#navy x brad

[navyphillips]

Navy was sure this was the worst thing someone could be selected for. Jury Duty. She'd managed to go thirty eight years without ever being selected yet here she was, two months into thirty nine and was currently waiting in line for selection. She'd gotten up insanely early, overly doing her make up and her hair despite the fact she was typically the kind of girl that only wore mascara on most days so this was a rather new look for her. Maybe she was trying too hard, but, there was a small part of her that hoped that if she were stuck here all day she'd at least get selected. She guess she'd see soon. She made her way up in line, sipping her coffee in the process. "I have to admit, there's not nearly enough coffee in the world to get me through this morning." she spoke, moving her attention to the person standing in front of her, realizing it was Brad from the park. "Oh, well, look who it is. What are the odds we'd both end up at jury duty selection on the same day?" @bradleymorrisx

[navyphillips]

Laughing at the other’s comment, Navy nodded. “That they did. Stopped practicing a few years later for reasons no one truly knows, but..” she shrugged, looking at him as she confessed that she’d nearly been in track, despite her shitty lungs. She’d always been an open book. She could carry on a conversation with a brick wall, honestly, that was no secret. But something about talking to Brad in this park made her want to open up. It made her want to say the things she was always too scared to say out loud, yet despite that urge, the push in her gut telling her it was okay, she allowed herself the moment to pause, pushing away any thoughts she had, instead letting the silence overcome them. It was - in it’s own way - comforting, a feeling Navy hadn’t felt outside of the members of her family in quite some time. Yet, the man’s voice brought her back and she offered him a smile. “You could pass for twenty eight easily.” she nodded. “Though I do feel a little better that your closer to my age than not; I know I look closer to forty than thirty.” she laughed, looking back over at him with a small smile, nodding at his comment about being the older sibling. “I’m thankful; I think it made me really responsible, but, honestly all that pressure.” she laughed again. “It’s a lot.” She refrained from stating the fact that her sister was no longer with her. The laugh that escaped her lips this time were genuine and Navy shrugged. “If you’re lucky it’s everyone; I can’t see why it wouldn’t be.” The man was attractive, there was no denying that, but to be so outward with it was something Navy hadn’t expected; first time for everything. The playful banter continued and Navy felt her cheeks blush as he complimented her. She’d always been confident in her looks but something about hearing the other say it made her stomach flutter just a little. She opened her mouth to thank him, hearing her phone buzz in her pocket. It was her parents, could’ve been anything, but, she knew they’d worry if she didn’t answer. “Excuse me for a moment.” she spoke, holding up a finger before she turned, speaking into the phone. The conversation was short lived - though it was obvious there was worry in her face once she hung up and turned around - and she exhaled, her attention refocused on the blonde in front of her. “I hate to be so abrupt, but, duty calls. She sighed, placing her phone in her pocket before she tightened her grip on Milo’s leash, watching as he stood, eager to keep moving. “Thank you again for saving this guy here.” she smiled, taking a few steps backwards. “And also, it was wonderful to meet you, Brad. Maybe I’ll see you around.” she smiled, turning her back towards him, walking away. @bradleymorrisx

THE END

For the first time in his life, or at least the first time since his ex had left him, Brad felt something deep within him regarding someone else. It was possibly the first time where he didn't automatically want to just sleep with a woman. No, he actually wanted to get to know her first. What the hell, was all he could think subconsciously, though a part of him knew at his age he should probably cool his heels with the way he would wine and done women. Between her laugh, her smile, and her eyes, he was drawn in and there was no going back. An expression of shock crept upon his face at the mention of how her doctor suggested it, "damn, that doc has some sick sense of humor." He shook his head before wincing regarding her knees, "looks like your knees were your saving grace there." This time he smiled and gestured towards her knees a bit, before his brow furrowed and he rose an eyebrow. "Oh?" He asked, wanting to make a witty and flirty comment but refrained from doing so, as he definitely wanted to actually get to know her first. As he wiped his forehead of some sweat from the heat of the sun, he laughed at her comment. "Oh please, there is no way I look twenty eight," he teased, playfully ribbing her, "though I will be taking that as a compliment and never letting my friends forget that I can pass as that age." His cheeks actually started to blush, something he hadn't realized until it was too late and his cheeks were a nice shade of pink. Make things a little awkward? He thought to himself, wondering what she meant, though he was hoping they'd see each other in some capacity passed this one interaction. Not just hope, a part of him needed to keep seeing her as random as that might be. Nodding, he smiled, "gotta love being the older sibling right?" He asked with a laugh, when in reality he didn't mind it. At least not now anyway, and hadn't for well over two decades. Looking down and kicking an errant pebble with the toe of his shoe, he bit his lip, "good to know, though now I'm going to be incredibly self conscious at work and wonder who's checking me out." He was only teasing, before adding, "Oh these?" He said and tugging on a very sweaty tank, "you should see me in actual clothes while walking Milo. Much more attractive." He felt silly but at the same time he almost felt a bit humbled and honestly he liked it. "Though a woman with a nice smile and great eyes who are weak in the knees, really does it for some people."

[dearsnow]

SAY IT LIKE YOU MEAN IT (WITH YOUR FISTS FOR ONCE)

- you and bradley had always been attached at the hip until life pulled him away. when you’re finally living in the same place again, your unspoken feelings come to the surface during a san diego bonfire. (bradley “rooster” bradshaw x gn!reader, reader is characterized as someone who doesn’t like much attention, jealousyyyyyyyyy, pining & arguments but fluff at the end, ⚠️ mentions of alcohol / weed)

word count: 2,500

a/n - it’s so entertaining to come up with synonyms for kissing 😭 anyways, enjoy this, and listen to american teenager by ethel cain. oh and i was also so tempted to make the girl mickey in a wig, but i held back.

Bradley Bradshaw likes you. He’d go as far as to say he loves you, if he was being honest. He’s never said it, though, not in that way.

When you first met, he was pulled to you like a magnet. It was preschool, and he never left your side. He made macaroni portraits of you and you crafted tiny little friendship bracelets for him. Neither of you could speak well, or write well, but you stuck together anyways.

Your first written words were each other’s names.

Everything snowballed from there, but he couldn’t say he was mad at it.

You were so entirely different, but that’s what made it good, in his opinion. He always needed eyes on him, not for any pretentious ego-boosting reasons, but because it made him thrive. You tended to hide in the shadows. When you gave your eyes to him, and him to you, it was like the most natural thing in the world.

He was the classic class clown type all throughout middle and high school, with a football jersey and everything. When you came to his games, he swore he played a million times better, and you were happy to indulge in his superstition.

You like him, too. You’d go as far as to say you love him, if you’re being honest. You might’ve said it if he hadn’t been so clearly your platonic life partner. You would follow him, as toddlers, with his shirt edge balled in your small fist. You tried to draw him more times than you could count, but it always looked wrong, like you couldn’t really capture the life that he held so deeply in his eyes. You even considered joining the cheerleading squad for him, but you would’ve cringed under the gaze of the crowd.

When he left for the navy, and for college, and for anything after that, you wished you could bounce across the United States with him. Instead, you wrote him letters; copious amounts of them.

One thing that you both never dared to cross was the bounds of friendship. He would hold your hand, his thumb smoothing over the side of your fist, and there was nothing romantic about it. God, you wished it was, though.

Now that you’ve moved to San Diego, following him one last time, you beg whatever makes the rules to break them just once.

You walk up behind a broad-shouldered man you barely recognize and tap him on the shoulder. “I’m sorry, but I seem to be lost. Could you direct me to a man named Bradley? I believe his call sign is something silly, like ‘duck’.”

He whips around, sunglasses and mustache entirely new to you. He speaks your name in a breathy whisper, like he’s afraid his words will break if he says them too loud. “You’re here? Like actually?”

You’ve barely replied before you’re wrapped in a hug, feet lifted off the ground and body spun around so many times you think you might be sick. “Geez, Brad, put me down!”

He sets you down gently, holding out an arm for stability as you collect your bearings. “Sorry, sorry. I just can’t believe I’m seeing your face after all this time.” You’re even more breathtaking than he remembers.

San Diego has done him well, you reckon. His gold-tinted skin holds a deeper sense of warmth, now, even though he has always run hot. “You better get used to it. I have a fancy new apartment now, so I’m here to stay.”

His face holds a beaming grin, and the whole world falls away. “Thank god, I was beginning to think I’d be stuck here with just my coworkers.” He doesn’t even notice how you look at him with lovesick eyes.

After two months of San Diego, you say the one thing you thought you would never say: “I’m so sick of the sun.”

It’s midday, and you’re prepping for a Fourth of July bonfire party on the beach. The sun is beating down on your back, forcing you to scamper into the ocean every once in a while. Bradley is right beside you, wheeling yet another cooler onto the sand. “If I wasn’t worried about our shit being stolen, I’d suggest we abandon it and let Jake do all the work.”

You laugh. Jake was the one who suggested the whole bonfire, but, of course, he was “too busy” to help set up. You don’t mind doing the work. If it was an opportunity for you to be beside Bradley, you’d do anything. You’d even brave the burning ball of gas in the sky.

As you work, the sun disappears quickly.

By this point, after over two decades of friendship, you’ve lost a bit of that hope that pushed you to follow Brad in the first place. You know he’s attractive, and every woman in the world seems to know it too. What you didn’t know is that you’re pretty damn attractive too. As you’ve told yourself, you prefer to keep the attention off of you.

So, as the sun’s last dying rays scatter over the cooling sand, you pretend not to notice the women ogling your best friend.

The bonfire is great. Amazing, even. The flames reach high into the sky and the smell of smoke permeates the air; everything is cast in this sort of hazy glow, highlighting tanned skin and bright swimsuits. There’s also a woman chatting up Bradley, touching his arm flirtatiously, but you push that to the back of your mind. Instead, you’re focused on the guy in front of you, even when her giggle sends a ball of spikes into your heart.

He’s tall, a little on the skinny side, with tousled black hair and a puka shell necklace. Sand clings to his sandaled feet. He hands you a beer, which you tell yourself you won’t drink much of. You’ve already had a bit too much.

“So, know anyone here?” He asks. He’s eyeing you with a certain ferocity that you don’t notice, his gaze raking up and down your body.

You pop the can open and take a small sip. “Yeah. I know Bradshaw, and the rest by association.” You gesture to Jake and Natasha, who are arguing over a beach volleyball. You almost smile at the way she jabs him in the ribs, making him double over just enough for her to steal what’s so carefully held in his hands. The guy nods.

“I don’t. I’m here for the vibes, y’know?” He takes a step closer, and you notice he smells like smoke and something deeper, like perfumed weed. “And the pretty people.”

You shift in your place. “Have you found what you’re looking for?” You’re almost teasing now, completely missing the hunger in the way he licks his lips. Maybe you’re a little drunk, or maybe you’re just enjoying how someone seems to be giving you the longing looks you so sorely crave. It’s one night, you figure. You won’t ever see him again. What’s wrong with a little good-natured flirting?

“Absolutely.” He murmurs, reaching forward. His hand connects with the back of your neck, his breath cascading over your face, and your eyes flutter shut— before you’re yanked backwards by an arm around your waist.

You stumble. “What the hell?” You curse, colliding with a hard, warm chest. You drop your beer in the sand as you fall back. It’s Bradley, and he looks furious. “Brad, are you kidding me?”

“Come here.” His voice is lethally quiet and sharp as a knife. Your mind is reeling as you follow him a few paces closer to the fire, but a hot pool of anger sits in your stomach.

“Are you being serious right now? What in the world were you thinking?” You hiss. You look up at his tight-lipped face, utterly stoic in the light behind him.

“I’m not letting you kiss that piece of shit.”

“Who are you to decide who I kiss?” You’re so, so mad. So mad you could punch someone, but that would probably hurt you more than the person your fist connects with. Bradley just intervened in the one thing you thought he would never intervene in. You’ve let him swap spit with girls you’ve never seen before, and now he’s over here acting like you kissing one guy is the epitome of nastiness?

He scoffs. “You didn’t even notice, did you? That he was eyeing you like a piece of meat? God, he reeks of weed and swamp ass, too. What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking that I could have the once in a lifetime opportunity to make out with a perfectly attractive guy without someone interrupting.” Your arms are crossed, but you feel a lump forming in your throat. In your mind, that really was a once in a lifetime opportunity. It’s not like you go out of your way to meet people, and the people you’ve met have never even slyly complimented you. You’re not the type that gets dates or drinks sent your way or anything more than platonic. Currently, platonic is staring you in the face with the rage of a thousand suns behind his eyes.

“Make out with Bob or Nat, I don’t care. At least they won’t undress you with their fuckboy blue eyes. Even Bagman is a better choice.”

“You don’t get to decide those things— friends don’t get to decide those things. I mean, I didn’t throw a hissy fit when you were openly flirting with that girl.” In the back of your mind, you know he’s right. You know that your stomach dropped when the guy leaned closer to you, and that your kicked-down self esteem made him out to be a whole lot more attractive than he probably (definitely) was.

Bradley runs a hand through his already slightly messy hair, sighing like he’s regretting ever hitting you with a sand pail in preschool. “I at least get to decide when to save you from creeps and when to leave your love life alone. Trust me, you were in more danger than I ever was.”

“I reiterate, friends don’t get to decide those things.” He can see the insecurity swimming in your beautiful eyes. Yeah, you’re definitely at least somewhat drunk. You’d never argue with him like this if you weren’t. You’re also more than a little mad, and disgusted with yourself, and disappointed with your lack of charisma, and so jealous of the girl he probably tangled tongues with.

“What do I have to be, then, to get it through your thick skull? You know I love you. I’m just looking out for you.” His voice is softer, now, and sweeter, dripping from his mustache like honey.

He reaches out, and you cringe away. Love. It’s a word unspoken, one that’s been lingering on your mind since the day in seventh grade when he suddenly became attractive to you. Like most things, you assume it’s friendly. “Do you really love me if this is what you’re pulling? Say it like you mean it, Bradshaw.”

“I love you.” He states, taking your hands in his. This time, as you try to pull yourself from his grip, he holds on. “I love you.” He says again. It holds a certain weight that gets your heart pounding like a drum in your chest. He’s firm but gentle, and he can feel the years of unspoken feelings bubbling on the tip of his tongue.

That’s when the guy from before decides to approach, sliding a hand uncomfortably down your waist. “I think you interrupted us, dude.”

Bradley drops your hands, and before the man can grab you even lower, he’s getting decked in the face.

He collapses to the ground, clutching his bleeding nose and cursing like a bitch. “Fuck you, what the fuck! Fuckin’ Navy piece of fucking shit.” You raise your hand to your mouth as he scrambles to get away. His blood leaves a scarlet trail of droplets in the sand.

“Bradley…”

“I just want you to be safe.” He mutters, like he didn’t just punch someone in the face for you. “I don’t care if you don’t feel the same way, romantically, but I can’t stand seeing you with guys that aren’t as smart or good-looking as one fraction of your pinky toe.”

You reach up to his jaw, carefully, gingerly, before pressing your lips to his.

Like a scene from a movie, Fourth of July fireworks explode behind you, not unlike the fireworks going off in your mind. He has one hand on your waist and one hand on the back of your head, and neither make you even the slightest bit uncomfortable. It’s Bradley, and he makes you feel like the safest person in the world.

Your lips are soft, so soft. Bradley can practically hear his heart pounding in his ears as his body finally takes in the moment he’s been dreaming about his entire life. When you pull away, he misses the feeling, like the lost puzzle piece of his heart was stolen as soon as it was put back.

“You think my pinky toe is smart and good-looking?” You place a hand on his bare chest, teasing. He gives you the grin you’ve come to adore.

“Every part of you is. That’s why I love you.”

“I love you too. For more than your pinky toe, of course.”

“Oh,” he says, suddenly conscious of the self-satisfied look you shoot her, “y’know that girl I was talking to?” You raise your eyebrows questioningly as he nods his head at her. She sends a little wave, in which you notice a sparkling ring on her finger. “That, my love, is Reuben’s wife.”

You feel your heart sink to your feet as the embarrassment sets in, your cheeks growing warmer than the fire. You mouth a quiet “sorry” at her and she laughs, shooing your apology away with a gentle sweep of her hand.

“Is that why you went after Mr. Broken nose?” Bradley whispers in your ear. “That’s one hell of a way to make me jealous.”

You crinkle your nose as your face flushes impossibly warmer. “Not everything has an ulterior motive, Bradshaw.”

He looks perfect in this lighting, and to him, so do you. You can hardly believe that decades of friendship and tension and wishing led to this slightly improbable moment. You’re honestly glad you almost kissed a stranger.

“Yeah, but you’d best believe I do.”

He takes your hand in his and drops to one knee. Everyone turns to look at him, but for once, the only eyes that matter are yours. “Will you do me the honor of letting me be your lawfully appointed boyfriend?” You smile so wide you think your cheeks might split. You join him in the sand, holding his face in your hands and kissing his cheek.

“You really did mean it, huh, Brad?”

“Is that a yes or a no?”

“Yes. It’s a definite, no-questions-asked, yes.”

[jetblack4realz]

idiot girlfriends - bradley "rooster" bradshaw x reader

summary - bradley's stupid girlfriend doesn't understand that bradley has a life-long best friend, and that would be you

warnings - no

word count - 2.6k

______________________________________________________________

when you joined the navy, everyone knew it was only because of bradley bradshaw. well, and nick bradshaw. you wanted to do right by him and his memory by serving the same way he did and followed bradley into the navy, even pulling your own papers to graduate the same time and be in the same classes as him.

you two had been inseparable since you were toddlers. your mothers were childhood best friends and so when goose died carole moved her and brad right back to the same small town she grew up in in virginia, only a few doors down from you all.

so, when you two got assigned across the world from each other, it was a shock to everyone.

you met again in top gun, both competing for the top spot and landing ten marks above the rest of your classmates. you tied, which everyone thought was a good resolution, but you both teased about who really won for years.

you loved your line of work, emailing bradley on deployments and facetiming whenever the time difference allowed. you'd gone on random deployments off in fightertown and did a few in naples, but for the most part your commanding officers fought for you to stay in guam.

until the uranium mission.

you were ecstatic to be back in the states, stationed with him. and mav. but, mostly him. you'd jumped into his arms when you walked in and spotted him talking to your friends by the pool tables. everyone thought you guys were a thing, and you both were casual in blowing them off.

you trained hard, working well together in your fights against maverick. you managed to find tone on him once and only once, but hell, you were proud of it.

you flew with bradley and maverick, coyote as your backseater and accomplishing the mission. when he went down, you nearly had a heart attack. and when he got back it took everything in you not to kiss him, instead opting to wrap your arms around him in a death-grip of a hug.

because he had a girlfriend.

her name was gabbie, and she definitely gabbed. she was a brat, you and phoenix decided as soon as you were introduced to her.

"hey," bradley said with a wide smile, reaching out for you as he approached the group. you matched his smile and wrapped your arms tightly around him in a quick hug. when you pulled away, he offered phoenix a quick wave before he gestured to the girl with narrowed eyes behind him. "guys, this is gabbie. we've been together a couple months, she started emailing me this last deployment."

"right," you nodded, offering her a polite smile. "hi."

"this is phoenix, and this is minnie - or y/n," bradley said, gesturing to you with a soft smile. he looked back at his girlfriend. "she's my childhood best friend, i've known her forever."

"oh really?" she hummed with a dramatically sweet smile. "well, it's nice to meet you then."

"yeah, you too," you said with a nod. "wanna play pool with us? you could have the table next."

"does everyone in the navy play pool? even the women?" she laughed to rooster, his brows furrowing slightly. she looked back at you. "just because you're in the military doesn't mean you have to do everything the guys do. and you don't have to wear your hair that way on night's out either. you're off duty! dress cute!"

you were beyond shocked and so were the rest of your friends. your hair was up in a messy bun because yeah, you were tired after the week's dealings and didn't want to curl it. but also, top knots weren't regulation anyways.

and you thought it looked cute.

"i'm sorry?" you asked, tilting your head as you stared at her.

"well, do you like how i did my hair? i could show you if you want," she offered, playing with her front pieces, but it only made your grimace deepen.

"i'm good, thanks," you told her. you turned your attention to hangman, your go-to games partner. "jake - darts?"

as you walked away, whispering to him likely about gabbie, bradley watched with a frown.

whenever she hung out with the daggers she insisted that she would rather stay by his side than hang out with you and phoenix, making snide comments about women in the military and more about your appearance. and whenever you would try to have a private conversation with him, she was immediately by his side. you felt like you never talked to him anymore, that you couldn't talk to him anymore.

"wanna step outside for a minute?" you asked quietly, nodding your head to the back porch. "i need to talk to you about something."

"yeah, for sure," he answered quickly, his brows furrowed in concern. "what's wrong?"

you sighed, glancing around at where your friends were stood swinging back beers and shooting around the pool table in a game of 9-ball. your eyes caught on an approaching gabbie, a fresh mai tai in hand.

"can we go outside?"

"yeah, of course," he said with a nod. his hand hovered over your lower back as he ushered you to the back door, slipping out of it behind you and following you to the railing. he leaned his back against it, eyes on you.

"what's wrong?"

"my dad texted this morning," you said, breath shaky as you glanced at your phone. he looked down too, reaching for it when it was offered to him. "it's my mom."

the door opened and out came gabbie. "hey guys! what's up?"

"hey baby, i'm so sorry, but could you go back inside?" rooster asked gently, offering her an apologetic smile. "we're having a private conversation."

"too private for your girlfriend?" she asked, quirking a brow as she glanced at you. she looked you up and down and you hated how pissed off it made you.

"yeah, i'm sorry honey," he said. "it's personal."

"shouldn't i know about your personal things?" she asked, her tone still high and light enough to feign innocence, but you were getting increasingly upset as she refused to leave.

"it's not his personal life, it's mine. it's my stuff that i'd like to discuss with my best friend, in private," you said in as even a tone as you could produce.

"do you need help with anything?" she asked. "i could help too."

"no thank you," you said. "just bradley right now."

"no, i'm actually working front desk at a therapists' office right now and i've picked up on a few things. i'd be happy to work a few techniques with you if you're feeling depressed or-"

"forget it," you mumbled, shoving your phone in your pocket and pushing passed her to get inside.

bradley sighed, following you quickly. she tried to catch his arm, saying something about the sunset, but he followed you inside, mumbling apologies and trying to get you to talk to him again.

you offered him a thin smile. "later."

later never came. there wasn't enough time in the work day to talk about private matters and it seemed like gabbie now had a permanent tie to his side.

the girl infuriated you to your core.

but, for bradley's sake and trying to be a good best friend, you offered one night to get to know her outside of the hard deck. she didn't even entertain the idea when bradley approached her about it.

"i'm not a girl's girl," she mumbled to him while you exchanged an eyeroll with coyote, able to hear their whole conversation thanks to her inability to whisper. "i've never been good at that. i'm better with guys."

"not likely," phoenix muttered to you with a roll of her eyes. "hypocrite."

"well, she's not necessarily girly either, hun," rooster told her, brows furrowed. "she is military."

"which isn't my cup of tea either. but, it's alright! i'll just stay with you and the boys," she answered, hands coming up to hang off his shoulder. her eyes were trained on you as you turned back to your game with hangman, scoffing under your breath.

"alright baby," rooster relented, eyes on your back with a knit in his brow.

"i'm trying here," you muttered to the man next to you as you leaned down to take your next shot. jake shrugged.

"can't help who she likes as friends."

"wish i could help who she likes romantically."

"what do you mean by that, min?" a smirk was already growing on his lips and you groaned.

"oh, don't start. everyone knows it," you said, moving around the table for the best angle.

"yeah, but you've never admitted it," he teased, following you. "do you like rooster?"

"he's right there, dickhead, go and say it louder," you said with a quick glare, shooting your last ball into the pocket.

"what'd you say, minnie?" rooster asked, eyes on you and jake both intently.

"nothing, just trash-talking hangman here," you answered, standing and clapping a hand on said man's shoulder. you smiled at jake. "he's about to get his ass beat."

you lined the cue ball up with the 8 ball, counting to three in your mind before you shot, the two balls clicking together and the 8 ball landing in the corner like you predicted.

"ha!" you exclaimed, turning to him. "loser!"

"you didn't call it," he hummed, a wicked grin on his lips. "scratch! i won!"

"what? no!" you cried.

"oh yes, princess," he laughed.

"you could tell what i was going for," you argued.

"oh could i?" he teased with a wiggle of his brows.

you scoffed, but couldn't help the laugh that escaped your mouth as he did a stupid 80s-like victory dance, phoenix leaning into you to mumble teases about the man.

from behind you, bradley's face had settled into a scowl.

"minnie," he called. "you and me."

your eyebrows shot up and a smirk lifted one side of your mouth. "oh really, roo? you wanna take me on?"

gabbie looked taken aback that he'd offered to play you.

"she just played. how 'bout you play coyote here?" she asked, looking at javi with a smile.

"nah, i'll give y/n another chance to win," he answered, his eyes not leaving you as you faced him with a smile.

"game on, chicken," you told him with a grin, moving to rack the balls.

he helped you, your hands brushing as you placed them into the triangular rack. your eyes found each other, a subtle smile on your lips as you placed the 8 ball in the center.

"all you mousey," he told you.

"you know, maybe i will take you up on your offer," gabbie chimed in, catching your attention. "let's do something."

"alright," you said slowly, nodding at her. "we'll figure it out later."

"no, let's go get a drink and talk," she replied.

"i'm playing bradley right now. later," you insisted. she seemed to harden at your use of his proper name and she approached where you stood next to rooster. she grabbed your forearm gently, tugging you towards the bar.

"phoenix will take your place. come on!" she said with fake enthusiasm. everyone could tell it was just that and you were left stumbling after her with knitted brows.

"no gabbie, we're playing," rooster told her, taking a hold of your other arm and tugging you back to him. she turned to him with a sharp look in her eye and you hated where you were standing at that moment.

"she wanted girl time, bradley, so i'm giving her girl time," she told him. she turned her attention to you, a sweet sweet smile shot in your direction. "maybe i can give you makeup advice?"

"okay, no," you laughed dryly, ripping you arm from her grasp easily. "i'm good, thank you. i don't need your makeup advice."

"oh, honey, you do," she cooed condescendingly. "i think the boys would agree."

"you're being rude and i'd like you to leave," you said calmly. you looked at rooster. "can you take her home, please?"

he looked conflicted, glancing at you and then gabbie.

"i don't need to go home," she told you.

"oh, so you're gonna play nice?" you asked, raising your brows.

"i will when you do," she answered, glaring openly at you now. you breathed an incredulous laugh, glancing back at phoenix with wide eyes before returning your attention to her.

"what the hell does that mean? i've been trying to be friends with you, lady!"

"oh yeah, just so you can cozy up next to bradley a second later," she said, her glare deepening as she gestured to his hand on your wrist.

"the hell are you saying?" you asked. "i've known him my whole life, forgive me for trying to maintain a friendship."

"no," she shot back. "because you're not just maintaining it."

"yeah, it's flourishing under your watch," you spat sarcastically. you shook your head, glancing back at bradley for a moment before pulling your arm from him and stepping back. you held your hands up in faux defense, scoffing as you stepped towards the door. "sorry brad, i'm not allowed to talk to you anymore."

"no, y/n, stop," he said quickly, shaking his head and sighing. "gabbie, stop saying stuff like that."

"it's true! she's making moves on you bradley," gabbie insisted.

the daggers were not amused, watching as you rolled your eyes and waiting for what bradley would do in respone.

"she's not," he said.

"but if i was?"

that was a question that caught him off guard. he looked at you, his mouth falling open and brows furrowing as he struggled for a response.

"i - what?"

you sighed, crossing your arms over your chest before looking at him with complete seriousness and honesty. "look, she's not the girl for you bradley. i think you've figured that out by now. the rest of us sure as hell have."

"what are you saying?"

"i'm here," you said with a shrug, taking another step back towards the door. "i've always been here. do with that what you will."

gabbie was awestruck, watching you with wide eyes as you strutted out of the bar.

"bradley-"

"gabbie, i can't do this anymore," he said, eyes flashing to her as soon as you left his view. "she's right. you're not the girl for me and i'm not the guy for you. you'll find him, i know you will."

"what? what the hell are you-"

"and now i've gotta go get mine," he said, offering her a small, apologetic smile before running through the bar, dodging customers and slipping out the door after you.

"about time," coyote laughed, leaning back to sip on his beer.

"oh, screw all of you," gabbie spat. "i thought we were getting along, but i guess not."

"cheers to that!" jake said, clinking his bottle with phoenix's as she glared, leaving the room quickly.

bradley chased after you, desperation in his voice as he called, "y/n! y/n!"

you turned, a subtle smile on your lips as you peered at him. "yeah?"

"i want you," he said, grabbing your hands with a wide smile. "i want you forever. i want you to always be here and i want to always be here for you and i'm sorry that i wasn't, but i promise i will be."

"just kiss me, bradshaw," you told him, a grin overtaking his lips as he pulled you into him, his hands cupping your jaw as he pressed his lips to yours.

the kiss wasn't without passion, the both of you having been waiting for this moment for who knows how many years. your arms were wound tightly around his neck as you pulled away for air. you both had stupid grins on your faces, just watching each other.

"thanks," you breathed out dopily.

"anytime," he answered. he leaned closer to you, smirking slightly. "all the time."

he kissed you again, you smiling as you kissed him back.

"fuck yeah!"

you pulled back quickly to see phoenix and the daggers on the front porch, watching with knowing grins.

"we've been waiting for this!" coyote whooped.

you rolled your eyes and laughed at your friends before looking bradley back in his beautiful browns. "i have been too."

[nfr-girly]

Little Hope - Bradley Bradshaw x reader (Part 1)

Bradley’s priority’s have always been the navy and his daughter, hope, but what happens when his daughter’s teacher comes into the mix?

a/n: literally never wrote a fic before let me know if it’s good

Ever since Bradley and his ex had split up, he had been his daughter’s main guardian. He doesn’t really speak to his ex, and he doesn’t want to. Balancing being a dad and the navy wasn’t easy, so when the time came for Hope to go to pre-school, he couldn’t complain.

“Hey have you got your bag?” Brad asked

“Yes!!”

“And did you brush your teeth?”

“Of course I’m not like you” she rolled her eyes jokingly, to which he smiled at

He strapped her in her seat and pulled out of the drive. Brad was feeling all types of emotions, relief that he could spend some more time in the navy while she learns, sad that she’s growing up, also happy for her to make friends. He didn’t like feeling emotions. He never thought it ended well, and in his case it never had.

Pulling into the car park of the school, he stops for a minute. The school is a good size; he sees kids running around, parents talking to each other. He feels a sense of hope that she’ll be okay, but the other half is telling him to take her back home.

“Daddy are we going in??” Hope asks, the gap where her tooth was showing clear, she sits cuddling her bear.

“Oh yeah honey sorry” he gets out and unstraps her out her seat; they walk hand in hand towards the school.

Walking along he feels some eyes on him, at first he thinks maybe they’re judging him, or worst, hope. But as he glances he realises some of the mums are checking him out. He looks away quickly, he had decided to wear a very tight shirt today.

He walked into classroom 2b, which was what classroom hope was apparently in. He looks around and sees the back of who he guesses is the teacher. He waits till she’s done talking to a student.

But as soon as she turned around, Bradley had completely zoned out everything around him but you. As you notice him, you give him a smile and start walking towards him. If he didn’t feel nervous already, he absolutely did now.

“Hi!! Im Miss L/N!! I assume you are hope?” You kneel down to match hopes height, while Bradley’s eyes are still on you. He would’ve thought he had landed in heaven seeing you.

“Yes!! This is my daddy!!!” Hope says, tugging at Bradley’s shirt. He snaps out of his trance as you get up again, trying to understand what just happened

your POV

Being in the presence of Hopes father could be classed as its own national holiday, because being able to meet a man that gorgeous should be celebrated.

“Hi! My names Miss L/N, but you can just call me Y/N” I whisper the last part

“Hi.. Im uh- im hopes dad, but my names Bradley” he says as he shakes my hand. I don’t even know if I can think the things I’m thinking about a students dad, but who gives a shit.

“Nice to meet you Bradley, I just know hope will have a great time here!” I smile at him, which he grins back at.

“Yeah I hope. She’s feeling excited so it should be alright. so uh I gotta get going now, but pick ups at 3:15 right?”

“Yeah!” I reply; feeling sudden disappointment from him having to leave

“Hey honey I’ll be back soon okay?” He has a little conversation with his daughter, I notice a lot of features they share, same nose, same eyes. It makes my heart fill with warmth even more

He gives her a peck on the cheek before getting up.

“Well I’ll uh, pick her up at 3:15 then” he says

“Yeah um see you then” I smile

He smiles back before turning around and heading out the door.

“So hope let’s get you to your desk and meet your classmates okay!” I say

“Okay!” She smiles as we walk towards the classroom. She talks about her teddy bear, and how she named him Rooster, I assume maybe she likes roosters? Half of the conversation I may have been thinking back to her dad. God, why is 3:15 so far away?

————————————————————————

[roostersbby69]

0.2 | I’ll be here for you

Summary: the one where you and Bradley cross the boundary of being friends.

Warnings: teen pregnancy, Bradley’s mom is still alive currently

Paring: teen Bradley x teen Mitchel!reader

Full masterlist.

Trying to wrap your head around that you were pregnant was harder than you thought. You honestly felt like you had trapped Bradley from pursuing his dreams of being in the navy.

But he assured you that you had done nothing wrong and that you would figure it out together.

The hard part was telling your dad and his mom, but mainly just your dad.

Bradley and you were currently at his house for lunch, his mom was making chicken salad and mixed it in the bowl as you munched on some grapes.

“Hey Brad,” she called over her shoulder to the teen who was sitting in front of you.

“Yes ma’am?” Bradley looked up.

“You mind grabbing some plates?”

Bradley got up and went straight to the cabinet where the plates were kept, “Got it.”

He set them down at the table as she brought the bowl of chicken and some bread.

As soon as the smell hit your nose you gagged, you tried to hide it under your hand as she fixed her sandwich and asked Bradley about his chemistry class as he gave you worried glances.

He watched you swallow as you tried to hold yourself together, you gagged once again when you smelt it again and jolted up from your seat to run to the hallway bathroom.

You crouched down and emptied your stomach when Bradley came running in and grabbed your hair from your face.

“Are you ok?” He asked as he tried to move the hair and get you situated.

“Don’t look at me!” You waved his face away from yours as you gagged once more.

He backed off and grimaced, he held your hair as you finished up and groaned.

“What’s going on?” Carol ran into the bathroom as she heard the commotion.

“Everything’s okay.” Bradley reassured her, Carol looked very concerned as she crouched next to you.

“Do you need some medicine, baby?”

You shook your head, you knew what this was, it wasn’t the chicken salads fault, “No thank you, I’m fine now.” You got up and Bradley jumped in to steady you in case you fell over.

He had his hands on your arms as you walked out of the bathroom and he set you on the couch, “You want some water?”

“Please.” You nodded, the taste in your mouth was horrible, you needed something to wash it down.

He nodded and ran to the kitchen to grab a water bottle and brought it back to you. He opened it and handed it to you and looked to see if his mom was around, “Is it because of the…” he looked to your belly.

“Probably.” You groaned, you still didn’t believe you were pregnant, but the three tests you took after the first one said otherwise.

He took the bottle from you and placed it on the coffee table before tucking your hair behind your ear.

You looked into his eyes and wondered how he still cared for you when you were his best friend who was pregnant with his baby. How he seemed so unfazed and didn’t seem like he was scared, but you knew you definitely were.

“What do we do?” You whispered as tears filled your eyes.

Bradley sighed and shook his head, “I’ll have to sell my liver to afford diapers.” You could see the smirk on his face that tried to crawl its way onto his lips.

You smacked his arm and widened your eyes, “Stop it!”

He laughed and his shoulders shook as he rubbed your leg softly, “I’m kidding,” then his face went back to serious, “I don’t know, we just take it smooth until this baby comes.”

You nodded and wiped the tears from under your eyes, “I’m just, so sorry that I trapped you like this.”

“You didn’t trap me, it’s just an unexpected surprise.” He shrugged and tried to comfort you.

“But we aren’t anything Bradley, we’re childhood best friends who had sex and got pregnant.”

He nodded, “I know, I know. But hey,” he made you look into his eyes, “I’m not going anywhere. I’m not running off, we’ll figure this out. Together.”

You smiled and pulled him in for a hug, he wrapped his arms around you and rubbed your back.

Carol walked in and smiled as she watched you pull away from Bradley, she walked into the kitchen and grabbed a nausea pill and brought it to you.

“Here you go, you’ll feel better after you take this.”

You thanked her and took it as Bradley watched you carefully for any sign that you were going to get sick again.

When he realized you weren’t, he offered to drive you home.

“Please.” You mumbled as he grabbed his keys and stood up. You hugged and thanked Mrs. Carol before apologizing for the mess.

“You didn’t leave a mess, sweetheart, I just want you to feel better.” She rubbed your arm and pulled you in for one of her signature mom hugs.

“Thank you.” You smiled.

“Call me if you need anything!” She called out the door as you buckled up in Bradley’s truck.

He honked as he backed out and turned onto the road.

The ride was silent for a minute until you decided to break it, “Thank you for helping me.”

He glanced at you and turned back to the road, “That’s what I’m here for.” He saw the scared look on your face and smiled to make you smile.

It worked, Bradley’s smile always made you smile.

“The only problem is telling our parents.” He rubbed his face as he turned onto your street.

“Yeah, if my dad even listens.” You muttered.

He gave you an apologetic look, “I think he will this time.”

-

Bradley walked you inside and set your stuff down and hurried behind you as you made a beeline for the bathroom once more.

He sat down beside you and held your hair as you puked your guts out. He rubbed your back when you groaned and found a hair tie on the bathroom floor. He picked it up and, somehow managed to, tie your hair up.

Bradley grabbed a rag and wet it with cold water before putting it on your forehead and rubbing your back.

You spit into the toilet and flushed it as Bradley put the cold rag on your neck, “How are you feeling.”

You looked at him with a raised brow and he apologized, “I feel fine, just nauseous.”

He nodded, “That’ll probably happen for a couple more weeks.”

You nodded and stared at him for a moment, it was now settling in.

You really were pregnant.

—————————————————————

Part 3.

Authors note: I’m so sorry I haven’t been active, it’s my senior year and I’m trying to get school stuff together. I might not post every single day but I’m liking this story and yall seem to like it too.

[seresinsbabe]

Drunk Words Are Sober Thoughts

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x f!reader

Synopsis: You're just trying to enjoy a quiet night at home when a less than sober pilot is dropped off at your doorstep. And he's spilling all his sober thoughts in drunk words.

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: Alcohol, swearing, fluff, drunk jake. Nothing else I can think of. A/N: This is not my first fic, but it is my first fic on here. If this one doesn't flop there will definitely be more! Otherwise I will just retreat into the reader shadows xD

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

“And those…god those eyes…” Hangman slurred slightly, a combination of his Texas upbringing and the whiskey in his system.

“Okay! We fucking get it Seresin!” Rooster groaned out in frustration. Frustration that Jake Seresin didn’t seem to notice in his drunken state even with Bradley’s use of his last name. It was supposed to have been guys' night out and to Jake’s defense it had started that way. Only the more liquor he consumed the more his thoughts were consumed by you. And thus had led to Rooster’s frustration when all Jake could talk about was you.

You were the only woman he’d ever gone after that had turned him down for reasons other than having a man. The only one that hadn’t fallen for his southern drawl and charming smile. Jake wasn’t used to that, but he also wasn’t used to the way it made him want you. Relationships had never been his forte. Sure, he’d had one or two, but mostly in high school and college. Nothing serious since he’d joined the navy. But you? The sweet middle school teacher with your perfect smile, curves in all the right places and sweet voice that could make the devil give up his sinful ways? All Jake Seresin could think about was making you his and only his.

Bradley knew from Phoenix that you were more into Jake than you were willing to let the man know. He knew you’d had your heart broken by one too many military men and that you were damned if you were going to let a silver tongued devil with pretty green eyes break it all over again. Normally Brad would have agreed, he would have supported you in your decision to keep Hangman at an arm's length. At first he had, then it became apparent that Hangman didn’t look at you the way he looked at all the other women. In all the years he’d known the Texan playboy he’d never seen him like this over someone. 

So by the first hour of Jake drunkenly babbling about how perfect you were he formulated a plan.

It was a typical Thursday night for you. Work had been long and you’d already decided that morning that tonight would be a self care night. Which for you included binge watching New Girl with a stuffed crust pizza and a bottle of wine.

You were giggling uncontrollably as you watched Nick and Schmidt argue over a towel when the first thunk came. It was loud and scared both you and your cat that was curled up in your lap. The time on your phone read 10:41, way too late for anyone to be coming over unannounced. You felt your heart rate increase and as another thunk sounded out you stood up, grabbing the baseball bat you kept stashed by your door for emergencies. Holding the bat in your right hand, up high and ready to swing, with your left you reached out and unlocked the door. Only when you opened it did you realize it wasn’t an intruder at all. 

“Jake?” The sandy haired pilot stood at your door and you could smell the whiskey on his breath from here. 

He grinned lazily at you and damn if it didn’t make you swoon just the littlest bit. Why was his drunk ass here, though? You knew it had been guys' night, but never before had any of the guys been dumped at your doorstep while drunk. 

 “Hi sweets,” he lurched forward, losing his stability against your door frame and you reached out, catching him. 

“Jesus! How did you get here?” Your eyes searched outside and you didn’t see his truck, but surely he hadn’t walked here. That would have been one hell of a walk from the Hard Deck to your little bungalow. 

“Cock-a- cock-a-doodle whooo,” you let out a soft giggle at his attempt to crow. You took that as he meant Rooster had been the one to declare you babysitter. You made a mental note to rip Rooster a new one come morning.

Jake stumbled a bit more and you grunted as you tried to keep the man up. He was much larger than you, taller by at least six inches and definitely carried more mass. “Okay, okay,” you huffed as you slung his arm around your shoulder. “Let’s get you into bed.” It was a struggle but eventually you got him to your guest bedroom. You helped him collapse on the bed and then left in search of water and ibuprofen. Lucky for Jake you still had some packets of pedialyte powder in your pantry from the last time Nix needed a GNO. 

When you got back to the room Jake had somehow managed to strip down to his boxers. You were thankful that his eyes were closed because had they not been he definitely would have caught you admiring him. It was like he’d been carved out of marble by Gods. This wasn’t the first time you’d seen him shirtless, but it was the first time you’d seen him in nothing but boxers in your house. 

“Sweets,” the Texan drawled out, calling for you. He’d always called you that, from the day he met you, it had never really had much of an affect on you before. Hearing it with that drunken tone of desperation made it hit differently. Your feet carried you over to him and before you had time to react he’d reached out, pulling you to him by the oversized t-shirt you had on. 

You let out a surprised squeak as he wrapped his arms around you. The bottle of pedialyte mixture and ibuprofen is still in your hands as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. A familiar heat pools in your cheek and tints them pink. “Jake, come on you’re drunk. You need to drink this and take some medicine.” This was probably the nicest you’d ever talked to Jake. Though every other conversation you’d had revolved around you rejecting him to protect your own heart from his philandering ways. 

Jake harrumphed when he felt you trying to pry yourself out of his arms and just tightened his grip on you. It would be a lie to tell yourself it didn’t feel nice, that you couldn’t get used to being held by him, but Jake wasn’t that kind of guy and you knew that. “Mm want you,” he murmured into your neck.

“Jake, I am not going to hook up with you,” you rolled your eyes so hard he could probably hear it. “Especially not when you’re drunk.” You tried to push yourself out of his arms again, but again his arms tightened around you.

“No sweets, wanna make you mine.” You froze, the pills and water bottle slipping out of your hand. “Wanna be with you, my girl.” He slurred softly into your neck. “So pretty…perfect…be a good mama to our babies.” If you were a cartoon you were sure your heart would burst out of your chest with as hard as it was beating right now. There was no way Jake Seresin was drunkenly telling you he wanted to make a family with you. This had to be just the liquor talking. You wanted to get away, to go have this mini panic attack by yourself, but every time you tried his hold on you just tightened. So you waited it out and once he was in a deep enough sleep you slipped out of his arms. 

With two fingers on each hand you rubbed your temples and paced in your living room. Your mind was spinning so fast that you just had to convince yourself that it was all the liquor. Jake Seresin didn’t date and he definitely didn’t marry women, least of all you. So far you've been able to keep yourself from falling for his charm by telling yourself that all you are to him is another conquest. Another notch on his long belt. What he’d just said had meant nothing and come the morning he’d be back to his despicable self. 

After chugging the rest of the wine in your glass you locked back up. Your self care night had effectively been ruined and it seemed like the best thing to do now was go to bed. Before you settled down in your bed you made sure to send Rooster a not so nice text. To which he just responded with a sequence of mocking emojis.

Jake was still asleep when you woke up the next morning. You just hoped he didn’t sleep the whole day away. It would be much harder to get what he said last night out of your head if he was in your house all day long. Maybe it would be best if you just left to avoid any and all awkward contact. You had some errands to run that day anyway.

“Sweets?” You winced as you heard his voice, thick with sleep in a way that had your stomach flipping. “Not that I’m upset I woke up at your place, but how did I get here?” Finally you turned from where you stood in front of the stove, bacon frying up in a pan. How the hell did he look this good hungover?

“Rooster dropped you off,” you hummed in a slightly irritated tone as you pushed water and pills over to him. “Not sure why I was the one chosen to take care of your drunk ass and listen to you admit fake feelings for me.” You mused, turning back towards the food cooking on the stove. 

You expected Jake to chuckle and make some comment about how his lines hadn’t worked on you yet again, but that one day they would. He was sober now and sober Jake was far different than drunk Jake. 

“Sweets,” there was a tone in his voice. A tone that you couldn’t quite place but it wasn’t his normal arrogant one. “What did I say to you last night?” You squeezed your eyes shut tightly. This was the last kind of conversation you wanted to have. It was one thing for you to decide in your own head that Jake wanted you for nothing more than your body, but it would be an entirely different thing for you to hear it out of his own mouth. It would solidify that you were just a conquest for him, that you were like every other woman he chased.

You shrugged, trying to continue acting like it was really no big deal. “Nothing I took to heart, just told me you wanted to make me your girl and that I’d make a good mama to our babies.” Saying the words out loud made your stomach fill with butterflies. “You were drunk though, I’m sure it was just the whiskey talking.”

A thick silence hung in the air as you plated the food for him. You’d made enough in case he woke up. With as nice as his physique was you weren’t even sure he ate greasy breakfast like this, but you know they always made you feel better after a night out. With as quiet as everything was right now you didn’t have much of an appetite. Again you had expected him to laugh it off but he didn’t. Instead he looked at you with these sweet eyes. Looking both like your brush off of his admittal had hurt him and made him realize he wasn’t trying hard enough. 

Jake swallowed hard and you watched his Adam’s apple bob. “It wasn’t the whiskey talking sweets.” Your hand froze mid air, a piece of perfectly cooked bacon between your fingers. 

“Jake you don’t date. You wham, bam, thank you ma’am.” You swallowed just as hard as he had a second ago.

“Those women weren’t you, Y/N.” He used your actual name and you felt your heart skip a beat. Jake never called you by your real name. Hell, he called you sweets so much you sometimes wondered if he had forgotten your actual name. In a few strides he’d moved around to the side of the kitchen island you were on. His hand came up and with his index finger he tilted your head up to look at him. “I don’t remember saying it to you last night, but just know I meant every word.” His tone was so sincere, how could you not believe him? But how could you at the same time?

You turned away from him, trying to settle your mind and your heart at the same time. There was no way this was happening. Thank god you had the day off work, because you would need it to recover from whatever the fuck was happening right now. 

“Hey, look at me sweets,” his hands landed on your hips, turning you to fully face him. “Tell me what’s going on in that pretty head of yours.” Resistance felt futile at this point, but you were still trying hard to resist. 

“Jake, you can’t be serious?” The aviator cocked an eyebrow at you, coaxing you to continue. “You could have your pick of available women out here and you want me?” 

He started to laugh and you felt sick to your stomach. You knew it was too good to be true, Jake didn’t want you in that way. The notion wasn’t as comforting as you thought it would have been and you wished he would stop laughing at the whole thing. 

Jake finally took notice of the pained look on your face and his laughter was cut short. One of his arms snaked around your waist and the other hand came up to brush a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “Sweets, you don’t see yourself properly and I promise if you give me a chance I will spend the rest of my life showing you just how fuckin’ special you are.” You searched his eyes, looking for any hint that this was all fake. Though, you hadn’t found one yet so you weren’t sure why you thought you’d find one now. 

On its own accord your head started to nod up and down. It took your brain a moment to catch up and by the time it did you knew you couldn’t take it back. Jake looked like it was Christmas morning and he got the bike he’d been begging for all year long. He looked so happy, there was no way you could take this away from him. 

“I’ll give you a chance, but Jake Seresin I swear the second you hurt me even a little it’s over.” You wouldn’t let another pretty boy military man break your heart again. Not after how bad the last one had been.

Jake’s grin only grew and he lifted you up, spinning you around in the kitchen. The action made you giggle and the pilot had to fight to keep himself from getting down on one knee.

“Don’t worry sweets, I got lots of plans for us.” He hummed, pressing a kiss to your forehead and you felt like you could melt right then and there.

[the-authoress-writes]

Up Where We Belong Part Two

Pete “Maverick” Mitchell x Writer!reader

Up Where We Belong Masterlist

Synopsis: When a writer experiencing horrible writer’s block goes to the Apple Valley Airshow for inspiration, she meets a certain older, daring naval aviator, leading to maybe a little more than just inspiration.

Warnings: Age gap (reader is in their late thirties to early forties), some to-be-expected cursing, depiction of the beginnings of a panic attack (it doesn’t become a full blown one).

But really, this is just fluff.

Author’s Note: I intended this to be a two part story, but as always, it didn’t turn out that way (my brain is like a mushroom farm at this point), and the third part of this (fingers crossed), is going to be the final part.

I’m choosing to look on the bright side and I’m telling myself I’m more than halfway done with this.

*sighs in frustrated writer*

This part is a little more MavDad than shippy, but it’s where this wanted to go, so…

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Again, I name a story after a song, from another movie about the Navy, funnily enough.

(Only three of my stories on my masterlist are not named after songs)

I can’t stop, apparently.

So here we go!

Pete “Maverick” Mitchell had been expecting a normal day when he met her.

Or, well, as normal as a day could get for him.

It was a bright and sunny weekend at the Apple Valley Airshow, where Mav had just flown an aerobatic sequence for the gathered crowds in Bianca, his beloved P-51, and Bradley had not taken much convincing to come out for a day with his dad and the chance to see planes, despite the fact that he was already around them Monday to Friday.

Most aviators were plane nerds after all, and airshows like these were heaven for aviators like him and Bradley.

“You okay back there, Baby Goose?” Mav asked through the comms, raising his voice slightly to be heard over the engine of the P-51.

“Yeah—yeah, I’m fine,” Bradley breathlessly replied from the backseat, his exhale turning into a weak chuckle. “You’re crazy, you know that, right, Dad?”

“Your father and uncles might have mentioned that a few times,” Mav grinned.

He gracefully looped the venerable Mustang around and brought her smoothly onto the runway, mindful of the P-51’s unstrengthened landing gear, gently flaring the aircraft so she caressed the tarmac, unlike the unflared, hard landing he instinctively would have done in any Navy aircraft.

After an uneventful taxi back to the flight line, he pushed the canopy back and climbed out of the cockpit, Bradley a second behind him.

“At least we didn’t have anyone shooting at us this time around,” Mav half-joked, patting his boy on the back, once he’d also jumped down from the wing.

“Thank Heaven for small mercies,” the younger man muttered.

“Come on, you can’t tell me you didn’t enjoy that, Brads.”

Bradley chewed the inside of his cheek, before amusement shone in his eyes, and he cracked a smile. “Okay, yeah, it was pretty cool.”

“She’s still got moves, huh?”

His son looked affectionately at the P-51. “Yeah, she does.

But it’s not the plane, it’s the pilot, isn’t it?”

“I’m willing to share when it’s this girl,” Mav grinned, patting her sun-warm silver fuselage.

After the two of them had stacked their parachutes and harnesses between the landing gear, Mav was busy putting the chocks on the wheels, when he heard a smooth female voice say, “Excuse me?”

“Yes?” Bradley replied.

“Is this the P-51 which flew a few minutes ago?

She is a P-51, right?”

“That’d be a yes to both questions, ma’am.”

A low, rich chuckle. “Are you the owner?”

Bradley scoffed amusedly. “Nah, that’ll be my dad.

Hey Dad, someone wants to talk to you!”

Mav ducked out from beneath the undercarriage and under a propeller, coming face to face with a very unexpected, but not unwelcome sight.

The first thing he noticed about the woman standing before him was her air of extreme competence, which immediately had him wanting to know more about her.

(He was decidedly ignoring the memory of Halo saying he had a competency kink after he’d told some stories from when he was in relationships at a Dagger Squad get together [non-explicit; the Daggers, especially Bradley, didn’t need to hear… intimate details of his life, after all].)

A quick appraisal had him estimating her to be older than Bradley, but younger than him.

She was beautiful, with lips glossed just right, shining, lush hair that he could already imagine running his hand through, a smile he could look at forever, and a figure that ticked all his proverbial boxes, visible even with her long, loose brown cardigan and cream button-down shirt over black jeans.

But what hit him like Mach 10 (and he would know) was the spark in her eyes, keen and intelligent, and they held a warmth and passion that called to him.

“Hi,” he began, extending his hand, ignoring the fact that he was stunned by this woman so he could attempt to be his usual self.

He’d been delighted to show her around Bianca, and he even went so far as to let her sit in the old girl.

Mav had not been expecting what she said about the book she was writing—her granduncle’s story hit home on practically every level possible.

He was absolutely honest with her when he said he wanted to help, but… he’d absolutely be lying if he said he didn’t give it with the hope that she’d call him in the first place.

It’d been years since he’d felt like this about someone, and he tried to stifle a smile as he recalled how they’d collided on Bianca’s wing, his quick reflexes preventing them from falling off the wing with a snapped-out right hand on the cockpit edge, his left instinctually protectively pressing her against him.

He’d never forget the way his heart raced as he realized their proximity, his battle-honed wits prompting him to swiftly move his hand before she could register his touch, though he kept his arm close enough to catch her if she began to slip off the trailing edge.

“What’s with that look, Dad?”

Bradley’s voice brought Mav back to the present, where he sat on his favorite chair in his hangar, Bianca’s flight log book in his right hand, pen in his left. “What look?”

Bradley shut the locker for the safety gear, the last thing on the P-51’s post-flight checklist, and strode over to the couch opposite. “You look sappy.”

“I’m just happy I had a great day flying in my girl, and with my Baby Goose, no less.” It was not a lie at all, but it wasn’t the whole truth either.

Any other person would have probably bought that excuse, but Bradley was one of the very few people he’d ever met in his life who could read him like a book in every situation, a skill unfortunately inherited from his father. “Uh-huh, sure, I think you’re just thinking about __,” his son incisively replied.

Mav absently bit his lip, “…That obvious, kid?”

“…It’s about as obvious as an F-14 in cloudless sky at 2,000 feet.”

“So, pretty damn obvious,” he squinted speculatively.

“Yeah.

You guys were like something out of a romcom, honestly.

Was that thing on the wing on purpose?” Bradley grinned.

“No, it wasn’t,” he smiled.

“Because you know, if you were any shorter, you might’ve ended up kissing her.”

Mav felt himself turn a little red, but was still amused despite himself. “Shut up.”

Heedless, Bradley continued, “You would have liked that, I’m sure.”

“You’re just as bad as your father,” he sighed.

His gosling’s grin turned sentimental. “Learned it from both of them.”

Bradley had openly called him “Dad” for years before, and again after their reconciliation, but statements like that never failed to warm his heart.

Helpless, Mav stood, and, going over to his son, stooped slightly to place a hand on his shoulder and a kiss at his temple. “Love you, Baby Goose.”

Before he could pull away, Bradley wrapped both arms tightly around him. “Love you too, Dad.

Mav was more than content to let the moment sit, the two of them still making up for almost twenty years of no hugs from the other.

Bradley eventually broke the silence with, “I’ll go heat up that pizza we got from the grocery last night, Dad, how about that?”

He frowned, pulling back, “I can do that, B,—”

“I’ll do it, Dad, you just sit and relax,” Bradley said, already walking towards the Airstream, and just as he was about to step inside the silver trailer, the kid fired off, “Think about your writer!”

Mav spluttered, looking incredulously at the Airstream’s door.

Bradley was really too much like Goose and him, he chuckled silently to himself.

The weekend’s end saw the two of them return to the duplex he and Bradley had bought together last year, sitting about fifteen minutes drive in the Bronco (about half that on the Ninja, at full Mav power) away from TOPGUN, where they were both posted as instructors; Mav himself permanently, Bradley, for a three-year period before his next deployment cycle.

Monday dawned, and he found himself glancing at the screen of his phone every time it dinged, so much so, that said son repeatedly glanced between him and the cellphone laid out on the Officer’s Mess Hall table over lunch.

“What?” Mav asked, confused at the younger man’s consterned expression.

“Who are you, and what have you done with my Dad?

You have not looked away from your phone since we sat down, Mav.

You used to have no idea what TikTok was, and now you look like Hangman after he posts a new photo on Insta, and I would know—God, he was insufferable that time in Sigonella.”

“…I’m guessing Insta is Instagraph?”

Bradley made a noise quite like his callsign. “l—you don’t even—Instagram, Mav, Instagram.

It’s like you’re expecting a call or so—” brown eyes excitedly widened as dots were abruptly connected, “—ohh shit; you gave her your number, didn’t you, your writer?”

Mav rolled his eyes, “She’s not my writer, Brads, but I… I did give her my number just in case she needed more help with—research.”

“Oh, research, sure, Mav; I bet you’d love to help her with her research,” the younger man chortled.

“You sound like your Uncle Slider.”

“Uh-huh—” Bradley brushed off, “we’re getting off topic here, did she say she’d call you or something?”

“No, she didn’t.

I told her to call if she needed me.” He wondered if, instead of being subtle, he should have just out and asked her to call him—or even just asked her out directly; the Maverick of over thirty years ago would have.

His son’s eyes comically widened. “Please, for the love of God, tell me you did not say it like that—that is as bad as you serenading that ex of yours with, of all the songs, “Abracadabra” by The Steve Miller Band.”

“Hey, that’s a good song!” Mav protested.

“It’s also creepy as hell—‘I wanna reach out and grab ya’?

Tell me you hear that?!”

Well, when the lyrics were said like that… “In hindsight, I hear it, no, I did not say it like that, and now who’s getting off topic, Roo?”

“Fine—so you were playing subtle, huh?” Bradley wrinkled his nose, tilting his head from side to side. “Well, we’ll just have to see if the subtle play works, because the Maverick charm was on max power, so you likely made an impression—”

“Thanks, kid?”

“—so I’d say… there’s a sixty-five percent chance she’ll call you,” was the determination.

Mav paused and raised an eyebrow. “Only sixty-five?”

“I’m taking into account the variable that she might not go for… people like you, you know.”

“…No.”

Mav could see both himself and Nick in Bradley’s shit-eating grin. “Old men.”

“An old man, huh?

Well, this is an old man who can still kick the asses of people less than half his age, and you too, Brads, six ways to Sunday, in the air or on the mats.”

A fork promptly got brandished daringly. “I almost had you when we did that demo on the death spiral two weeks ago, Dad, and if you hadn’t slipped my headlock on Wednesday, I’d have gotten you to tap out.”

Mav reached over and affectionately ruffled his son’s brown curls. “Almost only works with grenades, Baby Goose; now eat your shitty mashed potatoes.”

The week ticked by, and after every hop, he tried not to make it too obvious to Bradley, whose locker was right next to his in the Instructor’s Locker Room, that his phone was the first thing he checked.

By Wednesday evening, he was starting to lose what hope he had, and he ignored his son’s sad look as he surreptitiously looked at his phone.

On Thursday evening, Bradley slung an arm around his shoulder as they walked together to the parking lot. “I know I give you shit about being old, Dad, but you’ve still got more than enough charm and looks for women to be attracted to you.

I mean, you should have heard the stuff Phoe and Halo were saying about you during the detachment training—ugh, especially after Dogfight Football.

The thirst was real.”

At his confused look, Bradley continued, “Long story short, they said you were—bleh—hot.

I’m not repeating exactly what they said, even though I can, it’s all seared into my memory, unfortunately,” he finished, shuddering.

Mav laughed, “I’m sorry for the trauma, but, what, uh, brought this train of thought on, Baby Goose?”

He was pressed closer into a Hawaiian shirt-clad side. “I know you’re sad about not getting called by your writer.”

Knowing it was useless to deny it, he shook his head, “I won’t lie and say it doesn’t sting, because I really thought we had a connection, but it’s probably for the best, because I’m… well, you know.”

“No, I don’t,” his son adamantly stated. “Because you’re… kind and loving, with a heart about a billion sizes too big for his body, who gives so much of himself in literally everything—except maybe following orders; any woman would be happy with you.”

Mav reached and gave the vague vicinity of a shoulder a loving pat. “You give me too much credit.”

“No, Dad, you would make someone very happy—I want to see you happy,” Bradley squeezed a Nomex jacketed arm.

“I am happy, kiddo;” he cheerfully stated, “I can fly, I have the rest of the Flyboys, the Daggers, Bianca, and most importantly, I have you, my not-so little boy, who’s become a better man than I could have hoped.”

Bradley halted in his tracks, and tugged him into a hug with a laugh that could have been a sob. “Fuck, Dad, how do you just say shit like that?”

“Like what, that I’m so proud of you?” Mav beamed.

His son’s heatless “Shut up, will you, old man?” sounded suspiciously wobbly, but Mav chose not to remark on it, and hugged back before they continued walking after a moment.

“But back to my point,” the younger man pointed, “unless there’s something you’re not telling me about your relationship with Bianca, she doesn’t count as a woman in your life.

I know you have me, the Daggers, and the Flyboys, but it’s different from being in love and getting that love back.” Bradley suddenly snapped his fingers, “I know, I should start you a dating app profile!”

“Oh no, I’ve heard horror stories about dating apps, and I’m not desperate, Baby Goose.”

Bradley threw both hands up, “It’s not about desperation, Hangman has—okay, that’s not a good example—but you know, you need to put yourself out there more.

Meet someone.

Come on, Dad, please?”

The kid looked so hopeful, he couldn’t outright say no. “I’ll think about it.”

“Yes!

It’s not a no, I’ll take it.

I’ll look through the photos at the hangar tomorrow night—we gotta pick the right one—that can make or break things!

Maybe one of you in the dress whites or blues—or hey, ladies love the flight suit, and it’ll be even better if you’re in front of your F-18…”

At Bradley’s musing, Mav had a smile on his face all the way to his Kawasaki, and the whole way home, trailing in the Bronco’s wake.

After work early Friday evening, both men began the preparations for their weekly getaway to the hangar, packing their respective bags with whatever they deemed necessary for a two-day stay in the Mojave.

Mav was busying himself with checking his duffel before he hopped in the shower, when he heard clattering from his kitchen, and immediately, a dismayed “Damn it!” rang through the house.

“You okay, kiddo?” he called out.

“Yeah, I just—we’re out of Doritos!”

As amusing as it sounded, that did constitute a little bit of an emergency—the triangular chips were Bradley’s go-to snack, ever since he was a child, and he’d be bemoaning the lack of them the whole two days at the hangar if they really were out. “Did you check your kitchen?”

“I looked there first—we can’t leave without Doritos, Dad!”

A soft chuckle escaped him. “You still have time to go grab some if you want, I still have to take a shower, Brads,” he offered.

“Good idea, I’ll just go to the store and grab some, be right back!”

“Okay, drive safe!”

“Always!”

Mav waited to hear his front door shut before turning for his bathroom and starting the shower, tossing his shirt in the hamper on the way.

A few minutes later, he’d just begun to rinse off when he heard a faint noise from downstairs; his phone was ringing, he realized.

He initially paid it no mind—he’d been getting scam calls the last few days, which always ended up disappointing him—but then… it kept ringing.

And ringing.

And ringing.

And ringing.

Hope suddenly bloomed in his chest, and he hurried to get out of the shower.

He nearly faceplanted on his own bathroom floor in his haste, stumbling when his lunge for his towel missed, but he was able to keep himself upright and the second attempt had the fabric in his hand, then around his waist.

Mav dashed out the bathroom and down the stairs, tapping the green “accept call” button.

“Pete Mitchell,” he spoke into his phone, trying not to sound like he’d just run a marathon while his chest heaved.

A slight pause later, a hesitant “Hi,” came over the phone, and his heart leapt. “I don’t know if you remember me, we met at the Apple Valley Airshow—”

She had to be joking if she thought she was that easily forgettable. “__, right?

The writer,” he replied, pushing the dripping strands of his hair out of his face.

“Yeah, that’s me, you said I could call if I had any questions.”

“Uh-huh.

I’m guessing you have one,” he smiled.

The following invite to the hangar was twofold; he’d be able to help her without the hassle of dealing with emails or something like that, and he’d be able to gauge if she was actually interested in him.

He remembered the way she’d slightly frozen, when he stepped out from under Bianca, how she’d glanced at his hand when he’d extended it for a handshake.

But he’d been wrong about a great many things before, and he didn’t want to immediately assume she was interested, because everyone knew what the first three letters of assume were, and for all he knew, she really just needed help.

Regardless, he smiled while they bantered as easily as breathing; it was invigorating, and… maybe a little bit of a turn-on, if he was honest.

(Maybe Halo was right.)

Shortly after they said goodbye, Mav sent the address of the hangar with a “How does 3:30 sound to you?” to her number, and three beats after it registered delivered, a “That’s perfect—see you tomorrow 😊” message came in, which had him sigh like a teenager as he leaned against the counter for a moment, before he pushed off to get dressed.

By the time Bradley came back with four grocery bags full of Doritos, from two different groceries, Mav was already dressed in his usual t-shirt and jeans, ready to go. “You got enough Doritos there, Baby Goose?” he gawked at the sheer amount of chips.

“I’m restocking us, Dad, it’s not all for the weekend,” the younger man replied, emptying one grocery bag and a half into Mav’s snack cabinet. “I just need to put another bag and this half at mine, and the rest I’m taking.”

He bit down on his laughter and watched as his son dashed next door to stock his own snack cabinet, before returning in time to catch him staring at the “That’s perfect—see you tomorrow 😊” message on his phone.

“You’re looking sappy again,” Bradley squinted suspiciously at him. “It’s almost like you got a call from your writer.”

Mav tried to keep his face neutral, but as always, it was pointless with his gosling.

The kid’s eyes widened, “Holy shit, she did call you, didn’t she?!

Fuck, you still got it, Dad.”

He waved off, “There’s no guarantee she actually is interested in me like that, and she called me because she needs my help.”

“Oh, your help, of course,” Bradley grinned. “Well?

What’s the profile?”

Mav rolled his eyes. “She wrote a dogfight scene she can’t cut, and she wants to make sure the tactics are sound.

So I invited her to the hangar tomorrow so we don’t have to do any emails and stuff.”

The younger man whistled, impressed. “That was smooth as hell, Dad.

You have an idea of when she’s coming over?”

“1530ish.”

Bradley planted his hands on his hips with a sigh. “Well, that’s a good amount of time, but we’ll still have some work to do.”

“Work—what are you planning, Baby Goose?”

“We have to make the hangar a little neater than usual—make you seem like a responsible adult,” his son replied, as if it were the most obvious thing.

Mav burst into laughter while picking up his duffel. “If your father, your uncles, and nearly forty years in the Navy couldn’t do that, what makes you think spiffing up the hangar could?”

“Worth a shot, you never know—she might be fooled,” Bradley muttered, locking Mav’s front door behind them both.

“I heard that!”

When the afternoon set over the hangar the next day, now the neatest it’d been in a long time (admittedly, it wasn’t that bad, Mav just had a particular system, which didn’t much look like one in the first place), Bradley clapped his hands, “Now, I’m going to head into town, Dad.”

“What for?”

“Dad, your writer is coming in about ten minutes, and the last thing you need is me cramping your style, so I’m going to head into town, I’ll be back at around… let’s call it 2345–please don’t be naked when I come back—”

“Bradley!” Mav exclaimed, a little bit scandalized, though they were both hardly virginal.

“—and, and, prior notice of if I shouldn’t come back would be greatly appreciated.”

“Bradley!”

“What?

I’m just covering the bases.”

“There’s no bases to cover here, I’m just going to review her scene,” he replied.

“Annnd?” the younger man deadpanned.

“And then… we’ll see what happens.

But all I know is I’m not about to—whatever you’re thinking is going to happen.” Mav sighed, picking up a screwdriver that had fallen off the maintenance cart next to Bianca, and placed it back in the toolbox. “And I don’t… this probably isn’t going to go anywhere, because—I’m pushing sixty, kiddo, and really… I don’t think I have casual—anything—left in me anymore.”

Bradley slowly nodded, a proud look on his face. “Good for you, Dad.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm-hmm,” he replied, nodding, mustache quirking up. “I’m happy you know what you want.

But you gotta be more optimistic than this, because who knows, this could lead to your more-than casual something.” Bradley slapped him on the arm, “Come on, where’s the ‘I’m going anyway’ Maverick Mitchell who proved he could fly a suicide mission on a crazy profile, with fifteen seconds to spare?”

Mav scoffed self-deprecatingly, “Doing crazy pilot shit; that makes sense to me, Baby Goose, but… relationships—I’ve always FUBAR-ed them.

Oh God, I don’t actually know what I was thinking, giving her my number—this was a mistake,” he muttered, thoughts beginning to spiral as his breathing picked up.

Bradley grabbed both his arms, squeezing them to ground him. “Hey—hey, Dad, look at me—look at me.

Take a breath.

You did not make a mistake, you made a connection with someone, you offered to help them, and she took you up on the offer.

At the least, you help someone in need, and you come out the other side with a friend; if everything goes well, maybe you get more than friendship.

But like you said, you’re just checking the scene she’s having trouble with, like she asked.

Don’t put pressure on yourself—just see what happens.

You got this, Dad.”

“I got this,” Mav murmured, partly confirming his son’s statement, partly reassuring himself, and partly asking if he did, indeed “got” it.

“You got this; come here.” Bradley pulled him into a tight hug, one to which Mav clung, while he got ahold of himself.

When he pulled back from his son’s embrace and repeated “I got this,” a minute or so later, it was still slightly shaky, but held some of the classic Maverick confidence.

“That’s the spirit.” The younger man checked his watch, wincing. “I don’t want to cramp your style, and I’m cutting it close, but I don’t want to leave you if you’re going to spiral again.

You good, Dad?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “I’ll be okay.”

“You sure?” Bradley frowned.

“Yeah, I’ll just check on Bianca a little while I’m waiting.”

His son exhaled heavily. “You do that, alright?

Don’t get in your head—don’t think, just do, remember?”

“I remember,” Mav smirked.

“Okay.

I’m gonna go now.” Bradley cautiously backed out of the hangar, as if ready to pull him into another hug if he showed the slightest tell of another mental spiral. “Call me if I shouldn’t come back, and remember, 2345!

Please don’t be naked!!”

“Go!!” Mav chuckled, feeling mostly like himself again, if not slightly nervous.

“Love you!”

“Love you more, kiddo!”

Soon, the sound of the Bronco’s engine rumbled through the dry air before it faded, leaving the air still and silent except for the distant sounds of the Mojave.

Before his and Bradley’s reconciliation, he was used to the stillness and silence, a consequence of choosing to make the hangar his home a few years ago, upon his assignment as a test pilot at NAWS China Lake, despite the long commute; he’d never liked base housing, and avoided it like the plague.

He’d even found the stillness and quiet comforting in a sadistic way, thought it was maybe something he deserved in cynical moments.

But now, the hangar which Hondo had once referred to as his “Fortress of Solitude”, was a place of life, love, and joy, the old silence and stillness now the strange one.

Before he could think too much about his relationship with silence, he went to Bianca and started some busywork with her engine, allowing his mind to get lost—and more importantly, his body to relax—in the process.

He’d gotten so absorbed in his beloved plane’s maintenance that he almost missed the sound of an unfamiliar car pulling up to the hangar.

Immediately, his heart started racing again, but he’d accepted that for better or worse, this whole thing was going to play out as it would; if that involved him fucking something up, he just prayed he could fix it.

Moment of truth; the car door opened.

“Ghostrider, up and ready,” he muttered to himself.

“Hello?” she uncertainly called.

“In here,” he replied.

Mav swallowed thickly upon seeing her; he liked to think he had a decent memory, but his memory did no justice to her.

The desert afternoon light streaming in through the open hangar door haloed her in an otherworldly way, only making her even more beautiful to him, the breeze blowing her hair around and billowing her loose blouse.

His eyes were drawn to the little smile at the corner of her lips, and it was only because he’d been looking there, that he realized she was speaking.

“Hey, glad you could make it,” he brightly said, hoping that that wasn’t too out of left field from what she’d said, because he’d completely missed it.

Her smile widened, “Not going to miss it—for all I know, this is a one time opportunity.”

The replies that immediately came to mind sounded creepy, stupid, or worse, so he settled for, “Who said it was?”

She chuckled, lighting up her already sparkling gaze, biting her lip briefly before looking around the hangar, her eyes soon landing on Bianca. “Great place you’ve got here; must’ve been hard to get, though, with it being Navy land.”

“Not that hard when you’re got friends in high places.” Mav recalled the moment Ice and the Flyboys gave him the title to the hangar for his fortieth birthday, which they were celebrating along with his promotion to Commander.

She tilted her head slightly, and he realized that she probably heard the somber tone in his voice—remembering Ice was still hard, but it was getting better.

“Anyway, uh,” he clapped his hands, pushing forward, “you had a scene that needs checking?”

She blinked as if clearing her head, and raised the leather messenger bag on her shoulder. “I have my laptop right here.”

Mav gestured to his couch, and as they moved towards it, he prayed that he wouldn’t somehow make a fool of himself today.

To be continued…

Previous Part Next Part

Because the P-51 was an Air Force aircraft, her landing gear was not designed for hard, unflared Navy-style landings, which are flown in that manner for carrier operations.

However, even if naval aviators land on a full-length runway, carrier habits die hard, and if you watch planespotting streams, such as my favorite, L.A FLIGHTS, you can make reasonable guesses as to who was former Navy, as the landings will tend to have a shallower flare at landing.

Chocks

The Apple Valley Airshow takes place every year in the town of Apple Valley, located in San Bernardino, California.

(I considered setting this story at the annual Miramar Airshow, which takes place at MCAS (formerly NAS) Miramar, but I imagine that Mav would probably want to avoid going to MCAS Miramar for obvious reasons.)

The trailing edge of a wing is its back edge, the edge closer to the tail—its opposite is the leading edge, the edge closer to the nose.

The chair I write as Mav’s favorite chair is the one he sits down in in the opening scene of TG:M.

As Mav is a Maverick in most aspects of his life, I thought it was perfect for Mav to be left-handed—and as Tom himself is left-handed, it couldn’t get more perfect.

The F-14 is notable as being quite large as fighter jets go, and she is practically impossible to miss in the sky, once within visual range; and she is sometimes called the Flying Tennis Court, a nickname she shares with the McDonnell Douglas/Boeing F-15 Eagle.

Bradley and Mav living in what is essentially the same house, having bought a duplex together, is something I can see them doing after they reconcile, because to me, these two are basically orange cats with separation anxiety, and I feel like they would be the epitome of healthy codependency, if that’s possible.

Mav power is a play on words/reference to the engine throttle conditions of fighter jets; Max power is the maximum engine power with afterburner (wet power), and MIL (which stands for Military) power is the maximum engine power without afterburner (dry power)

Do not quote me on this, but as I understand it, in the Navy, you don’t deploy all the time.

There are years you are given a land-based assignment, like Bradley being assigned to TOPGUN, before you are put back on ship deployments for a similar amount of years.

TL;DR: Deployment cycles in the Navy have you rotating between ship-based assignments and land-based assignments every few years.

NAS Sigonella

“Abracadabra” by The Steve Miller Band

I chose this song because of this piece of art by @woodsywarbler, and “Abracadabra” is my favorite song by The Steve Miller Band, despite the really creepy lyrics.

A death spiral is this little bit of crazy pilot shit, as shown in TG:M. (Timestamp 7:34)

Nomex is the flame-resistant material which flight suits are made of, and it’s also what Mav’s green jacket is made of.

Doritos came out in 1964, plenty of time for Bradley, ‘80s baby that he is, to develop a yen for them.

(Flight) Profile: a graphical timeline of the operational characteristics, configurations, and speeds of an aircraft along a flight path in a specific phase of flight or maneuver.

FUBAR: Fucked Up Beyond All Recognition (or Repair, people argue which word the last letter is)

Fortress of Solitude

Ghostrider was Mav and Merlin’s operational callsign during the Layton Mission, and again, do not quote me on this, but you get to keep the operational callsigns you received during notable missions, a detail alluded to in the TG:M screenplay, so Mav uses it here to psych himself up.

Taglist

@ohtobemare

@callsign-skydancer

@permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88

@tadomikiku

@malindacath

@aviatorobsessed

@lynnevanss

@djs8891

If you’d like to join my taglist, just send me an ask!

[multifandomworldsposts]

also for kinkmas.... daddykink and spanking or choking with Bradleyyyy 😩😩😩

Day 5 of Kinkmas: Being Rooster’s Bad Girl

KINKMAS ❄️🪩🛷

pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x fem!reader

warning: daddykink, blowjobs, spanking, handcuffs, unprotected sex, riding

Y/N’s POV

I get my earrings on my ears and try to adjust my dress until I feel arms around my waist, I turn to see Bradley.

“Can you help me with my tie?” He asks holding his tie.

“Sure Bradley.” I say taking the tie out of his hand and tied his tie.

“Are you gonna behave yourself tonight princess?” He questions.

“Of course daddy.” I pout.

“Good girls get what they want, bad girls don’t.” He whispers in my ear with a deep voice that’ll make me weak.

“I’ll be a good girl baby.” I whisper in his ear.

He gives me a look, a look that says, I don’t believe you.

We go to a restaurant to see some of his friends from the navy, which the restaurant looks gorgeous. I want to tease the living shit out of Rooster, so I touch his leg with mine including touching his crotch. He does this to me ALL the time! So I think I’m gonna do some revenge basically.

I touch his leg with mine, I glare at him, he glares at me, he’s going to kill me in a few minutes. After a while, I slowly grab his crotch, he jumps, Phoenix looks at him in concern.

“Are you okay Rooster?” She questions.

“I’m fine.” He tries to cover his facial expression.

He looks at me with a face saying, you’re dead.

When we got home, I already know, I’m going to get punished.

“I knew you’d do that.” He’s angrily says.

I heavily breathe.

“You were a bad girl.” He rips my dress so my breasts can be exposed.

“You do that to me all the time!” I defend myself.

Bradley gives me the death stare and pushes me up against the nearest wall.

“You want to be punished?” He whispers in my ear in a deep voice.

I whimper.

“Brad-“ I get interrupted by Bradley.

“What’s my name sweetheart?” He whispers again.

“Daddy, I don’t want to get punished.” I say correctly.

“Well then, get down on your knees and suck me off princess.” He demands.

I get on my knees and unzips his pants along with his boxers to see his massive cock waiting for me. I begin to suck, his groans filling my ears, his hand gripping onto my hair, his cum getting into my mouth, and me whimpering, I want him to fuck me so hard so that I won’t be a bad girl ever again.

He lifts my head up to face him and makes me get up.

“You’re still a bad girl honey.” He says.

“What do you want me to do daddy, I rather have you fuck me until you cum inside me.” I pout.

He unzips my dress and sees I have nothing underneath.

“Let’s go to the bedroom, shall we?” He says picking me up and began to spank me.

I scream.

“Count for me baby.” He says still spanking me.

“6!”

“7!”

“8!”

“9!”

“10!”

He lays me down on our bed and undresses himself. I want to touch him, but fuck! I might lose it. He gets handcuffs and locks my hands on our bed backboard, I whimper again.

“I promise I’ll be good daddy.” I whimper.

“Then don’t behave like that again you hear me?” He says straddling my hips.

“I won’t.” I say.

He strokes himself to get cum on my cunt, his moans made me weak, I need him inside me.

“Do you think I don’t need my high heels on?” I asked.

“You’ll look sexy while I fuck the living shit out of you.” He says still pumping cum on my body.

God I wish I wasn’t in handcuffs.

“Daddy just fuck me!” I yell.

He smirks and starts to fuck me. I scream in pleasure, he keeps on going in and out, I wrap my legs around his waist and held him tight so he can be inside me. I scream again, he goes faster which the bed bangs on the wall.

He stops and releases me, I flip us over so I can be on top of him.

“What do you want to do to me daddy?” I hold his chest down.

“I wanna eat you out.” He says.

I make my way to make my cunt to be in his face and begins to eat me out, I moan, I can feel his tongue inside of me doing its job. I feel myself cumming, he licks all the cum and I gasp. I need to be a bad girl more often.

I sit on his waist and says, “You want me to ride you?” I say trying to make my breast look perky.

“You’ve been a good girl. Someone’s waiting for you.” He answers.

I sit on his cock and begin to ride him. He groans fill up the room, he’s so big, bigger than last time. I gasp again. I can feel him cum inside me. He grabs my hips and guides me to go faster, I make him sit up so he could help me. I wrap my legs around him and I continue to ride him once more. Bradley gives me hickeys, which made me moan in pleasure.

“Oh daddy.” I gasp.

“You want me to fuck you again?” He whispers in my ear.

“Just on the carpet next.” I say.

He makes me get off his cock and makes us go on our rug. He fucks me again and I scratch his back which made him go faster. I arch my back and I can feel him kissing my chest. He sucks one of my nipples and makes me sit up, we fuck again.

We lay down on the ground, heavy breathing. That was the best sex I ever had from him.

“I’ll never touch you like I did at the restaurant.” I say out of breath.

“Can we at least do this type of fuck session again?” He says looking at me.

“Bradley, we will but, I won’t touch you like that again.” I repeat myself.

“Just not in public.” He smirks.

[myfaveficrecs]

Bedtime Story

Pairing: Bradley x Reader

Word Count: 2, 568

Warnings: Smut, breeding kink, kids (this is whole heartedly a warning), Dad!Brad

AN: This was the one that won the poll, hope you enjoy!

Motherhood was unexpected but welcomed. You met the love of your life in high school. He was on the baseball team as a shortstop, and you were head of the yearbook committee which meant you took tons of pictures and got to spend a lot of time together. High school graduation came and went without a hitch but before college was supposed to start, you found yourself pregnant.

You were terrified of what that would mean for your future and if you would be doing it alone or not, knowing his aspiration for the Navy. He surprised you though by taking on all the responsibility a 20-year-old shouldn't have. He attended UVA for his political science degree, working nights and weekends as a security guard. He was fully involved from the second you told him, and he’s never regretted that decision.

He got an apartment for you both to live in and worked his ass off to keep you as comfortable as possible. You went to the local community college and got your degree to become an ultrasound tech while working part-time from home as a photographer. You fell more in love with him as the months went by, he made the process so much less scary than it could have been and became your rock.

On February 24 at 12:24 pm you gave birth to your first son, Andrew Nicholas Bradshaw. He was 7 pounds 3 ounces and 19.5 inches long, a head full of light brown hair and eyes that would forever remind you of his father. When you first got to bring Andy home, Bradley wouldn’t put him down for much of anything. He was every bit the doting father and when he turned 6 months old, Bradley proposed to you. You were married at the courthouse, just the two of you with your mom and dad in attendance.

When Andrew turned 3, you found out you were pregnant with baby number two. You finally had a savings account that you and Bradley put money into regularly and you owned your own three-bedroom home. Bradley had made it through Top Gun you were established in the hospital you worked at in town. Christopher James Bradshaw was born on September 17 at 3:04 am; he clocked in at 8 pounds 1 ounce, 20 inches long. He had your hair color and nose with Bradley’s lips and eyes.

Flash forward eight years and you both are still madly in love, and parents to two of the most rambunctious boys possible. Andrew was now 8 years old while Christopher has just turned 5. You loved your boys with all of your heart, but you never imagined saying some of the things that now come out of your mouth on a daily basis. You wondered if girls were any easier.

Walking into the living room to make sure both of the boys were doing their homework you were completely unsurprised by what you were witnessing. Andy had somehow managed to squish his brother into the couch cushions and was now sitting on him so he couldn’t climb out. All you could hear were your sons' muffled cries for help and Andy’s poor attempts to cover his laughter.

“Andrew Nicholas! Let your brother out from under the couch cushions. Now!” Andy jumped up quickly from the couch looking like the perfect example of a child caught with their hands inside the cookie jar. You quickly made your way over to the couch, prying the cushions off and pulling Chris out, checking him over for any injury while he clung to your scrub top as if his life depended on it, wiping his tears and nose off on your top as well.

“Andy you know better than to do that to your brother. You could really hurt him. Where did you learn to do that anyway?” You sat down on the coffee table, pulling Andy towards you by his shirt sleeve while still holding Chris to your chest. He wouldn’t look you in the eye, but when you prodded again for an answer, another voice cut into the conversation.

“Woah what’s going on here?” Bradley crouched down beside you, rubbing Chris’s back while looking between Andy and yourself for an answer. Knowing your son wouldn’t answer, you did it for him.

“Andy decided to stuff Chris into the couch and sit on him so he couldn’t get out. He was just about to tell me where he learned to do that from, isn’t that right Andy?”

“Come on, buddy. You know picking on your brother is wrong. You’re the big brother, you’re supposed to protect him, not hurt him.” Bradley told him with a soft but stern voice, forcing him to make eye contact.

“But you did it to Uncle Dean!” Andy finally spoke, his voice cracking from his temper flaring.

You quickly looked at Bradley and raised an eyebrow while you saw your husband blush, rub the back of his neck, and try to think of a response. At least he had the balls to look sheepish when his child called him out on his behavior.

“You’re right, I did. That doesn’t make it right though, buddy. Besides…Uncle Dean is much bigger than Chris and can fight back. He can’t do that yet. You need to be his protector, his friend. Understood?”

“Yes, sir. Sorry Chris.” Both of the boys hugged in forgiveness, all trace of tears long forgotten.

“Good boys. Now go wash up for dinner.” Both boys scurried quickly away to the upstairs bathroom. Bradley turned to you, pulling you to stand in front of him and gave you chaste kisses, holding you close to his body.

“You trapped my brother in the couch?”

“Kind of, what would fit anyway…I’m sorry, I didn’t know the boys were watching.”

“I’m surrounded by too much testosterone.” You breathed out through a laugh, giving Bradley a proper kiss hello after a long day at work. Before you could fully breathe in the scent of jet fuel, sweat, and aftershave, you heard the pounding footsteps of your boys on the stairs, ready to be fed.

“We’ll continue this later.” Bradley said with a wink, walking into the dining room to get the boys settled in their seats for dinner.

･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

After the boys were in bed for the night you were sitting in bed in your panties and tank top while Bradley was in the shower. Rubbing lotion into your legs and hands you recalled watching your husband tell the boys a bedtime story about a king and queen that had two princes named Andy and Chris, that had to fight off an evil queen from another realm to protect their mother that was pregnant with the first princess. The memory brought a goofy lovestruck smile to your face but also raised the question if he had meant what he was talking about.

You loved the life you had with your boys. You were just as in love with your husband as when you first met. You actually fall more in love with him every day. He is an amazing father, helping coach the boys little league baseball team on the weekends, helping with homework, or having them “help” him fix up things in the garage. He helps with dinner on nights that you are exhausted, helps you with the laundry, and he spoils you rotten with flowers and foot rubs constantly. You’re not sure what you ever did to deserve him, but you thank every higher power for sending him to you.

“What are you thinking about, my love?” Bradley’s raspy voice breaks through your inner thoughts, bringing you back to the present. Looking up you see your husband still damp from his shower with only a towel wrapped around his waist. His thick arms straining with his hands on his hips, nice and toned upper body damp and on display for your eyes only. He is a working man with the sexy dad bod. It’s never taken much to get your juices flowing whenever it came to him, and you were starting to feel the familiar tingling sensation in your lower belly.

“I was thinking about your bedtime story tonight. It was cute. Very creative, the boys really loved it.”

“Oh yeah? And what did the queen think of it?” Bradley asked, pulling his towel off, dropping it to the floor with a dull sound and climbing up the bed to hover over you.

“The queen is wondering if the king is trying to hint at another baby.” You said while giving a smirk of your own to answer his, running your hands up his arms and over his back. You could feel his semi hard length digging into your hip and lower stomach.

“Oh, baby, the king thinks a princess would be a great addition…just one more. Hopefully we get a princess this time around. We’re still young, can keep up with them.” He began to pepper kisses along your neck and collarbones. “Besides, you know I can’t get enough of you when you’re pregnant. It’s a shame I can’t keep you like that. So, your majesty, what’s the verdict?” He resumed peppering kisses all over your face and neck, avoiding your lips until you gave an answer.

“I say, let’s try for a princess.” You whispered in his ear, dragging your lips across the scars on his cheek and chin before reaching his own.

Bradley broke into a wide smile full of joy before planting his lips onto yours. Your mouths and tongues moved in a well-practiced rhythm, building in intensity as his hands slowly ghosted over your sides, pulling your tank top up as he went. Your lips only separated long enough for your tank top to come off before he was immediately kissing you again. His hands formed to your breasts, giving rough squeezes to the globes before his fingers circled, pinched, and pulled on your nipples. The sensations shot down to your core making you arch your back into him, keeping your sounds as quiet as possible to not disturb the little ears just down the hall.

You grasped onto the base of his cock, giving gentle tugs and pulls, causing pre-come to bead at the swollen tip. You smeared it over his cock, using it as lubricant for your hand. Just as you were gaining a little momentum, you heard a ripping sound and a tug on your hip and realized he just tore your panties from you. You were more turned on then you should be at the action but before you could think more about it, you felt one of his long and calloused fingers enter your slick opening at the perfect angle. After a few pumps in and out of you, you wanted more than his fingers were going to be able to do. You just needed him inside of you.

“Please Bradley…stop teasing.”

“I’ve got you, baby. I know what you need.”

Before you could even try to formulate a response he was coating the tip of his cock in your wetness, lodging himself at your opening but not moving forward just yet. He held your hips still with both of his hands, preventing you from moving him inside of you any further.

“Fast or slow, gorgeous…which one do you want?”

“God Roo…I just want your cock in me. Don’t you want to fill me up in every way possible, baby? Make me feel so good like only you can.”

You knew dirty talk was a big motivator for him and you were going to use it to your advantage. Watching the internal struggle play out over his face as he tries to hold back lets you know that it is working. Just as you open your mouth to continue your torture, he slams into you until your hips are flush together, pausing to let you adjust to his considerable thickness and length.

“Fuck, baby…so tight…so wet it’s practically pouring out of you.” He grunts quietly into your open mouth.

“You feel so good…so thick and hard…please fuck me.”

He held onto your hips, elevating them up into the air, your thighs thrown over his arms making sure you were completely open to him, allowing him to reach into the deepest places of your body. But, you were becoming impatient with your husbands teasing. You wanted it hard and fast, and you wanted it now. Before you could voice your wishes, he slowly pulled out of you and flipped you over onto your stomach, lifting your hips up to become level with his own, notching himself into place again.

“Grab a pillow sweetheart and hold on for the ride.”

You could hear the smirk in his voice and as soon as you buried your face into your pillow he slammed into you, causing your eyes to cross and your mouth to hang open in a silent moan. With a bruising grip on your hips, he set a punishing pace. The only sounds to be heard were both of your muffled moans and grunts, skin slapping against skin, and the headboard knocking against the wall. You wrapped both of your hands around the slats in the headboard to try and keep it from hitting the wall so as not to wake your sons.

“Fuck fuck fuck…I’m not gonna last, baby. Thinkin' about you all round and full, Jesus Christ.” Bradley harshly breathed out between thrusts, causing you to nod your head in agreement. You were almost there with the way he was rubbing against that sensitive rough patch on the front of your wall, you just needed a little extra push.

Just like always, your husband knew your body better than yourself, reaching around with his right hand to rub rough and tight circles into your clit while his other hand knotted itself into your hair. He pulled your hair back hard enough to arch your back, making everything feel as if sparks were exploding inside of your body. With a loud and drawn-out moan of his name your vision went white while fireworks exploded behind your eyes.

The constrictive movement of your walls caused his rhythm to falter and after three more sloppy thrusts, he spilled his seed as deep inside of you as he could; the warm and full feeling brought a second smaller orgasm to the surface before you both slumped down onto the bed.

“Holy shit…that was fucking hot.” He said against the back of your neck, rolling you both to your sides where he pulled you into his chest, rubbing the soft space underneath your belly button. The action caused you to smile before you yawned out a murmured agreement, both of you falling asleep in complete contentment thinking about the possibility of adding to your family.

･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Four months later you were returning home from your doctor’s appointment to share the news of a new arrival with your family. Walking into the living room you were confronted with an unfortunately familiar sight.

“Bradley Bradshaw! Let my brother out from under the couch cushions! You better hope the boys don’t do this to their little brother or sister.”

You watched Bradley jump up from the couch and freeze as soon as your words registered. Dean lumbered out from the couch as gracefully as a bull in a china shop before running and giving you a hug.

“We, we did it? We really, did it?” Bradley quietly asked, shock all over his face. Giving him a teary nod, you were embraced in a forceful hug from your husband.

Yeah, motherhood was totally worth it, even if your husband acted like a child himself once in a while.

･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Taglist: 

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@greatszu 

[haljordns]

big brother ! rooster one-shot

summary: rooster gets back from deployment and surprises you

wc: 1.3k

tags: dad!maverick, pops!iceman, big brother!rooster & gn!reader

to: @agerefandomrambles , your big brother bradley agenda has inspired me & I hope you enjoy :)

credits: x x x x x x

You hardly paid any attention to your dad when you heard him approach from below, you were perched up in your tree fort with one foot dangling down and you absolutely were not sulking. One of your untied laces blew in the wind and you kicked dejectedly at a nearby tree branch, when Maverick had climbed the ladder enough to reach he tugged at the loose lace to get your attention.

“Hey nugget,” He smiled. “Thought I’d find you here.”

“Go ‘way.” You mumbled, looking away.

Maverick wasn’t deterred in the slightest and you begrudgingly made room when he climbed the rest of the way into your tree fort. Normally it was cool having a navy pilot for a dad but at times like these, it was a little annoying – you doubted the typical 40-year-old parent was climbing up a rickety wooden ladder into a shoddy tree fort but here Mav was anyway.

“We’re making chicken and dumplings for dinner, won’t you join us?” Mav leaned into your shoulder peering at you like comfort food might persuade you down.

“‘M not hungry,” you replied. “And that's Brads favorite, we shouldn’t have it without him.”

Rooster was supposed to have come home two weeks ago. Two entire weeks and you’d been so patient but then his return had been pushed back and then delayed and now you had no clue when you’d see him again. You’d tried to call him today only to be met with a voicemail to which you’d let out an impressive string of curse words.

Ice had been less than impressed. You’d earned yourself an hour of quiet time with no TV, no cell phone, and no games. When you’d been sprung free you’d headed straight for your tree house. It wasn’t fair, you just missed your big brother was all.

“It’s comfort food, nugget,” Maverick insisted. “B wouldn’t want you to go on a hunger strike.”

He used one hand to brush some stray hair out of your eyes even though you were pointedly not meeting his gaze; though you were frustrated you supposed it was nice to have your dad around. You sighed and slumped into his side, letting his arm come around your shoulders easily.

“I miss him,” you mumbled and began to pick at a loose thread in the rip of your jeans.

Maverick was quiet for a moment as he ran a comforting hand up and down in your back. “I know, we all miss him, but he won’t be gone forever.”

“Feels like it,” you pouted.

Maverick huffed a small laugh at that and you pulled back to glare at him, this was not a laughing matter. Your dad put his hands up in a show of surrender and you eventually let up on your glowring. You were fully prepared to sit up in your treehouse all evening but eventually, your stomach rumbled disrupting the comfortable silence. Your dad was smiling fondly but didn’t laugh when a blush rose up in your cheeks.

“C’mon,” Maverick said as he began to maneuver himself back down the ladder. “Dinners almost ready.”

You moved to follow him but then paused. “You said… we’re making dinner…”

Maverick sighed and rolled his eyes. “Pops is making dinner.”

You grinned at that and nodded with a renewed vigor to get out of your tree and into the kitchen.

Though Maverick got down before you he waited for you at the bottom. When you met him there he offered his hand to you and even though you were often one to insist you were too old to hold your dad's hand you took it with a shy smile. Dad pulled you into his side and kissed the top of your head briefly before you got started towards the house.

“Love you kiddo.”

“Love you too Dad.”

The house was quiet save for the sounds of Ice moving around in the kitchen and when you got inside Maverick suggested you go clean up for dinner. You bounded up the stairs and made quick work of scrubbing your face and hands before darting back to the kitchen, following the smell of a Kazansky-Mitchell household special.

You were breathless by the time you got to your Pops side, leaning against the counter so you could peer up at him where he was tending to the food on the stove.

“First of all,” He started, turning the heat down. “Careful around the stove.”

You rolled your eyes but took a step back anyway to appease him.

“And no running in the house!” Maverick called from the living room, leaning over the back of the couch so he could point at you. “For such a tiny little thing you sound like a pack of wild bulls.”

You scrunched your nose and stuck your tongue out at him but he only mirrored you. Ice sighed but he was still smiling. “Alright children, settle down. Nugget why don’t you go set the table?”

“You’re putting me to work?” You gave him your biggest, saddest puppy dog eyes.

Ice looked unimpressed. “Consider it the price for your dinner.”

Before you could bound off Ice put a hand on the nape of your neck, looking down at you with thinly veiled concern. “You okay?”

You shrugged. “Just wish he was here, you know?”

Ice sighed and nodded before he leaned down to press a kiss to your hairline. “I know.”

The two of you stayed close for a moment before Ice nudged you off toward the dining room. “The tables not gonna set itself.”

You grinned at him leaning up to press a messy kiss to his cheek before getting plates and utensils ready. You set the table as fast as possible – you had a little game you played in your head trying to see if you could beat your time. So far the fastest you’d been able to set the table without breaking a plate was a minute and 15 seconds.

Maverick wandered into the kitchen right as you were setting down the last plate and you beamed at him showing off your work. Maverick nodded approvingly as ruffled a hand through your hair, you ducked out of the way just in time for Ice to enter the kitchen, setting dinner down in the middle of the table.

“Looks like you forgot a plate, kiddo,” Maverick commented as he rounded the table to help Ice who was bringing in a plate of rolls. “You’re losing your touch.”

“What do you mean?” You scoffed, affronted, as you did another plate count. “Three plates, three mouths!”

“You forget about me already?”

You whirled around so quickly you nearly bumped into the corner of the table, would have if Ice hadn’t caught you with a quick hand. You were staring with a mixture of awe and disbelief at where Bradley stood fighting a stupid smug smile in the dining room entryway.

“You grew a mustache!” was the first thing you could muster.

“You like it?” Rooster asked running his fingers over it and trying to look down at it even though it was attached to his face. Maverick snorted a laugh that he tried to cover with a cough.

“It looks stupid.” You settled on, crossing your arms. You were fighting your own smile but Rooster had been away for two extra weeks. You had to make him work for it.

“You look stupid,” He shot back.

The two of you stared each other down but eventually, your steely glowering dissolved into grins and you finally ran to him. He had put on more muscle than he’d had the last time and he picked you up easily holding you in a tight hug. “Hey there, monkey.”

He’d always called you that when you were younger because you had a habit of clinging and climbing him like a jungle gym. “Hi, butthead.”

Rooster laughed. “Forgot what a twerp you were.”

Rooster set you down gently but you took hold of his hand. “Better get you used to it.”

You knew that eventually, he’d have to go back. He’d be called away and you wouldn’t see him again for long months at a time, but now he was here and that was good enough for you.

“Oh and Pops made dinner, not Dad, so it’ll be really good!” You promised as you grinned up at your big brother.

“Hey!”

[girl-in-the-chairs-void]

Bradley’s Sex tape

Pairing; Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x fem!reader

Word count; 2.6k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Touch yourself.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Brad…”

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

“Fuck-ohmygod-“

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

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

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

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

The neighbours will definitely complain about this.

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

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

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

“Fuck- Brad, I’m-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wanna go again?”

[loveforaugust]

my sister’s wedding / j. seresin

pairing: jake seresin x reader, best friend!reader x bradley bradshaw, bradley bradshaw x oc

summary: while you love your sister’s new husband bradley, you most certainly do not love his mouth but good looking co worker

“I truly never thought I’d see me sister this happy until she met Bradley,” you were finishing off your maid of honor speech, laughing into the microphone. “They complete each other, if Sarah said she wanted to moon, Brad would do anything to get her the moon. Sarah traveled the world with him, seeing Japan, Florida, and sunny California. If anything proves true love, it’s these two. There’s no one I’d be happier to have as a brother, welcome to the family, Brad. And congratulations to you both!”

Bradley and Sarah gave you a hug, you laughed as Sarah had tears down her face. “Better take care of your wife, Bradshaw.” You teased, rubbing her back gently. You wandered over to the bar, swaying slightly as you waited in the long line.

“Beautiful speech up there,” the guy behind you spoke up. You smiled happily turning to meet his bright green eyes. He was taller than you wear, hair gelled into neat strokes. He was wearing a matching blue suit to your dress.

“Thanks! I’m Y/N, bride or groom?”

“Jake, I fly with Bradley.” He shook your hand. “What’re you drinking tonight, Y/N?”

“Strictly champagne for me! I’m on orders to make sure nobody gets plastered and ruins the wedding!”

“Well I’ll be on my best behavior. I’m a known wedding crasher.” He smirks as he orders a champagne for you.

“Ooh please share Lieutenant!” Your eyes lit up as you stared at him.

“I tend to leave a trail of broken hearts at these events. Especially military weddings.” Jake tipped the waiter and you walked towards the dance floor. You laughed at him as he explained one of his buddies weddings that he’d attended last month.

You learned all about his special name (he called it a call sign) and what had earned him that nickname. “In my defense, I’ve gotten better. That was like 10 years ago. I’ve been promoted since then too.”

“You’re something else, Jake.”

“Is that a good thing? Or should I be concerned?” He teased, leaning against the post beside you. You smiled up at him, a warm feeling covering your face.

“I’m still trying to decide myself!”

“Would a dance help you consider?” You laughed and grabbed his outstretched hand, setting down your drinks and allowing him to lead you out to the dance floor. A slow song played, one of the many Sarah and Brad had picked for their playlist.

“You know you’re not too bad of a dancer.”

“So my dancing skills are subpar, I’ve made you laugh like three times, and I’ve got a steady income, what else can a guy like me do to impress you?” He swayed you softly to the music, his hand resting on your waist gently.

“Ah the ultimate question. Real talk, Lieutenant, how often are you gone? Would you like a housewife or a spouse, and how many kids?” You quizzes him, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face.

To be honest, you hadn’t made your mind up about him yet. He was gorgeous and charming, and surprisingly nice but you almost needed to buy yourself more time to decide if you wanted him to break your heart or not.

“I go where the Navy calls, as of right now, we’re holding a permanent station out in Miramar. We haven’t been deployed for any missions besides the one but I believe that’s my new permanent base.” He raised his eye brows at you.

“That’s so convenient. I actually work in San Diego.” You informed him. He smiled at you.

“What do you do?”

“Pediatric doctor, I work in a hospital.”

“Impressive, how’d you decide to do that?”

“Helped me and Sarah through our childhood. She was sick a lot so we were in and out of hospitals. I saw what they did first hand and was just inspired. How about you? How do you wake up one day and just decide to fly a jet?”

“Well, Y/N, I’m a legacy. My dad did it, his dad before him did it and so on and so forth.” You nodded you head, watching him closely. The dimple in his cheek was showing up and he had the whitest teeth you’d ever seen.

“Staring awfully hard, darling, anything you’d like?” He teased, biting back a smirk. You rolled your eyes.

“You’re quite the charmer, Seresin.”

“Have I charmed you into a date yet?” You held up your fingers, signaling how close he was. “Ooh so close, do you need another compliment? Anymore questions I can answer?”

“One last thing: your thoughts on marriage.” You laughed lightly.

Jake looked over at Bradley and Sarah laughing and dancing with each other. “I think once you find your person, there’s nothing more romantic than making that kind of promise.” You smiled up at him, shaking your head.

“You just seem like the perfect man. Hiding any dangerous qualities under there? Or just the normal amount like the rest of us?”

“I’d say the normal amount.”

“Well you’ve persuaded me. Congratulations, are you free next Tuesday?”

“I’ll pick you up at 8.”

[jaidens]

The sand from your hair is blowin' in my eyes Blame it on the beach, grown men don't cry

pairing [s] : bradley bradshaw x reader

warning [s] : mentions of : crying, anxiety, death, drinking | angst with comfort!

a/n [s] : requests are open!

Bradley sits on the beach, but he feels a million miles away from everything.

You sit next to him as you tell him about work recently and how your coworker did something. Admittedly, he wasn't listening like he usually did, but he stares at the breaking waves and the wind that slips through his cloth Old Navy t-shirt and the shorts he brought to swim in.

Bradley grew up without a father figure after he was five years old. He only had the distinct memories of Goose, his Uncle Maverick, and his mother. He craved the feeling of being able to hug his dad one last time, not just staring at the picture of his Little League team and his father's dumb mustache and Ray-Ban Caravans that sit on his nose.

Bradley sits next to him with a dumb, blond bowl cut and a huge smile as he sits with Goose in his arms. He craves that feeling of being a kid, without worry. He's beside himself as the tears blur the sunset and ocean out of his view, striking like a broken mirror.

“Bradley..” A quiet voice is let through to his ears, as he covers his face with his hands and curls in on himself. “Hey, hey what's wrong?” He can't pull himself to look at you, the person he truly loves as you let your hand touch his arm softly.

Bradley found love, and was able to tell his mother as she laid sick that he was happy. After his father's death, he couldn't live for himself to love. Until Carole had slapped some sense into her son, telling him to find love and that everything will start to make sense. He heard all the stories growing up about Goose's romantic gestures of singing Great Balls of Fire; dedicated to his lovely wife.

When he found you, sitting at the bar sipping on a Sprite and eating one of Penny's famous dinner foods, he knew he was in love. He was freshly out of the Flight Academy, young and dumb when he met you. His mustache barely growing in and still wearing his college baseball shirts.

“Brad, don't ignore me. I know you can hear me.”

One thing about Bradley was his ignoring of problems. His therapist had tried to work him out of the habit, after the dangers of almost getting hurt in the plane after he disregarded Maverick’s commands. It also stood for emotionally ignoring. A year ago, Bradley would have never talked and would've let it out with anger and crying if he was confronted with a problem he wasn't sure how to solve.

“I—I–...” Bradley begins before that frog in his throat appears, biting on his tongue. The tears well up in his eyes, as he takes his hand and wipes them away. The feeling bubbles up inside of him like a Coke shaken with Mentos inside.

“It’s okay, I'm here.” You remind him softly, making sure to hold his hand to help him further in knowing you weren't leaving him alone.

“Hangman— today he mentioned Goose. Told everyone. Maverick didn't even do anything either, I almost fought him too. Then, I remembered Dad. He would've despised me if I used violence.”

“And– and, Maverick keeps bugging me about just fixing my relationship with him. I have no reason too! He pulled my papers!” Bradley stops when he starts practically sobbing, tears running down his face and hands shaking. The anger mixes into his sadness and fear of everything.

He feels embarrassed acting like this in front of you— a grown man crying in someone's arms about another grown man. Bradley feels the weight of his body falling off of him as you rub his back with your hand, and keep on hand raking in the curls of the back of his head.

“Bradley, whatever Hangman said, was unacceptable. Hopefully he apologizes because you do not deserve that at all.” You said. “Maverick loves you Bradley, he basically raised you. What he did as well was horrible, but from what I know about Mav, it was probably meant to happen.”

Bradley takes your words to heart, holding onto your hand now with an actual grip. His lip quivers while he feels your thumb trace over his knuckles. He wipes his eyes with the back of his hand and sniffles quietly. You smell like salt water and coconut as he lays in the curve of your neck and shoulder. “Thanks.” Bradley says a few minutes later.

Bradley stares at you, the soft smile you have and his big Ford Bronco t-shirt you have on. You look ethereal in the golden and pink hues that collect in the San Diego sky. He feels your connection that wraps your souls together. He's so in love with you, and he thanks whatever big guy is up there, that puts you and him together.

“Why?” You ask him back, looking down at him at where he lays.

“Because. You're always there for me. Always say the right things.” Bradley admits softly. Messing with the towel you have laid on the ground. “It’s why I love you so much.”

His words are anything but foreign to your ears. You smile at him and see him still finding his breath after the cry that he needed to get out of him. “I love you too. I will never stop loving you.”

He feels closer to everything, you as well as himself. Bradley hopes his mother can see him now, holding the person he loves in his arms.

[redd-byrd]

OC ART DUMP BE UPON YE

It’s literally all Brad (my OC) BUT I still think it’s good and also they’re hot so it’s ok

First is him as a wolf cuz I was stuck on werewolves for a solid 3 hours, then #3 is her as a teenager

The entire middle row is an apocalypse AU my friends and I made where she becomes the badass but massive asshole leader of a camp (read: cult /hj) that they run like the fuckin navy

And the last one is from this morning when I had the AMAZING idea of putting Brad and Vanessa together as like a delinquent/criminal x police officer ship dynamic and I am BRAINROTTING right now

[thewulf]

I Think I Love You || Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw

Summary: Bradley's longterm best friend (they know each other as long as they can think) moves to fighter town, now that her best friend Brad is permanently stationed there and she finished University... Read Rest Here

A/N: It was so fun to write Bradley! Will def write him more in the future. As always THANK YOU for the super fun requests. You the readers are everything to me. Thanks for making this hobby so enjoyable :)

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Y/N

Word Count: 5,800+

“Come on, answer the phone!” You couldn’t sit in place for more than a second after hearing the news. Each ring feeling like it was taking longer than the previous. Your eyes darted from the window to your phone as soon as you heard him pick up on the other side.

“Bradley!” Yelling immediately into the phone you didn’t dare give him a second to think, “Guess what!”

“Jesus Y/N. That was my ear drum you just ruptured.” He tried to sound irritated on the phone with you but was actually laughing softly instead, it was so like you. Chaotic in the best way.

“Aww, is Bradley having a bad day?” You cooed knowing just how badly it would irritate him. If there was one thing Bradley hated it was being babied.

“I shouldn’t have picked up the phone.” He groaned.

Smiling you sat down on your bed leaning against the bedframe, “Oh, but I’m so glad you did! Did you guess yet?”

He hummed trying to think of something, “You won a million dollars playing the lottery?”

“Sheesh, I wish!” The smile grew even further as you remembered just how much you loved talking to him. It’d been far too long since you’d lived close to Bradley. He moved off to college when he turned 18, you were 16. Ever since you could remember it was you and Bradley. He was always there. Your mom, Molly, was best friends with Carole. After Nick passed away your father ended up leaving your mom. Molly and Carol become even faster friends almost moving in together but deciding on raising you and Bradley in houses right down the street from one another.

The friendship was never forced only coming easy to the both of you. He was a few years older than you but always included you. He always went out of his way to make you feel included, wanted. It was and still is an extraordinary friendship between two terribly different people. Bradley was cool, calm, and always collected. He always knew what to say or what to do in almost any situation. You on the other hand were quite the opposite. Chaotic, unafraid and scatter brained. You always had to wonder why he put up with you.

You’d, of course, crushed hard on him as you were growing up. It hurt when he asked the prettiest blonde girl, Alexandra, to Homecoming and not you. Not that a senior would ever ask a lowly little sophomore such as yourself, but you dreamed. You just knew he’d never feel the same. You were sure he always looked at you like a little sister, never standing a chance.

Carole passed away when Bradley was only 15, absolutely destroying him in the process. But you were there. You stood, sat, and laid by him at his worst times never dropping a hand. You were just 13. He had no one. It shattered your heart as he broke down completely. He moved in with your mom and you not long after. His grandparents too far away. Carole had asked your mom to take care of him before she passed away, which she agreed to instantly.

Things were great for the next few years. Then he turned 18 and moved away. Off to college without you. Even though he’d been rejected by the Navy he knew he had to be close. He was going to try every year. He was determined to be a pilot like his dad.

Your mom remarried not long after Carole had passed away. She needed someone and Carole was that someone for so long. It was fine until it wasn’t. Your mom passed a few years after that. Right after your nineteenth birthday. You were going to college locally and saving some money by staying at home. It got bad after she passed. You were truly alone, not even a sliver of comfort to be provided by your stepfather. In fact, it was the opposite. It was mental at first. Insults and manipulation. Then it got physical. A slap here, a broken beer bottle to the face there requiring stitches and finally the broken bones landing you in the ER a little too often. Bradley hadn’t a clue what was going on. How would he? He was a hot shot pilot. You were just studying to be doctor.

You were finally able to move out when you had been accepted to medical school out of state. You’d figure it out. You always did. You’d survived three years in that hellhole. You could keep going. Completely and utterly alone.

But you did it. Not without Bradley’s help. He was the one constant in your life. The one person you knew you could call on a whim. If you needed help Bradley would be your sounding board. If you needed a voice of reason he’d be right, there. He had always loved you. He just wish you could see it.

“Alright, I give up, what is it?”

You gasped, “You hardly guessed!”

“Y/N!” He was used to your antics by now. It always ended in him laughing like he presently. You just knew his eyes were squinted together and that damn mustache you tried to get him to shave was turned right side up. As much as you made fun of him for it, it just worked for him. It made him Bradley.

“Fine. Okay. I matched!” You squealed, “With my first choice!”

“Which is?” He was on the edge of his toes. You’d refused to tell him, wanting to surprise him. Initially you wanted to surprise him by just showing up, but the excitement got to you, and you needed to tell him. “Oh, and congrats. I knew you would.” He sat down with the big smile on his face like you guessed. As annoyed as he tried to act, he loved talking to you. You were his first friend. His first best friend. His person he told everything to. He loved you. He didn’t know if he was in love with you though. He was at one time then life got in the way. But he was settling now, and you knew it.

He'd had girlfriends in the past but nothing serious. You had one boyfriend for a while, but nothing turned out from it. You’d always claimed medical school got in the way. Your friends didn’t seem to have a problem maintaining relationships through it though. Your stepfather liked to throw that out in between punches. If he wasn’t beating you physically, he’d sure go for it emotionally. That was the last time you saw him. You went back for your clothing, and he tried to stop you.

“Thanks Bradley. It might just be at the University of San Diego Medical Center. And it might just be for a surgical residency.”

His heart felt like it stopped beating that instant. You were coming here? He’d just taken a job as a Top Gun instructor last year. He was absolutely thrilled. His Y/N? Coming to live here, “You’re not fucking with me, right?” He breathed out, anxious.

“Never!” You were matching his grin from a thousand miles away, “I loved it when I visited last year and you’re out there so why not?”

“That’s the best news I’ve gotten all afternoon.” Bradley was very aware that he had a few sets of eyes cued in on his conversation. Sure, he was a little more animated when he talked to you, but they were looking at him like he was doing something crazy. Hangman was giving him a nod and knowing smirk. Natasha was looking between the two of them confused. Poor Bob was even more lost than Natasha. Bradley turned away trying to keep his conversation with you vaguely private. It was the end of the day, and they were all just about to leave base with their normally locked up phones when he saw your face pop up on his screen.

“It better be!” You could hardly contain your excitement as you stood from your spot on the bed pacing around your room, “I fly in on the 20th!”

“I’ll be there to pick you up.” Bradley stated so assuredly you weren’t sure if he already knew you were flying in or not.

“Oh, yeah?”

He smirked to himself, “’Course, gotta pick up my favorite girl.”

If only he could see the disgustingly bright blush that spread across your face in an instant. Oh, how that boy made your insides feel all types of ways. The butterflies wouldn’t stop as you tried to form a coherent sentence in your brain, “You spoil me, Bradley Bradshaw.”

He laughed to himself knowing Hangman had the laser eyes locked in on him. He’d mentioned you in passing a few times, but Jake knew there was something more the second Bradley’s face changed when he’d answered the phone. Jake was anything but dumb. He knew that look. The one where you were so enamored it didn’t seem to matter what the other person was talking about. A look everybody dreamed of having and receiving, “Hardly sweetness, just wait till you’re actually here.” You knew he was smirking from ear to ear. God you’d love to be with him, but man were you thankful you weren’t. You wouldn’t know how to compose yourself.

Immediately you found a seat on a chair attempting to process his words. Sweetness? That was a new one. One that quite literally just made you go weak at the knees, “I look forward to it.” You played along.

“I hate to cut this short. But I’ve got a group of annoyed pilots waiting on me. Can I call you later?” He would’ve loved to have kept going. Especially since you’d just dropped that news on his so casually on a Monday afternoon.

“Of course. I’ll talk to you later RooRoo.” You’d dropped the nickname you knew he secretly loved but hated other people knowing.

“You’ll be the death of me, ya know that?” He started walking back over to the group with that stupid grin on his face. He wasn’t doing a very good job at hiding it. He loved you. He knew that. He just didn’t know if he was in love. But he did know he could be. If he let himself.

“You’re right. This place is cool.” You and Bradley were standing at the bar waiting for your drink order to come on up.

“You know I always am.”

Rolling your eyes, you grabbed the bottle that the bartender set down in front of you, “Cocky as ever I see.”

“You call it cockiness. I call it confidence.” Following your actions, he grabbed the bottle taking a lengthy swig as you just shook your head at him.

“Good to see you haven’t changed too much.”

He shook his head, “Never. Now come on, got a few people for you to meet.” Placing his hand on your back he guided you towards the group of Naval pilots standing around the pool table. Thank God your brain was already panicking from the meeting new people to be too overtaken by his hand placement. Bradley had never been so forwardly flirty with you before. Sure, casual remarks and gestures were thrown around before but nothing to this extent. He seemed to love the dumb expression on your face when you tried to figure out his words each time he flirted with you.

“Look what cat dragged in.” The blonde one brought everybody’s attention to you and Bradley joining the group. You simply smiled up at him knowing he was talking about the much taller pilot behind you, “Not you sweetheart.” He made sure to wink at you knowing it’d piss Bradshaw off more than ever. And it did. You felt Bradley’s posture stiffen from behind you. Sending daggers right at Hangman.

“I assumed.” You nodded to him. Lucky for you there were only a few pilots hanging out at the Hard Deck tonight. Six of the twelve pilots that went on the mission got invited to stay and teach. Five accepted. Four were presently relaxing after a long week training to become the next generation of trainers, “I’m Y/N.” Introducing yourself to the pilots was intimidating. Each one more self-assured than the next.

“Oh, we know.” The blonde one grinned mischievously as he stepped forward, “You’re a hell of a lot prettier thank Rooster was letting onto.”

“Really Seresin? Anything that moves with you, I swear.” The only woman spoke up while shaking her head, “Ignore him. I’m Natasha. That’s Jake and Bob is right over there. Javy’s also here he’s just on a date tonight. He’s the best.” She pointed to the one that was throwing darts with another guy in uniform.

Jake shrugged eyeing Bradley. He knew what Jake was trying to do. Get a rise out of him. Ever since you got here a week ago Jake had been hounding him about you. Trying to get him to admit to any sort of feeling but coming up stunningly short in his goal. Bradley wouldn’t crack. He’d convinced himself you’d never feel the same way so he refused to allow himself to ever think it could happen. Never would he admit that to Jake who’d go blabbing off to you the next time he sees you.

The last week reaffirmed his feelings. They never went away they were just sidelined for a bit as the two of you navigated life apart for a bit. It scared him. The feelings that he had for you. Each time you smiled he swore it was the most beautiful thing. How you’d gotten even more gorgeous in the years he hadn’t seen you face to face was beyond him. He was speechless when he spotted you running towards him at the airport. And man, when he hugged you and got a whiff of you he felt everything he had before only tenfold. There you were. His person. Standing there in front of him. It felt too damn good to be true.

Natasha must’ve picked up on what was going on because she pulled you away, “Y/N, let me show you around. I’m sure Rooster did a terrible job.”

He smirked watching you get taken away from him so quickly. He should’ve known. They were all terribly curious of you after Jake blew up his spot. Still, he’d never admit it. He’d look like a little lovesick puppy accepting that fate. The worst thing that could happen is it gets back to you, and you don’t feel the same. He’d fuck a lifetime of friendship and love up. He couldn’t do that. Not when he finally had you back in his grasp after so long apart.

You shot him a nod as you followed Natasha out of the bar and onto the beach. His eyes followed your figure as you left. He had it bad for you.

“You love that girl.” Jake was now standing right next to him. He hadn’t heard Hangman walk over as he watched you. Too entranced with you.

“For the thousandth time this week…”

“Jesus Christ.” Jake sighed almost slamming his empty bottle on the high top, “Shut the fuck up would you. You love her. You know I have eyes and I can see through them. You haven’t taken yours off her.” Jake sat down knowing he had him. His eyes certainly betrayed him. He’d have to do something he really didn’t want to do. Approach another girl. As much as he craved to be around you he had to do this for your sake. Jake was going to end up saying something he regretted.

“Next girl that walks in. I’m getting her number.” Bradley sighed knowing it probably wasn’t the best course of action.

“That doesn’t mean shit. You can flirt with other women and still love her.” Hangman looked exasperated now, “You’re too fucking blind to see it but she looks at you the same way.” He hoped it meant something to Bradley now.

“Drop it.”

Jake put his hands up, “You’re being such a fucking idiot right now. I’ll stop but you’re going to hurt her.”

“I won’t.” Bradley spotted you walking back over with Phoenix. Because of course he did, he always seemed to notice when you walked into a room. It pained him not to stay. To talk to you. The two of you had so much more to catch up on. But he needed to. He had to put some space in between while his co-workers were sitting right there.

Against his better judgment he walked up to the first single looking girl he saw to strike up a conversation. You were too into the conversation with Natasha that you didn’t notice Bradley walking away. When you made it back over the frown the crossed your face was inevitable when you couldn’t find him. Yours eyes scanned but you couldn’t seem to find him. Maybe he was just in the restroom. It wasn’t like him to leave you with people you didn’t know.

“He’s being a dumbass right now.” Jake joined you and Natasha at the table.

“Hmm?” Your eyes flicked up to Jake instead of the restroom door he was surely coming out of soon.

“Your boyfriend.” Natasha smirked at the comment. She’d picked up on it too. As much as both of you tried to reject it, there was something there.

You laughed uneasily. God how you’d love him to be your boyfriend. You know he’d make the best one. Whatever lucky ass girl stole him would have her life changed, for the better.

“You love him.” It was more of a statement than a question. Your mouth bobbed open in retort, but you couldn’t say you didn’t. You loved him so much. Everything felt so easy with him. The two of you picking up right where you left off all those years ago. It certainly helped that you usually had some form of communication at least once throughout the day. If you didn’t talk on the phone it was a text. He loved it, so did you. He loved you. He knew it. Couldn’t admit it.

“I think… I do?” You looked surprised that you said it. You’d kept it in for so long it felt foreign coming off your tongue.

Jake’s smirk turned into a smile. He didn’t even have to grill you to get you to admit it, “Then do me a favor and don’t look at the bar.”

You turned immediately heart sinking seeing him chatting it up with a pretty blonde girl. Jake groaned seeing you spot him immediately. He too should’ve known you’d be like Bradley. Defiant. Not listening to him. It’d piss him off more, but you charmed him already. He was impressed. You were able to keep up. Seemed sweet. A catch in his eyes. He could see how Bradley could love you. It seemed easy. Jake didn’t think for a second if you weren’t Bradley’s he’d be trying.

“I told you not to look.”

Turning your head back to him you nodded, “You did.” Taking a long drink from your glass you knew this would be a long night. It was so out of character for him though. You had to wonder what was up with him.

“He’s being dumb. Thinks you don’t like him.” A confused expression crossed your features as you registered Jake’s admission. Bradley liked you? He couldn’t. Not after he’d pushed you away so obviously in the past.

You shook your head, “He doesn’t like me. Sees me like a sister.” Crossing your arms over your chest all you wanted to do was curl up in a ball and vanish away from here.

Jake scoffed, “Trust me sweetheart. He does not see you like a sister.”

“Yeah, well. Don’t get my hopes up. He’s sitting there talking to someone else. If he liked me he’d be up here.” You threw it back in his face.

“I told you he was being dumb. Just like you are, right now.”

Rolling your eyes, you finished off your beer, “You’re very too the point Jake.”

“Life’s short.”

Sure is. You got up to get another drink. Unbeknownst to you, you’d caught the attention of the other group of Naval pilots on the other side of the bar. Jake told you to stay away. He knew their intentions. They were the students, much younger and much more aggressive with it.

One was so forward he walked right on up to you as you waited for the bartender to get your order. You felt him on your side before you heard him speak, “Now what’s a pretty thing like you doing at this bar?”

You looked around playing dumb, “I’m here with friends.”

“Those guys?” He pointed up towards Jake, Natasha, and Bob.

You nodded, “Yep.” The guy was off to you. Giving you bad energy as he inched closer and closer to you. You tried to step away from him but unfortunately boxed yourself in.

“You can do better beautiful.” He smiled to himself thinking he was all that.

“Okay.” You grabbed your beer before ducking under his arms walking back towards the group quickly. You felt his eyes on you as you rushed away.

To your surprise you spotted Bradley back with the group away from the pretty girl, “Boy am I glad to see you guys.” You sighed in frustration as you took the seat next to Bradley who gave you a small smile. Acting weird you noted.

“You seemed to have been enjoying yourself.” Bradley simply stating making sure not to look at you.

Shaking your head quickly, “Not at all. Sleezy.”

“What’d he say?” Jake looked irritated. There was a reason he warned you. He knew exactly what went through those brains. He was in that position not too long ago. There weren’t many logical thoughts when your young, attractive and a pilot. They didn’t get told no very often.

“Nothing before I got out of there.”

“Atta girl.” Jake nodded.

Bradley shrugged, “You should go for it.”

Your head turned quickly at him before your heart sunk a little lower, “What?”

His heart broke a little seeing your confused expression. But on he went, his own worst enemy, “Yeah, you always complain about not having a boyfriend. Go for it. See what it’s like.”

Jakes eyebrows raised as he watched the tension rise between the two of you. What in the hell was Bradshaw doing? You too had a pained expression as your heart broke even further, “Oh, okay. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to complain.” Looking away you made eye contact with Jake who was shaking his head. You knew he wanted you to stay put. He already warned you about them and their obvious intentions. But what’d you have to lose? Bradley was already gone. There wasn’t much else for you now.

You shrugged taking Bradley’s advice.

“Y/N.” Jake tried to stop you, but you walked off leaving your drink. You didn’t catch the sadness that crossed on Bradley’s face as you were walking away. You were too busy trying not to blink back tears. But here you were. Going to go give your number to this dude. Putting out for him sounded horrendous but it just might be what your shattering heart needed. Or so your brain thought.

Something wasn’t right. Your head was feeling far too light. Your eyes started to dry out as you tried to focus on the pilot’s face across from yours. You were on the date Bradley recommended. It was going about as bad as you’d expect. Everything related back to sex with the man. You couldn’t even seem to remember his name. You were coming up with an escape plan but then your head started going fuzzy.

“I’m getting some air. I’ll be right back.” You abruptly stood from the table the two of you were seated out.

His smile didn’t seem so innocent anymore as he nodded to you. Maybe it was your head just messing with you? You walked and stumbled your way out of the restaurant feeling sets of eyes on you. You hadn’t hardly drunken a thing, this was no buzz. You were feeling drugged. You’d seen it time and time again, girls getting roofied going to the ER. You were about to be one of those girls.

You tried for Bradley, but it just kept ringing. Again, you pressed call, but it kept ringing and going to voicemail. You knew you didn’t have much time to figure this out. In a few moments the drugs would overtake and who knows what the creep will do to you. You shuttered as you decided on calling Jake. He’d given you his number after you gave yours out.

Jake answered immediately. When you didn’t respond he panicked, “Y/N? Hello?”

You wanted to speak but it was like your brain was disconnected from your mouth, “J…Jake.” Was all you could seem to manage. Your own thoughts started getting hazy as you saw the front door open and close revealing him. Fuck. Not much time now.

“Y/N? What’s going on?” He sounded desperate. You tried with all your might to talk but it wasn’t happening. You suddenly understood those poor, poor girls who were drugged like this. How fucking awful it was.

“Drugs.” You managed before he beelined it right from you.

“Drugs? Y/N what the fuck?” Was all you heard before the phone dropped out of your hand. It didn’t hang up the call though. Jake was hearing everything.

“Y/N, let’s go home.”

You think you shook your head, you couldn’t be so sure, “You’re hurting me.” You whined feeling his hands grab your wrists forcefully. That was going to bruise.

“Time to go, now.” He snapped knowing that they were still in a very public place, and you were gone. Lost in your own brain now.

“No, no.” You cried out before he pulled you too him and away from the phone. Jake was already on his way. You weren’t far. He was worried he wouldn’t make it in time. He was with Bradley and heard the whole thing. Bradley couldn’t move, paralyzed in fear hearing your soft plea’s through the phone. He did that to you. He was supposed to protect you. Not push you into the arms of a fucked-up frat boy.

Jake pulled him by the collar into the car. He’d pulled up the Find My app making sure he was heading to the right spot. Two minutes never felt so long as he flew past the speed limit in an instant. Bradley’s heart wouldn’t stop racing as he thought the worst. How could have done this to you? He’d let his stupid fucking ego get in the way and now you were hurt. Because of him.

“Rooster, say something.” Jake almost yelled at him. He was getting pissed. Bradley had gone nearly catatonic once Jake turned the speaker on. They were just supposed to be getting drinks at the bar not too far from the restaurant. Just in case. Maybe he shouldn’t have ignored your calls. Fuck. He knew he fucked up.

Jake pulled in just in the nick of time. Bradley didn’t know what came over him, but he blacked out. All he remembers is opening his eyes and seeing the pilot on the ground, knocked out cold and blood running out of his nose. Lucky for him the adrenaline was enough to make his hand feel fine. He knew it was going to hurt once it wore off.

“Damn.” Jake whistled seeing how quickly he took care of that problem, “Didn’t think you had it in you Rooster.” Jake kicked his side lightly to make sure he was out.

It didn’t take long before Bradley turned his attention towards you, “Y/N.” Placing his hands on your cheeks he turned your very limited attention towards him.

You smiled recognizing the man standing before you, “Oh, hi RooRoo. You’re so pretty.” You blurted out. You were too far gone to notice the brilliant shade of red Bradley wore on his cheeks to your compliment. Of course, you thought him as pretty. He was beautiful. The most handsome guy in your eyes. Nobody could compare. Nobody ever would.

“RooRoo?” Jake laughed at the nickname that so easily rolled off your tongue.

Bradley very quickly shot him a glare, “Not now, please. Later. We gotta get her to a hospital. I have no idea what he laced her dinner with.” He looked worried enough that Jake dropped the smile and walked back over to the car quickly pulling it up to where you were standing.

“Can you walk?”

“My feet are really heavy.” You giggled trying to pick them up to no avail. It’s like your brain was working but wouldn’t communicate the commands to anything you needed it to.

“I’m going to pick you up alright?” He waited for anything before he touched you. He didn’t want to do anything that’d freak you out. You’d already been through enough at his expense.

“You’re so pretty.” You went to touch his cheek but missed completely. You frowned but quickly burst into a fit of giggled forgetting his question entirely. He took that as confirmation enough. He quickly picked you up into his arms, bridal style. Before you could even comprehend what happened you were seated in the back seat next to Bradley.

“I’m so tired.” You closed your eyes leaning on him for support.

“Hey, can you keep them open for me?” Bradley asked. Once Jake heard the seat belt click he was off towards the ER. Definitely not how he envisioned his nor your night.

“No.” You yawned feeling the full effects take over. You felt his hand wrap around your head securing you in his side.

“I got you sweetness.”

“Fuck.” You groaned as your eyes adjusted to the bright hospital lights.

“There she is.” Jake perked up seeing your eyes open. He nudged a sleeping Bradley who shot over to you once he realized.

“Y/N. How are you?” He looked nervous. So incredibly nervous as he looked at you in an entirely new light. He was your next of kin. Your power of attorney. You’d made him your living decider should things go wrong. So, the doctor had no problem disclosing your file to him. He thought you were married after all.

To his horror he read through all the different times you were admitted back in your hometown. Almost every other month you were there with different degrees of injury. You were accident prone but never to that extent. He didn’t tell Jake. He couldn’t tell Jake. That was between you and him now. That’s it.

Jake took the silence as his que, “I’m going to go get some food. I’ll be back later.” He walked off leaving just you and Bradley. Your person.

“My head hurts like a bitch.” You groaned closing your eyes not too thrilled about the situation you were in, “What happened?”

“You were roofied.” He frowned, “Jake and I brought you in. They admitted you because your heart rate was so low. I’m so sorry Y/N.” Grabbing your hand but looking down Bradley squeezed it as gently as possible.

You sighed loving the innocent contact between the two of you, “What a dickhead.”

Bradley laughed. A sound you enjoyed so deeply. A sound you loved pulling right out of him. He was so fucking perfect to you. You just wished you had the courage to tell him before it was too late. He too was a catch. He wouldn’t be single for long if he didn’t want to be.

“What a dickhead.” He nodded in agreement, “I’m so sorry.” He apologized again.

“It’s okay. You saved me. My knight in shining armour.” You yawned still feeling the effects of the drugs that were wearing off. Your mouth was still clearly loosey goosey with it.

He laughed again, “How do you do that?”

“Do what? You asked curiously.

“Make everything so lighthearted. This is so serious and yet here I am laughing.”

“I don’t know. You make me feel safe I guess. I know you’d never judge me. You’d have my back though anything. It’s easy to be lighthearted with you.” You admitted. One of the bigger admissions you’d have to say. You loved flirting with him, but it usually never got deeper than that. Not until now.

“I read your files.” He couldn’t keep it in.

It took you a moment to fully understand what he meant, “Oh.” Was it. You didn’t have anything else to say. It was suddenly a bit mortifying realizing what had happened in your past. Like you were too weak to stop it.

“What happened after your mom died Y/N?” He noticed the dates. He wasn’t dumb.

“Well, good old Jerry decided to take it out on me.” You never thought you’d have to explain it to him. You never thought you’d be back in the hospital so soon. It never crossed your mind.

“Y/N… Why didn’t you tell me?” He scooted close to you on his chair. One hand squeezing one of yours and the other on your cheek.

You looked away willing the tears away. But they fell in rapid succession, “You couldn’t have done anything. You were living your life. I had to figure mine out.” It wasn’t a great excuse. But it was the truth. You didn’t want to burden him with it.

“Oh, my Y/N. I’m so sorry. I wish you told me.” He brushed the stream of tears away blinking back his own. He couldn’t imagine you so injured. Breaking bones on the regular. It wasn’t you. You were being abused and hurt. His girl. And he wasn’t there for you. That broke his heart.

“I’m sorry…” You looked down and away, “For not telling you. I didn’t know how.”

“It’s okay sweetness. No more secrets though, from here on out?”

You nodded smiling slightly at his seemingly new name for you, “No more secrets. I can do that.” You agreed looking right at him. God, he was so beautiful. Your Bradley. He was here for you if you let him. And you finally let him.

“I love you Y/N. I’m in love with you. I always have been.” He looked away from you. Horrified that it came out so quickly. He let Jake’s comments take over his head.

You nodded in realization, “I think I love you…. No, I know I love you. I love you too.” Groggily you grinned at him nodding in realization.

His head snapped up towards you, “Yeah?” He really couldn’t believe it. There wasn’t a scenario in his head where you said it back. Yet here you were, saying it right back to him. That smile on your face made him gleam.

“Oh yeah.”

“I love you.” He took your hand peppering kisses on the back sending shivers right on up it. The laughter that left your throat was one of the most freeing feelings. Not knowing how much that had weighted on you over the years.

“And I love you Bradley Bradshaw.”

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