead and hugged you, then your husband before walking back over to the aircraft he was working on. “Thought you needed a new picture for your pinboard” you hum “oh? I just added the wedding photo!” He says, excitedly, showing you the filled gap. “Okay, guess you don’t want the sonogram of your grandchild.” You say, turning to head out before Bradley hurriedly grabbed you and turned you back into the situation, pulling the strip of photos from his breast pocket. Your dad stood with his jaw wide open “you’re-” he breathes “you’re really pregnant?” He asks as his eyes well with tears “well I wouldn’t lie-” you say but he just pulls you into a big bear hug, pinning Baby Bradshaw’s picture onto his board.

You head to go look at the part of the engine your dad couldn’t quite fix while Bradley held back with Maverick. He turns to him and shakes his hand “your dad would’ve been so proud.” He says, smiling at Bradley “I know you are.” Rooster smiles, wordlessly being pulled into a hug with his father-in-law.

Then one evening you were sat up in bed, Bradley sound asleep beside you as you look down at the barely visible bump. Bradley had sort of a sixth sense, somehow knowing you weren’t asleep beside him. “Hey, baby what’s up?” He croaks, immediately moving to sit up with you when he sees his senses were correct. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do, Bradley.” You say, staring ahead at the wall “what do you mean?” He asks, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “I mean I’m a fighter pilot, I was raised by a single father, I never had that maternal instinct, what am I doing?” You whisper, and when Bradley managed to finally pull your face towards him you were crying “oh sweetheart” he hums, pulling you into him gently “you’re gonna be the best momma ever, and the fact that you worry proves that. I love you, okay?” He comforts “I know. I love you too.”

You were stubborn the whole pregnancy. You thought it was ridiculous that people just stopped when they were pregnant, and Bradley was trailing you trying anything to get you to just relax. “Hen, please!” He begs as you head out for your morning run “I’m three months pregnant, Bradley. I’m not incompetent.” You snap, as he begrudgingly pulls on his running shoes and follows you out the door. He pulled you back anytime you went quicker than a 10 minute mile “Bradley, if you slow me down one more time I’m going to pull your arm out of your socket” you snap and he holds his hands up “message received.”

Then one day, at around the sixth month mark you walked into the house and slammed the door so hard it rattled. “What’s up?” Bradley asked, as you practically threw your stuff on the floor. “They’re putting me on the desk.” You grumble, anger evident in your eyes while his soften “oh baby we knew that was gonna happen” he soothes, rubbing your arm reassuringly “no! No we didn’t! I was perfectly fine hiding the bump, but no!” You huff “I’m Bradley Bradshaw and all of California has to know my wife’s pregnant!” You imitate him but he just smirks “oh I’m so sorry that everyone needs to know you’re taken and carrying my baby” he says, smugly. “Don’t you smile at me Bradley-” you wag an accusatory finger at him, but he heaves you over his shoulder, and towards the stairs “c’mon, let’s help you blow off some steam” he reasons “y’know it’s possible to get pregnant while pregnant, right?” You ask and he cheers “woohoo! Two for one deal, sounds great!” He says and you can’t help but smile.

Then came your maternity leave, Bradley picked you up in his bronco. You were quick to head outside, and he kinda hated how well you hid the bump. “I’m done.” You huff, settling into the seat beside him “if that bitch from accounting asks me one more time if I want her herbal teas I’m going to knock her teeth out” you complain and Bradley chuckles “well, just me, you and Baby Bradshaw now” he says and you hum in agreement.

But when you approached your street, you rolled straight past your house and straight to the Hard Deck ‘congratulations on your baby’ banners plastered all over “welcome to our baby shower!” Bradley grins as you pull up “is this really necessary? They aren’t even here yet.” You tell him and he shrugs “thought it might take your mind off maternity leave” you smile at him “thanks, Brad”

And at one point in the evening, you sat Natasha and Bob down separately. “Hey Phoenix, can we borrow you?” Brad asked, pulling her away from her conversation “yeah of course guys!” You took a seat at a table and Bradley forced you to elevate your feet against your will. “What’s up?” She asks “how’d you like to be godmother to little Bradshaw?” Her eyes lit up when Bradley asked and she leant over the table to hug the two of you “oh I’d love too!” She announces, excitedly.

Then you head over to Bob, but Phoenix holds Rooster back “they have a special connection, let her do this”. You sit on the stool next to Bob and he offers you some peanuts which you refuse, and you stay sat in silence for a minute. “Bob can I ask you something?” You ask, as he pulls your calves up to rest in his lap “of course, hen” he says, brushing some crumbs off his top “what’s up?” “Well, the job we’re in isn’t an old job” you say and he laughs and agrees “it’s also dangerous” you say, and again - he nods. “So if anything happens to me and Brad, can you be there for little Bradshaw?” His eyes widen and start to swell with tears “will you be our godfather?” You ask and he nods, moving to miss your cheek “of course I will, hen. I’d be honoured.”

Bradley and you had started putting together your hospital bag at the 8 month mark. You were both premature so had a bit of superstition, especially with only being a few weeks off of the 40 mark. You’d placed the bag by the front door, along with a baby carrier in the middle seat of his Bronco.

It was week 38 when you were both putting together the crib beside your bed, two spare bedrooms and still you only wanted your baby beside you. “Okay all done, baby” your husband said “okay. My water broke three minutes ago” you say as calmly as he had, he nods, then whips his head back round “your water broke?” He asks and looks down, and indeed, your water had broken “oh my god your water broke?!” He announced, picking you up bridal style and carrying you out to the bronco, picking the hospital bag up on the way. “Ready to have a baby?” He asks, giddily. “Am I supposed to be?” You ask and he shakes his head with a smile “no”

You were dead silent during birth and it scared the shit out of Bradley. “Do you want an epidural, honey? They’ve offered-” “no.” “Can I get you more ice?” “No.” And he tried everything, even when it was time to push. You held his hand and your mouth was zipped shut. “Is she supposed to be this quiet?” He asked the doctor who just looked at him nonchalantly “it’s normal, all mothers react differently to birth” he said. “I’m a fighter pilot Bradley. I’ve had worse.” You grit. “Breathe baby” he tells you “I think you need to.” You say “stop being dramatic” you say as you push again “honey-” “either shut up or get out.” You tell him and he glues his mouth shut, at least until the baby comes.

Bradley cuts the chord and they hand you your baby, and your eyes widen as you stare at the baby on your chest “welcome to the world Nick Bradshaw” you coo at the baby and Bradley raised his brows “Nick?” He asks, voice cracking “what? Got a problem with that? You and your stupid dick” you grumble and Bradley laughs and shakes his head, kissing your forehead.

“Hey mom, shall we take baby so you can get some rest?” The nurse asked, leaning to take Nick from your arms “excuse me?” You asked, pulling your baby closer. “So you can sleep?” She suggests “I’ve carried him for nine months and now he’s here you’re taking him away?” You ask “well, some mothers like to sleep” “I can sleep when I’m dead.” You deadpan, and she realised that Nick wouldn’t have been pried from your hands even if you were dead, so she left you all alone.

“Taking you away from mommy? Who does she think she is?” You whisper to baby Nick. “Welcome back to the world, Bradshaw.” You say and Bradley can only smile and hold the two of you close.

You’re going to be just fine in this mommy role.

——————————

Part 2-ish? I know it was really well liked and I enjoyed writing it so hope you enjoy this one too!

-> @rosiahills22 here’s another one!

[thegigilwriter]

Masterlist: “Danger & Star, Rooster & Angel” — Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Female Mitchell OC

Summary: 26-year-old Lucy Asa Mitchell did not know what was in store for her when she first bumped into Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw. After an instant mutual connection followed by a sweet whirlwind romance that swept both their feet, Lucy found herself being immersed deeper into Bradley’s world of the Navy, F-14s, and deployments. What she didn’t expect was finding was the answer to an elusive part of her past — the identity of her long-lost father.

Keywords/Warnings: Romance, definitely NOT slow burn, both smut and implied smut (if you’re not 18, go away), Drama, descriptive writing (more show than tell), some religious themes but not dominating (OC is Catholic), mention of hospitalization, imminent death, and missing loved one, possible inaccuracies about deployments and marine biologists.

Chapter Index

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 9.5 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 ...

Disclaimer: “Danger & Star, Rooster & Hope” is a work of fiction created by @thegigilwriter and is not endorsed by the original creators, producers, or any affiliated parties of TopGun and TopGun: Maverick. All characters, settings, and events portrayed in this fanfiction are purely fictional and do not reflect the views or intentions of the original creators. Any similarities to real persons, living or dead, or actual events are purely coincidental. The author acknowledges the original creators' ownership of the intellectual property and intends no infringement upon their rights. This fanfiction is created for entertainment purposes only.

I DO NOT permit my work to be reposted or copied or referred to without proper citation on Tumblr or on any other platform. As a creator and writer, I believe in the integrity and respect of someone’s work and you should too. Remember, if you don’t like what you read then don’t read it. There is a difference between being critical and being disrespectful — I believe as human beings we can articulate our opinions in an appropriate manner. Thank you.

[senawashere]

We're on this together...(Chapter V):

Bradley Bradshaw x Fem!Wife!Reader

Summary: Wind of Change by Scorpions

A/n: Please fasten your seatbelts cause none of yall are ready for this!!

Warnings: MAJOR SMUT (MDI!!) ,Infertility,mentions of miscarrige,mentions of hospital,mentions of getting pregnant,mentiones of ivf.Use of alcohol,arguing,use of bad languange. Mostly angst.

June 4, 2022.

Now, as Bradley drives, he thinks maybe you both need something else, the purring ball of fur in his lap being proof of that.

Excited, he taps his fingers on the steering wheel of his Bronco and hums a song from an 80's rock album, too impatient to park his car in his driveway, as he drives down the street to park in front of his door.

"Okay, man. We're here." He whispers to the barking little brown dog as he leaves his new comfort zone.

Bradley opens the door to his house, holding the puppy, who clings to his black shirt, in utter terror. He can hear Taylor Swift on the speakers, and it makes him smile that you are well enough to get back to your routine.

He walks into the living room, barefoot, and sees you in front of the TV, watching the Reputation Stadium Tour documentary as if it's the first time you're seeing it, and he can't help but feel like everything in him is screaming for this woman.

"Don't blame! Love made me crazy!" You sing the song, your whole body mimicking the choreography until you see him out of the corner of your eye. "Oh, my darling husband...!"

You were in the middle of standing up when you froze at the sight of the puppu, and your eyes and mouth widened as Bradley suppressed his laughter and stayed that way for at least five seconds.

You don't let out a small yelp before the puppy barks. "Did you get us a dog?" You ask, approaching them.

"Yes." He replies with a smile. "Do you want to hold it?"

You look up to meet his eyes and nods slowly, tucking the little animal into your chest, which instantly starts to purr, melting him with your love. This is the first time the two of you have shared a pet.

"He's so cute." You say, kissing his little head. "God, I love him already."

Bradley laughs and wraps his arms around your hips, pulling you closer and resting his cheek on your head, looking at the puppy as he shifts his gaze between his new parents. He already loves you too.

You turn your head to look into his eyes and smile shyly. "Thanks, I love you."

"I love you too." He answers without hesitation, kissing you softly before pulling away. “But we really need to think of a name.”

“Maybe later?” you kneel down, placing the dog on the floor and your gaze drifts to the coffee table in front of the couch.

“The tests came, I didn’t want to open them without you.”

The smile on his face fell, replaced by a nervous grimace, and he nodded quickly, walking with puppy and sitting down with the new family member who had made room for him on the backrest.

He holds one hand on his shaking knee as you open the envelope, holding two letters, one from the doctor and the other with the results.

He looks into your eyes and says;

“No matter what, we’ll be fine and i love you,always will.”

“We’ll be fine.” You repeat, and you look down at the papers to start reading.

“Blood tests, sperm tests, everything – everything’s fine…” You mumble, reading them a few times to make sure you weren’t mistaken. “Everything’s fine.”

“Read the other letter.” Bradley says impatiently, and you drop the piece of paper in your hand to start reading the other one.

“There, everything’s fine! I’m sure it’s all nerves and stress, calm down guys, I know you can do it, but you should always put your health first. Best regards, Dr.Evans .”

Both of is silent, the only thing that can be heard is the purring of the unnamed dog, Bradley is also shaken by the news, excited, and you keep your eyes on the TV, slowly opening his mouth to say it.

“Okay, fuck it.”

You both laugh, then you laugh out loud and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer, making the dog yelp at the sudden movement.

He kisses all over your face, shaking you from side to side as you try to escape, laughing.

“Stop, Roo!” You scream, stopping to look into his eyes.

His dimples, the big, tight-lipped grin that breaks out on his face when he sees you, his hair messy, his face clean, and his mustache are looking better than it should be.

God, now that he knows it’s okay, there’s nothing he wants more than to put a baby in your womb.

“Brad?” You ask, reaching out to brush the sandy brown hair that has fallen across his forehead.

“I love you so much.” He whispers, pressing kisses to your neck. “You look so beautiful right now.”

“Did the good news turn you on?” Your question makes him laugh and he picks you up in his arms and starts walking towards the stairs.

“But we have to find a name for the puppy!” You exclaim, wrapping your arms around your man’s neck.

“The puppy can wait.” He replies, leading you up the stairs to the shared bedroom and sitting you on the bed. “We’re going to have a baby right away.”

“Oh, really?” You ask, pressing your palms against the mattress and looking down at him. “So how do you know it’ll work this time?”

“I don’t know, but at least we’ll have fun trying.”

He places one hand on your chin, leaning down and guiding your head up so he can kiss you. Slowly, he tastes your lips, making you moan, and you thrust your tongue into his mouth and brush it against his.

You love when Bradley acts like this, he’s so dominant and his hand on your chin slides down to your neck, making you shiver.

You can feel your panties getting wetter and wetter and you shift uncomfortably, rubbing against the bed to create dome friction, making you moan.

Bradley grins and continues kissing you for a few more seconds, sort of just eating your mouth.

When you kiss like this, you always try to kiss long enough for it to be intimate, making him remember that that’s all you do because you don’t have the courage to do more.

He doesn't complain, because Bradley loves to put his bottom lip between his and you love when he sticks his tongue out for you to lick and suck. (I’m sorry it’s weird writing this.)

Like when he inches away to whisper. “Stick out your tongue for me.” And you do, sliding your pink tongue between his lips and looking into his eyes, the sight making him shiver. (It made me shiver too.)

“Fuck, I can’t believe I’m married to the most beautiful woman on the whole fucking planet.” He continues to lean into you, biting your bottom lip.

Bradley, who had his hand on your neck to steady you, stuck his tongue out and licked yours, laughing when he felt your saliva in his mouth. He took it between his lips and pulled it slightly to spit it into your mouth.

Damn, you hadn’t thought you’d been this turned on in a long time, and he looked into your eyes before swallowing, moaning at the eroticism of the action.

“Good girl, let me do whatever I want with your mouth, maybe I should fuck your throat to finish the show, mhm?” Bradley mumbled, tucking a few strands of hair behind your ear.

He grinned as you listened to him, spreading your legs and propping your feet up on the mattress, exposing yourself to him, despite the fact that your hole wasn’t tightening around anything.

“Are you going to fuck me or are you still going to think you’re Christian Grey?” He laughs too, and his insides heat up with joy knowing that you both can go from perverted to stupid in a second.

“Shut up.”

He grabs you by the waist to lift you up, throwing you towards the middle of the bed so he has space to position himself above you, and when he does, he starts kissing your collarbone, biting and sucking on your skin.

You sigh and feel his skin tingle with the kisses, tugging at the hair at the back of his neck, making him growl, and you slide your hands up to the hem of Bradley’s shirt, pulling it up.

He gets the message and pulls away to remove the shirt, revealing his bare sun tanned chest, and your hands are instantly all over him.

You admire him from below, gently dragging your nails down his chest, playing with his little dog chains, running your fingers down to his muscles and happy mark and those damn, hot laurels.

You couldn’t understand how you had the perfect man all by yourself, and you never would.

His eyes burned with the emotion that washed over you like a wave, the knowledge that he was as deeply and madly in love with you as you were, and you wouldn’t have gotten married without it.

Your gaze met his dark brown gaze as he slid his palms under the fabric of your shirt, reaching for your tits and cupping them with a familiarity that pulled you closer to him, lifting your hips to press against his bulge as he squeezed you by your titts.

“Are you ready,baby?” he asked, wrinkling his nose and taking a deep breath, a gesture that stuck with you after all these years.

You arched your back, causing Bradley’s hands to press into you even harder. “Just fuck me, please.” Your voice was shaky, and you could see the stupid, cocky grin forming on his face.

It’s been maybe ten minutes since they both moved the subject to the bedroom, but the wetness that has gathered in your panties is making you even more nervous, as is your clit that continues to throb at the sight of your half-naked hot husband. .

Bradley just stares at you with a serious look on his face, but there’s a spark of lust in his eyes, and he lifts his hands from where they were supposed to rest on your knees, bringing them up.

He leaves his left hand there, but the other goes straight to your panties, running his index finger up and down the fabric, making you close your eyes and take a nervous breath.

“You’re so wet, you’ve ruined your panties,” he says, smiling wryly. "You're so desperate for me to fuck you, aren't you?

The questions he shouted in his thick and husky voice only made you hornier, and you knew your wetness was probably on the sheets right now, but you couldn't care less.

"Yes, please." Your eyes were open now, and Bradley felt himself shifting in his pants when he saw the desperation and need in your eyes.

His arms pull you closer so you can kiss him, and you let him do whatever he wants, bite and suck and leave those sweet little kisses that make your eyes squeeze tightly because he's so crazy about you.

His girl. His wife. His soul. His everything.

Your hands are messing with Bradley’s hair even more, trying to get his pants off and pressing your body against his, both of you moaning as you both rub against the thin clothing, he is rushing to lick and mark your breasts, making sure to give you some extra kisses and bites on the heart tattoo from when both first got together.

“These breasts…” he says, sticking his tongue out to lick your nipple. “They’ll be filled with milk for my baby soon.”

Your mouth opens at the stimulation from Bradleys thrusts into your clothed hole, and a longing fills you as you remember the first time you did this. And now you were about to have a baby.

Or at least you were trying to.

He was licking your breasts and then blowing some air on them, making you shiver. You put your hands behind his ears, forcing him to look into your eyes, and in a voice choked with need;

“Roo, fuck me so we can have a baby.” you said.

Your cracked, trembling voice makes him search your face for any tears, but it’s the arousal that makes you so.

You need him and you can’t keep playing these games, not when you think you’re going to cum at any moment because of him and his entire being.

Bradley quickly throws off the rest of his clothes and you’re both naked, pressed together as he kisses the weak spot on your jaw that makes your eyes go black. One of his hands resists his weight so he doesn’t crush you, the other cups your breasts, moaning at the relaxing contact on the sensitive shaft.

His tip brushes against the warmth of your folds and you moan in unison, admiring him with narrowed eyes, your head tilted back, your hair disheveled, your eyes closed and your mouth open with a trickle of drool escaping the corner. From yout mouth.

For Bradley Rooster Bradshaw, seeing you fucked this hard was a work of art, if only for his eyes.

He presses the dripping tip against your clit, making himself make a noise in the back of his throat, and leaves kisses behind your ear, murmuring words of love as he slowly pushes inside.

You both remain still as your wetness greets him like it always does, he thinks he’s about to cum and you do, knowing that with just one lean and one thrust you’ll hit his soft spot.

You hug him back and let your head fall onto his shoulder.

“How come you’re still so tight every time,hmm baby?”

You laugh, tightening around him and he braces himself for the first thrust, grunting when he looks down and sees his member emerge, covered in all your wetness.

“Fuck, Roo.” Your breaths match his deep thrusts and you lift your hips halfway to meet his.

His pelvic bone hits your clit perfectly, making Bradley moan and lose himself as his thrusts become more erratic, his chest pushing away from yours so that he grabs your hips with both hands, holding you in place.

You don’t know what to do with his hands, he squeezes the skin of your stomach as you continue to moan from the way his tip brushes that weak spot, you don’t know how he manages to fuck you properly every time, but he does, he fucks you.

He watches you from above as his hips continue to thrust wildly, but your mind is filled with love, your eyes closed, your hair at the pillow and your body at his mercy, he was your dream, his only dream.

“Fuck, look at you.” He’s out of breath, unable to take his eyes off you. “I can’t wait to fill you up, and when I’m done, I’m going to do it over and over again until the house is full of our babies.”

“Brad.” You moan, your mind clouded by the image, and you feel your orgasm coming closer.

“Yes, you want it, don’t you?” He asks, licking his thumb between your bodies and pressing it against your clit, increasing the volume of your moans.

“Walking around full of babies. Full of my seed,huh baby?”

You can’t believe your ears, as Bradley hasn’t heard it as loud as he does now, and you feel your climax through your fingertips with every thrust, word, and caress your husband gives you.

You look at each other, and your bright gaze contrasts with his dark one.

“Please, make it drip from me.” You babble, leaning your weight on one arm, pressing your foreheads together so you can get closer to him. “I want to make you a daddy.”

Bradley feels himself about to cum at your words, and despite the burning in his muscles, he continues.

"Is that so? and you're gonna be a mother, the best, the hottest, fuck, my love-"

You place your hand on the back of his neck and kiss him, messy from his movements and the desire for release you both have.

You pull away to murmur against his lips.

"I love you no matter what."

He cums inside you in long white ribbons that paint your walls, and the stimulation in your clit makes you cry out his name, tensing all your muscles, squeezing your eyes shut and opening your mouth in a silent scream.

“I love you, I love you, I love you.” Bradley murmurs, leaving kisses across your open mouth, your cheeks, and all over your face.

You both collapse onto the bed and stay silent for a few minutes, catching your breath and you snuggle under the covers, knowing that you won’t be making the bed later, thanks to him not having the strength to make the bed.

Bradley slides his now soft member out of you, you are hissing at the sensation and seeing how his cum wants to drip from your hole, so he forces it back with three fingers, feeling himself shift and almost harden again. He pulls them out, quickly wiping them off with his mouth, so he can pick up his shirt from the floor and carefully clean his wife.

You wait for him to take the shirt between your legs and throw it away before looking into his eyes, and you grab his hands, making him smile and roll his eyes, you grab his arms and pull him down onto your chest.

"We're trying to have a baby here while you're still acting like a baby." You joke, but he pinches your nipple. "Ouch!"

"You think it worked?" Your hopeful voice makes him smile, and you both look at each other, satisfied with what happened.

"Of course." He replies, playing with your hair, a little sweaty from the exercise. "The next test will be positive, I believe."

THEY GOT A PUPPY🥹🥹 AND maybe more😏😏

I'm tagging people who might be interested:@ohtobeleah @sebsxphia @callsign-fox @greenorangevioletgrass @roosterforme @teacupsandtopgun @floydsglasses @lyn-js @its-dee-lovely @its-the-pilot @friedchips94 @hardballoonlove @topguncortez @bradshawsbaddie @shanimallina87 @djs8891 @themusingofagothicsoul @promisingyounglady @the-romanian-is-bae @mamachasesmayhem @jessicab1991 @iefitzgerald-blog @charcole-grey @waterriseslew @desert-fern @eternalsams @callsigns-haze @promisingyounglady @els-marvelvsp @cevansbaby-dove if you are not comfortable please tell me!!

[missmarveledsblog]

FLUMPY PART 6 ( JAKE SERESIN X READER)

SUMMARY : after an intervention and confrontation of sort y/n realises some thing as jake is feeling the exact same way as he gives his dad a tour of the base 

warning: fluffy and goofy humour , wine throwing fun .  FINALLY IS ALL I CAN SAY FOR THESE TWO . 

True to his word pete ( maverick) mitchell stood at the entrance of base as jake and his father john walked up .

" i heard we got a tour today" he smiled at the men.

" dad this is captain pete maverick mitchell , mav this is my father captain john seresin sir" jake smiled .

" honor to meet you captain mitchell although just john i retired a couple of years ago" john excitedly shook his hand .

" well captain today i promised my daughter i would take the best care of you captain and well you don't break a pinky promise with y/n" pete chuckled.

" she really take those thing seriously" jake shook his head.

" she's a lovely girl , smart too really credit to you captain mitchell" .

" please call me mav or pete shall we begin" he asked as the two walked in . true to his promise mav gave a Grade A tour even expressed how proud he was of jake and how far he had come which made the blonde stand taller . the dagger squad bar phoenix also showed their faces each had something nice to say about jake to his father and admiral simpson even made an appearance . once the tour was half done the guys went to the canteen all sharing their favourite stories from duty to training academy when the conversation shift instantly to what they really wanted to talk about.

" and how long has my son been a pining idiot for y/n" john asked looking around faces telling enough.

" see he's only here and he sees it" rooster snorted.

" been hearing it all time too" john chuckled.

" can we not talk about this" jake rolled his eyes.

" your dad has a point as much as i hate the thought of my little girl dating ,you are dragging this out" pete took a bite of his sandwich.

" that is his weird way of telling you that you have his blessing so jesus man so grow a pair before we lose our goddamn minds" .

" what the rooster means to say is well we just want you guys happy and also we are losing our minds waiting" .

" son a girl like that does not come around so often and one who has jake seresin calming down " he turned to see admiral simpson.

" see even the boss man sees it man you need to what they say seize the day well in this instance seize the pretty girl" rooster pointed his fork .

" ok ok i hear y'all but what if it ends badly and crash and burn plus deployment and everything that come with all this" he asked.

" stop look for reasons not too and start looking at what's in front of you, now john would you like to see the hanger were we keep the jets?" pete asked.

" of course and son don't lose a good thing when it comes you way" his father patted his back.

" what do you want kyle" she rolled her eyes.

" i heard what happened i meant to visit but i was sure it would only make things worse but look i never meant for you to get hurt or hurt yourself" he whispered the last part .

" you think i did this to myself because you and your buddy's locker room chat oh my god ego check i got hit by a road rage alcoholic" she stood thankful she didn't wobble .

" oh thank god i thought your father was going to have my head" he chuckled only to feel a liquid sting his eyes.

" listen here you one inch wonder your lucky i even gave you time of day no matter who my father is , i have more to offer then boost your ego or career and in fact i only asked your ass out because i wanted to get ja.. Someone out of my mind certainly wasn't what you had between your legs" she glared.

" jesus you sound as sappy as seresin except your more brutal than he was " he wiped the wine out of eyes .

" what" she asked slightly taken back.

" he said something same about beautiful force of nature and i'm lucky dude sounded like he was in love with you" he blinked although his eyes still stun.

" but that was before... oh my god i need a ct .. jake loves me" she gasped .

" oh my god finally you know for a genius you are very dumb" nat sighed with relief .

" oh my god i gotta .. come on ladies up now" she said . " waiter dude man here bill" she called grabbing hers and the others things.

" ok we good now" kyle asked smirk on his face to nat .

" ohhh this was a set up .... Yeah sorry about the one inch wonder ... beth come on" she rushed the ladies up.

" coming coming" the rushed out leaving the waiter a tip . " where we going" nat asked although she had a feeling.

" to do something very unprofessional of course" y/n rushed as much as the crutches would take her .

Jake couldn't get their word out of his head of course he was head over heal in love with y/n, it was hard not to more time he'd spent it was like he was falling even more. His dad was right of course a girl like her was rare , one that kept him on his toes in the best way , every little thing she did made him fall even her little old man habits he called them in honestly he thought it was most adorable thing . his mind completely void of anything but her like she was everything that kept him running and honestly he never wanted to lose that . the former man whore wanted one woman for rest of his days that his heart was beating and he was gonna seize the day or seize the pretty girl in words of rooster. Until he got down from his jet only so wrapped up in his thoughts it was like he could hear her .

" wait a minute" he said looking over to the door.

" come on nat" her voice called.

" i'm moving as fast as i can stop slapping my ass i'm not gonna go faster" .

" ok i got it from here" he looked over to see her getting off of phoenix back .

" what you too doing here" rooster asked.

" seizing the goddamn day or what ever you say" she huff not walking for her crutches as she moved eyes locked on jake who searched her face.

" ok this wasn't as romantic as i thought jake meet a girl half way" she panted.

" darling what are you doing here" he ran over .

" oh shit i was brave before keep that ... i may have only clued into something that was right in front of me this whole damn time to point i may need my head and eyes checked ... not the point but i was at lunch and they bullied me to admit my feeling for you which i mean are there... ok they didn't bully me ...then kyle showed up and i threw wine at him then he said something to make me realise and hope i'm not wrong in thinking you love me too right" she rambled . as he stood shocked but then the wide grin that came on his face .

" i swear to go if you make a lame joke right now i will hit you" she whispered only to yelp when he lifted her in his arms.

"I was just going to say that i was going to seize the pretty girl when i got home" he winked before crashing his lips on her as the rest of the dagger squad whistled and applauded.

" finally" rooster clapped harder.

" she moves fast even with that boot on" beth chuckled. The two pulled back eyes locked on each other like it was just them too in the room .

" who knew you'd be kissing flumpy huh" she wiggled her brows .

" i ain't gonna stop kissing flumpy" he chuckled kissing her again .

" except a work" a voice called as the turned to see admiral simpson standing.

" of course very professional plus i'm on leave sooo" she smirked.

" good for you seresin" he chuckled as he headed off.

" he's like a cat" she whispered as jake nodded in agreement .

" ok put my kid down" mav joked as penny slapped his chest telling him to leave them alone.

" oh beth great driving you hit that pedal like it was need for speed" she said as jakes eyes widened looking at his sweet little mother.

" glad to be of help" she laughed.

" this i gotta hear" rooster snorted.

" for old girl she can be fast" john smiled.

" to make my boy that happy i'd do it again, hurt her son and we're gonna have problems" she playfully glared.

" mama" he gasped yet amusement was laced in it .

you better get her home she moved a little too fast today" nat hinted although it wasn't fully a lie.

" on that note pops , mama , rest of y'all bye " he rushed out the hanger .

" shit their going to be gross now" rooster whined as her giggles echoed through the hall way.

Once they were in the drive way she could stop kissing the man although she wasn't alone in the feeling was like once he got a taste he was addicted .

"awh finally i thought i was gonna be on my deathbed before you two got together" they turned to see mrs wilson standing on her porch.

" keep sneaking on me like that and it may come soon"

" Jake" she slapped his head thankfully the older woman didn't hear his comment . " did everyone know but us?" .

" a blind man could see it honey" the elderly woman shook her head .

" well see you mrs wilson" jake called rushing into the house as door closed his lips where on hers once more as he brought her to the sofa .

" you were right i didn't say it back at the hanger but darling even my parents where sick of me talking about you" he smiled kissing her nose.

" all good things right?" she pecked his lips .

" you know the usual pain in my ass , funny , smart , kind , caring and drives me crazy beautiful that has me so in love with her" he said only for her to crash her lips to his more heatedly .

" slow down you animal your still recovering but once that booty is off i'll show you good time" he nipped her bottom lip .

" you did not just call me an animal while we making out" she snorted. " hey you need to learn to walk before you ride the bull" he winked lips locking with hers.

His parent gone home , home her new car sitting in the driveway as the two lay on the sofa . two weeks of having her the way he truly wanted seemed like a dream when he looked down as she slept on his chest well it was moment like this he'd come to love .

please tell me you two are dressed" rooster walked in covering his eyes .

" shup chicken she's asleep" he whispered.

" from a long day and not something else.. Right" he asked hopeful .

" yeah she had physio asswipe.. Maybe some other things too .. ouch" he chuckled causing her to stir .

you two are sickeningly cute" rooster grimaced .

" shh you'll wake her" jake glared.

" too late" she groaned lifting her head up rubbing sleep out of her eyes.

" you got some drool right there pretty girl" rooster teased.

" can't blame me" she flushed.

" hey" jake smiled as she leaned down kissing him.

" hey i'm still here" bradley coughed.

" thought you were staying in ruby's" she asked.

" i need shower and grab my overnight bag so can you control yourselves til i leave" he asked back .

" can you mr i can be your doctor baby" she smirked .

" you heard that" he gulped. "

oh i did doctor love" she fell back laughing .

" your evil pretty girl " he rushed off.

" he's right your terrible " jake kissed her head.

" terribly adorable" she patted his check as she got off the chair walking unaided of a crutch or person and boot free.

" sweetheart" he beamed probably making her stop realise was just happened.

" i walked on my own" she cheered loudly.

" you done it baby" he lift her spinning her in his arms.

" i like being your baby" she kissed him .

" well baby you are stuck with me" he winked .

" what's with the cheering" bradley ran back in .

" i walked by myself" she beamed.

" great now you can go" .

" work" , " rodeo" the said at same time.

" what he said... work" she played it cool.

" i think you broke him" rooster snorted at jakes reaction

. " that happens at the rodeo" she said easily.

" i'm moving out .. of the country you sicko" he walked off.

" rodeo huh?" jake purred holding her tighter in his arms as her leg rested around his waist.

" even have a hat cowboy" she kissed his cheek before getting down .

" where you think your going baby" he said watching her hips sway down the hall

" to get my hat" she called sending him after her in chase .

the Rodeo (18+)

taglist : @harrysgothicbitch @djs8891 @darksparklesficrecs @emma8895eb

[redhope446]

Anchored Desire- Two

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw

Synopsis: Things between you and Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw are heating up fast. His endless flirting and the tension between you both finally come to a head, and resisting him isn’t as easy as you thought.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, teasing, kissing, messy feelings.

~~~

The days felt longer at sea, the horizon stretching endlessly into shades of blue and grey. You stayed busy—interviewing pilots, jotting notes, and trying to capture the heart of life aboard the ship—but no matter how focused you tried to be, Bradley Bradshaw was always there. Whether it was a lingering glance in the mess hall or a teasing comment that left your cheeks burning, he was impossible to ignore.

It was late when you stepped out onto the deck, the ocean breeze tugging at your hair. The stars overhead were impossibly bright, scattered across the dark sky in patterns you couldn’t quite name. You rested your arms on the railing, letting the salty air fill your lungs as the steady sound of the waves eased some of the tension knotted in your chest.

“You’ve got to stop making this so easy for me,” came that familiar voice from behind.

You sighed, already bracing yourself, and turned to see Rooster leaning casually against the doorway. His flight suit was undone just enough to reveal the grey undershirt beneath, and the way his arms were crossed over his chest made it all too clear he’d caught you mid-thought.

“Making what easy?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Finding you,” he replied with a crooked grin, stepping closer. “It’s like you want me to follow you out here.”

“You’re insufferable,” you muttered, though you didn’t move as he stopped just a foot away.

“And yet, here you are,” he shot back, his tone light but his eyes sharp. He tilted his head, studying you the way he always did—like you were a puzzle he couldn’t wait to solve. “What’s on your mind?”

You turned back to the water, shrugging like it didn’t matter. “Nothing you need to worry about.”

“Too late for that,” he said softly, moving to stand beside you. His ardefencesd yours, just barely, but it was enough to make your heart skip. “Come on. Spill.”

You rolled your eyes but kept your gaze on the horizon. “Why do you care?”

“Because I do,” he answered like it was the simplest thing in the world.

The sincerity in his voice caught you off guard, and you hesitated. He had a way of cutting through your defenses, and tonight was no different.

“Fine,” you said finally. “This assignment is a lot. The pressure, the people, the… everything. It’s exhausting.”

Rooster nodded, his expression softer now. “I get that. Life out here can be… overwhelming.”

You glanced at him, surprised. “You don’t seem overwhelmed.”

“That’s because I’ve had years to get used to it,” he said with a small smile. “But it doesn’t mean I don’t feel it sometimes. Especially when you’re stuck in your head.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but he continued before you could.

“Look,” he said, turning to face you fully. “You don’t have to do this alone. I know you’re tough, but it’s okay to lean on someone now and then.”

The intensity in his gaze made it hard to breathe. “And let me guess,” you said, trying to break the tension, “that someone is you?”

“Obviously,” he said, flashing that signature grin.

You laughed despite yourself, shaking your head. “You don’t give up, do you?”

“Not when I see something worth fighting for,” he said simply, and the teasing edge in his voice was gone.

Your breath caught, and for a moment, neither of you moved. The ship rocked gently beneath you, but all you could feel was the warmth radiating from him, the way his eyes held yours like they were daring you to look away.

“You don’t play fair,” you said quietly, your voice barely audible over the waves.

“Never said I did,” he murmured, stepping closer. His hand brushed yours on the railing, his touch warm and steady. “Tell me to stop, and I will.”

But you didn’t tell him to stop.

Instead, you turned toward him, and before you could second-guess yourself, his hand slid to your waist, pulling you closer. His lips met yours in a kiss that was soft at first, testing, but when you leaned into him, it deepened. The world around you faded, the only thing grounding you was the feel of his hands, his warmth, and the unspoken promise between you.

When you finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and the faintest smile tugged at his lips. “You’re full of surprises,” he said, his voice low and full of admiration.

“So are you,” you replied, breathless.

For once, Bradley Bradshaw didn’t have a quick comeback. He just smiled, his hand lingering on your waist as the two of you stood there under the stars, the waves crashing softly below.

When you turned back to him, his hand was already on your waist, firm and steady like it had always belonged there. His eyes searched yours, dark and serious in a way that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Say the word,” he murmured, his voice low as if he didn’t trust himself to speak any louder.

You didn’t say anything. Instead, you closed the small gap between you, your lips crashing into his like a wave meeting the shore. There was no hesitation this time, no testing or holding back. Rooster’s hand tightened on your waist, the other slipping up to cradle your jaw, his fingers threading into your hair as he kissed you deeper.

He tasted faintly of salt and something warm and distinctly him, and it was intoxicating. Your hands gripped his flight suit, tugging him closer as if the space between you was unbearable. He groaned softly against your lips, the sound sending a thrill through you that made your knees weaken.

“You’re dangerous, you know that?” he said between kisses, his lips brushing yours as he spoke.

“Dangerous?” you managed, your voice breathless and barely steady.

“Yeah,” he murmured, his forehead resting against yours. “You’ve got me completely hooked.”

You didn’t know how to respond to that—not with words, anyway. So, you kissed him again, your hands sliding up to wrap around his neck. This time, he pressed you back against the railing, his body flush against yours as the tension between you ignited into something you couldn’t control.

His kisses grew hungrier, more insistent, and the world seemed to fall away entirely. The ship rocked gently beneath you, the ocean was vast and endless around you, but none of it mattered. All you could feel was him—the way his lips moved against yours, the way his hands held you like he couldn’t bear to let you go.

When you finally broke apart, both of you gasping for air, his eyes stayed locked on yours. His thumb brushed your cheek, his touch so gentle it was almost at odds with the intensity of the moment.

“You’re trouble,” he said softly, his lips curving into a smile that made your heart stutter.

“You started it,” you shot back, your voice shaky but full of affection.

“Yeah,” he admitted, leaning in to press another quick, lingering kiss to your lips. “And I’m not stopping anytime soon.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head as you let your hands trail down his chest. “You don’t know when to quit, do you?”

“Not when it comes to you,” he said, his voice dropping to a near-whisper.

His words settled over you, warm and heavy, and for once, you didn’t feel the need to push him away or deflect with sarcasm. Instead, you let yourself lean into him, your cheek brushing against his as you both stood there, tangled up in each other under the endless expanse of stars.

Whatever this was—whatever it was becoming—you didn’t want it to end. And from the way Rooster pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you like he meant to keep you there, you had a feeling he felt the same.

[newwritergirl]

Starting over | Part 12

Masterlist

This is the new part of my TopGun fic. You can once again skip this part, if you don't like steamy filthy smut. There's no important plot, so you can wait for the next chapter. No problem!

MINORS DNI!!! This is pure smut!

Summary: The three have a steamy time in the shower. No plot, just smut!

Trigger warnings: pure smut! 18+, minors DNI! piv (wrap it before you tap it! this is fiction), some dirty talk

Word count: 2.2k +

A/N: Please let me know if my choice of words is wrong or embarassing, English is not my first language and this is my second smut writing and I want to encrease my writing constantly. Thanks for all the support!

Strong arms are enveloping y/n from behind. In the past it would have made her flinch, a man hovering above her always meant incoming pain or at least a threat. But nowadays it makes her whole body fill with a warmth, lets her shiver, pure tender electricity is spreading through her body.

“What are you doing, cupcake?” Jake graces the shell of her ear as he lowers his head to softly kiss her neck. His plump lips on her delicate neck make moan and wiggle in his arms.

“Jakey, it’s my turn to cook dinner for us, so hop under the shower, you’re smelling like jet fuel and sweat.” Y/n turns around and looks up at the blonde aviator who is still in his flying suit. To see her boyfriends in their flying suits or in their uniforms is always a sight for sore eyes. She absolutely adores them in their work attire.

“We thought you could join us in the shower. Let’s order some food later…” Jake hoists her up as if she weights nothing and sits the squealing woman on the kitchen counter. He opens her legs as wide as he can with her still wearing her pencil skirt. With a firm grip he grabs her delicate hips and nuzzles his head in the crook of her neck, softly sucking on her sensitive spot above her collarbone.

“Rooster is already waiting in the shower to get it warm for our girl.” He tells her between kisses and soft love bites.

“Two naked aviators all wet and soapy? Show me the way Lieutenant Commander Seresin.”

Her answer makes him grin devilishly. “That’s the answer I needed to hear. But first let’s get rid of this skirt and blouse of yours. As much as I like to see you in this sexy pencil skirt and the blouse, we need you naked…”

---

The shower spray feels like a warm blanket on her skin. She can’t help but let out a small whimper as she feels strong hands massaging the flowery shampoo into her hair, short nails scraping over her head occasionally. She buries her head into the warm and wet chest of the brunette aviator in front of her when Jake starts to wash out the foam which surrounded her silky hair. To be in the shower with both her boyfriends feels so intimate, the vulnerability of being naked wet and huddled into the space of the shower isn’t as intimidate as she feared. She feels so safe with Jake and Bradley.

Y/n starts stroking Bradley’s abs up and down and places soft kisses on his muscular chest. His heartrate picks up as the touch of her small hands nearing his already hard member. Behind the smaller woman Jake completes his task to wash his girlfriend’s hair. His hand now wandering down her neck and further down to the swell of her breasts. When his strong hands stroke over her sensitive nipples she shudders and buries her head once more into Bradley’s chest.

“Are you cold, baby?” Jake whispers into her ear “Should we make the water warmer?”

She can’t form a coherent sentence right now, the feeling of both aviators touching her naked and wet body almost too much for her. She looks up at Bradley when she lets her hands wander further down to cup his big cock, giving him a stroke with her hands. To steady himself he reaches out and grabs Jake’s shoulders and hisses as y/n starts to fist him a bit tighter. The blonde aviator enjoys the play of his partners in front of him. He’s still intrigued with their whole situation. He and Rooster love the same girl, not only sharing a house but sharing a bed, sharing the same love for this gorgeous woman in front of him. And still he doesn’t feel a whiff of jealousy, not even now when both of them are making out heavily. Actually watching the two is making his heart swell even more, well not only his heart. He’s just as hard as Rooster, nearly painfully hard and heavily aroused watching the small woman stroking Rooster’s remarkable cock. The same cock he tasted days ago.

After giving y/n’s nipples one last pinch he lets his hands wander down further. Her body is so warm because of the hot water of the shower. He needs to feel her, wants to feel her clenching on his fingers, hear her whimper when he strokes her sensitive clit. Jake presses his chest flush to the woman’s back to get better access to her sweet folds.

“Can I make you feel good, sweet girl? Can I get you ready for Bradley? I think he wants to feel you today, your tightness…” She leans her head on the broad chest behind her and closes her eyes as she feels Jake’s fingers stroking over her aroused folds. Her heart nearly stops when she suddenly feels Bradley’s mouth sucking her right nipple, his mustache scraping over her breast sends electricity through her body.

“You’re already so wet, baby.” The blonde aviator whispers into the woman’s ear as he teases her wet entrance. Without warning he inserts two fingers into y/n’s tight pussy. Her knees buckle at the intense feeling. Fortunately his other arm has a strong hold on her upper body and prevents her from tumbling down. To steady herself y/n reaches out and grabs the bulging biceps of the man in front of her, her nails digging into his flesh. Bradley enjoys the view of Jake fingering their girlfriend. With her eyes still closed she clearly savors the feeling of the blonde aviator’s fingers inside her.

“Jaaake…” Y/n shouts, her voice echoing in the big master bathroom. Jake takes her cry of pleasure as a confirmation to go a bit faster, his pointer and middle finger stretching her tight entrance further his thumb slowly rubbing circles over her swollen clit.

“You want to feel Bradley’s cock inside of you, baby? Look at him, how he enjoys your sexy view. Open your eyes, baby. Let him see your beautiful eyes.”

Y/n opens her eyes to see the brunette aviator pumping his raging cock, looking directly into her eyes. He bends down and captures her upper lip, softly sucking and biting it before his tongue requests entrance. They kiss grows passionately as Jake’s fingers still plunging into her soft folds, hitting her G-Spot occasionally. He feels her tighten and clenching around his fingers but before she has the chance to come on his digits he stops his actions. She was so close but he stops, her eyes fly open, her ass bumping into his crotch out of frustration.

“Nah nah nah, baby. I want you to come on Rooster’s cock. You ready to feel him?” Jake teasingly says, clearly pleased with y/n’s desperate reaction.

“Please, Bradley. I need you…” She grabs his cock in a firm painful hold, showing him how badly she needs him right now.

“So needy our girl. Come on, princess. Let me feel you. Want to feel how wet you are for me.” Bradly cups her ass with his hands and gives her the go to jump up on him. Jake supports her from behind and helps the smaller woman to hop onto the taller aviator in front of her. She locks her legs around Rooster’s hips, feeling his hard cock poking her lower belly. When he’s sure that she’s not in danger to fall down, he releases one hand from under her bum and grabs his big cock and slowly rubs the head up and down y/n’s aroused sex. She starts to rock back and forth, desperate to feel his member inside of her.

“Easy girl. We don’t want you to get hurt.” Jake tries to calm her down when he tightens his grip on her hips to steady her a bit more, afraid she would fall down with her rocking.

Bradley teases her entrance with the swollen head of his member and turns them both around so that her back is now at one of the tiled shower walls. When the cold tiles touch her back she lets out a squeal which turns instantly into a long moan when Bradley finally sinks into her. He gives her some time to adjust to his size. Her head falls onto his shoulder her mouth agape when small whimpers leaving her wet lips.

Jake takes a step forward to be nearer to his both partners, his painfully hard cock in one of his hands.

“Bradley, more. Please more.” She instructs between moans and whimpers. She wants to feel him completely inside her, like she felt Jake days ago. Rooster tightens his grip on her hips once more as he lets himself sink deeper into the woman in front of him. His eyes squeeze shut unable to hold the whine that leaves his throat. Warm water runs down his muscular back but all he can feel is the sensation of y/n clenching around his member. She feels so warm and tight and her small moans are driving him wild. He starts to thrust in a slow and steady rhythm, feeling Jake beside him stroking his back. Y/n’s legs tighten around him as he finds the right angle to thrust into her.

“You’re so big. Oh my God, please Bradley right there.” Y/n sputters as the brunette aviator hits the sensitive spot inside her. The cold tiles on her back with the warm water coming out of the shower head and the strong thrusts from Bradley are creating a mixture of explosive feelings. Her body starts to shudder and she gently bites into Bradley’s shoulder.

Jake sneaks one hand between both his partners and starts to fondle with y/n’s breasts, pinching and rolling her nipples with his fingers. His other hand furiously fisting his cock.

“Fuck y/n. You’re taking me so good. Oh Jesus…” Bradley picks up the pace, the sight of the young woman so aroused and nearly able to speak and his partner beside him stroking his cock and playing with the young woman’s sensitive nipples makes him feral.

“You look so sexy, y/n. I want so see you come, I want to see both of you come. Come for me.” Jake moans as his hand release y/n’s nipples, just to wander further down to touch her sensitive clit.

Her moans growing louder and she tries to bounce faster on Bradley’s cock. Over and over he hits her sweet spot, chasing his own orgasm relentlessly, but restrains himself a bit more. He wants to come with her, feeling her clenching on his cock, milking him while she shatters from her orgasm.

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop Bradley.” Y/n shouts as she feels her own orgasm not too far away. Her back arches away from the cold tiles when she starts to shudder. Her hips buck at the sensation of Bradley’s huge member inside of her and Jake’s hand circling her clit. She feels so full and stimulated. Bradley feels her clenching on him more, biting his shoulder so hard he’s sure it will leave a mark. But he doesn’t care, the only thing he wants is to make their girl feel good.

Y/n sees stars she feels the tight knot in her stomach exploding. Her vision grows white when the earth shattering orgasm hits her. She feels Bradley pumping into her, feeling his member switch his whole body shuddering but never loosen his grip on her hips. Jake comes with them, hitting Bradley’s thigh with his hot cum. He stops the gente circling around y/n’s clit as to not overstimulate her further.

Bradley nearly can’t catch his breath as he slowly comes down from his high. His heart is beating so fast in his chest like if he had run a marathon.  He feels the body of the woman in his arms go limp and with the help of Jake he sets her down on her feet. Her knees buckle and he cradles her small shaking body in his arms, kissing the top of her head.

Jake turns off the water which is already cold by now and hurries out of the shower to get towels for him and his partners but especially for y/n who seems to be out of it once more.

When he comes back, having a big fluffy towel in store, he sees his partner still cradling and holding up the limp body of the smaller woman.

“Let’s wrap her up in the towel and lay her down in your bed.” Bradley suggests a bit concerned that she once again is not really responsive.

---

Y/n’s eyes slowly flutter open as she feels herself being carried out of the bathroom. “Roo-y?”

“Hey, princess. You’re okay. Let’s rest a bit in Jakey’s bed okay? You fainted on us again.”

Bradley gently places her body on the soft mattress of the blonde pilot’s bed. When she feels the mattress dips beside her she instantly snuggles into the man laying down next to her.

“That’s so embarrassing. I’m sorry…” She hides her face in Bradley’s chest.

“Hey, look at me.” He tilts her head to look her in the eyes. “That’s not embarrassing. We’re just concerned when you pass out on us. Maybe we’re too eager, too intense or rough with you, I don’t know…”

“No, please… It was so earth shattering, so good like the first time. You two make me feel so good. Please never stop to make feel this way…” Y/n kisses the brunette pilot to make sure he knows how good she feels after having sex with them.

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