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"🕸No...no way🕷."
Thee Miles Morales x female reader😜
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⚠️Warnings: Kinda angsty, spelling mistakes, slight cursing and the biggest part of all...
⚠️SPOILERS!!!⚠️
(Well not exactly, but you'll know what I mean when you watch the movie.)
Don't read this, if you haven't watched it, Okay!🤠
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• Y'know, most people would go see parents when they're upset. But Miles, he needed to see YOU. Even though his pops life was soon gonna be at stake, he still needed to cool down. Get his head screwed back on straight. Yes, yes, this was selfish. And reckless. But if anyone could heal a black heart, it was his girlfriend.
• About 5.2 seconds later, he crash landed on your balcony. Normally, that would've hurt, but the adrenaline was still coursing through him. He took a shaky breath, and knocked on your window.
• Please be home.
• Miles chanted in his head. The curtains were drawn. Were you asleep? Godammit. He shouldn't of came here anyway. Knowing that Miguel guy (and everyone else he thought CARED about him) he was probably followed. You did NOT need a bounty on your head just from association. He was ready to hightail it, when he heard the curtains spread.
• "Miles?"
• You barely got the word out before you were tugged into a tight embrace. By...spiderwebs?
• "Um...sweetie pie?"
• You squeaked. What was wrong with him? Silently, he picked you up, and slipped through the window. (Still hugging you, btw) He put you down and sighed.
• "Sorry, Y/N. I...I just been through some stuff."
• "Stuff?"
• You asked, with a raised eyebrow. Sure, he's been scarce for a few days. But the crime was still low.
• "Remember when I said I had to figure out what Gwen was hiding?"
• You nodded slowly.
• "Well, uh...this is gonna be long. Um, listen, turns out I'm part of a long line Spidermen. But every gen, a police captain dies. And just recently, Dad got promoted and-"
• "Whoa, whoa, whoa. Pump the breaks for a sec, handsome."
• Was he talking too fast? Or was this still a information dump? You gave him a bewildered look.
• "You're saying your pops is getting promoted?"
• The chocolate hero nodded. You were at that party. Did you forget the deets already? (Although he wouldn't be surprised, you guys were kissing A TON that day)
• "Honey pie..."
• You said with a confused and now concerned look.
• "You're dad passed last year... remember?"
• Miles blood ran cold. Died last ye- What were you talking about!? He was alive! And he was gonna stay that way! Noticing your boyfriend's panicked expression, you gave him a hug.
• "Aww, Is this why you needed to see me?"
• "You'll be okay."
• Sadly your attempt to comfort him was in vain, his heart was still racing. He was home...right?
• "Go on, hug me back."
• You said into his chest. His arms naturally raised up, but he forced them to stop when he took a look a you. You...you looked really different. Instead of one of the many sweaters he lent you, you had one a tattered jersey with the sleeves torn off. Along with dragon tattoos littered on your arms. Even your iconic hairstyle was different!
• "Y/N..."
• "Hold that thought, let's get outta the dark."
• You said. You let him go and headed to the light switch. Miles watched as you did so, although it was kinda hard. His head was spinning like crazy. What was happening...?
• "Okay."
• You said. You turned on your heels.
• "Back to the kiss and make it bet-"
• You paused. You gave him a shocked look over. What was this new style? You chuckled as you crossed your arms.
• "Jeez, you dip for a few days, and become a whole new person."
• You flicked the lights back off.
• "But...I kinda like it."
• "It's not every day, I see your hair down..."
• Miles tensed as you walked up on him. This wasn't you...well not the one he's dating. You leaned on him and wrapped your arms around his neck.
• "It's nice,"
• You snickered.
• "Kinda gives a Huey Freeman vibe."
• Well, at least you were still clever. BUT, he didn't have time for this! He had to get his family! And protect Brooklyn from that spot weirdo in general! So much to do and so little time. He pulled your arms off.
• "Y/N, listen. I gotta-"
• His words fell when his Spider sense suddenly kicked in. He yanked you towards him, and hopped to the right. Just in the nick of time too. The door blasted in.
• "Y/N!"
• Miles ear rang. That voice...sounded oddly familiar. TOO familiar.
• "Miles!?"
• You shouted. Miles!? Like Miles Morales? The dark figure turned.
• "Y/N!? Oh my god, I'm so glad you're okay-!"
• YOUR boyfriend stopped in his happy tracks A awkward silence filled the room. Miles was now face to face...with HIMSELF. Well, a more tormented kinda intimidating version of himself. Where the hell is he!? Both of the males faces slowly went from shock, to deep frowns. YOU, on the other, was STILL shocked. Who the hell was holding you right now!?
• "Miles or...Miles-es?"
• "Who..."
• They both started, slowly yet angrily.
• "In the matrix hell..."
• "ARE YOU!?"
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HAHA! Bet no one saw THAT ending coming. Except the peeps who watched the movie too. Anywho, gotta finish a ROTTMNT ask. As always, Stay cool!😎
#spiderman across the spiderverse#spiderman#spiderman into the spiderverse#spiderman imagine#miles morales#miles x reader#miles x female reader#a little treat#watched a movie#loved it#random#x you fluff#Spiderman across the spiderverse spoilers#spoilers#to be continued?#stay cool#happy sunday
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Hotter Than Texas | Part I
(unofficially: Brother's Worst Enemy)
Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x F!Reader
Alrighty y'all, this is for everyone who has so patiently waited for me to make this a thing XD Not sure if I could squeeze a whole series out of this one but we shall see. Maybe at least a part 2. Enjoy!
Summary: Bradley Bradshaw is tasked with transporting a not-so-delicate package in the form of Jake Seresin's baby sister, who turns out to be Bradley's dream girl worst nightmare.
Aka it's a road trip, strap in.
CW: swearing, age gap (10 years)
The mission is simple. Collect Seresin Junior from the train station near the main gate of the base and deliver said cargo to the Seresin homestead in Eastern Texas on his way to Atlanta, Georgia for a long overdue visit with his grandparents. It isn’t rocket science. It sure as hell doesn’t hold a candle to the canyon run he pulled off just the other month. And yet, Bradley’s drumming his fingers anxiously on the hood of his Bronco as he leans into its frame, waiting on the trolley from downtown San Diego.
While Jake and Bradley have recently made peace after their longstanding cold war, Bradley isn’t exactly thrilled to meet another one of his kind. Besides, he isn’t one for small talk, and the prospect of spending the next two days with a complete stranger is downright daunting. He prefers music to conversation and he’s hoping that his road trip companion won’t be offended when he turns up the radio and forgets there’s anybody else in the car.
When Hangman had asked for the favor, he assured Bradley that he was his last choice – which wasn’t exactly a compliment, but Bradley appreciated the gesture, nonetheless. By the end of the term, there was nobody from their squadron left on base except Bradley, and he would be heading east anyway, might as well provide shuttle service while he’s at it.
As the trolley whistles into the station, Bradley pushes off his car and straightens his back, watching the tinted windows as they zip by, a blur at first and then gradually separating as the trolley comes to a stop.
Bradley leaves his car to walk around the fence, not quite sure how he’s going to be greeting a person he’s never before seen, but it’s not like he’s going to fashion a sign for the occasion. He sticks his hands into his pockets, the breeze picking up his unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt like a parachute before it starts whipping around his torso in the wind tunnel on the platform.
He glances around at the commuters stepping off the trolley, trying to pick out the blondes that might resemble his colleague, when he feels a tap on his shoulder. He turns his head, just as you say, “Rooster, right?”
He blinks at you, slightly disoriented. You look nothing like Hangman, thank fuck, because Bradley can’t take his eyes off you and, as inappropriate as this reaction is, it would make it that much worse if you did. He gives you a sideways grin. “What gave me away?” he says.
“My brother told me to find the dorkiest guy at the station,” you respond, grinning at him.
Bradley chuckles. “So, you’re walking to Texas, then,” he says, stepping around you.
You laugh, struggling to redirect the wheels of your suitcase.
Bradley bends down to grab the handle. “I can take that,” he says, tucking away the retractable bar and lifting it off the ground by the strap.
“Thanks,” you say, cringing slightly as Bradley lifts the luggage as though you’re embarrassed by its weight.
But after the countless exercise drills over the years, Bradley hardly notices that it’s heavy. In fact, he could probably carry it over his head. He eyes you inconspicuously as you fall in step with him, wondering if perhaps that might impress you – not that he wants to impress you.
“Actually, he said I couldn’t miss you because you’d be a head taller than everyone else, and probably wearing a very bright shirt.”
Bradley looks over at you with a grin. “Hopefully I didn’t disappoint?”
You eye his shirt flapping in the breeze. “I found you, didn’t I?”
Bradley lifts your suitcase into the trunk of his car and walks around to open your door for you.
You give him a suspicious look. “Thanks,” you say.
Bradley nods at you, offering a hand to help you in. Once you’re seated, he shuts the door behind you and exhales unsteadily the kind of sigh that often accompanies a guilty conscience. There’s no way he could possibly get entangled in a mess of this magnitude. And a colossal mess it would become if he were to develop any sort of soft spot for his recent enemy’s baby sister. Bradley, being a sensible, mature adult, understands this unequivocally. But, when he rounds the car and climbs into the driver’s seat next to you, the notion that he’s not allowed under any circumstances to find you attractive flies right out his rolled down window.
This is because you’re already tuning the radio like you own the place and because you smell like a goddess. Bradley has no clue whether it’s your hair or your perfume or your goddamn essence that’s permeated his upholstery in under ten seconds, but whatever it is, he certainly wouldn’t mind smelling it on his sheets in the morning.
Fuck. He’s fucking fucked.
“This alright?” you ask casually, as if you didn’t just hijack a stranger’s radio.
He cringes at the stereo; he’ll have to work on your taste in music. “Got your seatbelt on?” he asks as he pulls out.
You turn around in your seat and pull on the seatbelt.
Bradley promptly hits the breaks and you lurch forward slightly, the seatbelt in your hand getting stuck on its way out. He looks over at you with an air of seriousness despite the small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “The seatbelt should be the first thing you do when you enter a vehicle.” Not fiddle with the radio, he adds silently.
You raise your eyebrows at him in amusement. “Okay, dad.”
Bradley nearly shudders at your response. He’s probably a good ten years older than you, so, really, while dad might be stretching it, you’re not too far off. “Keep up that attitude and you’ll be listening to Metallica the whole way home.”
You smirk at him. “I like Metallica, so joke’s on you, bud.”
Bradley starts driving again. “If you like Metallica, then why are we listening to this trash?”
Your jaw drops and you reach for the volume dial to turn up the song. “How dare you?”
Bradley rolls his eyes. Something tells him he’s in for a wild ride.
…
About two hours later, Bradley pulls into a small gas station just past the border into Arizona.
“Want something to eat?” he asks, leaning across the console to pop his glove compartment and pull out his wallet. “Or drink?”
You purse your lips. “I could go for a coffee.”
“How do you like it?” he asks.
“With a pinch of salt.”
Bradley gapes at you. “I can’t tell if you’re joking.”
You snort. “I’m not joking. You should try it! Cuts the bitterness in half, my friend.”
Bradley cringes. “The bitterness is why I drink it.”
You shake your head and declare wisely, “You’ll see.”
“That you’re a nutcase?” Bradley mutters under his breath as he exits the car. He jogs over to the convenience store, determinedly blocking out the seductive quality of your persuasive tone. You could probably convince him to drink a pint of his own urine if you set your mind to it.
Bradley drums impatiently on the counter, waiting for the clerk to finish restocking one of the shelves with chips. While he’s waiting, he glances out to check on you as if you’re a child under his charge. You’ve stepped out of the Bronco to stretch your legs and Bradley doesn’t like the way the two guys in the convertible in behind are eyeing you.
Bradley cranes his neck to check on the clerk’s progress and lets out a stifled sigh. When he looks back outside, he sees that one of the men has approached you and, well, Bradley isn’t about to wait to see what happens next. He drops a bill on the counter and calls out, “Keep the change,” to the clerk before practically slamming his way through the doors with the coffees in his hands.
Why it bothers him that some random dude might want your number is not of consequence. What matters is that Bradley gets rid of this asswipe before you start enjoying his company.
He strides confidently past the man chatting you up and stops right in between you and him, handing you a coffee.
“Careful, it’s hot,” he cautions moodily, not entirely sure how to go about handling a situation in which, objectively speaking, he has no real authority.
You meet his gaze with a small smile. “You don’t say,” you respond with all the sultriness of a blazing, desert sun.
Bradley’s gaze remains unwaveringly on you as he unhooks a pair of Ray-Bans from the neck of his muscle shirt and slides them over his eyes. “Ready to go?” he asks in a level tone, hoping he can avoid what is bound to be an unpleasant interaction with the man still standing behind him.
“Sorry ‘bout that,” the man speaks up. “Didn’t realize you were with someone, honey.”
Bradley keeps his eyes on yours for several moments longer, trying his best not to show the irritation he feels at the way this rando just called you ‘honey’. Reluctantly, he turns to face him, wondering what in the world he could say that wouldn’t make him sound jealous as fuck.
But before Bradley could speak, you slide casually into his side, leaning on him like it’s the most natural thing. “That’s just fine,” you say to the man. “No harm, no foul.”
Bradley looks down at your head as it nestles into his shoulder and then lifts his arm to let you move in closer. Trying to play it cool, he skims the tips of his fingers across your lower back, which is warm and feels like the perfect place to rest his hand.
Convertible guy promptly departs, and Bradley is left standing in an embrace with the one person on the entire planet for whom he should never catch feelings, at a derelict gas station on the outskirts of arid Yuma, Arizona, and the heat is really starting to get to him. Slowly, you start to peel yourself away and Bradley, sensing your withdrawal, drops his hand and recoils from you like you’ve burnt him.
Did it feel nice pretending you were his girl? Sure did. Is he going to erase it from his memory and never let himself so much as shake your hand again? Absolutely.
Read Part 2
Tag List
I’ll be tagging the rest in the comments probably tomorrow!
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#bradley bradshaw#rooster#bradley rooster bradshaw#top gun#miles teller#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw x you#rooster bradshaw#top gun maverick#rooster x reader#rooster top gun#rooster x you#rooster fanfiction#rooster fic#rooster fluff#bradley bradshaw imagine#bradley bradshaw fanfiction#bradley bradshaw fic#bradley bradshaw x female reader#top gun fanfiction
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Oooh how about Yandere Miguel who locks his s/o away in an apartment like place (it's actually really nice) that's hidden somewhere in the spider society headquarters that only he knows about because he's extremely possessive and he's afraid of them getting hurt. Since they are just a regular human being, there's not much they can do about it. When he checks on them he's all loving and sweet but he's still very controlling. Maybe Miles or Gwen accidentally finds them and attempts to rescue them and Miguel gets PISSED.
Don’t Think You Can Escape
✿ฺ Paring ➳❥ Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader
✿ฺ Summary ➳❥ Miles and Gwen continue to run from the Spiders, but at a dead end, they come across something neither of them knew.
✿ฺ (A/n) ➳❥ Inspired by “Love Taste feat. Jamie Paige & Shiki” by Moe Shop. I’ve got an announcement! Celebrating the movie’s release, I will be releasing my own Miguel O’Hara book! Be on the lookout. Anyways, requests will remain open for a few more days before I close them. You guys have the best ideas!
✿ฺ Word Count ➳❥ 2.6k
✿ฺ Content Warnings ➳❥ Female reader, angst, pet names (Amor, baby), blood, bruising, branding, violence, talk of marriage, threats, death, choking…
“This way!” Gwen shouted, dodging the incoming webbing from the other Spider members.
Miles followed her closely, following her and taking turns that she thought she was familiar with but it led them to a dead end. His head snapped in the direction of their shouts.
Gwen’s gizmo was tossed a while ago, realizing that there may be a chance of a tracker, she didn’t want to take any chances.
“What now?” MIles heavily panted, their voices getting louder by the second.
She takes a second to think, she places her hand on the wall as support but it lights up. She could hear rumbling on the other side, like something turning. She pounded her fist against the metal wall and it was clear that it was hollow.
“Miles, help me open this.” She said.
“Are you sure?”
“We don’t have any other option.”
“Alright then.”
Miles stood on one side and Gwen on the other, they both used their webbing to force the hidden, metal doors open. Both of them loudly grunt as the doors slowly opened.
“One three.” Miles nodded, “One… Two… THREE!”
The two simultaneously jump in at the same time, practically tackling each other. The doors slammed shut with a loud bang and soon, they could hear other voices up against the door. It made his heart drop, yet he relaxed when the voices dispersed.
Gwen stood up first, taking off her hood and mask to take a good look around, “What is this place?” Miles asked her.
She hesitated in shrugging, “I’m… I’m not sure. I don’t think I saw this place on the map.”
“Didn’t think the gizmo had a map.” He stood as well, “Could it be another sector?”
This time, she shrugged, “It clearly wasn’t labeled, otherwise we’d be caught by now.”
“Okay then, what now?”
Gwen looked forward and into the dark but barely lit tunnel, “We keep moving forward.” She walked into it.
“I’ll follow your lead.” Knowing that Gwen knew the headquarters better than him.
The two walk through the long, narrow hallway. It made Gwen shiver and keep her guard up. But she kept her sights forward, following a light that seemed to be peeking out from under the door.
Their footsteps rang and Miles swears he could hear his heart racing. As much as he enjoyed a break from being chased, he began to worry. What happens now? How will he get out? What about Gwen?
All kinds of questions raced through his head… Was either of them going to get out of here?
“Miles!” Gwen looked back at him, worried, “I know that you’re panicking but I need you to focus, everything will be alright.”
“Will it?” Miles huffed, arms crossed, “You saw how freaked Miguel was. There’s no way out of this, I’m sorry I dragged you into this.”
“Hey, we’re in this together. Okay?”
Miles takes a deep breath, “Okay.”
“Besides, we can think of something when we’re inside.”
Miles stopped in his tracks, “Insid-?” A door. Windows, a few feet from the door, pitch black and barred.
“I think this might be the place Peter was talking about.” Gwen smiled, walking up to the door.
“He knew about this?”
“It’s more like suspected. He saw Miguel disappear a couple of times and believed he had a secret place to get away, this must be it.” Slowly she twisted the doorknob.
Miles reached out and grabbed her wrist, “Then are you sure we should be sneaking into a place where Miguel visits.”
“I said suspected. It’s a chance this may now be it and besides, he’s too busy running around the base looking for us.” She ignored Miles’ protest and opened the door, it was unlocked, “Now that’s suspicious.” She mumbled.
The two enter the room. Both of them were awed.
It was like a normal home, furnished well, like any other home. The home smelled freshly cleaned, but plates and cups were set on the table, like someone was expecting guests. While Gwen looked around the rooms, Miles’ attention was to the photos.
It was Miguel, along with a woman. He followed the array of photos. At first, the woman seemed to be happy but as the photos went on and on, he could see it in her eyes… Fear, fear and more fear.
“I always knew Miguel was crazy but-”
“No.” Gwen immediately retorted.
“Didn’t you see the photos, he’s obviously obsessed with this woman.”
“It can’t be him.”
Miles sighed, “Gwen it’s him. This is probably the home to bring her to the base.”
“That’s the thing, she’s already here.” Gwen pointed to a room, “I saw her when looking around, sleeping soundly, too soundly.” It remained silent between the two.
His head snapped to the direction of the door opening, “Hide!” She harshly whispered, pushing Miles into what seemed to be a guest room, and shoving him into the closet.
Miguel entered the home with a heavy huff, slipping off his mask and his hair puffed up a little. He runs his hand through his hair a couple of times before calling out, “(Y/n)! I’m home!” But all he is met with is silence.
But that’s when he hears the slow footsteps, “Miguel?” You groggily spoke, “You’re home early.”
“Actually, I’m home on time. Did you sleep?” You tiredly nod, “Did you just wake up?” You nod again, “Awe, my poor baby.” He cooed, welcoming you in his arms.
But you’re too tired to push him away, the house was freezing and you needed something warm. You felt one hand come to your neck and his claws lightly dragged over where used to be your-
“Where’s your necklace?” He demanded the second he felt the open skin, “Where is it?” He growled.
“I-I took it off.” You managed to say, scared that he may dig his claws into you.
“Why?” His voice was like a growl, dark and deep.
“Because it was hurting my neck, it left a bruise.” You cowered. Your necklace was more like a choker. It was mainly black but it had red and blue stripes, along with gold ornaments.
It wasn’t because of the pain you took it off, it was because his last name was engraved on it. It made you feel worthless, like someone’s property. Before you took it off, you began pulling off the small gold pieces and then when he wasn’t home, you tore it into pieces. Hopefully telling Miguel that you didn’t need it or that there was no need.
“You should’ve told me sooner.” His voice returned to normal as he released you from his arms.
“But I did.” You mumbled.
“Where is it?”
“One the dresser.” You watch him enter the bedroom and come back a few moments later, the choker in hand.
“Must’ve been hurting you a lot.” Miguel can see little droplets of blood left behind, “Don’t worry about it.”
You let out a sigh of relief.
“I’ll get a new one.” Your heart dropped, “I was thinking about it for a while.”
“Do you think I could go with you?” Your hurriedly asked, “If I can chose a-”
“No.” He sighed, “I said it before and I’ll say it again. You stay here, why can’t you understand that?”
“I’ll stay with you-”
“No!” He shouted, “I’ve given you everything! A home, food, clean clothes! Aren’t you grateful for everything I did for you?!”
Your eyes begin to water, “O-Of course I am!”
“Then why don’t you just listen to why I say no?!”
You jump, “Miguel…” You whimper, “You’re scaring me.”
His blood red eyes soon turned to his beautiful brown ones, they softened, “Perdóname, amor.” (Forgive me, love.) One hand comes to cup your face, “It’s just… It’s dangerous out there, you saw it yourself. Remember?”
“I do…”
“I wouldn’t want to hurt you.”
“...Why would you hurt me?” You begin to panic, “I-I thought you said-!”
“That I wouldn’t hurt you. I mean it, but when it comes to breaking the rules I set, I must do what needs to be done. I’ll just have to cut off your beautiful legs. Breaking them wouldn’t be enough.” He kissed your forehead, “I’ll be back in a couple of hours. I love you.”
His grip on your face tightens when he doesn’t hear the words, “I-I love you too, Miguel.”
It made him smile widely, “Be patient for me, amor. I’ve got a surprise for you.”
And with that, he’s out of the door. Hearing the doors lock, you’re left alone in the empty and freezing house.
You cry on the spot, finally breaking in fear. Your body felt uncomfortably hot, your breathing became staggered and it felt like you were gonna vomit. Your arms wrapped around your body tightly that your nails dug into your sides. Your chest grew right as you fell to the tile floor. Shaking and hyperventilating, your stomach churned as you remembered his words.
“I’ll just have to cut off your beautiful legs… Breaking them wouldn’t be enough.”
Who knows how long you remained on the ground, all you could do was shake. Your chest stung and your heart raced, you were in pain all over again.
“Um, (Y/n)? Was it?” You let out an audible gasp as you saw the two teens in the room.
You pushed yourself off the ground and hurried away from them, “Wait!” Gwen put her hands up, “We’re just here to help. I’m Gwen and this is Miles.”
“Who are you- How did you get in here?!” You choke on your words, wiping the tears from your red eyes.
“We’re just running from the same man.”
You quickly shake your head, “You guys can’t be here!”
“We would’ve left sooner but… We can’t just leave you here.” Miles kneeled in front of you, “Let us help you.”
“Y-You can’t!”
“Yes we can.” Gwen agreed, “We just gotta pack up and get on out of here. I can get that started. Miles, watch her in case Miguel comes back.”
“How did get like this?” Miles asked, “I saw the photos.”
“...I met him after he lost his daughter and I didn’t think it was right for him to try to get into dating so soon but people grieve in different ways. We were supposed to take things slow but… But he talked about marriage and it made me scared. I tried taking a break but he found me. From then on, it went downhill.”
“I always knew he was crazy.” Miles mumbled.
“He’s great at manipulating people, he owns a business.” You responded. Then you heard a thud outside, “Miles, hide.” You push him away, not knowing where he went.
The door opened and in comes Miguel who doesn’t look pleased, “I heard them.” He starts, “No, I heard him.” He stepped closer, the choker nowhere to be seen, “Where is he?”
“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You clear your throat.
“¡No me mientas!” (Do not lie to me!)
“I’m not lying!” You moved back when he reached out to you, “Please, believe me Miguel!”
“Last time I did, you ran out on me! I have every nerve to not believe you.” He pushed you up against the wall, “Where is he?!”
“Leave her alone!” Miles comes around and lands a clean kick, knocking Miguel off of you, “Are you alright?”
“Miles…”
Miles puts on his mask, “Gwen will be right behind you-!” He dodged Miguel’s webbing, “Just run!” Then he charged at Miguel, taking him head on, “Go!”
You got up and rushed out the door, “(Y/n)!” You heard Miguel, “Get back here!”
You run faster. Your bare feet are padding quickly across the cold, metal floor. Then faster and faster until you nearly run into the wall. Whatever hopes you had are nearly gone when you realize that it’s just a dead end.
“(Y/n)!” You heard Gwen, she lands next to you, “I need you to listen to every word. I’m going to open the door and let you out, but it’s impossible for me to go with you. But! There are others out there, they are willing to help you. Just run and I promise you that someone will come for you.”
“What about Miles?” She hands you to the bag she quickly packed.
“I’m heading there once I know you’re out of there.” Using her webbing, she does the same as before, forcing one side of the door open. She grunts loudly, “Go!”
You jump, tumbling on your feet as you hear the door shut. The sound rang through the base and all that was left was silence. Even on the other side of the door. Nothing could be heard.
You stand, looking around. There was not a single person in sight. But you continued walking, walking, and walking… You continued to replay Gwen’s words in your head, not wanting to give up hope. But slowly it died as you continued wandering aimlessly around the base.
“Lonely isn’t it?” You gasp, freezing in place. You didn’t have to turn around to know who it belonged to, “Just like how it’s going to be when you leave. All alone and there is no one to turn to.”
You scoff, keeping your back to him, “I’d rather be alone for the rest of my life than spend one more minute with you.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“Yes I do!”
“Come with me and I’ll forget this ever happened, we’ll have a fresh start. Or you can continue with these foolish games. You know that you’re better with me than without me.” Miguel sticks his hand out for you to take.
For every step you take back, he takes on towards you, “How will I know things would be different?”
“You gotta trust me to know.”
You breath hitched when you felt your back hit the wall. Miguel towered over you with ease, and you hated the look in his eyes. Sorry… You hated how soft and apologetic his eyes looked. It also terrified you.
“Where’s Miles and Gwen?” You ask him now that he’s in front of you, “Where are they?”
“You have the nerve to ask me that right now?”
“I do!” You retorted, “Now where are they?” You demanded.
Miguel sighs, “They are in a place where they won’t bother us nor say anything.”
“You didn’t!”
“It had to be done!”
“You bastard! They were kids!” You dropped the bag and pushed him as hard as you could which had no effect on him, “They’ve done nothing wrong!”
“You weren’t there!”
“So?! That doesn’t give you the right to kill innocent children-!”
Miguel’s hands came around your neck in an instant, you felt the heavy pressure. Panic sets in, trying to breathe, doing anything you could do to get his hands off and breathe. Your eyes rolled back as your vision darkened. Your attempts to kick or push Miguel off fail.
Then he throws you at another wall, the pressure knocks whatever air was left and he watches you have a coughing fit. You’re too weak to even crawl away from him when he kneels down, “Why must you be so difficult? Why don’t you understand? After all these years, you still don’t understand that I am the only person who will ever love you.”
© 2023 Intoxicated-Chan, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without permission.
#x reader#x female reader#miguel o’hara#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o'hara#spiderman x you#spiderman 2099#spider man#across the spiderverse#spider man 2099#spiderman x y/n#spiderman 2099 x reader#spider man x y/n#spider man x reader#spider man x you#spiderverse#spider gwen#miles morales#tw yandere
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Bereavement
noun
/bɪˈriːv.mənt/ The state one is in when losing someone important to them
Spiderman: Across the Spiderverse
42! Miles X F!Reader, 1610! Miles X F!Reader
Synopsis: Miles is missing, and all you can think about is getting him back. Upon finally finding him, however, you're taken aback by the copy that stands beside him—the same copy that was staring at you with wide, shaking eyes full of... disbelief?
Note: this one's for my cousin. The idea actually came to me while I was rewatching the first spiderverse lmao. Who knew Kingpin was such a source of ideas?
part two.
You saw it—on the control panel—42. Miles had been transported to Earth 42.
You belonged to 1610; which meant that Miles also belonged to 1610.
He was in the wrong universe.
Your best friend was stranded in the wrong universe.
Now, if you were a rational person, you would've called for back-up—maybe even gotten Hobie's help like Gwen had. But you weren't a rational person—and could anyone blame you?—your best friend was probably in danger, of course you would act without thinking.
The watch wasn't hard to swipe, everyone was too caught up in what had just happened with Miles to care for guarding their little 'goober' dimension devices. Tracking him down wasn't terribly difficult either, not after you knew which world he went to.
All you really needed to think about was where exactly you had to open the portal—but luckily for you, Margo was willing to help.
"You owe me for this, by the way." Her head tilted your way, lids narrowed in a sassy look you dismissed with a wave of your hand.
"Yeah, okay, what're his coordinates?"
With a roll of her eyes—that you very much thought was quite rude—she gave you just what you needed; his exact coordinates.
The assortment of colours and geometric shapes appeared before you with a few taps of your finger against the cold device, flitting across the room in a bright blur of pure chaos that hurt your eyes to look at—
—but you would endure it; if only for Miles' sake.
"This is stupid, by the way—" you turned, facing the girl who insisted on making a snide comment every five seconds, "—you're not even a spiderperson."
"Says the girl who's speaking to me through a VR headset and isn't actually here right now," you growled.
"Careful, I can shut this whole thing down right now and tell Miguel what you're planning," she returned your apprehension with crossed arms, brows furrowing even further.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," you sighed, "it's just— I'm worried about him. Please don't tell Miguel. Miles has saved me so many times, it's time I save him for once."
You assumed you must've looked rather pitiful for her features to have softened up, arms falling limp by her side as she, too, gave a sigh; though hers sounded like it stemmed from a different type of exasperation to yours.
"Just... go. Before I change my mind—preferably."
You gave her the brightest smile you could muster, hoping to god she could see all the appreciation in it—and there was a lot—before turning back around to take a step into the portal.
"Miles! I'm here to—"
As soon as you walked through, you were met with a dark room—though, that wasn't what caught your attention. Instead, your wide eyes landed on that familiar hanging bag, beat down and bits of its material flaked off.
Chained up to it, was your very own, Miles Morales. And stood directly opposite to him was... also Miles Morales?
Alright, you were aware of this whole 'spiderverse' thing but you didn't think it would be this trippy.
"...save you?"
They were both staring directly at you, however, the expressions situated on their faces were vastly different.
Miles—your Miles—had his eyes blown wide, shaky pupils not leaving your form for a second, even as he started frantically shaking his head from left to right, he still remained in eye-contact with you.
The other Miles also had his eyes blown wide. This time, however, it wasn't in warning—no—his pupils were dilated and his form stood rigid; still as a statue.
"Cariño..." he whispered; so much breath in his voice, it barely sounded like words were coming out.
"Y/N! You have to get out of here!" Your Miles yelled, pulling at his chains as though it would get him any closer to you.
You scoffed. "And leave you? I don't think so."
"Don't worry about me! You have to—"
"Cariño."
You blinked, casting your gaze back over to the other Miles—who now stood much closer to you than before. He was just an arm's length away, in fact, how did you not notice him approach you?
"Mi vida, oh Y/N..." his voice was soft as he spoke—quiet and coated in an emotion you were unfamiliar with—hand moving up to your cheek to gently trace a cold, steel claw over it.
"Hey!" The sound of metal chains clicking grew more frantic from behind him. "Stay away from her! Don't you dare hurt her!"
Either the Miles in front of you was ignoring your friend on purpose, or he genuinely didn't hear him, because he continued to do as he was doing—continued to give you shivers from the icy material against your cheek.
Then, all too suddenly, he flew into your torso, engulfing you in a hug so tight—so inextricably emotional—you stumbled back a little from the sheer intensity of it all.
"You're alive..." he breathed out—and it was then that you finally understood what the tone of his voice was. "You're really, truly alive. Oh mi cariño, I've missed you so much."
"Wha—?"
"Lo siento... lo siento." He buried his face into the crook of your neck and the surface of your skin slowly grew wet, your collar soaking up. "I didn't get there in time, I couldn't save you."
You and your Miles shared a glance.
You saw your reflection in his eyes; the look of shock on his face; the scenes that flashed through his pupils. You saw a fear in him, one unlike anything you had ever seen before.
You saw your near-death experience replay right before him.
"Te quiero—" the other Miles—the one holding you—grounded you once more with his words as he pulled away just enough to look you in the eyes and continue, "—you know that, right? I'm so sorry for not saying it before. If you hadn't— if you never— I'm so sorry."
The phrase shocked you, sending an electric pulse down your spine and rendering you utterly immobile.
"I always have. For the longest time. It's always been you. It's always—only—ever been you."
If what he was saying was true... then—?
"Y/N!"
Suddenly, the metal against your hips was replaced by the familiar silky material you were used to; the one worn by your Miles.
"Miles," you breathed out, looking all around you to see the shattered glass that flew in the wind—scattering in all different directions as the warmth of the inside abandoned you.
"I'm gonna need you to hold on, okay?"
You nodded.
Then, you glanced behind him, catching sight of the familiar geometric mask of the Prowler—sharp claws out—coming in hot and fast and furious.
"Miles—!"
"I know, mami, I know. I need you to trust me for a minute, alright? You know I'll never let you get hurt."
You nodded once more, nails digging into his dark suit as you buried your face directly into his chest. You felt yourself flow through the air, swiftly moving as the wind worked against you, pushing back on your hair as though you were its worst enemy.
It was nice. It was fun. It was... bound to go wrong.
One moment, you were safe, all coddled up in Miles' arms as he swung through the sky—the next?—
—you were falling.
"Y/N!"
(Note: I feel like I need to address this because some people seem to be misunderstanding what I'm doing with Margo.
First of all, Margo is not AT ALL being mean in Bereavement. The whole of that fic is written in the Reader's perspective (and I'll prolly end up writing something in both Miles' perspective too) - this makes her an unreliable narrator so you can't trust the way the story is being told to you is 100% accurate to the true events.
At the start, the Reader is frustrated because she knows her best friend is stranded on another universe - this makes her unfairly take out her frustration on Margo when she thinks lines like 'who always seemed to have to say something every five seconds' (paraphrased).
Margo thus responds accordingly (as she should) and although she threatens to tell Miguel, she never actually would because she is legit one of the only real ones in the movie. So no, to those commenters that were accusing me of making her 'aggressive' cuz she was black - that is not what I'm doing at all. I am writing the Reader's perspective after just having lost her best friend.
Margo is the only one helping. She is literally being kind to the Reader. If anything, the Reader is the one being rude to her but again, that's because her best friend is missing which isn't an excuse but definitely an explanation.)
#miles morales#spider man: across the spider verse#spiderman atsv#across the spiderverse#female reader#miles morales x reader#earth 42 miles#42 miles morales#earth 42 miles x reader#earth 42 miles morales x reader#earth 42#miles morales prowler#earth 42 miles morales
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"He got a whole fan club."🕸️🕷️
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
Pairing: e!42 morales x black!reader
Warnings: light swearing
Summary: You attended Miles's basketball game and caught sight of some girls cheering for him to an extensive amount.
a/n: had to repost this due to some problems with the text
you coming to my game?
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ
Im already here
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ
I thought you had a lash appointment?
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ
I can always get them done another time
ㅤplus I wanna see you play baby
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ
you get to watch me dunk on these broke ass niggas then💯💪🏿
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ
ok pal!
Miles💕 disliked your message
“Number 16 is so good, like he really going all out f’me” Armani said, biting the tip of her index finger.
You scrunched your face, “Bitch you’re so delusional, he don't even know you.”
“Then explain why he always lookin’ back at me when he makes a shot?”
“You know the scoreboard is above us right? he just looking at the points girl.”
She kissed her teeth, “Just cause you got a nigga, don't mean you can ruin my fantasy bruh.”
Miles then made a three-pointer which caused everybody in the stands, including you, to get on their feet and cheer loudly. The score was now 65-50 with Brooklyn Visions Academy leading the game at fifteen points.
“Ask Miles to put me on 16, help a sista out.”
“Why don't you just get his insta after the game?”
Armani widened her eyes at your response, “Are you crazy? I aint that bold to be going up to him like that.”
In the last couple of seconds of the third quarter, one of his teammate's shots bounced off the rim which resulted in Miles acting quickly and getting the rebound instead. Another loud and favorable reaction from the crowd erupted in the gym.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ
“GO MILES!”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ
“NUMBER 42 IS THE BEST PLAYA OUT THERE!”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ
“42 HAS MY HEART!”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ
“THATS MY MAN!”
You heard a couple of female voices yelling from behind you and decided to look back at the commotion. There was one girl holding up a sign that said “IN MILES WE TRUST” and others just screaming out his name.
You knew he was a well-known person in the school but didn't realize how much of the girls liked him.
“Damn, he got a whole fan club up in here.” Armani said as she laughed.
You turned back around to face the game, “The fuck, where these hoes even come from?”
“You gonna say something to them?”
“Nah.”
You weren't as fazed or threatened because you knew that Miles’s was yours. They weren't the ones that got to wear matching pj’s or watch poetic justice with him constantly. You got to share those moments with him, so what was there to be jealous of?
After their winning game of 103-92, Miles came up to you when everyone was leaving the stands.
“Te gusta el show que te hago mami?” (You like the show I put on for you mami?)
“It was ight.” You responded, obviously joking.
He smirked and then tried to kiss you.
You pulled away “Nigga you’re dripping with sweat right now.”
“Shit, my bad.”
#atsv fluff#atsv miles#miles morales#miles morales x reader#earth 42 miles morales x black!reader#earth 42 miles morales fluff#earth 42 miles morales x reader#earth 42 miles x reader#miles morales x black!reader#across the spiderverse#miles morales x you#miles morales x y/n#miles morales fanfiction#miles morales fluff#earth 42 miles x you#earth 42 miles morales x you#earth 42 miles morales x female reader#earth 42 miles morales x y/n#atsv x you#atsv miles morales
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HUGS N’ KISSES
PAIRING: miles g. morales x fem!reader
SYNOPSIS: your boyfriend, miles, invites you over to his place since his moms not home and he can finally have the door shut. but one teasing comment you made later and suddenly he’s asleep in your arms as you smother him in tender kisses. is he really tho?
WARNINGS/NOTES: pure fluff, one suggestive joke? heavily coded latina reader w implied curly hair, miles being petty, that’s all !!
“translations:” ¿qué onda? = whats up, novio = boyfriend, relájate = relax, chuleto = used to refer to a fashionable/flirty boy or fboy, tonto = idiot, lo siento = i’m sorry, princesa = princess
after an exhausting heatwave, new york had been graced with a week of downpours and cool streets.
you hadn't recently seen your boyfriend. yes, you spoke to him in your classes and in the hallways when you saw him at school, but it had been some time since you had last seen him outside of the school building. he frequently claimed to be busy with whatever the hell it was. but you decided against pushing it. miles is loyal to you and has been through a lot, so you don't push him to tell you when he's busy or doing something else to fill the time. instead, you wait for him to open up.
currently, you found yourself comfortably sprawled on the couch in the living room. the morning's heavy downpour had gradually subsided as the afternoon arrived, leaving behind a gentle drizzle that cascaded down the windowpane. without any particular program capturing your attention, this day seemed to be a slow one you just had to follow the vibe of. as you idly absorbed the atmosphere, your eyes wandered to the television, where a journalist was discussing the prowler's recent involvement in a local drug bust.
exhaling a sigh, you contemplated switching off the tv and surrendering to another nap, when suddenly, a notification chimed on your phone. your gaze shifted to the coffee table, where the glow of your phone illuminated the surroundings.
it was a message from your man, miles.
mi novio : ¿qué onda, mami? i miss you 😩😩
you couldn't help but roll your eyes at your phone as you silently read the text. miles had a penchant for playfully teasing and maintaining a smooth facade, all in an attempt to fluster you.
you : relájate… we texted this morning and it was you who stopped replying
you : but ig i missed you too
you could almost picture the expression on his face at that moment. maybe a subtle smirk adorned his lips in response to your sassy reply or the mention of missing him. or maybe he even did a small pout, feeling defeated that you didn’t completely fold.
mi novio : ik you missed me
mi novio : you tryna come over?
as soon as you finished reading the last line of his message, a loud laugh escaped from your lips. once again, he was acting cocky. your mouth stretched into a soft smirk as you realized you couldn't pretend that you didn't like the way he acted. it didn’t help how bold he was asking for you to come over. now that’s when you knew something was up.
the supple fabric made contact with your skin as you took up your phone and sat back against the cushions, instantly soothing your muscles as you typed up a response.
me : come over and do what lil boy…
with a laugh, you rose from the couch and strolled toward your bedroom, mentally getting ready. it was a familiar routine, the satisfying dance of teasing and banter that defined your dynamic. deep down, you knew you would end up there regardless, but relishing in the opportunity to playfully toy with him was irresistible.
you put your phone down on your bed as you opened your closet and began to put an outfit together. you felt your phone ding as you jumped into your jeans and pressed the buttons together. picking your phone up, you glanced at the text message that flashed across the screen.
mi novio : girl you know not the start with me
mi novio : and don’t act like i’m on some freaking timing when you texted the prowler to stop by your window the other night, ma
a gasp escaped your lips, and your hand instinctively flew to cover your mouth, overwhelmed by the sudden nervousness that surged through your body. your cheeks were so warm from the sudden boldness of his comments you swore you could feel the steam radiation off of them. you were well aware of his nature, but this time, he had truly caught you off guard with his little comeback.
your head quipped at the sudden notification that dinged your phone again.
mi novio : what’s wrong, you stopped typing? don’t get all shy on me now when you started it
mi novio : just come over and we’ll figure it out damn i jus wanna see you
despite your nervous state you couldn't help but smile warmly at what she said. miles isn’t always vulnerable but you loved the little crumbs you got when he spoke his mind. you could tell he really missed by just how much he was double texting, something he only does when he talks to you.
you : i'm comingg you can stop now 🫶
as you coated your hands with the product, carefully working it into a rich lather, a playful image of him rolling his eyes in response to your text crossed your mind. undeterred, you tenderly scrunched and massaged the product into your luscious locs. casting a final approving glance at your reflection in the mirror, you made sure your fit was good. with your headphones and house keys in hand, you slid into a jacket, being mindful of the weather. swiftly, you shot miles a text, letting him know you’d be there soon.
you took a deep breath as you stepped out of your house, the familiar door closing behind you with a soft click. the gray sky’s gentle glow kissed your skin, casting a dark hue upon your face. the sound of your footsteps created a comforting cadence as you strolled through the gloomy neighborhood. with each step you glanced at the dark shadows that had overtaken brooklyn throughout time.
within a short time, you found yourself on his block, reaching into your pocket to retrieve your phone and let him know you were about to pull up. as you turned the corner, his apartment building came into view, and there he stood, positioned at the entrance, patiently awaiting your arrival. clad in an oversized black puffer jacket, he exuded a sense of warmth, his hands tucked protectively into the pockets for an extra layer of comfort in the outside weather. drawing nearer, his face gradually came into focus, revealing the cool, icy gaze that harmonized with his stoic demeanor. yet, behind the stoicism, a gentle smile graced his lips, radiating a tenderness that could not be concealed around you.
he let out a sigh as a cloudy mist escaped his soft lips. “hey baby,” miles whispered, his voice raspy almost as if he’s a bit tired as he moves closer and wraps an arm around your shoulders, holding you close.
“hola chuleto,” you replied back, enamored by how gorgeous he looked in pale sunlight. you put your hand on his cheek and felt his supple skin beneath your fingertips. “so, can i get a kiss from my boyfriend now?”
before he responded, you prepared to start leaning up to kiss him but miles had playfully straightened his back and added to the distance between you two. you looked up shooting him an annoyed glare as a smirk painted his featuress.
“ah, mami. y’know i can’t resist you,” miles mumbled against your ear as he leaned back close to you and let out a small laugh.
he leans down and kisses you, both of his hands resting softly on your hips. he let out a satisfied hum as his lips met the warmth of your mouth. the feeling was something of ecstasy. he had missed you so much all he wanted to do was just be near you. his hand moves down to your lower back, pressing you against him. miles pulled back with a hum as he looked down at you with soft eyes as you gazed up at him through your wispy lashes. he pulled you into a hug as you both slowly rocked back and forth in each other's embrace.
as the chilly mist continued to linger in the air, miles gently pulled away from your embrace, his concern evident in his eyes. "hey, we should probably go inside the apartment building before we catch a cold," he suggested, his voice carrying a note of practicality. his words were accompanied by a warm smile, a gesture that conveyed both consideration and a desire to keep you safe.
nodding in agreement, you intertwined your fingers with his as a silent affirmation. miles opened the door to the lobby and guided you to the staircase as you began your descent up to his floor.
your kisses always had a way of melting his demeanor away into something much gentler, if your friends ever saw him this way they would barely recognize him.
as you reached the landing, miles fumbled for his keys, his hand briefly brushing against yours, a fleeting touch that sent a shiver down your spine. the door swung open, revealing the dimly lit and mostly empty apartment.
“you hungry? cus’ i cooked if you want anything,” he mentioned from behind you as he locked the door.
"cooked too, huh? and here you are always tryna act all hard," you giggled. "no, i’m good but thank you"
it always was amusing to you how miles acted so differently than how he actually felt but at the same time it gave you butterflies that he had made something with you in mind. he really did have a soft spot for you.
miles shot you an annoyed glare at your words. he never liked being called out, did he?
“i’m not hard or whatever,” he mumbled as he reached behind you, his large hands going around your waist to pull you close behind him before removing your jacket and putting it on the coat rack.
miles turned, catching sight of the amused expression on your face. his eyebrows furrowed in curiosity, prompting him to take a step closer, deliberately lowering himself to meet your eye level.
“yeah, i cook,” miles stated, licking his lips. “so i don’t know why you’re giggling at me. a man can’t show off his skills once in a while?”
before you could let out another laugh, miles had grabbed you by the hand and dragged you into his room.
“c’mon, let’s relax and watch a movie or somethin,’” he suggested as you both made your way inside and kicked your shoes off.
miles settled onto his bed, reaching for his laptop and powering it on. as the soft, ethereal glow of the screen bathed his face in a light blue hue, he started looking for fall movies.
"and what movie might that be?" you asked, your expression tinged with curiosity and skepticism.
"i wanna watch a scary movie, but you're too scared so i'm letting you choose. just no more romcom nonsense." miles pleads as he pats the space beside him.
"whatchu mean romcom nonsense?" you repeated in a mockingly hurt tone. "i don't wanna hear that from somebody that said jason x was heat…”
"oh? so we gon bring that into this,” miles groans as he lays back onto the couch, pulling you down gently so you're laying on top of him.
you looked up at him with yet another raised brow as a small pout formed onto his playful lips. "jason x was heat, you're jus’ too much of a hater.”
“yeah i am a hater, but because i love you imma refrain from clowning you for that false statement,” you playfully teased, feeling miles grab your shoulder and lean back, creating a comfortable space for you to rest against his chest. he smirked, and you could tell he was enjoying the banter.
miles sighs, "alright alright, i guess jason x wasn't the greatest...”
he shifted slightly, propping himself up to lean over your body, his gaze fixed on you with gentle intent. with a tender touch, he reached for the blanket, enveloping both of you in its warmth as he carefully draped it over your bodies.
“jason x sucked,” you spat out as miles began to tuck the blanket into your sides.
miles reclined once more, his arm finding its place on your shoulder, drawing you even closer to him. the warmth of his touch sent a pleasant shiver down your spine.
"you always smell good," he remarked, his voice laced with admiration, as he gave your waist a gentle squeeze. "is that the perfume i got you?"
a smile effortlessly spread across your lips at his question. the fact that he had noticed the fragrance you wore, especially since it was the dior one he had given you some time ago, filled you with a sense of excitement.
"could you really tell?" you asked, feeling a bit bashful.
he could sense the flustered effect his words had on you and responded with a sly smirk. as the remote made a satisfying click noise, miles finally selected a movie, capturing your attention. it was a satirical classic— a scary movie that promised both fright and laughter. "of course, i could tell," he quipped playfully, "the bag it came in made my room smell for weeks."
the sassy retort that was on the tip of your tongue dissolved into laughter, unable to resist the infectious humor he exuded. these were the things that made you appreciate his sarcasm even more, and more importantly, made you realize just how deeply you loved him.
miles smiled down at your laughing form, relishing in the pure joy that radiated from you. his fingers danced through your hair, a soothing gesture he often performed, as he loved these intimate moments you shared. planting a tender kiss on the crown of your head, he tightened his embrace, drawing you even closer as the movie commenced.
giggles escaped your lips as his hands continued to play with your hair, his gentle touch leaving a trail of butterfly kisses along your scalp. as the movie progressed, your positions shifted, with miles essentially becoming your cozy human blanket, his body nestled on top of yours.
with one hand lightly caressing his scalp, you both remained engrossed in the film. however, you couldn't help but notice the subtle heaviness in his eyes. between funny scenes, instead of laughing he would slowly blink, accompanied by silent chuckles that escaped his lips.
"tired?" you ask softly, noticing his drowsiness.
he responds with a gentle "mmhm" and a light snore, his grip on you tightening as he draws you closer. despite his fatigue, it's evident that he finds complete comfort and trust in your presence. as he starts to drift off, his breathing becomes more relaxed, and his hold on you gradually weakens, revealing his vulnerability. in this moment, there's no facade of stoicism or toughness, just the authentic him.
as the movie reaches its conclusion, the blooper reel snaps you back to reality. you reach for your phone in the corner, curious about the time. your heart sinks as the bright text on the screen reveals it's already 9:30.
"my mom is gonna kill me," you whisper under your breath, a hint of worry in your voice.
turning to your boyfriend, who is sound asleep in the crook of your neck, your senses come alive as each gentle breath of his tickles your skin.
"miles?" you call out, trying to rouse him from his nap, but there's no response.
cautiously, you place your hands on miles' shoulders and gently shake him, hoping to wake him up. but of course, he remains deep in his sleep, undisturbed by your sad attempts.
out of desperation you continue to try, shaking him a bit more, but it seems miles is completely lost in dreamland, his snores filling the room. he shifts slightly, but remains peacefully asleep, holding onto your neck and cuddling you tighter.
this turns out to be the worst possible scenario for you. the impending lecture from your mom, the potential attack with a lanky shoe, the grounding— everything seems likely to happen. miles shifts once again, clinging to you, and you can't help but feel both exasperated and affectionate in this bittersweet moment.
"miles, please..." you silently pleaded, but as you looked down at his serene face, a wave of tenderness and adoration washed over you. he looked so peaceful and irresistibly cute, and a part of you hesitated to disrupt his slumber.
a defeated huff escaped your lips as you surrendered to the sight before you. his bottom lip slightly tucked under his top lip, his eyelashes resting gracefully against his cheeks, and the faint smile that graced his face as he dozed off—all of it captivated your attention. it was an irresistible combination, making his features appear kissable and utterly adorable. the soft snores he emitted only added to the charm.
unable to resist any longer, your desires took over. cupping his face gently, you leaned down and pressed a tender kiss on his forehead. miles stirred slightly at the unexpected touch of your lips, but his response only made him look even more endearing as he leaned into your affection.
a smile played on your lips as you let go of any reserve, fluttering his face with multiple kisses. from his hairline to his cheek and jaw, your kisses were light and ethereal, filled with both gentleness and profound love for him. another kiss found its place on his nose, until the vibration of your phone interrupted the moment once again—your mom calling.
"damn, i really have to go," you muttered under your breath. summoning the courage, you slowly maneuvered miles off of you without disturbing his peace. gathering your belongings, you kneeled by his bed and pressed a gentle kiss on his scalp, one last show of affection before you run on home.
as you tried to move away, he unexpectedly grabbed your thigh, his grip leaving a faint imprint. with a laugh, you carefully pried his slender fingers off, savoring the sweet connection before leaving his side.
"goodnight, tonto," you whispered teasingly, ready to make your exit.
just as you were about to close the door, you heard miles mumble something under his breath.
"goodnight, ma."
he had been awake the entire time.
in an instant, it was as if you were hit with a flashback, remembering how you used to mock miles for his tough and stoic demeanor. was this his way of playfully getting back at you, by pretending to be a big baby?
"don't 'goodnight ma' me! you weren't even asleep this whole time?" you exclaimed, feeling a mix of surprise and embarrassment wash over you. the kisses you had showered him with while he was awake suddenly felt awkward.
"oh, come on, don't be embarrassed. i'm sure we both enjoyed it," miles chuckled, sitting up and leaning against the bed frame. "yeah, i was just messing with you a bit. it was funny."
"yeah, i bet it was real funny," you retorted, crossing your arms and standing defiantly in the doorway. "you always play too much."
miles let out a laugh, thoroughly amused by the small pout that formed on your lips. he rose from his comfortable position on the bed and approached you.
"aww, is la princesa mad at me?" miles teased, leaning down to your height, playfully taunting you.
"oh, can't you tell?" you shot back.
as miles sluggishly smiled, he couldn't help but say, "but you're so easy to mess with."
"being easy to mess with doesn't mean you should actually do it! i thought you were asleep for real," you commented, moving closer to him. "lo siento, pero i have to go home before my mom skins me alive or something."
miles mumbled, "didn't deny that you enjoyed it, though," clearly trying to push your buttons.
and it worked.
"miles!" you called out, your irritation evident in your voice.
"you're cute when you get all angry, you know that?" he continued to tease, his words meant to playfully provoke you.
as much as you wanted to maintain your anger, you couldn't help but let out a dry chuckle. you were still annoyed with him and his antics, but there was no denying the underlying affection he had that melted your heart.
he goes in for a hug, sighing softly as he kisses your cheek while embracing you. "alright, mami, go home before her anger starts to grow and she starts getting the chancla," he teases, but there's a hint of wistfulness in his expression as you prepare to leave.
you laugh at his joke. "don't manifest that for me!" you reply, worry in your voice as you slip on your sweater. miles walks you to the door, still holding onto your arm.
"no promises," miles jokes back. when you reach your front door, he keeps his grip on your arm and smiles. "i had a lot of fun today." he glances down briefly, his cheeks turning a shade of red.
"yeah, today was nice," you reply, returning his smile.
he doesn't say anything in response, instead emitting a soft hum. you turn to face him and smirk as you notice miles leaning in.
however, you interrupt his attempted kiss with a finger, playfully reminding him of his prank. "should i tho?"
"aww, come on, i'll make it up to you," he pouts, looking down. "please?" miles appears genuinely sad, and it becomes clear that you won't be able to keep up your annoyed facade for much longer.
frowning, you find yourself unable to resist any longer. you rise up on your tiptoes and cup his cheeks before leaning in for a kiss.
miles' eyes light up in surprise as you kiss him. after a moment, he kisses you back, and the kiss lingers on. eventually, miles breaks the kiss, his cheeks flushed and a smile on his face.
he looks at you, his expression hopeful. "are you not as mad at me now? did i make it up to you?"
"hmm, i'm not as mean as you, so i guess you're forgiven or whatever," you say, rolling your eyes playfully as you step outside, ready to start your journey home.
"so dramatic," miles chuckles, watching you walk away. however, he stops you at the door, a mischievous grin on his face. "hold up, did you see how red your face got?" he pokes your cheek and teases, "i didn't know you got that flustered." miles continues to poke your cheeks while smiling, clearly enjoying teasing you a little too much.
you give miles a deadpan look as he laughs at your reaction, not quite amused by his amusement.
miles kisses your cheek once more as you walk out, and calls out to you, "be safe and remember to text me when you get home!"
you hoped too that you’d be safe.
what awaited you at home, however, was pure hell. your mom sent you straight to your room after a heated argument that you wisely chose not to escalate. the interrogation that followed only added to your annoyance. you were definitely in trouble.
as you changed into your pajamas, you settled near your window and observed the serene scene outside. the orange and green hues of the falling leaves gracefully descended from the slender trees, landing softly into puddles. it was a tranquil moment, and you found solace in witnessing the slow descent of the fall beauty.
suddenly, a notification from your phone interrupts the peaceful atmosphere. it's from miles.
mi novio : i miss you already mami…
with a sense of contentment, you let out a loud giggle and swiftly reached for your phone to respond to miles. despite the trouble you’re now in with your mom, at this moment, it feels like a small price to pay for spending time with your boyfriend.
art from crittlyworm on tiktok
DO NOT STEAL, COPY, OR TRANSLATE MY WORK. ALL WRITING IS @PRIMAVIVA.
#42 miles morales x reader#earth 42 miles morales x you#earth 42 miles morales x reader#e42 miles#miles morales x y/n#miles morales x reader#miles morales x you#prowler miles x reader#earth 42 miles x reader#prowler miles#prowler miles x you#earth 42 miles x you#earth 42 miles morales x female reader#earth 42 miles fluff#miles morales imagine#miles morales#astv miles#earth 42 prowler#42 miles morales x y/n#astv x you#astv x latina reader#astv x y/n#spiderverse x reader#spiderverse x y/n#spiderverse x you#astv fanfic#astv imagines
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can you write smth where the reader takes off a necklace that 42!miles bought her like everytime she gets mad at him. and he’s like ‘where’s the necklace i bought you?’ and the reader says smth like ‘it’s my jewelry box 🙄’ and in the end he puts it back on her after they made up. hopefully this makes sense 🤍
૭ jewelry box — ꒰ e!42 miles x fem!reader ꒱ !
summary miles bought you a necklace that you wear all the time, except for when you two fight. miles finally caught onto it and confronted her.
request by anonymous
a/n i haven’t posted in a long time, sorry 😭 i’ve been on vacation and i’m js in a slump, so writing this to feed u all 🤲
warnings miles being somewhat possessive
Miles eyed your neck, your usual Tiffany necklace not hanging from there. He raised an eyebrow and made his way towards you where you stood with your arms crossed in the middle of your room.
“Mamí, where’s your necklace?” Miles walked closer to you, as you looked down at your neck. “In my jewelry box.” You responded flatly. He scoffed and shook his head.
“Nah, it don’t belong there. Belongs ‘round your pretty neck,” he made his way towards your jewelry box. “Turn around, ma.”
You scoffed and stood still, not turning. “Don’t change the topic, Morales. I’m still mad at you.”
Miles smirked as he walked behind you, whispering in your ear. “Sure, you keep saying that.” He moved your hair to the side, hooking the necklace around your neck. “That’s better, isn’t it? Can’t let such a pretty little thing hide,” he smirked before he walked in front of you. You rolled your eyes at him.
“All you care about is if I have my necklace on?” You raised an eyebrow at him. He chuckled, then paused for a second.
“Y’know I hate it when guys stare at my girl. You can’t blame me, if you were me you would be the exact way. My girl is mine, ‘n only mine.”
You rolled your eyes at him again, before smiling. “Yeah, yeah, alright. We get it, you’re possessive over me,” you teased. You wrapped your arms around him. “I can’t be mad at you for too long, can I?”
Miles smirked as he wrapped his arms around you. “Nah, never. At least I know I’m possessive, can’t stand it when other guys breathe the same air as mi princesa,” he looked down at you and kissed the top of your head. “‘N don’t you ever take that necklace off again, got it? I paid good money for that, princesa.”
You looked up at him and rolled your eyes at him before chuckling. “Yeah yeah, I got it.” Miles smiled down at you before connecting your guys’ lips, happy to be with his girl.
#across the spiderverse#spider man: across the spider verse#x reader#miles molares#atsv#miles morales x reader#spiderman atsv#42 miles morales#earth 42 miles morales x reader#earth 42 miles morales x female reader#earth 42 miles morales x you#earth 42#earth 42 miles morales#earth 42 miles x reader#earth 42 miles#atsv x reader
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i think about you every day miles morales
#miles morales#across the spiderverse#miles morales x reader#earth 42 miles x reader#earth 42 miles morales x female reader#earth 42 prowler#astv#miles g morales#i miss you#come back home miles
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Love in the Air
Pairing: Rooster x Female Reader
Summary: You weren't expecting anything interesting or exciting to happen on your flight from Virginia to San Diego. But what happens when you decide to shoot your shot with the handsome stranger sitting in front of you on the plane?
Word Count: 12.5k
Author’s Note: Thank you so much to my dear friend, @ryebecca for giving me the idea for this one! I've been mulling it over in my brain for a while now, and the super adorable Netflix movie Love at First Sight gave me some much-needed inspiration to finally see it through to completion. This story exists outside of the Mr. & Mrs. Bradshaw Universe, which is sort of a first for me, so I hope you all enjoy!
Warnings: Travel anxiety, some very mild angst, discussions of parental death, brief language, lots of fluff.
If you had to rank your preferred modes of transportation, flying would probably be at the bottom of the list, beat only perhaps by public bus or bicycle. It seemed that no matter how hard you tried to make it as smooth and easy a journey as possible, your experiences at the airport always turned into one catastrophe after another.
Your flight this morning was supposed to take off at 9:30am, which meant that you had scheduled the start of your day to ensure that you would be at the airport no later than 7:15, accounting for traffic and long lines at check-in and security. That, of course, meant that you had to leave your best friend, Katie’s house in Fredericksburg at 5:45 on the dot in order to make the sixty-one mile trip to Charlottesville-Albemarle Airport, and that was being generous. If the two of you stopped for coffee—which Katie insisted was a must—that alone had the potential to derail your plans, which had you nervously fiddling with the bracelet you never took off, the one your dad had given you as a gift for your high school graduation.
“Relax,” Katie laughed, taking her eyes off the road for only a moment to reach out and squeeze your hands reassuringly, halting your anxious movements. “You’re going to get there with plenty of time to spare. There’s literally no one on earth who’s a more responsible flier than you. Have you ever even come close to missing a flight?”
“No,” you admitted sheepishly, taking a small sip of your hazelnut iced coffee. It did little to calm your nerves, but it was one of the best iced coffees you’d ever tasted.
“Of course you haven’t,” Katie smiled, her eyes back in front of her as she signaled to merge into another lane. “So just take a deep breath and enjoy all this gorgeous fall foliage. I’m going to get you there without incident, I promise.”
Katie knew better than pretty much anyone how much flying tended to stress you out. The two of you had been attached at the hip since the first day of kindergarten. Your friendship had survived all the ups and down of adolescence, boy drama, the separation of going to colleges hundreds of miles apart, heartache, loss, and so much more. She was truly the sister you never had, and you couldn’t be more grateful to have her in your life. Even now that you were living in San Diego, and Katie and her husband had moved to Fredericksburg, Virginia for Josh’s job, nothing could keep the two of you apart.
Using a little bit of the vacation time you’d accumulated at work, you’d taken a long weekend to fly out and surprise Katie for her and Josh’s housewarming party. It had been months since you had seen your best friend in person, and the two of you had spent the past few days acting like a couple of high schoolers, staying up all night eating junk food and keeping poor Josh awake with your loud and hysterical fits of laughter.
You hadn’t realized just how lonely you’d been, all by yourself in San Diego, until you’d witnessed up close how cozy and happy Katie’s life in Virginia was.
It wasn’t that you were jealous of Katie, not by any means. She and Josh had met in college, and you were thrilled that your best friend in the whole world had found her person, the one who was going to be there to hold her hand through life and love her through every up and every down. You had even shed a few happy tears when Katie had confided in you this past weekend that she and Josh were finally trying for a baby.
You weren’t jealous, but you desperately longed for what she had. While Katie and Josh had been happily in love since sophomore year, your love life had been decidedly marked by one failed relationship after another. The most painful of which had been your last boyfriend, Andrew. That breakup had been what had propelled you to accept the job offer that had taken you to San Diego almost a year ago.
“Screw Andrew!” Katie had told you as she’d helped you pack up your entire life into a few suitcases and boxes. “You’re headed to the Hottie Capital of America!”
“I must have missed that moniker on the travel brochures,” you responded dryly, although it was the first time you’d felt the urge to laugh in weeks.
“Um, hello, missy. It’s literally called ‘Fightertown USA,’” Katie said, stopping what she was doing to turn and face you, hands on her hips. “You’re going to end up with some sexy fighter pilot, and I am literally going to wither away with envy,” she giggled, winking at you.
“Yeah, right,” you smiled despite yourself, nudging her playfully.
“It’s true,” Katie sighed, feigning dramatics as she draped a hand across her forehead and swooned onto your bed. “I can see it now. You’re going to make the cutest little Marine or Navy wife.”
And yet, for all of Katie’s confidence, there you were, a whole year later, just as single as you had been when you’d first arrived in Fightertown.
It wasn’t to say you were completely on your own. You’d made some really good friends at work, and you got along with all of your neighbors. You’d even gone on a few dates with some guys from North Island. But none that ever went anywhere.
Spending the weekend with Katie and Josh, being reminded of just how in love the two of them were, made you wonder if it was ever going to be your turn.
“You okay?” Katie asked, breaking your silent reverie as she took the exit leading towards the airport in Charlottesville. It wasn’t necessarily the closest airport, but it was the only one for today that offered the flight you needed to get back home. “You seem so quiet.”
“Hm? Oh, yeah,” you nodded distractedly, smiling as you took another sip of your iced coffee. “Just a little tired, I guess.”
How could you possibly tell your best friend that seeing her happiness caused an ache inside your chest that hurt like nothing else you’d ever known? You couldn’t. It made you feel guilty enough just to admit it to yourself.
“Feeling a little nervous about your flight?” she pressed, reaching for her own iced coffee as the car came to a halt at a red light. “I know it’s long, and you hate connecting flights, but I stuck some Benadryl packets in your bag, if that helps at all. It sucks that you have such a hard time sleeping on planes.”
Smiling, you leaned over and pressed an affectionate kiss to her cheek. What had you ever done to deserve such a good friend? And there you were, lamenting about all the things she had that you didn’t.
“You’re the best,” you told her sincerely, giving her shoulder a small squeeze. “I’m so glad I was able to get down here this weekend.”
Katie beamed brightly, reaching up to squeeze your hand before placing hers back on the steering wheel. “You’re telling me. It was the best surprise ever. I’m just sad I can’t keep you here longer.”
“I’ll be back soon,” you promised, trying to mentally calculate when you might be able to get time off from work again.
“Maybe you can come down for Christmas this year?” Katie suggested hopefully, glancing over at you with her big green eyes.
“Maybe,” you nodded, twisting your bracelet once more as you saw the signs for the airport approaching. “Or maybe I can fly you and Josh out to San Diego.”
“Oh, yes! Christmas on the beach? Sounds perfect,” Katie grinned, looking out for the sign for departing flights.
All too soon, Katie was pulling up in front of the Delta terminal where your flight would be taking off in just a few hours.
“See? Only 7:11! I got you here ahead of your insane schedule, even with the stop for coffee,” your best friend teased, a twinkle in her eye as she indicated the time on the dashboard.
“Yeah, yeah,” you waved her off, laughing out loud as she swatted your hand jokingly.
The two of you climbed out of the car to grab your luggage from the trunk. You’d done your best to pack lightly, which was never an easy task for you, even just for a weekend trip. But somehow, you’d managed to squeeze everything you needed into a carry-on bag. Well, that and a giant duffel that you were claiming was a purse.
“Ugh, goodbyes make me crazy,” Katie shook her head, clearly trying to hide the tears that were brimming in her eyes, which caused tears to spring to your eyes as the two of you reached for each other.
“I love you so much,” you told her, squeezing her tightly as she rocked you back and forth in her arms. “I’ll call you when I land.”
“Text me when you get to your gate,” she said, pulling back and taking your hands in hers. “And let me know if there are any cuties on your flight,” she added with a grin, waggling her eyebrows suggestively.
“I doubt I’m going to bag any cuties looking like this,” you countered sarcastically, indicating the yoga pants and oversized sweatshirt you’d donned that morning, as well as the messy bun you’d thrown your hair into.
“Shut up, you’re gorgeous no matter what,” Katie scolded you, swatting you on the butt. “Now get going. We wouldn’t want you being late or anything like that,” she joked.
You laughed as well, though your heart ached a bit as you grabbed the handle of your suitcase and began turning towards the doors of the terminal.
“Love you! Talk to you soon!” Katie called out, waving and blowing kisses.
You threw one more wave your best friend’s way, then disappeared inside the terminal, which was already fairly crowded despite the early hour.
As expected, despite the fact that you’d taken pains to get there early and make sure you were on top of everything, the unlucky cloud that seemed to follow you whenever you flew made its appearance once again.
You of course ended up on the slowest moving line at security, only to be heavily questioned by the TSA agent who seemed to be under the impression that you looked nothing like the photo on your driver’s license. Then, when you finally got to the security scanners, you set off the metal detector and had to be publicly groped by another sour-faced TSA agent. As if that wasn’t bad enough, your suitcase was “randomly selected” for extra testing and security checks.
Katie may have loved to tease you about it, but this was precisely the reason why you always left as early as you did to get to the airport.
By the time you were finally rolling your suitcase towards your gate, you were feeling more frazzled than ever. Naturally, the gate had changed since your boarding pass had been printed, and now you had to trek halfway across the airport to find the new one.
You wondered what it felt like to be one of those lucky travelers whose gate was right at the center of the terminal, right near all the restaurants and shops. It had never been you. Without fail, no matter where or when you were flying, your gate always ended up being at the farthest corner of the terminal.
When you finally arrived, triple checking that the gate number matched your flight information, you let out a heavy sigh as you grabbed an open seat at the end of the row. To your surprise, you found that you were seated right next to an open outlet. You never got that lucky.
Turns out, you really did never get that lucky. When you plugged your phone in, you found that it wasn’t charging. Evidently, the outlet was open because it didn’t actually work.
Muttering under your breath, you unplugged your charger and threw it back into your duffel bag. At least your phone was still on 74%. You’d much prefer to have it fully charged, but this would do until you could charge it on the plane.
Glancing down, you realized that you had missed a text from Katie.
At the gate yet???
Rolling your shoulders back and getting more comfortable in your seat, you opened up the message so that you could send a quick response.
Just got here. You’d think I was on the No Fly List with how long it took me to get here.
Katie must have made good time getting home, because it wasn’t long before your phone was buzzing with another text.
😂😂😂 Get yourself a drink!
Katie, it’s not even 9am…
So? A mimosa then!
You laughed, shaking your head. A mimosa didn’t actually sound like such a bad idea right now. Neither did a large iced coffee. But now that you’d finally made it to your gate, you didn’t feel like dragging all your stuff with you across the terminal once again. And you didn’t feel comfortable leaving your things behind, unattended or even in the care of a stranger. Maybe you’d just order one on the plane.
When your phone buzzed again in your lap, you looked down and saw that it was another text from Katie.
Any cuties to share that mimosa with???
You were about to text her back that right now, the only cuties you could see were an adorable four-year-old and an elderly couple who must have been in their eighties when suddenly, the most gorgeous man you had ever seen in your life appeared, as if out of thin air. You were suddenly glad you didn’t have a mimosa or an iced coffee in hand, for you were certain that you would have spit it out in shock upon seeing this guy.
Jaw hanging open and eyes widening, your brain was too fuzzy from lack of sleep to remind you that it was wholly inappropriate and rude to stare.
He truly had to be the hottest man you had ever seen up close in real life. Tall, with broad, thick shoulders and a muscular build. His hair was a golden brown that looked like it was touched frequently by the sun—as did his skin, which was an amusing combination of both tan and pink, as though he should have applied just a pinch more sunscreen than he had. Most surprising of all was the mustache that made your stomach do a strange little flip. You usually weren’t all that attracted to facial hair of any sort, and most guys couldn’t pull off the mustaches they tried to sport, but this particular mustache was the sexiest thing you had ever seen. And somehow, despite not knowing this man from a hole in the wall, you couldn’t imagine him without it. It was like it was a part of his DNA.
Thankfully, he was still staring down at his boarding pass, so he hadn’t noticed your intense scrutiny. Coming to your senses, you closed your mouth and quickly averted your gaze, your cheeks growing hot with embarrassment. How mortifying. Imagine if he had looked over and caught you staring at him, gaping like a fish out of water?
Still, despite your self-consciousness at the thought of getting caught, you couldn’t help but steal another glance in his direction, this time out of the corner of your eye. He looked even taller this time around. It probably had something to do with the way he carried himself, an easy confidence pouring off him. This man knew he was hot stuff, of that you were sure. But there was also something unassuming about him, something quiet and almost humble. He was dressed in a pair of dark sweatpants and an old UVA T-shirt, nothing fancy or flashy. Somehow, however, he managed to pull it off even better than a three-piece suit.
You were startled out of your observations when your phone buzzed again. It was Katie, emphasizing her last message impatiently.
Do you have some kind of magic powers that I was unaware of to make hotties appear out of nowhere? Right when you texted me, the hottest guy I’ve ever seen walked up to my gate.
‼️‼️ GO TALK TO HIM!!! ‼️‼️
At the mere suggestion of going to talk to that guy, your stomach erupted into butterflies. Looking up once again, you saw that he had evidently confirmed he was at the right gate, and had settled down in a seat a couple rows over, facing away from you. God, even the back of his head was handsome.
Are you crazy? This guy is seriously the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen. I look like a homeless lady that wandered in off the street. I am NOT talking to him!
Your phone buzzed angrily a moment later.
Will you shut up before I drive back there to hit you upside the head?! YOU are gorgeous!!! Who cares if you have no make-up on and your hair’s in a messy bun? It’s called airplane chic! You’re still completely stunning. He would be LUCKY to have a girl as hot as you want to talk to him!
Chewing your bottom lip, you looked up again, trying not to be obvious as your eyes slowly wandered over the people at your gate, until they landed on him once more. He was on the phone this time, having an animated conversation with whoever was on the other end of the line. Occasionally, he would turn slightly in your direction and you could catch a glimpse of his side profile.
Damn, this man was seriously perfect from every angle.
“Alright, Mav, I’ll see you when I land,” you heard him say—not that you were trying to eavesdrop—before he hung up the phone and dropped it back onto his lap.
It was then that you noticed his phone was plugged into the outlet next to his seat.
Maybe this could be your opportunity? You could casually walk over and see if there were any other open outlets near his. Perhaps you could even make a joke about how it was just your luck that the outlet near your seat wasn’t working. Maybe he’d laugh and tell you some horror story from his travel experiences and the two of you would end up talking until you exchanged numbers. Maybe there was some tiny, infinitesimal chance that this stunning man would actually be charmed by you and possibly even the teensiest bit interested.
Or maybe you would just remain rooted to your seat, terrified to move as you stared at the back of his head.
You were already anticipating the text from Katie when your phone buzzed once again.
The reason you’re not answering me better be because you’re in the middle of a conversation with Mr. Hottie from your gate!!!
Biting down on your lip, you turned your phone over, not knowing how to tell your best friend that you were too much of a chicken to get out of your seat and approach this guy.
At that moment, however, you were suddenly saved, at least somewhat, when a member of the flight crew announced that they were about to begin boarding. Forgetting about Katie’s texts and the hot guy sitting several feet away from you for a moment, you began gathering together all your belongings, making sure you hadn’t forgotten anything.
When your boarding group was called, you did one final sweep around your seat, securing the strap of your duffel bag up on your shoulder and wrapping one hand around the handle of your carry-on before making your way to the line extending from the counter.
As you stepped up behind the elderly couple you’d noticed earlier, your boarding pass slipped out of your hand, floating through the air despite your best attempt to reach for it, and landing somewhere behind you.
Turning to find it, you nearly collided with the tall wall of man behind you, who was bending at the same time to grab it off the floor.
“Oh!” you gasped, startled to find that Mr. Hottie, as Katie had dubbed him, was not only standing behind you in line, but was also holding your boarding pass in his hand, glancing down at it.
“San Diego with a layover in Atlanta, huh?” he grinned, glancing from the boarding pass up to your face. Unsurprisingly, he had a beautiful set of whiskey-colored eyes that made your stomach do the same strange little flip that his mustache had induced. Oh, and up close, the mustache was even sexier.
“Oh, um, yeah,” you nodded dumbly, your tongue suddenly feeling like it weighed a thousand pounds as your brain short-circuited and couldn’t come up with a single worthwhile thing to say.
“Glad to know I’m not the only one,” Mr. Hottie went on, holding your boarding pass out to you. “Looks like we’ve got a long day of flying ahead of us.”
Mouth hanging open, you slowly reached out and took the boarding pass from him, trying frantically to think of something—anything—to say. He was flying to San Diego, too? You were on the same exact flight? Including the same layover?
“I—I—”
“Hey, the line's moving!” someone from the back called out, sounding annoyed.
Turning back over your shoulder, you were mortified to see that the elderly couple in front of you had disappeared and you were, in fact, holding up the line.
“Oh, um, I’m sorry,” you mumbled, ducking your head as you clutched your boarding pass and reached out for your carry-on. “Thanks again for grabbing this for me,” you told Mr. Hottie, waving your boarding pass slightly before turning and practically running towards the counter.
With his long stride, he caught up to you in no time, his smile friendly and warm as the two of you joined the line of people waiting to board the airplane.
“You weren’t holding anyone up,” he whispered down to you, as if it was some special secret the two of you were sharing. “I don’t know what that guy was in such a rush for. To move from that line to this one? We’re all getting out of here at the same time.”
You smiled at his words, feeling comforted by his reassurance. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Some people are just always in a hurry.”
The two of you were quiet after that, and you wondered if that would be the end of the conversation. You were casting around for anything else you could talk about when he suddenly asked you, “So are you leaving home or heading home?”
Your heart fluttered at his question. If he didn’t want to keep talking, he wouldn’t have asked that, right?
“Heading home,” you told him, fiddling shyly with your bracelet. You laughed softly. “It’s still kind of weird saying that. I’ve only been in San Diego for about eleven months.”
He raised his eyebrow, one corner of his mouth turning up in a smile. “Yeah? Well, I know I’m a little late, but welcome to Fightertown. I hope it’s been treating you well.”
“Oh, it has been,” you nodded, making sure to pay attention to when the people in front of you began moving forward. “I take it you’re heading home then, too?”
“I am,” he grinned, shouldering the backpack he was carrying with him. “Well, actually, I’m kind of leaving home and heading home,” he amended. At your curious look, he explained, “I’m from Virginia originally, but I live in San Diego now. I guess you could say I’m a transplant, just like you,” he added with a chuckle. “Are you from Virginia, too?”
“New York, actually,” you told him, as the two of you followed the flow of people towards the plane. “But my best friend and her husband moved to Fredericksburg recently, so I was spending the weekend with them.”
“Ah, that’s a nice area,” he nodded, rubbing the back of his neck as he glanced down at you with a smile. At your unspoken question, he said, “I was actually down for a reunion weekend at my school. I went to UVA.”
“I gathered,” you replied teasingly, indicating his T-shirt.
Glancing downward, he shook his head and laughed. “Almost forgot I threw this on when I woke up. Trying to get to the airport on time is a real pain, isn’t it?”
“Absolutely,” you agreed with a laugh, adjusting your hold on your duffel bag. “Flying is definitely one of my least favorite modes of transportation.”
“Hmm, I don’t know if I’d say that,” he said in reply, an amused look on his face.
Before you could ask him what was so funny, however, you were being welcomed aboard the plane by the stewardesses, who were all smiling and indicating that they expected you to keep moving down the aisle.
Your heart dropped slightly at the abrupt end to your conversation. Now the two of you were going to go to your separate seats, and he’d probably forget all about you. It was one thing to make idle conversation with a stranger while on line, but you doubted he had any real interest in continuing the conversation beyond that.
Sighing softly, you rolled your suitcase down the aisle, pausing every now and then as the people in front of you put their bags in the overhead bins and got themselves sorted. When you finally reached Row 22, you stopped and looked back at Mr. Hottie with an apologetic smile.
“Sorry, this is me. I’ll just be a minute,” you told him, pushing down the handle of your carry-on.
“No worries, this is me,” he grinned, indicating Row 21. “I even snagged the window seat,” he added with a wink.
Your mouth went dry. He had the window seat of Row 21. You had the window seat of Row 22. He was sitting directly in front of you.
“Here, let me help you with that,” he said, reaching for your carry-on bag and easily hefting it above his head, sliding it into the overhead bin for you. “Do you need me to put this one up there, too?” he asked, pointing towards your duffel bag.
“Oh, no, it’s okay,” you shook your head, holding onto the strap of your bag. “I’m going to keep this one with me. Thanks a lot,” you smiled, not even noticing the line of disgruntled people that was beginning to form behind the two of you.
“No problem,” he smiled, starting to slide into his row with his backpack still on his back. “Have a great flight.”
“You, too,” you replied, a little sadly, as you crawled into your row, doing your best to ignore the annoyed looks some people were throwing your way.
Needless to say, it was just your luck that the impatient man from the boarding line ended up sitting right beside you. You tried to smile at him, but he just grunted and put his headphones on, completely ignoring you.
Fine by you. Pulling your phone out, you found that you had a whole new series of texts from Katie, demanding to know exactly what was happening.
On the plane now. We should be taking off soon. I talked a little bit to Mr. Hottie. Are you happy?
It didn’t take long at all for her to respond. You could imagine that she had been sitting by her phone, waiting eagerly for your message.
Eeeee, yes, very! What did you guys talk about? Are you sitting near each other on the plane? Did you exchange numbers??? Send me a picture!!!
You laughed softly to yourself as you tried your best to answer all the questions your excited friend had asked you.
Just small talk. He’s actually flying home to San Diego, too. He went to UVA and was there for a reunion weekend. We did not exchange numbers and I’m not going to be a creepy stalker and take a picture of him, but he actually is sitting in the seat right in front of me.
OMG, IT’S FATE!!! So he has the same layover and everything??? And he’s FROM San Diego?! Babe, this is the guy for you!!! You’ve got to keep talking to him!
How would you suggest I do that? Just tap him on the shoulder and whisper into his ear the whole time?
It’s only a couple hours to Atlanta, and then you’ll have the layover, and then another four and half hours to San Diego. You could practically be engaged by the time you land! Just slip him a little note or something. Give him your number!
Your stomach was doing somersaults at the mere thought. Between the two of you, Katie had always been the more outgoing one. She would have no problem slipping a note with her phone number on it to a complete stranger, putting herself out there for the possibility of rejection and utter humiliation. You, on the other hand, preferred to play it safe. It was much more comfortable that way. And sure, maybe you’d never met your Josh the way Katie had, but at least you’d never been hurt too badly, right?
Unbidden, you thought of Andrew and felt bile rise in your throat.
Luckily, you were saved from having to answer Katie right away when the cabin crew made the announcement that it was time to shut down all electronics. Switching your phone onto airplane mode, you slipped it into the front pocket of your duffel bag and took a deep breath, buckling your seatbelt and closing your eyes.
Takeoff was your least favorite part of any flight. When you were a little girl, your parents used to make funny faces and sing silly songs to distract you from your terror. Even now as an adult who was flying all on her own, you still tried to remember the sound of their voices as the plane began its ascent.
It didn’t take too long before you were finally cruising at 18,000 feet and the captain turned off the seatbelt sign. Since you were a Delta SkyMiles member, you got free Wi-Fi on all your flights, so you immediately reached to turn your phone back on to let Katie know you had taken off safely.
As soon as your phone connected with the Wi-Fi, it was instantly flooded with a slew of text messages. A couple were from some of your friends back in San Diego, wishing you a safe and easy flight, but most were from your crazy best friend.
Don’t think you can use being on a plane as an excuse not to answer my texts!
I know you’re a SkyMiles member and you can see these messages!
You better answer me!!!
Shaking your head, you quickly tapped out a quick message in response.
Took off safely. Thinking of watching a movie before we land in Atlanta. You’re crazy and I am not slipping him a note.
Your phone was blessedly quiet for the next several minutes, and part of you hoped that Katie had given up this ridiculous notion. Knowing her as long as you had, however, you should have figured that wouldn’t be the case.
What’s the worst that could happen? He doesn’t answer you? The two of you never talk again? You’ve never seen this guy before in your life, and the chances are good that you’ll never see him again after this. So if you put yourself out there and it doesn’t work out, who cares? At least you tried. And sure, it might be a little embarrassing at first, but like I said, you’ll never have to see him again. But what if you thought about it the other way around? What if it DOES work out? What if this could be the start of something great? Would you really just want to walk away, wondering what could have been and regretting that you didn’t take a chance? You deserve to be loved so, so, SO much! And I know that you have so much love to give! This guy would be lucky if you chose him. Just give it a try, will you? For me? Please! You can’t see it, but I’m giving my best puppy dog face right now. And sending you all the best vibes! You can do this! I love you! ♥���
You groaned at your best friend’s heartfelt message. How could you possibly say no to that? You knew Katie just wanted the best for you, and she wanted you to be happy. You wanted to be happy, too. What if she was right? What if this was your chance? Would you be a fool to just walk away from it without even trying? Like Katie said, at least if you tried, you could say you’d done all you could. And if it didn’t work, then Mr. Hottie just wasn’t the one for you. No harm, no foul.
You were starting to feel like you might need to make use of the vomit bag tucked securely in the seat pocket in front of you when the stewardess stopped at your row to offer you all snacks and beverages. You gratefully accepted a can of ginger ale and a packet of pretzels, nibbling on them slowly in an attempt to settle your roiling stomach.
You were being an idiot. There was no reason to be so dramatic about all this. You could write a quick note and pass it up to him, then pretend it had never happened. Seriously, what was the worst that was going to happen? He was going to get up and make an announcement over the loudspeaker that the girl sitting in 22A was a pathetic, lonely loser? You doubted that very much.
Before you could lose your nerve, you reached into the front pocket of your duffel bag and pulled out the pen you always kept there. Turns out, it really did come in handy. Mercifully, the grumpy man beside you was already snoring, so you could write your note in peace without being worried about him seeing what you were doing.
Hand shaking slightly, you penned a quick letter to the handsome, charming man in 21A.
Hi there. I realized in all our talking that I never caught your name. But it might be good to know, seeing how we’re layover buddies and all. Hope you’re enjoying the flight so far.
You signed your name at the bottom, and then took a deep breath, reading over what you had written on the back of your Delta napkin. It sounded impossibly stupid, but you’d come this far and you weren’t going to turn back now. What was it that people on the internet were always saying? Something about shooting your shot?
Breathing through your nose to avoid getting sick, you reached out a trembling finger and lightly tapped the broad shoulder that you saw peeking out from the seat in front of you. You suddenly realized that he may have been asleep and panicked at the thought of waking him up, but he shifted immediately at your touch and you could tell that he was turning towards you.
Not wanting to meet his eye, you immediately thrust your napkin into the small open space between your seats and the windows, silently praying that he would take it from you instead of laughing in your face.
A second later, you felt his large fingers brush against yours as he took your little note, shifting in his seat once more so that he was facing front again.
What had you just done? Oh, God, there was still another hour left to go on this flight, then a layover, and another four and half hours to San Diego. True, you would never have to see him again after you landed in California, but that was still a lot of time left to have to be in proximity to him if all of this blew up in your face.
You were just about ready to launch yourself out of one of the emergency exits when you suddenly looked up and realized that there was a small white napkin hovering above your head.
Mr. Hottie in 21A was reaching back with your note in hand. Your stomach plummeted and your face and neck grew warm with shame at the thought of him returning the letter you’d written him, until you noticed the red ink on the back of it.
You’d written your note in black ink.
Slowly reaching out, you took the napkin from his hand, your fingers brushing against each other once more. His were large and warm and calloused and made goosebumps rise on your arm.
Pulse beating rapidly, you turned over the napkin to see the response he had written on the back. His handwriting was a bit messy, more of a scrawl than anything, but it made you smile to look at it.
What was I thinking, not properly introducing myself to my layover buddy? Hope you can forgive me. My name is Bradley. I don’t suppose there’s any chance you’ve got some Wi-Fi on this flight, do you? If you do, feel free to text me. We seem to be dangerously low on napkins.
At the bottom, he’d written his cell phone number.
Pressing a hand over your mouth, it took everything in you to swallow back the squeal of delight that rose up your throat. It worked! Katie’s silly plan had actually worked! Oh, she was going to gloat about this forever when you told her.
Beaming brightly, you pulled out your cell phone. As much as you loved her, Katie could wait right now. You had an extremely gorgeous layover buddy to get in touch with.
Typing his number into your cell phone, you opened up a new message and contemplated what to say for a moment.
Layover buddies who both just so happen to have some inflight Wi-Fi? Clearly it’s meant to be.
You hoped the message came across as cute and flirty instead of desperate and weird as you hit send, anxiously waiting to see if he would reply.
It took only a moment before your phone buzzed, Bradley’s name lighting up your screen.
Layover buddies who both just so happen have some inflight Wi-Fi AND spring for the window seats? Obviously it’s meant to be!
You smiled and were about to think up a reply when another message suddenly came though.
Oh, and to answer your note—I’m enjoying the flight a lot more now.
The butterflies went crazy in your stomach as you wrote back to him.
Me, too. And that’s saying a lot, considering the four-year-old behind me hasn’t stopped kicking my seat since we boarded.
Bradley only took seconds to reply.
Oof, that’s rough. If I could switch seats with you, I would. But I have to admit that I’m very happy that you’re not kicking my seat.
Wouldn’t be too sure about that, you sent back teasingly before lightly nudging his seat with your foot.
Hey! I thought we were friends!
We’ll see 😉
You and Bradley went back and forth like that for the entire remainder of your flight to Atlanta, the banter light and easy as you teased and joked with each other. You even ended up playing a game of 20 Questions, in which you learned, among other things, that Bradley’s favorite color was red, he once broke his arm when he was seven years old, and he absolutely despised peas.
As the captain announced that you would soon begin preparing for your final descent, you shot off a quick message to Katie, who you had woefully neglected during your conversation with Bradley.
I owe you one. The pep talk and the plan actually worked—I’m texting Mr. Hottie as we speak! Update you soon. We’re about to land in Atlanta.
Just as you sent the message off to your friend, another text from Bradley arrived.
Looks like we’re going to have to turn off our phones, layover buddy. I’ll see you when we land. Food? I’m starving.
Grinning, you had to pinch yourself to check that this wasn’t some sort of elaborate dream.
Same. I’ll race you for some french fries.
You’re on.
When the plane finally landed and the captain turned off the seatbelt sign, everyone practically jumped out of their seats in a mad dash to see who could be the first to get their belongings out of the overhead bins. Since you and Bradley were in the window seats, you took your time, knowing you weren’t getting off the plane anytime soon.
You were surprised, however, when he suddenly popped his head over the back of his seat, grinning down at you. “Good thing our next flight doesn’t leave for a couple hours yet,” he said, indicating the crowd with a good-natured grin that made your heart melt.
You had almost been starting to think you’d exaggerated just how good-looking he was, but nope. He really was that hot.
“Plenty of time to grab those fries,” you laughed, smiling up at him.
When you and Bradley were finally able to step out into the aisle, he opened the bin above your head and reached for your suitcase.
“Let me take care of this for you,” he said, lowering it to the ground and lifting the handle so that he could wheel it up the aisle.
“Oh, you don’t have to,” you insisted, not wanting him to think that you expected him to carry your things for you.
“Hey, what are layover buddies for?” he winked, leading the way off the plane.
Once the two of you were standing face to face in the middle of the airport terminal, you began to feel a little shy and self-conscious again. It had been easy to talk to Bradley via text, but now that you were gazing up at his handsome face again, you suddenly found yourself getting just as tongue-tied as before.
Bradley seemed to sense your nerves because he smiled warmly at you, his demeanor just as open and friendly as it had been the entire time you’d known him.
“How about we hunt down those fries?” he suggested, waiting until you smiled and nodded before turning and guiding you towards the main concourse.
The two of you ended up finding a quick and easy little fast food counter, where you ordered a couple burgers, a large order of fries, and some vanilla milkshakes with whipped cream and cherries. As soon as it became clear that Bradley was going to pay for both your meals, you tried to argue and insist on paying your share, but he wouldn’t hear it.
“My mom raised a gentleman, and she would kill me if she thought I was even thinking of letting my layover buddy pay for her lunch,” he told you, winking playfully as he handed his credit card to the employee behind the counter.
You took your suitcase from Bradley as he balanced the tray with your food in his hands, leading you to an empty table towards the end of the concourse.
“Your mom must be very proud of you, I’m sure,” you grinned, reaching eagerly for a fry and popping it into your mouth. “Did you get to see her while you were in Virginia?”
Bradley smiled, though his eyes suddenly looked a little sad. “Yeah. Yeah, you could say that.”
Deciding not to press the matter, you instead turned the attention to his college reunion. That led to the two of you happily swapping stories about your time in college, which landed you on the subject of what you do now.
“A naval aviator? Really? And a TOPGUN graduate? That’s very impressive,” you gushed, mentally picturing him in a flight suit. You’d gone on a couple dates with some naval aviators from North Island, but none as handsome or as charming as Bradley. You suddenly groaned and covered your face with your hand when you remembered what you’d said to him right before boarding the plane. “So that’s what you meant when I was saying that flying isn’t my favorite mode of transportation,” you murmured, feeling a little embarrassed.
Bradley threw his head back and laughed at that, looking genuinely amused. “Hey, I get it. Flying isn’t for everybody. Trust me, some days I wish I had just opted for a desk job,” he grinned, his muscles flexing as he stretched in his seat. “But there’s nothing quite like it, when you’re the one doing the flying. Maybe one day I can take you up in the air and change your mind.”
He looked across the table at you and held your gaze, and you felt sure in that moment that you would have promised him anything he asked.
“So what’s your call sign then?” you asked with a smile, resting your cheek in your hand as you looked into his eyes.
“Oh, you know about that, huh?” he chuckled, the tips of his ears turning pink. “Well, uh, they call me Rooster.”
You had a feeling he expected you to laugh—maybe other girls in the past had—but you just grinned brightly in response. “I like it,” you said simply. “It suits you.”
He let out a small breath and smiled in return. “Thank you. My dad’s call sign was Goose. So I guess it runs in the family.”
“Your dad is in the Navy, too?” you asked curiously, lifting your milkshake and taking a sip.
Bradley cleared his throat slightly, looking down at his lap. “He was. He died in a training accident at TOPGUN when I was two.”
You sucked in a breath at your own carelessness and looked across at Bradley with empathy glowing in your eyes. “Oh, Bradley,” you murmured softly, reaching out and resting a hand over his. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay,” he replied gently, a small smile on his face as he placed his other hand over yours. “But thank you.” He was quiet for a moment before he went on. “It was just me and my mom for a while, back home in Virginia. But she got sick when I was in high school, and she passed away my senior year.”
“Bradley,” you breathed out sadly, your heart breaking for him. You winced when you thought of what he’d said before, about seeing his mom while he was in Virginia.
“She and my dad are buried in my hometown, where I grew up. I go to see them at the cemetery whenever I’m back in town,” he explained, as if reading your thoughts.
“I’m sure that means a lot to them, and that they’re smiling down on you always,” you told him sincerely, squeezing his hand lightly.
He smiled up at you, the sadness in his expression lifting slightly. “I like to think so. I think they’d like you a lot,” he added, then looked away. He suddenly seemed embarrassed.
The two of you sat back, disentangling your hands as you sat in mildly awkward silence for a moment or two.
“What about your parents?” Bradley asked, clearly looking for a way to change the subject. “Do they still live in New York?”
It was your turn to look sad now. “Well, we actually have a lot in common, Bradley. Only I guess my story is sort of in reverse. My mom passed away when I was six years old. She got in a car accident on her way home from work. And my dad passed when I was a freshman in college. Lung cancer.”
“Shit,” Bradley muttered, shaking his head and running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”
“It’s okay,” you cut him off, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. “You couldn’t have known. And it feels kind of nice talking about it with someone who I know understands. You know what I mean?”
“Yeah,” Bradley nodded, his expression serious as his dark eyes rested on your face. “Yeah, I do.”
You and Bradley sat in companionable silence as you finished your meals, then checked to see how much time you had before your connecting flight.
“I guess we should start making our way over to the gate,” you suggested, glancing at the time on your phone. You had about ten text messages from Katie, but you were too embarrassed to open them anywhere near Bradley.
Bradley nodded in agreement, wordlessly taking the handle of your suitcase and leading you back across the concourse.
“Hey, we got so distracted talking about my job that I never even asked what you do,” he suddenly realized once the two of you were seated at your gate, both your phones charging in a nearby outlet.
“Oh, yeah,” you smiled, brushing a loose strand of hair that had escaped your bun behind your ear. “Funny enough, I actually work for the Midway Museum,” you told him, glancing up at him, only to find that he was already gazing down at you.
“No way! Guess we’re both stuck aboard aircraft carriers for work then,” he chuckled. “What do you do?”
“Well, my official title is digital content specialist,” you said, biting down on your lower lip. You felt like it always sounded a bit pretentious. “Basically, I help run the museum’s digital accounts—social media, their website, email blasts, things like that. My degree is in marketing and communications, so that’s basically what I do.”
“That’s amazing,” Bradley said, and you could tell that he genuinely meant it. Some guys just pretended to be interested in your job as a pretense for trying to get into your pants, but you could tell that Bradley actually cared about what you had to say. He was actually listening. “Is that what brought you out to San Diego?”
“It is, actually. I had been applying to a few different places, and when I got word from the Midway that they were interested in hiring me, I thought that maybe it was the fresh start I needed,” you confessed.
“Has it been?” Bradley asked quietly.
“I think so,” you nodded slowly, absent-mindedly twisting your bracelet around your wrist. “It’s hard sometimes, being so far away from my best friend, Katie—the one I was visiting. She’s pretty much the only family I’ve got left. But I like the life that I’m building in San Diego.”
“That’s good. I’m glad to hear it,” Bradley smiled, his hand lightly brushing against yours as he shifted in his seat. He looked like he was about to say more when the flight crew called your boarding group.
“Looks like we’re going to be sitting near each other again, 21A,” you teased, glancing down at his boarding pass as the two of you rose and grabbed your phones.
“Glad to hear it, 22A,” he joked in return, holding up his phone and waving it back and forth. “And now my phone is fully charged for our trip back to San Diego, so let the texting commence.”
Giggling, you nodded as the two of you walked down the rampway side by side and made your way onto the plane and to your seats without incident. When you got there, however, you saw that there had been some confusion with a young family that looked to have four children under the age of eight. It seemed as though their tickets had gotten split up so that they weren’t all sitting next to each other, and the mother was frantic.
“Excuse me, ma’am?” Bradley asked, quickly taking stock of the situation. When the woman looked up at him, clearly stressed out and worried he was going to yell at her, he smiled comfortingly. “I was just going to say that, if you’d like, you can have my seat. I’d be happy to take yours since it looks like it’s next to my friend here anyway. That way, we can all be comfortable and sit with the people we want to sit with.”
“Oh, thank you!” the young mother exclaimed, looking ready to hug Bradley. “Thank you!”
She and her husband quickly got their children settled, thanking Bradley a few more times for good measure, while he took your carry-on and set it in the overhead bin.
Once you had settled in your window seat, Bradley took the seat beside you, grinning impishly.
“Look at that. Now we don’t even need to waste the Wi-Fi,” he murmured, nudging you playfully.
“Things just have a way of working out for us today, don’t they?” you laughed, settling your duffel bag at your feet. “I’m just going to send a quick message to Katie, to let her know I made it onto my connecting flight,” you told him, reaching for your phone and quickly opening Katie’s messages so that Bradley wouldn’t see them.
“Good idea, I should text Mav,” Bradley said, grabbing his phone out of his pocket. At your confused look, he explained, “My godfather. He’s also in the Navy, and he also just so happens to be stationed out in San Diego. He’s going to pick me up at the airport.”
Nodding, you sent a brief text to your best friend, promising you would call her as soon as you got home, then settled in for the flight and tried to get as comfortable as possible.
As soon as you felt the plane jolt to life and begin taxing towards the runway, your chest grew tight and your grip on yours and Bradley’s shared armrest started to turn your knuckles white.
“Hey,” Bradley said softly, genuine concern in his voice as he glanced over and noticed how on edge you suddenly appeared. “You alright?”
“I’m fine,” you lied, keeping your gaze fixed straight ahead on the screen in front of you, which was currently playing some Delta commercial that your brain could scarcely register.
“I think your death grip on our armrest would suggest otherwise,” he pressed gently, his tone remaining light and good-humored. “You trying to take that thing with you?”
Startled, your nervous trance was broken and you glanced down to see what Bradley was talking about. Sure enough, your nails were digging into the armrest so intensely that you wouldn’t have been surprised if they left little crescent-shaped marks in their wake.
Letting out a shaky laugh, you looked up at the man beside you ruefully. “Okay, truth be told, I get a little anxious during takeoff,” you confessed, biting your lip in embarrassment. He would probably think that was silly. He was a fighter pilot, after all. His day job involved flying multi-million dollar aircrafts for the military. And here you were, acting like a scaredy cat over a commercial Delta flight.
Bradley’s eyes crinkled in a way that you found devastatingly charming as he smiled over at you. The look on his face was kind, without a single trace of mocking humor.
“Want to know a secret?” he whispered, leaning in closer to you so that his nose was nearly pressed against your cheek and you could feel his breath on your skin. “So do I.”
“You’re kidding,” you scoffed, shooting him a skeptical look. He was probably just trying to be nice. “But you’re a naval aviator!”
“Yeah, but I’m not the one flying this plane, am I?” he retorted with a lopsided grin. “It’s hard to put the reins in someone else’s hands. So I understand being nervous. Hell, I still get a little nervous sometimes when I’m flying an F-18. Just don’t tell anyone I said that,” he added, lowering his voice conspiratorially.
“Oh, of course not,” you giggled, smiling over at him. Glancing out the window, you realized that his conversation had distracted you so much, you hadn’t even noticed that the plane had finished its approach towards the runway and was officially waiting for takeoff.
Some of your nerves returned, and you gripped the armrest once more, but this time, you felt Bradley’s large, yet gentle fingers close over yours. Surprised, you turned your head sharply and instantly met his gaze. It was direct and disconcertingly open as he looked deeply into your eyes.
“It’s okay,” he assured you in a low voice, squeezing your fingers comfortingly. “We’re going to be okay.”
“My parents used to sing to me during takeoff,” you found yourself blurting out suddenly, your cheeks growing warm at the admission. “I can remember my mom doing it when I was a little girl, and my dad used to do it for me even when I was in high school,” you explained shyly, lowering your eyes to your lap.
At that moment, your stomach dropped as the plane suddenly began hurtling forward, seeking enough momentum to become airborne.
You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to recall the sound of your parents’ voices in order to calm your racing heart. But a new voice suddenly entered the mix as you felt your newfound flying buddy lean across the armrest, his warm body pressing against your side as he sang quietly in your ear.
“You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain…”
Wait a second. You knew that song. Where did you know that song from?
“Too much love drives a man insane. You broke my will, but what a thrill…”
Yes, you definitely knew that song. It was on one of the records your parents used to play when you were a little girl. Was it Jerry Lee Lewis?
Gasping in recognition, you whisper-sang the next lyric in harmony with Bradley—“Goodness gracious, great balls of fire!”
He laughed in delight when you began singing along, squeezing your hand with an affectionate grin. “And would you look at that,” he said, nodding towards the window. “We’re airborne. Wasn’t so bad, was it?”
Shocked, you followed his line of vision and were taken aback to see that you were already ascending into the clouds, leaving the city of Atlanta far behind. That had been one of the smoothest takeoff experiences you’d had in—well, you couldn’t even remember how long.
“I barely even noticed!” you exclaimed, focusing your attention back on Bradley. You smiled gratefully, your heart melting at the adorable puppy dog look on his face. “Thank you, Bradley.”
You noticed at that moment that he still hadn’t let go of your hand, and your pulse began to quicken, but this time for entirely different reasons.
“You’re welcome,” he murmured in response, his voice low and suddenly husky. It did something to you, that deep, raspy voice of his. “Happy to do it.” He squeezed your hand gently once more, then slowly—almost hesitantly—let it go.
“I haven’t heard that song in the longest time,” you told him, resting back against your seat. “My parents used to listen to it.”
Bradley smiled slightly. “It’s the one song I can actually remember my dad singing. He loved to sing and play the piano. My mom had tons of home videos of him doing it. But that song—that song I can actually remember hearing him sing, you know? I was so young when he—well—I can remember that one. And that’s why it’s my favorite to sing and play.”
“You play the piano, too?” you asked, impressed. “Wow, a man of many talents.” You nudged him playfully, a big smile on your face.
“I’ll have to show you what I can do,” Bradley replied, winking.
Your stomach fluttered at the implication that he might actually want to see you again after today.
“I’d like that,” you admitted, ducking your head shyly. You suddenly felt much more aware of everything around you, particularly every inch of your muscular seatmate. Goodness, he really was huge, wasn’t he? Chewing nervously on your bottom lip, you began fidgeting with your bracelet, tugging at it absent-mindedly.
“That’s a pretty bracelet,” Bradley commented, pointing at it as he watched you twist it back and forth around your wrist. “A gift?” he asked lightly, his tone almost a little too casual.
“Mhm,” you nodded, smiling fondly as you gazed down at it. You could still remember the day you opened it. “My dad bought it for me as a present when I graduated high school. I never take it off.”
“Ah,” Bradley nodded, appearing surprisingly relieved. He was quiet for a moment or two, looking like he was mulling over something. Then he turned towards you and asked, “So, um, is there anybody waiting for you in San Diego? Anyone, uh, special, I mean?” he asked, his cheeks and his ears turning red as he rubbed the back of his neck.
You felt your own skin grow warm in response. Was Bradley asking if you had a boyfriend? And was he embarrassed about it? Just when you thought this man couldn’t possibly charm you any more than he already had.
“Not unless you count my neighbor, Mrs. Flores. She really appreciates it when I walk her dog on the weekends,” you told him, your lips twitching as you tried to maintain a straight face.
Caught off guard by your response, Bradley let out a loud laugh, covering his mouth with one hand as he glanced down at you, eyes twinkling.
“I’m sure Mrs. Flores will be very happy to see you back again,” he nodded, tapping his fingers on his tray table.
The two of you sat in silence for a couple minutes until you finally glanced up and said, “I had actually just gotten out of a long-term relationship right before I moved to San Diego. It was kind of the catalyst for why I decided to take the job at the Midway Museum.”
“Oh, really?” Bradley asked, eyebrows shooting up. Then he cleared his throat, shaking his head. “I mean, I’m sorry to hear that. If it’s too personal, we don’t have to talk about it.”
“No, it’s okay,” you sighed, twirling your bracelet a few times as you thought back on your last failed relationship. Surprisingly, it didn’t hurt as much as it normally did. Maybe time really did heal all wounds. You took a deep breath before you elaborated. “Andrew and I were together for four years. For a long time, I really thought he was the one. Katie was convinced that he was going to propose on our trip to Greece. It was a dream vacation for me. I had the whole thing planned out for months and months. And I really started to let myself believe that it was going to happen.”
Bradley sat quietly, watching you carefully as he attentively took in every word you uttered.
“We were in Athens, and I had the whole day planned—all these tours and museums. But Andrew insisted that he was too tired since we had just traveled from Rhodes, and he begged me to let him stay behind at the hotel. Being the idiot that I am, I thought that maybe he wanted to put the finishing touches on his big proposal. So I went on the tours by myself. But the last tour ended early, so I came back to our hotel room a little sooner than expected.”
Your throat began to tighten as the story continued, the pain of what had happened next eclipsed only by your embarrassment that Bradley would soon know how pitifully your last relationship had ended. Why had you brought all this up?
“I’ll spare you all the details, but suffice it to say, I found Andrew in bed with one of the cocktail waitresses from the hotel bar. And to no one’s surprise, there was no ring and he never had any intention of proposing. So I flew home from Greece minus a boyfriend and with very little remaining of my dignity. Leaving everything behind and starting fresh in San Diego seemed like a really good idea, so when the Midway contacted me, I jumped at the offer. And here I am,” you finished with a self-conscious laugh, shrugging your shoulders awkwardly.
Bradley didn’t say anything at first, just continued to stare at you in a way that had you feeling distinctly exposed. Your fingers immediately went to your bracelet once again, nervously fidgeting and waiting for him to say something.
Reaching out, he placed his hand over yours and stilled your movements gently. “First of all,” he began slowly, looking directly into your eyes. It seemed as though he was peering directly into your soul. “Andrew is a complete and total loser. If he didn’t know what he had in you, then he never deserved you to begin with. It’s his loss, and trust me, he’ll be regretting it for the rest of his life if he has even an ounce of sense.” His thumb brushed lightly against your knuckles, making your legs suddenly feel like Jell-O. “Second of all, I’m so sorry. You didn’t deserve that, and I hope you know that the way that idiot treated you in no way says anything about you. I’ve only known you for a few hours, but I can see that that guy never deserved you to begin with.”
Feeling bashful, you lowered your head, trying to escape the intensity of Bradley’s dark eyes. It didn’t matter though—you could still feel his gaze.
“You don’t have to say that,” you murmured, not wanting him to think you had just unloaded all of this on him for sympathy points.
“I’m not just saying it,” he insisted, his voice serious. “You’re a special girl, and you deserve to be with someone who treats you that way.”
Someone like you?
The thought sprang unbidden to your mind, causing you to grow flustered. “Th–thank you,” you stammered, worried for half a second that Bradley could actually read your mind.
You were saved from having to make any further comment in that moment when the stewardess suddenly appeared with the food cart, asking you if you wanted any snacks or beverages.
You opted for a Diet Coke and popcorn, while Bradley took a Sprite and a bag of potato chips.
“What do you say? A little toast to my new flight buddy?” Bradley suggested teasingly, holding his can of soda out towards you.
You couldn’t help but smile, lightly tapping your can against his. “Cheers to us,” you laughed, taking a small sip.
“To us,” Bradley grinned. “You know,” he went on, after taking a gulp of his Sprite, “if you ever want to think about getting your pilot’s license, I’d be happy to have you as my wingman—er, woman.”
You laughed aloud at the notion, shaking your head. “Um, did you already forget about how well I handled takeoff? I’m not so sure anyone would trust me behind the controls of a plane.”
“I could teach you,” he shot back, waggling his eyebrows until you laughed again. “Or at the very least, take you up for a little joyride. I’d make sure to keep you safe.”
Your heart warmed at his words, and you found yourself wondering what it would be like to walk through life with this man, to have him be the one you came home to every day.
To have him be the one to make you feel like the most special girl in the world.
“I would like that,” you confessed, pushing your self-consciousness to the side as you looked into his eyes. “I would like that a lot.”
“So would I,” Bradley replied, his expression earnest.
For the next hour or two, you and Bradley shared some of the snacks you’d packed in your duffel bag and talked about everything and nothing at the same time. You had never felt so instantly at ease with someone who had been a complete and total stranger just a few hours earlier. The fact that he had been in San Diego all this time, right under your nose, and that it had taken a flight home all the way from Virginia for you two to actually meet felt like more than just a coincidence. It felt like this was exactly where you were supposed to be.
At some point, you must have finally succumbed to your exhaustion and fallen asleep because when the captain announced that you were making your final descent into San Diego International Airport, you were lifting your head off Bradley’s shoulder and blinking in confusion.
“Hello there, sleepyhead,” Bradley grinned, wiping a hand down his face and rubbing the sleep out of his own eyes.
“How long was I asleep?” you asked, stretching your arms over your head. “I never sleep on planes.”
“Well you definitely slept on this one. I’d say you were probably out for at least an hour and a half,” he told you, running a hand through his hair, which made his sunkissed curls stand on end. “I nodded out, too. Guess we both needed it, huh?”
“Yeah, guess so,” you nodded, smiling at him.
By the time you finally deplaned—after Bradley, of course, had insisted on taking down your carry-on suitcase from the overhead bin and rolling it through the airport for you—you were growing both eager and anxious with anticipation of what the end of your journey would look like.
You and Bradley technically already had each other’s phone numbers, so should you say something about getting together? Would that seem too brazen? Should you just text him tomorrow and hope that whatever spark had been ignited during your travels today wouldn’t be extinguished by the time you both got home?
All of those thoughts and more were running through your head as you and Bradley took the escalator down to baggage claim and the terminal exit.
“Do you, um, do you have somebody picking you up?” Bradley asked as the two of you stepped off the escalator. He stepped to the side to avoid the flow of the crowd, and you stepped with him. “Mrs. Flores perhaps?” he added with a teasing spark in his eye.
“No,” you giggled, shaking your head. “I was just planning to call an Uber.”
“No need,” he said, his chest puffing out ever so slightly. “Mav and I will give you a ride home. He should actually be here already,” he mumbled, almost to himself, as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and scrolled through his messages.
“Oh, you guys don’t have to do that. I wouldn’t want you going out of your way,” you hurried to tell him, noticing that Bradley still had his hand on the handle of your suitcase.
“Who says it would be going out of our way?” Bradley retorted with that impossibly charming smile of his. “Unless, of course, you’re more comfortable taking an Uber. I don’t want to make you feel like—”
“No, no, you’re not,” you interrupted, wanting to make it clear to him that you appreciated the offer.
Seemingly at an impasse, the two of you just looked at each other and started laughing.
“I would love a ride, thank you. If it’s not too much trouble,” you told him.
“Never,” Bradley insisted. “Besides, you put up with me all day. I owe you.”
“I could say the same thing,” you grinned, reaching into the front pocket of your duffel bag and pulling out your cell phone. “In the meantime, I should text Katie and let her know I landed safely and that you haven’t abducted me or anything,” you teased jokingly.
Too late, you realized your mistake.
“Ah, so you told Katie about me, huh?” Bradley smirked, looking just a tad too pleased with himself. “What did you say?”
“Oh, um, nothing, just that I made a friend while traveling,” you stammered in humiliation, your cheeks feeling like they were on fire. “I’m just, um, I’m going to step over there while you get your bag.”
“Sure, sure,” he laughed, winking at you as he hurried over to the baggage carousel to search for his suitcase.
“Oh my God, how stupid are you?” you muttered to yourself, mentally kicking yourself for your careless words as you sent off a quick message to your best friend to let her know you were alive.
A moment later, she texted you back.
YOU BETTER CALL ME THE MINUTE YOU GET HOME!!! I WANT EVERY. SINGLE. DETAIL!!!
Smiling, you dropped your phone back into your bag and looked up to see Bradley walking towards you, his suitcase in hand.
“Ready to head out?” he asked with a smile, watching as you grabbed the handle of your carry-on and did one quick scan to make sure you hadn’t dropped anything.
“Ready,” you nodded, following him outside to where a slew of Ubers and other cars were waiting to pick up their passengers.
“There’s Mav,” Bradley told you, pointing with his free hand towards the end of the pick-up line, where a handsome older man with dark hair and an easy smile was waving at you.
“Your godfather drives a Porsche?” you asked, your eyes nearly bugging out of your head at the sight of the vintage car. It was in pristine condition and you were certain it must have cost a small fortune.
“Technically, it’s his fiancée, Penny’s car, but she lets him drive it when he’s been good,” Bradley joked, resting a gentle hand on your back as he guided you through the crowd.
Bradley was quick to embrace his godfather when the two of you finally reached the Porsche, slapping him on the back before stepping back and holding out a hand to you. “Mav, I’d like you to meet my new travel buddy,” he grinned, introducing you by name.
Mav, as Bradley kept calling him, offered you one of those easy smiles as he held out his hand, which you took with a smile of your own.
“Ah, so this is the girl from the plane I’ve been hearing so much about,” Mav smirked, shooting a pointed look in his godson’s direction.
“Mav!” Bradley hissed through gritted teeth, his complexion instantly turning pink, even in the shade.
“Ah,” you smirked, feeling vindicated from your earlier blunder. “So you told Mav about me, huh?” you asked, nudging his side. “What did you say?” you teased, tossing back his question from before.
“Oh, he said plenty,” Mav jumped in, clearly enjoying watching Bradley squirm as he opened the passenger side door for you.
“Don’t listen to him. He’s crazy. All those Gs he’s always pulling have finally gone to his head,” Bradley protested, although he was smiling as he said it.
“Oh, I think I’m going to enjoy this car ride very much,” you giggled, winking at Bradley as you slid into your seat.
“Promise you’ll still like me by the time we get home?” Bradley whispered, leaning in close as he climbed in beside you.
You grinned up at him, thinking about how, for the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel so alone. San Diego suddenly felt much more like home than it ever had.
“Promise.”
#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw#rooster bradshaw#rooster x reader#bradley bradsaw x reader#x reader#x female reader#top gun#top gun: maverick#miles teller
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YOU HARDLY EVER SAW YOUR BOYFRIEND GET SCARED, LET ALONE CRY INFRONT OF YOU; so when you felt miles grip tighten on you in the middle of the night, your neck wet from tears and slight mumbling you quickly shook miles a little to wake him up. “What’s wrong amor?” You asked softly, wiping away tears with your thumb. Your heart almost broke when you saw miles look at you with such sadness and guilt in his eyes. “ ‘had a nightmare about you.” Miles’s voice was low and his eyes started to water again without him even noticing it, you quickly calmed him down and pulled him close to your chest. Pressing a kiss to the top of his head, before drawing circles in his back. “We don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to guapo, We can save that for tomorrow, just know that I’ll always be here for you miles.” Your nail then wrote out the words ‘I love you on his back’, before rubbing it up and down softly. “I love you too Mami.” It was faint but you heard it, a small smile tugged at your lips as you saw miles pull away from your chest to kiss your cheek. “So damn much.”
♡
You kissed Miles’s face relentlessly for 3 minutes until you saw that handsome smile again, “Do you think you can go to sleep now amor?” He hummed in response, burying his face in your chest as his arm wrapped once more around your waist. You had always loved the fact that you and his mother were the only people to have seen miles morales this soft, you especially loved that at the end of every day you’d both be tangled in each others arms. Laughing, crying, or judging other niggas in your shared classes. It didn’t matter, as long as it was with him. “Thank you princesa.”
“Always niño bonito.” <33
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#🌸. 𝐀 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐍 𝐁𝐘 𝐊𝐀𝐌#atsv fluff#atsv x you#atsv x black reader#atsv miles#42 miles morales#42 miles x fem!reader#earth 42 miles morales x reader#earth 42 miles x reader#miles morales prowler#earth 42 miles morales x you#earth 42 miles morales x female reader#earth 42 miles x you#earth 42 miles x black reader#earth 42 miles morales x black!reader#earth 42 miles fluff#atsv angst#miles angst
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🕷Envious or Jealous?🕸
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Miles Morales x fem reader (1 shot)
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• Envy or Jealousy?
• Siiiiiigh
• You were SO drawn between the two. You don't know how to feel. You don't actually hate Gwen, but, like...you couldn't help but feel BURNING irritation towards her. Why? Miles Morales. You have a serious crush on the guy, but it seems he's into her. So, now your feelings still remain stuck in your chest. Especially now!
• Last Saturday~
• "Ouch! Y/N, you're choking me!"
• "I wanna stop, really, but- Ah!"
• Right now, you two are currently swinging around Brooklyn. And you're clinging to Miles for dear life. Earlier, You jokingly asked him to take you around town. But, since he doesn't have a car (or know how to drive in gen') he decided to take you the fun way.
• "When are we gonna land!?"
• You shouted. The fear and adrenaline was REALLY getting to your bladder.
• "Let's get to the Brooklyn tower!"
• The what!?
• "That's like 100 miles away!"
• "Not the way we're going!"
• He laughed. Oh great. He's having the best time ever.
• "Let's cut this corner right here!"
• You tried to say you couldn't take it, but the swing made you shout once again. And, triggered your full lower organ.
• "You gotta put me down, I have to pee!"
• "Wait, what!?"
• "Hurry, it's coming!"
• "Hold on, lemme find a gas station!"
• After asking a sweet old lady to let you use her bathroom, the two of you now reside on top of a apartment building. (You took the stairs) You sighed, finally feeling content. You were moving at your own pace now.
• "It's a good thing she had bad eye sight,"
• Miles said, while plopping down next to you.
• "Otherwise she'd be the first one to know Spiderman's identity."
• You nodded. "That would be a problem. Old ladies are way better at technology than they used to be."
• ...
• As usual, nerve racking silence settled in. This was probably the only thing you hated about hanging out with him.
• Those awkward silences when you didn't know what to say and you'd start OPENLY checking him out. You had to hurry and pick a subject quickly!
• "So, um,"
• You said, a bit too loud.
• "Was it nice to swing with a passenger?"
• A bright smile spread across his face.
• "Well duh, I was laughing the entire time."
• Yes. The world's cutest laughs.
• "Even if you were shouting in my ear the entire time."
• "Hey!"
• You said, pushing his arm. What were you supposed to do? He didn't slow down for you at all. And this was your first time.
• "I haven't had this much fun since..."
• "The collider thing?"
• You finished. He gave a awkward chuckle and fumbled with his hands.
• "Yeah, I guess so."
• "Just been feeling a little friend sick"
• "Friend sick", he says. At FIRST it was. When you first discovered his secret, he UNLOADED his adventures onto you. And it was fun. Made you wanna meet 'em. But nowadays, all your crush does is reminisce about Gwen. Like, his NEWER relationships hold no meaning!
• "Ain't you always?" You said, imitating a cowgirl. Miles snickered. (The western accent always gets him)
• "Aren't you always."
• You repeated quietly. A familiar dark feeling coated your heart and you began to ask yourself questions. Why do you always do this to yourself? Why do you always make jokes when you feel like crap? Why do always ignore what's in your face? And WHY are you still being Gwen's replacement!?
• Feeling the truth starting to stab, you decided it's time to go.
• "Well, I gotta jet."
• You said, standing up quickly.
• "The 'rents want me over, again."
• Miles looked up at you. Disbelief was written all over his face.
• "Again?"
• "Again, dude."
• You whipped out your phone and nervously checked for a bus. Your hero, on the other hand, stared back at the view. A familiar dull frown was on his face. After totally NOT finding one, you shoved your hands in your pockets and cleared your throat.
• "Welp, see you at visions."
• "...See you at visions, Y/N."
• You faked a smile and headed for the stairs. Once again, despair spread through your body. Why couldn't you fallen for some other guy? Some guy that wasn't insanely cool and super sweet. And handsome and liked to draw. And FRICKIN wasn't in love with some other girl! Tears began to form at the corners of your eyes, but you wiped them away.
• Crying wasn't gonna change anything. Wasn't gonna change a damn thing.
• The present~
• Good news, you stopped losing sleep over him. Bad news...you're kinda ghosting him now. But you have a good reason. Finals! Finals were coming up. So, you chose now to get studying. Even if it was super boring and kinda lonely.
• Unfortunately though...Miles didn't seem too hunky-dory about your scarceness. (You understand, of course. You are a amazing friend.) He would try to grab your hands at the end of classes before you could run off.
• Or tap his foot against yours when you PURPOSELY sat diagonally from him at lunch, just to get your attention. And just texts pretty much every day. This drives you insane with guilt and butterflies. You didn't enjoy avoiding that handsome chocolate bar, but you also weren't jazzed about hearing about another girl all the time. (Or seeing her in his sketchbook, darn it.)
• So in a way...you were moving on. In a harsh 'let's forget we ever knew each other' way. It's sucks, but... at the end of the day, you weren't sent to this school to fall in love. You came to learn computer animation. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity. And darn it, you weren't gonna waste it! On god!
• (Darn Miles and the footsies! Sent electricity through you every time)
• "See you, Y/N."
• "Bye, you guys!"
• You said, as got out of a pink van. The passengers were your older sisters. One of 'em got you to spill about your recent predicament, and ended up taking you on a joyride. Y'know, to de-stress. It was fun to ride with all of them again. Heck, they even FED you!
• So now, sleepy and very full, you made your way to your room. Hopefully, your roommate was already asleep, you had webtoon to read. And you don't read it quietly!
• "Alright!"
• You whispered/shouted as you saw the sleeping figure on the top bunk. Out like a light! Thank goodness too. She would've lectured you for sneaking out again. You yawned and scanned your room for your pajamas.
• "Ahem."
• You froze. The "ahem" was pretty masculine. Who was in your room!? You swallowed and turned around slowly. It wasn't a murder, but it was worse. Right behind you was Miles, GLOWING in the dark. (His suit was) He looked pretty ticked. Hopefully...the bad mood was from a villain or something.
• "So, where have you been recently?"
• The sentence felt SUPER heavy. Like you were getting questioned by your parents. But, you didn't panic! There's a excuse reason for everything! You forced a laugh, hoping to give the illusion of chillness.
• "Me? I've been-"
• "Busy? Oh, I know."
• Sweet Jeremy, this was already going south. (How many times did you use that?) Your lungs worked double time, as you waited for him to say something else.
• "Wanna tell me the real reason why you've been dodging me?"
• No way. It'd be a blizzard in hell when you told him the truth.
• "Not today, partner." You said, in a surprisingly calm manner. "Probably not ever..."
• A heavy silence laid in the small room. Why did you say that!? Now was not the time to be funny. Reluctantly, you finally looked Miles in the eyes. Man's looked hurt and confused. God, you wish it didn't have to be this way. But at the end of the day-
• Thwip!
• ...A web was attached to your shirt? You were yanked forward and crashed into his chest.
• "Mile-?" You were cut off by finger on lips. He lifted you up and quietly wrapped your legs around his waist. And made his way to the window. Wait!? He wasn't gonna KILL you over this, right? Right!?
• (News flash, you lived.)
• On the roof of visions~
• The way up was nerve racking. Not only were you being carried up SIDEWAYS, but Miles was stone faced the whole time. In no time, you guys got up to the top. He set you down, but immediately gripped shoulders.
• "What the hell, Y/N."
• Oh boy, he's cussing now.
• "Like, seriously. What the hell." He repeated with more anger this time. You wanted to explain...but didn't. He groaned, sliding his hands down his face.
• "Oh my gosh!"
• "Is it the Spiderman thing!?"
• Wait, what?
• "The Spiderman thing?" You repeated. Where...was this conversation going?
• "Yeah,"
• He replied, in a somewhat calmer tone.
• "Does...me being Spiderman bother you now?"
• "Of course not." You loved that he was Brooklyn's hero. It was one of his many perks.
• "Then, what is it!?"
• Miles grabbed your shoulders once again.
• "Y/N...I think I'm gonna go insane if you keep avoiding me."
• Your heart nearly stopped beating. In fact it sped up. What the-?
• "What about Gwen!?"
• Miles's face changed. You clamped your hand over your mouth. Crap, you said that outloud!
• "What?"
• Welp, the cat's already out of the brown paper bag. "Yeah,"
• "What about Gwen?" You retorted. Slowly, the fear from earlier was melting into bitterness.
• "Gwen? Y/N, what does she even have to do with this?"
• You scoffed. "She has EVERYTHING to do with this!"
• You shoved your polished nail in front of his face.
• "I know YOU like her Miles!"
• This felt insane. You're actually saying these words outloud.
• "So what's the problem with me being gone, huh!?"
• "What do you!?"
• Don't say it, Y/N...
• "What do you..."
• Don't say it!
• "What do you still need me around for?"
• ...Another cat, free from the bag. Slowly, your nose began to burn and your vision blurred. Darn it. You really didn't wanna cry. But saying it outloud, opened your floodgates. This situation really blows.
• Your crush, on the other hand ,was silent. He was probably wasn't frowning anymore, but you didn't check. Seeing his handsome face would just make you feel even more embarrassed.
• "Y/N."
• Miles started. You sniffled loudly, but didn't look up. He fumbled with his hands, thinking of his next sentence carefully. He took a deep breath and grabbed your hands. Despite this, you still let your head hang down.
• "Guess I talked about Gwen a little too much, huh?"
• You grumbled which made him snicker. Darn his stupid cute laughs. He tilted his head.
• "Can I wipe your face now?"
• You shook your head. Being cute wasn't gonna work now. You wanted to be left alone. You heard a 'here we go' and grip on your hands lowered.
• (Miles squatted down. He was gonna see your pretty face.)
• "Y/N."
• "I'm sorry."
• You twitched but said nothing.
• "I didn't mean to act like our friendship didn't matter."
• "I just..."
• Can't stop thinking about her. Miss her so much. Regret not kissing her. What, Miles!? WHAT!?
• "Get the feeling I'll never her again."
• ...What?
• "Or...any of the friends I made."
• "I just...wanna keep the memories alive, I guess."
• You sniffed and looked down at him.
• "So...you were actually friend sick?"
• Your eyes were met his hazel ones. (Which were kinda sparkling because you're talking.) He nodded. You heaved a tired sigh. This cleared up a ton, but you had another question.
• "Miles."
• This was it. The moment of truth.
• "How do you feel about me then?"
• Why would you go insane? Was your real question.
• His eyes widened and looked down. What does that mean? He gripped your hands and you helped pull him up. Guy was beaming.
• "Okay, let's do this!"
• Let's do this-?
• !!!
• You were kissed. Still being kissed, actually! This...you can't describe it. Did you go to space? Is this a dream? Are you dead!? Your brain immediately switched back on when he pulled away.
• "Y/N,"
• Your nails dug into his hands.
• "I really like you."
• And just like that, you were back in space! You looked around quickly and spotted Miles's jacket. Swiftly, you grabbed it and screamed. Your face was smushed into it, but the scream was still pretty loud. After a few seconds, you raised your back up.
• "Sorry."
• You muttered, awkwardly returning his jacket. You fixed up your hair and tried to act chill.
• "So, um,"
• "For...how long?"
• He looked down. Now he's getting shy!? "Around when we first met."
• Butterflies burst into your chest. That long!? And to think you fell for him in last Christmas. He met you in March! Were they're signs or...?
• "I'm such an idiot."
• You muttered. No more confusion, no more misunderstandings.
• You yanked him forward.
• "Miles...let's date!"
• Alright! You said it. Unfortunately, your party (sorta) shut down when you were met with a confused look.
• "Wait?"
• "You like me too?"
• You really contemplated on saying "duh", but you didn't wanna spoil the sweet moment. So you took the cute route.
• "Well, I wouldn't of thrown a hissy fit, if I wasn't jealous."
• Miles's eyes gleamed. But in a mischievous way. ?...
• Holy-!
• You just revealed yourself!
• "So, that's why you bugged out."
• Nooo, you didn't wanna talk about this! It's embarrassing now! You grabbed his hand and tugged him towards the edge.
• "Can we go now? It's cold up here."
• He bent down for you, but did NOT drop the subject.
• "That's like... almost adorable. And mean."
• You groaned into his shoulder. Can he please drop it!? You'll apologize properly later. Really!
• "Y'know, I think jealousy is a cute look for you."
• The embarrassment levels are getting high...!
• "You get all quiet and grumpy-"
• "Miles!"
• "So, are you ready?"
• He whispered in your ear. You swatted him away. Geez...
• "I'm ready, I'm ready."
• "Okay,"
• He said. Slowly, he slid his hand down your arm and...
• Shot your web shooter.
• (It's Miles hand-me-down)
• That's right. You let this caramel macchiato convince you to swing with him again. But you weren't a passenger this time. No, you were actually DOING the swinging.
• "Remember, if you miss, you're still connected to me, Okay?"
• "You won't fall on my watch."
• (Your guy's waist are tied together with webs. Better safe than sorry, am I right?)
• You smiled and took a deep breath.
• Leap of faith, leap of faith, leap of faith...!
• Let's do this!
• "Wait, wait!"
• Miles randomly cut in, nearly making you fall. You looked back at him.
• "What, Miles?"
• He turned you around.
• "Your mask is still up."
• (Another thing of Miles that shrank)
• He placed a quick kiss on your lips and pulled it down.
• "Ready?"
• You nodded.
• "Ready, ready."
• You intertwined your fingers with his and you two jumped off. This might traumatize you or give you a even WORSE fear of heights but...you were with Miles. He'd find a way to make sure you'd feel a-okay.
°○°•●•°○°•●•°○°•●•°○°•●•°○°•●•°○°
This was created way back in summer! Late summer. Either I forgot to post it or I started working on something else😅 Hope you enjoyed this gem and I'll see you later. Stay cool😎
°○°•●•°○°•●•°○°•●•°○°•●•°○°•●°○°
#spiderman across the spiderverse#atsv#miles x female reader#miles morales#miles 1610#jealousy#envious#oneshot#fluff?#old but gold#falling off the spiderverse a little#happy february#stay cool
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hands to yourself | dilf bradley bradshaw x nanny!reader (18+)
surprised with an afternoon to himself, bradley takes advantage of the alone-time, thinking about the woman he can’t have.
warnings: shameless pwp, bradley is down bad for his nanny and hasn’t touched himself — or anyone — in a long ass time. masturbation, pining, swearing, fantasising about oral and such. voyeurism, kinda, he gets walked in on. I may write a part two for this but idk yet. I just needed to write a lil smth about him touching himself. Wc: 3k
this is the lingerie set I was thinking of but imagine whatever ya like x
…
Bradley drops his keys into the bowl by the door, they land with a stark rattle. The faint tan-line between his brows disappears into the crease that caused it as he frowns. He looks towards the stairs, and then wanders in the living room. His boots tap softly against the floor.
“Kids?” He calls out into the unfamiliar quiet.
Nothing. His eyes widen in slight panic, pushing his sunglasses up into his hair as he looks around him. The floor is spotless — their toys are stored neatly in their bins, there aren’t any new stains on his rug, and there aren’t any cartoons on his television.
The sound of his boots on the ground are unnerving; he can’t bring himself to admit that he misses the sounds of chaos he usually returns to. He wanders through the house, making a beeline for the backyard. Sunny day like this, he figures that’s where he’ll find them.
Nothing. The yard is completely empty beside the laundry hanging out to dry. His mouth feels dry.
Once the mid-day mind fog dissipates, Bradley’s panic starts to, too. That birthday party. You’d mentioned it twice this week already, and once this morning. He’s just forgetful at the minute — — you know how crazy work has been for him.
He pauses, standing in his unusually clean living room, and purses his lips. His hands come to rest on his hips while he looks around him. He isn’t used to this.
Usually, within seconds of him walking through the door, he’s got a kid attached to his leg or a fight to break up or a permission slip to sign.
There’s nothing that he needs to do.
Nothing urgent.
Nobody else home.
Lifting his wrist, he takes a quick glance down at his watch and considers what to do with his sudden freedom. Birthday parties take a couple of hours, right?
He takes one final look around him, his eyes catching on the laundry drying outside. Clipped to the line is a power-blue balconette bra. He’s seen it before. The day he accidentally walked in on you.
Since you moved in four months ago, Bradley has been especially careful about knocking first. He wishes he could say it’s because he’s a gentleman. Really, it’s just because it made it hard enough for him to keep his hands to himself the first time.
There had been a heatwave that week. You had the afternoon off but Bradley hadn’t been able to find the sunscreen, and his kids are damn near impossible to keep out of the sunlight. With them arguing downstairs and trying to figure out the lock to let themselves out, he just wasn’t thinking and he hadn’t knocked.
“Hey, do you know where you put the—“ He’d stopped, frozen, taking in the sight of you sprawled across your bed. His bed. The bed he gave to you when you got the job of living here. A red popsicle between your lips and a book propped open in front of you, wearing nothing but a powder-blue set.
“Oh—“ Your eyes had gone all wide and surprised, too shocked to move, just like him.
The only thing that reminded him that he even had the option to move was the sound of his son running up the stairs to hurry this process along. He had slammed the door shut, blushing furiously, and turned to face his eldest.
“Found it, dad! It was in my backpack.” Grinning, he had held up the bottle of sunscreen and Bradley had just been forced to continue with his afternoon like he hadn’t seen anything at all.
When he finally peels his eyes away from the line of drying clothes outside, his gaze lands on the basket of dried and folded laundry sitting on his kitchen counter ready to be put away. Sitting right on top, is a glossy looking pair of blue panties that match the bra on the line.
Bradley’s already been kicking himself for his behavior since you got here. It’s downright shameful, the things he lets himself think about you. You’re half his age, first off. Second -- he’s your boss. You live in his house. His kids think you’re their best friend.
They think you’re just here because you love hanging out with them so much, not because their mommy and daddy couldn’t get along for the life of them and daddy works too much.
His mouth waters. Staring at some blue lace in a laundry hamper and his mouth’s practically watering. He’s pathetic. His guy friends keep telling him he needs to get back in the game, start moving on — he hadn’t been so sure. But then, he’s never almost popped a hard-on over a thong in a pile before.
He can picture you so perfectly in them. Your round ass barely covered by the material, legs kicked up behind you and your ankles crossed. When he closes his eyes, he can picture you facing the other way. Your face toward the headboard, your ass right in front of him.
His slacks grow tighter as his neglected cock stirs to life. It occurs to him that he can’t remember the last time he jerked off. Maybe sometime before his middle kid got the flu? — Around a month ago, maybe. His nights since then had been primarily spent clearing up puke.
The sad part is, the thought only tends to occur to him when he’s at work. Home is always far too hectic. For a while now, he’s been stuck working late into the night with a boner while he’s flicking through candidate paperwork and flight logs.
Well, he’s thinking about it now, and he’s got the place all to himself. No locking himself in the bathroom and letting the shower run, trying to think of anything but the growing list of chores he has to do to keep this house functioning.
He swallows thickly.
He’ll tell the guys that they’re right. He needs to get back into the game; get his head on right, stop pining over his nanny. Tomorrow. For now, he lifts his hand and takes the underwear, smoothing the sheer mesh between his index and thumb. Closing his eyes, he hopes that you won’t notice they’re gone before he can return them.
He twists the cap off of an ice cold beer, leaves his boots neatly by the door and walks calmly upstairs. From there, he clicks his bedroom door shut and steadily takes himself out of his uniform, dropping it into his laundry hamper.
Finally, he settles down against his headboard with his phone in his hand and your panties in his lap.
Porn will make this better. It’s less weird if he’s not necessarily picturing your face. It’s not — but he might have a better chance at looking you in the eye later if he tells himself that.
Not that any of this feels exactly regular.
He inhales and shifts, and scrolls. Birds are still tweeting outside, singing early afternoon songs. His teeth nip at the inside of his cheek as he scrolls aimlessly until he finds a thumbnail that looks halfway doable.
All alone, the house feels especially quiet when the first moan spills from the speakers. He flinches at the sound and scrambles for the volume button, then hesitates. He doesn’t have to be quiet. He doesn’t even have to be ashamed. Shit, it’s a little late for that.
His brows knit together a bit, cocking his head as he examines the babbling girl on the phone screen. His hand stirs to life from where it had gone limp on his thigh, finding his cock through the grey fabric of his boxers. With one last cautious glance to his closed bedroom door, the silence beyond it confirms to him that he’s okay.
Wetting his lips with his tongue, he strokes himself over the material. The video isn’t particularly interesting, not when Bradley’s head can fill itself with far more interesting material at whim. His mind starts to wander back to that dream he’d had of you in the nurses outfit— that one had hit him hard, literally. He could barely look in your direction without getting hard for two days.
Soon enough, he’s hard and straining against the briefs. But that’s thinking about you, and that’s not allowed. He shifts restlessly and goes back to scrolling, palming himself absently. Finally, he comes across a video that sparks something. The thumbnail is of a girl with swollen lips and a cock in her mouth. It’ll do.
There we go. He huffs, that red-hot desperate feeling spreading down his neck and covering his shoulders. Making like it’s going to swallow him whole. Bradley lifts his hips to shuck down his boxers, tucking the waistband under his balls, still prepared for a hasty recovery at the sound of the garage door opening or something. He glances down at himself, remembering the days his thighs were narrower and more taut and he wasn’t noticing grey in his pubes.
If he wanted this done quick and fast, he’d spit hard into the centre of his palm and get to work. It’s been a long time since it hasn’t had to be quick. He thinks he has— he turns a bit and pulls open the drawer of his bedside table, rummaging blindly at the back until he comes up with what he’s looking for — lube. It’s practically full, not like he has been using it much.
A drop in the middle of his hand is enough, he figures. Turning his attention back to this new video, he settles, cupping the weight of his shaft in the palm of his hand. He gives it one slow pump, following the length, coating himself a bit. Real slow, his eyes study the screen, working the lubricant against his skin.
The actress bobs her mouth around the on-screen cock enthusiastically, moaning around him, raking her fingertips along his thighs. He locks his fist around himself, warm and tight, wet. It’s not a mouth but it’s the closest he has felt in a long time. If he closes his eyes, it could be your mouth.
You’d take him slowly, at first, ease him into it with that taunting nature you’ve let him glimpse at. He wouldn’t close his eyes; wouldn’t take ‘em off you. His hand steadies into a lazy rhythm, picturing the way you’d look up at him through your lashes.
The way you’d suck, and flick your tongue across his swollen tip. He shivers as he swipes his thumb through the precum beading there, stroking it all the way back down, stuck on imagining what it would feel like with your saliva joining the mix.
A pleased, feminine hum of approval comes from his phone and Bradley’s body responds just as eagerly, his hips twitching into the thrust of his palm. Sweat beads at his forehead as he slows to the point of almost stopping, dragging this out — making a point of exploiting his time alone.
He blinks hazily and finds a glimpse of blue, remembering suddenly the souvenir he had taken. The pitiful scrap of fabric he’s so wound up over sits against his thigh, looking suddenly small in comparison to his cock. He lets himself go and grabs hold of the fabric firmly, balling it tightly in his fist.
The soft lace bristles at his palm. Freshly laundered, they don’t smell of anything but detergent. It plays to the weaker side of him, gnawing at him, leaving him desperate to have something beyond what’s in his head. To know your smell, your tastes, your sounds. He shudders as he wraps a hand snugly around himself once more, this time, with an added layer of lace and soft mesh.
His head falls backwards, mouth hanging. Like this, it’s even easier to pretend. The image of you straddling his thighs, rocking your pussy against him while wearing nothing but these has him finally relaxed. Zen, even. A groan dies in his through, coming out more as a deep and baited sigh. He lift his hips, fucking into his fabric tangled fist.
Sometime between picking up your panties and now, the video has moved on without him, the blowjob forgotten. If he was to open his eyes, he would find that she’s on her back, being fucked into a mattress. He doesn’t need to. Stars burst behind his eyelids as he steadies up to the rhythm of her moans, skin hitting skin.
You’ve been living here four months now and you haven’t stayed out once. He wonders if you’re as wound up as he is. If you’ve thought about him the way he thinks of you. How downright desperate you’d sound moaning against his pillows while he finally gets to feel you. His left hand jumps, grabbing a firm fistful of the sheets beside him.
The shame he feels has been checked at the door, he lets himself think that you might have looked at him, that you might want him. He chases the feeling, his chest heaving with heavy breaths. Pumping the blue mesh around his cock, imagining you rocking yourself on him. Something gentler, more spry. It feels good. You’d feel good.
His imagination is better than he gave himself credit for.
His wrist twitches and he slows, feeling his thighs tighten as his heels press into his mattress for leverage. He chokes out a sound that he won’t admit is closer to a whimper than anything else, panting hard as he lets the rush ebb a bit. Pursing his lips, he draws out a slow exhale.
His mouth hangs open, eyes dipping to watch himself loosen up with the material, finding himself with just his bare palm once again. He takes the blue fabric in his left, opening it up and examining the dampened marks of his precum and the lube.
Just like that, he’s back in the guest room — your room — and you’re wearing that blue set. It’s dampened like this, but not because he has made a mess of it, not yet. Because you have. You’re soaking through it, looking up at him with that awe-struck look on your face. Your mouth open wide but this time there’s no red popsicle.
“Fuck.”
“Shit.” You whisper, catching the diaper bag that had almost fallen from your shoulder as you cradle the sleeping infant against your chest. Quiet as a mouse, you click open the front door and toe off your shoes.
She’s dead-weight in your arms, probably drooling on your shoulder. Her two older siblings will be causing all kinds of mischief and consuming sugar in all of its forms at their cousin’s birthday party for the next three hours. Given that the party lines up almost exactly with the fifteen-month-old’s nap routine, you figured you would take her home to rest so that you could get around to putting away that laundry you had started.
You’ve got a thousand things on your mind. A million things to do before Bradley gets home that evening. Truthfully, you’re a thousand miles away as you stroll upstairs and walk to the far end of the hall to the nursery. You lay her down and adjust the baby monitor, setting up her white noise machine routinely.
Her bedroom door clicks shut behind you and you take a moment to consider your priorities. Laundry takes precedence, even though you want so desperately to crawl into bed and sleep for an hour. You huff, groaning to yourself as you walk back downstairs to find the basket you had abandoned.
As you round the stairs and walk through the hallway, a choked sound spills from under the wood of Bradley’s door, something deep and breathless. Already halfway to the kitchen, you don’t hear a thing.
The video stopped a while ago but Bradley had stopped watching it even earlier. His head is thrown back and his lips are parted, his features creased in concentration as he chases his high. He thrusts into his fist, white-knuckling your panties with his free hand, his heart thundering in his chest. “God, fuck.”
He doesn’t have a clue that he isn’t alone anymore. He didn’t hear the minivan, he didn’t hear the front door. He doesn’t hear you rush back up the stairs with the hamper hiked against your hip.
He walked in on you. He stopped, and he stared. You were interrupted, so you can’t blame him for slamming the door shut. He’d missed, or ignored the signals since. The looks, the touches, staying up with him until your eyelids are so heavy that they’re barely open because he’s kind of an insomniac. Nothing. You’ve been beyond curious, desperate to know if he has been blowing you off on purpose or if he’s just clueless.
Clueless yourself, armed to put away freshly folded t-shirts, you grab the door handle and push it open. He works late, always. He’s rarely home before bedtime on work days. He told you this morning that he’d try not to wake you when he came in. And yet — there he is.
You get a glimpse of him before he registers the click of the door, before he spots you. Brows furrowed, eyes screwed shut, his curls dampened and hugging his forehead. Sunlight catches on the beads of sweat as they trail his glistening middle, spilling across his strong, softened middle. Broad shoulders flexed, the veins in his right arm straining through the skin, fucking his palm.
He reacts quickly, but there’s little that can be done. His eyes spring open and his hand releases himself, his body flushing a deeper shade of red at once. Thighs spread, he doesn’t have much time to cover himself before the door whips shut again.
You press your back to the door, staring at the ceiling. On either sides of it, you each have a moment of silent consideration.
“… are you okay?” He asks weakly.
He gets a soft squeak of acknowledgement as an answer and starts to wonder how you’ll ever be able to talk to him again. God, he hopes you don’t quit. The kids love you, and you’re incredible, you make his life liveable. His mind races, trying to come up with some kind of way to fix what you just saw. Everyone masturbates, it’s normal, it’s healthy—
“Was— Was that my underwear?”
Shit, Bradley thinks, he’s done for. There’s no coming back from this. You’re going to tell every nanny in the state that he’s a creep and work is going to eat him alive while he tries to juggle three kids alone. He curses breathlessly, fixing his underwear to cover himself and pushing himself out of bed.
He’s stuck for a second, considering if it would be better to give you time or to go after you. His eyes widen as the door clicks again, and pushes slowly open.
Your eyes rake over him, standing tall at the foot of his bed in nothing but his boxer-briefs. Still, regrettably, balled into his left hand, is your underwear. Powder-blue. He follows your gaze and looks down at the fabric, cursing his own stupidity, wondering if it’s too late to drop them.
You wet your lips with your tongue as your gaze flickers across. He closes his eyes and wills it to go away — he had just been so close, so caught up in it. It’s still rock hard, straining against the grey fabric, dampened at the tip with a spot of precum.
All of those signals and efforts come to a head. After four months of pining, you can’t just wander downstairs like this never happened. Laundry can wait. “You want a hand?”
…
tags: @royal-sunflower @redbarn1995 @atarmychick007 @jessicab1991 @seitmai @bellaireland1981 @roosterbruiser @tenderly-hopeful-collection @bradshawsbaddie @tgmavericklover @cevansbaby-dove @lyn-js @mynameismckenziemae @perpetuelledaydreaming @diorrfairy @sparklehippie17 @heatherbabees @prettiewittie @forgiveliv @oleksiak-pettersson @illegalxhood @fantasticpeacestarfish @rockstxr-x @d0main-expansion @diorsmores @mydarlingrose @sticksticklettuxe @alrightyyaphrodite @bowchickawowowww @aquafairy777 @eternallyvenus @maxwell-era @devil-angel-winchester @roosterishot @rosiahills22 @literally-iconic @brinaaa10 @foggyturtleknightangel @a-serene-place-to-be @aragorn-02 @sunflowercharlie13
If your name is here but isn’t tagged, it may be your settings that won’t allow me to tag you fully!
#bradley bradshaw#bradley rooster bradshaw#miles teller#bradley bradshaw smut#rooster bradshaw imagine#rooster x you#dilf Bradley#bradley x the nanny#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw x you#bradley bradshaw x female reader#bradley rooster Bradshaw smut#bradley rooster bradshaw fic#top gun: maverick smut
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Request for Rooster please :) basically fluff, not sure if you have something like this already but something along the line of y/n being a pilot as well, Rooster falling for them and trying to potentially impress them? Trying to confess before his chance is loss because he sees hangman around y/n time to time but Rooster doesn’t find out (immediately) that hangman and y/n are siblings so Rooster is torn between confessing or not (he does end up confessing)
Ahh thank you for the super cute request! I have a thing for writing sisters, you know ;)
Worst Day Ever
Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Seresin Sister!Reader
CW: Just a lil drabble, nothing fancy. A little cheesy. A bit fluffy. A lot goofy. The star of this show is Nat XD
WC: ~1100
“This is the worst day ever.”
Natasha looks over at Bradley as he moodily packs up his things at the end of the briefing. She grins in amusement. “You sound like a toddler.”
Bradley exhales gloomily and directs his gaze toward the front of the room where you stand, chatting with Bagman. “What does she see in that dirtbag?” he makes a face of disgust.
“I guess she sees his abs.” Natasha shrugs.
Bradley gives her a flat look. “Not you too.”
“What?” she exclaims with a laugh. “I’m not denying that he’s got a shit personality.” She glances over at you and Jake. “But he’s easy on the eyes, what can I say?”
“Maybe I should challenge him to a push up contest,” Bradley muses.
“Dude, we’re in the military.” Natasha shakes her head. “Push ups are not going to impress her.”
“But his abs did the trick?”
Natasha purses her lips. “Have you seen him flex?”
“Maybe you should bag him,” Bradley proposes sourly. Then, he adds, “Actually, that’s not a half bad idea!”
“No,” Natasha responds curtly and starts for the door.
“C’mon, Trace. I will owe you.” Bradley trails after her. “I will pay you.”
Natasha stops just short of the door. “To do what?”
“We’ll invite them to the Hard Deck. You distract Bagman –”
“No,” Natasha repeats, exiting the room.
“I thought you had my back!” Bradley calls after her as the rest of the aviators assigned to the mission start filing out into the hallway.
“Someone leave you hangin’, Rooster?” Jake asks playfully as he walks by.
Bradley flashes an annoyed look in his direction and sees that you’re walking alongside him. He locks eyes with you briefly – for the first time ever – and then glances back at Jake irritably. “Don’t worry, Bagman. That’s still your undisputed domain.”
Jake scoffs while you drop your head to hide a smile.
“Hey Bagman!” Natasha calls from down the hall.
Bradley looks up to see her doubling back.
“You guys want to join us at the Hard Deck tonight?” she asks casually.
Jake raises his eyebrows in surprise, so shocked at the invitation that he doesn’t respond right away.
That’s when you say, “Sure! We’ll be there!”
…
“Drink as much as you want, Phoenix,” Bradley says giddily. “It’s on me.”
“You bet your ass it is,” Natasha says, taking a swig of beer. “I’m going to need it.”
Bradley doesn’t have a chance to laugh because that’s when you and Jake enter the bar.
The two of you make your way over to Bradley and Natasha’s table. Jake is scowling but your smile is bright enough for the both of you.
“Hey!” Bradley says, rising from his seat to greet you.
Jake gives him a dirty look and Bradley squares his shoulders to appear a little taller. Jake might have gotten to you first but that doesn't mean that Bradley can't, at least, try.
“How’s it going?” you say as you take a seat and Bradley could swear they’re the three sweetest words he’s ever heard in his life.
“Great,” he responds, beaming at you like an idiot.
“So good,” Natasha responds absently, downing the remainder of her beer. “I need a refill.”
Jake, who is just about to sit down, rises again with an irritable sigh. “What’re you drinking?” he asks.
Natasha grimaces at him. “I can get my own beer,” she responds, also getting up.
Jake gives her a phony grin. “I guess you’re used to it,” he bites back.
You elbow Jake aggressively in his leg and he nearly loses his balance. “Be nice,” you warn him.
Bradley watches Natasha and Jake head to the bar together, surprised that you’re familiar enough with Jake to physically assault him considering the briefing this morning was only the third time you’ve met. Bradley wonders if maybe you know Jake from before; that would explain your allegiance.
“I’m glad you guys came,” Bradley says to you, not really sure how else to start a conversation with a girl who’s more or less spoken for.
You smile at him. “Yeah, thanks for the invite!”
“Of course,” Bradley responds. He decides not to mention that the entire night was orchestrated just so he could spend time with you.
“Jake’s pretty excited.”
Bradley lifts his eyebrows dubiously and looks over at Jake who’s at the bar with Natasha. “He’s got a weird way of showing it.”
You laugh. “Oh, he’s far too ‘badass’ to show it.”
Bradley snorts and looks back at you with a grin. “I like you,” he says before he can stop himself.
You chuckle slightly and lower you gaze without responding.
“I mean it,” he says.
You shift slightly in your seat and change the subject. “Your low altitude pass yesterday was pretty awesome,” you say.
Bradley grins and straightens his posture proudly. “You saw that?”
“It was hard to miss.” You cringe slightly. “Cyclone was so mad, I'm surprised you didn't hear him yelling from the cockpit.”
Bradley winces. “Yeah, I may have gotten into some trouble. But hey, if it means you noticed me, it was worth it.” He lets out a chuckle.
You smile, your eyes resting on his. "I noticed you," you admit.
Bradley keeps his gaze on you, releasing a guilty sigh. What's he doing flirting with you when Jake has clearly already shown interest? He hangs his head sullenly and says, "Look, I don’t know what you and Bagman have going on –”
“Umm,” you interject, holding up a hand. Bradley looks up at you, already nauseated because he’s fairly certain you’re about to tell him off. Instead, you proceed to say, “You know he’s my brother, right?”
Bradley blinks at you in awe. After several lengthy seconds, he says, “Shut the fuck up.”
You start laughing. “What did you think?”
Bradley drops his face in his hands, embarrassed and relieved in equal measure. “That’s why you like him.”
“Well, I wouldn’t go that far,” you mutter sarcastically.
Bradley nearly chokes. “You’re hilarious,” he says.
You lean into the table toward him. “And you’re cute.”
Bradley stares at you in amazement and then grins sheepishly. “I’m so glad you think so.”
“Alright kids,” Bradley hears Jake’s voice and realizes that he and Natasha have approached the table. “We’re gonna call it a night.”
“What? Already?” Bradley exclaims, looking up at them. He instantly observes that Jake is holding Natasha’s hand. “Oh,” Bradley adds, meeting Natasha’s gaze with an amused grin. “Well, this is turning out to be an alright day.”
Natasha shoots him a threatening look but says not a word.
“Bradshaw,” Jake says, narrowing his eyes as he glances between you and Bradley pointedly. “Keep your hands to yourself.”
Bradley solutes him with a nod and a smirk and then says, “You have yourself a good night, Seresin.”
Rooster Tag List:
The rest of the list will be in the comments.
@rosiahills22
@olliepig
@xoxabs88xox
@callsignvenus
@atarmychick007
@shanimallina87
@wkndwlff
@ijustwantedplums
@Elenavampire21
@SometimesAnAlice
@risingtripletaurus
@desert-fern
@sarcasm-n-insomnia
@graciereads
@pono-pura-vida
@ltfirecracker
@rascallyrascals
@kitty-moonflower-blog
@Melody-death
@bellaireland1981
@justlurkingplsignore
@rhettsluvr
@mandyppp
@eloquentdreamer
@topherwrites
@jessicab1991
@seitmai
@novastories
@stoneyggirl2
@roosterandme
@julielightwood
@primroseluna
@diorrfairy
@fandom-princess-forevermore
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#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw#top gun#rooster#miles teller#top gun maverick#tgm#bradley bradshaw x reader#rooster x reader#rooster x you#rooster top gun#top gun x reader#top gun fandom#rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw imagine#bradley bradshaw drabble#rooster drabble#bradley bradshaw x you#bradley bradshaw x female reader#bradley bradshaw fanfiction
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💕 bradley and birdie 💁🏼♀️
I know it said blurb but I can't do that with these they're too cute!
"You're killin' me, Birdie."
You turned around to find your boyfriend once again at the bar, elbows perched on the counter, hands cupping his chin as he shamelessly stared at you.
Warmth coursed through your body, your mouth unable to stop that giggle from escaping, "I'm just pouring beers Bradley."
He sighs, and you might as well be personally stabbing him with how dramatic it is, "Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?"
You placed the empty glasses on the counter, taking in a deep breath. Anything to center yourself on how cute Bradley was in this very moment. When Penny asked if you could pick up a shift at the Hard Deck tonight after a bartender had bailed, you knew damn well that the chances of running into your boyfriend was far from zero.
What you hadn't expected was for Bradley to find reasons upon reasons to situate himself at the bar, no more than four feet away from you.
"Yes, you do. Every day. Multiple times." You reminded him, trying to focus on the new recruits' drink orders than you adorable boyfriend.
"Bradshaw, did you come here to order or just to stare at your girl?" Penny asked. Normally she found you and Bradley cute. But tonight it was slammed and she wasn't in the mood.
"Actually, I do!" Bradley stated, his brown eyes shining, "Bob needs another Diet Coke."
You looked over Bradley's shoulder to find the bespectacled WSO with Jake's partner, Venus, along with another girl. No doubt Venus' latest attempt at setting Bob up with someone.
"Does he want some vodka in it? To help him get through Venus' latest matchmaking attempt?"
Bradley shook his head, "Nah. I already told him that if he needed an out, he could come up to you to help you with something at your house," he paused, "Your house in Stardew Valley. I fix your actual house."
You giggled as you extended your arm out to Bradley, a glass of Diet Coke in your hand, "Yes you do. Now why don't you go play that song that bothers Jake?"
Bradley took the drink from your hand, quickly clasping it with his, allowing him to bring your wrist up to his mouth, placing a long kiss on the sensitive skin. The hairs of his mustache tickle, and you would laugh if it weren't for the downright sensual look in his eyes.
"I'll be back soon with Nat's order," Bradley placed one last kiss to your hand before giving you a wink and leaving you speechless and hot all over.
That man was going to be the death of you.
#my writing#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw#bradley bradsaw x reader#rooster bradshaw#rooster x reader#rooster top gun#rooster x you#bradley bradshaw x you#bradley bradshaw x female reader#bradley bradshaw fluff#bradley bradshaw imagine#bradley bradshaw fic#bradley bradshaw fanfiction#miles teller
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BRADLEY BRADSHAW - i still love you
x MITCHELL!FEM!reader - MASTERLIST
SUMMARY: bradley says you should communicate more with him, you tell him that he should be less protective of you. so your dad steps in helps you solve your problems.
WORD COUNT: 5051
GENRE: angst-ish, fluff at the end <3
CONTENT WARNING: english is NOT my first language
pacing in the small kitchen of your house, your arms were crossed over your chest as your mind was racing. the air was thick with unspoken words, and your heart pounded in your chest. across from you, stood bradley with his jaw clenched, his fists balling at his sides.
“i can’t believe you went behind my back like that, bradley,” you scoff, not holding back the hurt in your voice.
he ran a hand through his short hair, “i didn’t go behind your back. i was trying to help! your dad agreed with me—“
“of course! of course, he agreed with you. like he always does! but that is not the point,” you cut him off. “this isn’t about him, it’s about us. you made a decision to get me off the mission without even talking to me!”
"you've got to be kidding me," bradley's voice was low and angry. "you didn't even tell me you were-
"i didn't need to tell you, bradley. i'm a pilot, just like you, it was classified!" you interrupted, voice rising. “i’ve been around fighter jets my entire life life. i know the risks better than anyone. and it is not your decision to make!”
he scoffed, shaking his head, "classified? you could've said something. a heads-up, at least. i had to hear it from hangman, of all people, God knows how he even got that information. do you know how that feels?"
"i don't owe you a whole play-by-play of every mission i'll be going on. you know that is not how it works!" your voice getting an octave higher as frustration started rising in you. "we're doing the same job, bradley. i'm not going to run to you for permission every time i'm assigned something dangerous."
rooster shook his head, "that is not what this is about, and you know it!" bradley's voice cracked as he pointed his finger at you, accusingly. "you've been reckless, and it's not just this mission. you've been pushing your luck lately, takin' unnecessary risks that-"
"taking risks that what?" you cut him off, taking a step forward. "that you think you wouldn't take when you'll get the opportunity? don't act like you're the only one who's capable of making tough calls up there."
bradley ran a hand through his hair, "it's not the same. you've been flying like you've got something to prove, like you're invincible. i've seen it, multiple times!'
"maybe i do have something to prove!" you shouted. "do you know what it's like being maverick's daughter? everyone assumes i'm only here because of him. that i'm not good enough if he wasn't here!"
"i never said that," bradley yelled back. "i know how good you are, but that doesn't mean you can just ignore the consequences. this ain't a game, y/n! one wrong move and-"
"and what? i could die?" you finished for him, your voice hard. "yeah, bradley, i know."
his eyes hardened for a second. “i am just trying to protect you! you don’t need to be involved in such things, you know how dangerous things are-“
you felt your blood boil, "you do not get to control when and if i fly! i made a call, and it worked. i got them out of a situation that they couldn't get out of alone," you took a breath. "don't act like you're the only one who's scared of the consequences. but i'm not going to let fear control how i fly, or how i choose to live my life."
"yeah, this time," bradley snapped. "but one day it ain't gonna work, and i'm gonna have to watch you get hurt, or worse-" he stopped himself.
his face was twisted with frustration, "this is not just about fear. it's about trust - trusting the people around you." bradley shook his head, “i lost my dad to this job, remember? i can’t lose you too, you’re asking me to sit back and watch while you put yourself in danger.”
you ran a hand through your hair. “i’m not asking you to watch from the sidelines, bradley. i’m asking you to trust me, to treat me like an equal, not someone you have to shield all the time.”
bradley sighed, "i thought we were in this together, but lately, it feels like you're flying solo. you should've told me about the mission, and you should've thought twice before pulling that stunt in the air today."
"you can't protect me from everything, bradley," you said, your voice quieter now. "we are in this together, but that means you have to trust me to do my job. i'm not reckless, i'm doing what i've been trained to do."
bradley let out a frustrated breath, "i do trust you, but you have to meet me halfway. you shook your head, "we are a team, bradley. but you have to stop treating me like i'm going to break every time things get tough."
he looked at you, the only thing between you two was a heavy silence, before you walked outside towards your dads house.
a week had passed since the fight, and you had ignored bradley every single day. you hadn’t spoken to him since that night in your house. every time he tried to approach you, you either turned away or conveniently found yourself busy with something - anything else.
you knew your friends noticed the change, but neither of them said anything. they respected your silence, even if someone gave you the occasional concerned look.
the hangar buzzed with energy as the team prepped for the next mission briefing, but your eyes were completely focused on the clipboard in front of you, pretending to read the details. you could feel bradley’s eyes on you angrily cross the room, but you refused to acknowledge him.
“you okay?” phoenix asked softly, disrupting your train of thought.
you forced a tight smile. “yeah, i’m fine. just.. reading.” phoenix raised an eyebrow but didn’t keep asking questions. she had known you long enough to understand that when you didn’t want to talk, it was best to let you be. nat glanced over at bradley, who was standing near the planes, staring at you like he wanted to say something but wasn’t sure how to approach you.
bob, ever the quiet observer, gave you a look. “if you ever need anything, just let us know.”
you appreciated bob. he had a thing of being there for people without pushing. which made the weight on your shoulders feel a little lighter.
at the mission briefing, you found your spot next to phoenix, grateful for the buffer she provided between you and bradley. you sensed him sitting just a few seats away, and it took every ounce of willpower not to glance in his direction. so, you kept your eyes on your father, who was explaining the mission.
"phoenix, bob, you'll be running a close-formation drill. i want you tight and focused," maverick said, his voice commanding as always.
"y/n, you'll assist in the observation and debrief."
you nodded, keeping your face neutral, it wasn't anything usual you did things alone, usually working with bradley. observation duty meant you didn't get the chance to fly, and it gave you the perfect chance to stay away from bradley. the last thing you wanted was to be stuck in a jet with him.
"bradshaw," maverick called out, pulling your attention (unwillingly) to him, "you're up on solo drills today. i want you working on precision landing. that means, stay sharp."
bradley nodded, though his gaze flickered towards you for the briefest second. you kept your expression to the front, refusing to give him any acknowledgment.
once the briefing wrapped up, everyone began to filter out to the tarmac. you stuck close to your friends, walking with them as they headed to their aircraft. bradley trailed behind, clearly wanting to catch up with you, but hesitated as he watched you being in a conversation with nat about fuel calculations - anything to keep your mind occupied.
"you sure you're good?" phoenix asked you as you reached the jets. "you've been off all day."
you took a breath, "it's just.. bradley. we had a fight, and i don't wanna talk to him yet." phoenix frowned, glancing over her shoulder at where bradley stood a few feet away, looking frustrated and lost. "you can't avoid him forever, you know."
you nodded, and bob gave a sympathetic nod, adjusting his glasses. you appreciated their concern. as phoenix and bob climbed into their F-18, you took a step back to give them room to prep for takeoff. you took your clipboard and started ticking off boxes for the check up.
the sun was starting to set, casting shadows over the hangar. you were leaning against one of the vacant jets, deep in thought as you watched the fading light reflect off the metal wings. it had been a long day - avoiding him.
you sighed and pushed yourself off the F-18, wiping the sweat from your forehead. you needed a break, or at the least a moment to breathe. before you could turn to head inside, footsteps approached from behind, but they weren't the ones you'd been bracing yourself for, for the entire day.
"evening, y/n," the person turned out to be jake. you redirected your vision from the wing to your clipboard. "hangman," you nodded. "what brings you here?"
he strolled up beside you, hands tucked into the pockets of his flight suit, wearing that trademark smirk of his. "saw you out here all alone, figured you could use some company?”
you rolled your eyes, but there was no intent behind it. “i can take care of myself, thanks”
“never said you couldn’t,” jake said with a smirk, leaning against the F-18. his casual stance did little to hide the intensity in his gaze as he looked at you.
"i'm fine, jake," you said, trying to keep the conversation light. "just doing my task."
he cocked his head to the side, clearly not buying it. "uh-uh, sure doesn't look like it. you've been quieter than usual, which, for you, is saying something," jake took a few steps back, blocking the sun off that was lower now. "anything to do with a certain aviator with a mustache, or... am i reading this wrong?"
you shot hangman a look, but he didn't stop smiling. "you know, for someone who's so smart, you're real bad at hiding what's going on in that pretty little head of yours," jake's smirk only widened.
you gave a big sigh, knowing it was pointless to dodge him. he wasn't the type to let things go easily, especially when there was a chance to get on someone's nerves. "what makes you think this has anything to do with bradley?"
hangman gave you a look, "i'm not blind, y/n. everyone's noticed the way you two have been acting lately. hell, even bob asked if something was up, and that guy avoids drama like the plague."
you huffed a laugh at that. bob was definitely not one to get involved in anyone's personal life, which only meant your fight with bradley had become more obvious than you thought.
"it's... complicated," you shrugged. you didn't want to elaborate, you didn't really think you had a good reason to be mad at bradley.
jake just nodded, surprisingly not pushing for more details. "well, complicated's a word i know all too well. but whatever it is, you can't keep ignoring him, ya know."
you rolled your eyes, "you sound exactly like phoenix."
"smart woman, phoenix," jake shot back at you with a grin. "you should listen to her."
you didn't respond immediately, the silence between you settling into something a bit more comfortable. the truth was, you didn't know how to face bradley yet. it was easier to ignore the whole situation - easier to ignore him.
after a few moments, jake glanced at you, his voice a bit more serious. "look, i'm not here to stir the pot - at least, not too much. but if you ever need to talk... i'm around. no judgement."
his offer caught you off guard. jake wasn't exactly known for being the most emotionally available person, but there was something in his tone that told you he meant it. maybe beneath the cocky exterior, there was more to him than he let on.
"thanks," you nodded, offering a small smile. "i'll keep that in mind."
jake gave a nod in return, "anytime, darlin'."
he turned around to leave after giving your shoulder a slight squeeze. you watched him walk towards the tarmac, where his F-18 was.
just as jake waltzed towards his F-18, he spotted bradley making his way across the hangar, bradley's expression was quite unreadable, his eyes locked on the same spot where you and jake had just been talking.
"well, look who it is," jake said, his tone deceptively light. "bradshaw, got a minute?" jake called out, casually strolling over to intercept him.
bradley stopped in his tracks, his brow furrowed slightly, but he nodded. "yeah, what's up, hangman?"
jake's grin widened as he tilted his head toward you. "just thought you might want to know - y/n's been keepin' busy. got a lot on her plate, but she's holdin' her own. probably needs a little more time to figure things out, though," jake winked at bradley and put his hand on his shoulder.
bradley's expression hardened, and slapped jake's hand off his shoulder. "and what the hell's that supposed to mean?"
"relax," jake said, his tone light. "i'm just sayin'. give her some space."
bradley's jaw tightened, "i don't need a lesson on how to handle my own problems, jake."
hangman raised an eyebrow, "didn't mean it like that, man. just offering a little insight from someone who's seen it all before."
bradley shrugged and looked away from jake, "mind your own business, seresin."
you were sat at the kitchen table, a mug of hot chocolate cooling in front of you. It was too late to drink a good mug of coffee. the evening was quiet, your dad was lounging across from you, a plate of leftovers in from of him. he was in one of his storytelling moods, something you'd started appreciated over the years. even if you'd heard some of the stories more times than you could count.
"right? so, there i was," maverick began, his eyes lighting up with a spark, "flying an F-18 during a mission over the persian gulf. everything was going smoothly until we got, like, a distress call about an aircraft in trouble."
you nodded absently, staring into your cocoa, your mind miles away, tangled up in the mess with bradley. you had been staying in mav's spare room for the past two days, needing a break from your own space. your father's voice was a comforting background noise.
"and then, just as we're closing in on the aircraft, we started having issues with our own plane," maverick laughed as his hands animated and described the scene. "the gauges were going haywire, and the engine started sputtering. and, i knew! we had to act fast."
he paused, noticing you weren't engaged in his story as usual. his gaze softened. "y/n? you okay, kiddo? you seem like you're a million miles away."
you blinked, pulling yourself out of your thoughts. "sorry, dad. just... thinking.
your dad's expression grew more concerned. "wanna talk about it? i'm here to listen."
you took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the past week press heavily "it's just... bradley and i had a fight. i've been avoiding him." you shrugged, "he's been trying to reach out, but i'm not sure how to fix this."
your dad's eyes softened, he always was a good listener. "i see, and it that why you've been staying here for the past couple of days?"
you nodded, "yeah, sorry. i just needed some space. i wasn't sure how to handle everything, and it felt easier to just be here."
mav laned back in his chair, his expression thoughtful. "well, you know, i'm glad you're here, even if it's under tough circumstances. sometimes, a change of... scenery can give you some clarity. but avoiding problems doesn't solve them."
you looked at him, "yeah."
mav's gaze was steady, full of the wisdom that only years of experience could bring. "life's a lot like a flying jet. you've got to keep your eyes on the instruments, stay focused on your course. but, also be ready to adjust when things don't go as planned. sometimes you hit turbulence, and somethings you've got to do some emergency maneuvers. but no matter what, you cannot let the storm cloud your vision."
you nodded slowly, feeling a bit of tension in your chest ease. "that.. kinda makes sense? i'm not sure."
"and as for bradley," maverick continued, his voice gentle but firm, "communication is key. if you're struggling with something, talking it out can make a big difference. don't let fear of pride keep you from making things right."
you nodded, letting the advice your dad gave you sink in.
mav's expression softened, "it's natural to need time, and it's okay to take a step back. but running away won't make it disappear. sometimes, you've got to face it."
you nodded, feeling mixture of relief and determination. "thanks, dad."
he gave you a reassuring smile, then reached across the table to give your hand a gentle squeeze. "you're stronger than you know, kid. i'm here for you, no matter what happens. and when you're ready to talk to him, make sure you're doing it for the right reasons."
you managed to give hima smile, feeling like you were 10 years old again and he was giving you advice, "thanks dad.
his eyes twinkled with pride, happy that his rambling made somewhat a bit of sense to you, "anytime, kiddo. now, let me finish that story about the F-14 before you fall asleep on me."
you laughed at your dad's comment, feeling more grounded. as mav resumed his story, you let yourself be carried away by the familiar rhythm of his voice.
rooster walked down the hallway toward the locker room, his shoes echoing against the hard floor. the low hum of the hangar was the only sound he could hear, he was way too early, but he didn't care. he could only focus on the tight knot in his chest. he hadn't spoken to you in days, and the last time he tried, jake had been there, again, standing in the way - both figuratively and literally. that only added hurt and anger to the fire that was burning inside him.
he sighed, and ran a hand through his messy hair. it had been a week since you two fought, and he couldn't shake the guilt or frustration. every attempt to have a talk with you seemingly failed, and now, the distance between you two felt bigger than ever.
as he approached his locker, still deep in thought, a voice called out to him.
"rooster."
he stopped in his tracks to see maverick approaching him, hands in his flight suit pockets, that familiar look of concern in his eyes.
"hey, mav," bradley said, forcing a smile. "what's up?"
mav stepped closer to him, "i've been meaning to catch up with you. figured now was as good a time as any."
rooster nodded slowly, this wasn't casual small talk - bradley figured. he leaned against his locker, crossing his arms as he waited for maverick to continue.
mav studied bradley for a second, his gaze thoughtful, "something's been weighing on you."
bradley sighed, letting out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. "yeah. it's.. y/n," he looked away, almost embarrassed to admit to aloud to her dad. "we had a fight, and things haven't been the same ever since. and, lile, i've been tryin' to fix it, but she's been avoiding me. i don't know what to do."
mav's eyes softened with understanding. he had known brad for years, practically raised him from afar after his father's death. maverick had and will always see bradley as family, and seeing him in this state tugged at his heart.
"yeah, figured as much," maverick replied gently, leaning against the lockers beside him. "she's been staying at my place for the past couple of days. it's clear to say that whatever happened between you two is affecting her just as much."
his face fell, guilt swirling in his chest. "i didn't know she was staying with you." maverick gave him a nod, "she needed some space, to think and stuff. but, trust me, from what i've seen, this isn't just about space. it's about communication."
brad shook his head, frustrated. "i've been trying to talk to her, mav. but, every time i try, she just pushes me away. shuts me out."
"it's not about fixing it right away. you've got to give her and yourself room to feel what you're feeling. but that doesn't mean you should stop trying. she cares about you, like you care about her."
brad looked down at the locker floor, his fists clenching at his sides. "i don't know if she still does. after everything i did - said, maybe she's better off without me."
your dad frowned, shaking his head. "no, don't do that. don't start doubting yourself because of one rough patch. relationships - especially the kind that matter - they're never easy. you're gonna hit turbulence. what really matters is how you handle it."
rooster swallowed hard, the knot in his chest easing slightly. "it feels like no matter what i do, it's never enough. and i know, i messed up, and now i don't know how to make it right."
"look, kid, i know what it's like to carry the weight of your mistakes. god knows i've made my share of them. but the key is learning from them. you and y/n have something real, something worth fighting for. but you cannot expect it to be fixed overnight."
bradley met maverick's eyes. "so what do i do? just wait?"
he shook his head, "no. you don't just wait. you just be patient, but also let her know that you're still there, still fighting for her. she needs to see that you're willing to put in the work."
brad ran a hand over his face, his shoulders sagging with the weight of it all. "i don't know how to get through to her."
"you love her, right?"
bradley didn't hesitate. "yeah. i do."
"then show her that," mav replied simply. "not with words, but with actions. be there for her, even when she's pulling away from you. let her know that you will be her person, even when things are going to be hard."
bradley nodded, his throat feeling pretty tight with emotion. he'd heard maverick's advice before, in different times. but it hit harder than before.
mav put a hand on roster's shoulder, a reassuring gesture. "she's my daughter, bradley, and you're like a son to me. i know both of you well enough to see that this relationship is something worth fighting for. don't give up on her, or yourself."
"thanks, mav," bradley blinked. he gave bradley a small smile in reply.
"anytime, kid. you've got a good heart, don't let the fear of losing her stop you from showing her how much you care."
bradley nodded and watched maverick walk away, the weight on his chest lifting a bit. he turned his head when he heard a locker close.
"wow, i think i just cried," hangman clasped his hands together, as he stepped in bradley's view. "you heard all of that?" bradley's mouth hung open.
"i think you've just ruined a nice moment," another voice cut in. bradley moved towards the sound. "bob? are you kidding me?" rooster scoffed.
"i have an idea, you could show up with flowers," bob suggested. "and her favorite snacks and movies," hangman cut in. bob and bradley gave him a weird look. "what? i have my fair share with the ladies," jake winked.
that afternoon, rooster found himself in a small flower shop, sighing. he didn't know what he was supposed to give her, he knew her favorite flower was a hibiscus syriacus, but he wasn't sure if he saw them lying anywhere.
luckily for him, the cashier decided to be nice enough and help him make a bouquet full of pink, purple and red flowers. it almost costed him fifty dollars, but he didn't care - for his girl he'd give everything he'd had, if it meant to get her back.
the knock on your door was soft almost thoughtful. it was the first night you'd slept at your own place and you hadn’t been expecting anyone, least of all this late in the evening. wrapped in a blanket, you hesitated for a moment before dragging yourself off the couch, still feeling the weight of the past few days pressing down on you.
as you opened the door, you froze.
there, standing in the dim glow of the porch light, was bradley. he looked nervous, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as he held out a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a dvd case in the other.
you blinked, not sure what to say. the bouquet was stunning—pink, purple, and red flowers carefully arranged, each petal as vibrant and fresh as it could be. you knew immediately that bradley had gone out of his way to pick these specifically, knowing exactly which colors you loved most. you blushed a bit.
"hey," he said softly. "can i come in?"
you swallowed, still processing the sight of him standing there, looking more vulnerable than you’d ever seen him. slowly, you nodded and stepped aside, letting him into the cosy beach house.
bradley walked in slowly, like he was afraid to disrupt the fragile peace of the moment. he placed the flowers gently on your kitchen counter, glancing back at you with an uncertain smile.
"i, uh…" he started, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "i wasn’t sure how to fix things between us, but i thought i’d try starting with these."
your eyes flicked between him and the flowers, the tension you’d been holding onto for days softening ever so slightly. "they’re beautiful," you said quietly, your voice betraying how much the gesture meant to you, even if you weren’t ready to fully admit it.
bradley let out a small breath of relief. "i hoped you’d like them."
you shifted your gaze to the dvd still clutched in his hand. "and what’s that?"
his face broke into a sheepish grin as he held up the case. "your favorite movie. i figured… well, maybe we could watch it together. i thought it might be a way to… i don’t know, make things feel a little more normal. or at least give us a chance to talk."
you glanced at the title—the notebook, your all-time favorite. it was the movie you turned to whenever you needed comfort or an escape from reality, and bradley knew it. the fact that he had brought it with him, even with all the awkwardness hanging between you, showed just how much he had been thinking about you.
your heart softened a little more, but you couldn’t help the guarded feeling that still lingered. "bradley, you didn’t have to do all this. i’ve been avoiding you for a reason."
"i know," he said, his voice steady but filled with emotion. "i get that. and i’m sorry for everything that’s happened. but i didn’t want to keep pushing you to talk before you were ready. i just… i wanted to show you that i’m still here. that i’m not going anywhere, no matter how hard things get."
you looked away, unsure of what to say. the past week had been a whirlwind of emotions, and the fight you had with bradley still hung heavy in your mind. but here he was, standing in front of you, making an effort not just to apologize but to be there for you, in the way you needed most.
"i’ve been thinking about what went wrong between us," bradley continued, stepping a little closer, though still giving you space. "i messed up. i didn’t listen to you the way i should have, and i know that. i just… i want to make it right. i don’t expect everything to go back to normal overnight, but i want you to know i’m willing to put in the work. for us."
you felt the lump in your throat grow as his words washed over you. it wasn’t just the flowers or the movie—it was the way bradley was looking at you, so full of hope and sincerity, like he would do anything to fix what had been broken between you.
for a long moment, the two of you stood there in silence, the weight of the past week hanging between you. but then, something shifted. the warmth of the flowers, the comfort of the movie, and the vulnerability in bradley’s eyes—it all made you realize that maybe, just maybe, you were ready to take that first step forward.
"bradley," you said softly, your voice catching slightly, "i’m still hurt. i need time. but… i don’t want to keep avoiding you. i don’t want us to be like this."
he nodded, relief evident in his expression. "i understand. i’ll give you all the time you need. i’m not going anywhere."
you took a deep breath, then nodded toward the living room. "you can stay. we can watch the movie. maybe it’ll help."
bradley smiled, that familiar, gentle smile that had always made you feel safe. "i’d like that."
the two of you moved to the couch, settling in with the blanket spread across both your laps. as the princess bride began to play, bradley didn’t try to force a conversation. instead, he just sat beside you, his presence steady and comforting, offering you exactly what you needed in that moment—no pressure, no expectations. just him, showing up for you.
and as the movie rolled on, you found yourself relaxing more and more, leaning into his arms.
#lizzieswrites𝜗𝜚#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw#top gun maverick#top gun 1986#top gun fanfiction#pete mitchell x reader#pete maverick mitchell#jake seresin#jake seresin x reader#bradley bradshaw x you#bradley bradshaw x female reader#girl writer#miles teller#miles teller x reader#bradley bradsaw x reader#jake seresin x you#maverick x reader
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-Alphabet headcanons-
;Miles G Morales
Miles G Morales x any gender reader
🎸 | Masterlist | 🎸
I still haven’t finished a post I’ve had in my drafts for like 3 months already ( ・∇・) (it’s a Leon Kennedy post lol) but in the meantime I’m going to write this and actively ignore the drafts (^з^)-♡ and ik Miles from 1610 and this Miles are super similar but they have different headcannons since they are still different people and they’ve had different experiences so yeah lol.
Warnings: not rly proofread
-‘A’ is for AFFECTION (how affectionate are they?)
Miles isn’t one to show much affection beyond a simple hand-in-hand or a small and quick peck while in public. But he is more affectionate when you two are in private, or with people he’s comfortable around. His love language is acts of service along with quality time. He likes building his tech when you’re around, not really talking but just chilling together while listening to music. If Miles ever gives you gifts he’ll give you homemade gifts like; paper bouquet, handwritten letter, homemade food and ect. I don’t really think he’d give a lot of materialistic gifts. Mostly because over half of the money he steals is to help him and his mom. And he doesn’t really get the point of them either. He gets they’re nice, but why buy something expensive when you can make something?
-‘B’ is for BESTFRIEND (what are they like as a bestfriend?)
He’a a pretty chill guy to be friends with at the end of the day. He might be a bit closed off at first but when he opens up he’s a huge nerd. He’ll talk about his tech for hours if you know he’s the Prowler. If you two go to a McDonald’s or something, he’s the one who’ll give you one chicken nugget but not buy you a box for you because he’s too poor for that, but if you buy him McDonald’s or something like that, he will give you something self-made as a thank you gift.
-‘C’ is for CUDDLES (how and do they like to cuddle?)
He’s one of them sleepy cuddle people, he especially cuddles with you when he’s sleepy or tired. He acts like he’s a big spoon when y’all cuddle, but he’s really a secret little spoon. He isn’t big on showing affection like I said before, but he is semi cuddly when you two are alone in peace. He likes wrapping himself around you, full body hug and all.
-‘D’ is for DOMESTIC (if they settle down, how will they help?)
Miles is a bit hesitant on settling down with someone. He wants to, yeah. But because of his Prowler job he isn’t quick to just live with anybody. But that aside, let’s talk about what it’s like to live with Miles. He’s the type of person who wants to split the chores. The chores he would do is probably cooking and things along those lines. If you know he’s the Prowler you 100% will find some random parts around the place. The random prowler claw in the coffee table in the living room. Don’t worry about it, Miles just wanted to watch some tv while he was fixing it. Miles appearing in the kitchen, his hands somehow covered in oil? He’s just getting water, don’t mind the oil, it’s just from his motorcycle. The random motorcycle and tech parts on the kitchen counter? Don’t worry, he’ll clean it up soon. He always tries to clean up his messes, but you might find some things that don’t belong in random places.
-‘E’ is for ENDING (how would the break up go?)
Depending on the situation of the break up and who breaks up with who, he still probably might be a bit sad about it, before or after the break up. If you’re the one who’s breaking up with him, he’d definitely want a reason why. He’d probably feel upset about it if it was for a good reason. If he’s the one breaking up with you. There’s are two reasons for him to break up with you. Reason number one; he doesn’t like you anymore and he’s not cruel enough to date someone he doesn’t like. Reason number two; he doesn’t want to put you in danger because of his Prowler job, he just wants to protect you one of the few ways he knows how to.
-‘F’ is for FIANCÉ (how do they feel about marriage)
Miles’ a bit hesitant to marry someone, but he does want to marry someone at some point of his life. He wants the same kind of marriage and love his mom and dad had together. If Miles has a wedding, he’d want a small wedding with only close friends and family attending. He’s not that interested in a big wedding with a ton of people. He thinks a wedding is something only the people who you and him are actually close to.
-‘G’ is for GENTLE (how gentle are they?)
He tries his best to be gentle with you. But he isn’t too good with it. Miles had built a kind of wall around himself after his dad’s death. He still tries his best with you, but somewhat always keeps you at an arms length. But after some time he lets you get closer. Miles’ always careful not to make you uncomfortable or uneasy.
-‘H’ is for HUGS (do they like hugs?)
Miles does like hugs, but he definitely isn’t that clear about it. He also somehow has some of the warmest, and best hugs ever to exist. His hugs with his family member and close friends are like bearhugs. He’s a little awkward hugging strangers tho.
-‘I’ is for I LOVE YOU (when do they say I love you for the first time?)
All things considered, Miles was probably the one who said “I love you” first. You two were hanging out on the rooftop of the apartment complex he lived in, just chilling and looking at the stars while listening to music from his phone. And suddenly he just blurted the words “I love you” while admiring you. It was a cute moment.
-‘J’ is for JEALOUSY (do they get easily jealous? And if they do, what will they do?)
He doesn’t get jealous that much, only when other people obviously flirt with you or something along those lines, he’s more protective than jealous most of the time. He knows you’re loyal, so he doesn’t act too jealous. The most he’ll do when he’s jealous is a small tug on your hand to signal he wants to leave while glaring at the other person, he has a cold exterior so the glare wasn’t unnecessary surprising.
-‘K’ is for KISSES (how often do they like to get or give kisses, and where?)
Miles isn’t someone who likes to give a lot of affection in public, like I said earlier. He does like giving kisses, and reviving them. Miles just doesn’t like giving them in public. When he does give kisses in public, the most he’ll do is give a little peck on the cheek, forehead or on your temple. When he does kiss you on the lips, he’ll definitely do it when you two are alone or at each others place like I’ve said multiple times. When you two kiss, he likes to have his hand on you hip or on the side of you neck. Miles also likes giving soft pecks on the neck when you two cuddle. He enjoys getting kisses, but he doesn’t like showing that. His favourite part to get kissed is on his temple or on the crook of his neck, but only a gentle kiss or peck.
-‘L’ is for LITTLE ONES (how are they with kids?)
There’s only one word on how to describe Miles with kids, awkward. He isn’t bad with them, or good with them. Just awkward. He doesn’t wanna hurt one of them, because of that he doesn’t really know how to handle them. He’s too scared that he’ll hurt one, so he prefers not to interact with kids.
-‘M’ is for MORNINGS (how are mornings with them?
He’s a groggy morning boy. And like I mentioned he’s cuddly when he’s tired, so don’t be expecting to be able to get up early. So when you wake up, you’re 100% in some messy position with Miles wrapped around you or laying on top of you. He probably drooled at least a bit during the night too. His whole morning routine is pretty simple, get up from bed. (Like ten minutes after he woke up) Then changing his clothes and getting breakfast after brushing his teeth, a simple and quick morning.
-‘N’ is for NIGHTS (how are nights with them?)
Miles has a full on night routine, it’s not a complicated one, but he still has one. He always takes a shower before he goes to bed. And his whole skin routine is only water. How does he have such clear skin with so little effort? Only no one knows. He also wears a durag to bed, he also has like three different durags to choose from. Why? Don’t ask, seriously, don’t. (He doesn’t know either) He also always says “good night” and “love you” to his mom before going to sleep. When he moves out, he’ll text it to her occasionally, but every night but some nights. Just to remind her that he still exists. (They talk almost every other day or every day on the phone)
-‘O’ is for OPEN (how open are they about themselves?)
Miles was more open before his dad’s death, but he became a lot more closed off after it. It takes a while for him to fully trust someone. But when he does give someone his trust, it’s like peeling an onion, a lot of layers. He’s slow at opening up, but when he does it means he really does trust you. When he does in fact trust you, you’re one of his forever friends. He’s the type of guy to have a few close friends rather than a lot of not so close friends.
-‘P’ is for PATIENCE (how patient are they with you?)
Since Miles himself is a pretty standoffish, so he understands if you don’t want to be open with him right off the bat. He’s definitely patient with you as long as you’re patient with him too. He wants to take his time with the relationship, not rush to things.
-‘Q’ is for QUIZZES (how much do they remember about you?)
Miles actually remembers quite a lot about you. It’s pretty surprising since he’s the Prowler, and his school along with helping his mom at home too.
-‘R’ is for REMEMBER (what’s their favourite moment in the relationship?)
One of his favourite moments in your relationship was when he told you he was the Prowler. You two had been dating for about a year and half at that point. You were staying over the night at his place. It was almost Halloween and the two of you were coming up with costume ideas when the topic of vigilantes came up. Or more specifically, the Prowler. Miles had been thinking about telling you that he was the Prowler for a bit at this point. So, he decided that now was a good time to tell you. A bit later Miles takes a deep breath and then takes your hands in his, before finally telling you the truth of him being the Prowler. It was a really nice moment to the two of you, and now one of Miles favourite moment of your relationship.
-‘S’ is for SECURITY (how protective are they?)
He’s actually a little protective, he wasn’t as protective before his dad died, but he got more protective after it. He doesn’t wanna loose another person who’s close to him. He also developed a small habit of walking you home when you’re over at his place. The city’s dangerous and he knows it, he likes knowing that you got home safe after you leave his place, it gives him some comfort.
-‘T’ is for TRY (how much effort are they putting into the relationship, dates and ect?)
Miles puts in his share fair of effort into the relationship, but if he notices that you’re not putting the same amount of effort into the relationship he’ll become more distant. He wants that the both of you put in effort for the relationship, not just one-sided effort. Like I mentioned before, he likes giving hand-made gifts and likes to cook homemade meals for you. He isn’t the biggest fan of going on fancy dates or anything. Mostly because he doesn’t really have enough money to pay for them, plus the city he lives in (and most likely you) definitely isn’t the safest place to have dates outside. Miles really likes dates that are spent indoors at each others houses. He especially likes movie dates, and dates where you cook or bake together. Doesn’t matter if you’re good at it or not, he’ll still have a lot of fun with you.
-‘U’ is for UGLY (what’s a bad habit of theirs?)
He sometimes has a dumb habit of forgetting to answer texts or calls when his phone’s on silent. And if he does see it, he sometimes forgets to respond completely and only realises it a few hours later.
-‘V’ is for VANITY (how insecure are they?)
He’s not an insecure person, at all. He’s pretty confident in himself, he’s just quiet. But like with my Miles 1610 alphabet headcannon, he’ll get a tiny iny bit insecure if you two haven’t spent time together in a while. (you should go read it if you haven’t already ;) )
-‘W’ is for WHOLE (do they feel whole without you?)
Miles would be sad without you, but he wouldn’t fully feel incomplete without you. But he would certainly miss you. He already lost his dad, so he knows how to deal with sadness. He would miss you. But it all depends if you died or left him. If you died Miles would definitely make a graffiti of you, just like he did of his dad. But if you left him, or the other way around. He would probably think about you time to time, even miss you at times. But he wouldn’t come after you, the walls around his heart wouldn’t let him.
-‘X’ is for XTRA (extra headcanon about them)
Miles is a great cook, his mom taught him how to cook since he’s been little. He wants to get a small tattoo in honour of his dad in the future. He likes drawing you in his sketchbooks, and as little doodles in sticky notes that are on his blueprints of his gear and other things. He actually doesn’t enjoy horror movies a lot, he gets scared easily by them even tho he puts on a front of not-being-scared-of-anything. Miles definitely tender headed, and he only ever lets a very specific barber or his mom touch his hair. And you if you’re lucky.
-‘Y’ is for YUCK (what can they not stand?)
He hates people who just cannot season food properly, it disgusts and pains him at the same time.
-‘Z’ is for ZLEEP (how is to sleep with them?)
Two words for sleeping with him; no space. He moves around a ton while he sleeps and like I mentioned earlier, he cuddles a lot while he sleeps. He definitely has a second blanket that he hugs in his sleep when he can’t cuddle anyone. He’s also one of those people who just cannot sleep without a blanket on. Is he overheating under it? Maybe. But he can’t not sleep with it. Without it he ain’t sleeping, honestly.
HAPPY PRIDE MONTH!! :)
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