#rooster soulmate!au

[gennyanydots]

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw Masterlist

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x F!Reader

One-Shots/Drabbles

I need a hero - You thought moving to California would be an exciting change of pace. Maybe it wasn’t.

A Normal Life - Do you want to spend a normal life with Rooster?

‘Cause you’re the only one who’s on my mind - Written for the “Love is in the air TGM playlist challenge” Bradley is perfect for you but there’s always a catch.

Connected One-Shots/Two Shots/Short Series

Spitfire universe masterlist - Connected stories between the Dagger Squad members and their significant others.

Preschool Family Day - Bradley is happy to be Jake’s son’s ‘Special Adult’ for family day at preschool. He gets to meet a Guinea pig named after him. He also gets to meet the prettiest teacher he’s ever seen, you. Spitfire Universe

Sorry about your small… - You’re not the nicest driver and you may have said the wrong thing to your favorite student’s uncle. Or maybe it was the right thing? Spitfire Universe

This is an official distress call, over - Unca Wooster is having such a great day, especially since his favorite nephew is having an extended sleepover at his house. His girlfriend is even calling him in the middle of the day which she hardly ever does! Such a great day…… oh no. Spitfire Universe

Bradley’s favorite day of the year- Veteran’s Day comes with all sorts of free things and Bradley is about that. Vaguely connected to 'Show Me the Way Home, Honey'

You’re on! - Part of “Show me the way home, honey” It’s your first Valentine’s Day with Bradley and you decide to have some fun with it.

How Dare You! - Bradley uses your pregnancy hormones to his advantage. Part of “Show me the way home honey” but can be read alone

Be My Escape - You left Texas and your asshole ex-boyfriend behind. Is there someone who can show you how you’re supposed to be treated? Immediately follows first story in series “All Hail the Heartbreaker”

Have Faith in Me - How did Rooster and Hangman’s rivalry even start? Follows after Be My Escape

I'm just now feelin feisty - 18+ Bradley is such a good boy but you? You’re a brat through and through. Your poor daddy. Hangster x F!reader

I wanna feel good tonight- 18+ Jake makes good on his promise to buy you the strap on you wanted. Follow up to I'm just now feelin feisty Hangster x F!reader

Series

Show me the way home, honey masterlist- 18+ Complete: The most annoying thing about having a soulmate is losing your stuff. You’re not necessarily a messy person. Things just get misplaced and then bam! they’re gone forever. Soulmate AU

But this is love I just can’t live without masterlist- 18+: You swore you were never coming home again. Not after what happened. What he did to you when you were kids. But you know you’d regret missing your own mother’s funeral if you didn’t show up. You just hope he doesn’t come even though it’s almost guaranteed he will. Has to support his grieving president and all. Biker!AU Kazansky!reader Connected to Biker!au Jake fic: Take me with you and connected to Biker!au Bob fic:

*Do not copy, repost, or translate my writing even with credit.

*Reblogs and replies make writers happy and more likely to write more.

* I write from my own perspective as a cis female so any ‘x reader’ will most likely have she/her pronouns unless stated otherwise.

[tgmsunmontue]

You found me - one-shot (complete)

13k Explicit Hangster AU - Soulmates first words are on your skin. Started for the Bingo. Jake is a singer and Bradley is the newly arrived member of his security detail. Tooth-rotting FLUFF and SMUT.

YOU FOUND ME

                Why can you not stay where we fucking tell you to?

                Jake hadn’t ever intended to make music his career. His sister definitely had, and he’d just been dragged along to drive her around, and because he was already there he’d often help out with either singing or playing one of the instruments. They’d both grown up surrounded by music, and now she’s his most fiercely-loyal supporter, but also never lets him forget that he’d never be where he is if it hadn’t been for her. He loves it most of the time, but the touring starts to drag, although meeting fans around the world and getting to travel is amazing. He just gets homesick sometimes.

                Also the fame is double-edged. He’s glad his words are where they are, a small cramped script right in the curve of his inner left thigh right beside his groin. Almost impossible for anyone to see or get a photo of, even when he’s done nude photo shoots. Of course, it had started the rumors that he’s mark-less, which is a rumor he’s okay with being out there. It stops the people trying to match with him at least, but it doesn’t stop the people who simply want to try and be with him because of the fame.

                However his words are pretty damned specific; he’s had a variation of them said to him a number of times over the years, which always makes him give a double take. Always false alarms though. Kind of embarrassing when he thinks about the potential meaning behind them, like he’s a child being scolded for wandering off. Like right now. The concert is over, he’s done the glad-handing with the fans that had the money to burn to buy VIP backstage passes, has had too many photos taken, his cheeks hurt from smiling the fake media smile too much. He’s tired and lonely and he just wants to sleep for days. Three more concerts to go and then he gets to go home.

                The crunch of gravel underfoot has him turning his head and he lets out a quiet sigh and closes his eyes. Caught again. Not by fans or anyone dangerous, but definitely someone who isn’t pleased to find him out here alone. It’s the new guy. He can’t remember his name, other than it starting with a b, because he’d automatically gone with the alliteration with bodyguard. So B-something. He should really try and pay more attention, but the guy had been brought in late, in the last Australasian stretch of the tour because Javy’s dad had had a heart-attack and had needed to get home ASAP. So this guy had been brought in and the introductions had happened during sound testing a couple of days ago and Jake doesn’t think the guy likes him very much, doesn’t think they’ve exchanged a single word to each other.

                However Jake thinks B-something might feel about him, he’s sure he’s a professional. He certainly looks the part, fucking built, taller than Jake by only an inch, but broader, and fridge-like comes to mind, his pants clearly straining against the thick muscles in his thighs as he stalks toward Jake, clearly angry and he sighs internally, an apology already forming on his lips, because he doesn’t like to make other’s jobs more difficult. He doesn’t intentionally wander off, but sometimes he just really misses the peace and quiet of wide-open spaces.

                “Ugh, yeah, you found me,” Jake mutters, the words slipping out and he’s aware it makes him sound like a petulant spoiled kid but he can work on his image later. Maybe when he’s not surviving on adrenaline and caffeine, dead on his feet. He is ready for this tour to be over.

                “Why can you not stay where we fucking tell you to?”

                “I’m sorry, wait, shit, what did you say?”

                B-something is looking at him in shock, eyes and mouth all wide circles and okay, that makes all the tiredness he’s been feeling turn to fizzing energy in his veins. Holy shit. He just found his soul mate.

                “You… you said my words.”

                “And you said mine. If that wasn’t already obvious.”

                “You really need to not wander off, I can’t keep you safe if I don’t know where you are,” B-something says, his tone softer, gentler and Jake laughs silently; privately thinks his days wandering off are now gone, not with a soul mate to get to know. However he’s going to have to admit he doesn’t remember his name. Ugh. What a way to seem even more like an asshole.

                “I’m sorry, I know we were introduced only a couple of days ago, but I don’t remember your name…”

                “Bradley Bradshaw.”

                “Bs… lots of bs, that did stick in my head. The alliteration.”

                “Some of my friends call me Bradbrad.”

                “Well, I’m Jake. Uh. Call me Jake.”

                “Not Mr Seresin?”

                “No!” Jake responds instantly, vehement.

                “So, what do you think we’re working with here?” Bradley asks, and it’s going to take Jake a while to get used to using his name. His mind is offering up potentially ridiculous lines Bradley Bradshaw the bodyguard built of beautiful bricks I want to lick. God he definitely needs some sleep. And proper food. Not necessarily in that order.

                “Huh?”

                “What kind of bond do you think we’re working with?”

                “Oh. Uh,” he swallows roughly, because he’s an out and proud not-straight man, and soulmates generally get a free pass anyway. Except… “Hopefully not platonic,” Jake provides, and the slow smile Bradley gives him makes his skin prickle and he’s suddenly feeling a lot more awake.

                “Okay. Well I guess we’re going to go one a few dates and see where they take us…”

                “What do you mean?”

                “Well, it’s a potential. Not a guarantee right? Only fifty percent chance it’s romantic.”

                “You want to date me?”

                “How else am I going to get to know you?” Jake opens and closes his mouth, because he has a good point, instead just nods his head. “Come on. Let me get you back to the hotel.”

…            …            …

                Bradley hadn’t known what to expect when he’d been asked to urgently take over the security detail for Jake Seresin. Finding his soulmate had not been anywhere near the list of things to expect. The very tired man who is half-walking, half-stumbling as if drunk is somehow meant to complete him in ways he doesn’t know yet, and okay, Bradley’s open to the possibilities. First though, the guy needs sleep. And maybe food.

                He sends a quick message through to the other two, Rueben and Lee, lets them know he’s found him and taking him back to the hotel room. That some room service wouldn’t go amiss, although he fully expects Seresin’s, no, Jake’s PR manager Natasha to be there waiting for them, no doubt ready to rip him a new one. That woman is terrifying. He pushes open the door and sure enough she’s there, pausing in her pacing and she turns to them.

                “Jesus Jake! What were you –”

                “He’s hungry and tired and he won’t go wandering off again. At least not without me.”

                “Well great, that’s another six days. Perfect,” Natasha says, her eyes rolling so hard Bradley’s surprised they stay in her head.

                “It’ll be the last time. Promise…” Jake says, but he’s swaying and Bradley pushes him down into a chair at a table, leaves a hand on his shoulder where he just rubs gently.

                “I’ve heard that before,” Natasha says.

                “I mean it this time Nat,” Jake mumbles and Bradley glances at his. Probably another ten to fifteen before food gets here, and he needs to keep Jake awake enough to get food into him.

                “You think you can stay awake long enough to have a quick shower?” Bradley asks, crouching beside him.

                Natasha is frowning at them and Bradley looks to her, eyebrows raised. He’s going to have to tell everyone else in the team that he and Jake are soulmates, but he also thinks it can maybe wait a couple of days. At least until after he and Jake have had a proper conversation, which necessitates Jake being well-rested and fed. And the sweat from tonight’s show rinsed from his body. He can take care of his most basic needs at least. It’s not what he signed up for when he took on the job to act as bodyguard, but it’s definitely something he’d do for a close friend, and that’s something Jake Seresin will become to him, at a bare minimum.

                Jake is nodding and mumbling under his breath that he can manage a shower, and Bradley holds back the offer to help, or hold him up. He’s not one to rush into things when people aren’t his soulmate, he’s not about to do anything rash with the man who is. He does start the shower and get everything gathered for Jake to change into, tells him he’s leaving the door cracked and that he’s only giving him ten minutes before he sends Natasha in to get him out.

                “That seems a little over and above the job requirements,” Natasha says, expression shrewd and Bradley just shakes his head, refusing to say anything. If necessary he’ll send Rueben in, doesn’t want to encroach on Jake’s space and mind any more than he already is with their soulmate revelation.

                “He really needs a decent night’s sleep and a break.”

                “Well, we have a ten o’clock flight to Wellington tomorrow morning. He has his third to last show there. He’s got three radio segments to do, but they’re short. He can do something touristy and have a break in the afternoon.”

                “He’ll probably need to nap in the afternoon. He’s dead on his feet.”

                “He has the following day and night off, then the last two concerts in Auckland.”

                Bradley is better at hiding his eyeroll than Natasha is, sounds like a whole day off Is a luxury. Screw that. Not much he can do about it now though, he’s not been in charge of this itinerary at all. He might get input in future ones though.

                “Where is he spending his day off?”

                “Well, he originally wanted to go mountain biking and zip lining, but Javy vetoed it.”

                Bradley snorts, because he’s well aware of what Javy thinks of heights. The mountain biking is maybe a little risky while on tour, but he’ll look through it. With Logan and Rueben onboard he’s certain they can manage to figure something out. He hears the shower shut off and glances at his watch again. Eight minutes. There’s a knock and Bradley goes to go and open the door; Rueben there with a bag of items but also a covered tray and he can smell something warm and cheesy and with garlic and his own mouth is watering and he meets Rueben’s eyes.

                “Perks of being the star I guess…” Rueben says, grinning and Bradley gives him a what are you going to do look back, because this is their job right now. His job is to keep Jake safe and secure. It’s not to ensure he has fun on his day-off, but…

                “You’re good with zip-lining and mountain biking, right?”

                Rueben’s eyes light up, and that’s his answer right there.

                “Yeah man! Javy vetoed it…”

                “Javy’s not here anymore. I am. We’ll discuss and make plans tomorrow.”

                “Cool.”

                He takes the bag and tray, snorts in amusement at Rueben’s little salute and waits for the door to click closed and lock to engage before turning back to see Jake standing there, towel wrapped around his hips and he’s glad Jake has already said that he doesn’t think it’s a platonic bond, makes him feel a little less guilty about where his mind is going.

                “I left you clothes to change into,” Bradley states and Jake smirks at him, clearly still tired, expression soft but clearly unapologetic.

                “Did you? I must have missed them.”

                “Go and get dressed Jake.”

                “You spoil all my fun…”

                Bradley rolls his eyes but Jake goes back into the bathroom to get dressed. Natasha is looking thunderous though and Bradley is pretty sure she’s about to metaphorically put his balls in a vice.

                “Do not fuck the talent Bradshaw,” she hisses, stepping close and lowering her voice.

                “I don’t intend to,” Bradley states, just as quietly, keeping an eye on the bathroom door. He’s not lying either. He’s here for work, and yes, Jake is his soul mate, but once the tour is over and Jake is back on American soil his usual security team will take over and Bradley can just… do whatever he wants. Won’t have to listen to Natasha Trace for a start. He and Jake can hopefully get to know each other properly, slowly. As soulmates, not as security detail and the talent to be protected. Not that Bradley’s not going to start treating Jake right from now, but Trace doesn’t need to know that until after he’s spoken with Jake. Knows how he wants to have this play out.

                Jake comes back on of the bathroom again, this time wearing the loose sweatpants and t-shirt Bradley had pulled from his bag, not really knowing if it was what Jake might want or not, but figured he could change into something else easily enough if he was already dressed.

                “It smells good.”

                “Yeah it does. Come on Jake, sit down so you can eat something…” Bradley says, and Jake settles back at the table, looking a little more alert now that he’s had a shower.

                “Mr Seresin,” Trace corrects and Bradley rolls his eyes, although he also makes sure she can’t see him.

                “I told him to call me Jake, Nat. Would be a bit weird otherwise.”

                “He arrived two days ago.”

                “And he’s my soulmate. So you can stop worrying. I’m tired. Not deaf,” he says, and he’s cutting the potato dish and forking it into his mouth. Bradley blinks. Okay then. Telling her now when Jake can barely walk in a straight line is apparently the timing they’re going with.

                “Are… Is he serious? Are you two…?”

                “Yeah. Bit of a surprise when I found him. Wasn’t exactly expecting it.”

                “What are your words?”

                “This isn’t a PR story Nat…”

                “No, of course not. Just… I’m happy for you Jake. Truly.”

                “My words are Ugh, yeah, you found me.”

                “Oh… that… did you not talk to each other when I introduced you to each other?”

                “Nope,” they reply at the same time and Bradley shares a grin with Jake, because he’s glad they didn’t, because otherwise their words would be very different. What they have is unique and there isn’t any room for doubt.

                “So, we’ve found the person who asks you why you can’t do what we ask. And it’s his job to make sure you do. I hope you appreciate the poetry of that Jake.”

                “Yeah yeah, I will. When I’m not about to fall asleep in my food…”

                “Okay. I’ll leave you both to it. I guess what I said earlier doesn’t exactly apply anymore.”

                Bradley shakes his head.

                “He’s tired and hungry and we have our whole lives ahead of us.”

                The smile Trace gives him is soft and Bradley is pretty sure he might be blushing and when he glances over at Jake he sees a similar look on his face, like Bradley is being sweet somehow simply be ensuring Jake’s basic needs are met. It does make him wonder about the kind of people Jake’s been with before if the bar is legitimately that low. Trace leaves, closing the door behind her and when he looks back Jake is definitely struggling to keep his eyes open, and he pulls him to his feet and starts shuffling him gently toward the bed. He pulls the blankets back and Jake pretty much falls into it. He tucks the blankets in around him, effectively making a cocoon around him, but Jake wiggles, arm reaching out and hand making a grabby motion.

                “What? What do you need?”

                “Join me?” Jake asks, but his voice is already slurring with sleep and Bradley can’t believe how fond of him he already feels.

                “You’re dead on your feet. Go to sleep.”

                “Oh. Uh… do you, could you…”

                “Go to sleep Jake. I’m not going anywhere.”

                He dims all the lights and heads back to the living room part of the suite, realizes that he’s probably going to get used to this type of luxury with Jake as his soulmate. That will take some getting used to. He tidies up the dishes and takes it to the door, opens it to find Rueben standing there, waiting. With Jake having told Trace he’s going to tell Rueben.

                “Hey man, you can head back to your room. I’m going to stay with him.”

                The look Rueben gives him is incredulous.

                “What the fuck man? I just lost twenty bucks. Natasha said you were going to do that.”

                “She played you, and had insider knowledge. Turns out Jake Seresin and I are soul mates. I’ve got him for the rest of the night.”

                “Holy shit… that’s cool. And you’ve got him for the rest of your life, tonight is a drop in the bucket.”

                “Yeah, I guess it is. I’m going to try and make sure he gets a fun day off after the show in Wellington. Can you help with that?”

                “Hell yeah. Just because Javy wasn’t keen doesn’t mean I was going to pass it up. I was ditching you and Logan for the day, but I can totally bring everything back together.”

                “Great. Thanks man.”

…            …            …

                He wakes up slowly, which is unusual by itself, usually he has an alarm or Natasha is shaking him awake and telling him he has to get up, while pushing a breakfast smoothie into his hands. None of that is happening this morning, instead he’s firmly wrapped in blankets and there is an arm around him, he can feel now the weight of Bradley’s body beside him, but he’s clearly slept on top of the blankets because he’s a fucking gentleman or something. He wiggles and shifts, wants to see his face and the arm around him loosens.

                “Morning…”

                “Morning.”

                “You stayed.”

                “Said I would,” Bradley says, and his smile is slow, his eyes searching Jake’s face like he’s trying to take in every little detail. “You feel better for the sleep?”

                “Yeah, so much better.”

                “Mmm. Good. Next time maybe just go straight to bed rather than running off hmm?”

                “You going to stick around and make sure?”

                “If that’s what it takes…”

                “Yeah? Just going to travel with me from now on?”

                “Think it’ll make everyone’s lives easier if I do.”

                Jake grins, huffs out a quiet laugh, but he’s not wrong.

…            …            …

                “So, can I know where my words are?” Bradley asks, because he has to admit he’s curious. Jake is his soulmate after all.

                “You want to see them?”

                “I don’t know… you’re looking very eager suddenly. Wait. Are they on your dick?”

                Jake bursts into laughter, his smile wide and free and he’s so fucking gorgeous Bradley can’t help but watch and just soak it in.

                “Close. Not quite though. They’re right on the inside crease of my thigh, against my dick and balls.”

                “I’ll have to save having a look for later then.”

                “Yeah? You don’t want to have a look now?”

                “I’m good with waiting. Always find the payoff is better with a little anticipation.”

                “We’re soulmates, meant to be good anyway.”

                “So we get a double whammy.”

                “Ugh. Fine,” Jake mutters, mouth screwing up into a displeased pout and Bradley wants to kiss it so badly, but…

                “At least let me take you on a date first.”

                “But I don’t have free time until we get home…” Jake says, and he’s definitely whining now and Bradley knew he had a reputation for being a bit of a brat, but he can’t help but find it cute and endearing and yeah, it’s definitely shaping into something that is decidedly not platonic in nature.

                “How about you let me worry about that.”

                “Oh. Really?”

                “Yeah. Really.”

                Then he bullies Jake out of bed and into another shower, flicking a couple of messages to both Natasha and Rueben to let them know Jake is awake and moving. He needs to go and shower and change as well, and everything is back in the room he’s sharing with Rueben. Which Rueben will no doubt suddenly enjoy having to himself seeing as he doesn’t imagine either he nor Jake will want to spend much time apart.

                By the time Jake is out of the shower there is food waiting, Natasha is packing his things and Rueben has turned up with Bradley’s own things. He pushes Jake toward the food and steps toward the bathroom with his bag and sees the realization hit Jake that he’s not even leaving his room to go and have a shower. The relief and joy and yeah, there’s definitely something to be said for making your soulmate look like that.

…            …            …

                For all the fact that he’s at the tail end of a world tour, he’s exhausted and he has a bone-deep ache for the comfort of his own bed it feels weirdly domestic in the hotel room when Bradley comes out of the shower looking all put together in a clean clothes; navy pants and light-blue button down, the staid uniform that every single member of his security detail wear and he doesn’t like the reminder that right now Bradley is effectively one of his employees.

                “Just a few more days…” Bradley says, giving him a quick side-hug and Jake has to bite his lip, because clearly Bradley could tell what he was thinking, and he’s not used to being so easy to read. It’s going to take some getting used to.

                The flight to Wellington is short, but the landing is not something he ever wants to relive. The wind makes the plane tilt wildly from side to side and when Jake looks out the window he can’t even see a runway, which is a little alarming considering he can see the white tips of the waves of the ocean below them. Then he’s being rushed off to do some radio segments and the crew are leaving to set up and Bradley is just close-by, always within touching distance, although his eyes are constantly moving and assessing for threats. Rueben is doing the same, but he’s also on the phone a bit and then checking something with Bradley and he’s watching them through the glass of the studio window, distracted when the radio-host asks the next question.

                It’s why he fucks up.

…            …            …

                Natasha is furious.

                He didn’t ever think he’d have to protect Jake from his own people, but he stands there, arms folded and watches as she rants about controlling the narrative and making sure Jake’s private life remains private, because blurting it out on radio that he’d found his soul mate in New Zealand wasn’t keeping it very private. He doesn’t think Jake has any regrets other than making Natasha’s job more difficult, and maybe his job.

                A popstar doing a tour isn’t newsworthy. However said famous popstar finding their soulmate in some far-flung part of the world is definitely more newsworthy and Natasha’s phone hasn’t stopped ringing. However, for Bradley, New Zealand is considered low-threat, and Jake has three concerts left and no-one bar Natasha, Rueben, Logan and himself know exactly what Jake’s plans are for his time off. Even Jake doesn’t know, which is maybe just as well given his sudden propensity to simply blurt things out.

…            …            …

                Once she’s finished yelling at him she tells him to get some rest and he looks to Bradley helplessly. Logan is slapping Bradley on the arm and following Natasha out of the hotel room.

                “I’m sorry. I wasn’t… I didn’t…”

                “Jake. I don’t mind. You’re the one in the spotlight. You get to decide what you share.”

                “Except I didn’t mean to share it, I was just… watching you and not paying attention to the question and it was something about my favorite part of being here in New Zealand, or the highlight of the tour…”

                “And you were looking at me,” Bradley says, and he’s smirking.

                “Yeah well… you’re nice to look at. Shut up.”

                “Not too shabby yourself.”

                “Don’t’ feel very hot right now. Nap with me?”

                “Yeah. Just let me check in with Rueben, then yeah, nap sounds good.”

…            …            …

                He doesn’t know which version of Jake he likes the most. Soft just-awake Jake with creases on his face from the pillow case, slightly pissy Jake when Bradley won’t do anything more than hold his hand or place a chaste kiss to his cheek or forehead, or right now, watching Jake perform on stage, his energy and showmanship getting the audience completely buzzing and singing along. He puts absolutely everything into his show and it’s no wonder he crashes so abruptly afterwards, coming down from the high. He’s pretty sure he’ll be able to help with that, eventually. Once he’s off Jake’s books as an employee. God, he’s really going to have to rethink his whole career if he means to follow Jake rather than taking security details for different people around the world. He knows what he wants though, and he hasn’t even kissed Jake properly yet, but that is not because he doesn’t want to.

                Jakes goes out for two encores, meets with some of the fans who won a competition and carefully deflects questions about his soulmate. Says he’s protecting their privacy. Then he signs things for nearly an hour; Bradley just stands off to the side and keeps a close eye on everyone. Rueben and Logan are also there because it’s meant to be his night off. He takes the bottle of water Natasha hands him and makes Jake drink it, then hands him a protein bar, raises an eyebrow when Jake pulls a face but he dutifully opens it and crunches down on it while scowling at him. Bradley just smiles and brushes a kiss against his cheek while it’s still busy chewing.

                “Holy shit. I just realized our jobs are like, a hundred times easier now…” Rueben says and Bradley looks up to find him watching Jake and him.

                “Mine too,” Natasha agrees and Bradley smiles, pulls Jake into his arms despite how sweaty he is, hooks his chin over his shoulder.

                “Mmm. Well, we’ve still got a schedule to stick to.”

                “Wait, what? Are we not staying here tonight?”

                “Nope. Sorry. I know it’s fucking awful, but we’re taking a very quick flight and then all day tomorrow, tomorrow night and then a lazy sleep in… all in one place, okay?”

                “One place for two nights?”

                “Well, what’s left of tonight once we get there, and then tomorrow night. Come on.”

                He gets Jake to shower and change into soft comfortable clothes, assures him no one will see him travelling. It’s easy because Jake didn’t even unpack, and Bradley just has him tucked up beside him as they get driven to the airport. The flight between Wellington and Rotorua is only a little over an hour. There are cars waiting for them and Jake is drowsy and easy enough to direct. He’s adorably snuggly and his heart twists with warmth as he runs his fingers through his hair.

…            …            …

                He’s sitting at the table, dressed and ready for the day ahead, reading through further information Ice and Mav have sent him, none of which really impacts his actions when it comes to Jake’s safety, when Jake finally stirs and blinks sleepily at him.

                “Where am I?”

                “How specific do I need to be?” Bradley asks and Jake pulls a face.

                “I preferred yesterday when I woke up and you were still in bed with me.”

                “Well, I did spend the night in bed with you. I just got up early, did a workout, then showered and got dressed…”

                “I missed watching you work out…”

                Bradley laughs, walks over to the bed and settles down beside Jake and takes in the fluffy hair, squinty eyes as he clearly protests being awake.

                “You want to see me get hot and sweaty?”

                “Well, I’d prefer other activities to get your hot and sweaty, but until you get off your high horse… it’s fine by the way. I respect it. But I just… I’m going to go and have a shower.”

                “Okay. I’ll have breakfast and coffee waiting for you.”

                Jake makes no effort to hide his morning erection, straining against his sleeping pants, and if he thinks it’s going to embarrass him he’s sorely mistaken. He just watches and when Jake glances back he just raises an eyebrow and smirks, amused when Jake blushes and then closes the bathroom door with an emphatic thump.

…            …            …

                Jake re-enters the room, showered and looking much more put together and rested, although he’s still wearing the clothes he slept in. He settles in the chair opposite and promptly hooks his ankle around Bradley’s.

                “Okay, so you never answered. Where am I? Where are we?”

                “Rotorua.”

                “Okay. That sounds familiar but I have no idea why. Care to explain?”

                “Well, thought I’d take you on a date.”

                “Yeah? What have you got planned?”

                “Well, I have to say I do feel like I got a playbook and cheated a little, but it’s still happening…”

                Jake waves an impatient hand, clearly wanting him to get to the point.

                “Ziplining. Then an afternoon mountain biking…”

                “Wait. Seriously? Javy said no to that…”

                “I’m not Javy.”

                “Oh my god. I want to kiss you…”

                “After our date.”

                “An all-day date?”

                “Yep. Still have Rueben and Logan with us though. Natasha is in Auckland having a pamper afternoon after she deals with the, uh, aftermath of yesterday.” Jake groans and Bradley laughs. “It’s fine, but there were some fans who had the super-pass and were standing on the stage and the media are convinced that one of them is your soulmate.”

                “Oh.”

                “Yeah. No one thinks it’s one of your security detail at least, who as far as most of the media knows has been the same for most of the tour. No one new you could possibly be trading first words with.”

                “Oh.”

                “And no press or media today or tomorrow. Two whole days where you can just… not think about it.”

                “Thank you.”

                “Thank Natasha. But I’ll be sure to pass it on… So I’m going to try and make today feel as normal and fun as I can. For all that we’re doing a whole bunch of touristy things.”

                “Yeah, a little touristy but also I’m just dying to do something different,” Jake says, and Bradley suddenly feels a lot more confident about the other things he’s tacked on to the day.

                “Well, it’s not quite an original date idea, seeing as you put it on your planned day off, but I thought that I could make it happen…”

                “Are you serious?”

                “Yep. Told you I wanted to treat you right.”

                The look Jake gives him feels charged with electricity, heavy, a little intense and a challenge all rolled into one. Bradley simply holds his gaze, reminds himself that he has four days of work, then the flight home and then he’s officially off the books. His restraint is being tested though and he really does want to kiss Jake.

                “Well, what are we waiting for?”

                “You to get dressed. For a start.”

…            …            …

                The four of them are fastened into harnesses and he resists the urge to check that they’ve got them all done correctly. Obviously if things go badly it’ll reflect on them, they’re probably being extra careful with Jake there. The safety briefing is quick but thorough, and soon he’s soaring through the treetops. He can hear Rueben whooping up ahead and grins, hears Jake’s shout of joy and then his own stomach swoops as he glides effortlessly from one platform to another. The forest is lush and green, rushing water below them is picturesque. The rush of wind, coupled with the views and the adrenaline it’s pretty exhilarating. He gets to the end and Rueban and Jake are both waiting and then Logan is joining them and he catches the look they share. Getting paid to do this kind of stuff is pretty amazing.

                Jake takes the obligatory photos with the staff, Rueben does the job of asking them to hold off mentioning anything on social media channels for at least twenty-four hours, ideally forty-eight. They happily agree when Jake mentions giving them a shoutout on his account when he gets to Auckland, that he’s currently avoiding social media. It doesn’t stop him taking plenty of photos though, and he notes Rueben and Logan are taking plenty of the two of them and he’ll have to thank them later. After getting them to send him the best ones.

                The café they’re heading to for lunch is apparently famous for their grilled cheese, winning national competitions, and Rueben had already done the research so he follows his lead. Rueben’s also the one driving them and Bradley’s not complaining that he gets to sit in the back of a car and get driven around, all while holding Jake’s hand as he looks through pictures. Fortunately it’s the middle of the week, which means it’s maybe a little quieter. Still people approach and ask for photos when they realize exactly who Jake is. Again they’re asked to hold fire on posting anything to social media but Bradley knows that with every photo taken the chance of their location being made known increases. Jake talks to them about enjoying his day off and he’s definitely a people pleaser, his fans are pretty understanding, wishing him well, although they’re also clearly looking around for who might be with them and also Jake’s soulmate.

                Then they’re on the way to mountain biking and he’s arranged hiring four bikes, Logan and Rueben taking the front. Rueben, with his experience, has arranged lifts back to the top each time, although both he and Logan give him shit for being lazy. It does make for a more pleasurable experience though, navigating their way through a network of trails through a forest. He’s never done mountain biking before, and he’s glad that he and Jake stick to the beginner trails, because even those have tree roots and drops that make him wonder if Rueben and Logan are going to come away with broken limbs. By the time they finish up his quads are burning and he’s regretting working out that morning, not realizing quite how active the day was going to be. At least they can all enjoy the next part.

…            …            …

                He catches Jake looking at him, eyebrow quirked and he just grins. Rueben pulls into a parking area and then hops out, making a call to let them know they’ve arrived. Then someone is there, then they’re all being escorted to a side door and ushered through softly-carpeted hallways and into luxurious bathrooms. Rueben and Logan disappear to their own, he was intent on them getting their own and letting him and Jake just have this together.

                “What are we doing here?”

                “Massage. Hopefully something relaxing. With mud.”

                “Um. What?”

                “I’ve been assured you’ll like it.”

                “Natasha.”

                “Natasha,” Bradley agrees with a grin, and he nods toward the shower cubicle.

                “Not going to shower with me?” Jake asks.

                “Nope… I’ve got my own cubicle.”

                “Well, that ruins some of my fun… wait. Is this like, a couples massage?

                “Yeah.”

                “Oh…”

                He never thought Jake Seresin would get embarrassed, not by being shown a little softness but it seems like he is, little streaks of pink appearing on the crest of his cheeks and Bradley doesn’t resist the urge to reach out and just squeeze his hand.

                “Go on. There should be a fluffy robe and sexy disposable underwear for after your washed off the dirt and sweat from the ride…”

                He’s also packed a change of clothes and some other essentials for later. Once they’re both showered and wrapped in matching robes Bradley presses the call button, an attendant appears to lead them to another room. It’s warm, dimly lit, calming and quiet music set the mood. He and Jake are led to tables side by side, where they can look at each other if they want to, although he notes Jake decides to instead shove his head in the hole and hide his face. That’s okay, Bradley can understand him feeling a little overwhelmed. He didn’t warn him about this part of the date and he wonders if he should maybe mention the next parts.

                Then they’re asked if they’re ready to start, then he’s being covered in warm… mud. It has to be mud. It feels odd, but the person massaging him though is good, the pressure of their hands soothing the aches in his tired muscles and he lets himself relax. He opens his eyes a little while later to find Jake watching him and he smiles softly, gets a slow sleepy smile in return which makes his heart kick in his chest. The sluice of warm water over his legs startles him and then he realizes they’re washing the mud off.

                They’re both rinsed clean and then towel dried, then the robes are there and they’re back in the bathrooms showering to get the last little remnants of mud off. Jake definitely looks more relaxed, and he somehow looks better, and he already looked good.

                “So, where are we going next?”

                “Private hot tub soak in the forest…”

                “Seriously?”

                “Yep. And then dinner and a walk…”

                “Wow. Thank you for this. All of it. Today.”

                “Want to give you every experience that you want,” Bradley says, because it’s the truth but also this wasn’t even difficult or original. He simply took what Jake wanted already and added to it. He thinks he’s going to find Jake surprisingly easy to please.

…            …            …

                “Here, got you some trunks.”

                “Thanks.”

                Then Bradley is turning away and he can see his words across Bradley’s left shoulder blade, writing messy and scrawling and definitely his and he lets out a little laugh, which has Bradley turning back to look at him.

                “What?”

                “Just… saw my words. Feel like I should apologize for my handwriting.”

                The smile Bradley gives him reminds him of the one they’d exchanged when they’d just been looking at each other while getting massages. He’s never felt this relaxed at the end of a tour before, and he knows, hopes, that it’s because Bradley is there. He’s sleeping rather than lying awake, feeling settled and grounded despite being miles from home.

                “Come on, get changed. We can cuddle and talk while sitting in the hot tub…”

                “Oh my god, that sounds amazing…”

                He changes quickly, tries not to focus on the fact that he’s very briefly naked and in the same room as Bradley. Then he’s following him out and it’s quiet, and he can see a few people but there a fair way away and it obvious that care has been taken to make the most of the surrounding forest to provide privacy. They walk down a boardwalk to a tub, and there is steam rising from the surface of the water, and also a nearby stream. Right. Geothermal waters. The steam gives an illusion of even more privacy, almost like it’s a different world and he drops his towel on the bench and steps over the edge of the tub and into the warm water, Bradley following hi,

                “Come here…” Bradley states, and then he finds himself nestled between Bradley’s thighs as his arms and legs wrap around Jake and he hooks his head over Jake’s shoulder and places a soft kiss to the side of his neck.

                “What if I want to cuddle you?”

                “Then we take turns. Just let me hold you for a bit.”

                “Yeah, okay with me,” Jake murmurs, settling relaxing further. He can see a jug of water with glasses off to the side, along with a platter of fruit and hums appreciatively. It feels like it’s been a while since his grilled cheese at lunch, but he doesn’t reach for anything, he has a question he wants to ask. “What did you think, about your words I mean?”

                “I thought I was either going to play a lot of games of hide and seek, or maybe be a member of a search and rescue team. Although, I did think the person would be more appreciative of being found if I was in search and rescue. What about you? Are your words why you have a reputation for trying to escape from your security detail?”

                “Not intentionally,” Jake muses. Thinks about it. “Maybe? I don’t know. I always finish a show and need some time to…”

                “Decompress?”

                “Yeah,” Jake agrees quietly, and he’s grateful that Bradley apparently understand that part of him already. Not the high-energy performer that his public image hangs from, but the quieter edges of him that ache for the comforts of home after. That Bradley might become that home now… it’s equal parts terrifying as it is exciting.

                “Just… can I have a kiss?” Jake asks, turning in the water to face him. He knows Bradley has his line drawn in the invisible sand, and he’s glad in the moment that it’s there, the knowledge that it can’t, or won’t, go any further.

                “Yeah. Of course you can have a kiss now…”

                Bradley has been affectionate and pressed so many kisses to his forehead and cheek, let his hands rest where they fall on Jake’s body when standing side-by-side, or guiding him through crowds. It’s been casual and easy, comforting in how easy Bradley had just offered the new level of affection.

                Bradley’s hand cups Jake’s face and it’s soft, slow and exploratory. He lets the water buoy him and he straddles Bradley’s thighs, loops his arms around his neck and lets himself press into it, firmer but not hard, just wanting to convey that he’s here, with Bradley and not thinking about anything else in the moment other than them together. He can feel Bradley’s hands on his hips beneath the water, a steady presence just holding him and he can’t get his head around feeling so settled and grounded while also feeling like he’s flying.

…            …            …

                Bradley meets up with Rueben and Lee, goes over the last few plans for the rest of the day. They’re both still on the high that they’re both getting paid to effectively have the best day off and if he can have them form part of Jake’s permanent security detail he’s going to do it. Jake comes out of the bathroom and grins at them all, but it’s his hand he reaches for, linking their fingers together and he doesn’t even bother to try hiding his grin.

                “What next? I’m starting to get a little hungry, so I hope you’re going to say food…”

                “Yeah, it’s food. Come on.”

                He lets Rueben and Logan take care of everything, the driving and security checks. His own eyes don’t stop moving, not until they all pile into one gondola and then slowly travel up the hillside, to where the restaurant sits. They’ll have the best view of the scenery and while Rueben and Logan are there, they’re also not sitting at the same table as them, a small private dining area set off just to the side. He has no idea what he eats, not even sure he does considering he doesn’t seem to have let go of Jake’s hand. Then they’re watching the sky turn dark, shots of pink and gold filling the sky over the lake and okay, it’s a pretty fucking perfect first date and it’s not over yet.

                They take the luge down the hill, racing each other and Jake laughs and it is unplanned and Bradley is very fucking grateful that none of them break anything, even if Rueben and Logan both look like they want to do it again if Jake suggests it. He doesn’t give him a chance to, takes Jake’s hand in his again and tugs him towards the car.

                “Come on… one more thing to do.”

                “What?”

                “Nighttime canopy walk through the redwood trees…”

                The look on Jake’s face is gratifying, the squeeze of his hand and grin that clearly indicates he’s more than happy that their date is not yet over. They’re not very far away, but it’s dark by the time they get out of the car. There’s another short safety briefing, and Jake smiles, signs an autograph but then they’re left alone to make their way through the canopy, suspended on purpose built walkways. There are lanterns casting shadows and it feels like the rest of the world has just slipped away from existence, leaving just the two of them.

                They need their hands free for holding on a lot of the time, some of the passages too narrow to consider holding hands anyway, but he stops them at every platform, wraps his arms around Jake and lets himself drop gentle kisses on Jake’s face, his lips, his neck. As the walk progresses the kisses become a bit longer, a little more heated, and he’s glad that while it might feel like they’re alone, there are people waiting for them. He has his resolve and ethics and he’s going to trying his level fucking best to stick to them. Kissing Jake is his compromise.

                The compromise is unfairly tested when they get back to the ground, Jake smiling and grateful, but his fingers gripping Bradley’s hand so hard it’s almost painful as they thank the operators for letting them book the entire evening. Then he’s being pulled along a little path, the light down here even less than it had been up in the canopy. Then he’s being pushed up against one of the trees and Jake is kissing him fiercely, hard and bruising, breath gasping out of him and he’s pressing his groin against Bradley’s thigh and grinding –

                “Jesus Jake…” Bradley groans, letting himself just enjoy it for a moment, he’ll stop. Soon.

                “God, can we… please… I… fuck. Sorry…”

                “Just… kind of like the idea of our first time being in your bed. Or my bed.”

                Jake groans, but it’s not one of pleasure, more of frustration and Bradley forces himself to stop, to just rest his forehead against Jake’s shoulder and breathe, and Jake mirrors the posture, his forehead on Bradley’s shoulder.

                “Oh my god, you’re a romantic.”

                “Yeah. Little bit.”

                “Ugh. Why me…”

                “You deserve to be romanced… also I don’t want us to have to hurry or have to be somewhere. I’ve waited my whole life for this, what’s a couple more days?”

                “You can’t be sweet and look so fucking hot. My brain can’t cope…”

                “You want me to apologize?”

                “No. Never. Just… give me a minute.”

                “Of course.”

…            …            …

                “Oh god, what is that smell?”

                “Sulfur. Active volcanic zone remember?”

                “And the whole town smells like this?”

                “Apparently you get used to it. We’ve been on the outskirts of the town mostly, so it’s… not as intense.”

                “Our first date, I’ll remember it every time I get a whiff of sulfur or rotten eggs… Great.”

                “Hopefully other things make you remember it too. Now come on, we have a flight to Auckland pretty early tomorrow.”

                “How early is early?”

                “Nine.”

                “Oh… that’s actually humane.”

                “It’s only a forty-five minute flight, so yeah, no early morning wake up.”

                Like the previous two nights they fall asleep together.

…            …            …

                The next three days and final two concerts whip past in a blur; apart from sleeping with Jake tucked carefully in his arms at night he’s the epitome of a professional, although both Rueben and Logan keep smirking at him. He subtly gives them the finger when he catches them, but he’s counting down the hours to hand-over now. Jake has had multiple interviews, fielded endless questions about his soul bond which he’s deflected by simply saying that his soul mate deserves their privacy. There has been no hint of gender or nationality, and Bradley is pretty sure Jake is treating it like a challenge now, to keep it a secret after letting it slip in the first place. He doesn’t mind either way, but does appreciate not being under the same scrutiny as Jake himself.

                Then they’re finally on their final flight home, they’ve spent a lot of time conversing, mostly through messages on their phones, exchanging dirtier and dirtier information and it’s been good, having such a serious conversation almost silently. If their phones ever get hacked then they’ll be in trouble but they’ve managed to get through some pretty meaningful and important discussions with minimal awkwardness, which has been an unintended benefit. Although he’s well aware it’s once again crossing over the now incredibly blurred line in the sand regarding his professionalism. However he’s pretty sure Jake isn’t going to allow time for any type of actual conversation before they end up having sex, so again this is something he’s prepared to compromise on.

                “You two are weird… Tour has finally finished. We’re on our way home. You finally have some privacy and you’re both sitting there, not even touching, staring intently at your phones.”

                “We’re communicating plenty,” Jake says darkly, shifting in his seat and Bradley grins, looks at the ceiling of the plane to avoid looking at Jake. He’d just shared that he really likes eating guys out, but that some guys don’t like his moustache because it makes all the sensitive skin just that little bit more sensitive. He’s pretty sure Jake is sporting a semi in his sweats, hiding it with a blanket draped over and he glances to him. Sure enough, Jake is glaring at him and Bradley raises an eyebrow, knows Jake can’t do anything about it right now.

                “Bathroom,” Jake spits out, and then he’s gone toward the back of the plane.

                Bradley feels smug until he receives the photo, Jake’s hand around his cock and he bites back a groan.

                Yeah, he guesses he deserved that.

…            …            …

                “Fucking finally… come on.”

                “You sure you don’t want to sleep?”

                “I’ve waited fucking long enough.”

                “Come on then, shower first… get clean hmm?”

                “No. Take too long. Just… something else first?”

                “You trying to give orders now?" Bradley teases, thrusting against him hard enough to almost knock him off his feet and Jake makes grabby hands, his fingers curling in the fabric of Bradley’s shirt and holding tight as they kiss and grind against each other.

                “Yes, I am if you don't want me to come in my fucking pants," Jake gasps and Bradley makes a considering look, because the idea of it, the accompanying visual is definitely something that turns him on. Stepping back, gentler and more careful than before, he slips a couple of fingers into the waistband of Jake’s sweats and pushes them down, leaving the underwear for now, because he’s going to see his words on Jake soon, up close and very personal.

                "Tempting. Another time," he promises, and then he drops to his knees and the way Jake’s eyes go darker is gratifying.

…            …            …

                Jake has to squeeze the base of his cock through the fabric of his underwear to keep from losing it right there. God, this is going to be over alarmingly quickly but it’s okay, he reminds himself, Bradley won’t care or judge and it’s going to be one of many times together, but he can’t help the small part of him that wants it to be perfect. God, maybe rutting against the thick expanse of Bradley’s thigh might have been perfect, seeing him on his knees right now definitely is, but maybe anything would be perfect right now and he needs to stop worrying about any of it and all of it. But he does want his hands on him and he holds a hand out, makes Bradley stand up and then leads him to his bedroom.

                “You did say you wanted to have a bed…”

                “I say a lot of things…”

                He watches as Bradley kicks his pants off. It's not the first time Jake's seen him naked, but it’s the first time he’s allowed to look. To touch. He's gorgeous all over, thick and strong in a way that makes him look bigger than he really is. When he reaches for the waistband of his boxers, Jake does the same, kicks his underwear off and then Bradley is there, fully naked, touching him everywhere, pressing their bodies together. Their cocks are bobbing around ridiculously but then Bradley’s hand is there, just catching and holding them both, more to guide than anything else and Jake groans.

                “Bed, come on. Want you on me…”

                It’s something he’d mentioned in their silent text exchange, that he likes feeling blanketed and pinned down, held and grounded. Bradley is walking him backwards toward his own bed and he lets himself fall back and then shuffles up, his eyes not leaving Bradley’s. Then he lets his legs fall open, runs a finger along the crease of his thigh and Bradley’s eyes track the movement.

                “Oh…” Bradley murmurs under his breath. Then he’s licking over the words and Jake almost jackknifes back up at the sudden ticklish sensation. “Mmm… stay where I tell you to huh?”

                “Asshole.”

                “Yep. Proud of it too.”

                Then Bradley shifts and moves Jake, so he can staddle Jake’s thighs and his hands are free to roam and touch everywhere; suddenly Jake can do the touching he so badly wanted to do and he grips Bradley’s thighs, and, God, Jake feels like he’s waited forever for this. Then Bradley shifts again and he’s close enough that Jake can get his hand on his cock, although Bradley is leaning down to kiss him. He thumbs the thick vein under the head of Bradley's cock, smiles when he feels Bradley's mouth open against his neck, feels smug. Tightening his grip and stroking in earnest, Jake angles his head down to watch his hand working between them. Bradley has a nice cock, thick and shiny pink where the head pokes through Jake's fist. Jake knows he's an asshole for feeling relieved about it. It's not like he would want Bradley any less if he had a tiny dick or anything, but it's nice not to have to worry about it.

                "Thought about this," Jake tells him. He licks his palm messily before reaching down to stroke him again, grip tight and slick with saliva, likes the fact that all he can see and feel is Bradley.

                It's been a while since Jake last did this for someone, and even then it was mostly just a step to get to the good stuff. Touching Bradley is different; Jake wants to know what he likes. He strokes faster and slower, tighter and looser, shorter and with a twist of his wrist at the end just to see what reactions he can get. Playing with Bradley's foreskin makes him hiss through his teeth, so Jake quickly gives up on that in favor of the long, tight strokes that seem to illicit the best response. He is rewarded with shifting hips and low, throaty groans.

                "God, Jake," Bradley murmurs drunkenly, tipping his head forward to mouth at Jake's clavicle.

                The way Bradley gasps out his name makes Jake's heart feel too big for his chest. Clamping his eyes shot Jake works his hand steadily, focusses on the little hitching sounds that Bradley makes on each upstroke. Everything is slick with spit and precum now, Jake's own cock leaking between them steadily. He's so hard it hurts, but it's easy enough to ignore when he feels Bradley's muscles twitch and shudder above him. Then Bradley shifts again, grabbing for Jake’s wrists, pinning him to the mattress. Wiggling a little, Jake's heart pounds when Bradley doesn't budge. Jake stares up at him, eyes wide.

                "I'm so into this. So into you," he tells Bradley in amazement.

                Bradley laughs, eyes crinkling fondly. He's lovely, he's so lovely, it drives Jake completely crazy.

                "You’re much too coherent," Bradley states, pushing Jake's wrists up above his head and stretching him out beneath him with a heated gaze. All the fantasies in the world have nothing on the way Bradley looks perched above him, eyes dark as he transfers both of Jake's wrists into one hand and runs the other down his chest. He touches him everywhere but where he wants, dragging a palm down Jake's throat, over his pecs and stomach then back up. Jake pushes his heels into the mattress as thick fingers rub against his left nipple, sending a shiver of electricity to his crotch.

                "Bradley," he gasps. "I don't need... I don't need much. Please."

                "Mmm," Bradley agrees, dropping his head to suck the abused nipple into his mouth. Squirming against his hold, Jake whines weakly. It's too much.

                He wants more. Needs more.

                "You're so easy for me," Bradley murmurs wonderingly, stubble scratching against sensitive skin as he talks. It's been long enough since Jake fucked a guy that he can't remember if stubble-burn always turned him on or if it's a Bradley-specific thing, the moustache is softer than he thought it would be though.

                "Yeah. Just for you," Jake breathes, because it's pretty obvious what buttons to push with Bradley. As he suspected would happen the illusion of control breaks, and Bradley shudders, pushing up to kiss him. Sucking messily at Bradley's tongue, Jake wants to pull his legs up to wrap around his hips, wants to be able to chase more friction against his body. His cock feels heavy and painfully hard between his legs, and Bradley is still hovering above him, infuriatingly out of reach.

                "Please, come on," Jake insists between kisses. "I need you. Come on, Bradley."

                Bradley makes a wounded noise into his mouth, hand fumbling as it slides between their bodies to finally wrap around Jake's cock. It's embarrassing how close he is already. Little choking sounds escape his mouth with every shift of Bradley's hand over the swollen head of his cock, the sensation almost too much. Thrusting messily into the circle of Bradley's fist, Jake's too far gone to care how desperate he might look.

                He wants to drag this out, wants Bradley touching him forever, but he's been ready to go off since Bradley kissed him three days ago. The hot, tight slide of Bradley's hand over him now is too much. His balls tighten and his entire body is jerking like his entire body is crying out for touch despite having it nearly everywhere. Bradley releases his wrists suddenly, collapsing forward onto his forearm and jerking Jake hard and fast.

                "I've got you, I've got you," he murmurs over and over into Jake's neck. The familiar rumble of his voice tips Jake over the edge, muscles seizing. Pleasure crashes into him as he jerks and spills, hot and messy all over Bradley's hand and his own stomach. Bradley whispers nonsense as he wrings him out, yeah baby, that's it, so fucking gorgeous, so good. Jake whines weakly as he spasms through the aftershocks, too blissed-out to care how dumb he might sound or look.

                He slumps and goes boneless, Bradley kissing messily along his neck and jaw. Still panting, Jake strokes clumsily up and down his back, trying to regain his wits. Bradley's cock is pressing insistently against his hip, so Jake slides his hands down to grab the flesh of his ass, pulling him forward. Moaning gratefully, Bradley thrusts through the mess Jake made of his own stomach, cock head smearing wetness up his abs.

                "Yeah," Jake breathes, encourages. He feels sluggish and come-stupid, but he wants to make Bradley feel good. He can’t wait to find all the ways  to make Bradley feel good, once he has a functioning brain again and he’s regained his hand-eye coordination.

                Turning his head, he nudges Bradley's mouth up for a kiss, simultaneously digging his nails into his ass. Bradley's hips stutter then thrust hard against Jake's belly, hand sliding down to grip his hip. Even half out of his mind, he's bossy, angling Jake's hips how he wants them and rutting against him. Jake leans back, reveling in how wrecked Bradley looks as he jerks harder and harder against him, mouth wet and open and eyes lidded.

                "Come on. Come on, baby," Jake whispers, rolling his hips with each thrust. He's so oversensitive it almost hurts, but he doesn't care. Bradley looks close. Licking his lips, Jake kisses him on the corner of his slack mouth. "I want it. I want it, Bradley. Come for me. Want everyone to know I'm yours. Come on."

                It's mostly nonsensical, but it seems to do the trick. Bradley scrambles for leverage, shoves Jake up the bed with two hard thrusts before going rigid and coming in long, groaning bursts over his chest and stomach. Jake gentles him through it, stroking his hair and shoulders and murmuring encouragingly as he shudders, trying to memorize the way Bradley's face looks all screwed-up and euphoric. Jake did that, made him look that way, and he knows he doesn’t need to commit it to memory because they’ll be doing this again, but he still wants to remember it. Bradley collapses to the side with an arm slung over Jake's stomach. Honestly, Jake would have kind of liked being squashed, but he appreciates that Bradley is as much of a gentleman about this as he is about everything else. It's part of his charm.

              �� "You good?" he asks.

                Bradley grunts in response, obviously still out of it, and Jake smiles. It's disgusting, really, how gone he is on him. Shifting closer, Jake turns his head towards Bradley and closes his eyes, happy to just lie there and enjoy the moment. It's almost too good to take in all at once and he suspects that’s partially due to the exhaustion catching up with him, feels himself drift in and out of consciousness. He feels the mattress shift and Bradley's arm slide carefully off his waist. There is a split second when Jake thinks maybe he's just rolling over, but then Bradley's weight is gone and he's alone in bed. He's not sure how much time passes before something warm and wet swipes over his stomach, startling him back into consciousness and he grumbles quietly about almost being asleep.

                "It’s this or a shower…" Bradley whispers, and he’s definitely looking smug when Jake blinks up at him. He's leaning over the bed, washcloth in hand, still completely naked, hair a complete disaster.

                "Shower… " Jake mumbles, because he’s pretty sure it won’t be alone. Not anymore, not when Bradley is around.

                “You think you can stand?” Bradley asks, and Jake immediately feels a surge of needing to prove that he can. Although…

                “You can make sure I don’t fall over.”

                And he gets Bradley’s arms around him, pulling him up which is what he was angling for.

…            …            …

                Bradley knows Jake has a stubborn streak, and a level of self-discipline that keeps him going despite how exhausted he might get. But he doesn’t have to draw on those reserves right now, he’d hoped Jake would fall asleep and they could revisit everything in the morning and yet here he is in the shower, a naked half-asleep Jake Seresin insisting he’s good for another round. Bradley would like to differ, but that seems to make Jake do nothing but dig his heels in so he’s going along with it for now.

                It’s nice, quietly soft, having just come he’s not really angling for anything more, just lets himself enjoy the warm and slippery feel of Jake against him, his tongue and lips and little hums of happy pleasure. Then he feels Jake’s hand grab his ass, fingers brushing over his hole and he grins into the curve of Jake’s shoulder, mirrors the exact same thing and is surprised when Jake pushes back against his fingers.

                “It’s not a race Jake. We don’t have to do everything in one night…”

                Jake whines against his neck, hips jerking.

                “I want to though…”

                “We have time.”

                He does try to make them they take their time, part of him wonders if they should maybe be waiting a bit longer, Jake’s been on tour for six months, was dead on his feet less than a week ago and was almost asleep no less than fifteen minutes ago. As much as he looks and acts like he’s bounced back Bradley is fairly certain that nothing but a couple of weeks rest is going to truly bring him back to his equilibrium. Despite all that Jake is going through the motions of washing his hair and body, and Bradley is doing his best to ensure he stays upright and doesn’t fall asleep and brain himself.

                “I’m just… don’t be too long… want you to fuck me,” Jake says and Bradley can’t help but raise a disbelieving eyebrow as Jake steps out of the shower and starts drying himself off.

                “I’ll be right there…” Bradley says, amused beyond belief because he’s not even hard, glad that Jake has such faith in his refractory period. He takes his time, pays attention to getting clean himself and lets himself think about the fact that there will definitely be more sex with Jake in the very near future. He dries himself off and walks back into the bedroom and has to bite back a laugh, because Jake has passed out cold, but also clearly had some serious intent. He’s gotten the lube out, his fingers are shiny with it, as is his ass crack and Bradley picks up the tube and places it on the bedside table safely out of the way, uses his damp towel to wipe Jake’s fingers and presses a soft kiss to his bicep.

                “Sleep well Jake.”

…            …            …

                He wakes up the next morning and he doesn’t think Jake has moved, still completely sacked out but still the most gorgeous sight Bradley has ever woken up to. And he’s certain he’s going to think that every morning he wakes up with Jake beside him. As he watches Jake shifts a little, just a little grind of his hips and Bradley bites his lip, an idea forming as he reaches for the lube and a couple of condoms. Then he slides a finger into himself, is generous with the lube although a little impatient with the actual stretching, his cock getting harder the more he thinks about Jake fucking him. He’d been very thorough last night, not really expecting Jake to be able to stay awake but still not cutting any corners. It does mean that he doesn’t have to take his time this morning, and he knows from his experience the last few mornings that Jake is going to wake fairly soon and he’d like to wake him up. No alarm needed.

                Wiping his fingers on the same towel he used on Jake’s fingers last night, he drops it, then leans forward to kiss Jake's throat, then the underside of his jaw before moving up to run his nose against the side of Jake's stubbly cheek. Bradley's lips graze the corner of Jake's mouth as he smiles again. Up close his dimples are deeper and his eyelashes are darker, and he’s so gorgeous and he’s all Bradley’s. Jake makes little sleepy grunts, his body stretching out to press against Bradley as he wakes and then he’s kissing him properly, shifting to press his hard cock against Bradley’s own.

                “Morning.”

                “Is it morning?”

                “Sure is…” Bradley says, rolling his hips to provide friction for them both, feels Jake shift in response to add to it. Maybe they could just rut against each other like this. Jake is groaning, muttering something which he can’t make sense of, too quiet.

                “How do you like it? Want to fuck me?” Bradley asks, which isn’t actually what he wanted to ask, but he’s getting a little distracted by how Jake’s body feels and he’s not actually fussy but he had an idea and he’d like to at least try it…

                “Yes yes yes.”

                “Or can I fuck you?”

                “I don’t fucking care right now… Just… did I fall asleep last night?”

                “Yep. While I was finishing up in the shower.”

                “God, I am so sorry. That is not sexy.”

                “Oh, it was okay… came in to find you passed out cold and had started fingering yourself without even waiting for me to watch…”

                “Oh my god, it gets worse…”

                “Going to let me open you up? Pretty sure you won’t fall asleep this time.”

                Jake doesn’t answer with words, just shifts and stretches, opens the drawer and then looks confused and Bradley holds out the lube.

                “Looking for this?”

                Jake glares at him, but it’s got no heat and Bradley feels his mouth go dry as Jake shifts again, legs spreading and shoving a pillow under his hips, challenge broadcasted in every movement and Bradley feels smug, thinking about his idea with what he knows Jake has said he likes in bed and what he knows about his own body. He was going to let Jake in on his idea, but he decides not to, his little sulking attitude should not be this hot.

                Jake’s ass crack is tacky with the lube he used the night before and Bradley ignores the sensation, just coats his finger and goes to town, his eyes not leaving Jake’s face, watching for discomfit although the expression on Jake’s face is almost belligerent. Bradley can’t help but lean forward and kiss him, catches each of Jake’s little gasps with his own mouth and works him open slowly and steadily.

                “I’m good, come on…”

                He takes him at his word, presses a kiss to each of Jake’s knees, wipes his hands and then reaches for the condom. Lets Jake take it from him and open it up, rolls it down his cock and then falls back again and shoves his ass in Bradley’s direction.

                “Subtle.”

                “Come on…” Jake snaps and then Bradley’s pushing inside, one long slow push and Jake moans, low and deep and Bradley shakes a little.

                “Fuck,” Bradley says against the side of Jake’s neck, breath humid and hot. He keeps his hips carefully still, waiting for Jake to give him the go-ahead.

                “Yeah, yeah… come on.”

                Bradley tightens his hand on Jake’s hip and then he’s pulling out, letting Jake feel every inch of him, before thrusting back in. He takes it nice and slow, knows he has time. Jake is shifting, trying to get closer, maybe wanting it harder. Regardless, he’s not using any words and Bradley just lets his hips roll in and out, picking up the pace in response to Jake’s breathing picking up speed. His own breath is coming in pants and he can feel his orgasm building, bends down to kiss Jake.

                “I’m not, I… I said…”

                “Shh… It’s okay. I got you. Think we’re made for each other…”

                “You feel good.”

                “Mmm. So do you,” Bradley says, his hips snapping now, thinks about Jake admitting via a message sent not even two days ago that he hardly ever comes when he’s getting fucked. It’s fine, Bradley’s not about to try and prove himself, but it does mean he can just chase his own orgasm and come as quickly as possible. Then he can focus on Jake and his pleasure. He jerks as he comes, his teeth pressing into Jake’s neck and god he hopes that doesn’t mark, that would be a little embarrassing. He gives himself twenty seconds, his thrusts slowing and he finally pulls out all the way, kisses away the expression on Jake’s face as he reaches for another condom and the lube.

                “Wait, what… what are you doing?” Jake asks, and his eyes are glazed and intense and Bradley feels a little shaky but he can do this, rolls the condom down Jake’s cock, strokes him a couple of times with lube before he shifts up so he’s straddling Jake’s stomach.

                “Told you I like being fucked after I’ve come.”

                “Oh Jesus fucking Christ…” Jake breathes as Bradley sinks down on his cock, his thighs trembling but then Jake’s hips are raising up to meet him and he lets gravity take over, groan into the shivery-shake of over stimulation that he likes. Sometimes he can come again, wonders if this’ll be one of those times.

                “Fucking hell… you…” Jake starts and Bradley has no idea what his internal thought process is right now but he’s looking up at Bradley like he’s everything and he feels pretty satisfied with himself.

                “Yeah. Fuck,” Bradley says, rotating his hips in a tight circle

                “Bradley…”

                “Come on. Want you to fuck me now…”

                “What?”

                “Want you to fucking rail me. Just… come on.”

                “Are you sure?”

                “Jake. Trust me. I’m more than sure.”

                Despite Bradley’s hasty encouragement and slight disgruntlement that Jake won’t just take his word for it, part of him is glad that Jake cares enough, although he’ll soon learn that when Bradley tells him he’s ready to be fucked, he really does mean it. Then Jake is pushing him off, the muscles in his arms and shoulders flexing as he moves Bradley around to where he wants him and Bradley realizes that those messages went both ways. Jake is remembering his own admissions about favorite position and he groans, lets his shoulders sink down to bear his weight, his ass in the air and Jake’s hands on his cheeks, pulling them apart and then he’s pressing his cock in and yeah, yeah, it’s going to be one of those times.

                Jake sets a brutal pace and Bradley reassess his consideration that Jake maybe didn’t take him at his word. His entire body feels electrified, nerves twanging and he manages to get a hand on himself, hears Jake’s startled intake of breath, his hips somehow picking up the pace and Bradley grunts, pushes back as he works his hand on his cock. It never really went soft, is feeling overstimulated but he knows from experience that pushing through that will make the second orgasm even better, will have an even sharper edge of relief when he comes.

                Jake knows this, his fingers digging into his hips as he fucks into him, their combined pants the only noises in the room and then he feels Jake’s hands slip a little, their bodies getting slicker with sweat and god it’s so good. This is likely it for them, not just here in Jake’s bed, but beds all over the world, but finding and making a home with each other. Jake had been right when he’d accused him of being a romantic, because he’ll follow Jake anywhere. Right now that’s leading him to a second orgasm within thirty minutes and he shudders and shakes, eyes clenched shut against the burst of white pain-pleasure from working his cock so roughly. Jake makes an unintelligible sound and Bradley is certain he’s also coming but he’s too lost in the haze of his own pleasure again and fuck, his idea to make it all about Jake completely backfired.

                He slumps to the side, gasps at the sudden loss of Jake’s cock inside him, his body feeling even more jittery as he comes down. Then Jake is there, pressing kisses over his back and shoulders, using the towel to wipe up the worst of the mess and he really doesn’t care much about anything right now, just wants to be held and feel the warmth of Jake close to him; which he’s definitely getting, being tugged over to the unused and drier half of the bed, encouraged to lie on top of Jake like a human blanket. He can do that.

                “So glad you found me…” Jake says, his voice quiet.

                “So am I.”

…            …            …

     Jake Seresin married his long-term boyfriend, Bradley Bradshaw, this weekend, in an exclusive and highly secretive event. No word on whether Seresin’s soulmate was there or not, but we can probably assume that it is a platonic bond if he is marrying someone else. Bradshaw was very briefly a member of Seresin’s security detail before they -

                Kaysie looks at the words and starts digging, going back through Instagram accounts and the social medias of different places. There’s plenty of photos of Seresin and Bradshaw, their day in Rotorua incredibly well documented considering it was ostensibly a day-off for Jake rather than a PR exercise. The day after he’d unintentionally declared to the world that he’d found his soulmate, but a lot of the business posts and other posts are a day or two after the actual scheduled day off. Which was a few days after Bradley Bradshaw had joined the security detail. Her eyes narrow. That’s a hell of a coincidence, but there’s zero actual proof either way.

                She looks at the photos again, sees the joy and soft smiles and hopes that whether they’re soulmates or not, that they’re happy together and remain that way.

THE END

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

Summer 2020 - The Hard Deck

Chapter 8 Part 1 of You Are My Soulmate

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Reader

Description: Two months. Sometimes you can't believe you've already been dating Bradley Bradshaw, the most perfect man you've ever met and your soulmate, for that long. But with the pressures of being officers in the Navy and everything your jobs entail, you haven't taken your relationship to the next step. When a night at The Hard Deck has you seeing green, you decide enough is enough. Bradley is your soulmate and you're going to make sure he knows just how much you love him.

Disclaimers: Misogynistic speech. Mentioned Homosexual Relationships. Angst. Flagrant disregard for protocols or Authority. Angst. Anguish.

This content presented in this story is for audiences age 18 and over only. MINORS DNI. I will not be accepting tag-list requests from Blank or Ageless Blogs for this story.

Warnings: Female!Reader

Word Count: 4051

A/N: Hiya lovelies! I'm back with yet another chapter of YAMS! My muse sort of went into hibernation between March and now, but never fear, this fic is not on hiatus! I hope you all love this chapter as much as I do!

AO3: Cross-posted Here!

Wattpad: Cross-posted Here!

My Masterlist

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Tinkerbell

It’s been only a little under a year since you came to North Island. So much has changed over that time. The biggest change? Finding Bradley Bradshaw. You can’t believe you once wished anyone else could be your soulmate. Now, you’re not sure you could wish for anyone else. It feels like your entire outlook on life has changed, because you’re not sure you could go back to the person who wasn’t quickly falling in love with their soulmate.

Bradley Bradshaw is different now, too. When he’s not on base, he’s sweet and kind, considerate in a way you’d agreed he wouldn’t be when you were on duty. A part of the reason why is because nobody on base (except your best friends) knows that Bradley Bradshaw is your soulmate. Neither of you is in a rush to put a label on what you are either. Jake and Javy have both asked you, repeatedly, whether you're together, but you can’t tell them not when you’re not sure what is going on between you and your soulmate. After your contentious first few months at North Island, you’re a little afraid to ask Bradley, as well. What if that question makes everything devolve between the two of you? What if you go back to the fighting? You’re not sure you can go back to how it used to be between the two of you, with tension rising in the air between you. You think Bradley feels the same as you do. You hope he does. While you can still see the disbelief on his face sometimes when you kiss him, like he can’t believe he’s yours, you’re still not sure.

The rumor mill around North Island hasn’t helped anything. It’s obvious the newest Top Gun class has heard the rumors of the last few months. It should be a blessing they haven’t focused on the events leading up to Hawk’s inquiry and its aftermath. Instead, they’ve chosen to focus on what is going on (or may be going on) between you and Bradley. No doubt they’ve heard from Calypso, who was as gossipy as could be, before coming to North Island. You’ve witnessed it yourself, how the LTJG gossip network works. How else would news of the great Maverick’s latest brush with the Admiralty become the next talked about thing when you’re on board a ship for months at a time? Now every interaction you have with the Dagger Squadron is examined with a fine-toothed comb when superior officers aren’t present. You’ve heard some truly ridiculous things at this point, just by walking past the lounge.

“Have you seen how Tinkerbell is with Phoenix and Bob? I’m pretty sure she’s fucking both of them in addition to Bradshaw. The question is if they know or if she’s cheating on each of them with the others?”

As if that wasn’t ridiculous enough, it seems like you’re rumored to be romantically linked to almost every Dagger you speak to.

“Okay, but have you seen how she acts with Coyote and Hangman? If she gets any closer to them when they’re off duty, she’d be on top of them.”

“I bet you 50, she is!”

“I’d take that bet, but Hangy’s too buttoned up for that!”

If only it were just the Dagger Squad you’ve been rumored to be in a relationship with.

“She’s totally got an April-September thing going on with Admiral Mitchell! You’ve seen him napping on the sofa in front of her desk! Why else would an Admiral be in the AMDO hangar?”

Your favorite rumors of all, though, are the ones about Bradley and you. 

“Bradshaw has to be who she is dating! He smiles so much when she’s around him! There’s this tension between the two of them all the time! If they’re not head over heels for each other, then I think I need a vacation (or my radar is broken).”

“That’s a shame, Jiffy! Are you a WSO or aren’t you?”

“Fuck you, Toast! Anyways, like I was saying, they’ll be fucking before we graduate from Top Gun!”

They’re your favorite rumors because they’re the ones most likely to come true, not that any of the class will come to know, especially not Toast and Jiffy, from whom you heard that last parlay. 

It’s the turmoil of being known as Bradley Bradshaw’s soulmate which has had you in a tailspin since the aftermath of that all too successful first date. Can you be known as his? Yes. Do you want to be known as his? Yes and no. That’s about where your feelings and thoughts get complicated. You’d love to scream “Bradley Bradshaw is my soulmate” from the rooftops. But you’re also tired of the double standard. You get enough of it as is, being a successful female, AMDO Lieutenant Commander in the US Navy. The words Bradley had flung at you that first night on North Island (the ones he has apologized for a hundred times)? You’ve heard them more times than you can count. You’re sure you’ll hear them again. But you’re also sure that if the news of you and Bradley being soulmates gets out, every achievement of your career will be in question.

Despite all of the leading research in the world, nobody fully understands how far and deep soulmate bonds go. After all, it’s difficult to, when there are as many types of bonds as there are and even more types of soul markers. You and your soul shared dreams, centered around different objects integral to your soul's identity. Your parents only heard the music the other was listening to until they met. Jake and Javy hold each other’s names on their skin, written out in each other's handwriting. It seems like each type of bond holds a different type of connection, too. In the two months since you and Bradley crashed together, opening the bond, you’ve begun to feel his emotions, get a sense of what he's thinking. Nobody knows how the bond will evolve, but you’re sure it could evolve into a full telepathic bond given time. If anyone were to know, they’d assume your talent with fighter jets came from your soul. They’d find it hard to believe you knew anything of your own. The thoughts have you questioning yourself just a little, too. Before you met him, who knows how much of the bond was open? How much of your success was due to him and how much of it was due to your own hard work?

Thankfully, you have Mav and Ice to confide in and counsel you. Their advice and reassurances have gone a long way in helping you sort out exactly how and when you want your bond publicized. As it turns out, you weren’t the only person to be shocked when they found out Ice and Mav are each other’s soulmates. It’s probably the US Navy’s best kept secret, to be clear. Very few people know, mostly family and commanding officers. You’ve even had the chance to view their public files. There is only a singular line mentioning their bond in each file, stating the words Soulbound, Married followed by the other’s initials.

The way Mav tells it, keeping each other hidden, keeping their bond quiet, has been the biggest help of their careers. Ice would have never been able to protect Mav over the years if their bond had been widely publicized. Of course, like most things in life, it wasn't easy. But it's the price they've each paid time and again to be with each other in spite of their dual need to succeed in their chosen fields.

Bradley and you've talked about it, too. It wasn’t a unilateral decision on either of your parts. You both have goals in your careers you are trying to achieve. So you're trying to follow the same precedent and example. But despite Mav’s warnings, you weren’t expecting keeping your distance from Bradley Bradshaw to be quite so difficult. At work, it's not as big a deal, staying away from each other. It feels like you couldn’t behave in any other way, honestly. Every motion is choreographed, governed by the muscle memory of bodies conditioned by the US Navy into holding themselves a certain way, responding in a certain way.

Unfortunately, the two of you act the same way when you're alone. When you're at home or at Mav and Ice's house, you melt into him, kiss him, hold him like you've been aching to for your whole life. But when you’re out and about in San Diego, he keeps a constant distance between you. He doesn’t slip his arm around your shoulder or your waist, kiss your cheek or shoulder or any of the hundreds of little ways couples you see on the street show their love for each other. You know it’s part and parcel of your pact. But it still makes you feel like a dirty little secret when you know you’re anything but. At least Bradley still kisses you like he believes you are going to disappear if he blinks. Each embrace, each brush of his lips against your skin sparks an inferno. But that is it. As soon as his lips meet your skin, they're gone again.

For weeks you've been feeling the itch under your skin, begging you to get closer to your soul. You're craving intimacy, a need to imprint yourself on his skin so deep he'll never forget who he belongs to. You might not be able to show it publicly, but privately, you’re ready to stake your claim. You know how gorgeous your soul is, inside and out. After all, you have eyes. You would never have noticed him the first night at the Hard Deck all those months ago if it weren’t for his charisma and looks. If only there was a way you could show him, in front of anyone who matters.

It doesn’t help that you can’t even kiss him when you’re off duty most of the time, because you inevitably find yourselves at The Hard Deck with the rest of the Dagger Squadron. There are too many eyes on you, on the Dagger Squadron when you’re there. They’re practically famous, and with Naval personnel other than the Daggers around, you can’t risk anything. When the Daggers are involved, things always seem to get turned on their heads. They are an affectionate squadron, closer to family than colleagues, preferring to hug each other with impunity. After all, you’ve seen the puppy-pile the lot of them turn into after a particularly rough training session at the behest of Mav. So it’s no wonder the rumors fly as fast and furiously about them as they do.

Anti-fraternization regulations are one thing. The badge bunnies and the odd bachelorette parties who wander into the Hard Deck for fun with some men and women in uniform are something else entirely. With enough alcohol, they flirt with anyone in sight. It’s no wonder they flirt as much as they do with your soulmate. They fall over themselves when he sits at the piano at the end of the bar, a flirty smile on his lips as he tickles the ivory keys and sings with his gorgeous voice. He’s your soulmate. You know it in your soul, just as you know all the reasons why Bradley would never pick one of them. But logic and reasoning don’t keep you from seeing red whenever other women flirt with your man.

It’s late, half-past 11 at the very least, with the time ticking closer to midnight with every elapsed second. All the regulars have mostly cleared out tonight, leaving only the Daggers, you, and a few scantily-clad girls in the bar. The Daggers are often the first to enter the bar when it opens and the last to leave. Right now, they’re all arrayed at the pool tables, talking shit and taking shots with the cues in turn. Penny’s behind the bar, like always, though even she seems less than pleased by the high-pitched giggling from the bachelorette party tottering about on too high heels. You hope she’s at least getting good tips from their repeated squeals for shots.

Bradley’s the only Dagger not at the pool tables. Even Bob with his ever-present can of soda and cup of peanuts is over there. If you focus, you think you can hear him roasting Jake in that quiet understated way of his. But most of your focus is on the badge bunny draped across Bradley’s broad chest. She stinks of cheap tequila, you could probably smell her from a mile away, and only the sash draped around her proclaiming her to be the maid-of-honor explains why she’s in this bar. What’s pissing you off just a little more than how this slut is draped over your soulmate is how she barely seems to care how you’re right there. You’ve been standing next to Bradley all night long, closer than is proper for colleagues. His hand’s been looped through one of the belt-loops on your jeans all night too, hidden behind the high table, palm scorching as it rests just over the swell of your ass. What part of your posture screams “This man is single”? If that wasn’t enough, he’d been leaning into your face as you chatted in intimate whispers barely audible over the music. 

She’d barged right into the middle of your conversation, tossing her hair and batting her eyelashes. Even now, she’s flirting and giggling, the high-pitched noises making you wince, putting you so thoroughly on edge that you feel like you’re seconds from snapping. You sigh when she finally stumbles away, her heels clacking clumsily over the sticky floor. You could do without the come-hither eyes she sends Bradley’s way, but at least Bradley doesn’t seem to notice. His attention is on you, like it has been all night.

“Fuck,” His voice is rough, the sound wrapping around you in a way that makes your panties just a little wet. “I’m sorry about that, sweetheart.”

He tugs you in a little closer by your belt loops, the motion soothing the ragged edges of your nerves as the Sandalwood of his cologne drowns you.

“She just wouldn’t go away!”

He drags his hand, the one with his US Naval Academy ring with its garnet gem through his curls as he downs the last few sips of his beer. You track a droplet as it drips down his cut jaw, and desperately want to kiss your soul once again. Of course, that feeling is drowned by more rage as you catch the cow-eyes little miss Maid-of-Honor is making in her sparkly hot pink dress on the other side of the bar. 

It makes you a little reckless as you spit words out, trying to provoke an argument, something to make your soul realize little things like a woman flirting with him, touching him, bothers you.

“Hmm… I wonder why, Roo?” You roll your eyes and stamp your foot a little. “Maybe it’s ‘cause you looked happy to have her wrapped around you?”

He recoils at your words and vitriolic tone, a puppy-dog pout dragging the corners of his mouth down for just a few seconds before resettling his lips into his most charming grin. It’s too charming for words, eroding at the edges of your anger just enough to make her flirting seem less troubling than it is.

“Is everything okay, Tink?” His hand slides up, rubbing at your hip in slow circles, but you’re not willing to give in. “C’mon baby, tell me what I did wrong. I can’t fix it if I don’t know.”

You gulp the last bit of your margarita in response before shoving the glass into his chest.

“It’s nothing, Roo. I’m fine. Just a little thirsty, that’s all.”

Your excuse is slim at best. You know it. So does he by the quirk in his brow as he looks at you. 

“We’ll talk about this when you’re ready.”

Maybe it’s the bond working to let him know when you’re not ready to talk. But when he grabs his empty beer bottle and your martini glass and turns around to walk back to the bar, your irrational anger rears its ugly little head again. Because there she is in all of her glory, whispering with one of her friends, waving him over with red-taloned fingers while seductively staring at your soul. She’s obviously noticed the swagger in his hips just as much as you have. If only she’d noticed your glower in her direction, a gaze which is quickly turning into a piercing glare. You’re not trying to pick a fight, tonight. It's not Bradley's fault that women find him irresistible. You just want your soul to know she bothers you. And you want her to know he’s not hers to seduce into her bed just because he’s hot.

So your tone is artificially light as you call out, just loud enough over the din that Bradley hears you.

“You don’t even know you’re doing it, huh?”

“Doing what?” He sounds confused, adorably so.

“I mean, it’s obvious you haven’t spent any time on a farm.”

You grin from ear-to-ear, fighting the urge to fist-bump the air, when he turns around, out of the line of sight of little miss Maid-of-Honor at the other end of the bar. He thuds the empties down and crosses his arms across his chest, the muscles bulging mouth-wateringly in front of you. It’s obvious he knows what you’re up to based on the amused quirk to his lips, but he’s playing along regardless.

“And you have?”

There’s a sparkle in his eyes as he looks down at you. Your grin could be called positively wicked in response.

“Sure I have! Seresin Ranch is an awful lot of fun at Christmas-time!” You tug one of the chairs over and sit down in it, keeping the high table between you and your soulmate. “You know what else they have at Seresin Ranch?”

“Lemme take a quick guess here…” 

His eyebrows raise as he pretends to think. 

“Chickens?”

“Yup!”

You relish in the shape of your lips as you pop the ‘p’ in your too cheeky response to him.

“And there is one ole Rooster in the flock, too. And you know how he walks? Especially when he’s got a hen he’s wooing?”

“Just like I do?” Your lips quirk at the disappointment on his face, destroying the mock thoughtful pout you'd sent your soul's way moments before. When a smile sneaks onto his lips unwillingly, you giggle. He looks fondly exasperated at the sight of your glee, but takes a step closer to you.

“God, Tinky! If I hadn’t been right here all night, I would’ve been asking you just how much you’ve had to drink tonight!”

You can’t find it in you to respond, the thoughts flitting past at lightning speed. It feels like you’re magnetized to his presence. One of his big hands wraps around your hip as he comes to stand between your open legs. He’s a lot, all of a sudden, standing there so close. It’s a little overwhelming. You can’t keep your eyes off of his face, eyes straying repeatedly over the little laugh lines stamped at the corner of his eyes and the way his lips are spit-slicked and a little chapped. You’re so close to him, you’d be kissing him if you pressed upwards just a little more. But somehow, you can’t bring yourself to.

“You’re jealous.”

Everything in you screams you should deny the statement. But you can’t lie. The bond would tell him what your face hasn’t already.

“C-can you blame me?”

The words leave you in a puff of breath, barely audible over the clinking glasses and the whir of the jukebox in the corner.

“Why would you be jealous? I promise there’s no reason for you to be jealous. I promise, sweetheart.” There’s something almost knowing in his face.

“I - I should believe you, Bradley, but I don’t. There's no reason why I shouldn't be jealous of the girls who flirt with you who look like that.” You want to believe him, but the words aren't reassuring in the slightest. “E - especially when I know I’ve never once looked like that on my best days, forget my worst.”

He cups your cheek in his big hand, his skin hot against yours.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful, sweetheart.” He sighs, then, pressing his forehead against yours. “And you don’t even know it, do you? That first night? When you were chatting with Penny at the bar wearing that sundress? I couldn’t keep my eyes off of you. I was tracking you all night. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you ever since. You have a way of taking over the room with your presence. You’re so sure of who you are and what you’re capable of. You’ve never shied about going after what you want. I admire that about you. I adore that about you.”

“So trust me, beautiful, when I say you have nothing to worry about. You never have and you never will. I know it in my very soul.”

This? This is exactly why it took less than two months for you to fall head-over-heels in love with your soulmate. He always seems to know what to say to make you see things in a different way. All of a sudden, it feels like there isn’t anyone else in the room. The noise of the jukebox, of the Daggers squabbling in the background fades away. All you want in that moment is your soul. But just before you fling yourself into his arms, the shattering of glass jolts you out of your feelings. You're too close to Bradley Bradshaw - too close for a pair of colleagues sharing a late night drink after a long day. Were you both anywhere else, you would have kissed him already, given your preoccupation with the taste of him, the scent of him, the feel of him.

Instead, you murmur, “I'm heading out, Roo. I've got this terrible headache and I should probably turn in early for the night.”

You know he's looking at you with those big, deep brown eyes, trying to get you to meet his gaze, convince you to stay for another drink, another chat, another laugh. But you can’t. You're at the end of your rope. If you were to fall now, loosen your grip on the chains keeping you in check, it would result in the destruction of your efforts. The Daggers barely acknowledge your goodbyes, too absorbed by the game of pool happening before their eyes. Penny wraps you in a motherly embrace as you pay your tab, enquiring fussily if you need her to call a cab. With every move you make, you feel eyes on you. You know exactly who it is, your soul, watching eagle-eyed as you collect your bag and walk out to your car. You know it’s that old Bradshaw chivalry rearing its head, something Mav told you Goose had exhibited with Carole his whole life.

So, of course, you're not alone in the sea-perfumed night air for long. Footsteps disturbing gravel follow you as soon as you step out of the pool of light cast by The Hard Deck’s lamps, hints of sandalwood scent curling around you on the breeze.

“C'mon, sweetheart. Don't I even get a kiss goodnight?” He's wheedling, enticing. Damn him, because you ache for his skin in a way you're not sure you could ever voice. He’s weakening your resolve with every step in your direction.

“There isn't even anybody watching!”

“Who said I was saying goodnight, Roo?” 

The shell-shocked look on his face makes you giggle as you start your car and drive away from The Hard Deck. The roads are deserted, but not for long. Only seconds later, you hear the growl of an engine and smile at the sight of a blue truck pulling up behind you. Your phone chirps with a text as you idle at a stoplight.

This time, I'm not letting you go.

This time, you muse as the light changes, you don’t intend to let him walk out the door so easily.

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN ON TUMBLR, WATTPAD, OR AO3 BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN ON TUMBLR, WATTPAD, OR AO3, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

Taglist:

@roosters-girl @infamous-reindeer @caitsymichelle13 @mattyskies

@cosmic-psychickitty @mygyn @julesclues @greenbaby12

@bubblegumbeautyqueen @briseisgone @soulmates8 @meganlpie

@captain-fandomwriter58 @caidi-paris @mazzbarnes @super-btstrash-posts

@eli2447 @chaoticassidy @kmc1989 @abaker74

@marvelouslyme96 @faithiegirl01 @shanimallina87 @harrysgothicbitch

@zombicupcake3 @djs8891 @bellaireland1981 @tsumudoll

@scoliobean @desert-fern @horseshoegirl @dakotakazansky

@sarahsmi13s @teacupsandtopgun @roosterforme @cherrycola27

[empress-simps]

Danger Meter [3]

》Assumptions《

■Pairings: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader

■Pronouns: She/Her Fem!Reader

■Warnings: Language, also probably some medical inaccuracies

■Genre: Soulmate Au! Angst and Fluff

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

》 Masterlist 》 Bradley's Masterlist

》 Previous 》 Next

"Is she alright?"

"Lieutenant L/n is very lucky. She only sustained a few bruises, and a gash on her face. We would like to keep her overnight so we can continue to monitor her."

"I see... Thank you, doctor."

"The pleasure is all mine. I'll get going now, Lieutenant."

You heard the voices talking back and forth stop as you slowly tried to open your eyes— immediately shutting it as the bright flourescent light from the ceiling temporary blinded you.

"Where.. Am.. I?"

You could feel your throat was dry and your voice came out hoarse, cracking at the end.

"Y/n! Y/n! Can you hear me?"

Scrunching your brows, you snapped. "Can you stop shouting? I'm not deaf, statefarm. I'm surprised you got into heaven too." Your voice coming out softer than what you intent to be. You slowly opened your eyes again as you tried to adjust to the brightness of the room.

Hangman sighed, quite relieved. "Glad you're still the same. You're not dead, you're in the hospital. Also, excuse me?"

"You're excused."

"And here I was, about to grab you some water so you can properly talk." He scoffed, you looked at him and cracked a small, playful smile. "Do be a dear and get me one, Seresin."

Hangman grumbled but still complied, you took a long sip from the straw as he assisted you. "Thanks, Hangman. I appreciate it."

He flashes you with his signature smile, "Anytime, Crash. Just don't pull shit like that again." You rolled your eyes.

"I'm serious, all of us were about to have a heart attack."

"Sorry 'bout that." You took a second to scan the room for any sign of your best friend. "Where's Bob?" You asked, curious on where he is.

"He passed out."

"What?"

"I know. He'll be here soon." As soon as Hangman said that, a knock was heard along with 'Are you sure this is where she is?' Most likely from Bob.

You chuckled, "Yeah Robby, this is my room. Come on in." You heard the doorknob turn and there he was, your bestfriend who was not pleased as he scanned your current state. Hangman excused himself as he got called by Coyote.

Pheonix raised an eyebrow at you as she, and surprisingly Rooster entered your room, following Bob. "You and Bagman? Since when?"

You looked at her incredulously. "What? We're not together."

"Then why is he in your room?"

"Oh I don't know, let me guess— he's probably checking on me since I'm his wingman?" You asked sarcastically while Bob fretted over you like a mother hen.

"Hey Rooster, how are you?"

You cracked a small smile as you greeted your crush fellow naval aviator. Rooster smiled back, "Shouldm't I be the one asking you that, Crash?" He chuckled, resulting in you to blush and laugh. "Well, I think you already know I feel like shit."

"But you don't look like one."

"Tell that to me when I don't have this gauze on my cheek." You chuckled, trying not to let him see you flustered at his compliment.

Bob and Pheonix shared a knowing look to each other, which went unnoticed to you and Rooster .

"We were worried about you, Y/n/n." You heard Bob say. Turning to him, you sighed. "Sorry, Robby. I was quite scared myself too, I thought it was the end of me." You looked down at your hands. Noticing how the room changed into a more serious atmosphere.

"I probably scared my soulmate half to death too." You joked as Bob shaked his head. "I think you did."

Rooster perked up, you and Bob aren't soulmates?

As stupid as it sounds, he tried his best to look for your wrist secretly. Trying to see your mark. What he didn't expect was he felt his mark pulse when he saw yours.

He took a step back. What in the world? Why does he feel his mark pulse?

"Rooster? You okay?" Pheonix asked, taking note of his sudden change in demeanor. You and Bob looked to Rooster, seemingly confused.

"U-uh yeah, I just— I remembered I need to talk to Maverick about something." He mumbled as he took another step back before turning and leaving the room.

Bob could already sense the hurt and dissappointment rolling off you in waves. Pheonix furrowed her brows

"What is up with him?"

Rooster knew that was the most pathetic excuse he has given in his entire life.

Not only was it a half-baked plan, his body language gave it away. Hell he didn't even know why he told he'd be talking with Maverick, when he knows that they know there's a tension between them two.

He found himself walking into hard deck, going straight to the bar. Not paying attention to Penny and Maverick flirting across him.

"Bradshaw." He heard an all too familiar southern voice called out. Bradley turned to look around and saw Hangman from the table, a knowing smile on his face.

Rooster already know how this is going to go.

"Hangman." He mumbled, turning back his attention to the bar about to order a drink.

"You know, a little bird told me what happened while y'all were listening to us on the radio earlier." Hangman said, slowly coming over to where Rooster's at.

"And I heard something.. strange." Jake smiled, circling around Rooster as if he was a predator. Rooster looked at him, "I don't want to hear any of your bullshit, Hangman."

"Oh, don't worry Bradshaw. I won't take up too much of your time. I just wanna.. ask something." Jake said, an unknown glint present in his eyes. Without even letting Bradley speak, he continued.

"Your mark turned dark red to black. Didn't it, Bradshaw?"

Rooster felt his body went rigid as he heard those words uttered out by Hangman. He looked at the smirking blonde with anger slowly consuming him.

He heard Hangman laugh, "Don't even try denying it, Bradshaw. You already gave it away."

Bradley looked at him, eyes seething in anger. "What is it to you, Hangman?" The Texan boy hummed, "Well because I know who you suspect your soulmate is."

"That is none of ypur concern-"

"Oh but it is, especially if it's about her." Hangman's expression turned serious, as he stared down his fellow naval aviator.

Bradley looked at him, "I don't even know who you're referring to-"

"Crash. Don't fucking deny it, Bradshaw. I know you think she's your soulmate."

Rooster balled up his fists, every ounce of his being trying not to punch Hangman. Out of the corner of his eye, Coyote, Fanboy, and Payback slowly started to gather around him and Hangman, readying themselves in case a fight breaks out.

"What if she is? What are you gonna do about it?" Rooster challenged, standing up from his seat as he came closer to Hangman, not breaking their stare.

Hangman smirked, "I'll make sure you won't even lay a finger on her to find out."

Taglis [Closed] : @auszimbo @twsssmlmaa

[nixies-creations]

Title: Oh, The Fun We (I) Have. Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw/Jake Seresin. Rating: Spicy/No Archive Warnings Apply. Tags: Soulmates Share Connections; Soulmates; Established Relationship; Married Hangster; Jake "Hangman" Seresin is a Little Shit; Alternate Universe; Alternate Universe - Soulmates; Alternate Universe - Star Trek Fusion; Flustered Bradley Bradshaw; Edging. Word Count: 639. Created for @topgunalternateuniverse Square Filled: Soulmates: Share Orgasms. 

Summary: 

Jake has some fun with his husband, while he waits for him to get off shift.

Read On Ao3.

[flowersonmymind1016]

Alpha/Omega Soulmate Hangster AU anyone?

[bearsinpotatosacks]

I'm not usually one for soulmate AUs but a top gun soulmate AU where you don't see colour until you see your soulmate and you stop seeing colour when they die is making me want to cackle evilly. The idea of Carole going about her day, maybe she takes Bradley to the beach, watches the waves and feels the yellow-white sand between her toes, she looks at the endless blue sky and wonders if Goose is high enough to see then as little dots on the sand.

And then everything goes black and white and she can't even begin to process her heartbreak

[startrekfangirl2233]

Tag Game + Seven Lines

Thanks for the tags @horseshoegirl! I've been tagged to share seven lines from a WIP. Here is a bit from Chapter 1 of You Are My Soulmate!

The stranger leaves his hands on your waist for several long moments. You're barely breathing. With each shallow breath you take, you can feel the heat of his big hands searing into your skin. You can see the flashes of gold in his whiskey eyes this close to him. 

You feel this intense urge to kiss him and are slightly surprised. Your mark containing your soul's physical features and song is checked off, but you're still unsure if he's your soul. But you desperately want to kiss this cocky, gorgeous stranger. You feel this intense ache to feel his mustache press against your skin and numb your lips as he kisses you wantonly, urgently.

No pressure tags: @footprintsinthesxnd, @desert-fern, and @sarahsmi13s!

[callsignrooroo]

Surprise!! Here it is! The soulmate au turned passion project! I hope you all love it as much as I do!

[finnydraws]

Bowline (B.B/Reader)

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw/Reader (slight jake/reader)

a/n: big shout out to @vivwritesfics who helped me with figuring out the plot in my head and finding a name for Jakes soulmate, I probably wouldn't have gotten back into writing fan fiction with them

Word count; 2574 (!!)

description: Bowline knot: a fixed knot used to tie a square sail to the bow of a ship to keep the sail from being taken by the wind.

Nobody said having a soulmate was easy

genre(s) Soulmate au, angst, slight hurt/comfort, rebound dating

warnings: implied age gap (rooster is canonically 38, reader can be read as anyone 20-25) implied sexual content, rebound dating, cheating, canon character death 

Bradley doesn’t remember when his string finally attached to another person. He remembers being a kid and asking his mom why it was short, hanging limp from his ring finger and so close to him he could see the end, but no soulmate. She would always console him, tell him the universe was just taking its time on his special someone. His mother didn’t like to talk about her own string however, at least not after his father died. If he asked her though, she would regale him with stories of her short time living with her soulmate, how when they first met Nick had attempted to tie the string into a heart but failed so miserably Carole spent the first two hours of knowing him trying to unknot it through her laughs. She would never tell him how when she looked down to see the frayed end of her string her heart almost stopped in the grocery store. All Bradley remembered was looking down some time in his teens, and suddenly having a person on the other end of it, suddenly having a person fated to love him. When he entered the naval academy he hated that string. Hated how he was so scared of leaving whoever was on the other end like his mother, forever staring at that damn torn string and mourning a person they might have ripped from them too soon. Learning to fly only made him hate it more. He was too cautious, too distracted by the tug on that damned tug to fly properly at first. His first deployment was the worst, the string getting pulled so taut that he thought it might cut his finger. His flying got better after that deployment but his thoughts about soulmates were only solidified.

He hated soulmates.

This wasn’t fair. Why is he being forced to love someone he's never met? Why is he fated to think about how every time he gets in an aircraft, he could hurt them as bad as his mother was? Bradley probably spent days of his life trying to untie that cursed string.

You never had that apprehension, from the moment you were born the string stretched into the unknown, moved, was alive. You grew up experimenting with that poor little red string, trying to see how tightly you could pull it, how far you could run before you felt even a smidge of movement. In middle school, when the first boy showed you any interest, you demanded he show you his string before you would date him. And when you saw no red on his finger, you told him you didn't want to waste anyone's’ time when you weren’t destined to be together. Your string only pulled tighter on your finger after that day. To you your soulmate wasn’t the same burden Bradley saw you as. His existence being a gift for you to unwrap when the universe felt you deserving. So, you decided to do whatever you could to make yourself ‘worthy’ of your soulmate. Going to the naval academy straight out of high school and entering the United States navy as an aircrewman mechanical officer and spending any and all time you could doing anything to help those around you. Tutoring, volunteering, anything you could to learn more about people. Anything you could to bring you closer to him.

It was always interesting when you felt the string fluctuate between tightening and going lax on your finger, every deployment forcing you to think of where in the world your soulmate could be. When stationed in a country besides your own you wondered if that string would even loosen. On the deck of the ships you've been on would it tighten as you spent months on the sea?

Some deployments were weirder than others, you would swear up and down that the whole time you were on the ship your string would stay loose enough to slip from your finger if you wanted to. You never tried. On those deployments you tried to pay extra attention to who was on the ship with you, you tried to see if you followed the string if you could find him more than once only to come up empty. This surprised you at first, it's a finite space, surely someone would have the other end, would the vast sea hide the string? Pull it underwater and out of your view, even if it hadn’t on any of your other deployments? But no, every time you would leave the ship alone, not having noticed the string tightening as the pilots took off. Not wanting to think your soulmate was avoiding you.

But he was. The second he discovered you were his soulmate, Bradley informed any friends he could trust to understand his stance on soulmates and created a system. He had a look out at all times, someone there to warn him you were near, or distract you long enough for him to make a quick get-away. His whole system crashed when he arrived back on deck after the uranium mission, everyone was too busy celebrating his and Petes survival for anyone to notice your eyes zeroing in on the red string on his hand. At first, you’re ecstatic to finally have the missing piece to your puzzle, the giant keyring finally producing the key to your lock.

It's only then you notice him actively avoiding you. You count at least five times before the ship docks back in San Diego

The first is immediately after you find out he’s your soulmate. He catches your eye and slinks off in the dispersing crowd, removing his helmet at some point to blend in a little better with the other sailors and pilots.

The second is later that night, you approach him on the way to eat and get cut off by Jake, who insists on standing so Bradley is just out of your line of sight no matter how many times you try to side step him. You don't pay attention to a word he says, you don't respond either, but the heartbroken look you don the second you realize Bradley has slipped from your grasp nearly makes Jake give up on his quest then and there.

You almost catch him the third time, running into him by accident as he leaves the shower talking with a sailor you can’t remember the name of. He pretends not to hear you calling out for his attention. Pretends like you're not calling out for ‘the man with the mustache’ since you don’t know his name. The sailor he's speaking with questions him on it but Bradley excuses it as having not heard you.

By the fourth time you try and get his attention you've nearly given up. You learned his name and callsign from an aviator on deck not aware of his plan on avoiding you his whole life. Bob feels terrible for you when you inform him what’s going on between you and his friend, and readily gives you the information, making a mental note to chew Rooster out for hurting an innocent person, for never explaining himself. You approach Bradley when he’s just barely sat for dinner, expecting him to stay seated at least, but nope! The second you call his name He stands and leaves. What hurt the most was the sad looks his friends give you as you stand at the end of the table, doing your best to keep your bearings and not cry in front of the dining hall.

The last time you count him ignoring you it’s about an hour later, when he catches you crying and trying to pry the string off your finger, begging whatever higher power to give you a soulmate who would love you back. Begging for answers to what you did so wrong to deserve this.

He doesn't comfort you.

After that night you stop counting. You stop trying to speak to him, just stare at the string and hate it, hate who's on the other side. It isn’t until several months after the deployment you see him again, out at the hard deck flirting with a girl in a skirt that hugs all the right places, in a shirt that makes her chest pop. Rooster isn’t looking at her eyes. The brandy in your hand is downed quickly while you ignore the sting of a drink meant to be sipped. You really try to hate her for the way she was able to get so close to your soulmate. Closer than you’ve ever been.

It could have been the alcohol, or the heartbreak that spurred you to find a rebound, you aren’t quite sure. All you could think was finding someone to dull your pain, to be your firsts, to hurt him like he hurt you. Your brain, ever the genius, lands on Jake. Before you can change your mind, you steel your nerves, bee line for the all-American man, and pull him out to the beach by his wrist. He seems to be just as drunk as you feel because as soon as you stop his hands are on your hips, and he's asking, “what can I do for such a pretty girl?” he practically purrs in your ear as his hands start to wonder at your sides.

You aren't expecting your own quiet voice to respond with “take me to bed pretty boy, make me forget.” you lay your own shaking hands against his biceps leaning into his chest and hold on tightly, afraid if you pull away even a little bit you’ll lose him too. Jake is all too happy to agree, pulling you to his truck and taking your firsts, the entire time you try not to think about Bradley, or the red string on your finger shackling you to him forever.

This dance with jake goes on for months, the two of you do on a date that ends at the hard deck, you hang onto him all night while you steadily get more drunk (if this bothers rooster he doesn't show it) and when you feel that the two of you are drunk enough you beg him to take you home and sleep with you. The whole time he does you try not to think about how badly you wish it was your soulmate sleeping with you. After about 4 months of this the pain of Bradley not wanting you starts to fade enough that you can start joking with the pilots at the hard deck, you’re more comfortable staying sober in the presence of Bradley, more comfortable thinking of Jake as your boyfriend. You make some great friends during this time; Bob and you get along so well that you begin Friday night movie nights. With Jake and you beginning to rebuild your opinions on love. You’re happy with him for about a year before he meets Rosie.

There’s nothing off with your relationship with Jakes after he first meets her, he takes a little longer to answer your texts, sure, but then again, he always took forever to answer. He doesn't invite you out to the hard deck as much but then again you don’t always have to be with your boyfriend. You actually don't notice anything is off until Bob calls you from the hard deck and asks you nicely to join him for a drink. It’s when you arrive that you notice something off, hanging off Jakes’ arm is the perfect, glowing woman. The two of them seem so perfect together that you already know why Bob called you over. You appreciate him for uncovering the truth for you, but this appreciation doesn’t fix the sharp pain in your heart at seeing the happy new couple.

You barely even hear the shout of your name as you swiftly walk out the doors of the Hard deck and onto the beach, you barely notice that it's Bradley running after you and not Bob. When you do notice him, you anger starts to simmer in your stomach and you turn on your heel to face him “What, Bradley. What could you possibly want from me now.” you bark at him, not waiting for his response. “YOU’RE the one who didn't want ME, remember? I tried to get to know you, I tried to be it for you. And you didn’t want it. And now I'm trying to be alone just like you wanted and yet, here you are!” By this point the anger in your stomach is boiling over, spilling into your soul and slowly infecting it. You let out a loud, drawn-out groan “It's not FAIR, what have I done! What did I do to you?” The yelling is hurting your head, you thought you ran out of tears to cry over Bradley years ago but here they are, threatening to spill over. “Why don't you love me? I'm supposed to be yours…” your voice breaks, and so does the dam. Tears flow from you freely now and you drop to your knees sobbing.

“It's not you.” he softly promises to you “When-” Bradley takes a deep breath before beginning again “when my dad died, it broke my mom. She couldn't truly be happy without him, no matter what we did.” Bradley begins to silently toy with the red string as he speaks to you softly, like a wounded animal he risks spooking off. “At first, I didn't have to worry about leaving anybody behind, I didn't have a soulmate, so I always planned on flying. But then I looked down one day and there it was, going all the way to you.” The word vomit from Bradley isn’t seeming to stop, he explains everything to you, from how his mom felt after the death of his dad to the fear he felt when he first started flying. How if he flew too far the string would tighten and all he could think about was putting this faceless person through the same thing his mother went through. The entire time he’s tying a knot in the string, untying it, and retying the same knot.

“This is a bowline knot.” he states after being silent for a moment “Mav taught me it. Sailors used to use it to keep the wind from blowing the sail away. I'm not very good at it.” he laughs softly and begins to wipe the drying tears off your face “I'm not good at relationships either. But I'm willing to try. I want to try not to get blown away in the wind.” he inches closer, peering into your eyes. “Will you let me try? Will you let me make it up to you?” you can’t muster up the strength to speak, instead nodding your head. Bradley leans in, just a little further softly kissing you while cupping your cheeks. It's not what you thought kissing your soulmate for the first time would be like, there were no fireworks or life changing revelations. It wasn’t overly Passionate, like you would never get this chance again, you weren't used to the feel of his mustache yet. It was just a kiss, an awkward kiss, but it held so much promise, promise to stick around, to work it out. It was like he was trying to communicate all the emotions he didn't know how to articulate to you. So much that you're inclined to believe him.

[gennyanydots]

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw/Jake 'Hangman' Seresin Masterlist

One-Shots/Drabbles

I’m just now feelin’ feisty - 18+ Bradley is such a good boy but you? You’re a brat through and through. Your poor daddy. Hangster x F!reader

I wanna feel good tonight - 18+ Jake makes good on his promise to buy you the strap on you wanted. Follow up to I'm just now feelin feisty Hangster x F!reader

Only choice was to swallow pride - 18+ Jake has had a hard week and has Bradley worried while you're thinking maybe he just needs knocked down a few pegs. Follow up to I wanna feel good tonight Hangster x F!reader

Connected One-Shots/Two-Shots

Series

Oh Sweet Divine Predicament masterlist - Bradley’s not sure he believes in all this soulmate crap. Sure, he’s had most of his friends meet their soulmate but whose to say it wasn’t just happenstance. Soulmate!au no reader

*Do not copy, repost, or translate my writing even with credit.

*Reblogs and replies make writers happy and more likely to write more.

[the-ace-with-spades]

I'll never write it so gonna post the abandoned idea for it here (also as a reminder, all my fic ideas are for grabs unless stated otherwise so if someone wants to pick it up, be my guest)

Red strings of fate/Soulmates AU

You are connected to your soulmate by a red thread only you and your soulmate can see and touch (and cut). When your soulmate dies, the thread solidifies and becomes heavier, as long as the distance between the soulmates was the time one of them died — almost like a chain.

Jake and Bradley find out they're soulmates early on in flight school — it's hard not to when the thread pulls tauter and tauter until they finally meet in the same classroom and they can see the other end of the thread for the first time.

There's fascination, there's the thrill of sneaking around (they should disclaim it, as soon as they learn, so it can be put in their records, but they never do) and everything is new and bright. They start to treasure the string, turning around their fingers and finding joy in noticing the other end twitching and pulling — with time, they notice the motions translate over the tread no matter how far away they are.

They make up a system of pulls and tags, using Morse code and it becomes something else, they become something else — in the air, wordlessly in sync, on the ground, talking to each other whenever they want, during sleepless nights and separate schedules and long-distance deployments.

Until.

Things start getting complicated. Bradley has commitment and abandonment issues, Jake's an all-or-nothing type of guy and just being soulmates isn't enough.

They go their separate ways. Bradley still, sometimes, when he can't sleep and the night makes him feel like nothing has a sense or a purpose, sends little messages down the thread. He never gets replies.

The day they meet again at the Hard Deck, Jake suspects Bradley is coming for the same assignment. The string’s been getting lighter and lighter the whole night, dropping down, no longer stretched to its limit.

They try to ignore the string the whole time the training goes on, but Mav still suspects. He doesn't say anything, but he feels like history is repeating itself.

When Mav and Bradley are arguing in the debriefing room and Warlock comes in, he doesn't say anything but Mav looks down at his own wrist and his face turns white and Bradley knows at that moment.

(Whether Mav and Ice are soulmates and married or they are soulmates but Ice still married Sarah, that's up for discussion).

During the whole funeral, Mav rolls the invisible thread around his wrist, moving onto his arm when it's not enough.

It's at that moment — Bradley decides Jake will never have to do the same.

The minute he turns around for Mav, he makes up a plan in his head.

They find each other in the snow, and argue, but by the end of it, Mav is making up a crazy plan and they'll try to return in one piece. Try being the keyword.

He pulls on the string, the thread between his thumb and index finger.

Mav frowns. "What are you doing?"

"Sending a message before we go."

He repeats it, just in case Jake hasn't realized in time to catch the whole thing at first. And then he starts looking through the pockets of his life vest.

“He’s not walking around with a dead man’s chain, Mav.”

Mav tries to stop him the second he realizes what Bradley is going to do but it's too late — with the same knife he cut his parachute off, he cuts off the thread, close to his wrist, letting it fall limping into the snow, red almost looking like droplets of blood.

It takes Jake a minute to realize that the tagging is a physical feeling, not just wishful thinking formed by his imagination.

The carrier deck is a mess, the foxtrot teams returned, Phoenix is now arguing with the admirals about Rooster's position — he might not be dead, sir — and the ringing in Jake's ears doesn't stop until he looks down at his wrist, and sees the string moving, the pulling a rhythmic, well-known motion.

Aloud, breaking up the vivid discussion about Maverick and Rooster's status, he says, “Rooster is alive, he’s—he’s talking,” and it almost feels like it's someone else using his voice.

“What do you mean, Hangman? His comm is silent.”

“Can feel it on the string, it’s still red and he’s— he’s tugging in Morse code,” he says. He closes his eyes and lets himself be pulled by the wrist. “S-O-R-R—Sorry, he’s—sorry and—and—I-L—Shit, no.”

I-L-Y

The string flops down, loose. “No—”

He cut it. He cut it because it's still red and not gray but still too limp and he knows it. His wrist feels too light, too free.

When Bradley lands on the carrier, his wrist is bare and the thread pools around Jake's feet. It doesn't magically reconnect when they touch, when they shake hands.

Jake tries to desperately find the other end, carrying rolls and piles of it with him as he follows Bradley to the med bay.

“Jake, just—just cut it,” he tells him. “It’s going to connect you again in a day or two.”

Jake ignores him, pulling miles and miles of the thread into circled piles next to Bradley's bed. He can't see the floor — it's just red and red and nothing else.

“No,” is all Jake says. “Not to you.”

It'll find him a new match, connect the thread to someone else, to someone who isn't Bradley.

"Bring me some scissors," Bradley says. He almost feels bad, when Jake's gaze turns up to him, glaring with shiny eyes. "Just do as I say for once."

Wordlessly, looking like it pains him, Jake brings him disposable scissors.

Bradley grabs his hand before he can move away, pulls about three feet of the thread from the pile, and cuts off the excess on the floor.

He wraps it around his own wrist, the string thin and soft, and a little clumsily ties it into a loop over his arm. When he leans away again, the thread takes a second, taut, and then stretches with the distance, like it has always done.

Jake stares at it, too focused and too absent. "That's the shittiest knot I've ever seen."

Bradley huffs. "Well, you gotta learn to live with it."

[callsigncurse]

Call Sign Chaos - (Pete "Maverick" Mitchell x Reader)

[Part One of the 'Agents of Chaos' series]

Character Stats:

Personality is quiet, sweet - but will stand up for your friends/yourself if pushed too far. Very confident when it comes to your flying.

Best friend is your RIO, Lieutenant Joshua "Agent" Evans.

Raised in a small town in Oregon (this will be important-ish later)

Universe: Soulmates AU - When you come into contact with the one you're meant to be with, your invisible string shows itself to you, tying you to that person forever. Your soulmate can read your mind, and you can talk to each other telepathically (and, subsequently, block each other out), as well as feel the other's presence, no matter how far apart you are.

Words: 2.4K

Warnings: None that I know of, but if you see anything, please let me know!

part two →

---

"Listen, I'm just saying. You could do a lot worse than Seresin." Josh was walking beside you on your way to a meeting. "I mean, you haven't dated in good long while. I'm starting to worry about you."

Your amusement is evident when you turn your head to face him. "Seriously, J? You're trying to set me up with the Navy's number one playboy?" While you appreciated your best friend's concern, there was no way in hell you were going to pursue Jake "Hangman" Seresin.

"Oh, c'mon, he's not that bad." He sounded unconvinced, even to himself, and it pulled a laugh from you as you entered the classroom. "I mean, he's hot, isn't he?"

"I mean, sure." You relent. "But I'm not looking to mess around right now, you know? I want to wait for my soulmate." The last half of your sentence was more whispered than said, and the look your RIO gave you was one of worry. 

You took a seat next to Josh in preparation for the meeting. You were barely listening as your instructor for the mission was announced. You knew the callsign, of course. Captain Pete "Maverick" Mitchell was an absolute legend in the Navy. He was your instructor for this mission, the one that was top secret, which surprised you. He was pretty well known to never follow the rules set in place. He listened to no one but himself.

You started paying more attention when he started walking between the aisles of the tables you were sitting at. You caught sight of strong arms and a handsome face with messy black hair.

And when he reached the front and turned around, you caught sight of yet more of his strong, handsome face. He was a little on the older side, but still devastatingly gorgeous. When he removed his aviators, intense blue eyes met yours from across the room. Your breath left your lungs in a split second.

And because of the golden thread that was now gleaming against your skin, tying your wrist to his, he was also, evidently, your soulmate.

His eyes were blinking owlishly at you, confusion written in the gorgeous blue and in the tight line of his lips. The color of his string looked beautiful against the backdrop of the tanned skin on his left wrist. It was branded into him like a tattoo, just as it was on your right wrist.

You quickly slid your hand under your desk, sliding the sleeve of your flight suit down over your string. You looked around quickly, but it didn't seem like anyone else had seen anything. Rooster was too busy looking annoyed at Hangman; Hangman was snickering at him; and the rest were looking down at their desks or at each other.

To his credit, he didn't miss a beat. He copied you, sliding his flight suit sleeve down over his wrist. He played it cool, even if his intense gaze drifted to you constantly as he was talking.

---

It was hours later, and you were still walking around in a stupor. All you could think about was Captain Pete Mitchell. You could feel his presence, which was reassuring as the golden tattoo around your wrist pulsed. You weren't alone in the world anymore, because he was yours.

Just like you were his.

"Hey, Chaos. You wanna play some pool?"

The voice belonged to Rooster, and you looked up from your drink to see Bradley offering you a poolstick. You blinked at him for a second before you smiled. "Nah, I'm good. Last time I played pool here, I overshot majorly and broke a window."

"She totally did; Penny was not thrilled." Josh bumps into your side, his signature golden-retriever smile on his lips. "Basically banned her and me from playing from then on." 

Rooster found this outrageously funny, and you managed a meek smile as he and the others laughed at your antics. There was a reason why you and Josh were "Agent" and "Chaos." Agents of Chaos.

Your tattoo pulsed again, the string pulling tighter, and you turned your head toward the bar. Blue eyes were watching you, their intensity causing a shiver to roll down your spine. When he noticed you looking back at him, he offered a slight nod of his chin.

Well, at least he'd acknowledged you.

You copied him, lifting your drink up slightly. You wanted to go over to him, talk with him, and figure out just how you'd fit into his life. But the look on his face stopped you. He looked almost disappointed.

"It's not disappointment aimed at you." His voice was deeper and warmer in your head than it was out loud. It startled you, but you sat on your bar stool and listened carefully. "But you realize that this can't happen, right? This is a bad idea."

He watched as your mouth twisted into a devastating little pout, looking down at your drink now. He took a moment to study you, looking at your form-fitting blue jeans, your boots, and the shirt that hugged your curves. You were beautiful, and his chest ached with want.

"You don't even want to try?" You answered; your voice was now in his head, honeyed and sweet. He savored it. "If we explain what happened, Admiral Simpson can't keep us apart; there are laws against seperating soulmates."

"I know." He sighs in your head, and your eyes flick back from the drink in your hand to his face. He looks pained. "But Cyclone already hates me, and getting involved with a student would make things worse. We can't." 

Your throat suddenly felt too tight, the room too warm, and you suddenly just had to get out of there. You turn away, presenting Maverick with your back, and hand Josh your glass. "Hey, I'm feeling kind of tired. I think I'm going to head back a little early."

Josh hopped off his bar stool, concern for you in his deep brown eyes. "You want me to come with you?"

"Nah, I'll be alright. You stay and have fun, okay? I'll see you tomorrow." He looks like he wants to argue with you, but you gently push him back towards your friends. "Seriously, just go and have fun."

He sighs, but he knows it's pointless to argue with you, and he turns his attention back to a story that Hangman was telling. You turn away and start heading out when his voice fills your mind once again.

"Where are you going?"

You ignore him this time, slamming your mental block down so hard that you see him jolt in his seat from the corner of your eye, startled. 

It makes you feel a little bad, but you walk right past him and out the door of the bar. It's a cool night, with the ocean crashing nearby. You wish you'd had the foresight to grab a jacket before you'd left for the Hard Deck that night.

You make it maybe five minutes down the road when a motorcycle comes roaring up behind you, stopping a few feet away with dust flying all around.

"First of all," He steps off of the motorcycle, and the light from the streetlamp throws his face into shadows. "I probably deserved you shutting me out, but it fucking hurt." He's shrugging out of his bomber jacket and stepping into your space so he can throw it around your shoulders.

You're so startled by his sudden appearance that you let him.

"Second of all," he continues, "you should not be walking around out here alone. It's not safe. And without a jacket? C'mon, Chaos."

You open your mouth to argue; you're not a toddler. You're a fighter pilot in the United States Navy, for God's sake, but then he steps into your space a little more, and you get distracted by his eyes. His cologne dances with the wind, the scent of sandalwood and leather, and something that can only be described as him floods your senses.

He's staring at you now, his hands still on his jacket, and he's tugging it around you. You can feel the warmth of his skin bleeding into you, and it feels so right. You've never felt so at peace before, but when he's touching you it feels like everything is going to be okay.

"You did deserve it." You finally spoke up. He raises an eyebrow but lets you continue without interruption. "The Pete Mitchell I heard stories about in basic was fearless. Unstoppable. He always marched to the beat of his own drum."

He opens his mouth, but you push on. "And here you are, giving up on us before we even got started. All because you're scared of what, Admiral Simpson? Losing your job?"

"I'm not scared of him." He grumbles. "I have a responsibility to you and the rest of those kids whose lives are in danger because of this mission. I can't afford a distraction. And in case you haven't noticed, I'm a little too old for you."

You huff out an irritated sound, moving away from him so you have space to breathe. You can't think straight when he's so close. "Bullshit. I know you don't believe that."

"Look, obviously the universe made some kind of cosmic mistake here." He steps in toward you again, and you throw his jacket off and shove it back into his startled hands.

A mistake. Pete Mitchell, your soulmate, had just called your connection to him a mistake.

He tries to backtrack immediately when he sees the tears beginning to form in your eyes. He hadn't meant it that way, but he knows how it sounds, and he could feel your pain. You were wounded by his words.

"I'm so sorry." He murmured, watching you shiver and stare at the ground. "I really didn't—sweetheart, don't. Don't cry, please? I didn't mean it like that."

You're devastated, and you just shake your head. "Please go, Captain Mitchell." You don't use his call sign or his name, and somehow that feels wrong to him. All of this is making his head ache, but he doesn't move.

"At least let me take you home." His voice is soft. Tender, almost. You wipe your eyes and look back at him. "Please? I can't stomach the thought of you wandering around out here by yourself. Just let me get you home."

You almost say no. He'd rejected you twice and called you a mistake (whether he'd meant to or not, he'd still said it), and yet you found it hard to deny him anything. After a moment of hesitation, you nod slightly. "Okay." 

After practically ordering you to put his jacket back on so as not to catch your death, he helps you onto his bike, swinging his leg over and settling down with a practiced ease onto the seat in front of you. It's clear that he's been doing this for years. "You gotta hold on, sweetheart. Put your arms around me."

There's yet another moment of hesitation before you do as he says, sliding your arms around his waist. Your cheek rests against his back as he starts the bike back up and peels out onto the road.

The ride back to your place is tense. You want to relax into his warmth and cherish this time with him before it's gone for good. But there's no telling if he'll ever be this close to you again, and you don't want to get too close. You miss him already, and you quietly mourn the life you could've had with this man.

---

When the bike pulls into the driveway of your bungalow, you slide off quickly, nearly tripping and falling flat on your face. He catches you before you do, his strong arm sliding around you to keep you on your feet. Your shirt had ridden up, and you could feel his skin on yours. You did your best to ignore the warmth that was forming deep in your belly.

"Careful, sweetheart." He murmured, climbing off the bike. Suddenly, you felt small, looking up at him. "Don't want you getting hurt."

You huffed out a humorless laugh at that. "A little too late for that."

Turning your back, you left Captain Pete Mitchell in your driveway, watching your retreating form as he stood alone. He didn't let you get very far before he was moving your way.

"Can we please talk about this?" 

You were at the door, your hand resting on the surface. You don't bother to turn around. "What's there to talk about, sir? You made your decision perfectly clear. You don't want this. You don't want me."

"Hey, I never said that." His tone is stern, and that sound makes you swoon just the tiniest bit. "Did I say those words out loud to you?"

You lean your forehead against the door, rolling your eyes. "You didn't need to, Mr. 'This Is A Cosmic Mistake'." Your heart twinges again at the memory. You'd never felt that kind of sharp pain before.

He's so close to you that you can feel the warm air fanning over the back of your neck when he breathes out. His chest was very nearly pressed into your back, and his body heat cuts through the chill in the air.

His hand is on your shoulder, gently pulling you around to face him. You stubbornly refuse to meet his eyes, choosing instead to stare directly at his chest. This seems to amuse him, because he lets a soft chuckle escape his lips.

"I'm sorry." His thumb and pointer finger take your chin gently, tipping your head up so he can see your face. "I really am. I didn't mean that you were a mistake, sweetheart. I just meant..." He trails off for a moment before he continues. "I'm an old man. You deserve someone closer to your own age."

You shake your head, your hand coming up to wrap around his wrist. "Maverick, I don't care about the age gap." Your eyes meet his, finally, and he's blown away by the emotions he can see swirling in their depths. "I don't care that you're my instructor, and I don't care that you're the most stubborn man I've ever met. I want you."

He seems to be frozen in place, his hand still holding your face in place. His eyes are searching your face, almost like he's looking for something. When you resolve doesn't waiver, he sighs.

"You are something else." He says, his other hand coming up to cup your face. His thumb smooths over the skin of your cheekbone, and he leans his forehead against yours. He's still fighting an internal battle, but he gives himself this. A quiet moment with you.

---

This is just the beginning of Chaos and Maverick's story. Don't worry, dear reader. Maverick will come around.

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

You Are My Soulmate

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Reader

Status: In Progress

Last Updated: July 30th, 2024

Disclaimers: Female!Reader

A/N: This is a Soulmate!AU with a spin. Instead of having a single soulmark, a quarter of the population have multiple. Tinkerbell and Rooster are two of those people. I love Soulmate AUs, and well, the Top Gun Brain-Rot is still ever present, so here we go. This one is going to be a bit different for me, as I'm going to be trying out flipping perspectives within the chapters between Rooster and Tinkerbell (Reader's Nickname throughout the fic).

Themes: Angst, Smut, Soulmate!AU, Bradley is a bit of a dick, Rivals to Friends to Lovers, Unrequited Love (Slight, One-Sided)

Summary: You're ecstatic when you find out you have five soul indicators at midnight on the day of your twenty-first birthday, right before you start Officer Candidate School for the Navy in Rhode Island. OCS is so complex you can’t devote time to searching for your soulmate. On graduating from Officer Candidate School, Naval Aviation Command School, and Aviation Maintenance School at the top of your class, you are given the primary selection of detachment and travel worldwide as an Aviation Maintenance Duty Officer. The excitement you felt on your twenty-first birthday has changed over the past seven years, and you’re impatient to see who your soul is. After years of constant movement, it’s a relief to learn you have been assigned to run maintenance on a squadron’s planes out of Naval Air Station North Island. San Diego is sunny and gorgeous, an absolute dream after being stuck on an aircraft carrier in the middle of the ocean for the past six months. The Dagger Squad is a newly-permanent squadron based out of NAS North Island. Each member welcomed you to Miramar as a part of their maintenance crew with warmth and friendliness. Except for one pilot, callsign: Rooster. He’s the most unpleasant pilot you’ve ever met. He’s full of himself, cocky, arrogant, rude, and condescending. If only he didn’t feel so familiar. If only you didn’t feel so drawn to him. 

Bradley Bradshaw is sure he’s never going to find his soulmate. He’d been in mourning on his twenty-first birthday, still grieving the loss of his mother, followed by the loss of the only father he’d ever known, his Uncle Mav. It isn’t until Bradley is across the country at Officer Candidate School that he realizes he never received his soul indicators. Years later, and thousands of miles away, recovering from a plane crash, Bradley, now known as Rooster, jolts awake to the half-remembered scent of citrus and glistening hair in a thick braid. Without any other indicators, Rooster gives up. After all, who’d want a soul disfigured by something they loved? That’s when Bradley gives up. He sinks into the reputation of the piano-playing, mustachioed casanova and gives up on his dreams of finding a love like his parents had found in each other. And he’s content with his life until he runs into the feisty, loud AMDO officer newly assigned to NASNI. Something about her feels like everything Bradley’s been searching for, at least, if she weren’t completely committed to Bagman already. You can call him what you want, but Rooster doesn’t steal another man’s girl.

You Are My Soulmate on AO3

You Are My Soulmate on Wattpad

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2 - Tinkerbell

Chapter 2 - Rooster

Chapter 3 - Rooster

Chapter 3 - Tinkerbell

Chapter 4

Chapter 5 - Tinkerbell

Chapter 5 - Rooster

Chapter 6 - Tinkerbell

Chapter 6 - Rooster

Chapter 7 - Tinkerbell

Chapter 7 - Rooster

Chapter 8 - Tinkerbell

Taglist is Open!

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[empress-simps]

Danger Meter [1]

》Pulse《

▪︎Pairings: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader

■Pronouns: She/Her (Fem! Reader)

▪︎Warnings: Language

▪︎Genre: Soulmate Au! Angst and fluff

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

Note: This is my first time writing a tgm fic!! Kinda nervous! I hope y'all like it! It's been a long while since I took a break so I haven't really wrote anything (except for my research and stuff), my writing is probably a bit different now

》 Masterlist 》 Bradley's Masterlist

》 Next part

"I swear I'll beat up the son of a bitch, just they wait."

Any other normal person would've considered to stay away from you as you growled those words out loud— or would've asked if you were okay from a safe distance. Your bestfriend beside you stilled for a moment, wondering why you were so hellbent on fighting someone and.. who was it? Another naval aviator? Or your soulmate that you always complain about?

Robert Floyd looked over to where you're sitting, curious to what you'll complain about to him. He saw the mix of worry and anger swimming in your eyes as you continue to look at the rectangular strip on your wrist. Before he could even ask, you showed him the orange stripe which is slowly turning red.

On the day a person is born, there's a rectangular shaped color on their left wrist. The color ranges from green, yellow, orange, red, and black. These colors represent on how safe your soulmate is in their current situation. Green being they're completely fine, red means they're in a dangerous situation (which rarely happens for most cases), and black means that there's a high chance for them to get killed in the situation they're in. The stripe will glow when you made a physical contact with your soulmate.

Having the mark, you can deem it as both a blessing and a curse.

Bob scanned your wrist, his eyes clouding with confusion. Was your soulmate a secret spy? In the military? A criminal? Why are they always in danger? The possibilities are endless.

He has to admit that even though it isn't his soulmate, he can still feel a small sense of dread flooding into his system. What more of his best friend sitting beside him? He could only imagine. "I'm sure they'll be fine, it's not the first time. Have faith in them, y/n/n" He says, trying to comfort you as he pats your back gently— albeit a little akwardly, but that's just a normal Bob thing.

You sighed, stress visible on your face as you rubbed your temples. "I swear Robby, my soulmate could die before I even get to meet them." Your mid-western accent slowly surfacing at the end of your sentence. He watched you as you plopped down his bed, sighing loudly.

"Maybe they're doing it as a revenge? I probably scare them when I go on missions. But why would they endanger themself?" You ranted to yourself as Bob looked at you sympathetically. "Y/n/n, how about try getting some sleep? We have to leave for topgun early in the morning.." He said softly. You sighed, agreeing with him. He walked you over to the front of his family's house.

"I'll see you in the morning, Robby." You smiled, waving at him and going over to your house, which is directly across from his.

"Well what do we have here?"

The human ken doll asked, watching amusedly as you neared him and Coyote, Bob silently following behind you.

"Crash! My favorite pilot, missed me?"

Jake greeted you with (as you'd like to call it) his pretty boy smile, you rolled your eyes playfully as you neared the pool table. He gave you a wink as you sat the down next to Bob.

"Statefarm, I was dreading to be flying with you again actually." You shrugged, taking his newly opened beer. A sound of protest goes unheard as you took a swig of the beverage. "You're gonna buy me another beer, Crash. And It's Hangman. I thought we had something special?"

"Whatever." You waved him off, "Go play." Hangman rolled his eyes, you took some peanuts from Bob. "You talk to me as if I'm a dog. You wound me."

You looked up at him and asked, feigning innocence. "But, Isn't that what you are?" A chorus of 'Ooooh's were heard in the background. After a while, Phoenix, Payback, and Fanboy entered the mix.

"Who's he?" Pheonix's eyes darted to Bob who's sitting beside you. "Who's who?" Coyote asked, all of them looked at Bob simultaneously. "Since when did you get here?" Coyote followed up.

Bob looked at them and offered a smile "Oh I've been here with y/n/n." He motioned over to you.

"The man's a stealth pilot." Jake said. "Weapons System Officer, actually." Bob corrected, Jake nodded. "With no sense of humor."

"Hey! you mess with him, you mess with me." You warned them, slinging an arm around Bob. Hangman raised his hands, "I'm just saying."

"Well you better shut that damn mouth, statefarm." Jake just mumbled, talking about grabbing a few more beers and ringing it up on some old timer.

"What do they call you?" Pheonix asked, looking at Robert.

"Bob." He answered, Payback smiled. "No, your callsign."

"Uhhhh.. Bob."

"Bob Floyd, you're my new backseater? From Lemoore?" Pheonix asked, he smiled. "Looks like it, yeah." You patted Bob's shoulder. "I'll be right back, Robby. Just gonna get more beer." You said as you walked over to Penny, finding Jake as he ordered four more beers.

"And you-" he turned around to face you. "-Still owe me one beer." You smirked, "Make that two." As you grabbed one of the few beers he has. You decided to follow him back, seeing an unfamiliar guy sporting a hawaiian shirt and mustache which weirdly as it sounds— looks good on him. You don't know how long you'd been staring at him, time seemed to slow down when you laid your eyes on him.

The moment your eyes met feels like you got your breath knocked out of your lungs.

You're also pretty damn sure you felt the mark pulse.

This fic will have multiple parts! If anyone wants to be notified just send an ask or comment and I'll make a taglist, hope u enjoyed!

[nixies-creations]

Title: All Roads Lead To You. Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw/Jake Seresin. Rating: SFW/No Archive Warnings Apply. Tags: Alternate Universe; Alternate Universe - Modern Setting; Alternate Universe - College/University; Alternate Universe - Soulmates; Soulmates - Eye Color; Carole Bradshaw and Nick "Goose" Bradshaw Live; College Student Bradley Bradshaw; Soft; Fluff; Pre-Relationship; Alternate Universe - Road Trip; Hitchhiking Jake Seresin; First Meetings; Nervous Bradley Bradshaw. Word Count: 1260. Created for @topgunalternateuniverse Square Filled: Soulmate: Eye Color. 

Summary: 

“It’s you,” Bradley breathes out. Or, Bradley goes on a road trip back to home after finishing his third year at college and finds something special along the way.

Read On Ao3.