#firefighter bradley

[angelbby555]

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ Pussy whipped

Summary: Firefighter Bradley has got it bad for his girlfriend.

word count: 400

⋆. ୨୧˚⋆

Usually with his team of boys Bradley would go and celebrate their win for surviving the work day or coming out alive after a massive fire. But now since Bradley had a  little girlfriend that everybody teased him about he had no intentions of staying with his team to go eat out.

“Hey Bradshaw, where are you going?” Jason took a seat on the bench after the long day. Bradley shoved his yellow coat in his red storage compartment. He was trying to get out of the locker room as quickly as possible to skip out on the teasing.

“Going to see my girl.” He took his sweaty undershirt off fishing in his locker for a new one. Bradley hurriedly searched for his shirt, hoping to cover the red lines his lovely girlfriend had left on his back before his friends could notice. 

“Oh he's even gonna change his shirt! Oh la la” William poked fun at him in front of everybody, earning Bradley a slap on the ass.

“Bradshaw, she’ll survive without you.” Greg added. They kept teasing him like usual but Bradley could care less today because he was killing to have you in his arms.

“She probably will but I won’t.”  He murmured and pulled the shirt on in one fluid motion. The boys erupted in a fit of whoops and annoying cheers, as they heard his soft mutter, making him smirk. “Guys cut it out.” Bradley lifted his shirt up applying deodorant.

“No, it just won't ever not be funny how pussy whipped you are for this girl man.” 

Bradley pulled out a bouquet of pink flowers he got at the market earlier today, making the guys freak out yet again. A sheepish smile took over Bradley’s face because he truly was down bad and tamed. He used to go out to bars and his uniform trying to pick up girls, now he was in bed before ten o’clock hanging out with his cool girlfriend. 

“You know what? At the end of the day all that matters is I’m getting some and you guys aren't.” He pointed the flowers at the crew leaving them silent. “That's what I thought.” Bradley nodded his head exiting the locker room. 

Bradley left the fire department rapidly like he was still on the job. He drove to his girlfriend's house, which felt more like home these days, given how little time he spent at his own apartment. Bradley took the steps two at a time before knocking on your door. 

A few seconds later the door swung open revealing your gorgeous self behind it.

“Hi baby.” Bradley’s face lit up his hands gravitating towards your face, pulling you into a kiss.

Oh and I bet those red lines on his back sting when he starts to sweat! 2 uploads today because I missed Wednesday and Thursday post.

[sugarcoated-lame]

“No, seriously, I can’t portion control spaghetti to save my life, I’ll be having leftovers for a week if you don’t have some.” He steps closer, bracketing you between him and the counter without meaning to. “And besides, I’m not going to relax if I think you’re in here trying to cook something else.”

The Smoke Detector | Firefighter Bradley Bradshaw

your cooking skills fail you again, and your nosey neighbour has to intervene

wc: 0.75k

masterlist | requests form

…

“Shit, shit!” You frown, dropping the charcoaled oven tray down onto the stove and trying to waft the smoke away from your face. Right away, you know you’ve got ninety seconds. It’s night time, but the standard remains the same. Roll-out in under ninety seconds.

You know he’s home from the Led Zepplin carrying through the walls. He’s three units down but he isn’t home all the time and he likes to make the most of the privacy when he is.

In an ultimate act of betrayal, your fire alarm begins to wail over your head. Slamming the oven shut, abandoning the cremated mac and cheese as you clamber up onto the countertop unsteadily. You try to tame your hair at the same time as the wailing, pulling your hood up instead. It’s a good thing that today was one of those random days you had decided to wear pants whilst relaxing.

You tug at the fire alarm, disconnecting it unceremoniously and letting it hang free as you struggle to pry the battery out of it.

“Everything okay in there?” Followed by three knocks on the door, then him trying the door handle. You close your eyes, bracing yourself to be lectured as he steps into your apartment and closes the door behind him.

Wearing a navy-coloured San Diego Fire Department shirt, gym shorts and no shoes, he stares at you from your doorway.

This isn’t the first time he has let himself into your apartment. He’s two units up, and it seems that helping you move in during that mid-august heatwave a couple of months ago came with a catch. He’s like a stray cat that you made the mistake of feeding.

But, compared to that time that you had slipped and dislocated your shoulder in the shower, you aren’t too upset with him for wandering in now.

Stern, he frowns at you, “Were you about to take the battery out of that?”

“It’s still breaking and entering, even if I know who you are, you know.” You answer him from your countertop, eyes narrowed incredulously. This is becoming embarrassing. Trying to cook something a little more ambitious, and crashing and burning. Quite literally.

“Just doing my job,” Rooster’s eyes land on the oven dish resting on your stove and he walks forwards as the alarm wails on. He calmly switches the oven off and peers down at the blackened pasta noodles and dissipated sauce. As he looks up at you, unimpressed, you silently wait for the ground to swallow you whole. “Hop down. I’ve got it.”

You tug your hoodie down a little more, shifting uncomfortably in your pink, fluffy socks. “I’ve got it.” You insist.

“Not if you were about to take the battery out, you don’t. There’s a reset button right next to your hand.” His hand comes to rest on your ankle as he looks up at the fire alarm above your head. Huh. There it is. That little red, plastic button that you had been clawing around to try to pry the battery from.

You press it and the wailing immediately stops. Which, honestly, just makes everything worse. His lips quirk into a soft smile as his eyes dart back to the cremated Mac and cheese, then to you again.

“Don’t start.” You groan.

He just chuckles and shakes his head, “Look, I prefer it a little crispy too, but um…”

“Shut up, I was reading and I forgot about it.” You tell him, lowering yourself down to sit on the countertop instead. Immediately, his face changes. Brows furrowed in concern, you feel like a middle schooler in a safety assembly before he has even had a chance to open his mouth.

“You should really—“ By the look on his face, he can tell that you don’t need a lecture from him. His warm hand squeezes softly at your knee, almost apologetic. “Well, are you hungry? — I was making pasta, there’s plenty if you want some.”

“No, I couldn’t— I’ll just—“

“No, seriously, I can’t portion control spaghetti to save my life, I’ll be having leftovers for a week if you don’t have some.” He steps closer, bracketing you between him and the counter without meaning to. “And besides, I’m not going to relax if I think you’re in here trying to cook something else.”

Your lips quirk slightly, giving a small shrug of your shoulders. The sheepish little nod that you give him is more than enough for now. He’s certain that it’ll be an enthusiastic yes after you taste his cooking.

…

*not my gif, pls let me know if it’s yours — if you’d like me to remove or just credit, I’d be more than happy to <3*

[squiddosss]

thoughts on Cop!Jake and Firefighter!Bradley?

hmm…

i think its sufficient to say that i like this AU

[yeagrave]

I’d suggest firefighter sereshaw but I don’t want to summon a buddie shipper issue again 😭 So how about Hangman as a lifeguard and Rooster as a surfer?

and then they wrestled playfully in the sand :)

[the-ace-with-spades]

I know I wrote a firefighter!Bradley AU but what about an every aviator is a firefighter AU??

(I'm sorry, thinking of applying for an on-call FF role now that I'm moving near a fire station and it got me...)

Bradley as a legacy firefighter - Goose died on the job in a freak accident when he and Mav were barely starting, then Mav stuck and had a friendly rivalry with Ice around going up the ranks/getting experience in their firehouse (who first gets the engineer, lieutenant, who gets the extra high rescue training, etc), up until Ice went into the chief roles and Mav moved to captain a heavy rescue squad...

Bradley had been rejected from the local fire academy twice (because of Mav pulling the strings... Not that Ice was aware at the time, only found out when Bradley found out and exploded on them...), certified in a different fire department and after all came back when he had already been a lieutenant at that department.

All the WSOs are double-certified or AEMT/paramedics. Natasha is doing something badass as well, maybe helicopter rescue or maybe aerial firefighting in general?? Bob is definitely a specialist medic (in kinda like the Rapid Response Unit or Motorcycle Unit in the UK...)

When Bradley comes back, he is recruited as potential captain for the fire house Mav and Ice spent over twenty years in and where his dad's face and helmet is in the hall of the fallen. Mav conveniently accepts a promotion people have been trying to push him into for the past 5 or so years, becoming a battalion chief that has the office at that station and directly overlooks the station's captains... And does absolutely everything so Bradley is not deemed suitable because he doesn't want him to be a firefighter at all...

Enter Jake Seresin, the new recruit that screams trouble. He's entered the academy a few months before, at the age of thirty and after doing some other job (maybe ex-military? ex-cop?? ex-farmer?? Idk) and instantly has beef with Bradley, the legacy fire captain and firefighter since nineteen, Jake being the overconfident know-it-all...

Cue some dangerous situation happening because of Jake's overconfidence/recklessness and Bradley risking it all (and breaking protocol and getting himself in trouble) to save his ass.

And you know, Jake is still his annoying, mouthy self, but there's some respect there now. And maybe he overhears Mav chewing Bradley out (and maybe he hears a bit too much as well, finding the secret of Bradley's triple legacy).

And since then Jake kinda starts to listen and maybe Bradley is a bit soft and maybe because he sees himself from almost fifteen years ago in Jake or maybe because he's a little fond of him (or you know, attracted to him...), he starts getting him some off the job, extra one on one training.

And maybe Jake develops a bit of a crush on his (almost) captain as the time goes. Maybe he brings out Bradley out of his shell as well, gets him to relax and stop thinking about pleasing Mav and Ice's expectations. Maybe it integrates Bradley better with the team, maybe they listen to him better, etc.

Cue once again something happening - Jake's apartment burns down (to be cliché...) and Bradley is doing overtime in another station and is the one responding. There's no dramatic rescue or anything (Jake's already evacuated most of the building) but Jake has no place to stay and his whole family is in Texas so Bradley offers he can stay on his couch.

Obviously he does not end up on the couch but in the bedroom. You know, with Bradley, wearing Bradley's clothes (all his stuff burnt down...), in Bradley's bed...

(Jake's gotta have some firefighting backstory as well btw - maybe his dad was a firefighter as well but he never got to meet him, maybe he was a safe haven baby brought to a firehouse?? He just doesn't admit it until he and Bradley are already almost-kinda a thing)

(Also, Bradley calls Jake some variation of Texas, Cowboy, etc as nick name because I know fire guys would be dead set on mocking Jake being from the south and having an accent)

There'd also be some kind of big event/mass casualty/etc that makes Mav drive out with the responding team and he and Bradley end up going into action together and getting their beef settled...

[allbark-no-bite]

the night shift.

jake seresin x bradley bradshaw (wc: 3k)

summary: jake’s a cop working the night shift and pulls over a mildly drunk (and very interested) firefighter. chaos ensues.

warnings: mature, *driving while under the influence of alcohol, some sexual references

*if this bothers you, just don’t read, simple as that. you don’t have to come into my inbox to tell me that it bothers you <3

author’s note: i’ve never written anything faster in my entire like. this was so much fun! i came across this post again and couldn’t let it go. all credit to @squiddosss for their amazing artwork

————————————————————————

It's slow nights like these that make Jake question why he prefers the night shift.

The gravel of the lonely backroad crunches beneath the tires of his cruiser as he makes the curve and slowly pulls to a stop. The sirens on his cruiser give one last whoop before he shuts them off. The back of the beat up vintage blue Bronco gleams in the shine of his headlights. He sighs and shifts the car into park before he tips his radio towards his mouth and mumbles his whereabouts, informing Javy that he's making a traffic stop.

"10-4. Keep me updated."

He climbs out of the cruiser and makes his way towards the vehicle, keeping one thumb tucked into the front of his belt, fingers ready to reach for his gun in an instant. The diver hadn't given him any trouble thus far other than what he had pulled him over for— swerving all over the road, but Jake had been trained to err on the side of caution. He runs his finger tips over the tail light as he passes it by, a habit he had picked up from working alone.

For being such an old model, the car is in pretty decent shape. It has what appears to be brand new tires and the powder blue paint job has been restored to perfection. It was obviously well cared for. He wonders briefly the story behind it being as he doubts you could buy such a car these days. This was the kind of car that you handed down.

The window rolls down just as Jake approaches it.

"How's it goin' Officer?"

Jake blinks.

The driver is a younger guy, probably close to his own age— Jake likes to think that thirty-one is still plenty young— with shoulders so broad that it's a wonder he even fits in the front seat. His skin is a dark olive, which is pretty typical for someone who lives around here, but what catches Jake's attention the most is the perfectly groomed mustache the guy is sporting on his upper lip. It's thick and matches the caramel color of his otherwise brunette head of hair.

"Is there something wrong?"

The guy smiles and his dusty rose lips frame his perfectly aligned white teeth.

Jake tells himself it's his job to notice these kinds of things.

Jake clears his throat and leans in to peer into the cab of the truck, doing his best to avoid the lingering stare of the guy's warm hazel eyes. When he's satisfied that there's nothing worthy of his immediate attention in the car, Jake focuses back on him.

"Can I get your license and registration?"

It takes him a moment of fumbling around in his glove box and then his pocket, but he hands both documents over. The guy watches him so intently while Jake reads over them that it almost makes him uncomfortable, and he's glad for the excuse to look away.

"You had much to drink tonight, Bradley?" Jake asks as his eyes skim over the name. Bradley Peter Bradshaw. He almost laughs. If Jake didn't know better, he'd think it was a fake.

Jake knows the answer before he asks it but he figures he'll give him the benefit of the doubt for now. He doesn't necessarily reek of alcohol but Jake can defiantly pick up the fermented smell of yeast on his breath. If the guy hadn't been staring at him so intently and Jake could look at him for longer than two seconds, he's sure his pupils would be dilated as well.

"Just a little, Officer. I'm sobered up now."

Jake has to hold back his disbelieving snort. If he had a dime for every time he heard that, he'd be rich. "Well, Bradley. I find that a little hard to believe. You were all over this back road here. You know you're only supposed to drive on the right side, right?"

Bradley's mouth twitches, as if he found Jake's comment more amusing rather than condescending. "I didn't, but I'll sure take your word for it."

Jake, on the other hand, doesn't share his humor. "You seem like a funny guy, Bradley. But unfortunately, I don't find drunk driving to be very funny."

And then his eyes land on the emblem on Bradley's navy blue t-shirt—N.I.F.D. —the one his swollen biceps are nearly bursting out of.

"You work for North Island Fire Department?"

Jake watches as Bradley's slightly drunk grin widens. "I sure do."

Jake hands him back his license and the rest of his paperwork. "I've got a couple friends down at the station. You know Trace, Fitch?"

If his pupils weren't already blown wide, Jake would say they lit up in recognition. "Yeah, actually. Natasha is the one who got me the job there. I just finished a deployment out in the Pacific."

It's then that Jake notices the dog tags looped around his thick neck and hidden beneath his shirt. "You're enlisted," Jake says aloud, and then to conceal his surprise follows with, "I was too."

That's the kind of thing that you do when you're eighteen and more scared of not living than dying. If anything it was exciting. Anything that meant getting the hell out of Texas was exciting. He misses it now, but at the time when he was standing alone in that recruiters office, he didn't think for a moment that he would. He felt like a man.

The navy made him a man, is what his daddy said. It was probably one of the only times the old bastard ever told him he was proud of him, and the only time he didn't feel bad for making his mama cry.

The reason he got out was for the reason most do. You realize you don't stay twenty forever and life doesn't wait around until you figure that out. He didn't want to retire one day and have nothing to come home to but an empty apartment. San Diego seemed as good of a place to settle down as any.

Javy's voice crackles through on the radio strapped to his chest, breaking up their conversation.

"Unit-16. Checking in on your traffic stop. You need back-up?"

He hadn't realized they'd been talking so long. Jake mentally reprimands himself for getting distracted and picks up the radio while pressing it to his mouth. "This is Unit-16. No back-up necessary. Over."

"10-4. Over."

Jake releases the radio and looks back up to Bradley. Get back on task, Jake. Bradley smiles coyly at him. Jesus, focus, Jake.

"Sir, I'm going to need you to step out the vehicle."

The hopeful look in Bradley's big hazel eyes falters.

"Look, Officer uh— " The Bradley leans towards his open window so that he can squint at the gold engraved name plate on Jake's uniform. "—Seresin." Jake watches as his tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip before he cocks his head a little to the side and smiles, looking up at Jake. "You look good."

Oh. Oh.

That's what this is all about.

It's then that Jake realizes that this guy has been flirting him the entire time. He'll admit it's not the first time someone's hit on him while on the clock. Jake is aware he's an attractive guy, it's just that this is the first time he's been tasked with turning down at very handsome, drunk stranger. But drunk or not, the compliment makes his cheeks burn. Jake prays that the red and blue lights of his cruiser are enough to conceal the way his face flushes.

Ignoring him, Jake grabs the door handle of the Bronco and tugs it open. "C'mon, pal. Outta the car."

A little begrudgingly, Bradley slowly steps out of the car. Jake doesn't miss the way he grabs onto the door to steady himself.

Now that he's out of the car and in the beam of his headlights, Jake gets a good look at him. Bradley is over six feet of lean tan muscle. His long legs are encased in blue jeans that fit a bit too snug around his narrow waist, but from there he only gets wider all the way up to his shoulders. He's got some height on Jake and if he weren't in shape himself, Jake would probably be a little intimidated.

Jake steps up to him. "Go ahead and turn around for me. Put your hands flat on the hood."

For a moment Jake thinks he isn't going to listen, but then Bradley smirks a little and does as he's told. "Normally I'd ask you to buy me dinner first, but whatever you say, Officer."

This time Jake is glad that he's turned around. He steps forward and uses one of his feet to knock Bradley's legs a little further apart so that he can pat him down. He's not surprised to find that there's nothing on him, but he always has to check.

"Are you always this forward, Bradley? Or just when you're drunk?"

"No, sir," Bradley promises him, refusing to flinch even as Jake's hands come dangerously close to his crotch. "Just when the officer is nice to look at."

Jake pulls away as Bradley turns around. He specifically remembers telling him to keep his hands flat on the cruiser but Jake is getting the impression that Bradley doing something that could hurt either one of them isn't something he needs to worry about so he lets it go. Typically a stupid decision but he trusts his gut.

Bradley leans back just slightly to prop himself up against the car and crosses his arms in front of his chest while giving Jake a smile. His big brown eyes are warm and dopey, his smile impish.

"You gonna cut me some slack?" he asks.

Habitually, Jake curls his fingers through the front of his belt. The familiar weight of his kevlar vest is heavy and comforting and somehow he finds that it settles his fluttering heart in his chest.

"You know it's considered an offense to flirt with an officer?" Jake tells him, trying to remain professional and stand his ground. If his eyes drop to observe the way the other man's pecks fill out his t-shirt, that's his business.

Bradley smiles, ducking his head a little abashedly. Jake doesn't miss the way his teeth release the pout of his bottom lip. "Does that apply to when you're off duty as well?"

Jake pokes his tongue into the side of his cheek to keep from smiling. It's not funny, and he shouldn't be flattered by the advances of a drunk stranger but he is. And maybe he does have some sympathy for the guy. He knows what it's like coming back to the states and trying to adjust back to civilian life. But that doesn't mean that he's above the law.

"Bradley," he begins, his voice firm but sympathetic. "You know you can't be driving around like this. As much as I'd like to, I can't let you go."

As far as he's concerned, Bradley doesn't seem to be hearing him at all.

"Y'know, of all the places I imagined myself being handcuffed, none of them were in the back of a cop car."

"Jesus Christ," Jake mutters, his hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose. Really, he has no words. "Okay, that's enough," he announces, giving up on getting Bradley to actually take this seriously. "Turn around for me."

Smiling as if feeling a little too pleased with himself, Bradley obediently shuffles around so that Jake can then walk up behind him and clasp his wrists together. He uses his other hand to retrieve his cuffs from his belt and clips them on.

They're a little tight but that's only because Bradley's broad shoulders prevent his wrists from fully meeting, his shoulder blades seemingly obstructed by the wide expanse of his back.

Jake is definitely not staring. 

If the cuffs are uncomfortable, Bradley doesn't say anything, and Jake walks him by one of his elbows to the cruiser.

"Watch your head," Jake instructs him as he opens the door for Bradley to step in. It's a tight fit but somehow he manages, scooting over the seat until he's sat in the middle, his long legs spread to either side in order to accommodate them. The denim of his jeans strain at the awkwardness of the angle and gives Jake a front row view of the bugle of his crotch.

Jake clears his throat, looking away. If it were for the fact that he was drunk, Jake would say he's doing it on purpose.

Before Jake can shut the door and leave with what little is left of his self preservation, Bradley's voice stops him.

"Wait, what about my car?"

When Jake leans down to poke his head into the backseat of the cruiser, the look on Bradley's face is actually concerned. That's a first, Jake thinks. "I'll call someone to tow it. It'll be impounded until you can come and pick it up from the station." When the worry on Bradley's face only increases, his mustache emphasizing the action, he follows with, "They'll take good care of it for you, I promise."

Bradley's eyes flicker to the old Bronco anxiously. "It's just that it's my dad's car. He, um, he died when I was a kid. So, y'know..." he explains, trailing off.

Of fucking course it is.

Jake sighs, hangs his head in defeat for a second, and then looks back into the car at Bradley. "Look, I'll make a deal with you. Promise me we won't meet like this again and I won't have them tow your car. You can just come get it in the morning."

Bradley grins. "Well I'd certainly like to meet you under different circumstances."

Jake slams the door shut.

The drive back into town is quiet. When he glances at the clock on his dashboard, he realizes he only has about an hour left to his shift. As he pulls into the little suburban neighborhood, having memorized the address on Bradley's license, he glances into the backseat through his rear view mirror.

At first he thinks that Bradley's knocked out in the backseat, head lulled back as he breathes slow and steady, but then he sees the whites of his hazel eyes illuminated by the occasional red and blue flash of his overhead lights. Their gazes meet through the mirror and the corner of Bradleys mouth lifts up in a half drunk smile. Jake shifts his gaze away to instead peer at the numbers on the houses. Finally he finds the address he's looking for and slows the cruiser as he pulls into the driveway.

He brings the car to a stop and slides out of the driver's seat, walking around the car to open up the side door. Bradley stares at him quizzically from the backseat.

"C'mon, hop out before I change my mind," Jake prompts, gesturing with his head for Bradley to get a move on. The tall brunette climbs out with as much ease as one can muster in a pair of handcuffs before he's once again standing face to face with Jake.

He's on the downside of his drunken stupor, more sleepy than buzzed if his drooping eyelids are anything to go by. His mustache lifts as he smiles down at Jake. It's still ridiculous looking but it makes more sense now that Jake knows his occupation. It's the only type of facial hair that's considered to be within regs.

Jake clears his throat. "You want me to take those off?" he asks, motioning towards the cuffs holding Bradley's hands behind his back.

"I might do something stupid if you do."

Jake freezes. "What?"

Before he knows it Bradley's kissing him. He connects their mouths with surprising ease. It's so smooth and he moves relatively quickly for someone who's mildly intoxicated that Jake doesn't even see it coming. Between Jake's surprise and Bradley's lack of hands, they're a bit top heavy and Jake has to fist the front of Bradley's t-shirt, his back hitting the side of the cruiser, to keep them from toppling over.

Bradley's mouth is warm, his lips pliant and soft, but he's firm in the kiss, unrelenting in the way that Jake couldn't have pulled away even if he wanted to.

He doesn't want to— he does— but he doesn't want to.

When he comes to his senses, Jake flattens a palm against Bradley's chest and shoves him away. Immediately his chest aches at the distance. He stands there, still half shocked, with his palm holding Bradley away at arm's length.

Really, he's not too sure what to do in this situation.

Bradley’s hazel eyes shine in amusement. He doesn’t even have the decency to look ashamed.

Again Jake clears his throat. "Ahem— um, glad you got that out of your system," he says with a pat to Bradley's chest. And before anything else can occur, he swiftly steps around the other man and uncuffs his wrists.

Bradley groans in relief, bringing his hands in front of him to rub at his sore wrists. “I think your bondage play needs some work. Not that I’m complaining—”

“Go inside. Get some sleep, Bradley.”

Taking the not so subtle hint, Bradley straightens and fixes Jake with a mocking salute before he turns and makes him way to the front porch. He watches as Bradley unlocks the front door and turns to give him one last look before he steps inside.

“Until next time, Officer Seresin.”

Jake just shakes his head in disapproval, but he can’t disguise his smile. “There better not be a next time,” he calls up the driveway.

He doesn’t pull out the driveway until Bradley’s shut the door and he sees the porch lights flicker off.

Maybe he does like the night shift.

[nurse-floyd]

The Top Gun/ 911 Crossover no one asked for (well…maybe @vivwritesfics did 👀)

Don’t be a dick and repost!

[ddejavvu]

Hii Mei hope u had a lovely day what would be your thoughts on firefighter rooster for mvm??

firefighter!rooster poses for one of those calendars, but he only has one copy made, and it's yours for the holidays. you have to keep it somewhere private though, because it's a personal gift instead of a mass-produced sold-in-stores type deal, so it is very raunchy.. <3

[lovableapocalypse]

went in the fire truck at a halloween event and all i could think about was a firefighter au 😭

[sugarcoated-lame]

firefighter Bradley who jokes about spanking you for leaving a candle unattended while you’re in another room, and then makes good on his joke when he sees your eyes get big and your thighs clench together (I imagine the punishment comes with a side of condescension and a touch of degradation, maybe a tiny bit of name calling?)

“I’m don’t want to keep telling you about this stuff, baby. Do you know how many—“ He’s exasperated, having worked overtime this week and now come over to your place to find that you still can’t seem to listen to his basic guidance on keeping safe.

“I know, I know — unattended candles.” You scoff, rubbing at your temples as you sit at the end of your bed. You’ve had an equally long week and aren’t really looking for a lecture. Still, your attitude is a little snippy.

“I’m serious!” Bradley frowns at you. He exhales, not looking for an argument and deciding to put a light-hearted spin on the situation. “Come on, what do I have to do to get it through that pretty head of yours? — Put you over my knee?”

You look up at him through your lashes, a look in your eyes that he recognises and has seen many times. More discreetly, you press your thighs together at the thought. He still notices.

“Oh, you like that?” Bradley queries, his tone rich and deep as he walks towards you. “That’s it, then. I’ll put you over my knee and turn that pretty ass red ‘til you can finally start listening to me. How’s that sound?”

The only thing that leaves you mouth is a desperate, needy little whine that has him scoffing at you. He sits at the end of your bed and bends you harshly over his lap, pushing your skirt up out of the way. You gasp, jolting as he delivers the first smack to your bare ass.

Two, three, four more and then a gasping moan falls from your lips.

“Now, what are you going to do from now on, honey?”

You whimper, pushing back against him as his palm rubs against your hot skin, then delivers another warm blow.

“Listen to you.”

“That’s right. Tell me why.” Bradley instructs, pressing his fingers into your plush core over the fabric of your thin underwear, watching your excitement saturate the material.

“Because you — ah, because you care about me and want to keep me safe.” You stutter, legs trembling and your ass stinging as he smacks you twice more.

“Oh, good girl.” Bradley coos, soothing over the skin for a moment. “See? — I knew you knew how to listen. So, tell me, why did you decide that you knew better than me earlier?”

“Ah — fuck, because I’m dumb.” You whimper out, fingers trembling as you try tp stop from needing to touch yourself, already so worked up.

“Right again, my smart girl.” Bradley leans down and presses his lips to your warm, sensitive ass cheek. “Couple more, baby. Then I’ll take care of you.”

[squiddosss]

remember this AU? it lives in my brain and haunts me every day now

[puppy923]

.

[the-ace-with-spades]

I'm giving Ice a heart attack (the literal kind) in one of my fics and now I've got the urge to make Mav have a stroke in a different fic

[flowery-mess]

WINGS AND EMBERS

series masterlist

Bradley Bradshaw x firefighter f!reader

Summary: There is a fire at the Top Gun base, no one knows how that happened, but everyone hopes Bob and Phoenix can make it through. Bradley’s mind is going crazy, thinking about how he can’t lose another person, his best friend and partner in crime. Fire fighters are called to the scene, arriving just in time to contain the fire from spreading more. And you are one of them. You recently got stationed at Station 16 in San Diego. You didn’t mind the moving, you were actually happy for a new start. You work for the fire department, crisis management to be exact. That means 90% of your work is papers, updating the crisis plans, educating others, educating the public, doing fire safety controls. The rest looks like this, being part of the calls, if you are needed. Part of your job is to be familiar with big buildings, factories or any other important objects, and to know their possible risks. The naval base in San Diego is one of the places you should know, that’s why you’re on this call, in case there is evacuation needed or if it becomes risk for the citizens that live nearby. That’s why you make your way to the group of aviators who are watching the disaster, instead diving into the fire. That’s when Bradley’s eyes lay on you. And that’s when it all begins.

Chapter one

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My new story coming out soon. The plan is one shot, but we will see where the story will take us.

If you want to be tagged when I publish it, let me know.

[whohasthecards]

Hangster AU -- Firefighter Bradley & Best Buy Employee/Aviator Jake

AU where Bradley is a firefighter and Jake is still an aviator. Jake is on a long leave, probably because of the mission, and he takes another job to pass the time. He works at Best Buy.

Bradley comes to Best Buy to buy something, he's still in uniform, so Jake knows where he works at. And they snark at one another, but Jake manages to throw the box of what Bradley needs at him, smirking all the time.

---

"Can we stop debating the merits of 10 different wires and connectors and just give me the box, please," Bradley said exasperated as he held a hand out for the box this Ken doll was holding.

"Sure, here, catch," Jake said shrugging throwing the box lightly at him. "No need to get as red as your fire truck."

Bradley groans, rolls his eyes, and walks away. He was never wearing his fire department shirt in public ever again.

---

Bradley put his keys on in his bronco. And turn it. Engine sputtering.

"Oh come on," Bradley muttered, moustache twitching.

He stepped down again on the brake and clutch, twisting the key. Nada. Bradley groaned and hit his head on the steering wheel wondering who the fuck to call.

He jumped when he heard a knock at the window, seeing Ken doll, looking sympathetic.

He opened the door.

"Need a jump?" Ken-doll asked.

Bradley, sighed, "Yes please."

"Give me a sec to bring my car over."

"Thank you." ---

"Man, you've been having issues with the lights and radio, too? But you just replaced the bulbs, right?"

Bradley deeply sighed and rubbed the space between his eyes, "Yeah."

"That's fucked up, man, good luck, better bring it to the shop for the wiring."

"No comment on the wires on this one?"

"Car wiring is a whole another thing I ain't gonna touch, too much of a headache for me," Ken-doll said, flicking the toothpick in his mouth to the side.

"How do you know so much about wires, anyways? You work with it a lot at Best Buy?" Bradley said going back inside his truck to try to start it.

"Nah, not really, I studied engineering, and my other job. You pick some stuff up along the way."

"You studied engineering and you work at Best Buy!?" Bradley said fingers slipping from the ignition.

"Anything wrong with that?" Ken-doll said, raising a brow.

"No, I mean-- Oh look the car's starting," Bradley said flustered. "Thank you, man, I'm Bradley Bradshaw by the way, incase you need anything, I'm by the fire station." Bradley said holding out his hand.

"It's Jake, and if you need anything from electronic goods to repair, come to Best Buy for a wonderful service," Jake said shaking his hand and winking.

"Should add auto-repair to that slogan."

---

A series of events caused them to meet again. And they hit it off, go one dates and all that.

Jake likes listening to Bradley's stories about his job, and Jake tells him about some crazy customers he had to deal with.

Bradley never asked about Jake's previous job/other job, and Jake,,, forgot.

---

One day, Bradley's station gets a call for a jet having to do an emergency crash landing. And they have to make sure that the area is clear and be prepared for anything that might happen. If the pilot gets stuck or something gets lit on fire.

And they're listening in on the radio with the pilot and pilot's instructor telling him what to do. Calm, steady, smooth, and knowledgeable.

Familiar.

They arrive on scene, get the pilot out, and the instructor comes eventually in a rush.

"Is my pilot, okay?" A familiar voice asked.

"Yeah, we're getting him checked out at the hospital, nothing severe."

He hears the man sigh, "Good."

The man turns the corner, and his eyes flickered to Bradley for a moment, before focusing back on the fire captain.

"I'm Lieutenant Commander Seresin, thank you for helping during this incident."

---

"You work in the Navy!?"

"Yeaahhh--"

"You didn't tell me!?"

"I forgot!"

A pause.

"Also does the team know we're dating?"

"The station? No, why?"

"Wanna mess with them?"

"I'm listening."

[sunlightmurdock]

Trick or Treat! | Firefighter Bradley

spookweek masterlist | firefighter bradley masterlist

Prompt: handing out candy | joining firefighter!bradley at the station to hand out candy to the neighbourhood kids!

warnings: pet names babe / baby, no use of y/n. .word count: 0.7k

Your heels clack along the walkway, past the clumsily carved, flickering Jack-o’-Lanterns. Ghosts with jagged edges and wide smiling faces with wonky eyes, all courtesy of the gang at Station 86.

Your lips twist, almost a smile, finding the precise attempt at a mustache’d face along the left row. Just then, you hear your name from across the lot. The classic red doors of Station 86 are pulled wide open, and Bradley is hustling his way towards you from the back.

“Baby, you made it!” His arms are loaded up with those giant bags of Halloween candy, the largest you can get. As his mouth stretches into a grin, you can see that there’s something different about his usual smile.

He drops the Halloween candy, still bagged up, onto the large fold-out table where two of his buddies sit and continues his path toward you.

“Are those fangs?” You wrinkle your nose, taking in the usual things you find most enjoyable — those fitted pants and the blue of his tight t-shirt against his tanned skin, the red of his suspenders straining against his thick shoulders — and the oversized plastic fangs in his mouth.

He beams, nodding his head as he reaches for you. “What, you don’t like them?”

Next comes the dive forwards, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist and securing you to him as he gnashes the stupid silicone fangs against your neck playfully.

Just as his wandering hand creeps towards your ass, he catches a glance at his next round of trick-or-treaters rushing along the sidewalk toward the station.

“Thanks for coming, babe. Here,” He presses a soft kiss to your cheek and ushers you towards the fold-out table, acknowledging his colleagues. “We’ve got it from here, guys.”

He had told you it would be fine if you had wanted to head home after work. His shift finishes at nine, and then he’s all yours for four days — starting tonight with a scary movie marathon. But, for now you’re happy to share him with the rest of the neighborhood.

Superheroes, ghosts and witches bounce along the walkway with grins on their faces, calling out your boyfriend’s name. With the class field trips to the station, and the station’s regular trips to the school, Bradley has plenty of pint-sized admirers.

Up in front of the mob are two first graders, sprinting ahead while their mothers chat behind.

“Not you two again!” Bradley mocks disgust, wrinkling his face in abject disapproval as two girls, one wrapped in toilet paper and the other wearing a bedsheet with eye holes in, rush him, plastic buckets for candy in hand. They giggle through their costumes as they come to a halt in front of him, looking up at the towering man. Their class had visited the day before yesterday, and the siren had frightened the two of them so bad that Bradley had broken out the Halloween candy a little early. “What do we have here? — A ghost and a…?”

“I’m a mummy!” She declares excitedly, waving her bucket at him.

“You’re a what?” He paints on his best look of fear and takes a dramatic step backwards, earning himself another round of giggles from the two girls. “What brings you all the way out here, little Mummy?”

“Candy!” Her friend answers for her, which they both find equally hilarious.

Bradley settles to his knees, keeping up the dramatics as more children crowd around him. He’s a natural, having them bursting into fits of laughter as he hands out chocolates and lollipops and other small bags of sugar-coated goodies.

You’ve been down to the station plenty of times, and been involved in plenty of events with them. This has always been more than a job to him, and you know he’s proud of what he does — you’re proud too.

But, even after all this time, there’s something about the fact that all of the neighborhood kids not only know his name, but clearly adore him so much, has you grinning as you help him pass out treats.

He catches you, draping a heavy arm around your shoulders during a rare break between herds of kids. Turning his face towards yours, he kisses the top of your head softly.

“Really, thanks for coming — I love having you here.” He murmurs, squeezing softly at your shoulder. “We’re about finished. You have a movie in mind for us to start with once we’re home?”

Just something scary, you think, already looking forward to the comfort of hiding your face in his chest and pretending that you can’t hear his heart beating just as fast as yours.

…