#bradley x y/n

[missmarveledsblog]

Where the hell have you been ... all my life ( Bradley Bradshaw x reader )

summary : when a pretty woman shows up at the bar well there's a questions on rooster lips only to find out she not that much of a stranger

warning : fluffy as hell it since my bet on it series been angsty as hell , age gap 10 years , fast burn because this rooster is a hopeless romantic

Friday a beautiful day of the week , one that signified the start of the weekend , one of sleeping in and being lazy . one of not training recruits or test flights  it was glorious day of the week and what made it better was having a drink or two after long hard week .  The perfect place to do such a thing was the hard deck of course a place  he know  all his life , fond memories that laced in it walls  and now he was following foot steps of the greatest men in his life . something surreal about being back even though he’s been here years now.  In all his memories and all his life though he never saw the place as busy as it was shit he couldn’t even see the bar at all as his fellow naval officers crowds the space excitedly. 

“ hey bradshaw got you a beer “ nat held the bottle up as he noticed the rest of the bar was empty , women tag chaser sitting at vacant table eyeing up the men that weren’t paying attention . 

“ penny have a deal on or something ?” he took the beer his head tilt wondering what the commotion could be . 

“some thing like that ?” she snorted as she looked to see her fellow dagger squad members coming back pouting like children . 

“ what’s wrong with you  guys “ 

“ we couldn’t get to talk to her long , jake did though” javy rolled his eyes . 

“ yeah she rejected him “ fanboy snorted . 

“ she did not reject me , all she said was she busy which she is “ the blonde shrugged . 

“ a girl all of this over a girl” he laughed wavy his arm in the direction of  the crowd . 

“ a very hot girl even bob went up “ payback smirked.

“ what are you highschoolers “ rooster snorted . 

“ once you see her man you will understand” was all jake said before he and guys  spilt into teams . 

He hated it , hated how right jake was because when the crowd started to push back either reject or fear of rejection he caught the sight of a woman that made his throat dry up and his mouth water all in one hell if he knew that’s what was waiting at the bar all this time he would of climbed his fellow navy brothers.  Everything was perfection from those eyes that sparkle or a smile warm enough to rivaled  the sun . maybe he was a highschooler because the moment his eyes hit hers well fuck he almost swallowed the bottle whole , glass and all .  He didn’t listen to his friends  “ told you so “ or  much of anything as  he strolled leisurely over to the bar or though he thinks he did .  he watch and waited his turned how he was almost  a goofy grin on his face as he watched her laugh and joke with the older men trying to relive their youth til that smile was directed at him , how  he went from wow to deer in headlights real fast . not wanting to screw it up or make a fool of himself as she got closer and closer. 

“ what can  i get you “ she smiled nearly melting him into the seat and he sighed out his order. 

Sitting on the seat he turned to see an older guy nodded and winking before nudging his head  in her direction as bradley grimaced turning his attention to anything but . it was the beer it had to be the alcohol to why words where failing him . then she came back handing his beer bright smile once more before asking him if he needed anything else which at that point he should of said “ no thank you “ but instead he asked : 

“ i need to know where the hell you’ve been…  all  my life” .

He could feel the cringe of his own words and action building throughout  , cursing his brain and mouth for betraying him in such a way and yet astonishingly  she didn’t throw a drink  in his face or tell him get the hell out but instead she broke out into laughter .

“ on the ground  while your in the sky flyboy “ she called before heading to serve another patron . 

“ how you know i’m a fly boy “ he asked turning her attention back to him . 

“ because i know flyboys all my life can tell em a mile away “ she shrugged . 

“ parents in the navy ? or family member… please don't say a husband or boyfriend  “ he winked. 

“ nah none of that .. my dad is … speak of the devil “ she nodded to the door as he turned wondering which of his higher ups produced one of the most beautiful women he’s ever known to exist only for that smile to falter the moment his eyes clapped on pete mitchell . 

“ Mav.. oh my god y/n “ he gasped  .

 “ how you know my name?” her head tilted making her look even more adorable in his eyes . 

“ see you bumped into bradley , whats it been ten years since you seen each other” pete smiled proudly seeing the two together . 

“so that’s where i was all your life growing up “ she snorted . 

“ yeah not my proudest moment … should let me take you dinner make it up “ .

“ don’t you mean catch up “ pete asked as penny stood knowing smile looking between the two . 

“ whatever gets her to say yes to dinner and i stop looking like an idiot “ . 

“ wouldn’t want that “ she amused smile on her face . 

“ actually its quiet here so why don’t you get off early since start of your first night was so crazy “ penny winked . 

“ ok let me grab my stuff “  she shrugged . 

“ i’ll say by to my friends “ he nodded.  “ especially jake” he added almost bouncing to his group . 

“ what just happened “ pete scratched the back of his neck . 

“ just fate unfolding before your eyes ” penny smirked as she handed him a beer. 

The smile on his face , nothing could take it off not even bagman when he got to his friends . 

“ she turn ya down listen chicken i’ll take care of her” he snickered . 

“ i got a date see you tomorrow, maybe not ..” he went to turn only for them to crowd him.

“ how you get a date .. shit i should of went up  “ the blonde cursed . 

“ funny thing actually  i know her well last time i saw her was when she was a kid … that doesn’t sound good anyways she grown up and hot … “ 

“ stop talking before i call the cops “ nat grimaced. 

“ it’s not like that you sicko  , i mean is this is gonna be my future wife i can already tell so i’ll  keep you updated especially bagman and i’ll see you later “ he almost sang as he headed to where she was waiting . 

“ you ready to go old man ?” she asked walking out ahead of him . 

“ hey i’m not that old” he called after her the big smile on his face said he didn’t care . 

“ rooster gonna be my son in law isn’t he” pete sighed as he watched the two disappear out into the night .

“ i mean your already like a father figure in his life why not add in law at the end of it “ penny nudged him excited to see the story unfold .

He couldn't believe the shift in his night , he wanted to pinch himself to see if it was real that was til he felt the sting on his forearm . 

“ did you just pinch me ?” he chuckled . 

“ yeah i was asking where are we going ?” she laughed . 

“ oh yeah i should of asked where would you like huh?  “ he smiled nervously . 

“ here give me your phone “ she rolled her eyes taking it from him hand putting in her own address unaware to him . 

“  so what made you come to san diego and your mom how is she ?” he asked softly . 

“ mom is good married to another mom lila ,   oh and i came to go college and hopefully become a doctor dad’s trying to get me to  work on base but i told him it not how that works “ she rolled her eyes .

“ i knew it .. about your mom i mean her and Mav never made sense plus i’ve seen her eye up some of the moms  at your plays and stuff “ he exclaimed making that beautiful melody that was her laugh. 

“ dude you never realized  that my mom and Mav were never actually together it was just to my grandfather happy  and me a product of too many drinks and experimentation which honestly i wish my mom took to her grave , my dad got me and to look like he was well getting his shit together but well he’s pete mitchell that only last so long “ . 

“ now that you say it i never saw them be a couple like buddies at best “ his brows furrowed. 

“ he had more sexual tension with ice than he did my mom ,  but my mom is happiest she been in year and mama lila is awesome  all about vibes and auras  while my mom is still navy seriousness they balance each other out “ she explained . 

“  so navy baby with peace and love  turns out to be a doctor ?”he chuckled. 

“ healing hands bradshaw  best booboo helper since pre k “ she winked. 

“ working in the hard deck ?” 

“ oh that’s just help penny out since she my step mom” . 

“ hey you got all these moms and i got no parents ? no fair share with orphan ?” he poke her sides making her burst into eruptions of giggles .  “ wait where are we?” he asked looking around to see nothing but houses .

“ well you never said where we were going so i thought my place so i can make you food instead … i mean you are my future husband if i heard correctly “ she got out of the car coy smile on her face. 

“ wait your heard that .. oh shit i was just .. i didn’t … “ 

“ are you coming or not ?” she called . 

“ yes ma’am “ 

@shanimallina87 something fluffy since my bet on it series is in sad stage

[waklman]

Headache #2

summary: whipped bf bradley. thats all.

pairing: bradley bradshaw x reader

warnings: 18+ blog in general.

a/n: domestic blurb, fluff, and slight suggestive themes.

word count: 1.9k

Bradley jolts at the first shrilling ring of his alarm.

Before his brain could even start to function, he instinctively cradles your head closer against his naked chest, making sure to cup a hand over your ear, attempting to muffle the sound. 

You begin to stir, feeling Bradley stretch over you to shut off the blaring alarm. 

Hearing you suck in a long breath, he retracts his body from yours—giving you room to stretch your stiff muscles.

But before he could fully give you space, Bradley feels you reach for his hand—with a demanding noise emanating from your throat. 

He smiles at your cranky state, and wordlessly grabs the small of your back and hip, helping you twist your middle until a loud crack of your back is heard from under the sheets. 

Bradley snorts, hearing a shameless moan leave your lips, satisfied by the relief he brought you. 

“Mm, that feel good honey? 

In reaction, your mouth starts to salivate at the sound of his morning voice, which always fell an octave lower than his usual tone. You swallow back the drool that begins to pool.

Suddenly feeling more awake, you turn to fully face him–eagerly wiping at your eyes to see his face. 

Bradley has a lovesick look in his eyes as he closely watches your eyes flutter open to look up at him.

You two take a moment to bask in the silence—smiling as you assess eachother’s bedheads, still recovering from just waking up so early. 

You notice that Bradley's soft curls are currently resting on his forehead, which makes him look even more boyishly handsome this morning.

Feeling shy under his gaze, you throw yourself into his arms and Bradley gladly catches you–though you cause his back to crash against the headboard with a thud.

Knowing how bad your guilty conscience can get, Bradley press a gentle kiss to the side of your head to let you know he was unharmed, before you could start feeling guilty for hurting him. He places another lingering kiss on your hair line, just for good measure.

Recently, you had been waking up hours earlier than you normally would, simply because Bradley mentioned once that he would love to have you implanted in his 6am morning routine.

“You ready?” he asks, feeling you move to tuck your face into the crook of his neck.

He smiles softly as you readily wrap your legs around his waist, causing your tank top to ride up your back as you adjust yourself in his lap. 

Bradley takes that as a yes, deciding to swiftly move you both off the bed, holding you up with one arm as the other reaches down to pull the sheets back—a failed attempt at making your bed look neater. 

He feels so warm against your exposed skin, that you feel yourself being lulled back into a state of drowsiness again.

Bradley begins to take soft steps towards the bathroom until the lovesick feeling from earlier returns—smacking him right in his chest when he feels you breathe softly against his neck. His mind briefly wanders off to his parents—Nick and Carole Bradshaw, hoping that they see how happy he is to wake up in the morning now. 

Bradley now stands still, looking between the bathroom light switch and a vanilla candle—ultimately deciding on lighting the candle so you’re not hit with the harsh white light above you. 

He softly pats your butt, alerting you that you’re now in the bathroom, but you don’t answer him. 

Bradley curiously dips you—allowing the back of your thighs to hit the cold surface of the bathroom vanity. You squirm in his arms, awoken by the goosebumps that scatter across your skin. In a rush of panic, you climb higher up his torso to avoid being placed onto the countertop again.

“Baby, I can’t brush my teeth with you clung to my chest,” he gently rubs your back, hand reaching under your cotton tank top. 

He frowns hearing you let out a disappointed sigh. Bradley watches in guilt as you untangle from him—legs loosely falling from his waist, allowing your feet drop to the cold floor. 

You hide your pout from view, leaning your forehead softly against his stomach—so he could only see the top of your head.  

Bradley casts his gaze down on you as he brings his hands down to pinch your hips—while his mind quickly searches for a solution.

“You wanna get on my back instead, sweet girl?” Bradley is laying it on thick with the pet names this morning, making your stomach swirl with butterflies.

You’re too swayed by how sweet Bradley’s being with you to pretend to hold out on his offer. 

Not wasting a second, you scatter to stand behind him–stretching your arms to reach his neck as he lowers himself so you can latch onto his back. 

“There you go,” he reaches his arm under one of your thighs, securing you in place.

You decide to distract him in various ways as he begins to brush his teeth, because why not?

Bradley’s face is completely flushed as you go from biting his ear to whispering all the dirty things you want to do to him with the most innocent smile on your face, all while making eye contact with him through the mirror as he urgently brushes his teeth.

After a full minute and a half of brushing is up—a rule enforced by you, Bradley rushes to rinse his mouth, leaning down to reach the sink—and you don’t lessen his arousal because you begin to place deliberate kisses behind his ear and across his jawline. 

He quickly swipes the water leaking from his chin with the back of his hand, almost tripping over his own feet as he turns around so you could hop off his back to sit onto the bathroom countertop.

“Hi. Ready for skincare?” you casually ask, as if you weren’t dedicating the last few minutes towards riling him up. 

He blinks, facing you with the most emotionless face you've ever seen him pull. You blink back, mirroring his blank expression. 

You break first, sputtering a laugh—weakly grabbing for him to move closer as tears of laughter prick your eyes. Bradley moves to stand between your thighs, tongue poking his cheek, trying not to break from your infectious laughter. 

“You’re so not funny,” he scoffs. 

“Aww c’mon Stinkybutt,” you poke at his ribs with a moisturizer bottle in hand, wiping away your tears with your other hand.

“Can you ever be nice to me? Does that even count as a nice pet name?” He whines, scrunching his face.

“Would you rather me call you Hangman?” You raise a brow at him, squeezing out a dime sized drop of moisturizer onto his forehead.

“I’ll take Stinkybutt,” he sighs, closing his eyes as you rub the product into his skin. 

“That’s what I thought,” you nod.

“Now stay still Stinkybutt, you need sunscreen next.”

“Yes, Ma'am.”

“Stinky…butt?” Bob stutters.

“What?” Bradley asks bewildered, unsure if he heard the fellow pilot correctly.

“That’s what your tag says, Stinkybutt.” Phoenix speaks up for Bob, with an amused grin sitting on her face. 

Bradley quickly opens his locker to access the mirror inside. 

And there it was. A pink sticky note labeled “Stinkybutt<3” which you sneakily slapped onto his chest—while you were giving him a goodbye kiss, sitting proudly on his flight suit.

Bradley swipes his hand over his face, reaching for his phone next.

“Really?” he texts you—eye twitching as your text bubble appears immediately after. 

Headache #2: 

Hey. I gave you options, Hangman or Stinkybutt. 🤷‍♀️

BradBrad:

text u later, headache #1 just got here.

Headache #2:

..who?

note: yes, jake is headache #1 in bradley's phone.

thank you for reading, and as always-reblogs are greatly appreciated!

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[thewulf]

Like Me, Maybe Love Me? || Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw

Summary: Request - What about one where the reader is at the hard deck with friends and gets hit on by Bradley, she of course brushes it off as him being friendly and doesn’t really think she’s being hit on.... Read Rest Here

A/N: whipped this one out. LOVED writing this fluffy, sappy, cute ass piece. Not super edited, hope you guys enjoy! Thanks for the request @loving-and-dreaming

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Y/N

Word Count: 1.8k +

“Hey pretty lady. You look beautiful tonight.” Bradley’s voice spoke from your side. Turning your head, you saw Natasha give you a knowing smile. She’d been so adamant that Bradley had feelings for you. Which you’d concluded just wasn’t possible. Not Bradley Bradshaw. Not the guy that had charisma for days and could pull literally any beautiful woman that walked into the Hard Deck. Why would he like you then? Your brain just couldn’t comprehend the thought.

Giving him a playful shove, you rolled your eyes turning back to look at the beer in your hands, not at those pretty brown eyes that looked all too amused. Silently cursing Natasha for leaving you alone with him, you whispered, “Whatever Bradshaw.”

He waved down the bartender ordering himself, and you, a round, “I’m not kidding Bug, you look really pretty. I like seeing you in civvy clothes.” His smile could’ve made you melt then and there had you not been white knuckling the countertops for balance.

Bradley had taken it upon himself to give you the nickname Bug after he decided he didn’t like your callsign, Spider. He always claimed you looked like more of a Bug than a Spider, whatever the hell that meant. Not that you minded, you liked the attention from him. Who wouldn’t?

Thankful you did in fact put foundation on after debating it because your cheeks were surely a nice red color now, “Hmm.” You sighed quickly, “Thanks, I guess.” It was a mumble as you played with the condensation on your glass rather than look at him.

He knew you were uncomfortable. In the way you shrunk in on yourself and your extreme fear of accepting a compliment he knew what he had to do. He had to make you see exactly what he saw. The kindest, sweetest, most thoughtful, and truly one of the most beautiful women he’d gotten the pleasure of getting to know in Top Gun 2.0. He’d decided early on he was going to pursue you. For some reason that he couldn’t figure out, you didn’t see what he saw.

He continued knowing it was time. He’d been patient with you, but he’d seemed to hit a wall that he needed to climb over. He wanted you, the real you. Not the one that shied away when he came around. He was always so jealous when he’d see you throw your head back in laughter at a stupid joke somebody else told you. You were so animated in the way you conversed, and it only got more pronounced the more you drank. That was just one of the things Bradley had come to adore about you. You expressed yourself as an open book, so easy to read. Like right now, uncomfortable and shying away.

“As a matter a fact,” He set his glass down so you’d look at him. He smirked when it worked. His eyes traced your face noticing the rosy cheeks and almost afraid eyes, “You look beautiful everyday Y/N.”

Your eyes crinkled together in confusion. What in the hell was going on? Sure, you and Bradley were flirty from time to time. But you’d thought it was just a joke. He was going further than either of you had cared too over the last four weeks. Did Nat put him up to this?

“Oh, really?” You asked. Your voice was so small you wanted to slap the sense right back into yourself. Why couldn’t you just be normal and converse with the man? Why oh why did your brain have to do this to yourself?

His smirk softened down to a smile seeing as your brain was surely reeling. He needed to make you feel comfortable, not afraid of him like you were looking just moments prior.

A small nod confirmed your question, “Yes. You know I’d never lie to you. I think you’re so beautiful. Have from the second I laid eyes on you in class. Why do you think I sat down next to you pretty? I’ve only grown to like you more and more the more I get to know you.”

The look on his face gave way to the fact that he was indeed being sincere. But it just didn’t make sense. Not at all, “Why?” You asked as you looked back into his eyes, “Why me?”

Bradley really didn’t want to have this conversation at the bar. No, not with the music blaring. He didn’t want to yell his heart out to you. So, he nodded towards the door extending a hand to you. Offering to walk you to it.

Without a second though you put your hand in his. He grinned as he laced his fingers between yours. Gently, he pulled you towards the back exit onto the beach. Thankful it was a chillier night for a few reasons. One in that the back patio was almost empty. Two in that he could pull you close to him as soon as you started shivering. Which wouldn’t be very long by the way he judged the rapidly falling temperatures once the sun had set.

He didn’t give you much of an option as he pulled you onto the outdoor couch close to him. He knew you’d sit on the chair across from the fire pit rather than sit next to him. But he wasn’t giving you that option, no. Not when he knew how badly you had wanted this just as much as he did. He was ready to take the next step so long as you were too.

“Bug.” He started. You looked up to him slowly enjoying your hand still in his. He used his thumb to rub circles on the back of your hand trying to calm your racing heart.

“Yeah?” You asked not being able to take the silence from him.

He smiled seeing your brain working in overdrive. He had to put you out of your misery, “You have to know how amazing you are. You’re incredible.”

When you tried to look away he grabbed your chin with his free hand turning you back to him, “Can I see those pretty eyes?” He dropped his gentle embrace on your face leaving a trail of rippling goosebumps in its path.

Your nod let him know you were going to oblige to his request, but you couldn’t find the words to speak.

“Thank you my dear.” He grinned seeing that blush reappear rapidly, “Now, where was I?”

“I…” You gulped not sure what the hell to say to him. You truly were at

“Oh yeah, you’re incredible. You’re the smartest pilot I’ve ever worked with. Like, no joke. You’re the only one of us who’s gotten a kill on Mav. I thought I fell in love with you right then and there.” He snickered not seeing your face fully freaking out now. Bradley could love you? That just, no. You’d only known him for four weeks. There wasn’t a way. Not a damn way.

“You what?” You gulped not sure if you’d heard him right

His smile softened once he saw your panic, “Relax, Y/N. Just breathe.” He didn’t deny it though. He wasn’t going to lie to you. He did in fact love you. Sure, it had only been four weeks, but he’d spent almost every hour of those last four weeks with you. He’d gotten to know you. To see how incredible, you really were. Bradley was hooked. You had him in the palm of your hands and you didn’t even know it.

Another nod and a squeeze of your hand on his let him know you were fine, “I’m sorry, I just… I don’t know Bradley.” A sigh escaped your lips after struggling to find the words to explain it to him.

“Don’t apologize. Your feelings are valid. What’s going on up there?” He tapped on your forehead gently.

Might as well ask him. He was being so genuine with you, “Are you being serious?”

His expression to one of almost, hurt? But he shook it off nodding his head, “Yes Y/N. Why would I lie?” He asked you now, flipping the script back on you.

“I don’t…” You started before he placed a finger on your lips.

The shake of the head stopped you in your tracks, “I think you do. You can tell me.” He brushed your hair away from your face, “If you want. No pressure.” His smile let you know just how much he really truly did care for you.

“Nobody has ever picked me. I guess I just don’t get why you would.” It was so quiet you could hear a needle drop. Just the waves and Bradley’s stare on you.

“Nobody has ever picked you because you scare the shit out of them sweetheart.” He spit out before his brain could really process it. But it was true.

“What?” That was a new one.

He scooted closer seeing the cold starting to nip at your skin. He knew it was fine seeing the pretty little blush spread across your face, “You intimidate most men sweetheart. And the ones you don’t scare the living shit out of are brushed off. You’re doing it right now.”

“I don’t remember signing up for a therapy session Bradshaw.” You muttered out feeling a touch better at that admission from the man you’d been crushing on for so long.

He laughed feeling the tension slowly leaving the air. You seemed to have a new lightness to you after finally admitting what had been on your tongue for so long, “Love’s a therapy session.”

“You keep saying that word.” You replied quickly, almost as if your brain had lost its filter now that you’d admitted your fear to him. One that he brushed off so quickly it didn’t even seem reasonable to fear over.

His eyes quipped up, “I can stop.”

“I didn’t say that Bradley.”

He let out a soft chuckle, “Okay, I won’t then.”

“So,” You decided to make a move on him, might as well. He’d made every single move in the last thirty minutes. He was genuine. You closed the gap completely leaning into his side. He snaked an arm around your waist letting it rest on the top of your thigh. Your heart was hammering in your chest afraid you say or do something stupid.

“So.” He smile so big once you leaned your head down on his chest after having a battle with yourself on whether to do it or not. Without a second thought he began running a hand through your hair as if he’d done it a thousand time before.

“You like me, maybe love me?” You asked with a devious grin on your face starting to believe that the man was in face telling you the truth.

This time Bradley threw his head back in laughter. Once he began to calm he spoke with a look of love laced in his eyes, “Yeah, I like you. Yeah, I maybe love you.” He winked letting you decide what he meant.

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[girl-in-the-chairs-void]

Bradley’s Sex tape

Pairing; Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x fem!reader

Word count; 2.6k

Warning/Tags; MINORS DNI, 18+, I am not even sure what you call these things but hey! I’m gonna lost as many things as I can…PORN. Unprotected sex, mutual masturbation, toy use, rope bunny (handcuffs), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, orgasm denial, begging/crying, sadism(?), pet names, degrading, exhibitionism(?), let me know if i missed anything

A/n; okay, maybe this is something filthier, I’m apparently a slit for The Bradshaw men…Enjoy!! i also hate the fact that its only 2.6k but i guess... let me know what you guys think!!!

Taglist; @roostersrooster @lovinglyeternal @bussyslayer333 @lovingbradshawafterdark @blue-aconite @theamuz @birdy-bat-writes @whoreforseresin @bradshawsweetheart @roosterbruiser @ohtobeleah @startrekfangirl2233 (tagging some horny mutuals<33)

Bradley couldn’t believe what flowed through his ears. The sweet sound of your voice that he admired so much- asking for something that was totally out of character.

He smooths his hands over the soft fabric of the shirt you were wearing- his shirt- a white button down that you had silently stole from his closet a while ago, a few buttons from the top undone, paired with nothing but your cute little cotton underwear. The length of your hair fell over your shoulders, sculpting and enhancing your appearance; your eyes resembling one of a touch starved puppy by the way they were blown out, completely taking over the colour of your iris’. You looked heavenly.

“Please, Brad..” you plead to him through thick lashes, burying yourself onto his lap further that he almost lets out a groan at the pressure you were putting on his hardening cock.

“You can record it with the camcorder I bought you for your birthday,” you whisper lowly, pressing your face closer to him, grazing your cheek against his, smooth skin against his rough stubble as you kiss your way down to that sweet spot under his ear. nibbling at his earlobe.

“Baby, are you sure? I know we’ve done some simple stuff, but-“

You pause your movements, fisting up a chunk of his collared shirt, pulling him by the material to smash your lips into his in a swift motion. his warm hands find their way under your shirt, massaging the soft- cold skin, you let out a soft sound of content, wrapping a free hand around the nape of his neck to deepen the kiss. You swipe your tongue at his bottom lip for access; which he gives you immediately.

The wet sounds of your lips working against each other is loud against the soft music that flows through the vinyl player in the corner of your shared living room. Your hands are caressing his baby hair that sit at the bottom of his neck carefully, softly tugging at them from moment to moment before he pulls away; your foreheads resting against each other, breathes mingling though open mouths.

“I’m sure, Bradshaw, wouldn’t want you to stop; even if it hurts.” You breath out.

That is all he needs before he is grabbing the flesh of your ass, hoisting you up and carrying you to your shared bedroom.

He enters the bedroom in full stride, throwing you onto the mattress with little to no effort, it never ceases to amaze you how strong he is but then again- he works for the navy.

You let out a small squeak as your ass hits the bed, using your elbows to support your weight as you look up at Bradley with your lips parted. his and your eyes hold such lust them; longing after your time apart. and your idea was probably only going to fuel into his need to fuck you into the morning.

He walks backwards, keeping eyes contact with you until he reaches his closet. Opening it to pull out the small Sony camcorder you had gotten him for his birthday. He hasn’t used it yet, but the thought of you being the first person recorded on the thing, laying on his bed, legs spread, wearing his shirt, it is dizzying.

But there was one thing new about this. The vibrator and pair of pink feather handcuffs on his bedside table.

Now, Bradley knew he didn't own one, but, you did. It’s not a purchase you had made a while ago though, you’d bought it for tonight, and when it arrived on your doorstep this morning, wrapped up in pastel pink packaging. You knew it was time.

He walks back towards you, setting up the camcorder on the table that sits in front of your bed and starting it. The red light comes on as he comes to stand in front you, fully naked of any clothing except his black boxers.

“Strip” the order is curt as he stands near the bedpost, watching you like a hawk.

You teasingly tug at the buttons of his shirt, looking into the camera.

“Eyes here, sweetheart.” You try taking your sweet time but the look on his face- so stern-has you working a little faster for it to be called teasing. You rid yourself of the cotton short and bra, only leaving the soft lace of your panties around your pelvis.

Rooster is at awe at the sight of you, naked, on all fours, crawling your way towards the machine. But he is on his way to it in an instant. Snatching it out of your grasp before your can even start it.

“Did I say you could take that thing of yours?”

Your eyes are wide, pupils blown as you look up at him through thick lashes and nibble at your wet lips. It makes the ever growing bulge in his boxers strain against the fabric, becoming a little more painful to hold in.

"Roos.." you coo, sweet and seductive.

You crawl towards him, lifting yourself on your knees to grab his shoulders but he doesn’t let it. Instead, moving forward to let you fall on your back on the bed, spreading your knees out so your lace panties, such a deep red with a patch of wetness where your sweet hole is meant to be.

He grabs at the fabric. Ripping it with a single tug and discarding somewhere near the bed. He doesn’t care about that. But seeing you, naked on his bed like that has him gong feral.

He moves to settle on the small seat across the bed, having a perfect view of you splayed out in front of him like an art piece at the exhibition.

“Touch yourself.”

You feel intimidated by the man in front you. Not in a bad way of course. But this...this Bradley is different. The lust in his eyes is evident and the way he is palming his cock through the thick fabric of this boxers, you’re sure he won’t last long.

Slowly you trail a hand down your body. Feeling the hardness of your nipples, squeezing and tugging at the flesh as you let out soft moans of Bradley’s name, closing your eyes in pleasure before trailing the hand further down to your bundle of nerves that’s soaked in your wetness already.

You circle the tiny thing, moaning at the movements, imagining the man in front of you was using his tongue to make you come on it.

Bradley isn’t doing well either. His cock is stood proud on his hand, running his fingers above the head, flicking at it. As he moans at your sweet sounds.

The vibrator isn’t exactly abandoned. You’re midway into your orgasm, pretty sure that you’re going to cum if you keep flicking at your clit like that before you hear shuffling. Bradley…

The low hum of the vibrator hits you as you feel the it work right above your clit. You jump slightly at the sudden contact of the cool silicone, but Bradley’s large hands grab harshly but not too strongly at your hips, keeping you in place.

He shifts you towards the left, putting you parallel to the camera so it would have a perfect view of your tits, naked on the bed with Bradley between your legs.

“Such a good slut, aren’t ya’? Who would’ve thought, such innocent face,” he holds your face in his, smooshing your cheeks-a tight grip on your chin. Heavy lidded eyes making contact with his big brown ones, “holds such filth. Might show the team this, huh? What would they think of you?”

You whimper, loudly. Hands coming to rest on his stomach, feeling his toned muscles, his lean stomach and- fuck. There is a sweet pain that comes with this amount of pressure on your clit and it certainly isn’t there to keep you quiet.

You’re so lost in your pleasure that you don’t notice that Bradley has taken the feathery little bracelets and has started tugging at your wrists, locking your arms above your head.

“Brad…”

It’s the first coherent thing that’s fallen out of your pretty mouth in a while and his name sounds so intoxicating spilling out of those lips that it makes him up the intensity of the machine in his hand. Pressing it further into your tender flesh that already overstimulated.

“Fuck-ohmygod-“

“You like that, baby? Look at you, all fucked out f’me. Haven’t even made you cum yet,”

You’re clenching around nothing. He hasn’t even given you his fingers while he abuses your sensitive flesh with the pink thing. You’re sure you could cry, your vision is already blurry with hot tears brewing at the corner of your eyes. Threatening to overflow.

“Please, Brad, ple-“ he increases the level by another and a loud moan escapes your pretty lips, mouth open wide to let out a scream of pleasure.

“What, baby? Tell me what’s got you begging at my fingertips. Didn’t you want this?”

The neighbours will definitely complain about this.

But you don’t care right now, no. It’s all too much before you feel his hands crawling their way into your core, wandering over the flesh of your thighs. He hooks them over his shoulders, biting and softly nipping at the skin as he moves

You’re overstimulated to a point where you’re unconsciously grinding and thrusting your hips towards his mouth.

And he’s lapping up your juices like a starved man. Tonguing into your clenching pussy. He swears under his breath as you close around him.

“Fuck- Brad, I’m-“

“did I tell you that you could cum, doll?”

You shake your head nervously. The tone of his voice is stern and commanding, there is no doubt that he isn’t the soft Rooster you know.

He shifts on his knees, moving the small vibrator away from your sensitive clit. He stands tall over you, towering. His hard cock is smothered in pre-cum, leaking onto the sheets.

Getting off the bed, he moves towards the camera on the table, taking it in his hands to bring towards you, a perfect view.

He brings two fingers to the tender flesh, running his fingers through- spreading the slick and you finally let the dam break. Leaking into his fingers as you cry out in pain and pleasure.

“Tsk, tsk..” he coos, “I told you not to do that sweetheart,”

You know he’s recording all of it. Every small movement from you. The closeups of your pussy dripping onto his p fingers to the way you’re struggling to get your hands out of the soft grasp of the cuffs.

It’s a blur, one moment his fingers are sliding in you, the other he is is straightening up and aligning the top of his cock with your dripping pussy.

You’re screaming. You’re sure that if he keeps thrusting in and out of you with such intensity you will not last. Slowly pulling, before thrusting back in, you an feel him in your abdomen.

“Such a good girl, takin’ me in so good,” He places a hand on the bottom of your stomach, feeling the way it rises up as the top of his cock hits deep within you. The bump is noticeable and it makes Bradley spiral with thoughts. Something that he’s thought about before with you.

“Look at that, baby. Y’ look so good with that bump of my cock inside you.”

You’re fucked out of your brain that all you can mutter out is a low hum.

“Y’want my baby in you, doll? Want you walking around with a swollen belly with a kid of mine-fuck,”

He’s so good to you, and the way he’s been praising you, you can’t do much but nod at his request. He’s close, the way his thrust are getting faster and his cock is twitching inside you, you know he’s close.

“Want- want your baby in me, please..Roos,” you plead, and the moan that follows that string of thought is vulgar to say the least. Pornographic. The way he has your legs hooked to his shoulders, vibrator long forgotten. Your arms hurt from being tied above your head for so long but all you can think of is the way he is hitting that one spot- so sweetly- in you.

“Fuck baby,” his hips stutter, movements faltering as he bottoms out one last time, thrusting back in as he spills inside you with a string of curses following.

“Gonna watch this thing again, look to the camera baby, wanna see you look at me when I watch it again.”

Your eyes flutter open at the command, look up towards Rooster and the camera lens right below him. You hear him coo at the tears spilling out of your eyes, setting the pink thing aside to smooth out the hair from your sweaty face.

“Roos…it hurts, please,” you breath, your voice is hoarse, cracking as you shake your hands that are tied above you, the feathers reducing no amount of bruising being caused around your wrists.

“This is gonna hurt a little bit, okay?” The heads up catches you mildly off guard, but you don’t pay much mind as he slowly pulls out of you. Letting out a soft sigh, you already miss the stretch of cock, the way it hit your sweet spot just minutes ago.

He dips his hand between your entangled bodies, gathering up the thick ooze and bringing them to your mouth.

“Open up baby,” he slides the fingers into your mouth, expecting tour tongue to lap up the juices and you do. Sucking on it’ll the digits until they are pressing on the father part of your tongue-making you gag on them.

“Fuck, baby, you look so good like that,” he praises, admiring the way you suck on his fingers. He runs his hands up and down your body, feeling the warm skin heat up with his touch a little more; the way your hard nipples are perked, begging for attention; the way there is a thin sheen of sweat forming over your forehead and torso, and Bradley has the obscene need to lick it off of you. It’s dirty- downright absurd, but the way you’re making him feel- god fuck you’re beautiful.

He sets the camera aside. On the bedside table, still on. He kisses your pelvic, bending down to eat off your leaking cunt. you let out soft whimpers as he does so, he does it so softly that you feel like a porcelain doll in his grasp.

"Roo..." you plead again, "the cuffs- fuck it hurts" there are tears staining the bedsheets, and Bradley almost loses and just thrusts back into you again before he restrains himself.

Lowering your lifted pelvic, he reaches forward, resting one hand beside you and unlocking the straps before letting your writs lose. He brings them forward, kissing the redness already starting to form.

"I'm sorry, baby, should've told me I did them too tight." he apologizes, softness already seeping back into him.

"No," tugging your hands away from his grasp, you reach forward, pulling him into a kiss. its soft, tender. “I liked it-just,” you let out a small sniffle, “got too much..”

He swear he could melt this very moment. The way your naked body is say on him, his hands on your hips, feeling the way your body has been sculpted in the shape of a literal goddess. He kisses between your breast, licking and nipping his way up the valley, he kisses your neck- oh so gently; he kisses his way up to your neck, your jaw until he finally reaches your lips again. Moulding them into his own, capturing your bottom lip between his teeth. He connects your lips again in a hurry, tongue against tongue.

He pulls away, a sting of spit between the two of you. Foreheads resting against each other.

“Wanna go again?”

[ohtobeleah]

Please do more for the Rooster concept where the reader has a daughter! Step!dad Rooster x reader is such a great one.

Alright here we go. Another series. But honestly down bad for this one. Only fluff ahead. Based off this concept

***~***~***~

“There’s no way a bird did this—“ You huffed as you practically hung half your body over into Jake Seresins Super Hornet right engine bay. This was the last thing you wanted to be looking at at three thirty in the afternoon. “You idiot—!” Shaking your head in disbelief as you pulled feathers from the rotors. Watching as they fell from your grapes, floating down to where Jake stood below you.

“Well it’s not like I could really control it now could I?” Jake groaned in response to your dismay as he stood holding the bottom of the ladder for you. He’d been able to manage a controlled landing with one engine. Most pilots couldn’t even imagine having to do that on their best day, but Hangman? He remained as calm and as level headed as he could. “Reckon you can fix her up?”

“I mean I’ll give it my best shot, but I’m no miracle worker.” Climbing down the ladder a little before you jumped to the ground with a soft thud. Dusting the oil and gunk your gloves had collected on to your technician suit before pulling them off and pocketing them. “I’d say about two, three days tops she’ll be out of action though—I dunno if I’ll need to order parts—“

“What can you do overnight?” Your eyes grew a little wider as you crossed your arms over your chest. Wondering just where the hell on god's green earth Jake Hangman Seresin had found the audacity to come into your workshop and demand you pull overtime just for him. “Please? come on it’s my baby—“

“Jake I gotta pick my daughter up this afternoon—“ You groaned in defiance. “How’s it fair you get to knock off early after wrecking a multi million-dollar fighter jet and I’ve gotta stay back and fix your mess?” You had known Jake pretty much your entire life. He was like a brother, well– he was more than a brother considering your actual brothers hadn’t spoken to you since you were sixteen.

“All I asked Fe, is what you could do for me overnight.” Hangman smirked as he packed away the workshop ladder for you. “What can you do for me this afternoon at least?” It was almost comical just how much he really needed you from time to time. If you couldn't fix his F-18, he’d be grounded till someone else could figure it out.

“I can pick the feathers from the engine bay and clean out your intake but even that’s gonna take me like two, two and a half hours considering you missed your last service.” You said it with the deadest of deadpans you could give the blonde who had taxied into your workshop just as you were getting ready to shut up shop for the day. The old hangar had been turned into a workshop for the F-18’s on site in Miramar. “I might even be able to fix the combustion chamber—but I’ll need you to pick up Odette from after school care.”

“Yeah, I can't do that either–” Jake knew what would happen next, it had happened too many times for him to not be able to expect it. An open hand came his way, but he grabbed your wrist with just enough time to spare before it connected with his chest. “I have a date! I can't!”

“Then I can’t fix your dumb plane!” You counted as you ripped your wrist from Jake's grasp. “I have to pick my daughter up, Hangman– I can't just leave her there!”

“Bradshaw can pick her up!” It was a suggestion you couldn't even believe Jake was submitting into the conversation. “He’d be so down for that.”

“I am not asking Rooster to pick my daughter up from daycare.” You were quick to dismiss the idea from whatever reality Jake was trying to conjure up. He knew you and Bradley had a thing. Everyone did. But he also knew you were too stubborn for your own good. “Don't do this to me, Jake it's not fair, you know better than anyone Dot gets attached to people and if I–”

“If you let Bradshaw pick her up just this once.'' Jake reached out to hold your shoulders tenderly, shaking you gently as he smirked in front of your face. He knew exactly what he was doing. “The world will not stop spinning Fe.” Jake stood there for a moment with his hands still on your shoulders before he let go. Sauntering over to your workshop desk in search of your phone. He’d known for a while now just how down bad Rooster really was for you and if anyone was good enough for you it was Bradley ‘family means everything to me’ Bradshaw. “Call him, just see what he says.”

“What if he's got plans?” Jake caught the sudden nervousness coming through in your questioning before you had even noticed your exterior had changed. Dropping the independent single parent act you tried your best to display more often than not. But even you had to admit from time to time it took a village to raise a child, and you were certainly no tribe of your own. “What if he just doesn't want to?” Jake just raised a brow in response. See, it wasn’t that you didn't want to ask, it was that you were afraid of the answer.

With Jake it was a given–he had been there since the day Dot was born. He was her uncle, her godfather, her babysitter and best friend. Rooster? Well, he didn't sign up to be a father to another man's child just because he thought you were cute. You didn't want to push that narrative on him either.

“If Bradshaw generally can't, I will call and cancel my date.” Jake held your phone out to you, watching as you took it with hesitation and reluctancy. “But you have to call and ask him first.” If looks could kill Jake Seresin would be a dead man. He’d backed you into a corner you couldn't get out of. But for all it was worth, he watched as you unlocked your phone, stepping away as you held the phone up to your ear, biting your bottom lip as not one, not two, but three rings rang out against your eardrum before.

“Hey Fe, what's going on?” Oh if you could physically melt into a puddle at the sound of someone's voice, Badley would have that effect on you. Jake swore he saw your eyes light up as you turned to face him again. Only now instead of your lip you were chewing on the cuticles of your nails. Pacing back and forth like a madwoman.

“Hey Roos I uh, I need a favour–but please feel free to say no, I can always have Hangman–” Before you could finish your sentence Rooster was smirking as he packed his things away into his locker. Holding his phone between his shoulder and ear.

“Whatever you need.” Rooster let his gaze linger on the photo of you he had in his locker. Just a candid picture he'd taken of you working on something in your workshop. Mirimars resistance technician. “I'm just about to have a shower, but after that I'm free.” You usually would have made a comment about if there was any room in that shower for you, but with Jake still standing right in front of you waiting for you to ask the all important question, you didn't feel like now would be an appropriate time for you to stroke Bradleys ego. “Y/n you there?” Fuck. He said your name, your actual name. You only ever really heard mum or Fe these days. But Bradley, saying your name? Always got you far too good.

“Uh, yeah no no I'm here–I uh, I was just wondering if you'd be able to pick Dot up from daycare this afternoon?” The silence they came through from the other end of the line was deafening and for a moment you thought you'd crossed a line. “Rooster you can say no–”

“No, no ill uh, I’ll grab her.” Why would he ever say no? “I just wasn't expecting that to be the favour.”

“Yeah well, Hangman just taxied into my workshop after a bird strike, gonna try to get him up in the air again so he’ll stop pestering me.” You explained as you sent Jake a look—he had been lucky on two fronts this afternoon. You heard Roosters locker shut before he replied.

“He alright?” You caught the slight tone of concern flooding through the phone.

“Despite his best efforts, I think he’ll live.” You mumbled under your breath as Jake stood gloating. He knew Bradshaw would be down for a date with Dot. “Are you sure you’re okay to pick Odette up?”

“Consider it sorted.” Rooster still held his phone between his shoulder and his ear as he unbuttoned his flight suit. The warm water from the head of the shower could be heard through the phone as you imagined him standing before you. Exposed. “Besides, it gives me an in with the hot mum I’ve been trying to seduce for the past few months.” Rooster teased.

“Oh I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.” You and Bradley Bradshaw had been in this situationship for a few months now. He’d flirt with you, you’d flirt back—but everytime you thought things were getting a little too much, you’d pump the breaks. Rooster knew why, he didn’t mind waiting. In fact he quite enjoyed the game of cat and mouse, convinced wholeheartedly that with enough persistence and sheer determination he’d win you and subsequently your daughter over too. “I’ll come by yours the second I’m finished here?”

“Yeah cool, I’ll uh, I’ll see you then.”

“Thanks Bradley.” You cooed, a bashful smile gleaming across your face as you turned on your heels. “I really appreciate it.”

“It’s not a problem, honestly—anytime.” Rooster smiled to himself before he said his goodbyes. Sighing as he let his shoulders relax under the warm water with every intention of making sure his first little not so ‘daddy daughter date’ with your daughter would go as seamlessly as ever. Hanging up the phone Jake was quick to say he told you so.

“Told you he’d froth that shit up.”

“You are unbelievable, you know that?” You huffed as you dialled your daughter's day care. “I hope your date stands you up.”

“Oh I don’t have a date—“ You were about to lunge at his throat, claw deep enough so that his life would flash before his eyes. But as always, some divine intervention saved Jake Seresins life.

“Hello Sunny Side—“ The woman answered the phone.

“Hi, my names Y/n Y/l/n and I’d like to make an amendment to my daughter’s registered list of persons for pick up please?” You waited a few moments as the line went silent, only the sound of a computer keyboard being tapped away at filled the void.

“Who would you like to nominate?”

“Uh, his name is Bradley, Bradley Bradshaw.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

[empress-simps]

Danger Meter [2]

》Crash《

▪︎Pairings: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader

▪︎Pronouns: She/Her (Fem! Reader)

▪︎Warnings: Language, also probably some inaccuracies

▪︎Genre: Soulmate Au! Angst and fluff

▪︎Synopsis: Your soulmate rarely seems to be out of the High risk zone according to your mark, which makes you worry. Oh well— you already know that the same goes for him.

Note: Thank you for the likes/reblogs/comment! I couldn't help myself so here is part 2!

》 Masterlist 》 Bradley's Masterlist

》 Previous 》 Next

"Crash watch yourself, there's a-"

It was probably your fault, you were to pre-occupied thinking about what happened last night that you processed Hangman's warnings a little too late.

"Shit! Birdstrike! Birdstrike!" You yelled, looking at your controls. "Left engine is on fire! Climbing!" Hangman looks at you, growing worried about you by the second. "Don't tell me she's gonna try to fucking save it." He mumbled, keeping a close eye on you.

You'd try to save the plane even though you're literally about to nosedive into the ground. Hence the callsign 'Crash'.

"Throttling back! Shutting off fuel on left engine, extinguishing fire!" You informed Maverick and Hangman. Maverick can only utter an 'Oh my god' while Hangman could do nothing but watch worriedly.

Bob felt like someone dumped an ice bucket on him as he and his fellow naval aviators listened to the radio to know what's happening on air. His insides were twisting as he wanted to do nothing but to hurl and cry.

Everyone semmed to still as they continued to listen to the radio. "Bird strike..?" Payback mumbled.

"I think I'm going to be sick." Bob uttered, he can feel his head spinning and his hands get sweaty. Pheonix shot a worried glance at him.

Rooster, who was sitting in one of the chairs looked at Bob. "Crash's your girl, Bob?" He tried to read Bob's expression. Coyote intervened, "I think now is not the right time for you to be asking that, man."

Roster nodded as he muttered out an apology to the Weapons System Officer who was intently listening to the radio. As Rooster further observe Bob, he realized two things: Bob deeply cares for you, which makes him think you know each other personally, or you're both romantically involved. And the other one is-

He sure hopes that you and Bob aren't a thing.

Rooster was pulled away from his thoughts, hearing your voice on the radio. He felt a pit forming on his stomach as you yelled, 'Right engine is out! It's still spinning-"

'Crash! You can't save it!' Hangman's voice was heard through the radio. All of them perked up, they never heard Hangman scared before. Not even once, and the fact that he was worried for another person— considering he's Hangman, he'll leave you out to dry.

Rooster's worry grew by the second for his fellow pilot. He ran his hand through his hair, an action Coyote noticed, and without fail he saw something he thinks that's hard to believe.

Rooster's mark was an angry shade of dark red.

Coyote was stunned, his eyes widening as he tried to process his thoughts over yours, hangman's and maverick's shouting over the radio.

"No fucking way.." He breathed out, aviators beside him thought he was talking about what's happening over the radio. Boy were they wrong.

'I can't control it! I'm going down! I'm going down!' Panic and terror laced in your voice, Rooster can feel his chest tightening as he looked down and laced his hands together, finally noticing something wrong with his mark.

The stripe was almost black.

It can't be, what's happening? He looked at it, and looked back to the radio. His head was racing different thoughts per minute. He felt his breathing got labored as he tries to calm himself.

"No.. no.." Bob mumbled, clearly distraught as Pheonix offered a comforting squeeze on his shoulder.

Right, you and Bob are probably soulmates. He needs to put that into consideration, maybe it's just a coincidence? But, having your soulmate's danger meter almost turn black is rare. He read about a study that found out people who's soulmates have a high risk job (i.e being in the military) are reported to be the one experiencing red and black marks.

You— a naval aviator who's about to crash, and him, who's mark is almost black.

'You can't save it! Eject eject!' They heard Maverick yell as Hangman told the same thing. 'Crash! don't you dare join your jet crash!'

'Eject eject eject!'

Taglist [Closed]: @auszimbo

[wild-lavender-rose]

Top Gun Masterlist

- One-shots -

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw

Riot

Riot (part 2)

Riot (part 3)

Unspoken Code

- Would Include -

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw

Bradley reacting to you having a bad day would include...

- Misquotes -

Robert “Bob” Floyd

#1- Beginner’s Luck

- Drabbles -

Pete “Maverick” Mitchell

#1- You’re sick

#2- Grief

#3- Pilot Voodoo

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw

#1- Fever

Jake “Hangman” Seresin

#1- Walk Towards Me

#2- Saving Your Life

#3- Breathe 

Robert “Bob” Floyd

#1- Let me take a look at that

#2- Pregnant

Fanfic Masterlist

[kloofspeaks]

Top Wave | A Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw Fictional Work

Words: 3044

Sneakpeek: She was holding onto too tight, she was holding onto her father’s spirit like a crutch, no one could stop her from grabbing her board and placing it upon the rushing waves and jumping onto the deck doing what she was made to do. 

She was made to surf.

Chapter Four Out of Ten

Chapter List : here

Inspiration - Artwork by MustaseKittens

(Tags: @callmemana, @notyoursbutlewis, @bayisdying, @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy)

The soft dings of cups clanking, Y/N was leaning against the warm counter of her cubby that sat in the corner. She figured tonight wasn’t going to be hard, especially with it being packed, not most surfers came in to ask for something huge. She was still pondering on the subject about the night at the Bradshaw’s. She hadn’t lost the loosening feeling of the chains that were invisibly wrapped around her wrist, she couldn’t describe the crack in between them and the promise she gave to her wishing father. 

She could remember the feeling of his hands, they felt a lot like Bradley’s in a sense, rough and worked, yet smooth. Her eyes floundered around the designed space of the bar, the collection of empty cups and people that were crowded at certain tables. She saw it as her highschool days, everyone had someone, everyone but herself. She hadn’t spotted Goose since the night she spent having dinner with his lovely family. 

Bradley didn’t let go of her hand till they went to dinner, his warm and tight grip, Carole never questioned on what took them so long, what could’ve possibly delayed dinner. She figured the spooked and ghostly looks they all gave her was enough said, Carole wasn’t one to pry much like Goose, she was quite spirited, very wise and kind. She could imagine how well her mother would’ve gotten along with Carole, they were very much alike in a sense. 

The night went on like normal, she enjoyed the dinner, watched a small movie with Bradley and said her farewells before heading out for the shift she had at The Hard Deck that night and now she was leaning against her counter fighting the feeling that had formed last night from her and Goose’s small chat about her father. The feeling of broken chains, the feeling of the promise she made slipping from her fingertips, her red and hot finger tips. 

Her cheeks were brushed with a rough red, her hand kept pulsing into a fist everytime she brought it back to her attention, she was too focused on this broken feeling as if something was missing, or something was trying to tell her something. She knew Goose and Bradley had mentioned surfing, Goose had tried to get her to step back into surfing on multiple accounts, but she had said it pretty simply, she was a waterboarded seal. 

She was stuck on the land with no way out, she was grasping for help out of a promise that couldn’t ever be broken even with the right words, the right touch. She was stuck behind the bars of her cubby, the one where the bars were completely invisible except to her and her toil. Goose couldn’t ever see the same bars that taunted her each day, the same bars that somehow had a shadow in her dull and broken eyes. She looked out the glass windows that looked straight out to the folding blue waters. 

She wasn’t longing, she could feel herself reaching out for those folding and graceful looking waves, she breathed out slightly looking back at her board. She couldn’t break the promise, she couldn’t bring herself to let her father’s wishes wash away like chalk in the rain, the same chalk her father used in the summer. Y/N couldn’t ponder from behind her cubby, the one that played music ever so often, the song My Girl by The Temptations was playing on her old static radio, the one that couldn’t handle the volume once it got to a certain volume. 

She was holding onto too tight, she was holding onto her father’s spirit like a crutch, no one could stop her from grabbing her board and placing it upon the rushing waves and jumping onto the deck doing what she was made to do. 

She was made to surf.

She was made to be able to walk out to the water without lasting guilt on the tip of her tongue, her eyes found their way back to her board, the one with the surfsign Destiny. It was in bright blue letters, the color her father chose for her as a child. The one she had no say in, the destiny her father wanted for her was written on that board, the one she made as a child with the help of her father’s grown hands, his rough and solid hands. 

The ones that lifted her off the ground as she giggled, the destiny he formed with his own hands. This wasn’t her destiny, it was her father’s, his wish for that destiny was to not surf, he was the one who lived that destiny, the one she was put into when she was young and never had another word. She slowly walked over to the hanging board on the rack, the one that had built up so much dust and compliments it irked her. Her gentle fingers brushing over the words once again, before she peeled off the surfsign, this wasn’t her destiny, it was her father’s.

The one that was buried and asked one last wish of his daughter, the one that now stood in her cubby pulling away at the surfsign everyone once called her, she didn’t hate her father, this wasn’t a way of rejecting his path for her, it was her way of starting a new, “What are you doing?” her gaze was distracted by a stranded Goose, he stood there holding a glass full of beer, she hadn’t seen him since the night she spent at his house. 

“Starting over,” She answered confidently, she had the music on a low volume for once, “I want a new surfsign,” She was raw with her words, there was no emotion behind her broken tone. 

There was no more crack between the chains and her father’s promise, there were no chains to begin with, they were just walls that she used to cover for her fear, her fear of letting her father down, “But you don’t surf,” Goose took a fine, rushed sip of beer before placing it on the counter and just staring at her.

“That’s what the old me used to say,” She wanted to add on ‘And what my father’s Destiny would’ve said,’ but she decided against it, letting the song Kyrie take over the sound that came from the cubby every night. 

“Are you telling me you’re going to surf?” Goose had an expression she had never seen on his face, she could read it off as slight confusion, the other seemed to be astonished, perhaps even a little bit shocked.

“I’m not waterboarded,” She reminded him of what he said two nights before, the night where he started prying at her old wounds, the night where she was mere-seconds from throwing her father’s old beat-up radio at that messy stache of his. 

“Is that a yes?” Goose asked, he was being cautious, he didn’t want to upset her, but he could tell that the chat they had in Bradley’s room just last night seemed to open her eyes on a lot of things.

“Is Bradley here?” She didn’t give him a clear answer, instead she had wiped her board clean of her surfsign, the one that had been with her since childhood, the one she would have people call her instead of her actual name, the destiny that wasn’t even her own, her false destiny. 

“He’s out by the sand, why?” Goose was growing worried, the sudden mood swing, the rejectment of her wanting to touch or even speak about her board with him, to removing her old surfsign and asking for Bradley’s own appearance, to him it sounded like she was asking him if Bradley could teach her how to surf again, especially since she knew she couldn’t stand on the slippery deck of her badly needed waxed board without some assistance. 

“I’ll have to talk to him later,” She claimed, throwing the shreds of the sticker into the garbage can beside where she normally stood, “I just have a question for him.”

“Can I ask what that question is?” He was responded with a silent shake of her head while the song she was playing looped once more, he was used to the constant looping that her radio always did, the radio that was breaking down after each song, she was holding a confident conversation with Goose with the music not being the max level, the level where it got static with the bass of the song everytime it reached a certain pitch. 

“You’ll just have to wait,” She answered, her eyes watching the clock, she was off early due to her still packing and Penny being so relaxed about her certain struggles, the moment the clock hit her free state she was leaving to think, to plan, to fix her mistakes that had gone over the years she held herself back. 

Goose was at a loss of words, Y/N had never been like this, he was used to the relaxed, oddly tense, red faced Y/N that came into The Hard Deck playing her father’s old tunes, the way her expressions used to change when he brought up surfing, the one thing she longed for, the one thing she would beg for if she could, the one thing she promised she wouldn’t do to her weakened father. The one Goose used to surf with on the weekends when Maverick wasn’t around, the man that showed Goose a couple new tricks before disappearing from their weekly bonds, from letting Goose fall apart like his own daughter that stood in front of him. 

He could tell something was on her mind, something that he couldn’t understand in his own logic. He was still stuck on the lone thought of why she was trying to remove the memories she had with her father, the one that gave her surfsign. He couldn’t quite put his finger in the right spot, the spot that explained why she was acting so differently from the peaceful night before. The night where she refused Goose of her surfing once more. 

He had seen her longing looks, the looks that Penny mentioned everytime he would mosey over towards her lonely corner. The complaints that came from her beloved friend, the one that complained about her poor excuse of a smile because she was clearly facing something beyond Penny’s understanding, Goose hadn’t ever been in the place where his parents left him behind, they wouldn’t ever leave him alone even if he asked for some sort of space. Y/N didn’t need to ask for that space though, she was sitting there pondering, her perch hadn’t stricken her face, the iconic lift of her brow, the look she would give him when she felt judged. 

He didn’t know how her father would feel if he stepped inside The Hard Deck only to find his one and only daughter peeling away at the surfsign he had gifted her. He could see the look, the look of freedom in her eyes. Was she doing it because she felt like it was a burden?  It was the thoughts that crossed Goose’s mind as he stepped towards her cozy corner, the one where he had taught her to wax boards and sing loudly without fear of judgment. The one where he spilled the information of his own son like fresh salt. 

The Y/N that stood before him wasn’t the Y/N that spoke to him weakly about her father and what he knew about him the day before, the brisk glance she gave him saying farewell as she stepped out of the door. He hadn’t noticed the falter, the shift in her emotions, the shift in the promise that vomited from her father’s dying breath. He didn’t understand, he didn’t get it, she wasn’t like Bradley, she wasn’t like his son where he could read the expression and thought on his face. 

He used to tell her she thought out loud a lot, the look that would scrunch up at the sight of the water or a simple surfer that came asking for some wax, something small. He thought a lot about the look that Bradley got when the hit from his board accidentally shifted her song, the song that kept her in focus and conversation. Not even the song that was smoothly chiming seemed to be keeping her focus, her eyes floundered, they glanced, they were watching, looking for something. 

He remembered how she used to stare at the door when she would fall off conversation, the glance she would give in disappointment. She was looking for someone. Goose knew people could change, they could change drastically, but from going from the days before to suddenly wanting to surf again made Goose’s mind wonder, scramble itself thinking. Why would she want to start something her father swiftly asked her not to do, that is unless those chains of guilt were broken. 

Goose had felt those chains, he felt those chains the moment he became waterboarded. The moment he became a beached whale and stopped Maverick from reaching his dream, the feeling of guilt eating alive at the only skin they possibly had left. He could say it was worse than survivor’s guilt, but he had thankfully never had to live through that guilt to say it was worse. 

Goose could say she was fading, becoming more a character than he had ever seen. The character he was introduced to was a shallow and heartbroken sailor. The ones that would swoon over their mistakes like children. Now, the woman that stood in front of him was changed, he didn’t know if it was a good or bad sign. He saw this coming, he saw the change in her the moment Bradley handed her the photo of Marshall, the photo that would quite literally rock her world to bits. 

She probably thought of why Marshall never brought Goose up, why she had never asked him of her father, he thought maybe she was too afraid to ask a stranger that surfed during her father’s golden age of him. The thoughts of failure, regret, toil, and forsaken energy had been standing there in Goose’s world, taunting him for his mistake of not finding Y/N sooner, not thinking that his disappearance would mean death in most sense. 

“You’re thinking out loud, Goose,” Y/N looked at him, she was giving him the look he usually gave her when she pondered too fearfully, “I know,” he gave the brisk answer of what she spilled to him on the night she met Bradley. 

“You thought so long, my shift is over,” She had a small snort, she knew she could think like Goose, she had done it tons of times, it made her crack a small smile on how much Goose had picked up on her fragile habits. 

“That’s a short shift,” She felt like it was the night she met Bradley all over again, the mention of the short shift, her having to explain the moving process to his old brain all over aga- “I’ll see you tomorrow, won’t I?”

“You don’t come on..” her words dragged off her tongue as Goose answered swiftly and calmly, “If you’re asking Bradley what I think you’re asking, I’ll be here tomorrow, no doubt.” 

Goose had figured her out, he knew she was going to ask him to help her regain her surfing knowledge, she breathed out slowly looking at the look he had stained on his face. She was shocked to know it wasn’t some form of disappointment, but a reassuring soft look in his eyes. The eyes that were the only ones that would glance her way when he wasn’t even looking for surfing supplies. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow then,” she answered, she still wasn’t going to confirm nor deny his questioning, the way he was going to figure out what she was thinking, he hummed in response as she gathered her things.

“I don’t think Bradley knows how to teach people how to surf,” Goose looked at her sharply, her eyes going wide at his statement, she knew it was a bold guess coming from his tongue. 

“We can just try, I don’t see any issue with trying,” She still wasn’t confirming nor denying, she was just answering, “What if we plan for a different day?” She asked Goose, her eyes pondering over him just so she didn’t have to look him in the eyes. 

“I’ll still be there, duckling.”

She knew Goose wouldn’t let up, first the night with the constant asking, and now she knew he figured out what she was thinking of doing, why she asked for Bradley specifically, she wanted someone from the Top Wave Academy to teach her the tricks without having gone to the academy, “Why don’t you want to ask Maverick?”

She knew Maverick was an instructor there, he was the person that probably taught Bradley everything he knew since his father’s accident, but she didn’t trust him that way. She trusted Bradley more than anyone that stood in her small circle of trustee’s. She knew Goose would’ve been up to help her the moment she asked, but she didn’t want to open an old wound of his while hers were just now growing fresh skin. 

Bradley seemed like the calmer option, she figured he would be really confused on her question, the question to all questions, but she felt safe around him. Bradley was her music. 

A music she couldn’t quite describe with simple words, it was thousands of songs into one person. That’s what she saw in Bradley Bradshaw, a tune that came off a single touch and went through her body like static, she wouldn’t ever forget the oddly familiar tune. 

She popped open her phone to the contact labeled Rooster when she had finally stepped out of The Hard Deck, her grasp tight and uncomfortable as she wrote the message. She could see him out by the sand so she knew he wouldn’t see such a text in a while. She typed out her question, the question Goose had guessed just earlier,

‘Will you teach me how to surf?’

[waklman]

i held my breath the entire time. let’s get into this..

Had to run for work. Thanks for having me over. A messy heart and a hastily scrawled Bradley closing off the message. 

KILL ME. THE NOTE.

The way you two fall into your bed is too natural, it makes your stomach churn. His fingers find their place on your hips, around your thighs. It’s all too easy

the way you’re building the angst is so!!!! i cant!!! this so beautifully written

Every time he’s between your legs, he has this reverent look on his face, and it makes your chest twist at the fact that this time is no different.

urghdhdudh i’m gonna chew on a block of cement until my teeth break off i feel rabid.

“The hearts. That’s how I,” He heaves a shuddering breath, his voice thick with unshed tears, “That’s how I told my parents I loved them before I could really write. I was saying it to you every time I left.”

and here is when the tilly tears came flowing down IM WEAK!!!!

You’re crying, you realize. And he’s kissing the tears away like it’s the most natural thing in the world, pressing his forehead to yours as his lips keep forming the words.

sushi this is so oh my gosh :( i just love this it’s so sweet? intimate? pretty?

okay genuinely, i love all your work so much, really but this has to be a personal favorite i loved literally every part of this i am so enamored!!! and i need a bradley bradshaw right now!!!! or i will combust. i love this i love this i cant say it enough

new rules

summary: "Don’t pick up the phone, he’s only calling because he’s drunk and alone. Don’t let him in, you’ll have to kick him out again. Don’t be his friend, you know he’s going to wake up in your bed in the morning. If you’re under him, you’re sure as hell not getting over him."  rating: explicit (18+ mdni) pairing: bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x f!reader word count: 8.5k (this got away from me sorry y'all) warnings: angst (lack of communication!), idiots pining, PiV (unprotected), oral (f receiving), hangman x phoenix (blink and u will miss it), no use of y/n.  notes: thank you to @waklman for letting me bounce ideas off you! im very nervous abt this one, i feel like its dif from my other stuff so pls pls let me know what u think! my other works are here

Friends with benefits is maybe an inaccurate way to describe what’s going on between you and Bradley. Friends? Sure, since he asked you if you were using that bench at the beach and then he’d introduced himself. With benefits? You’re not sure if they really could be classified that way.

Bradley’s almost always a perfect gentleman. 

He doesn’t ignore you in the daylight, but the two of you never talk about the way he finds himself in your bed most nights rather than not, drunk or sober. 

It had started one night when you’d turned down an invitation to go to the Hard Deck, instead choosing to do a night of self care. You’d spent too long doing your eyebrows and managed to get a sheet mask to fully cover your face for once. You lost count of how much time you spent in the shower as an indulgence, and threw on the comfiest clothing you owned. Then, you sat yourself down in front of your TV to numb your mind with some perfectly trashy reality television.

Around 11:30, your phone had rang. Picking it up and squinting at the brightness, you saw Bradley’s face grinning back at you, the picture from one of your many beach days since you’d met. 

Despite your best instincts you’d picked up. What if he was stranded? What if something had happened? You’d steeled yourself for the worst. 

Instead, Bradley had just opened with a simple, “Hey.”

“Bradley? Is everything okay?” You could hear the noise of the Hard Deck in the background, but it had been yelling and there weren’t any sirens. 

“Yeah,” His sigh had come over extra loud through the speakers, “Just uh, was just thinking about you.”

“Okay,” What the hell? You remember mouthing the words to yourself as someone on screen had thrown a drink in someone else’s face. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

He hadn’t responded to your question, instead he’d just said, “Are you at your apartment?”

“Yeah, I’m here. Bradley is everything–”

“I’ll see you soon.” And with that, he’d hung up with a definitive click. 

You’d stared at the dimming screen of your phone for probably almost five minutes. Surely he couldn’t have been that drunk–god, was he planning on driving? Calling him during that was probably a bad idea.

Great, leave it to Bradley to stress you the fuck out on a Friday evening when you’d been aiming for peace. You’d tried to refocus on your show, but you weren’t even paying attention to the words. 

No more than five minutes later, there had been a knock at your door. You’d stood slowly, not sure that this was actually happening. 

You’d opened the door to a Bradley with flushed cheeks and a glint in his eye, leaning against the railing outside your apartment. It was only after a moment of silence that you realized you were wearing an old Navy shirt of his, loaned to you at the beach a few weeks ago. You could feel the way his eyes started at your legs and dragged up your frame, taking everything in.

“Bradley?”

He’d pushed off the railing and backed you into your apartment, letting the door swing shut behind the two of you. You’d backed into the living room til your back hit a wall, your heart in your throat. You couldn’t look away from him, not with the way he’d been crowding into your space, leaning into you.

“Hi, sweetheart.” His voice was a tone he’d never used on you before, and you remember the way your heart had hammered in your chest. 

He’d been so warm and so close, setting all of your nerve endings on fire. It wasn’t that you hadn’t realized that Bradley was attractive–the man’s whole job was to stay in shape and be clean cut. He was beautiful. But you’d kept that to yourself, afraid of crossing that line, afraid that you’d ruin something that was turning out to be one of the strongest friendships you’d had in years. 

You still feel that fear, despite all the lines that have been crossed since that moment.

The way he’d kissed you had wiped every thought from your head. His hands had slid up your thighs to grip at your waist under his shirt hanging loosely on you. His mouth had moved smoothly against yours, making you sigh and wrap your arms around his shoulders. 

By the time the two of you had made your way into your bedroom, he’d lost every piece of clothing but his briefs and his dog tags. They’d dug into your sternum as you’d pressed yourself against him, the cool metal warming quickly between the two of you. 

The way your blood had been rushing in your ears from adrenaline had drowned out the way he’d murmured to himself as he’d kissed down your body. He never did pull his shirt off you. He’d simply maintained his grip on your hips, lifting your thighs over his shoulders as he’d pulled your panties down and licked desperately into you.

Your hands had gone to his hair out of reflex. He had been rocking you steadily and you think you’ll always remember how you felt when you’d realized it was because he was grinding his hips against the bedframe, so turned on from getting his mouth on you. 

He’d eaten you out like a man starved, his nose bumping into your clit as his tongue fucked you. It had been messy and loud but you hadn’t cared about the neighbors or your dignity, not with the way his fingers had finally curled into you. 

“Bradley,” You’d gasped when you finally came, back arching and fingers tightening in his hair to the point where your knuckles ached.

He’d held you through it, had let you rock your hips against his face and not complained at all. In fact, he’d seemed delighted by the way you’d let yourself just feel, pleasure wracking your body and consuming your mind in a haze.

Kissing his way up your body, he’d slid his hands under the shirt and groped you gently. You remember the way your mind had stayed cloudy and you’d floated, tethered only to the real world by the way his thumbs flicked gently at your nipples.

“I’m here, I’m here,” He’d panted into your mouth as you whined when he’d sat back slightly to kick off his briefs and hitch your thighs over his waist, “I’ve got you.”

The first time Bradley had ever slid his cock into you, you knew you’d never be the same, that you’d never be able to go back. Not when he’d kept himself hovering over you just barely, propped up on his elbow, with his lips still brushing yours and his dog tags catching in the sheen of sweat along your sternum. Not when he rocked into you inch by inch, making the world around you blur into nothingness. 

You’d let yourself fall apart under him, let yourself sink into the mattress and just take whatever he was willing to give you. He’d fucked you deeper and more gently than anyone before–to this day, you’re not even sure you can classify it as ‘fucking’, that always felt too vulgar for the way he’d brushed his lips over your cheekbones and murmured sweet nothings. 

But saying Bradley had, and still does, made love to you means trying to find something from nothing, means discerning some sort of level of connection he’s never made clear. You’re not trying to break your own heart more than you already are.

In spite of that, you can’t forget the way he’d held you like you were precious, like you were everything to him. He’d cum inside you with a guttural moan, a punched out gasp at the way you’d clenched around him. It had made you realize that was all you’d ever wanted, Bradley warm around you and inside you, him making you feel complete in a way you hadn’t known you weren’t whole before. 

He’d been a perfect gentleman when you’d both come down, easing out of you so he could clean up. He’d massaged your thighs and hips where you were sure you would’ve been aching the next morning if he hadn’t, had apologized under his breath at the fingerprints now dotying your hips. He’d thumbed at the collar of the Navy shirt where it had stayed on your frame the entire time, looking pensive but never saying anything.

You’d woken up alone the next morning, a sticky note on the bedside table reading–Had to run for work. Thanks for having me over. A messy heart and a hastily scrawled Bradley closing off the message. 

And so it went. So it goes. 

During the day, you and Bradley are the paragon of good friendship–he’ll send you memes when he gets access to his phone in between flights and lessons, you’ll pick him up after work to go to the beach. The two of you don’t talk about it–because what is there to talk about? 

No words are ever exchanged about the way that Bradley clears out a drawer for you at his place, you just find a few of the things you’d left at his place in there one day. You never give back his Navy shirt, not when you find yourself wearing it more often than not. Nothing is said about how you start picking up his favorite flavors of ice cream and his preferred brand of coffee creamer, you just make a habit of throwing them into your cart when you go to the store.

And everything is fine. It really is. You disregard the side glances from Phoenix and Bob as they see you leave with Bradley on Friday and Saturday nights, you ignore the way Hangman wiggles his eyebrows at you when Bradley insists on paying for your drinks. Just friends, is all. Just friends.

They can make their assumptions, whisper while you’re out of ear shot, but they don’t see the quiet, comfortable domesticity that you and Bradley engage in when the two of you are alone. You go back to his after beach afternoons since it’s closer to your favorite spot, and the two of you will shower (separately) and make dinner together. Sometimes you’ll sleep over if you’re working remote the next day, sometimes you’ll go home.

On weekends, Bradley picks you up in the morning, trunk holding a cooler full of drinks and snacks, and you two will go to the beach again or go on a hike. Sometimes Phoenix or Bob or the whole crew will come along, sometimes they won’t. 

Just friends. And it’s fine.

Until everything isn’t fine. 

Bradley and you have been at this for a few months now, and you can feel yourself cracking. You’re reaching out to kiss him when you do wake up together, before your brain is awake enough to stop you, reminding you that that’s not what you two do. On an outing to a boardwalk teeming with life and populated by those games you can win stuffed animals at, you resist the urge to press him against the railing of the pier and lick the taste of your shared gelato cone out of his mouth. 

When the dam finally breaks, it begins like any other night. You have a margarita and a half in you, some concoction that Phoenix insisted you try that’s actually good. Bradley’s already done a rendition of My Way at Penny’s request, but for now the jukebox is blaring some 80s hit Hangman picked out.

You can feel yourself swaying to the beat, just letting the warmth of the moment sink in as you’re surrounded by your friends, the people you love. 

“Hi,” Bradley breathes into your ear as he sidles up next to you, his arms coming to settle around your waist. You can feel his warmth through the flimsy fabric of the dress you’ve got on.

“Hi Brad,” He hates it when people call him that–lets you get away with it though. “What’cha doin’?”

“Waitin’ for you.” He leans his entire body weight against you, making you slump against the table you’re standing next to.

“Ah! Bradley, stop it.” You try to stand, but the way he’s laughing makes it hard to shake yourself from his grip, “What do you mean you’re waiting for me? I’m waiting for you.”

The grin he shoots you is electric, and for a moment you think he’s going to kiss you, right here in the middle of the Hard Deck, with all your friends around and in Penny and Mav’s line of sight. That thought makes your heart skip a beat.

“Come home with me?” He whispers, just barely letting his voice rise above the background noise, and when you don’t respond immediately, “Or let me take you home?”

That’s all it takes, really, for you to agree. The way he’s so willing, so malleable, for you. You’re leading him out by the hand without responding to his questions, making your way to the Bronco that’s parked in the back corner of the lot. 

Bradley keeps the foolish grin on his face the entire time he drives back to your apartment. The warmth radiating from him doesn’t abate when he licks into your mouth once the two of you are inside. One of his palms rests against your heart, the other working its way up your thigh and inside your panties that are already damp. 

“You’re so good to me,” He murmurs, dipping his fingers below your waistband and brushing through your curls, feeling just how slick you are. 

All you can do is whine as he picks you up and makes his way to your bedroom. For once, he doesn’t trip or stub his toe on anything, and it somehow heightens the intensity. Normally, you and Bradley seek comedic relief of some sort, something to cut the tension and keep it from making your chest tighten in a way that feels like a warning. This time, you aren’t granted any such reprieve.

He undresses you slowly and deliberately, letting his fingertips drag lightly up your sides and over your shoulders. He shrugs his Hawaiian shirt off easily, and lets you yank his wife beater over his head without complaint. 

Then, the two of you are just staring at each other, both panting lightly. You’re propped up on your elbows, staring up at him only in your panties. Bradley’s got one hand about to pop the button of his jeans, but he’s frozen. You feel like you can’t move but also like something might be changing. 

You don’t want it to change, you don’t want to lose Bradley in more ways than one. If this is what he’s willing to give you, you don’t want this to change. 

He nearly falls over when his foot gets stuck in his jeans, and even that doesn’t break the tension. Once he’s climbing over you, enveloping you, kissing up your stomach and neck, you forget all about decorum and keeping up appearances.

The whine that echoes around the room is pathetic and high pitched, but it’s the only way you think to communicate to Bradley how bad you need him in that moment. His hips are rocking gently against yours and you want the layers gone, you need to feel him. 

“I know, sweetheart, I know,” And his hands are around your hips, dragging your underwear off you unceremoniously. 

Although he makes a good attempt at going down on you, you don’t let him. You dig your fingers into his shoulder and yank at his hair to keep his face level with yours and kiss him desperately.

“I want to eat you out, please?” The depth of his voice sends a shiver through you.

Normally he wouldn’t even have to ask, but you don’t want that right now. You just want to feel him inside you. 

“Need you in me, please,” You take a heaving breath before the pleading spills out of you, “Pleasepleasepleaseplease–”

He shushes you as you scrunch your face up, not knowing how else to convey your desires in that moment, “Okay. I’ve got you, it’s okay.”

You almost wail in protest when his fingers slide into you. You can’t figure out why you feel like you’re burning up from the inside out, why you feel so fucking needy. 

“Sweetheart you gotta let me prep you somehow, just–” 

You feel like the embarrassment might kill you when you keen at the feeling of his fingers inside you. The way you’re trying to be good, you really are, because he does have a point. Plus, you have to be fair to Bradley, this isn’t just about you. 

So you hold still, let him work his fingers in and out of you as you pant and clutch at his shoulders like a lifeline. His mouth presses against yours, works its way over your cheeks and down your throat. He sucks a mark gently into your collarbone, and you ignore the way your brain reminds you about having to cover that up for work. 

He doesn’t shut up the entire time, just keeps telling you how good you’re doing for him, how good you feel, how he’s been thinking about this all night. The world seems to go right-side up again when he pushes into you. 

You whimper at the way he rocks his hips ever so gently before pulling out. He kisses you again and again, only letting his lips leave yours so he can kiss your forehead or cheeks. The motion of his hips is a steady tempo, he keeps time with your breaths that turn into moans when you start feeling that telltale coil in your stomach. 

He runs his tongue along your teeth and you’re done for. You clench down on him and dig your nails into his skin, bucking your hips up as your orgasm washes over you like a tidal wave. 

Bradley fucks you through it like every other time, yes, but this time there’s something about the way he stutters out a moan and his hips match the faltering rhythm as he finishes right after you. The shallow rocking of his hips continues and you try to ignore the prickling of tears at the corners of your eyes. 

Something tells you that this time, you shouldn’t have let Bradley take you home. When he pulls his face back from yours and he rolls the two of you onto your sides without pulling out, he’s got this look on his face that screams unspoken words. He cups your face and strokes your cheekbone with his thumb without saying anything. 

The two of you are quiet as he cleans you up, as you dress yourself in another one of his shirts.

When you wake up the next morning, Bradley isn’t there. It doesn’t shock you necessarily, sometimes he stays, sometimes he has to leave to be on time for work.

What does send a terrible feeling trickling down your throat and into your stomach is the post-it, all four square inches covered in sloppy hearts. Bradley had signed his name in the bottom left corner, characteristic chicken scratch labeling it as him even if the name wasn’t enough.

This has to end.

Don’t pick up the phone, he’s only calling because he’s drunk and alone.

You last about three rings before you cave in, waiting for the sound of his voice to echo around the apartment. You’re holding your breath.

“I knocked.” Is all he says before you’re on your feet, making your way to the door.

There he is, and although you know he isn’t really drunk, you know he’s got a beer or two in him from the way he doesn’t try to hide how he looks at you. You hate the way you’re weak for him.

You’ve been caving to him more than once a week since that first night, since Bradley had knocked your world off kilter. Though you’re in bed together almost every night, whether at his place or yours, you don’t have sex nearly every time. Part of you thinks that might make it worse. It really had been fine at first, but the first morning you’d cried at the sight of that sticky note covered in hearts, you’d known you had to try and put an end to this.

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” He tries, a crooked grin splitting his face as he walks toward you, but you know he doesn’t mean his words at all. 

“Bradshaw, have you been drinking?” You want to not want this, want to not want the way his gaze pins you down, the way the length of his body against yours just feel so right.

Let him being drunk and you being sober be the excuse, you beg silently. You can’t manage to force out that maybe he should go home, sleep this off in his own bed. You can’t find it in yourself to tell him to leave, to reject his advances. Watching as if outside your own body, he shuts the door behind him and walks up to you. 

Your chest aches with unconfessed feelings when he takes your face in his hands and lets his forehead rest against yours. His lips are soft and warm against yours, his mustache tickling you lightly when it brushes against your face. The whine you let out matches his soft groan, and the two of you stand there making out for a few minutes, almost as if you’re both content to just drink each other in without further motives. 

“I’ve got you sweetheart, I’ve got you,” And he’s picking you up.

You yelp at the way you’re suddenly lifted from the ground and you bury your face in his neck. You hate heights, your feet off the ground anything more than a few inches sends you spiraling in short order. But it’s Bradley who’s holding you, and some part of you knows he’d never let you fall, never let you crash into the ground. 

The way you two fall into your bed is too natural, it makes your stomach churn. His fingers find their place on your hips, around your thighs. It’s all too easy. You wish it would be a bit more awkward, that the chemistry could be imagined or false–instead you’re confronted by the way your bodies flow with one another’s all too easily. 

Again, somehow, you’re in nothing but his Navy shirt. 

Maybe I should give it back, the thought flits through your mind and you feel guilty immediately. Bradley always seems to take a special sort of pleasure from fucking you in his shirt, and you selfishly want to keep that bargaining chip, to have something that tethers him to you. If he won’t come back to press you into your sheets, then maybe he’ll come back one last time to get his shirt when this inevitably unravels. 

“Sweetheart,” He groans softly when his fingers reach the way you’re embarrassingly wet between your legs. 

It takes everything in you not to jerk back from his touch–you still don’t know how to confront the way you’re so responsive to his touch. His mere presence.

“I missed you.”

It slips out before you can stop yourself, your lips part and you breathe the words before you can do anything about it. He chooses that exact moment to dip a fingertip into your fluttering, but empty, hole, and you arch your back and moan. Instead of responding, he kisses you hungrily, all pretense gone. 

This isn’t something entirely tender, not anymore. He’s searching for something, a certain reaction, with the way he adds and then curls his fingers inside of you. He finds it when you jerk underneath him at the way he pets at that spot inside you you can never seem to reach on your own. 

He mumbles against your lips, “There you go,” As you squirm under him, the press of his fingers inside you relentless.

He works his fingers in and out of you, not taking anything in return. It’s all you can do to hold on to him and whine pitifully. Every sensation feels amplified, feels electric because it’s him. 

The two of you settle into a familiar rhythm for as long as it takes for Bradley to make you cum the first time. You’re rocking against him through the aftershocks and you can feel the way he’s hard against you through his clothes.

He’s still dressed. The realization sends a bolt of shame through you, but it doesn’t linger long. 

He’s shoving his jeans down his legs, not bothering with wiping his hand clean and you shiver at the thought that he’ll have to put them on again, you streaked across them. He makes quick work of his boxers too, and it occurs to you that he must’ve lost his shirt somewhere along the way when he presses his bare chest against your still clothed one.

“Bradley, Bradley,” You chant, “Take off my shirt.”

It’s the most demanding you’ve probably ever been with him, but he laughs at you anyways. There’s a glint in his eye as he sits up, his hard cock bobbing between his thighs. The sight of his naked form between your spread legs makes you swallow hard and your mouth water. 

“I like you in my shirt.” There’s something unsaid there, something about claims and ownership that isn’t truly possession, but a reminder of who belongs to whom regardless.

You pull it off your head in protest, and grab his wrist to drag him back down to you. You let yourself indulge in trailing a hand down the firm planes of his body down to where he’s smearing precum against your thigh. He’s heavy and pulsing in your hand and a light hiss rushes through his clenched teeth when you grip him tightly and twist with your wrist. 

“Fuck, fuck, not gonna last if you–” Bradley cuts himself off with a groan as you swipe your thumb over his head. 

It’s your turn to laugh, “You just got here.”

“Well, have you ever had sex with yourself? It’s tough out here–give a guy a break.”

The both of you dissolve into giggles at that, as you try to imagine how you would look sprawled under yourself. You can’t picture it, but the image of Bradley under or over you makes you think you might understand. 

He lines his hips up with yours once you’re both done making fools of yourself at the thought of you having sex with yourself (it reminds you of a drunk hypothetical you’d spent thirty minutes on with Hangman once–would you have sex with a clone of yourself?). 

The first push of him inside you cuts through the lighthearted mood immediately. It always shocks you how perfectly he fits inside you despite his size, how incredibly full you feel when his hips meet yours. The gentle friction of the neat curls at the base of his cock against your clit always provides a stimulation that makes your brain go fuzzy. 

The snap of his hips against yours is more intense this time, a sort of rhythm that makes you briefly think about the way the headboard might start knocking against the wall. But all thoughts, really, fly out of your head when Bradley brings a hand up to your nipples, the steady stroke of his fingers over the swell of your breasts as practiced and knowing as everything else he’s doing to you. 

All you can do is run your hands down his back, scratch your nails against his skin ever so often when he brushes against something so sweet and perfect inside you. You clench around him just to see the reaction it’ll get, and you’re rewarded with a broken groan.

“You’re not fighting fair,” He gasps, and he hitches one of your thighs up so he can press more insistently into you. 

You have a clever comeback somewhere in you–something about how you weren’t aware that the two of you were fighting, but it’s swallowed as he presses his lips into yours again. He seems absolutely intent on showing you exactly how you make him feel because the sensations of pleasure become overwhelming. 

“Fuck sweetheart, you feel perfect, god you’re so wet for me,” He’s rambling mindlessly, but you let it happen, clinging to any expression of emotion, any sliver of dedication in his tone that you can hold on to til the next time you find yourself in this position. 

You know he’s close when his grip on your thigh tightens forcefully and the strokes go from long and deep to slightly shorter and stunted. He’s grunting and gasping, but it’s all the best thing you’ve ever heard. 

“Come for me Bradley, I want to feel you,” And at that, he follows your orders, listens to you for once in his life. 

Everything is hazy as he keeps himself hovering over you and continues to rock his hips. You start to try and tell him he can pull out before his fingers find your clit and he dives back in to kiss you passionately. 

Bradley is a perfectionist at heart, an overachiever. You suppose it isn’t entirely ridiculous that that extends to his performance in the bedroom–he’s insistent you finish every time, and always more than him. Feeling the way he’s still warm and heavy inside you, his lips firm against yours, brings you over the edge more quickly than you’d like to admit. 

Still, you heave a shuddering gasp and let the pleasure wash over you. It’s overwhelming and all consuming, but he’s there through all of it til you feel yourself come back into your own body. 

You think he might be writing something on your skin, the way his finger loops and dips softly over your hip bone as he kisses you gently. He’s softening inside you and you can feel the mess the two of you made under your hips, except he isn’t moving, not yet at least, to rectify that situation. 

For once, you don’t push him to go clean up or scold him for another set of ruined sheets, you just let yourself bask in the moment as you imagine a world where the two of you will talk about this in the morning. You think of a timeline where this is where you end up because it’s where you’re meant to be, not because it’s something you’re choosing despite how it hurts you every time. You think of a place where Bradley is yours and you are his, wholly and completely.

Don’t let him in, you’ll have to kick him out again. 

“Didn’t you have a date tonight?” You breathe into his mouth.

Bradley just hums in response, brushing his lips over yours, down your jawline and your throat. His breath comes in warm puffs over your collarbones before he pulls back.

Hands pinned above your head, you squirm under his gaze. There’s something so intense about the way he’s looking at you, but you can’t bring yourself to squeeze your eyes shut to avoid it. Both of you lost your clothes somewhere on your way to the bedroom, and you’re thinking about how to persuade him to be the one to pick it all up when this is inevitably over. 

He smells like expensive cologne, and he’s got some product in his hair that made it difficult for you to brush your hands through it earlier. Plus, Phoenix had been dropping unsubtle hints earlier in the week (Hangman had affectionately called her out, a little sigh following— “You’re being such a shit stirrer.”)

“Bradley,” You try again, this time with a slight whine.

Did he seriously ditch some girl that’s probably been waiting on their date all week for this?

He responds by whispering your name back to you, the same tone undercutting the way he says it, “That doesn’t matter, I’m here now.”

The urge to keep complaining rises in you but he preempts your worries by licking into your mouth when you open it. 

He presses you into the mattress, weighing you down as he kisses you languidly, as if he’s trying to taste every part of you, as if he’s trying to memorize the sounds that escape you when he does. The warmth of his body makes your mind fog, and for the time being, everything else but this goes quiet. 

Distantly, you know that in the morning, he’ll have to leave. At the very least, he’ll have to go back to his to grab his stuff for the beach, a change of clothes. It isn’t kicking him out, but watching him leave again and again has started to build this pit at the bottom of your stomach. 

It would be different, you think, if the two of you were together. Because then, him leaving wouldn’t mean much where there would be an implicit promise and understanding that he was going to come back. Every time he closed the door behind him, you swallowed the fear that that would be your final memory of him. 

You’re selfish though. And you want to focus on the feeling of his touch instead of thinking about how you may never get to have this again. 

He makes it easy. Bradley pulls his shirt off and his dog tags make a gentle clinking sound as they hit each other and then finally come to rest on his chest. He looks like a god, backlit by the setting sun coming through your windows. 

This is how you want to remember him. Smiling down at you as he dives back in to kiss you breathless, twitching when you skim your fingertips up his sides because he’s ticklish. 

He makes short work of your shirt and sleep shorts, then his jeans are discarded. He stops briefly when his fingers reach the waistband of your underwear, a silent question that you answer by lifting your hips and letting him pull them off you. 

Every time he’s between your legs, he has this reverent look on his face, and it makes your chest twist at the fact that this time is no different. He holds your thighs open gently but firmly, and he presses his face into your pussy. Then, his tongue is darting out and licking up your core, flat and wide. 

You’d asked him once, if he likes going down on you. With a gleam in his eye, Bradley had said it was second only to being inside of you. You think of that as he eats you out enthusiastically, as you bury your hands in his hair and pull. 

He slides his tongue in and out of you, curls it around your clit and sucks in a way that makes your back arch and your thighs clenched around his head. Then, he’s slipping a finger inside and fucking you slowly with it. It makes you shiver as you realize how close you are. 

“Sweetheart, fuck, you taste incredible,” He murmurs, more to himself than anything else, pulling back briefly to make eye contact and you feel the way your breath quickens at the intensity of his gaze.

It only takes a few more minutes of him licking into you, tonguing at your clit, and adding another finger before you feel that familiar swooping in your stomach, before you’re choking out his name. Your back arches so much it aches, but it’s all you can do as the pleasure is all consuming. Bradley works you through it like every other time, holding you and letting you take what you need from him.

Then, he’s on you in an instant, kissing you furiously and sliding his hardness up and down you, covering himself in your slick. It’s filthy and sloppy but neither of you seem to mind. He lets himself rut against you til you’re hooking your legs around him and digging one of your heels into his back.

“Alright, alright,” He’s trying to sound nonchalant, but you know he’s more affected than his light tone lets on. 

The first push into you is always the most intense, but you suck in a deep breath that you force out through your teeth.

“I know, I know,” He croons, pressing little kisses all over your face as you adjust to him.

Bradley inches into you slowly, inch by inch. The initial stretch subsides til it’s replaced by the sweetest feeling of fullness, the way you can feel all of him. 

If there’s one thing the Navy’s good for, it’s the sheer strength Bradley possesses and has to maintain. You feel it in the way he fucks you, his back muscles rippling as you hold on for dear life. You feel it in the way his hips press into yours, shunting you slightly up the mattress.

For a while, the only sounds in the room are his hips meeting yours and the slick between the two of you. Momentarily, he pulls away from kissing you to look down to where he’s disappearing inside of you, that ring of you collecting at the base of his cock. His groan is guttural and broken. 

“Fuck, Bradley, it feels so good.”

He leans down again to kiss you sloppily, and the simple action of him burying a hand in your hair and twisting his wrist makes your heart skip a beat. He always knows exactly what you need when you need it. 

“C’mon, come for me, sweetheart, let me feel you.”

And because you’ve never been able to deny him anything, there you are, hurtling over the edge again. He’s everywhere around you, inside you, and his tongue in your mouth is the last thing you need to feel that wave crest inside of you. Bradley’s moan is deep as he feels you bare down on him and he follows you shortly after.

The moments after, when the glow is still settling and your mind is still hazy, are your favorite. Your mind is too foggy to focus on the fact that you know he’ll be leaving, but present enough to feel the way he doesn’t stop pressing kisses to your lips. You’re cognizant of how he cleans you up tenderly and presses his fingers into the skin of your thighs and hips just to watch it dimple. 

In those precious few minutes, that’s all that exists to you.

Don’t be his friend, you know he’s going to wake up in your bed in the morning. If you’re under him, you’re sure as hell not getting over him. 

You’re trying to ignore him, you really are. You start going to the beach an hour earlier than you usually do, hoping that he’s maintaining his schedule. Every tall brunette jogging across the sand sends your heart into overdrive. 

You still see Bradley when you go to the Hard Deck for a drink, but you keep a respectable distance between the two of you. If Phoenix mentions a round of pool, you jump at the chance, while asking Bob and Payback if they’d like to be the opposing team. You ignore the way your heart jumps into your throat when you can feel his eyes on you. 

Every note of Great Big Balls of Fire feels like a stab in the chest, and you hold back tears of frustration when you see some girl wrap her arms around his neck and rock along with him as he belts out the lyrics. You’re a fool. 

You’ve been ignoring his calls about Saturday morning beach runs and the memes he sends during the day go unanswered except for the little reactions iPhones let you send. You suppose it’s only fair that he gets to ignore you a little bit too.

Your little charade doesn’t last long, not truly in the grand scheme of things. Bradley doesn’t put up with you skirting his advances for long–he knows what he wants and he’ll be relentless til he gets it. And right now, he’s trying to corner you. 

And you’re weak for him. You should’ve known from the start that you wouldn’t be able to resist him. You can’t even now, even when you’re only getting him in pieces.

It’s not exactly your bravest moment to be hiding slightly behind Phoenix so he can’t see you (if you can’t see him, he can’t see you, right?) while she stares at you with an endlessly amused expression in her eyes. She doesn’t move to expose you, though.

“What’cha doin’?” Her tone is light, but you can tell she means business. 

The two of you are friends yes, but she’s known Bradley for a million times longer. There’s some girl-girl solidarity, but if you were in her shoes, you might have a few bones to pick about potentially throwing Bradley to the wolves on this one. You wonder for a moment if he’s been talking to her about all this, but again, is there even anything to talk about?

“Just uh, trying to see where Hangman’s at?” You sound like you’re asking her a question, and she quirks an eyebrow. 

She stretches the syllables of her next word out, letting it hang in the air, “Right. Even I don’t look at Hangman with that sort of intensity.”

That’s not entirely true, but you don’t really feel like getting into a competition with Phoenix of all people, over who’s looking at whom how. 

“Sweetheart? Can we talk?” 

You’d let Phoenix distract you for just a split second, and there he is, in all his glory. Bradley is beautiful, yes, but he looks tired. His sunny’s are hanging haphazardly from a floral button down that looks like it’s maybe seen better days, and he’s got dark circles marring the perfect tone of his tanned skin. 

This time, Phoenix just side-steps you and lets Bradley into your space. 

His presence is just as affecting there, in the middle of the Hard Deck, as it was the first time you saw him on the beach. Even with how tired he looks, he’s still glowing just slightly in the evening sun.

“Hi, Bradley,” You breathe, not daring to speak louder, as if that would make the moment real. 

You can feel Phoenix’s eyes on you, the way that Bob and Payback are starting to let their attention drift to from the game of pool. This, you don’t want anyone else to be witness to. This is something between just the two of you. You don’t really need the whole world to witness your imminent heartbreak. 

“I don’t want to do this here, is my place okay?” He looks so nervous, as if you’re going to push him away. It’s funny really, what you know is about to happen, and yet he still looks like this is about to break him entirely. 

Nodding, you let him lead you out of the bar. It feels like deja vu, how however many weeks ago you were tracing these exact steps but making your way towards a very different fate. 

The two of you are silent in the Bronco, and Bradley doesn’t bother turning the radio up to belt along to the 80s classic on the radio. Everything feels like you’re underwater, like the world is out of focus. You think you might start crying, but you try and swallow it down, be an adult. 

Pulling into the driveway, it’s silent in the car when he turns the engine off. Neither of you go to get out, but you know you can’t sit here forever. This had to happen at some point, had to come to a close. That doesn’t make getting out of the car and waiting for Bradley to unlock the door any easier, though. 

You toe off your shoes and let him get you a glass of water. Then, you’re standing on opposite sides of his kitchen, the pristine shine of the countertops and appliances making him feel a thousand miles away. You two are usually tumbling in, mouths locked together, or walking in with groceries, prepared to spend a comfortable evening cooking and watching a movie. This is everything coming apart at the seams. 

“Bradley,” You start, not really knowing where you’re going, but just wanting to break the silence.

He looks distraught and your stomach drops with guilt. 

This is your fault. 

He says your name once as he settles back against a countertop, and it hangs in the air between the two of you, til he starts speaking again, “I’ve been trying to figure out where I went wrong, what lines I crossed, and I guess at some point I realized it was all of them. I shouldn't have pushed you, I shouldn’t have–”

“I thought that that was all I could have of you, so I was selfish and I took it.” You say, the words tumbling out of you before you can stop yourself from interrupting him, but still unable to tear your eyes away from him, “But I was hurting you. I still am, and god, Bradley, I’ll make it up to you somehow, I’m so sorry.”

It’s almost funny, really, the way you’ll look back on this moment a year from now and laugh at the way the two of you are talking past each other, unwilling to acknowledge that your deepest desires could be attainable. But for now, all you can feel is the guilt in your veins, your heartbeat pounding your chest. 

“What?” He’d looked at the floor for a moment, but when you finish speaking he’s looking at you intently. “What did you say?”

Taking a deep breath, you steel yourself and start from the beginning, “I thought that you coming to me, like that, was the only way I could have you. And, and maybe it was me taking advantage because you were sometimes not super sober, but I would never–”

“I was always sober. Every time. I would never do that to you. What do you mean that was the only way you thought you could have me?” Bradley’s standing fully now, not leaning. 

“I thought you drank before, to, y’know, make it tolerable.” You regret the words as soon as you say them, “Sorry, that’s–you’re not that kind of person.”

He smiles ruefully, “I’m still focused on the part about that being the only way you could have me.”

Here it is. 

“I love you, Bradley. And not just as a friend, but more. But I didn’t want to push that on you, and so I thought–”

“You love me?”

A beat.

“Yes.”

Then, he’s laughing in that hysterical way when people are so overcome, the only way it’ll escape them is if they double over in giggles. But he’s trying to compose himself as quickly as he started. 

“I tried to tell you so many times how I felt, I left you all those post-it notes, god, I thought you were seeing them and just didn’t feel the same.”

“I-I don’t understand.”

“The hearts. That’s how I,” He heaves a shuddering breath, his voice thick with unshed tears, “That’s how I told my parents I loved them before I could really write. I was saying it to you every time I left.”

“You love me?” You’re crying now, and he squeezes his eyes shut til tears run down his cheeks too. 

His laugh is bitter but you know that’s not directed at you, “Was the sticky note covered in hearts not clear enough?”

You feel the way your cheeks warm and your stomach churns as you try and defend yourself, “You were thanking me for letting you sleep over?”

At that, he laughs, genuine this time, breaking the sadness that has been building in the air. Finally, he makes his way across the room to you and crowds into your space, wrapping you in his arms and pressing his forehead to yours. His eyes are closed. 

“Sweetheart.” It’s a warning, a plea, and a prayer all in one. “I meant every heart, every I love you, from the very first one I left.”

“I kept them all. In my bedside table.”

Then his lips are on yours. The kiss is salty, reminding you of all the emotion that’s been building for the past few months, every moment you didn’t confess, every moment you assumed the worst, it’s all there. But you don’t want to dwell on that now, now that you’ve heard him say something plucked from your wildest dreams.

“Say it again,” You whisper when his lips leave yours ever so briefly as the two of you are stumbling to the bedroom.

And he does. As he’s undressing you, he says it. He mumbles it against your lips and into your mouth. 

He says it against your bare skin as he presses you into his bed, the sheets smelling like him before he puts on cologne. It’s muffled momentarily by the way he takes one of your nipples into his mouth, but you feel the way his jaw works anyways as you cup his face. You let your legs fall open around him and feel the way he slides his fingers into you.

When he’s pressing into you, he’s saying it. I love you, I love you, I love you.

In those moments between start and finish, when the world falls away and all you know is the warmth of his body against yours, the slight slick of sweat on your skin, that’s when you think you realize that he means it. The motion of his hips is deep and insistent, as if to try and leave a permanent reminder that he was there. 

You’re crying, you realize. And he’s kissing the tears away like it’s the most natural thing in the world, pressing his forehead to yours as his lips keep forming the words. At some point, you’ve started saying them back to him too, choking them out despite everything so that you know that he knows that you love him.

When you finish, it feels like a supernova exploding inside of you. It starts in the center of your body and pushes its way to your fingertips til you’re gasping for air and he fucks you through it. Bradley cums moments later, filling you with his warmth in a way that’s both familiar and still thrilling. 

He rolls gently off you, and you hiss as he slips out. That’ll be a mess to clean up. 

But he’s looking at you, brushing your sweaty hair from your face, and his eyes are shining so brightly that it feels like looking at the sun. You want to look away, but you think that losing your vision in return for staring at the way his eyes crinkle in genuine happiness is well worth the price. 

I love you, he mouths. And you believe him. 

You whisper it back.

tagging: @sebsxphia @roosterbruiser @bradshawburner @gretagerwigsmuse @sometimesanalice @joaquinwhorres @roosterbruiser @roosterforme @bradshawsbitch @seresinsweetie @notroosterbradshaw @genius2050 @peachystenbrough @rhettabbotts - tagging ppl either by request or whom i feel like are horny for bradley soooo pls let me know if you'd like to be added/removed

[queenofwands89]

Quiet Affections

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Pilot!reader

Summary: After her friends tease her about Jake having a crush on her, Y/N reflects on certain memories that make her question whether there might be some truth to their playful jabs.

Warnings: Teasing, pining, Jake being a sweetheart, Y/N being oblivious, insults aimed at Y/N, protective Jake, mention and description of injury, anxiety, doubts, fluff.

Notes: Happy Friday, everyone! We made it! 🎉 I just hit 2,500 likes on here and wanted to thank each and every one of you who liked, reblogged, or commented on my works. It means the world to me. I’m down bad for Jake, and need him badly so I wrote this. Enjoy byeeee

You find yourself deep in the heart of the Hard Deck, the familiar hum of chatter and clinking glasses forming a comforting backdrop. Rooster, Natasha, Javy, Bob, Reuben, and Mickey are clustered around the pool table, laughter spilling freely as they take turns making shots and throwing jabs. Jake had just excused himself to go to the restroom, but not before brushing a lingering hand against your shoulder and whispering something that made you smile. This action set off a chain reaction of teasing directed at you.

"Y/N, you know Hangman’s got a huge crush on you, right?" Rooster's mustache twitches with a sly smile as he lines up for his shot.

You laugh it off, waving a hand dismissively. "Oh please, Bradley. Jake? No way. He's just... nice."

Rooster and Natasha exchange glances before Natasha cocks an eyebrow at you. "Nice? Hangman is many things, but nice isn't the first word I'd use. Unless he’s talking to you," she remarks, tapping her cue stick against her palm.

Bob, always the quiet observer, chimes in. "He's got a point though, Y/N. I've seen how he looks at you."

You can't help but roll your eyes. "I'm just completely unaware of it," you say, sarcasm dripping from your voice. "You guys are ridiculous."

Mickey grins, his boyish charm lighting up his face. "Maybe, but can you really deny the way he's always got your back?" he asks, leaning casually against the pool table.

Your first instinct is to rebut, but as their words settle in, you start to think about some of the things Jake had done for you. Not just the grand gestures like saving your hide in aerial combat, but the small, everyday things. The way he'd always save you a seat, bring you coffee exactly how you like it, offer subtle words of encouragement when you doubted yourself.

Javy steps forward, his competitive spirit twinkling in his eyes. "You're telling me you haven't noticed how he always goes out of his way to make sure you're okay?"

Reuben, good-natured but always vigilant, nods in agreement. "Hangman's not exactly an altruistic guy, Y/N. But for you? He'd go to lengths he wouldn't for anyone else."

You crack a wry smile, determined to stay firm in your denial. "He's just protective. We're teammates."

Natasha had already joined in, her voice warm yet teasing. “Don’t sell yourself short, Y/N. It’s not just about being teammates. He genuinely cares.”

In the ensuing silence, you can't help but ponder on their words. Jake "Hangman" Seresin is charismatic and assertive, traits forged from his exceptional flying skills and competitive nature. But beneath that cocky exterior, there lies a heart incredibly loving and caring, willing to sacrifice anything for his loved ones. Slowly, you find yourself drifting into a vivid memory, reliving the countless cherished moments and experiences you've shared with Jake.

You recall that evening at the Hard Deck vividly. The bar was buzzing with the usual chatter and laughter, the hum of camaraderie filling the air. You were amidst your friends, enjoying the rare downtime when an unfamiliar voice cut through the noise—this stranger making an offhand but cruel remark about you. The comment was subtle, yet it stung deeply, rooting you in place with a mix of shock and mortification. Your cheeks burned under the weight of the ridicule, words lodged in your throat.

Before you could muster a response, you felt Jake's presence beside you, solid and reassuring. He stepped forward, placing himself between you and the offender. His usual easy going demeanor was replaced by a steely resolve, his eyes dark with anger. "Do us all a favor and think before you speak," he said, his voice steady but carrying an unmistakable edge.

The bar fell into an uneasy silence as Jake’s glare pinned the offender in place. "If you've got a problem with Y/N," he continued, his voice low and unwavering, "you’ll be dealing with me."

The tension hung in the air, thick and palpable. The offender, unable to match Jake's intensity, muttered an apology and slunk away, deflated. The moment passed, but the impact lingered. Jake remained there a moment longer, ensuring the threat had fully dissipated before turning back to you.

As he met your gaze, the hardness in his features softened, replaced by a gentle concern. He reached out, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. "You okay?" he asked, his voice filled with a tenderness reserved just for you.

You felt an overwhelming wave of gratitude, the initial embarrassment giving way to a profound sense of relief. Jake had stood up for you without a second thought, his protective instinct leaving no room for compromise. In that moment, you knew you were safe, not just physically but emotionally, knowing Jake had your back. His touch and the concern in his eyes reassured you even more, providing a solace that words alone could not.

.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ .

Then there was the night when you couldn’t sleep, tormented by insecurities that gnawed at the edges of your mind. It was long past midnight, and you found yourself seated on the deck of the aircraft carrier, trying to get some fresh air to clear your head before the mission. The vast expanse of the ocean and the cool night breeze did little to quiet the whirlwind of self-doubt swirling inside you.

The stars dotted the sky like tiny beacons, and the waves below gently lapped against the ship's hull, but none of it brought you peace. You wrapped your arms around yourself, tense and lost in thought, barely noticing the sound of footsteps approaching.

Jake emerged from the shadows, his silhouette becoming clearer in the soft glow of the ship's lights. He paused when he saw you, his brow furrowing with concern. He looked around, ensuring no one else was around, before walking over to you with determined but careful strides.

"Y/N, what's wrong?" he asked, his voice breaking the solitude with an edge of worry.

You hesitated, feeling foolish for bothering him. "I…I just can't stop thinking about everything that's been going wrong. I don't know if I'm cut out for this, Jake."

Jake's eyes softened, and he lowered himself to sit beside you on the cold metal deck. "Tell me more," he said gently, coaxing you to open up. His voice was so steady, so soothing, that you found yourself pouring out all your fears and anxieties—the relentless pressure, the fear of failure, the nagging feeling that you weren't good enough. With each word, you felt a weight lifting from your chest.

Jake listened without interrupting, his usual cocky demeanor replaced by an unwavering focus on you. His eyes never left your face, and his expression remained kind and attentive. "You know what I see when I look at you?" he said quietly once you had finished. "I see someone who's brave, who fights every day to be better, who cares deeply about others. You're stronger than you think, Y/N. Don't let those doubts control you."

His words felt like a balm to your soul, soothing the raw edges of your insecurities. When he reached out to brush a stray tear from your cheek, the warmth of his touch and the sincerity in his eyes melted away your remaining doubts, leaving you wrapped in a cocoon of reassurance. Sitting there on the deck, under the endless sky, you felt profoundly grateful for Jake's unwavering support and the strength he helped you find within yourself.

.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ .

You also remember the time when you injured your ankle during a training exercise. You had insisted on limping back to your quarters, trying to maintain your independence. But Jake wouldn't hear of it. He had scooped you up without a second thought, cradling you in his arms as if you weighed nothing. "I've got you," he murmured, his voice laced with an uncharacteristic gentleness. The entire trek back, he kept you engaged in light-hearted banter, ensuring your mind stayed off the pain.

.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ .

And how could you forget the morning he had brought you coffee? Not just any coffee, but a complex, personalized concoction—an oat milk latte with a shot of caramel, a pinch of cinnamon, and a dash of nutmeg, and no foam. You hadn’t even mentioned it to him before. "Thought you could use a pick-me-up," he had said nonchalantly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. But you knew the effort he had put into remembering such a detailed order, and it made your heart swell with an unfamiliar warmth.

These memories play in your mind like a cherished montage, each moment a testament to the man beneath the bravado. Jake "Hangman" Seresin wasn’t just the cocky pilot everyone else saw. He was a protector, a confidant, a friend who cared deeply for you, even if you had been too blind to see it before.

Returning back to the present moment amidst the lively ambiance of the Hard Deck, surrounded by the warmth of friends and laughter, you notice Jake returning from the restroom. As your eyes meet, his familiar smirk emerges, but this time there’s a tender softness in his gaze that you hadn’t noticed before—or perhaps, hadn't allowed yourself to see.

“Miss me?” he jokes, sliding back into the chaos of pool cues and friendly banter.

You chuckle, shaking off the speculative thoughts. “Like a bad habit, Seresin.”

But later, as the night winds down and the camaraderie ebbs into a quieter hum, you catch yourself glancing his way more often. The teasing remarks of your friends aren’t so easily dismissed anymore. And as Jake catches your gaze across the room, you start to wonder if maybe, just maybe, they might be onto something.

Because sometimes, the most significant realizations are the ones that had been right in front of you all along, masked by the comfort of friendship and the chaos of duty.

You smile to yourself, feeling an inexplicable warmth. Maybe it was time to see what was beyond the camaraderie, to delve into the possibilities of what if. The thought lingers, like an unopened letter, waiting for the right moment.

For now, you return to the laughter and games, but with a new awareness, a curiosity that couldn’t be easily shaken. One thing was for sure—things were going to get interesting.

-

Text divider credits: @bunnysrph

[simpforrooster]

actually, it’s captain.

Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x f!reader

summary: request for @kpopgirlbtssvt. rooster’s girl is hit on by Top Gun students.

t/w: touch her, you d i e trope. cursing. mentions of alcohol.

Rooster leans against the bar, laughing at something Penny tells him. His jeans hang low on his hips, and he’s wearing the Hawaiian shirt you bought him for his birthday.

Rooster’s hand slaps the bar as he continues to howl. Penny and Mav exchange a look. Maverick murmurs something to Penny. Your guess would be “it wasn’t that funny.”

You throw back the rest of your drink. As your glass returns to the table, a group of men circle you, all clad in khaki. Must be new Top Gun recruits.

“What’s a pretty little gal like you sittin’ here alone for?” one of them asks you, his accent very similar to Hangman’s.

“Mind if we join ya?” the second asks. Before you can reply, two of the slide in across from you, while the one who spoke first sits next to you. His burly arm comes up around your shoulder. You stiffen under him, feeling small.

And not in the way you feel with Rooster. He makes you feel small, protected, but also empowered. This guy has a hold on you like he’s claiming you. Telling every other guy in the bar he plans on taking you home.

“This here’s Crane and Sorry,” he points to the two in front of you. “And you can call me Pleasure. As in, it’s a pleasure to meet you. As in, the way all ladies feel after a night with me.” He winks. He actually winks.

Your brain is so shocked, you can’t form words. You should take this guy’s arm and bend it behind your back, the way your dad taught you. You should give him on of your grade-a verbal lashings.

But you don’t. The sheer audacity of this man has you frozen.

You try to make eye contact with Rooster, but Pleasure’s frame blocks your view.

“Get your hands off my girlfriend, asshole.” Rooster’s voice makes a relieved breath come from your mouth. His tone of voice would make anyone run for the hills, but it leaves you full of wanting.

Pleasure chuckles, meeting Rooster’s gaze. “Actually, it’s Lieutenant.”

Crane and Sorry exchange an amused look. Rooster’s face is set in a hard line. He reaches for Pleasure’s bicep, ripping him from the booth.

“I said to get your hands off my girlfriend, asshole.” Rooster is a whole head taller than the aviator that just had himself draped on you.

“Shouldn’t leave your girl all alone, dick.” Pleasure tells him, bowing up. Rooster’s mouth pulls up on the left, giving him one of his infamous cocky smirks. Second only to Hangman’s.

“Actually, it’s Captain. And I hope to God you’re in one of my classes. Lieutenant.”

At this, you see Pleasure audibly gulp, knowing he’s fucked up. Rooster still has a death grip on his arm.

“Come on, man. Make my day,” the words come out laced with venom.

Before things can get out of hand, you hop out of the booth and high tail it to Penny. Quickly giving her a synopsis, she rings the bell, signaling these guys need to be thrown out. Hangman, Omaha, and Coyote each grab one of the guys and drag them to the exit.

Rooster joins you at the bar, taking your face in his hands. Those brown eyes roam over you, searching.

Your hands come up to cradle his face, “Roos, I’m fine.”

“When I saw him draped over you, I saw red. Nobody touches my girl.” He leans down to place a kiss against your temple. Rooster’s words have your toes curling in your shoes. You’ve never seen this side of him.

You lower your hands to his shoulders, threading one of them in his curly hair that’s definitely longer than Military regulation.

“You’re the only one I want touching me,” you murmur in his ear, your face flushing.

“Yeah?” he murmurs back.

Not trusting your voice to not come out completely needy, you nod.

“Come on, guys. Quit being disgusting,” Maverick says to the two of you, feigning gagging.

Penny pops his hand over the bar, eliciting a laugh from him.

Rooster ignores him, placing a deep kiss onto your mouth.

“Take me home, baby,” you say, taking in those brown eyes.

“I don’t know, pretty girl, I don’t think I can get further than the Bronco,” he winks.

masterlist.

[missmarveledsblog]

Brooster ( Bradley Bradshaw x reader )

summary : when y/n brings her class to the hanger well bradley gets to check off two dreams in one go to jakes dismay and when the two bickering stems a glorious idea fun for all well other than the two men

warning: rooster being love sick , part of the its fate series gave her a nickname sunny, grammatical and spelling errors soz

its fate series here

@bets-bookshelf gave me this idea so long ago when i was doing the it's fate series so had to do something for it

also something fluffy for the amazing @shanimallina87

He told them from the beginning , before he even talk to her or found out she as hangmans sister that she was going to be the future mrs bradshaw . He was right because although it wasn’t a wedding ring  on her finger it was just one more step away. Two years to the day he ended the perfect first day recreating the very same moment and yet making it more special  .  finishing the dance in that spot spinning her out slowly  and then when she turned back there he was on one knee asking what  her to be his wife . everyone soon learned how true it would be they would be it before the engagement all you had to do was look at the couple and  you would see it . thanksgiving she brought him back to texas to which take teased  them the whole time but her parents loved  bradley almost instantly to the blonde aviators dismay even grandma seresin loved him which wasn’t so easy some of her brother in laws were still trying to win the old matriarch over.   He waited til she went shopping with her sisters and that when bradley asked for their permission and their blessing  . The look on jakes face had to be a bonus to the whole cherry on the cake. 

Now here he was  in the present  proudly guiding her and her class to the hanger .  little wide eyes , excited faces standing not knowing what to do or  say next . They must of got the same warning mav and y/n  gave the dagger squad , the captain still trying to convince the younger seresin to enlist as she had the talent to be a commander.    They all seem to take it stride and keeping language to a minimum  although a few nearly slips happened only to be stopped  short  . he also did try to keep his adoring and  goofy smiles in her direction to a minimum which failed the moment she walked into the hanger and honestly watching her and the kid suddenly had him picturing  her with their and maybe he could ovulate something he was looking into because shit he was convinced he was   every time he seen her being so sweet and caring to a pint sized human . 

“ OK boys and girls gather up lieutenant bradshaw here is going to tell you all about the F/A-18  you ready ?” mav smiled to the group of children who in turn we yelling excited “YES” .  

“ liuetant ? “ bob nudged him from staring at the pretty teacher who snorted. 

“ sorry erm yeah so lets show you guys one of  the loves  of my life” he winked to y/n  who rolled her eyes and followed after making sure the kids where  safe distance.  She knew the whole inside and out considering her brother and now soon to be husband yammered on about it the whole week , or more so argued over the importance of which part to  talk more on .  each time his eyes would meet hers and he’d stumble through abit . 

“ maybe don’t enlist?” Maverick chuckled when nat nudged bradley to get his attention .

“ concentrate brooster” she hissed.  The little eyes seemly picking up more than the jet as they stood around. 

“ anyone any questions ?” rooster looked over the little awe struck face . “ you there with the cute pigtails “ he pointed. 

“ my name is abby , do you have crush on miss sunny “ that nickname he heard  them calling her few time it fit she really was a human embodiment of sunshine and could burn if got on bad side . 

“ erm yes .. anyways spiderman shirt which is awesome by the way shoot “ he chuckled a little caught off guard .

“ aren’t you too old for sunny?” he asked .

“ i like that kid” jake snorted. 

“ i’m not that old … anyone else “ he looked as all hands raised . “ about the jet or base” he added as they all fell down except one. “Shoot little lady” . 

“ can we fly in these today ?” she asked . 

“ sadly not see you gotta be erm 18 to fly in them “ he lied quickly . 

“ sunny you can’t fly” she turned to her teacher. 

“ i’m older 18 cassie “ y/n snorted. 

“ well then lets bring the kids up to the control room and you can give sunny here a lap in the sky “  nat smirked as she knew it was one of his stupid little dreams to do so . 

“ i got the paperwork “ bob added when he seen mav going to say something.

“ hell no… nope “ jake stood . 

“ where do i sign” she smiled brightly . 

“ come over here rest of you bring kiddo’s to the control room , make sure they ear muffs are on their head” nat called dragging sunny over to the table. 

“ i’ll fly here” jake growled. 

“ i can fly man i wont let anything happen relax” rooster rolled his eyes as they looked over and nat was helping her into a flight suit suspiciously a perfect fit  and a helmet on her head . 

“I’m watching you bradshaw “ jake grumbled heading to the control tower make sure the kids were ok .  

“ you ready pretty girl “ he smiled watching her coming over . 

“ ready lieutenant  “ she saluted as he let her climb up first  

“ hey if you every wanna enlist and be my backseater i have no objections if i get to do this all time “ he chuckled. 

“  head off her ass and make sure she comes back in one piece “ jakes voice came over the intercom. 

“  do i need to get the get along shirt for you two “ she warned . 

“ no ma’am”  both  men easily replied. 

“ ok so we wont be doing anything  crazy  , if you fell sick or anything let me know and i will land “ he told her softly as he made sure her straps  were secure . 

“ i’m not scared i’m excited “ she giggled as he shook his head  knowing this was likely gonna be outcome .  

“ ready baby” he called back . 

“ ready “ she called listening to the control room as they let the kids giving the take off clearance . 

This was a dream come true , one to mark off his bucket list to bring the love his life and thing he loved to do in like together .  her excited gasps and  pointing out everything she could see from where they were .  he turned to see her eyes filled in awe and amazement  god he was tempted to fly them to courthouse or vegas in that moment and just marry her on the spot .  she was everything and more to him  and he couldn’t wait to  enjoy rest of his life doing more like this , more exciting adventure. 

“ loop it “ she yelled 

“ you sure baby “ he chuckled at the excitement of her voice. 

“ do it “ she called . 

Her squeal  the turned she was looking at the world upside down in a spilt second  before he done it again and again . 

“ brooster what the hell are you doing , your carrying precious cargo land now” jake voice crackled through the comms . 

“ hey radley bradley brooster  time to land “ she snorted . 

“  aye aye captain hotstuff” he called back . 

“ brooster kids here keep the flirting to a minimum “ nat voice came through. 

“ tell them i’m just loving on my future wife” 

“ ok some are crying and hangman looks like he’s gonna throw up  “ fanboy sounded worried. 

“ lets land “ she called as he nodded. 

When they got on the ground  she literally got her feet on the tarmac when she was whipped around helmet pulled and thrown to mav as jake check her over .

“ give over you big dummy it was a few loops and spins i’m ok “ she slapped him away .  before  she turned to sniffling kids . 

“ some aren’t happy you getting married because their dads said it was sad day when that happens “ nat snorted. 

 “ oh jesus “ she huffed off knowing she was going to have to explain to both kids and seemly parents her private life and job were separate. 

“ curse of the hot teacher” payback chuckled. 

“ see one piece “ bradley smirked kissing her head. 

“ you not flying with her again brooster” 

“ says who bagman “ 

“ boys over there now no fighting with the kids around although even crying with snot bubbles  their still more mature “ she pointed over to the corner as they both went. 

“ honestly i love having you around kid “ mav ruffled her hair.

“Since when y’all calling him brooster” she chuckled. 

“ when he messes up , annoying or anything really “ nat shrugged.

“ we call them b&b when they fight or even get along “ fanboy broke out laughing

“ ohh i get it bagman and brooster” she giggled an idea forming in her head and coming to fruition as they all got on the bus . 

Two weeks after visiting the hangar and awkward parent teacher meetings she was staying back once the kids gone home clearing up after a day of crafts when the buzzing of her phone went off each member of dagger squad including pete maverick mitchell sending her images . when she click open she knew it would be good but shit she didn’t think it was this good . there stood her brother and her soon to be husband standing scowling wearing the enormous material  written on it  on the front read : 

Bagman and Broosters  get along shirt 

Two trapped in the fabric looking less then impressed but hell it made her year to see an idea coming to life and leave a glowing review to  the  woman that made it .

[waklman]

Bubbles

summary: bradley flushes out your eyes when he blinds you with chlorine during swim practice one night.

pairing: bradley bradshaw x female reader.

warnings: no use of y/n. fluff, suggestive jokes. 18+ blog in general.

word count: 1k

olympic swimmer au

take your marks masterlist

"I won’t be able to see again,” you sniff, mourning the loss of your eyesight. 

“Sweetheart, it’s just chlorine,” Bradley seals his lips together to hide a smile. With your eyes scrunched shut, he’s ushering you inside the empty locker room, leading you towards the line of open showers. 

While you knew that you’d eventually end up being dunked into the pool during your boyfriend’s late night swim practice—you anticipated that he’d do it while you had on your goggles at least.

But, no. The conniving gold medalist had the nerve to ask for a kiss as a pretense to pull you into the chemically treated water. And of course you were going to come waddling over because honestly, who wouldn’t? 

The lazy smile on his face sparkled under the glow of the underwater led lighting system, and his biceps increased in size because he had been doing backstrokes for the last hour.

If you didn’t have the confirmation that he was human, you would’ve assumed he was some sort of siren—luring your unsuspecting self closer towards him. 

“But, hey. You’re still kinda sexy doggy paddling away from me, blind and all.” He unhelpfully adds on, guiding you by the hips.

Nudging the back of your ankle, he steers you away from the bench you’re about to walk into. “Watch where you’re goin’ baby.”

“I can’t watch! I’m blind!”

“Oh, really? I couldn’t tell when you were screaming that earlier,” he puts forth, deep voice practically dripping in a thick coat of sarcasm. 

All he gets in response from you is something akin to a growl, as he spins you around to face him, backing you up into the tiny shower that barely fits you both.

As of right now, he has no plans to peel your swimsuit off, so the curtain stays open. 

Now standing under the shower head together, Bradley reaches to twist the knobs behind you. Leaning his head in, he blocks the water from hitting the top of your head. “Open. And I mean your eyes, not your mouth.” 

“I-I know that!” 

In a rush to get the pain over with, your eyes shoot open and you lean back, giving your smirking boyfriend a view of the irritation he caused to your poor eyeballs.

Lifting his head upright, Bradley raises his pruney fingers to gently hold your eyelids open. 

Whispering encouraging praise of Good girl, Bradley helps you get through the uncomfortable feeling of water filtering over the scratchy surface of your pupils.

“I don’t know how your stupid mustache doesn’t burn off from all the chemicals in that pool,” you grumble, rolling your eyes back, chasing relief for yourself.

“Oh shut up, you like it.”

When you don’t give him a snappy response, Bradley chuckles. Because he’s right. You do like it.

After thirty seconds of you silently flushing out your eyes—and Bradley assisting you, the pain subsides.

At that, relief fills you. Because not long ago, you were sure today would be the last day you’d ever get to see your handsome boyfriend’s face. 

Blinking rapidly underneath him, Bradley takes it as a sign to hover his face over yours again—blocking off the stream of cold water from hitting your face. Though, the weak pressure of the shower pangs against his thick neck instead, tracing down his muscled back.

With his hands back on his sides, Bradley cracks his knuckles against his tight custom swim shorts. 

“Thought you liked it, Bubbles,” the curve of his mouth lifts upward, stretching his grin to its limit. If there was one way to get you worked up—besides yanking you into the pool—it was bringing up your nightmarish attempt to ask him out on a date.

Truly, you don’t know what came over you when you blurted out Do you want to come over and watch Bubble Guppies?

But then again, the three brain cells scrambling around in your head at the time couldn’t come with anything better when there was Bradley Bradshaw—your dad’s new olympic recruit standing in front of you—very shirtless and very wet. And very much your age and type. 

It would be a lie to say that you stopped fighting with your father when he dragged you to work with him. Suddenly, it wasn’t all that bad. 

Who knew that towel folding and monitoring equipment would magically become easier when you had some eye candy walking around the two meter pool every single day.

“I wish I never watched Bubble Guppies with you!”

“Hey, at least ‘M not calling you Mr. Grouper,” he offers, scrunching his nose at you. At the remembrance of that round goldfish that led around the school of guppies, you’re glad he’s not calling you that either. 

“Mr. Grouper acts more like my dad.” Fat droplets fall from your water clogged lashes when you start to smile. 

Smoothly, Bradley ducks down to kiss your smiley mouth. “I must really like you, to be kissing you after watchin’ you swim away like a drowning dog.”  

That rush he gets from winning a race pounds him right in the chest when you swat his defined arm, your giggle echoing through the vacant locker room. 

Bradley’s unable to resist pecking your lips again. “You think Mr. Grouper would be happy that his little girl is off hanging with the likes of me?” He quips, cocking his head. 

At this rate, his face is a bit sore from grinning so hard. He could imagine the shit Seresin would give him for smiling like a loser right now.

You shrug, playfulness glinting in your eyes. “Well, do you think he’d rather me swim with members of the U.S team or Great Britain?”

Bradley’s expression immediately drops, not pleased with the mention of that other team.

There were so many other countries you could’ve brought up, and like your dad, you decide to rile him up by bringing up the guys who beat him last season. 

He audibly frowns, large hands extending to finger the band of your swim bottoms. “I’m hopin’ you don’t have plans to hang around them.”

Bradley eyes you up and down.

Again, you shrug, cheeks almost touching your shoulders when you do so. “Nah, I kinda really like this cute guy on the U.S team.”

“Yeah? Good. ‘Cause I was thinking about dunking you back in the pool, Mr. Grouper.”

“Bradley!”

The following day, Bradley calls you Mr. Grouper for the entirety of swim practice, leaving everyone else confused—especially his Coach.

note: anddd another little series blossomed because i’m in a summer mood! as always thank you for reading, and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

join the taglist for this series here or follow me on @waklman-library and turn on notifs to be notified when i post!

[thewulf]

Bumblebee || Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw

Summary: So half baked idea, but I love you and know you’ll do it justice (if you want of course). But like Bradley dating a teacher(or anyone non military I just pick teacher because ya know 🤷🏼‍♀️).... Read Rest Here

A/N: Takes place a few years after TGM. Bradley and crew are instructors at TG. Added a few OC instructors who don’t do much lol. Reader is Amelia’s teacher/tutor! Enjoy!!

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Y/N

Word Count: 2.0k +

The bar opened up at 5, you had Amelia meet you there at 3 since Penny had to be there then to open the bar anyway. You were her hired tutor for the summer getting her ready for the dreaded SAT. She was already seventeen. Planning to head off to college next year. Her goal was Stanford. Everybody cheered her along the way.

Lucky for you she actually tried. The lessons sailed and you hadn’t even noticed the bar opened up for the night before you heard the rowdy pilots enter led by nonother than your very own boyfriend. A wide smile glossed your cheeks as you took the handsome man in. Your handsome man.

He waved to you before getting into earshot. Speeding up he wanted nothing more than to be with you. Long days sucked.

“Hi honey.” You waved to your boyfriend of a year as his fellow Top Gun teachers strolled into the Hard Deck behind him.

“Baby.” He cooed walking right up to you, pulling you up from your seat and wrapping his arms around you. You let yourself be pulled into him and gripped him tightly in response. Breathing him in deeply you sighed relief having him in your arms again. Even though you’d literally left his place twelve hours ago it seemed like too long. It was too long.

“Gag me.” Amelia coughed looking away quickly, “That’s my teacher Bradley.” She visibly frowned unhappy with the distraction.

Rolling his eyes, he gave your body a tight squeeze before releasing you gently. He set you back down in your seat with the softest touch, “What’s a seventeen-year-old doing in a bar anyway?”

You giggled lacing your fingers through his, “We were just wrapping up hon. Amelia has her big test on Saturday and wanted to get some last-minute prep in.”

She eyed him, “My mom wanted me to get some last-minute prep in.” She clarified before continuing, “I can have you banned Bradley. Being the owners daughter. Test me.” Her confidence only grew as she spent more time around pilots, specifically Mav. She was picking up on his smart-ass mouth.

“You wouldn’t do that to Y/N.” He challenged her.

“You’re right. I wouldn’t. But she’s also her own person and can come here without you. While you’re banned.” Amelia smirked. She’d be just fine in college on her own. She’d be perfectly fine.

He raised his eyebrows. You shook your head placing a hand over your mouth hiding the giggle away from him, “Teenagers.” He grumbled, “I’ll get you a beer gorgeous girl. We’ll be over in the corner when your done.”

“Sounds good babe. I’ll be over soon.”

Winking at you he waved before turning back to the crew. You turned your attention back to Amelia who was giving you the ‘that was absolutely wretched’ face.

“What?” You bit down on your bottom lip curling your lips into a smile around it.

“That’s disgusting. You and Bradley.” She shook her head. She really did approve but she hated the PDA. Only because you were her teacher and all. It felt icky seeing that outside the classroom. Especially with Bradley.

After Penny married Mav and moved in Bradley had come around quite a bit more. Which meant that you came around quite a bit more. Bradley insisted that he needed you there. You’d gotten along with everybody of course. It was simply an adjustment for Amelia.

“You know, I still am your teacher.” You were baiting her, and you knew it. Or maybe you were baiting yourself.

She shook her head, “You lost that title last weekend when you, mom, Pete, and Bradley were wasted playing Beer Olympics all day long. And then proceeded to beg me for hours to be a judge.”

You couldn’t help the laughter that escaped your lips, “It worked didn’t it?” You reminisced on her declaring you the winner after you won the final round of beer pong. Your individual score crushing the rest of the field. Turns out you rocked playing games when you were drunk. You learned something new every day.

She shook her head further, “We’ll call it college prep. Now go. Your boyfriend won’t stop staring. It’s getting creepy.” She pointed to the back booth where Bradley was halfway paying attention but really just waiting on you.

You looked over your shoulder waving to the desperate boy. Turning back to Amelia you stood from your chair, “Same time tomorrow?”

“Only because mom insists.” She sighed, “See you tomorrow.”

“See ya honey.” You gave you a quick hug before speed walking to the group of Aviators. Bradley, Natasha, Jake, Marty, and Ken sat there chatting away after what you assumed to be a long day. Bradley was usually much more needy after more stressful days and he was needier than ever, or so it seemed.

“Baby.” Bradley made the grabby hands as you walked closer. You shuffled right into his grasp being pulled right into the booth next to him.

“Hi honey.” You kissed his cheek before turning back to the group, “Rough day?”

They all let out a collective sigh before three different conversations erupted at the same time. Bradley leaned down whispering into your ear, “We got a mini-Hangman today. Going to be fun to break the young kid.” Bradley chucked taking a sip of the bear. You watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed while he took the drink. A bead of sweat made its way down his neck likely from the humid air and alcohol consumption.

“A mini-Hangman you say?” You asked curiously remembering some of the wild stories your boyfriend had told you about his friend. His enemy turned friend. Funny how life worked like that sometimes. Bradley had told you all about how they turned a corner after the Uranium mission. Jake got less aggressive in the skies. More teammate focused. Bradley got better at handling his emotions. Being able to communicate a whole lot better once he figured that out.

The real Hangman heard you from across the table making sure to chime in, “He’s an ass. Nothing like me darlin’.” He made sure to clarify.

“Well, I heard you might’ve been a different person five years ago. An asshole maybe?” You continued the conversation between the three of you.

He looked shocked, “You wound me Y/N.”

“Truth hurts, honey.” The laughter didn’t stop coming as Hangman animated his own death in front of you. A knife stab to the heart. He sunk down in the seat grabbing the attention of the entire group.

Natasha looked over rolling her eyes but taking the opportunity to grab the groups attention from him, “So, we’ve been thinking.” You looked over to Nat who started talking right to you while also talking over the group, “You’re here with us almost every time we come out.” She smirked over at Bradley who had his arm draped around your shoulders rubbing your arm with the pads of his fingertips knowing what he divulged to her earlier.

You scrunched your fists together and apart out of nerves, “Not annoying you guys right?” Needing to ask you looked right at her trying to find anything from her. Making sure you weren’t a nuisance in the already tightknit group.

She shook her head quickly, “No, no, not at all! Hell, I’d rather you be here than Bradshaw.” You looked up at your boyfriend grinning ear to ear. He tried to look pissed but his lips twitching upwards gave him away. He loved the relationship he had with Nat. The two of them falling into the brotherly and sisterly role all too easily. Bickering to the highest degree.

Bradley leaned forward giving your should a gentle squeeze in the process, “Can’t say I blame you Phoenix. I would rather be with her than me too.” He pulled you in closer, heat be damned.

You pinched his side, always the flatterer he was. He looked down giving you a quick kiss on your cheek. If there was one thing about Bradley it was that he was unafraid. He did not give a single shit about what the guys thought about his actions towards you. You were his girl. His favorite thing in the world. He cherished that and you more than he could have ever even imagined. Bradley loved you. Adored you. And he let the world know it.

“What were we thinking Nat?” You asked after snaking an arm around his waist. He grinned in satisfaction. That was his love language. Touch. He always needed a hand on you. But craved you to be touching him as well. Ever the needy one your boyfriend was.

She, very dramatically, rolled her eyes at Bradley before redirecting her attention back to you, “You need a callsign.”

“Oh, no!” You shook you head quickly, protesting immediately.

“Why not?” Jake asked leaning back in his seat observing you. It’d been his idea after all. He and Bradley had actually grown closer over the last year teaching at Top Gun, finding common ground. When Bradley had found you Jake had seen him flourish into who he was today. Jake had never seen Bradley so happy. When Bradley finally let the group meet you six months ago everyone quickly adored you. It wasn’t hard. You were the sweetest person any of them had probably ever met. Always wondering how in the hell Rooster could bag you.

“Well, I’m not a pilot.”

“So?” Nat shook her head in confusion.

“Isn’t that against the rules?” You asked sheepishly sinking back into Bradley.

Jake shrugged, “I think if a group of pilots wants to give you one its following the rules.” He chewed on the toothpick he took from the bar smiling right over at you.

You looked up at your boyfriend, “I had nothing to do with this. But why not. You deserve a callsign too. They like you more than me anyway.” He kissed the crown of your head.

“Ain’t that the truth.” Jake agreed in a cheery voice. Bradley flipped him off while you high-fived him.

You nodded once the laughter died down amongst the group, “Okay then. Now what?” It still felt weird. You’d never actually called them by their callsigns. Maybe this would open up that chance.

“Anybody have a good one?” Nat’s face flashed with excitement at your agreement

Jake answered first, “Sugar! Cause she’s sweet.”

You chuckled at that one. It would fit you, but it didn’t feel quite right. Not lively enough.

“I was thinking Apple, cause she’s a teacher.” Ken chimed in.

Nat shook her head, “Terrible, both of you.” She disagreed wholeheartedly reassuring your own feelings for both. Both okay but not the one.

“Then what’s your idea Phoenix?” Jake edged in his seat.

“I was thinking, Bumblebee. Because you call everybody honey.” She grinned all too proud of herself for coming up with that one. Bradley squeezed your thigh agreeing with that one. He like that one.

“Oh, I like that one!” You grinned agreeing with your boyfriend.

“Too bad sugar, you don’t get a say in your callsign.” Jake winked at you knowing it’d get a rise out of both of you, his favorite game to play.

Bradley leaned forward, “I like that one too. Bumblebee not Sugar” He reiterated out loud this time. Both Marty and Ken agreed. Nat turned towards Jake giving him the finger before proclaiming the victory of the callsigns.

“Bumblebee it is.” Nat grinned knowing she bested him. Everything was a competition among the pilots.

“Bee for short.” Jake butted in.

“A nickname for a nickname.” You smile only got brighter. Bradley looked down at you lovingly. Little did you know what he had planned for you soon. He was going to propose to you. Marry the shit out of you. Have as many kids as you wanted and live his best life possible with you. He couldn’t wait to really get his life started, “How cute.” You clapped your hands glad you’d agreed.

“Just like you.” Bradley whispered into your ear. He nibbled on your earlobe sending a chill down your entire side. Bastard knew exactly what he was doing. You gripped his thigh creeping your hand a little higher until he stopped. Grabbed your hand to stop your ascent up his thigh. Letting a low growl out he snapped the both of you back to reality.

Hangman only shook his head muttering something under his breath. Nat gave you a knowing grin. You certainly knew what the two of you were getting up to later.

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[frost-queen]

Dogfights (Reader x Jake 'Hangman' Seresin)

Requested by: anon , Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex–awesome–22 , @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers  , @merlieve   , @queen-of-books , @glimmering-darling-dolly  ,@denkisclown , @wildieflower  ,@meyocoko    , @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl  , @m-rae23 , @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr , @swampthing07   , @melsunshine  @panhoeofmanyfandoms , @venomsvl , @the-uncoordinated-house-cat ,@rosecentury ,@imagines-by-her,@evilcr0ne , @vviolynn , @niktwazny303   ,@avada-kedavra-bitch-187 , @markive-m

Summary: Reader hates Hangman cause he's an asshole. Hangman can't stop teasing you about it. When he sees you flirt with another he jumps in, acting all jealous and possesive. Dragging you to a secluded area, he asks just how much you hate him before kissing you. Shocking your crew when you start dating.

Your F16 shot past Phoenix and Bob one’s. Breathing loud in the mask as you turned the handle. Your F16 doing a turn, hanging vertical up in the air. – “Wow slow down there Y/n.” – Phoenix called out over the intercom. – “Back.” – Bob shouted loud seeing another F16 behind him. Phoenix pulled up as the F16 went nose up. She let it tip till it faced forwards once more. Confused she looked at the F16 that had simply flew forwards.

Ignoring them in the dogfight. – “What are you doing?” – Phoenix whispered. You groaned loud making your F16 twirl in the air. The F16 on your tail, not easy to loose. – “Cut it out Bagman!” – you shouted over the intercom. You heard him chuckle. – “I’m coming for you.” – he laughed out. He sped up ignoring Coyote’s F16 that he could’ve easily played out of the game. 

Turning and tumbling, you tried to get your F16 behind Hangman’s. – “Not interested in more snacks?” – Phoenix teased over the intercom. Hangman only seemed to have eyes for you. Making it his goal to cut you out of the game. Everything else not caring for. – “Nope, just the big meal.” – he replied over the intercom with a smile.

He was tailing you. Following your F16’s movement smoothly. Narrowing his eyes a bit, he flipped the protecter up. Giving him a clear to press the button. The scanner on his screen tracking you mindlessly till it found a lock on you. –“Gotcha.” – he said pressing the button. There were some beeps as he cheered loud. – “You’re out of the game Scout.” – he shouted loud in victory.

You turned round to fly beside him. Hangman saluted you as you held your hand up, flipping it over to stuck your middle finger up to him. Hangman laughed more. – “God I love winning from you Scout.” – he said with ease, getting all comfortable in his seat. You brought your F16 down to the landing track.

Rooster came running up to you as you got out of the F16. – “God I hate him.” – you muttered out. Rooster joined your side, swinging his arm around your shoulder. – “3 minutes Scout. You managed to get him off your back for 3 minutes. That’s 20 seconds longer than last time.” – Rooster spoke as you laughed mockingly at him.

“Every damn dogfight!” – you groaned out. – “He always singles me out.” – you finished with frustration. Every dogfight Hangman always came chasing after you to get you out of the game. In the beginning it took him about 30 seconds to do so. Over the courses, you had figured he’d only come after you so you adapted. Learning how to stay out of his sight that little longer.

Today it seemed to be 3 minutes. 3 minutes he had been chasing you around before kicking you out of the game. Why? No one had a clue. Perhaps cause he was just an asshole. Rooster pushed you closer to him. – “I’ll buy you drinks when this is over.” – he said. – “You better.” – you answered nudging him in the side.

Rooster chuckled leading you back to the others. Maverick patted you on the back once you joined the others. With a deep sigh, you sat down. Listening in on the intercom of Hangman and Phoenix still up in the air. After another 2 minutes or so. It was over.

Hangman walked in all smug. Phoenix shooting him a glare as Bob walked quietly behind her. You were all dismissed as you and Phoenix walked to the changing rooms. Holding your fresh shirt in your hands, you had the need to groan loud in frustration. – “Every single time.” – you called out catching Phoenix’s attention. – “I hate it.” – you added. – “I know.” – Phoenix said dramatically noticing a figure appear in the door opening.

“Isn’t that sweet.” – Hangman came leaning against the door, arms crossed. – “You’re getting all worked up over me.” – he teased with a pestering smile. Giving him a glare, you threw your shirt at his face. He dodged it as it landed in the hallway. Jake chuckling teasingly taking a run for it. You rolled your eyes, getting to the hallway to retrieve your shirt.

You finished getting dressed, slamming your locker shut. You drove with Phoenix to the bar, meeting up with everyone else. Most of the boys were already there. You waved Phoenix goodbye, coming up to the bar. You held two fingers up to Penny as she already knew the order.

On the other side of the bar appeared Hangman. – “I’ll have four more on the old timer.” – he said, leaning with his elbow on the bar. Penny quirked her eyebrow up. – “Oh, I meant Y/n.” – he enlightened Penny with a slight point at you. – “Don’t you ever grow tired of your lame jokes?” – you asked him. – “Nope.” – he responded all quirky. – “Certainly not when I can make you blush like that.” – he said.

Immediately you pressed your hand against your cheek, feeling if you had warmed up. Feeling if you were flushed without you knowing. Jake laughed loud from your reaction. He had lied, but it was fun to see you actually believe it. Penny sat down the beers in front of Hangman. – “Next time it’s your turn.” – she warned him.

Hangman clicked his tongue with a wink at you. Penny turned to your side of the bar. Giving you a sympathetic smile whilst giving you the drinks. You took them, going around the bar to your company. Phoenix sat in one of the booths with Fanboy and Rooster. You set her drink down, scooting in at Rooster’s side.

“He still bothering you.” – Rooster asked, swooping an arm over you. Your gaze flashed towards Hangman by the pool table. He looked back at you with a smile, tapping the pool stick gently on the ground. – “He just thinks he’s interesting.” – you told them, making them all laugh. – “Enough about Bagman. I want to enjoy this night.” – you said leaning closer to the table. – “Cheers to that.” – Phoenix said holding her drink up.

You raised your drink as well letting it touch with hers. The four of you chatted and laughed. Having so much fun it showed. It caught Hangman’s attention from time to time. A few more hours in and drinks away, you got up for another order. Exhaling loud you made your way over to Penny’s bar. Leaning a bit on the counter, waiting for her as she had gone to the back for some refills.

From across the bar, your eyes met up with a boy. He wore his uniform as you figured he was on a different program. He smiled at you, making you smile shyly back. He couldn’t seem to get his attention away from you. Penny returned, blocking his view as you saw him try to look past her to catch you.

It made you chuckle teasingly finding it cute. The man ordered as he then gestured at you. – “I’m buying her drinks too.” – he said. – “That’s be five more drinks on your behalf.” – you told him, letting him know he wasn’t just buying for one drink. – “Sure.” – he responded with a sweet smile. Penny didn’t interfered getting the drinks. The man patted the bar before going around and joining your side.

“So you’re a Top gunner.” – he remarked observing your uniform. You turned more towards him, observing his uniform. It had a dark blue shade. – “You’re an upper-sider.” – you acknowledged. – “That I am ma’am.” – he said making you laugh. Penny was setting the drink on the counter as you only seemed to have eyes for each other. The guy picked up a drink, handing one to you. He took one for himself, letting your drinks touch. – “Cheers to you sugar.” – he said. You leaned a bit closer, chatting with him. You remained by the bar as your friends were still waiting for their drinks.

Hangman’s gaze fell on you by the bar. Seeing another man with you. His eyes widened brief before they narrowed to a glare. – “Hangman… Hangman… Jake.” – Coyote said to get his attention. Coyote patted Jake against his shoulder. – “It’s your turn man.” – he said surprised when Jake pushed his pool stick into his hands. He made his way over to the bar, ready to break whatever was going on apart.

Jake moved himself in front of you, blocking your way from him. The guy looked surprised at the sudden appearance of him. Jake eyed him up and down. – “What do you think you are doing?” – he asked rudely. – “I…I’m just talking to her.” – the guy answered. Jake scoffed with a put up smile. – “Jake.” – you shout-whispered behind him, nudging his back with your fist to make him cut it out.

“I’m sorry but I didn’t gave you permission to talk to her.” – Jake answered. – “Jake.” – you repeated giving him another nudge to stop embarrassing you. – “I didn’t know I needed permission.” – the guy answered, not backing down. Jake gave him a taunting smile to mock him. – “Jake please.” – you begged for him to stop being such an idiot.

“I’ve got a fun idea.” – Jake said giving the guy a little shove by his shoulder. – “Why don’t you back off.” – he called out. – “Jake!” – you called out loud, already feeling embarrassed enough as all your friends were watching. – “What are you her boyfriend or something?” – the guy asked loud. You hated it and wanted to escape so you started to leave. Before you even set two steps, you were held back by Jake grabbing your wrist, keeping you by his side.

His grip firm around your wrist. The hatred in his eyes clear. Jake bumped hard with his shoulder against him, whilst dragging you along. You looked back over your shoulder to Phoenix, not sure what was happening. Phoenix could only stare speechless back at you. Jake dragged you over to where the toilets were. Secluded and away from everyone else. He let go of you by the window.

“What the hell Hangman!” – you called out. Suddenly startled when Jake moved closer, pressing his hands beside you on the glass, locking you in. – “How much do you hate me?” – he asked, making you widen your eyes in shock. – “What?” – you called out confused. – “Just how much do you hate me Y/n.” – he needed to know. For a moment you thought he was serious till you saw that smirk appear.

“I…I…I don’t know.” – you responded stuttering as you couldn’t utter a word. Not with Hangman leaning in so close to you. You looked away, finding his fixed stare a bit too intense. Hangman removed one hand from against the glass, taking your chin to make you face him. – “How much.” – he whispered eyeing your lips. You parted your lips to speak, not sure what to say. A moment later were his lips on yours.

To your surprise you were kissing him back. Not sure why you were kissing this fool back. His hands touched your lower back, pressing you closer to him as your hands found a way to his neck. Hangman broke the kiss off whilst smirking. – “So how much?” – he asked teasingly making you roll your eyes at him, pushing his face away by his cheek in a playful way. 

He grabbed you again, kissing you a second time as he didn’t seem to get enough from it. The two of you returned to the others, collecting the drinks still on the bar to hand them out. Hangman winked at you before returning to Coyote to finish his game.

The next day you were in the hangar with everyone. You sat down with Phoenix and Bob. Maverick chatting with Cyclone as they waited for the last recruits to join them. Hangman, Fanboy and Coyote neared to take a seat. Hangman first went over to you, coming to stand behind your chair. He pressed his hands down on it, lowering his head as he gave you a kiss upside down.

Phoenix’s eyes widened as Bob’s jaw dropped. Even Maverick stared shockingly at the display. Hangman pulled himself back up, seeing all eyes were on him. – “What?” – he called out. You could disappear from embarrassment. Hangman nudged Bob against his arm to get up, making way for him. Bob got up still staring as Hangman came sitting down in his seat.

"Please begin.” – Hangman told Maverick. Bob quickly took a seat behind Phoenix as Maverick cleared his throat. He moved up to the front, beginning his lecture. It was hard to get everyone’s attention as no one had thought the two of you would start dating. Coming as a total surprise to them.

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

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[bradshawssugarbaby]

Welcome Home, Rooster Bradshaw.

summary: It's been a long six months away from home for Bradley, and you're going to give him the welcome you both deserve.

a/n: ignore that this gif is from the offer, ok? It fits the vibe.

pairing: bradley bradshaw x reader

warnings/content: masturbation (m), facesitting, p in v, creampie, dirty talk, bradley's a vocal lover, praise kink.

word count: 3k

taglist: @nouis-bum @floydsmuse @mamachasesmayhem @avengersfan25 @jessicab1991 @atarmychick007 @b-bradshaw @djs8891 @fall-winter-heart97 @primroseluna @silversprings-mp3 @drxgxnslxyer @gardenavenue

Two more days.

Two more days until Bradley could see your face in person again. Two more days until he could be home and in his own space. 

Bradley let out a heavy, tired sigh, reaching his hand under his pillow. He pulled out the picture of you that he’d brought with him on deployment, tracing over your image with his fingers gently. The picture’s edges were becoming curled, worn from being tucked into flight helmets and under pillows, clutched in sweating, sometimes shaking palms, lips pressed to it in a tender kiss on occasion. He admired the photo, he’d taken it on a date you went on before he left. 

His dad’s well-loved Polaroid camera, left to him as a kid, in hand, he’d taken you to Mission Beach for the day, wanting to have the full tourist experience with you before he got shipped to the middle of the Pacific again. He found a store in Coronado that sold film for vintage cameras, building up a small stockpile for himself. He’d given you a full photoshoot that day — pictures snapped at every opportunity. Watching planes fly over head, playing games in the arcade, rides on the wooden rollercoaster, rock climbing, lunch dates, mini golf, and rock climbing. He’d snapped a couple of you in your sundress, smiling sweetly at him for the camera, your hair flowing in the warm Pacific breeze. 

This photo, however, was the one of you laughing on the beach, your baby blue two-piece swimsuit on, the high-waisted bottoms hugging your curves, the coordinating blue top cupping your breasts in a way that pushed them upever so slightly. He could practically hear your laugh whenever he looked at it, and it made his heartache that little bit more each time. 

“Fuck," he muttered to himself, sighing again as he looked around the bunk. 

Jake was on deck for the night, leaving Bradley with the shared space all to himself for at least a couple of hours. He laid back on his bed, tugging his grey sweatpants down off his hips. He spat into his free hand, using it to stroke his cock in a slow, steady pace, your photograph in his other hand, eyes fixed on your figure as he masturbated. 

Fuck, he missed you. 

He shut his eyes, picturing you as he continued to stroke himself, seeing the facial expression you made whenever you rode him, eyes shut with ecstasy, tits bouncing up and down, hips moving, hands pressed to his chest. The mental image alone was almost enough to drive him over the brink. He let out a deep grunt as he finished, your name escaping him in a soft moan. 

Two days couldn’t come soon enough. 

When he finally got home, Bradley was exhausted. The time difference had caused him more jet lag than it usually did, not that he was sleeping well without you to begin with. He never did. He’d landed earlier than anticipated, coming home a day before he was expected. He unlaced his standard issue boots, kicking them off at the door before heading directly to the laundry room. Stripping clean from his uniform, he tossed it into the washing machine, desperate for a shower and fresh, comfortable clothes.

With a dry towel wrapped around his waist, he bounded up the wooden stairs to the main bathroom. He dropped the towel as he turned the shower on, sighing happily as he stepped into the warm water, letting it wash over him for a minute, enjoying one of the first comforts of being home for the first time in six months. 

Stepping out of the tower, he quickly dried himself off and wrapped his towel back around his waist before heading down the hall to the bedroom. Everything was neatly pulled together — freshly laundered sheets on the bed that still smelled like your favourite detergent, his clothes neatly put away for him, fresh flowers sat in a vase on your nightstand, and a new book sat on his, with a note card placed on top. 

B, I saw this the other day at that cute little bookstore on Orange Ave. It made me think of you. I thought you’d like to read it now that you’ll have a little down time. - Love, your girl. Xo

Bradley felt his heart swell as he read your neatly printed note. He picked the book up, scanning the cover with a soft smile before setting it back down. A true crime book about a case in a podcast he’d mentioned in one of his emails home — it was perfect. God, you were perfect.

He tugged a clean white t-shirt over his head before reaching into his dresser for clean boxer briefs and a pair of well-loved denim shorts that were beginning to fray around the cuffs from being worn so frequently. Bradley looked out the bedroom window at the landscape, happy to finally be home. He’d missed all the little things while he was gone — the palm trees, the smell of those little laundry scent beads you swore by, your coordinating body wash, shampoo and conditioner that you insisted on buying for him when you’d learned he’d been coasting through life for 37 years with a 3-in-1 bottle — almost as much as he’d missed you. 

Downstairs in the kitchen, he got to work crafting himself the sandwich to top all sandwiches. He was starving, and after months of bland, unexciting meals on board an aircraft carrier, all he wanted was comfort food. With his turkey club piled high and a glass bottle of Coke from Mexico in hand, he settled into his favourite chair and began to enjoy himself until you came home from work.

When you did come home, you heard the faint sound of voices coming from the back of the house. You dropped your bag at the front door, running through the house so quickly, you’d forgotten to take your shoes off. In the living room sat Bradley, in his favourite, well-loved chair, dozing as sports highlights played in the background, a plate with remnants of a sandwich and a half-finished bottle of Coke sat on the table beside him. 

You leaned in, pressing your lips to his forehead as you stroked his curls, breathing in the smell of his shampoo. He was finally home.

Bradley’s eyes fluttered open, a smile forming on his lips as he wrapped his arms tightly around you, his nose pressed to your neck as you settled into his lap. 

“Missed you,” he murmured against your skin, peppering you with kisses.

“Missed you more, B,” you echoed as you raked your fingers through his hair. 

“God, I missed you so much, honey. This might have been the hardest trip away from you yet.” 

Bradley’s hands rested firmly on your hips as his lips wandered down your neck to your collarbone. He mumbled against your skin, shoving the strap of your tank top down off of your shoulder. His teeth grazed at your exposed, sun kissed skin, causing you to let out a gasp. 

“Bradley!” you squealed, laughing as his deep brown eyes looked at you, taking in the sight of your face again. 

“Mhmm, I missed that laugh of yours,” he hummed, his large hands moving to cup your breasts. “I’ve missed these tits of yours too.”

“I bet you have, were Jake’s not doing it for you?” you teased.

Bradley scoffed as he pulled your tank top off over your head, tossing it off to somewhere in the void across the room. With one hand snaked around your back, he unfastened your bra in one fluid motion, discarding it to the floor. He grinned at you before pressing his mouth back to your collarbone, thumbs tracing circles over your nipples as they pebbled at his touch.

“No, one’s could do it for me like yours do, honey, you know that. Look at you. So pretty for me. My girl’s always looking pretty, ain’t she?” he purred between kisses to your breasts. 

“Bradley,” you laughed, shaking your head, “This is what you want now that you’re finally home?”

“I’ve been wantin’ this since about two hours after I left, six months without you has been torture. I contemplated quitting when I came home. I thought about faking an injury so they’d discharge me. I tried thinking up a thousand ways to come home early — all of them bad.” He nodded, as he looked up at you, hands still cupping your tits. 

“Mhmm, you thought about quitting for me? That’s not the Bradley Bradshaw I know.”

“I swear, honey, this time…this time was harder than usual.”

“Well, I’m all yours now,” you nodded, your hand stroking his cheek. 

Bradley hummed to himself, tilting his head to the side as he thought for a minute. He looked at you, watching as you bit your lower lip. The sight of you alone after so much time apart was enough to make him hard, but now it was becoming unbearable. He needed you. He craved you. 

“Upstairs, now,” he urged, nodding his head as you got off his lap.

You grinned to yourself as you headed up the stairs, walking just slowly enough to your bedroom so Bradley could catch the way your hips swayed with every step, your taut ass bouncing with each movement. It was enough to drive any man insane, but Bradley could barely contain himself. 

Fuck, he missed you.

He pushed you on to the bed, crawling on all fours as he hovered over your body with a wide grin plastered to his face. You placed a hand on his chest, steadying him as your smile faltered for a second. You held your breath for a moment before exhaling, nodding slowly as Bradley sat back on his knees for a minute. 

“Go easy on me, big guy, it’s been a long six months, I’m out of practice,” you teased, grinning at him.

“Shoot, honey, I thought you were gonna tell me you didn’t want me to-never mind, I’ll go easy on ya. I always do, don’t I?���

“Roo, you do the exact opposite of going easy.” You grinned, rolling your eyes at Bradley. 

Bradley repositioned himself over your body, smirking as he took in the sight of you again. His lips began trailing down your abdomen your shorts, sending chills running up and down your spine with every breathy kiss, every drag of his mustache against your skin. With a skillful hand, he popped the button on your shorts open, sitting up as he pulled them off of you. He hooked two fingers into the crotch of your lace trimmed underwear, shoving them out of the way as he ducked his head between your thighs. Feather-light kisses dotted your inner thighs before his mouth found your core. He flattened his tongue against your slit, running it up your folds slowly as he savoured everything he’d missed for the last six months. 

“Just as pretty as I remember it, fuck.”

His fingers spread your folds apart, giving him better access to your clit. The tip of his tongue traced shapes along it, pressing varying degrees of pressure into you, the tip of his nose pressing into your puffy cunt, swollen from how badly you’d been wanting him for the last six months. He mumbled something against your skin, his lips vibrating against your clit as he pressed another kiss to you. He sat himself up fully, smirking at you.

“Get up, pretty girl, I have an idea.”

You let out a whine in protest, sitting up on the bed as Bradley now laid down on his back. Shooting him a look, you raised your palms in protest, shaking your head at him.

“Bradley, you seriously stopped so I would give it to you instead?”

“What? No,” Bradley laughed, shaking his head as he gestured to his face. “Take a seat.”

“You want me to…?”

Bradley lifted his head up off the pillow, giving you a lustful stare, his eyebrows knitting together as he nodded his head. “Did I stutter? Take. A. Seat.”

You rolled your eyes, giving your head a shake as you slipped out of your underwear, dropping them to the floor. Climbing back on to the bed, you hovered yourself above Bradley’s mouth, looking down at him as you chewed on your lip. He shook his head, his mustache tickling at your inner thigh as he kissed up your leg. In one swift motion, he gripped your thighs tightly, pulling you down until his lips were directly under your dripping core, smirking as he murmured against your skin again. 

“That’s my girl. I’ve missed this pussy so fuckin’ much.” He grunts, nodding his head slightly as he buries his tongue into you, nose pressed to your clit. 

“Bradley!” you whimper, your eyes fluttering shut as you reached down, fingers tugging on his dark curls.

Bradley’s tongue worked into you at a breakneck speed, so fast that you wondered how he was able to breathe. His hands gripped your thighs tightly, blunt fingernails digging into your soft skin as he held you in place. His mouth worked on you relentlessly, refusing to let up until he had you a screaming, crying, pretty little mess, just how he (and you) liked it. 

“Bradley, Bradley, Bradley,” you babbled, unable to say anything other than his name as his tongue fucked into you. 

He grunted into your cunt again, mumbling words of praise into your skin. “Tastes so fuckin’ sweet, honey, so fuckin’ sweet.” He growled before delving his tongue into you again.

Your thighs began to shudder and shake, spasming as you felt your orgasm hit you harder than ever before. You shut your eyes, tears stinging as Bradley continued, not breaking his rhythm once as you came, his tongue quickly lapping at your arousal hungrily. He moved his mouth up to your clit, kissing at it with a couple of powerful sucks before pulling his mouth away. He let go of your thighs, a couple of darker marks forming on your skin from where he got carried away, gripping you a little too tightly. You got up, sitting on the bed, panting as you tried to find your mental clarity again. 

Bradley rolled onto his side and surveyed your thigh, pressing gentle kisses to the darkened marks on your skin in apology. Once you found your words again, his big brown eyes looked up at you from where he was laying on the bed. 

“Roo,” you nodded, placing a hand on his cheek, “I missed you so much.”

“I missed ya too, honey. Ain’t done with ya yet though.”

With that, Bradley quickly shimmied out of his denim shorts and boxers, kicking them off clumsily. He crawled across the bed, finding the spot between your thighs. His hands smoothed over your legs, lifting them up and hoisting them up onto his shoulders. You curved your knees around him as he aligned his hardened cock with your entrance, easing into you with a soft groan. 

“That’s my girl, taking me so well. You missed this cock, didn’t you? Missed me fillin’ ya up, huh, pretty girl?” He purred, pausing as he felt your walls stretching around him. 

“Yes, baby,” you nodded, whining as he stretched you. 

God, he was right. You did miss him. You missed him more than you wanted to let on, you missed his presence, his voice, the silly things he’d do that pissed you off, you missed the way he made love to you, passionate and caring, full of praise, making it his life’s mission to make you feel good. He took it as seriously as his work - calculated movements, using the same precision and laser-focus he did in the air.

Your eyelids fluttered shut again as you felt him pull out of you, pushing himself back into you again with a powerful thrust of his hips. Bradley tutted his tongue against the roof of his mouth, refusing to move again. “Nuh-uh, baby girl, keep those pretty eyes on me. Want you lookin’ at me when I fuck you, got it?”

You nodded dumbly as he pounded into your entrance again, making your head spin as your walls clenched around him. He began thrusting into you, starting slowly as he found his rhythm again, savouring every movement, every inch of you that he’d missed over the last six months. Bradley gently pressed his palm into your pubic bone as he thrusted harder, faster into you, the sensation heightening with the added pressure he was giving. You could tell by the knot turning in your stomach that it wasn’t going to be long before you were coming for him again, and if Bradley had his way, it wouldn’t be the last time you did tonight. 

“Feelin’ so fuckin’ good, pretty girl. That’s my girl. That’s my pretty girl,” he praised, his confident demeanor melting away, leaving Bradley a pussy drunk, babbling mess, unable to say anything other than your praises, repeating your name over and over as if it was a spoken prayer.

“‘M not gonna last, honey,” Bradley shook his head as he moaned breathlessly.

Fuck.

His breath hitched in his throat as his hips slowed, stilling as he came inside of you. Bradley let out the deepest grunt you’d ever heard — the past six months of missing you drawing out of him along with it. Ducking his head down as he tried to catch his breath, his curls slicked and stuck to his forehead with sweat, he panted heavily, gently letting your legs go as you dropped them back down to the bed. He looked up at you, deep brown eyes fixed on your features as he nodded breathlessly.

“Fuck, I missed you, honey. I missed this, and you, and home.”

“Welcome home, Rooster. Welcome home.”