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bradshawsbitch · 2 years ago

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halo effect | bradley bradshaw x reader

PLEASE, heed these warnings. this is porn without plot, 18+ only, minors absolutely do NOT interact!!

disclaimer; this came about after an unhinged convo with @whoreforseresin thank you sofi!!! this is just a smidge dark. hyper realism(?).

Bradley is in his late thirties/early forties. daddy.

this one goes out to all us fatherless girlies 🫶

plot: Commander Bradshaw is content with his job as a Top Gun instructor and mentor, and very careful to never abuse his power...

word count; 2.8K.

warnings; female reader, afab, daddy kink, ddlg, abuse of power, power imbalance, naval inaccuracies, condescencion, dumbification, sub space, ass play, spit kink, creampie, p in v, unprotected sex, hair pulling, spanking, dry sex, size kink(?), rank kink(?), uhhhh rooster has a huge cock we been knew.

tagging people who might like; @notroosterbradshaw @roosterforme @mak-32 @roleycoleyreccenter @lewmagoo @rhettabbotts @hangmanapologist @hangmanbrainrot @sebsxphia @roosterbruiser @theharddeck @gretagerwigsmuse @mothdruid @laracrofted @sunlightmurdock @topguncortez

Nothing could have prepared Rooster for this situation. For how he had so easily fallen into skewed morals and excuses. After climbing the ranks and being honored to come on as an instructor for Top Gun as he neared his forties, Bradley felt comfortable in the choices he’d made, the views he had - and he felt very strongly about right and wrong, and not abusing the power he held as a higher ranking officer than some of his pupils.

Commander Bradshaw was still flying most days, spending countless hours researching and learning more of new technology, working closely with engineers and lecturing and offering advice to those attending his lectures. Just recently, he’d been assigned a trainee, a woman in her mid to late twenties, who’d finished up at Top Gun just the year before. That’s where it had started.

In the beginning, she’d been like any other colleague, and Rooster had been careful to treat her as he would any other individual he was the responsible supervisor for. He was supposed to help her in her path to becoming an instructor, just like himself. She was sharp. Witty, and always had a quick mouth - something that had gotten her into some trouble with him in the beginning. She was used to taking up space unapologetically, and that, Rooster admired immensely.

Now though, as he had her bent over his desk with her flight suit pooled by her ankles, her soft gasps spilling from parted lips, Rooster wondered briefly if he was abusing his position of power over her. He’d of course noticed the way her eyes twinkled, the way she bit her lip and seemed so eager to please her superior officer and mentor. How she’d lightheartedly flirted, and how he had done nothing to stop it. In fact, he’d found himself winking at her when their eyes met across the room.

Something he knew she thought he did with everyone to check in on them - she was however proven wrong when Rooster had begun to inch closer to her when they were in conversation, towering over her, letting his boot knock with hers, his hand brush close to her body as he reached for a folder.

She was intoxicating though, and Rooster was only a man after all, with her soft curves and fucking incredible tits… it was difficult not to get affected when she reacted so strongly to his subtle flirtations.

She had come into his office late one night, asking questions after a grueling day of flight training and offering her advice on her research. That night she had seemed so high strung, a slight whine and breathlessness to her voice as she spoke “Commander Bradshaw…” as she entered the room, brows furrowed, eyes misty with frustration as she showed him a passage that was underlined heavily in her book.

“I– I don’t, fuck, it doesn’t make any sense when compared to the F-35, sir–” Bradley could only let the softest of smiles grace his lips as his hand moved on its own accord, reaching up to let the back of his hand stroke her cheek softly.

“Shh, calm down… relax,” his voice was steady and deep, intending to halt her in her stressed out spiral. What he didn’t anticipate was the soft whimper that would leave her at his touch, her head falling forward slightly as her breath hitched in her throat.

“Is there something the matter, Lieutenant?” Bradley raised a brow, a small smirk on his face as he braved up, letting his palm slide to grip her chin, eliciting another gasp from her plump parted lips.

“Are you high strung, Lieutenant?” Rooster purred, and was rewarded by her soft, compliant noise, brows furrowed and breathing labored as she nodded pitifully against his palm.

“Aw, do you need your Commander to help you relax a little?” nodding again, Rooster let himself sit back in his office chair, legs spread, inviting her to straddle him if she so pleased.

With a soft moan she sank down, her hands quickly gripping his shoulders as her legs encompassed his hips, toes barely gracing the floor, putting her weight right on top of his stirring cock. Another soft whimper left her lips, followed by a pout “Commander Bradshaw…” Rooster let his large hands grip her hips, his lips slowly exploring the exposed skin of her neck as she mewled softly at his touch. Hips swiveling slowly down against his hardening cock.

“Shh, baby… I’ll guide you through this, I’ll help you out,” Bradley murmured against her neck as he helped her grind her clothed cunt against him.

“Fuck, you feel so fucking good already, baby,” her soft moan urged him on, gripping her hips tighter and fucking up into her core. The friction of her clothed pussy against the underside of his cock felt heavenly, and as his khaki uniform trousers tented, he felt his swollen tip catch against her surely soaked core… he was so close, felt his cockhead sink just slightly… just what the fabric of their uniforms would allow. He cursed softly under his breath, which had picked up considerably as his trainee bounced on his lap, sighing and gasping as she felt his hard cock stimulate her sensitive clit.

“Please, Rooster–” small hands grasped at his shirt, his hair, his shoulders - needy for more “please, fuck me, I need you so bad,” looking into her eyes, he saw that she did need him. Needed him perhaps more than he originally thought. There was a vulnerability in her gaze that made his cock twitch, a trust there, and an innocent need to please him - that paired with her soft cry as she came had Rooster shooting his load in his pants, grunting hard as they kissed sloppily for the first time.

And so it had progressed. Rooster had never met a woman like her, had never met anyone who was willing to put their trust in him as she did. She trusted him to care for her, to see to her safety and wellbeing - not only in their line of work, but sexually too. She followed his lead, so deliciously submissive and pliant, hanging on to his every word. They’d discussed it all of course after that first time, when Rooster had spotted that glint, that misty, faraway look in her eye - the one that made him suspect she desperately needed to let go… to slip away. To be taken care of.

So now, a half year down the line, he had her bent over his desk, her soft mewls still filling his otherwise silent office. “Roos–” she whined, before receiving a harsh spank to her ass as Bradley dragged his cock between her slick asscheeks. He’d made a point of spreading her slick, letting his own spit slowly drip from his mouth, reveling in the way her body spasmed as it unexpectedly came into contact with her tight hole, dribbling slowly down to her puffy cunt.

“Look at you, so pretty… what do you need, baby?” Rooster was cooing, letting his palm soothe the sting it had just landed on her ass, kneading and separating her cheeks just to see how her holes were clenching around nothing in anticipation of his cock.

“D-daddy!” fuck, how he loved when she called him that. A growl rumbled deep within his chest as he brought his hand up to fist her hair, roughly pulling her against his broad chest.

“You want daddy to fuck this tight litte pussy of yours?” he gritted out through clenched teeth, biting down on her earlobe as she whined and squirmed against his strong hold. “Need this needy little cunt to be filled with daddys cock?” gasping and whining, she nodded, a pitiful whimper leaving her as her chest heaved rapidly.

“Tell me. Tell me you want to be filled to the brim with my cum.” Bradley commanded, one hand roughly grasping her tit, pinching her pebbled nipple before palming it again.

“Please, please… daddy– need y’to fill.. my needy little pussy,” she gasped as Roosters thick fingers delved into her slick folds, drawing sharp, tight circles on her clit, before letting his fingers slip into her to prepare her for him “w-want your hot cum so– so deep in me.. oh fuck, Rooster!”

“Mm, good girl… so good for your daddy, is that it?” she nodded, almost sobbing as his fingers retracted from her fluttering pussy, only to sob in relief as he shoved the same fingers into her mouth, her tongue eagerly swirling around them, and those pretty lips suckling him so good.

“You’re being so good baby, asking so nicely for daddy’s cock,” he was cooing now, something he knew made her eyes roll back into her head, body almost going limp against his hold as her breath hitched.

Slowly, he lowered her back down to his desk, her bare chest resting against the wood, legs spread for him. Letting the tip of his cock slowly drag up and down her folds, parting them and gently letting it prod at her entrance, she whimpered again. Rooster groaned softly as he looked at how the head of his cock slowly sank in, just the tip, before he withdrew again - over and over, letting her clenching opening create delicious pleasure around his sensitive cockhead.

Moaning softly, he withdrew slowly to push in a bit deeper, reveling in the way her desperate moans fell more frequently now, hips rutting back against his cock to try to fuck herself onto his cock. It was honestly adorable.

Strong hands gripped her hips “Gotta stay still for me baby, daddy decides when you’re ready to take it all,” his voice was stern, and now he could see tears glittering in her eyes as she let out a small sob, one that made his heart clench just a little in his chest. “Aw, baby, shhh, I’ll give it to you, daddy’s here - don’t you worry, I’ll take care of you sweet thing,” he murmured as he fucked his cock slowly deeper and deeper, withdrawing slightly before fucking himself closer and closer to the hilt of his cock.

“Taking it so well, honey… fuck, look at you… look so pretty with my cock buried so deep in your needy cunt,” Rooster again let his spit slowly drip onto her hole, and he felt her pussy hug his cock a little tighter as it made contact with her skin, a broken moan tumbling from her lips as she repeated the words “daddy” over and over again.

“That’s it, baby - let go for me… I’ll take care of you,” he murmured, fucking into her in a steady rhythm, his palms squeezing and kneading her asscheeks, his thumb gently swirling his spit around her tight hole, making her chest heave and gasps and whimpers fell closer and closer together as he stretched her with his cock.

“Fuck, baby - you’d look so pretty with a cute little plug in that tight ass of yours… gotta fuck you when you’re all filled to the brim… you’d like that, wouldn’t you honey? Stuffed so full?” he was cooing again, heart warming at her little nod against the wood beneath her cheek. Rooster could see the streaks of tears that had fallen down those cute little cheeks, and saw a soft glimmer on the wood, which he realized must be a small pooling of her drool.

Throwing his head back, his cock stirred inside her plush cunt at the sight of her drooling for his fucking cock “Fuck, baby! You have no idea what you do to me, do you?” he groaned as he sped up, his fat cockhead brushing against her spot over and over again, drawing high pitched whines and sobs from her form.

“Answer me.” he growled, letting his palm gently swat at her asscheek “No, daddy! Don’t–” god, this fucking brilliant girl, smart as all hell, had just yesterday talked him through advanced aerodynamics, was fucked so dumb by his cock.

“Too much of a dumb baby huh? My dumb little slut,” Rooster sounded just a bit condescending, letting his thumb swipe away some of the drool that had gathered by the corner of her pretty lips. A pout was forming as she nodded obediently “Your dumb little baby slut, daddy,” she didn’t even make sense, Rooster looked at her with pity as he drove deeper and deeper into her.

“You’re so pretty like this, sweetheart, so dumb for me,” only gasps was leaving you now as Roosters grip on your hips tightened, fucking into you deeper and harder, almost lifting you clean off the floor to get a deeper angle, driving your hips to meet his thrusts as he felt that familiar tightening in his lower abdomen, could feel his balls tightening with the need to spill deep into your welcoming heat.

“Daddy I’m– gon’-- oh, s-so good, please, please,” you were babbling incoherently, but Bradley knew you were close, could feel your fluttering walls. Every time he made you cum from penetration alone, he felt on top of the fucking world.

“Please fuck me fuck me fuck– don’t stop, oh god, Rooster don’t stop, please - keep fucking me so good, I’m gonna cum so hard on your cock, please— oh! I love your cock daddy, fuck, I love– I– please cum in me Sir, please I’ve been so good please let me have your load” you were sobbing, eyes rolling back in your head as Bradley’s harsh, deep thrust picked up speed, thick head repeatedly hitting that sweet spot over and over as he slammed your hips back against his thrusts, your feet now off the floor as he had your hips and ass in a tight grip against his cock.

“Cum for me, baby, daddy’s gonna fill you up so good,” Rooster growled, throwing his head back as he felt you tip over the edge, creaming on his cock with a drawn out string of moans, intertwined with ‘daddy’ and what sounded like ‘thank you’.

Bradley himself drove harder into you, speeding up and fucking you through your orgasm, eyes transfixed on the way his cock moved in and out of your cunt, seeing it become wetter, a ring of your creamy cum settling against his base. The sight was enough for Bradley to stutter his hip, driving deep, hips flush with your ass as he twitched and shot his warm load deep into your fluttering pussy, hips jerking slightly to grind it deeper into you.

Grunting loudly, Bradley stayed with his softening cock buried deep within you as he caught his breath. Your upper body was still pressed against the desktop, and Bradley gently slipped out of you before he gathered you in his strong arms, shushing you softly as you nuzzled your face into his neck, his scent soothing you.

“Did so good for me baby, felt so fuckin incredible… are you okay, sweet thing?” Bradley was stroking your hair, kissing your forehead and making sure his arms were wound tight around you, wanting you to feel safe and cared for.

“Feel so good, daddy…” you murmured against his skin, pawing softly at his bare chest whilst nuzzling even closer into his neck, making him smile. “You’re so good to me, baby, sweetest girl I know,” Bradley murmured softly, gently guiding you to the sofa situated against one of the walls of his home office, where he laid you down, before rising.

“Where you going?” you pouted as he moved to retrieve some water and a snack from his nearby stash. “Shh, baby, just want to care of my baby love, okay? Getting us some nice drinks, some wipes so I can clean you up real good okay, honey?” he spoke slow and soft, and a soft little smile played on your lips, eyes still a little dazed and hazy as you nodded.

“Good girl,” Bradley praised as he came back, cleaning you up and helping you drink and have a little something to eat before he again wrapped you up in his arms, letting you settle against his chest, where he could feel you leaving kisses as you sighed happily.

“Love you, babygirl,” Bradley murmured, kissing the top of your head.

“Luv you, Roos,” you murmured back as your eyes drifted closed. Bradley was well aware that he shouldn’t have started this all of those months ago, and maybe he had abused his influence as your mentor and instructor… but fuck, it felt so good. Felt so good to know you let him take care of you, relieve you of the stress of being one of the most brilliant women at Top Gun.

#a demon possessed me y'all i dont know #help #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw smut #smut #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #rooster x reader #rooster x you

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thedroneranger · 1 year ago

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1… 2… Mak is coming for you!

Check out @mak-32’s Rewind—it lands tomorrow!

Don’t forget our official tag is tgm be kind rewind!

The Drone Ranger's Be Kind Rewind ⏪ Masterlist

A rec reblog series dedicated to the fics that we love so much, we've re-read them!

The Top Gun fandom has been going strong for over a year, and while we continue to churn out amazing new content, let's be kind and rewind to look at some of the OG content we love!

And don't forget to reblog when you re-read! Continue to show your comfort fics and favorite creators some love. It helps keep the fresh content coming :)

Check out rec lists from your favorite creators and biggest fans!

blue-aconite

cassiemitchell

cherrycola27 ᴺᴱᵂ

chicomonks on deck

mak-32 �� launching soon

mayhemmanaged

roosterforme on deck

startrekfangirl2233

thedroneranger

If you're interested in participating in the Be Kind Rewind, message me! The more, the merrier—let's keep this going as long as we can!

You can also join the tag list here to know when a new list drops!

#top gun maverick #top gun #mak-32 #tgm be kind rewind

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mothdruid · 2 years ago

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🌹🌹🌹🌹

"A mythical bird?" You quietly asked. The text glared at you, racking the crevices of your brain.

"Like a Phoenix?" Amelia's playful tone cut through your thoughts.

Phoenix. Of course it was Phoenix. -Home for the Holidays, Bradley Bradshaw x reader

for every “🌹” received in my inbox i’ll post a snippet of a wip

#moth talk #abby answers #mak 32 #/mak #bradley bradshaw

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callsign-joyride · 28 days ago

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The Morning After | B.R.B

Summary: You wake Bradley up with a surprise the morning after his birthday. Kinktober day fourteen prompt: Somnophilia (prompt list from @bluestjayy) Content warnings: Somnophilia, oral sex (m receiving), mentions of getting drunk and puking, implied p in v sex

Buy me a coffee

This was something that you and Bradley had talked about before. Neither of you were particularly opposed to the idea of waking up to having sex, or to the other masturbating. And it had happened before. Bradley had told you in the past that he was okay with having sex while drunk, as long as you were okay with it, too, which made the night of his birthday particularly interesting.

Hangman wanted everyone to surprise Bradley at The Hard Deck. Of course, since it was his birthday, people kept on ordering him drinks. You only saw him pay for one drink, and it was for you. So, with everyone keeping a drink in his hand, it wasn’t a surprise to either of you that he got drunk. Bradley never really did anything super embarrassing while he was drunk, except for the time that he threw up on you and the floor of your parents’ basement after a Christmas party.

Tonight, though, he was trying to make moves on you. On any other night you’d be okay with it, but you already weren’t feeling well when he got home from work. You almost thought about cancelling on Hangman and the rest of the Dagger Squad, but it was important to them, and it was probably important to Bradley, too. You were quiet about the fact that you weren’t feeling well to everyone except for Bradley, because he needed to know that you weren’t in a sexy mood.

He had the next day off. Everyone did, but they were making jokes in the group chat that he pre-emptively took the day off knowing that he was going to get blasted the night before. You woke up before him, feeling much better than you did the night before, and took your vitamins before settling back into bed. The one thing preventing you from falling back asleep, though, was Bradley’s hard cock poking through his boxers and against your lower back. That gave you an idea. You were going to “make up” for what happened, or what didn’t happen the night before. It all pretty much worked in your favor, since Bradley was always a heavy sleeper, but especially after nights when he was drunk. You were easily able to work his underwear off without waking him, and he started to stir as you wrapped your hand around his cock and stroked it before licking your lips and wrapping your mouth around it.

Bradley woke up and sighed before gently placing his hand on the back of your head. You made eye contact and sat up, wiping the line of saliva with a tissue.

“Good morning,” he said.

“Good morning, birthday boy. I would’ve done this last night but, y’know…”

“There was something that I would’ve done to you last night. Ready?”

You chuckled as Bradley rolled you over and started to sloppily kiss down your neck.

Taglist:

@littlebadariell @cycbaby @luckyladycreator2 @idontcare-11 @blue-aconite @maverick-wingman @shawty-fenty @littlemisstopgun @rosiahills22 @katieshook02 @justanothermagicalsara @caitsymichelle13 @smoothdogsgirl @adoringsebstan @cherrycola27 @alexxavicry @mrsjaderogers @mak-32 @thefandomimagines @tallrock35 @caatheeriinee07 @bradshawseresinbabe @atarmychick007 @3sriracha @genius2050 @halstead-severide-fan @withakindheartx @Lolliepops2501 @avengersfan25 @genrockstar @kmc1989 @hiireadstuff @theforevermorereject

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#bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw #rooster smut #top gun maverick #rooster #rooster top gun #bradley bradshaw imagines #x reader #reader insert #top gun #bradley bradshaw smut

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roosterforme · 10 months ago

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Sneak Peek | Hangman x Reader

Summary: You spent so much time around the boys, they counted you as one of them. You were firmly stuck in the friend zone with Jake, so it was time to move on with a guy who could see past your flight suits. It's not immediately obvious to either of you that cranky Jake is actually jealous Jake.

Warnings: Fluff, language, mentioned smut, 18+

Length: 6000 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader

Happy birthday @beyondthesefourwalls!

Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Banner by @mak-32

"It's my turn to buy a round," you said, standing up from the table and grabbing the empty beer bottles before turning toward Jimmy and Penny at the bar.

"Thanks, Rodeo," Jake murmured, and you turned back briefly and smiled softly at him. His gaze slid down your body the same way it would with any other woman, the only difference was that he had started to notice just how many other guys were regularly checking you out, too. And he wasn't sure how he felt about that fact.

When you squeezed yourself between two stools at the bar to order four more beers, Bradley asked, "Who are you staring at, Hangman? Rodeo?"

Mickey laughed as Jake quickly shook his head and turned his attention back to his friends. "I just wanted to make sure she can manage carrying everything."

"I'm sure she's fine," Bradley replied with a laugh of his own. "I got a little nervous for a second there."

"Why?" Jake asked, his eyes slowly drifting back to you, watching as you slipped your credit card into the back pocket of your jeans.

"Because first of all," Bradley said as he smashed open a peanut on the table, "Rodeo is practically one of the guys. And second," he added, popping the peanut into his mouth and chewing, "it would be weird if you start looking at her like you do all the other random pieces of ass you take home with you. Even though she is cute."

"She's cute, for sure," Mickey piped in. "But once you've seen a girl throw up in the parking lot after a drunken karaoke night, the appeal kind of wears off."

Jake smiled as you headed back toward the table, because the drunken karaoke night was when he got to drive you home and carry you to your bed while you repeatedly tried to tell him you could walk by yourself.

"Oh, you know who else is cute?" Bradley asked just as you set four new beers on the table. "That redhead with the huge tits at the dartboard."

"Damn," Mickey groaned, and now you were looking in that direction, too. But Jake kept his eyes on you.

"Do we have to talk about this in front of Rodeo?" he asked, sipping his fresh beer and starting to wish Bradley and Mickey would wander off. "In front of a lady?"

Bradley snorted so hard, Jake was surprised his beer didn't shoot out of his nose. "A lady?" he asked as he looked at you and cuffed you on the arm. "Nice try, Hangman, but Rodeo doesn't count."

"Well, you don't count either," you told him, and Bradley tapped the neck of his bottle to yours. "And neither do the two of you." Your gaze met Mickey's before settling on Jake. "You know I don't mind when you guys talk about girls. I get it. You're all hot."

But your knee was rubbing against Jake's thigh at the tiny table, and for a brief flash, he thought maybe he wanted to count in your mind as a guy you could be into.

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

It was a strange dynamic, working with mostly a bunch of men all the time. They saw you in a flight suit once, and they never looked at you like you were a female ever again. And that was fine. It made your job easier in a lot of ways. There were fewer distractions, and you knew for a fact that they liked you for your personality. They wouldn't invite you to hang out all the time if they didn't.

But on nights like this, it did sting a little bit to watch the three of them tripping over themselves to go talk to the redhead who was clearly eating up the attention. You were essentially wearing the same outfit she was: jeans and a black shirt. And you thought you looked cute. And what exactly was wrong with your boobs? You looked down at your body and kind of shrugged. You didn't get it.

Natasha handed you a pool cue, and you sank a shot. You made up the excuse that you wanted to play so the guys wouldn't feel bad about abandoning you to go talk to girls, but Jake had been hesitant at first, so you shoved him along. That was a mistake, because you were reminded of how solid and muscular he was under his soft shirt.

The first few times you glanced his way, he was already looking back at you. If he were any other guy, you would have just asked him out by now, but you were so firmly in the friend zone with all of them that it was embarrassing. The rejection would be laughable.

So you put your head down and focused on the game and the chit chat around you. But after a while you got curious, and when you looked up again, Bradley and Mickey were walking back toward the table where your empty beer bottle sat. Jake had won. The redhead was running her fingernails through his hair. It was all over for the night.

You weren't jealous. You weren't. You just didn't understand why it couldn't be you. As you sank the eight ball, you said, "I'm beat. I'm going to head home."

"Me too. Want a lift?" Mickey asked, and you nodded, not sparing a single glance back at Jake.

Maybe you were the problem. Maybe you weren't sexy. You spent most of Sunday scrutinizing yourself in your bedroom mirror and going through all of your clothing. There really wasn't much of it since your closet was lined with uniforms and flight suits. And when you looked in the mirror, it wasn't like you could even tell what the problem was. You were just you, but it was starting to feel like you'd been playing around in this male-dominated world for so long, you were just blending in there.

"Fuck it," you muttered reaching for your phone. There was a text from Bradley detailing the pricing for tickets to a Padres game, which you desperately wanted to go to. It sounded fun. Then you realized the beer drinking and peanut eating would simply be moved to a different venue in which the guys would be looking at all the other women around you. Suddenly it didn't sound so fun.

There were also a handful of texts from Jake. He must have kicked his guest out early if he was asking how you were doing this morning. You sent back a short message before finding the app on your screen that had been dormant since you got stationed in San Diego last summer. Tinder. It was right there.

Nervously, you entered your login information, terrified that you'd just end up with a bunch of guys you saw on base as your best options. They would undoubtedly take one look at you and have the same reaction your male friends did. But you spent the rest of the day thinking about it. You looked, but you didn't sample. You found some guys who were surprisingly not in the Navy, but you didn't swipe. And maybe part of the reason you didn't was because Jake kept texting you all day long.

Monday was your tipping point. You were all ready to fly in your boots and flight suit when you ended up surrounded by the guys in the hangar. "We getting Padres tickets, Rodeo?" Bradley asked. "Day drinking at Petco Park?"

You nodded at him. "Sounds fun."

Then Mickey cut in as Jake walked over. "Hey, Hangman. How was our little redheaded friend?" he asked with a smirk, but Jake's expression stayed the same as his eyes met yours.

"Wouldn't know."

"Oof," Bradley said with a goading laugh. "What, you kicked her out without even talking to her afterwards?"

You swallowed and looked down at your boots as you thought about the guys on the dating app. Maybe a little change of scenery wouldn't hurt anything after all.

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

"Can you just knock it the fuck off?" Jake snapped. "I didn't even spend the night with her." He watched you put your helmet on as you walked toward your jet. "And I don't like talking about this shit around Rodeo anymore."

"Alright," Bradley replied with a tiny smirk. "No need to get mad about it."

When Jake took to the air, you were all business, as usual. You and he flew well together, like you always did. But back on the ground at lunchtime, you barely spared a glance in his direction in the cafeteria. Instead, you were completely absorbed in something on your phone as you picked at your food.

"What's wrong?" he eventually asked, and you looked up at him like you were surprised he was still there.

"Nothing," you murmured, taking a drink before returning your attention to your phone. "Just working on something."

"On what?" he asked, voice almost as snippy as it had been earlier. He found he didn't like it when your attention wasn't focused on him, which was absolutely infuriating, because it's not like the two of you were anything.

"My Tinder profile," you replied smoothly as you licked your lips, and Jake thought he must have misheard. Since when were you looking for a guy?

"Tinder?"

"Mmhmm," you hummed. "I'm just trying to sort out which photo to use, because I like this one where I'm in my flight suit, but guys don't really tend to go for that sort of thing."

You turned your phone to show him, and Jake swallowed hard. It was a photo he had taken a few months ago. He remembered that day. Your sunglasses were hooked on the top of your suit, and your helmet was tucked under your arm, and your smile was infectious.

"I like that one," he told you softly.

But you just rolled your eyes and groaned. "But you don't count, now do you?"

Jake shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Why are you on Tinder anyway?"

Now you laughed as you set your phone down. "Why do you think?"

He didn't want to think about it, even though he knew why. You were looking to hookup with someone. Or maybe it was even worse. Maybe you were looking for an actual boyfriend. Someone to spend all your time with. You'd be at the Hard Deck after work less frequently. You'd be going to the Padres game with some faceless idiot, and he'd be the one carrying you home after you overdid it at karaoke night. Worse yet, you could have your pick of any guy on that app who caught your eye, but Jake knew for a fact none of them were good enough for you.

"Rodeo," he grunted, unsure how to voice his concerns. You just tapped your screen a few times and then smiled at him as his heart clenched a little bit.

"I went with the photo from Reuben's wedding instead."

Jake ran his fingers through his hair. He didn't even have to ask. He also knew that photo well too. His voice was soft as he said, "Blue dress. Holding a martini. Hand on your hip." He didn't like the idea of a bunch of guys he didn't even know looking at you wearing something so pretty.

"That's the one! And now my bio is live on the app," you said as you tapped your screen one last time. "Wish me luck."

You stood with your tray and Jake told himself he would do no such thing.

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

"That photo must have done the trick," you mumbled the following day in the rec room on base as Natasha helped you sort through your matches.

"I'm sure it did," she replied in awe. "You look hot in it."

You wanted to believe her, but it didn't even matter right now, because the two of you were staring at a photo of a hot guy who had sent you a message. You gasped. "Is this for real?"

"Looks like it," she replied. "If you don't fuck him, I will. Happily."

"What are the two of you over here whispering about?" You looked up into Jake's smiling eyes and gave him a grin of your own.

"Rodeo is getting all the Tinder hotties," Natasha replied, and suddenly Jake's smile vanished. "Let me know if he sends you a dick pic."

"He better fucking not!" Jake growled as he tried to reach for your phone. "Show me what this asshole looks like so I know who to pound to dust if he sends you one." You rolled your eyes and held up your phone so he could see. "His name is Tony? And he's a dentist?"

"What's wrong with that?" you asked quickly.

Jake crossed his arms over his chest. "If you have to ask, then you don't want to know."

You scoffed and opened your messages. "You're being dramatic. And I don't get on you about who you decide to hook up with."

"So you're just trying to hook up with this asshole?" he asked, his lips curling in disgust.

Honestly, you weren't really sure. But he sounded nice in the messages he sent. "Would it really be so bad if I was?"

Jake scrutinized your face like he was in pain, and you had the craziest thought flash through your mind that perhaps he was jealous. But then the pinched lines on his forehead vanished, and his voice was completely calm as he said, "You do what you want, Rodeo. But don't come crying to me about it later."

"Fine," you told him as he walked away. And that's what spurred you to reply to Tony's message with a more flirtatious one of your own. You were allowed to hook up with him. You were allowed to go out on a date. Maybe you'd even eventually request a dick pic. Jake wasn't in charge of your Tinder profile or dating agenda.

A few short exchanges back and forth was all it took, and suddenly you had plans for Saturday night that didn't involve hanging with the guys at the Hard Deck for once. Tony was going to take you out to dinner, and you were already excited.

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

"Where the hell is Rodeo?" Bradley asked as he returned to the table with three bottles of beer instead of four. "She's usually here by seven."

Jake rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand. "She's not coming. She's on a date with some smug looking asshole named Tony."

"Good for her," Mickey piped up, earning a glare from Jake. "I hope she gets laid. You wanna grab Javy and play pool?"

With a groan, Jake dragged himself out of his seat and forced his body through the motions. He hit the cue ball with perfect precision, but meanwhile, all he could think about was some other guy's hands all over your body while he shoved his tongue down your throat. "Fuck," he growled, trying to fight the urge to text you. If you wanted him, you knew how to reach him.

Between shots, he glanced around the bar at all the other women, but he couldn't find a single one as pretty as you. He spent the rest of his night barely conversing with his friends while he hoped that your date was a complete flop. And when he left to head home alone, he caved and texted you to make sure you got back to your place safely.

That was over twelve hours ago. Jake still hadn't heard back from you. It was damn near noon on Sunday, and he was left assuming that you spent the night with Tinder Tony. When you finally texted him back, the response made him toss his phone aside.

Sorry, just seeing this now. Yes, I made it home safely. See you tomorrow.

Monday was worse. You were glued to your phone at every opportunity you got, and Jake could tell by the little smile on your face that you must be talking to that asshole.

"Rodeo, how was your hot date?" Bradley asked, bumping your helmet with his while he winked at Jake.

"Pretty good," you replied with a little laugh.

"You get laid?" Mickey asked obnoxiously, and you rolled your eyes before glancing at Jake. He was dying to know the answer to the question, but also terrified to hear it.

"Wouldn't you like to know," you replied, returning your attention to your phone. "Put it this way... I'm going out with him again for dinner on Wednesday."

"Who goes to dinner on a Wednesday?" Jake scoffed. "That's when we usually go to the bar! And what did you and Tinder Tommy even talk about the whole time? Dentures? Teeth?"

"No," you snapped at him. "He told me how pretty he thinks I am, and that he was nervous to meet me in person. And his name is Tony, not Tommy. So don't be rude when we stop by the bar after dinner on Wednesday."

"Can't wait to meet him," Jake grumbled, highly disappointed that your date had been even somewhat successful. And he still wasn't sure if you'd gone home with Tony. Or worse... if he'd gone home with you.

Jake had crashed in your bed with you once a few months ago when you hosted game night. Mickey, Nat and Bradley all passed out in your living room, so you'd taken him by the hand to your bed. Every time he thought about it, he could practically feel the warmth of your body next to his and your foot hooked over his ankle. The idea of someone else there engaging in pillowtalk or fucking you just right was way too much for him to handle, because he was starting to feel like he wanted to be that person.

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

Okay, so Tony was a little boring. A lot boring, actually. And on Wednesday night at dinner, he actually did mention dentures, and you could practically hear Jake scoffing from the Hard Deck. But Tony was hot and nice and he paid for dinner. Could you really hope for more than that?

"So, you mentioned stopping at a Navy bar?" he asked as you walked back to his car. "I keep forgetting you're even in the Navy. It just doesn't seem like you."

Maybe you should have used the other photo for your dating profile since you'd had to remind him twice already that there were a lot of women in the military now. "Yeah. It's called the Hard Deck. I usually hang out there on Wednesdays, and I thought maybe my friends could meet you?"

"Sure," he replied, and he even played boring music on the way there. But when he walked you inside, he kissed your cheek, and that felt kind of nice until Jake was looking. You felt embarrassed and a little guilty when he scowled at you from the pool table, so you eased yourself away from Tony and took him by the hand instead.

"Hey, guys," you said cautiously as you approached the pool table. "This is Tony."

Jake's jaw was clenched tight as he reached out to shake hands with your date in a death grip, and you cringed as he said, "Nice to meet you, Tommy."

And it all went downhill from there. You had to correct him three times, even though you were sure he knew Tony's name. And even the other guys didn't really seem to mesh well with Tony. Bradley looked scandalized when he told them he didn't like beer or playing pool, and Mickey tried to make a dentist joke that just didn't land.

You wanted to crawl into your bed and not come back out for a week. You also kind of wanted to ask Jake what his problem was. Tony was a nice guy. His hand on your back felt nice, and his goodnight kiss at your front door was nice. There was even some tongue, and you didn't stop his roaming fingers. Maybe another date or two and you'd ask him to come in.

"Would you like to get dinner on Saturday night?" he asked as his lips grazed your neck. "At the Boathouse?"

You closed your eyes and leaned back, and the image of Jake took over. His lips were on your earlobe, and he was whispering your name as you led him to your room. His hands were settling on your hips and squeezing gently as you melted into his touch.

"What do you think?" Tony asked, and you were jarred back to reality by his voice.

You swallowed hard and nodded as you opened your door. "Saturday night sounds good," you said as you ducked inside. "See you then."

You couldn't have Jake. You just needed to get it through your head that he didn't want you like that.

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

Jake knew he was behaving poorly even as he was doing it. Tony looked annoyed by him, and you looked embarrassed, but he just kept calling him the wrong name and standing off to the side like a dick. He was actually the asshole. Not Tony. And he needed to apologize to you at work the next day.

He found you in the hangar, pacing back and forth as you played with the strap on your helmet. When you turned, he started to say, "Hey, Rodeo, I'm really-"

"I need your help," you blurted out when you saw him heading your way. "I need you to come shopping with me tomorrow after work, because I wore my only two dresses already, and everything else in my closet is ridiculous. And Tony is taking me to the Boathouse on Saturday, so I can't just throw something together and call it a day."

Jake ground his back teeth together. The Boathouse was nice. As in, he could think of at least three people he knew who got engaged there. How much money did dentists make anyway? He was full blown jealous now. He knew that. But you'd asked him for help, so of course he was going to do whatever you wanted. Your eager eyes were enough to make him agree on the spot.

"Where are we going shopping?" he asked softly.

You looked so relieved as you said, "The mall. I don't think it will take too long, and I can treat you to dinner as a thank you."

"No," he replied. "You don't owe me anything, Rodeo."

"Thanks, Jake," you whispered as you threw one arm around his neck and pulled him in for a hug. "I know I can trust you to tell me what looks good. Because you're a guy, and you know what guys like. I've been in such a rut, and I don't even know what looks nice on me anymore. But I trust your opinion."

He wrapped his arm around your waist and held you a little closer. If you trusted him, he wouldn't let you down. He never wanted to let you down. He would take you to the mall and tell you which outfits looked nice on you, even though he knew it would be all of them, and he would be cool about you dating Tony. "Sure, Rodeo. Anything you want."

When the time came, he was miserable. You seemed excited, bouncing on your feet in your jeans and sneakers as you collected dresses and cute little outfits to try on, but he knew none of this was really for him. You'd just be giving him a little sneak peak of what Tony would have his hands all over.

"How about this one?" you asked, holding up a red mini dress that made Jake's mouth dry up. Then you moved it in front of your body and looked down. "It's probably too much for me."

He wanted to tell you that you couldn't pull it off, but he knew the fucking thing was made for you. "Try it on and see," he said softly, so you added it to your pile. Then he followed you like a puppy dog to the fitting room, holding half of the dresses for you to try on. When you passed the lingerie section, Jake had to watch you grab a few lacy items. "Have you slept with Tinder Tommy yet?" he snapped when you picked up a black bra and added it to your arms.

You looked up at him with a soft pout. "Well, no. That's why I'm trying to buy some sexy stuff, you know? Just in case I want to take it there."

Jake had seen you in your bathing suit many, many times. You didn't need to be wearing anything made out of lace and silk to look sexy, but the sight of you in half of this shit would probably give Tony a damn heart attack. Then he realized as you led him along that he himself might not make it out of the fitting room alive.

"Just stand out here, okay?" you said softly, guiding him against the wall. He grunted in response and watched you line up everything you wanted to try on inside the fitting room before closing yourself inside. You kicked your shoes off, and then he watched you push your jeans down to your feet through the gap between the bottom of the door and the floor. You stepped out of them, and his imagination started to supply the rest.

You were completely naked now, he was sure of that fact, and you were only a few feet away from him, separated by a flimsy door. His head tipped back against the wall as his breathing grew a little deeper. Your toenails were painted bright green, and you were talking quietly to yourself as you stepped into a black dress and started to guide it up your legs.

"This isn't too bad," you muttered, and a few seconds later you were unlatching the door and pulling it open with an apprehensive look on your face. Jake's jaw dropped open as you stepped right up to him and asked, "What do you think?"

"Rodeo," he grunted, fisting his hands at his sides to keep them from touching you as you spun slowly in front of him. "Looks good."

You frowned a little more. "I was hoping for better than good," you replied, twirling away from him and back into the fitting room.

Jake's body was thrumming with desire as he watched that black fabric pool at your feet under the door. "It was better than good, Rodeo," he said, nearly choking on the words as you stepped to the side and bent to pick it up.

"I'll try the red one," you informed him, and he had to press his lips together, knowing what was coming next. This time it took you a little longer, and he watched your feet under the door as you turned in front of the mirror. "It's really short," you finally said as you opened the door again.

"Jesus Christ," Jake moaned softly. The thing fit you like a damn glove. Every curve and soft dip of your body was right there, begging to be touched. His palms were sweaty as he wiped them on his jeans, and then you spun, ending up just inches away from him again.

He couldn't speak, and maybe you took that as a bad sign. "It's too much," you said with a little laugh. "I know it's too much, but it was fun to try it on anyway. It made me feel sexy," you said with a little shrug, barely able to meet his eyes. "I think the black one might be better for dinner at the Boathouse? Or do you think this one?"

Jake snapped out of his daze and remembered why he was here, suddenly pissed that this little fashion show wasn't just for his own benefit. "Come on, Rodeo. Tinder Tommy? Really? You think he deserves this?" When you just kind of shrugged at him, he said, "Get the red one if you're just looking to get laid."

"Okay," you replied, your little pout back on your pretty lips.

He pushed away from the wall until he was nearly touching you. Practically snarling, he said, "Are you just looking to get laid?"

"Maybe," you said softly, looking at his neck. "He's actually into me, so maybe. I don't know, Jake. It's been a long time since a guy chose me, you know?" He opened his mouth to tell you that any guy in the world would choose you when you said, "I have one more dress."

Then he had to stand there and watch the red fabric hit your feet before you guided the tiniest little green dress up your calves. He was jealous. He was so jealous. And the fact that he'd had a whole fucking year to ask you out instead of fucking wasting his time was crashing down on him right now. You were going to wear one of these dresses to the Boathouse tomorrow, and Tony was going to take it off you. He was going to fuck you, and then someday you'd probably get married. Jake would be at your wedding sitting between Mickey and Bradley and making himself sick over this whole thing.

The door opened. You were stunning. You didn't even leave the fitting room doorway this time in that green dress that was hugging your tits and your waist and showing off so much leg that Jake thought he was going to black out. "I can tell by your face that it's not good," you said with a wince. "It's a little too low cut, so I couldn't imagine wearing it in front of Tony."

His voice came out low and rough as he said, "You're wearing it in front of me just fine."

"But I don't count, remember?" You closed and locked the door, and Jake was immediately leaning against it. Literally each dress was hotter than the one before it, and Jake didn't know how to articulate what he was feeling right now. How on earth did he end up so far in the friend zone that he couldn't claw his way out if he tried? What the fuck made Tinder Tony so special? Why were you looking around on the app anyway? He couldn't even pinpoint when it had happened, but you were never going to take him seriously, even if he knew he could be what you wanted.

The rustling of fabric and the sound of the zipper had him resting his forehead on the door. "Rodeo, Baby, you can't...buy one of these dresses. Not for Tony. Okay? Come on. He's not good enough for you."

"Oh." That was all you said. You just replied with one word, and Jake's blood was boiling. He wanted to dismantle the entire fitting room and take you back home and tell you that you could do a hell of a lot better than some lame ass dentist who didn't like beer or playing pool. But you'd just muttered one word, and he was dying to know if he could ever stand a chance at making you happy.

"Rodeo?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. You unlocked the door and he stepped back a few inches so you could open it, expecting to see you in your jeans once again with the dress of your choosing in your hands. "Oh, fuck," he groaned, his heart hammering in his chest. "Absolutely not!"

Jake pushed you back further into the fitting room and managed to wrench his broad shoulders through the doorway before kicking the door closed. You were biting your lip, your eyes wide as his hands came to rest on your lace covered hips.

"Jake," you whispered as he shook his head at the sight of you in a lacy black bra and tiny underwear.

"What the hell are you thinking?" he groaned, fingers digging gently into your warm body as he listened to the little sound you made. "You're killing me here." Your hands came up to his wrists before you slid them up along his arms, and Jake took a step closer until his jeans were brushing against your bare belly. He would need to be removed from the mall in a body bag at this rate.

Then you whispered, "I like you. And maybe there's a chance that you like me, too? And maybe that's part of the reason I asked you to come here with me."

Jake swallowed hard as he leaned in, dizzy from the way you smelled so sweet and felt so perfect in his hands. "Dump him. Dump Tony." You whimpered at his words as he slid one hand down further, teasing the lace covering your ass at the same time his other hand went up to tug at the side of the bra. "Because this? This should be for me."

"Jake." Your voice was a needy whine as you scraped your fingernails along his shoulders and chest, trying to pull him closer. But he shook his head as he pushed you back harder against the wall, lips hovering over yours as you whispered his name.

He knew what he wanted. He'd known for a while, really, but now he was ready to take it. "I want to kiss you. But if I do, I'm not going to be able to go back, okay?" he asked, his voice a deep rumble as you wrapped your arms around his neck. "I won't go back to being Rodeo and Hangman, just friends. I will not do that. Not with you. Not when you count more than anyone else."

Your lips crashed against his, and Jake sighed in relief as he held you in his arms the way he'd been dying to for so long. The lingerie and all the little dresses were only for him. Your kisses and your smile and your fingers in his hair were for him, not Tony. He ran his hands down to your ass as you giggled and nipped at his lips.

"Pick a dress, Baby," he muttered between kisses. "And we'll get the lingerie, too."

"Okay," you replied with a smile before you took his bottom lip between yours, making him moan.

"Tomorrow night, I will take you out, and you can show me this little getup again if you want to."

You looked up at him with the prettiest smile he'd ever seen. "I want to."

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

You nudged Bradley with your elbow. "Hey, she's cute," you said, nodding toward the brunette across the aisle. "You guys should go talk to her." He and Mickey both leaned forward to look without any subtlety whatsoever, and you laughed.

"Maybe at the end of the inning," Bradley replied, manspreading so much in his seat at the Padres game that he kept bumping your leg and nudging your shoulder. But he was grinning, and you could already tell that he and Mickey were about to turn it into a competition to see who could get her phone number first.

But there was one key player missing from their game now, and you smiled as you saw Jake apologetically climbing over everyone else in your row before plopping down into the seat next to you and kissing your cheek with a smile. "The line was long as hell for your favorite beer," he said as he handed it to you. "Did I miss anything?"

You shook your head as Bradley said, "You're just in time to watch the real show, Hangman. Rodeo, I want you to time how long it takes before I get her number."

But you weren't really listening as Bradley and Mickey started to argue, and neither was Jake as he kissed your cheek again. You didn't feel like you were simply blending in, and you didn't feel like you were just one of the guys anymore. You were grinning and sipping your beer as Jake's lips met your ear and he asked, "Are you wearing that black set right now?"

"I'll let you find out later.

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

@blahehblah

Happy birthday, Alli! I hope you enjoyed the blonde one! Big thanks to @mak-32 @thedroneranger and @sylviebell for all your help!

Read Bradley's version in Whole Lotta Love

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beyondthesefourwalls · 1 year ago

Text

Clandestine Meetings

Summary: Bradley was coming home today. Six weeks on a no-contact deployment, stuck on a carrier in the middle of some non disclosed body of water, and he’s finally coming home. Normally, you’d be bursting at the seams with happy excitement. But the two of you had left things in an...interesting place. When he’s finally standing in front of you, you can tell by his cold and dark eyes that he remembers, too. But he’s had six weeks to think of exactly how you can earn his forgiveness, and you’re all too willing to do anything it takes.

Warnings: Language, masturbation, oral (male receiving), rough sex, degradation.

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

Word Count: 5.3K

Notes: A special surprise birthday one shot for @mak-32. I hope you love it, babe!

-------

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked. He was quiet despite being the only ones in the house, his voice nothing but a whisper floating in the space between your bodies.

Your breath stuttered out of you and your mouth was dry. You knew this was different from anything you had ever done before. You weren’t sure you’d be able to come back from it. It made you nervous. But you couldn’t deny the heat that settled low in your tummy at the thought of going through with it, either.

“I’m sure,” you whispered.

---

It’s fitting, you suppose, that it’s a rare cold day in Southern California. The wind feels like ice on every inch of your exposed skin and goosebumps prickle your entire body. You think it might even rain, the clouds above you darkening with every minute. You almost regret your outfit choice tremendously right now. The flowy purple dress you wore was thin and short and did nothing to combat the cool breeze. But you really had no choice but to wear it. It was Bradley’s favorite, after all. And you know that it’s just a silly dress, but it’s important for him to see you in it right now.

He’s coming home today. Six weeks on a no-contact deployment, stuck on a carrier in the middle of some non disclosed body of water, and he’s finally coming home. Normally, you’d be bouncing on the balls of your feet, too excited to care about the cold. And then the moment you saw him, you’d launch yourself at him, the comfort of his embrace warming you from the outside in.

You swallow thickly at the memory of previous reunions. They were always sweet. Loving.

You don’t think today will go like that.

You’re a cold, trembling bundle of nerves in a flimsy dress by the time the ship finally docks and men and women in khaki uniforms start to disembark. Your eyes dart through the crowd, looking for the familiar mustache and head of curls. You’re standing where you always do when he comes home, something you agreed upon after your second deployment together when he wandered around for almost an hour trying to find you in the sea of people. You hope that he still thinks to look for you here.

You hope that he’d still expect you to be here.

You don’t have to wait too much longer to find out; your breath catches when you see him. He looks so good. Tired, like he always does after a deployment, but a sight for sore eyes nonetheless. It takes everything in you not to run and jump in his arms like you’ve done so many times before.

A range of emotions pass through those entrancing brown eyes of his, so quickly that you have a hard time deciphering all of them. You think you see a brief flash of relief and happiness, but it goes away so fast, you can’t really tell. He stops in front of you and for a moment, you both just stare. He lifts an eyebrow with a slight tilt to his head, like he’s trying to read you. You adjust the chain around your neck, drawing his gaze downward for a moment. You suddenly feel like the jewelry is suffocating you and your mouth feels like you were chewing on cotton balls.

“Surprised to see you here.”

You nearly flinch at the words, biting back a gasp. The cold, accusatory tone of his voice cuts you deeper than the wind ever could. Because of course you would be here. Where else would you be?

You have to swallow several times to get the words out.

“I’m…I’m here to…apologize.”

Bradley lets out a single sharp bark of laughter, shaking his head like he can’t believe you. This time, you do flinch.

“That’s rich. You didn’t seem very apologetic six weeks ago, sweetheart.”

Right, you thought.

You flashback to the night before he left, when this had all started. He’s right, you remember - there wouldn’t have been any apologizing then. Instead, it was antagonizing words and insults flying out of your mouth, trying uselessly to defend yourself when you had been the one to mess up. To manipulate him into believing that maybe it was all his fault. You have had six long weeks, every possible scenario playing in your head of how that night went, and how it did.

“I - I know,” you stutter.

He raises one of those thick, endearingly perfect eyebrows. You stare back at him, transfixed at having him in front of you. You want to touch him, but you know you can’t. You aren’t used to having him so close yet so far away, especially on the days he comes home. You’re so caught up in your thoughts that it takes you a minute to realize he looks like he’s waiting for something. Oh. Right. An apology. “Bradley. Baby, I -”

A crack of thunder rings in the air, and you both look up to the sky just in time for the first raindrop to fall. It’s followed quickly by a second, and then a third. You look back at Bradley, eyes wide. He lets out a sigh and adjusts his duffle on his shoulder.

“I’m not going to let you stand out in the rain, no matter how mad I am,” he says. You feel relief at the words, even if his tone suggests maybe he wanted to do otherwise. He extends his hand, and for a second you think he’s asking for yours. Heat crawls up your neck when you realize that’s not what he was after. Wordlessly, you extract the keys from your dress pocket and hold them out. You gasp when his fingers brush yours when he grabs them. Electricity and warmth shoot through you at the touch. Your eyes meet, both of you frozen. The cold indifference on his face slips, replaced by a longing that makes your heart clench. Your breath catches when he shuffles a step closer to you. You think maybe he’ll forget all of this and lean forward and kiss you, or at least touch you with some sort of intention. Anything. But then another rumble of thunder has the warmth fading from his eyes and he steps back.

The drive back to your house is silent, the tension in the front seat of the Bronco thickening with every mile. His jaw is clenched as tightly as his grip on the steering wheel. You can see the veins throbbing with the effort and you swallow at the flash of heat that flares through you at the sight. Your thighs press together on instinct and you think Bradley clocks the movement because you feel him watching you, though you can’t tear your gaze away from his hands. They’re one of your favorite parts of him physically. They’re so capable and strong and versatile, providing the roughest of touches along with the softest carasses. Desire pools in your tummy just thinking about it. You missed his touch. You missed him.

The quiet doesn’t dissipate when you walk through the front door. You’re used to him hauling you into his arms and carrying you back to your bedroom, or the closest mostly-flat surface you can make it to. This time, Bradley doesn’t even look back as he makes his way to your shared room. He closes the door behind him, and the message is clear: he needs more time.

You feel something prickling under your skin. There’s anxiety, certainly, but there’s a simmer of heat that you can’t deny either. Part of you feels ashamed of it, being turned on at the anger he’s emitting in your direction.

You suppose that’s the point.

You busy yourself with making dinner, some of his favorites that you know he craved when he was away. You serve up two full plates once you’re done and it’s five minutes of sitting alone at the table, waiting, before he comes out. He’s showered and changed, his curls still damp on his head. You know the shirt he has on is one of the softest that he owns. You look at him eagerly, but he avoids your gaze. He sits across from you and picks up his fork without another word. Your thighs clench.

When he’s done, he sets his plate in the sink and pours himself some of the expensive whiskey you bought him for his last birthday. He moves into the living room, leaving you all alone to clean up after the meal. Both of you have yet to speak since walking in the front door.

You take your time doing the dishes by hand and wiping down the countertops. Your heart is pounding in your chest by the time you go out to join him. He’s sitting on the couch, those long legs of his spread, the glass of liquor halfway gone in his hand.

God, his hands.

You stand in front of him. You pick at your fingers and chew on the inside of your cheek so hard that you can taste blood. Bradley watches you with a raised eyebrow, bringing the glass to his lips another sip of the dark liquid. You watch his throat move as he swallows.

“What can I do?” you ask. You know you sound desperate, but you’re so close to breaking. You aren’t sure how long you could do this. You need guidance, direction - you need him.

“I don’t know that there’s anything to do.”

His words make you want to cry or drop to your knees or both. “Please, baby,” you whisper, “I’ll do anything. Please.”

He’s silent for another moment and your will power is rapidly leaving you. But then he throws back the rest of his whiskey and lets out a long suffering sigh. The glass clinks hard against the end table and he stands to his full height. You don’t dare move as he walks over to you. His gaze makes you feel like you’re going to burn alive.

“You wore my favorite dress,” he finally murmurs, slipping his finger under the strap and running the back of his knuckle against your skin. You nod slowly. He hums in consideration before taking a step back. You nearly whimper at the rejection, but then he speaks.

“Take it off.”

Your eyes widen in shock. “What?”

“Take it off,” he repeats, leaning against the arm of the couch with his arms crossed over his chest.

“I-right here?” you ask, looking around like you aren’t alone in your living room.

“Right here,” he confirms with a nod. When you don’t move, he motions you to hurry up, looking impatient. “Go on.”

It’s a challenge. He’s pushing to see how far he can go, and you’re going to let him. Your hands shake as you reach for the hem of the short purple dress he loves so much. You tug it over your head and let it float to the hardwood floor. The look you give him when you’re done is a little shyer as you wait for him to tell you what to do next.

Bradley scoffs with a shake of his head even as he looks at you with clear appreciation. “No underwear, sweetheart? I should have known.”

The words make you feel hot with embarrassment. But you also feel the heat flaring up in your core.

“I thought you’d like it,” you tell him.

He pushes off the couch and steps forward until his body is practically flush with yours. You aren’t blind to the juxtaposition you make with him fully clothed while you’re completely naked. It makes you feel a bit like someone to be used - like someone who wants to be used. You squeeze your thighs together in anticipation, and then your lips part in a gasp when his fingers lightly wrap around your neck, forcing your head back the slightest bit until you meet his eyes. He pauses for a moment, tilting his head just the slightest bit, considering you. The shaky breath you let out is laced with anticipation and arousal and without needing to even think about it, you lean into his touch. Just like that, his face hardens again and he moves.

He releases your neck and trails his fingertips down your body, starting at the column of your throat and traveling between your breasts and down your fluttering stomach. His touch is so featherlight it’s almost not there, but if anything, that turns you on even more. You’re aching for him. By the time he passes your belly button, you’re audibly panting for it. You can feel your arousal starting to coat the inside of your thighs. But he stops right above where you need him the most.

“You say that you’re sorry? That you missed me?” he asks quietly. You’re nodding before he’s even done with the first question. Bradley trails his eyes down your body again. His eyes are darker when he meets yours. “Go back to our room. Lay down on the bed.”

Our room. It’s the first thing he’s said that acknowledges that you’re still an “our”. It sends your heart pounding and your feet moving down the hallway to the other side of the house. When you walk into your room, you notice that he had unpacked his bag. The dirty clothes hamper is nearly overflowing with things that need to be washed. His phone is plugged in on his nightstand, where the picture of the two of you he always takes with him on deployment is sitting back in its rightful spot.

You hadn’t considered the fact that maybe he wouldn’t have put it back, if he had even ended up taking it with him at all.

You don’t get long to overanalyze or get in your feelings that maybe things, your relationship, is salvageable after all, because you hear the old floorboard in the hallway creak under his weight and know that he’s on his way. You rush over to the bed. Your head has just hit the pillow when he appears in the doorway.

You want to say something, anything, to get further confirmation that everything was okay. But you don’t dare move. He doesn’t look anywhere but in your eyes as he pauses at the foot of the bed. There are goosebumps all over your skin as you wait for his next direction in this game you’re both suddenly playing.

“You want my forgiveness?”

“Yes,” you breathe. “Yes. Please. I’m so sorry.”

He chews on his lip and drops his gaze down to your open legs. He groans, and you almost sigh in relief that you’re having this effect on him.

“Earn it. Show me how much you missed me.” His voice is rougher than it has been all night, that deep and raspy tone that you enjoyed so much. You nearly gasp in delight as pleasure races through your body at the sound of it.

Earn it.

Splayed out naked on your shared bed, your legs spread for him and with wetness threatening to pool on the duvet under you, you know exactly how you can do that.

Despite the nerves you feel, you take a deep breath and slowly trail your hand down your body. With one more imploring look from him, you slide your fingers through your wetness. You moan when you make contact with that bundle of nerves.

You swirl your swollen clit in soft, slow circles, the pads of your fingers quickly becoming slick with your own arousal. Bradley never takes his eyes off of your motions and it makes you even wetter. You press down harder, knowing that the more you pleasure yourself, the more pleased he’ll be. Your pussy clenches around nothing, aching to be filled. After another moment of teasing circles, you dip your middle finger inside yourself. It’s nothing compared to how you know Bradley feels inside of you, but it’s enough to make you gasp. You arch into the feeling, immediately adding another finger. Your entrance has to stretch to accommodate them and you can’t wait for the delicious burn you’ll feel with his cock, if he even lets you feel that tonight.

You let your eyes flutter closed the longer you pleasure yourself. You think maybe, maybe, you’ll be able to make yourself come like this. You’re climbing toward it, slowly.

“Stop.”

You whimper, but you do as you’re told - as you’re commanded. You withdraw your fingers and immediately your pussy clenches, wanting more. You open your eyes and moan at the site you’re greeted with. He had shed his clothes while you had gotten lost in your own touch and he stood, his cock heavy and thick in his hand, stroking slowly. You see a pearl of precum at the tip and your mouth waters, wanting to taste it. It’s been so long since you tasted him. You can’t stop yourself from crawling to the end of the bed. You’re practically drooling by the time you scramble off of it and drop to your knees in front of him. You want to reach for him and replace his hand with yours, but you stop yourself at the last second. Instead, you look up at him between your lashes.

His gaze is hungry and predatory and focused solely on you. His chest is rising and falling quicker than it was before; he’s just as turned on as you are.

“Please,” you whisper. You rub your thighs together to try and relieve some of the ache that you felt. “Let me earn it?”

His eyes darken and in one quick movement, Bradley takes a step forward, letting the swollen red tip of his cock hit your lips.

“Make it good,” he growls. You open your mouth and take him in. The taste of him mixed with the weight on your tongue and his heady scent is making you dizzy in the best of ways. You want to savor it, to just stay here on your knees and keep him warm, but you don’t want to disappoint him, so you don’t waste time. You dip forward, trying to take more of his length into your mouth. Your hands splay on his thick, muscled thighs, and with a deep inhale through your nose, you pull back before sinking forward and then repeating the motion. You take him a little deeper every time, swirling your tongue and sucking as you do. You’ve been in this position so many times before, and you quickly find the rhythm that you know he prefers. You gag when he nudges the back of your throat, but you don’t let it deter you.

Spit trails down your chin and you know the sounds you’re making are vulgar, but you can’t bring yourself to care. You get lost in it quickly, each moan and curse from above you going straight to your own core. When his hand falls heavy to the back of your head, you think he’s going to guide your movements. You’re surprised when instead, he yanks you back by your hair. His cock falls from your mouth and you gasp. It hangs in front of your face, thick and hard and wet with your own saliva. You go to take him back between your lips but he keeps his grip firm in your hair. You don’t resist when he pulls you to your feet.

“On the bed,” he demands, and you take some satisfaction out of how breathless he sounds. “Hands and knees. Facing the dresser.”

You do as he says, anticipation racing through you like a trail of fire. You’re barely in his desired position when you feel him squeeze the flesh of your behind in both of his hands. “Oh god, please,” you whine, arching into his touch. Only the feeling stops, and your eyes pop open with a gasp of surprise.

You look over your shoulder. His eyes are as dark as they’ve been, but through your lust you see a gleam in them now. Something playful and hot. It’s accompanied by a slow building grin tugging at his lips.

“B-Bradley?”

He tsks mockingly, giving a slow shake of his head.

“Bra-“

His hand connects with your asscheek so harshly and so suddenly that you fall forward, barely catching yourself before face planting into the duvet. But your pussy clenches and the fire in your belly increases and the moan that escapes you is long and drawn out. He drapes himself over you, his weight pressing your entire front into the mattress in the most delicious of ways. He’s completely surrounding you and for a moment, every fiber of you relaxes, forgetting about the anger and the apology.

But then he presses a kiss to your ear, and the words he whispers has it all rushing back.

“Beg for it. For me.”

You can’t turn to meet his eyes with how he’s holding you down, but when you look forward, you realize why he had specifically picked this placement. The mirror over your dresser provides a perfect visual of the two of you tangled together over your forest green duvet. You moan at the sight, and without a second thought, you do just as he requested.

“Please, Bradley. Fuck me. I’ll do anything you want. Please. Use me. I want your cock so bad, baby. Please, please, please.”

Pleading continues to fall from your lips, so jumbled together you lose track of what you’re saying. But Bradley delights in every word. The vein in his neck throbs as he picks himself up, hauling you back to your hands and knees. He looks so large and strong behind you and as he drags the head of his cock through your wetness, you shiver. You watch through half lidded as he lines himself up.

And then he starts to push into you. You both moan at the feeling. It’s always amazing being with Bradley, but that initial stretch that comes with being apart for however long is something special. He’s so big that you can’t take all of him at once, but just like he knows you like, he barely pauses, inching himself in until he’s buried all the way inside of you. You sigh with pleasure and relief, finally feeling full for the first time in six weeks.

You meet his eyes in the mirror again, and for just a second, he’s staring at you like you’re the only thing in the world that matters. It makes all of this so worth it. “Bradley,” you whisper, softer than you had all night. You wonder if it will ruin everything, but you say the words bubbing on your tongue anyway. “I missed you so much.”

The breath he releases comes out shaky and he squeezes his eyes shut. You hold your breath as you wait, wondering if this is all about to come to an end, if your words had impacted him that much. But he shakes his head in a way that almost seems like he’s trying to rid himself of your words, and you know before he opens his eyes that you’re nowhere near done.

“I bet you did,” he grits out, and then he pulls out almost all the way before harshly snapping back into you.

The pace he sets is vicious, demanding everything you can give to him. The room is filled with the sounds of your fucking. It’s filthy and wet, your skin slapping together. The reflection you see in the mirror is a sight to behold. Your breasts shakes with every thrust, your necklace hitting against your skin. The veins in his arms bulge as he grips your hips. You both shine with sweat. You let yourself get lost in the pleasure and your eyes close as it starts to consume you. And then all at once, you feel the sharp sting of his hand connecting with your asscheek while the other twists itself into your hair, retching you up so your back is flush with his chest.

“You better keep those eyes open. I want you to watch while I’m fucking you. I want you to know it’s me making you feel this way. Because I’m the only one who can, aren’t I, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” you gasp, “yes, yes, only you.”

“By the time I’m done with you, you’ll never question that again.”

He lets his teeth trail over the pulse point on your neck, biting down slightly. Another whimper falls from you. Despite being flush against him, you’re desperate to be closer. You reach an arm back, slinging it around his neck. The angle is a little awkward but you’re grateful when Bradley doesn’t seem to mind. He settles one hand on your hip while the other comes around to your front, tweaking your nipples and sliding down your sweat-slicked body.

You aren’t prepared for his next move, and the scream you let out is ringing in your ears by the time you register it had left your lips. You clench around him as your clit throbs from the slap he just delivered. You’re desperate for the painful pleasure it caused.

“Again,” you beg, fingers tugging at his curls. You brace yourself this time, and the sting is somehow even better. He slaps your pussy for a third time just for good measure and then sets his attention on torturing your wet, swollen clit with his fingers. You gasp lightly, only to let out another scream when he slams into you again, harder than before.

“You feel so fucking good wrapped around me,” Bradley rasps. You think you say something in return about how good he feels inside of you, but you’re to the point of pleasure where you can’t be sure. You can feel every vein and ridge of his cock as he pounds into you, fucking you in earnest. You can’t do anything but take it, and you do so gladly. The tightening in your core starts and you know you’re close. The pressure of it builds and builds with each stroke in your throbbing cunt and you know you won’t be able to keep it at bay for much longer.

“I’m close,” you manage to choke out, feeling the need to warn him. At your words, Bradley stops, pulling out of you completely. You moan at the loss, preparing yourself for what’s coming. You expect him to deny you, or to taunt you, make you beg and plead and prove that you’ve earned it. But he doesn’t do any of those things. Instead, before you have time to dwell on what you’re sure is your fate, he flips you onto your back and sheaths himself back inside of you in one smooth movement. At the same time, he presses his mouth to yours. You wrap your legs around his waist, pushing yourself further into him. His tongue tangles with yours and it’s messy and desperate, but it’s the first time he’s kissed you since he left six weeks ago, and even more so than feeling him deep inside of you like he is, this feels like coming home. You nearly sob into the kiss.

He’s panting harshly when he breaks away, as are you, but the look in his eye is different now. It’s more familiar, softer, and your walls flutter around him. “You’re so good for me, sweetheart,” he rasps, and you arch into the praise. He kisses you again, his thrusting becoming more erratic now. “Come for me, baby. I want to feel you come all over my cock. I need it.”

“Bradley,” you breathe.

“I love you,” he whispers, “come for me.”

The look of love in his eyes reflected back at you is the catalyst, but the words are truly your undoing. You scream his name as the cord inside of you snaps and you gush around him, your body nearly convulsing at how powerful of an orgasm this is. It’s six weeks of built up tension and anticipation, thinking about his return and how it would transpire. It’s six weeks of longing and missing him, and being without him. He fucks you through it the whole time, chasing his own end. Through the haze of your pleasure, you feel his thrusts become jerky and quick, and when he lets out a hoarse shout of your name, you feel his hot cum spill inside of you, filling you up.

For a long moment, you let yourself float, completely surrounded by this feeling of relief and euphoria and home. Your breaths mingle together as he rests his forehead against yours. He places a soft kiss to your lips as you both come down from the high you reached together. And once your breathing is a little bit more controlled, he pulls back just slightly, and you watch as he glances down to where he’s still buried inside of you. The sigh he lets out is full of content. It’s reflected so clearly in his deep brown eyes when he looks at you.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he says.

You hum softly, your body tired and completely relaxed. You scratch lightly at his back, delighting in the goosebumps that appear under your touch. Your voice is hoarse from how loud you had gotten when he fucked you. “Hi, baby.”

Bradley presses a gentle kiss to the tip of your nose, and then another on your cheek before finally placing one against your lips, so featherlight you almost don’t feel it.

“I missed you,” he whispers, followed by another kiss. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too.”

“Are you alright?” he checks, a tinge of worry filling his voice. “Was I-”

“I’m perfect,” you cut him off before he can spiral too much and ruin the bliss that you had both fallen into. “You were perfect.”

He nods, letting out a breath of relief. He doesn’t pull out of you yet, knowing how much both of you need the connection after he’s been away and after a scene. You had always been adventurous in bed, and role playing was one of your favorite things.And this one was intense. Instead, he shifts so you’re both laying on your sides, the front of your body flush with his, his cock still buried in your warmth.

“That was…”

“Yeah,” you breathe out a laugh, shaking your head. You flashback to six weeks ago and can’t help the shiver that goes through your body.

You snuggled closer to Bradley on your shared bed, your leg sliding between his. His fingers traced shapes into your bare lower back. “Tell me how it will go again?”

“It’s a six week no contact deployment” he told you. “And when I come home, it’ll be like we had a massive falling out before I left. And you have to earn my forgiveness. I’ll be mad at you. Degrading. And you’ll…you’ll be desperate for me.” You could feel him hardening against your stomach as he described it, and you shivered in return.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked. He was quiet despite being the only ones in the house, his voice nothing but a whisper floating in the space between your bodies.

“I’m sure,” you whispered.

“Wear the purple dress, and the necklace with my initial on it, if you’re sure,” he told you anyway, and your heart swelled, knowing he needed the extra validation. Your comfort was always his number one priority. “If you don’t have them on, I’ll know that you don’t want to act it out anymore. But if you do…”

“Then I’ll be ready.”

----------

Main Masterlist

Notes: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MAK!!! Keeping this a secret from you was one of the hardest things ever, I swear. The amount of times this almost got sent to you on accident...man oh man.

Thanks to @roosterforme for all of her help with this! Literally would not exist without you!

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