#rooster Bradshaw

[peachesandcreames]

Happy Thanksgiving, Fam!!! 💞💕

[scottishaccentsareawesome]

Rooster: When Jake looks at me, it does something to my insides. But I want this to be a relationship before (smirks) HE does something to my insides... Phoenix: If you keep talking about your "insides", I'm gonna kick you on your outsides.

[kcsplace]

Top Gun Silliness

[enthyrea]

dagger version of this post!! olympic au!!🥇

tried to match their characters/body types to appropriate sports <33

rooster as a fencer, hangman as an equestrian, coyote and hondo as track&field (sprinter and shot put), phoenix and bob as shooters, fanboy as a skateboarder, and payback as a judoka!

[tongue-like-a-razor]

Hotter Than Texas | Part II

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x F!Reader

A/N: I'm so excited that y'all loved the first part! Thanks for your enthusiasm, you rock <3

Summary: Bradley Bradshaw is tasked with transporting a not-so-delicate package in the form of Jake Seresin's baby sister, who turns out to be Bradley's dream girl worst nightmare.

Aka it's a road trip, strap in.

CW: swearing, age gap (10 years)

WC: 2000+

Part I | Masterlist

“I’m getting hungry.”

Bradley glances at the restaurant sign as he passes it on the interstate, suppressing a sigh. He usually skips lunch on long trips so he can arrive at his destination before nightfall. “I’ll get off at the next exit,” he says.

“Will you?” you exclaim excitedly, as though he’s offered to catch and cook your next meal himself.

Bradley chuckles mildly. “Well, I’m not going to let you starve.”

“You’re so sweet,” you reply, and Bradley eyes you with a grin because he’s about eighty percent certain you’re being facetious.

“What’re are you in the mood for?” he asks as he gets on the off-ramp.

“Something greasy and very bad for my heart.”

Bradley lets out a small laugh. What’s bad for his heart is you sitting next to him being all cute for the next twenty hours straight.

He pulls into the lot of a little diner just off the highway and parks his car while you flip down your sun visor to glance at your reflection in the mirror. “How do I look?” you mutter, mostly to yourself.

Bradley tries not to examine you directly and instead just glances in your vicinity. “Better than the truckers, I bet,” he comments, noticing the row of semis at the back of the lot.

You give him an unimpressed look and then push open your door. “I sure hope they have French toast.”

“I thought you wanted something greasy,” Bradley says, walking around the front of the Bronco to join you.

“I want options,” you state, marching forth toward the front doors.

Bradley strides ahead and pulls the door open for you. He can’t say he isn’t looking forward to having a sit-down meal with you, like it’s a date or something. And, as much as he hates to admit it, he’s almost thrilled at the prospect of the other patrons assuming the two of you are a couple.

You walk through the open door and Bradley stalls for a moment, trying to clear his head. He shouldn’t even be thinking about that sort of nonsense. He and Hangman have enough issues without adding Bradley’s crush on his baby sister to the mix. They’ve just begun to mend their bumpy – to say the least – relationship, and Jake would sure as shit not appreciate his colleague developing feelings for his younger sibling.

“You comin’, sugar?” you call from inside.

Bradley, who’s clearly taken too long of a beat, glances at you in a bit of a daze. He’s sure you just called him ‘sugar’ and that has utterly thrown him. He enters after you and gives the hostess a look that he hopes might resemble a polite smile. But his face feels hot and numb at the same time, so he can’t be sure.

…

“I think I’ll get the pancakes,” you muse, flipping through the menu leisurely.

Bradley smiles at you when you’re not looking. “Want to share some things?”

You glance up at him happily. “Can we?”

Bradley chuckles. “Why not? I could go for a pancake. What else should we get?”

Your eyes light up and you instantly refer back to the menu. “Fried pickles.”

Bradley cringes but he’s still amused. “Those’ll go great with the pancakes.”

“I agree,” you respond without a hint of sarcasm. “Chili?” you continue. “Or tacos?”

“Why not both?” Bradley shrugs.

You give him a serious look. “That’s just crazy talk.”

Bradley laughs. “You’re right, what was I thinking?”

“I sort of want some pie, though.”

Bradley closes his menu and leans forward into the table. “I’ve already thought of that,” he mutters under his breath, as though he’s about to divulge a secret. You lean in too, your bright eyes blinking up at him eagerly. “We’ll get one for the road,” he whispers.

You gasp. “You’re a genius!”

Bradley chuckles, leaning back in his seat proudly. “I won’t deny that.”

…

When the server arrives to take your orders, you let Bradley do the talking, but chime in with little requests now and again; onions on the home fries, maple syrup for the bacon, sour cream in the chili. And Bradley can’t help but delight in the fact that, every time you think of something, you tap his hand that's resting on the table, ‘oohing’ with excitement.

Bradley eyes you with a smile once the server departs. “Maple syrup for the bacon?”

You wave a hand at him. “You’ll see.”

Bradley shakes his head with a smirk. “Not on my bacon.”

“Yeah, my brother warned me that you’re a bit of a square.”

Bradley raises his eyebrows and scoffs. “Your brother said what?”

You grin at him mischievously. “Don’t worry, I can make up my own mind.”

“Your brother warned me that you’re a bully,” Bradley replies, his smile only getting wider. “And, coming from Hangman, that’s saying something.”

You let out a peal of laughter so exuberant that several faces turn to look in your direction.

“Don’t worry,” he adds when your laughter partially subsides. “I can make up my own mind.”

“And?” you ask with soaring eyebrows. “Have you?”

Bradley hesitates for a moment and then decides to respond in a cheeky manner to avoid any awkwardness. “Not just yet,” he says with a chuckle.

You reach out and lightly smack his forearm. “Stop!”

“I’m joking,” Bradley concedes, grabbing your hand before you can strike him again. “It’s not like you’ve ever hit me to get your way,” he says pointedly.

You shake your head with a smirk and withdraw your hand.

…

“Everything was delicious,” you gush to the waitress as she clears the table. “We had such a wonderful time!”

“Glad to hear that, dear,” the waitress gives you a smile and then winks at Bradley, as though she’s in on some scheme with him.

Bradley furrows his eyebrows in amusement as she walks away and then digs into his pocket for his wallet. “My treat,” he says when you reach for your purse.

“No way!” you exclaim. “You’re already giving me a ride. The least I could do is feed you.”

“You don’t have to do anything. I’m happy to be your ride.”

“I insist,” you declare.

“I insist harder,” Bradley presses, laying down several bills onto the receipt tray.

You gaze at him pensively and finally slide your wallet back into your purse. “So, you’re stubborn,” you note.

“So, you’re observant,” he remarks.

You chuckle, shaking your head. “Thanks for lunch, Rooster.”

…

Back on the road, you offer Bradley a turn with the radio, muttering something about not wanting to be a bully by hogging the music. He can tell you’ve said it in jest, but he still wants to make sure he hasn’t offended you.

“You know I don’t think you’re a bully, right?” he says, glancing between your face and the road several times.

You eye him playfully. “Well, give it a minute.”

Bradley chuckles. “It’s getting dark,” he notes after a little while. He was hoping to get farther on the first day, but the prospect of maybe spending an extra day with you on the road doesn’t seem nearly as daunting as it might have in the morning. “Want to stop for the night?”

“I can drive if you want,” you offer.

Naturally, Bradley overthinks your response. He wonders if maybe you’ve had enough of him and would prefer to get to Texas as soon as possible. “No, no,” he responds. “I can drive. I just thought you might be tired.”

“From sitting?” you quip.

Bradley gives you a flat look. “It’s been a long day.”

You shrug. “It flew by.”

That sets his mind at ease somewhat. A day doesn’t fly by unless you’re having a good time. “I think we should stop,” he says.

“Alright,” you respond, “let’s stop.”

…

“You two lovebirds want the mountain or city view?” the hotel’s front desk clerk enquires with a beam.

Bradley is about to explain that the two of you will, in fact, require separate rooms because you are the absolute opposite of lovebirds, when you respond with, “Mountain, please.”

The clerk hands you a key and Bradley follows you down the hall mutely, with both of your suitcases in tow. He’s not about to dispute your decision to share a room, despite knowing that it’s exactly what he swore he’d avoid doing the moment he laid eyes on you.

You open the door and enter, holding it open for Bradley so that he can bring in the luggage. He sets it down gingerly by the door and straightens his back to look around. The are two double beds against the wall and a large window with a spectacular view of the Santa Catalina range.

You flop down on one of the beds with a contented sigh. “You know what, darlin’? I am tired.”

Bradley watches you climb further up the bed and rest your head on one of the pillows. He’s used to you calling him all sorts of terms of endearment at this point, but it still warms his heart each and every time you do. “No dinner tonight, sweetheart?” he responds, adopting your speaking style on a trial basis.

You lift your head from the pillow. “Let’s just order in?”

You seem unfazed by the fact that Bradley just called you sweetheart. Meanwhile, he’s nearly thrown up from the anxiety it’s caused him. He resolves not to call you that – or any other overly-friendly name – ever again. “Yeah, we can do that,” he responds casually. “Pizza?”

You nod. “With barbeque chicken.”

“You got it.”

…

“Did you always want to be an aviator?” you ask, taking a bit of pizza while dusting crumbs off the bedspread.

The two of you are sitting cross-legged atop one of the beds with the open pizza box between you. Bradley grabs another slice. “Pretty much.” He doesn’t really want to get into specifics, because that means being vulnerable, a state which Bradley does not much enjoy.

“Interesting.”

“What about you?” he asks. “What are you studying?”

“Math.”

Bradley nearly chokes. For some reason, he expected something less cerebral. “Are you going to be an accountant, or something?” he asks with a smirk.

You frown slightly. “I sure hope not.”

“Well, what do you want to be?”

“A good person,” you respond thoughtfully.

Bradley lowers his pizza and stares at you. “You are a good person,” he says hoarsely.

You shrug. “I have my days.”

“I mean, I don’t know you very well,” Bradley reasons. “But you seem great. Much better than your brother.”

You laugh and lower your gaze. “Aren’t you a sweetheart?” you say warmly.

Bradley can feel his heart pounding like a double bass drum. The only sweetheart in this room is you and he can hardly keep that to himself. To think that you might be doubting your own integrity is affecting Bradley on a near-physical level. “You’re a good person. Anybody who tells you otherwise is an idiot,” he states.

You smile, still looking downward. “Thanks.”

“You don’t need to thank me.”

You place your half-eaten slice of pizza back into the box and fall back into the pillows, sighing dramatically. “I’m stuffed!”

Bradley, who’s just taken his final bite, mutters around the crust in his mouth. “Me too.” He closes the pizza box and picks it up to set it onto the floor by the bed. Then, he moves to the other bed and lies down on his back with a weary exhale.

“Hey, Rooster,” you call from your bed.

“Hmm?”

“Are you a good pilot?”

Bradley turns onto his side to face you. “I think so.”

“My brother said you were just alright,” you say.

Bradley snorts and throws a pillow at you. You laugh and then stuff the pillow in between your knees. “Joke’s on you, I’m keeping this.”

Bradley adjusts his second pillow under his head and mutters, “You’re welcome.”

“Tomorrow you can choose what you want to listen to,” you say.

Bradley chuckles. What he wants to listen to more than anything is probably you.

“Hey, Rooster,” you say quietly.

“Hmm?”

“Is there any pie left?”

Read Part 3

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[mxrcusflint]

Bradley "Rooster Babygirl" Bradshaw inspired by this post

[bradshawssugarbaby]

Welcome Home, Rooster Bradshaw.

summary: It's been a long six months away from home for Bradley, and you're going to give him the welcome you both deserve.

a/n: ignore that this gif is from the offer, ok? It fits the vibe.

pairing: bradley bradshaw x reader

warnings/content: masturbation (m), facesitting, p in v, creampie, dirty talk, bradley's a vocal lover, praise kink.

word count: 3k

taglist: @nouis-bum @floydsmuse @mamachasesmayhem @avengersfan25 @jessicab1991 @atarmychick007 @b-bradshaw @djs8891 @fall-winter-heart97 @primroseluna @silversprings-mp3 @drxgxnslxyer @gardenavenue

Two more days.

Two more days until Bradley could see your face in person again. Two more days until he could be home and in his own space. 

Bradley let out a heavy, tired sigh, reaching his hand under his pillow. He pulled out the picture of you that he’d brought with him on deployment, tracing over your image with his fingers gently. The picture’s edges were becoming curled, worn from being tucked into flight helmets and under pillows, clutched in sweating, sometimes shaking palms, lips pressed to it in a tender kiss on occasion. He admired the photo, he’d taken it on a date you went on before he left. 

His dad’s well-loved Polaroid camera, left to him as a kid, in hand, he’d taken you to Mission Beach for the day, wanting to have the full tourist experience with you before he got shipped to the middle of the Pacific again. He found a store in Coronado that sold film for vintage cameras, building up a small stockpile for himself. He’d given you a full photoshoot that day — pictures snapped at every opportunity. Watching planes fly over head, playing games in the arcade, rides on the wooden rollercoaster, rock climbing, lunch dates, mini golf, and rock climbing. He’d snapped a couple of you in your sundress, smiling sweetly at him for the camera, your hair flowing in the warm Pacific breeze. 

This photo, however, was the one of you laughing on the beach, your baby blue two-piece swimsuit on, the high-waisted bottoms hugging your curves, the coordinating blue top cupping your breasts in a way that pushed them upever so slightly. He could practically hear your laugh whenever he looked at it, and it made his heartache that little bit more each time. 

“Fuck," he muttered to himself, sighing again as he looked around the bunk. 

Jake was on deck for the night, leaving Bradley with the shared space all to himself for at least a couple of hours. He laid back on his bed, tugging his grey sweatpants down off his hips. He spat into his free hand, using it to stroke his cock in a slow, steady pace, your photograph in his other hand, eyes fixed on your figure as he masturbated. 

Fuck, he missed you. 

He shut his eyes, picturing you as he continued to stroke himself, seeing the facial expression you made whenever you rode him, eyes shut with ecstasy, tits bouncing up and down, hips moving, hands pressed to his chest. The mental image alone was almost enough to drive him over the brink. He let out a deep grunt as he finished, your name escaping him in a soft moan. 

Two days couldn’t come soon enough. 

When he finally got home, Bradley was exhausted. The time difference had caused him more jet lag than it usually did, not that he was sleeping well without you to begin with. He never did. He’d landed earlier than anticipated, coming home a day before he was expected. He unlaced his standard issue boots, kicking them off at the door before heading directly to the laundry room. Stripping clean from his uniform, he tossed it into the washing machine, desperate for a shower and fresh, comfortable clothes.

With a dry towel wrapped around his waist, he bounded up the wooden stairs to the main bathroom. He dropped the towel as he turned the shower on, sighing happily as he stepped into the warm water, letting it wash over him for a minute, enjoying one of the first comforts of being home for the first time in six months. 

Stepping out of the tower, he quickly dried himself off and wrapped his towel back around his waist before heading down the hall to the bedroom. Everything was neatly pulled together — freshly laundered sheets on the bed that still smelled like your favourite detergent, his clothes neatly put away for him, fresh flowers sat in a vase on your nightstand, and a new book sat on his, with a note card placed on top. 

B, I saw this the other day at that cute little bookstore on Orange Ave. It made me think of you. I thought you’d like to read it now that you’ll have a little down time. - Love, your girl. Xo

Bradley felt his heart swell as he read your neatly printed note. He picked the book up, scanning the cover with a soft smile before setting it back down. A true crime book about a case in a podcast he’d mentioned in one of his emails home — it was perfect. God, you were perfect.

He tugged a clean white t-shirt over his head before reaching into his dresser for clean boxer briefs and a pair of well-loved denim shorts that were beginning to fray around the cuffs from being worn so frequently. Bradley looked out the bedroom window at the landscape, happy to finally be home. He’d missed all the little things while he was gone — the palm trees, the smell of those little laundry scent beads you swore by, your coordinating body wash, shampoo and conditioner that you insisted on buying for him when you’d learned he’d been coasting through life for 37 years with a 3-in-1 bottle — almost as much as he’d missed you. 

Downstairs in the kitchen, he got to work crafting himself the sandwich to top all sandwiches. He was starving, and after months of bland, unexciting meals on board an aircraft carrier, all he wanted was comfort food. With his turkey club piled high and a glass bottle of Coke from Mexico in hand, he settled into his favourite chair and began to enjoy himself until you came home from work.

When you did come home, you heard the faint sound of voices coming from the back of the house. You dropped your bag at the front door, running through the house so quickly, you’d forgotten to take your shoes off. In the living room sat Bradley, in his favourite, well-loved chair, dozing as sports highlights played in the background, a plate with remnants of a sandwich and a half-finished bottle of Coke sat on the table beside him. 

You leaned in, pressing your lips to his forehead as you stroked his curls, breathing in the smell of his shampoo. He was finally home.

Bradley’s eyes fluttered open, a smile forming on his lips as he wrapped his arms tightly around you, his nose pressed to your neck as you settled into his lap. 

“Missed you,” he murmured against your skin, peppering you with kisses.

“Missed you more, B,” you echoed as you raked your fingers through his hair. 

“God, I missed you so much, honey. This might have been the hardest trip away from you yet.” 

Bradley’s hands rested firmly on your hips as his lips wandered down your neck to your collarbone. He mumbled against your skin, shoving the strap of your tank top down off of your shoulder. His teeth grazed at your exposed, sun kissed skin, causing you to let out a gasp. 

“Bradley!” you squealed, laughing as his deep brown eyes looked at you, taking in the sight of your face again. 

“Mhmm, I missed that laugh of yours,” he hummed, his large hands moving to cup your breasts. “I’ve missed these tits of yours too.”

“I bet you have, were Jake’s not doing it for you?” you teased.

Bradley scoffed as he pulled your tank top off over your head, tossing it off to somewhere in the void across the room. With one hand snaked around your back, he unfastened your bra in one fluid motion, discarding it to the floor. He grinned at you before pressing his mouth back to your collarbone, thumbs tracing circles over your nipples as they pebbled at his touch.

“No, one’s could do it for me like yours do, honey, you know that. Look at you. So pretty for me. My girl’s always looking pretty, ain’t she?” he purred between kisses to your breasts. 

“Bradley,” you laughed, shaking your head, “This is what you want now that you’re finally home?”

“I’ve been wantin’ this since about two hours after I left, six months without you has been torture. I contemplated quitting when I came home. I thought about faking an injury so they’d discharge me. I tried thinking up a thousand ways to come home early — all of them bad.” He nodded, as he looked up at you, hands still cupping your tits. 

“Mhmm, you thought about quitting for me? That’s not the Bradley Bradshaw I know.”

“I swear, honey, this time…this time was harder than usual.”

“Well, I’m all yours now,” you nodded, your hand stroking his cheek. 

Bradley hummed to himself, tilting his head to the side as he thought for a minute. He looked at you, watching as you bit your lower lip. The sight of you alone after so much time apart was enough to make him hard, but now it was becoming unbearable. He needed you. He craved you. 

“Upstairs, now,” he urged, nodding his head as you got off his lap.

You grinned to yourself as you headed up the stairs, walking just slowly enough to your bedroom so Bradley could catch the way your hips swayed with every step, your taut ass bouncing with each movement. It was enough to drive any man insane, but Bradley could barely contain himself. 

Fuck, he missed you.

He pushed you on to the bed, crawling on all fours as he hovered over your body with a wide grin plastered to his face. You placed a hand on his chest, steadying him as your smile faltered for a second. You held your breath for a moment before exhaling, nodding slowly as Bradley sat back on his knees for a minute. 

“Go easy on me, big guy, it’s been a long six months, I’m out of practice,” you teased, grinning at him.

“Shoot, honey, I thought you were gonna tell me you didn’t want me to-never mind, I’ll go easy on ya. I always do, don’t I?”

“Roo, you do the exact opposite of going easy.” You grinned, rolling your eyes at Bradley. 

Bradley repositioned himself over your body, smirking as he took in the sight of you again. His lips began trailing down your abdomen your shorts, sending chills running up and down your spine with every breathy kiss, every drag of his mustache against your skin. With a skillful hand, he popped the button on your shorts open, sitting up as he pulled them off of you. He hooked two fingers into the crotch of your lace trimmed underwear, shoving them out of the way as he ducked his head between your thighs. Feather-light kisses dotted your inner thighs before his mouth found your core. He flattened his tongue against your slit, running it up your folds slowly as he savoured everything he’d missed for the last six months. 

“Just as pretty as I remember it, fuck.”

His fingers spread your folds apart, giving him better access to your clit. The tip of his tongue traced shapes along it, pressing varying degrees of pressure into you, the tip of his nose pressing into your puffy cunt, swollen from how badly you’d been wanting him for the last six months. He mumbled something against your skin, his lips vibrating against your clit as he pressed another kiss to you. He sat himself up fully, smirking at you.

“Get up, pretty girl, I have an idea.”

You let out a whine in protest, sitting up on the bed as Bradley now laid down on his back. Shooting him a look, you raised your palms in protest, shaking your head at him.

“Bradley, you seriously stopped so I would give it to you instead?”

“What? No,” Bradley laughed, shaking his head as he gestured to his face. “Take a seat.”

“You want me to…?”

Bradley lifted his head up off the pillow, giving you a lustful stare, his eyebrows knitting together as he nodded his head. “Did I stutter? Take. A. Seat.”

You rolled your eyes, giving your head a shake as you slipped out of your underwear, dropping them to the floor. Climbing back on to the bed, you hovered yourself above Bradley’s mouth, looking down at him as you chewed on your lip. He shook his head, his mustache tickling at your inner thigh as he kissed up your leg. In one swift motion, he gripped your thighs tightly, pulling you down until his lips were directly under your dripping core, smirking as he murmured against your skin again. 

“That’s my girl. I’ve missed this pussy so fuckin’ much.” He grunts, nodding his head slightly as he buries his tongue into you, nose pressed to your clit. 

“Bradley!” you whimper, your eyes fluttering shut as you reached down, fingers tugging on his dark curls.

Bradley’s tongue worked into you at a breakneck speed, so fast that you wondered how he was able to breathe. His hands gripped your thighs tightly, blunt fingernails digging into your soft skin as he held you in place. His mouth worked on you relentlessly, refusing to let up until he had you a screaming, crying, pretty little mess, just how he (and you) liked it. 

“Bradley, Bradley, Bradley,” you babbled, unable to say anything other than his name as his tongue fucked into you. 

He grunted into your cunt again, mumbling words of praise into your skin. “Tastes so fuckin’ sweet, honey, so fuckin’ sweet.” He growled before delving his tongue into you again.

Your thighs began to shudder and shake, spasming as you felt your orgasm hit you harder than ever before. You shut your eyes, tears stinging as Bradley continued, not breaking his rhythm once as you came, his tongue quickly lapping at your arousal hungrily. He moved his mouth up to your clit, kissing at it with a couple of powerful sucks before pulling his mouth away. He let go of your thighs, a couple of darker marks forming on your skin from where he got carried away, gripping you a little too tightly. You got up, sitting on the bed, panting as you tried to find your mental clarity again. 

Bradley rolled onto his side and surveyed your thigh, pressing gentle kisses to the darkened marks on your skin in apology. Once you found your words again, his big brown eyes looked up at you from where he was laying on the bed. 

“Roo,” you nodded, placing a hand on his cheek, “I missed you so much.”

“I missed ya too, honey. Ain’t done with ya yet though.”

With that, Bradley quickly shimmied out of his denim shorts and boxers, kicking them off clumsily. He crawled across the bed, finding the spot between your thighs. His hands smoothed over your legs, lifting them up and hoisting them up onto his shoulders. You curved your knees around him as he aligned his hardened cock with your entrance, easing into you with a soft groan. 

“That’s my girl, taking me so well. You missed this cock, didn’t you? Missed me fillin’ ya up, huh, pretty girl?” He purred, pausing as he felt your walls stretching around him. 

“Yes, baby,” you nodded, whining as he stretched you. 

God, he was right. You did miss him. You missed him more than you wanted to let on, you missed his presence, his voice, the silly things he’d do that pissed you off, you missed the way he made love to you, passionate and caring, full of praise, making it his life’s mission to make you feel good. He took it as seriously as his work - calculated movements, using the same precision and laser-focus he did in the air.

Your eyelids fluttered shut again as you felt him pull out of you, pushing himself back into you again with a powerful thrust of his hips. Bradley tutted his tongue against the roof of his mouth, refusing to move again. “Nuh-uh, baby girl, keep those pretty eyes on me. Want you lookin’ at me when I fuck you, got it?”

You nodded dumbly as he pounded into your entrance again, making your head spin as your walls clenched around him. He began thrusting into you, starting slowly as he found his rhythm again, savouring every movement, every inch of you that he’d missed over the last six months. Bradley gently pressed his palm into your pubic bone as he thrusted harder, faster into you, the sensation heightening with the added pressure he was giving. You could tell by the knot turning in your stomach that it wasn’t going to be long before you were coming for him again, and if Bradley had his way, it wouldn’t be the last time you did tonight. 

“Feelin’ so fuckin’ good, pretty girl. That’s my girl. That’s my pretty girl,” he praised, his confident demeanor melting away, leaving Bradley a pussy drunk, babbling mess, unable to say anything other than your praises, repeating your name over and over as if it was a spoken prayer.

“‘M not gonna last, honey,” Bradley shook his head as he moaned breathlessly.

Fuck.

His breath hitched in his throat as his hips slowed, stilling as he came inside of you. Bradley let out the deepest grunt you’d ever heard — the past six months of missing you drawing out of him along with it. Ducking his head down as he tried to catch his breath, his curls slicked and stuck to his forehead with sweat, he panted heavily, gently letting your legs go as you dropped them back down to the bed. He looked up at you, deep brown eyes fixed on your features as he nodded breathlessly.

“Fuck, I missed you, honey. I missed this, and you, and home.”

“Welcome home, Rooster. Welcome home.”

[katsu28]

for you i'd wait forever

pairing: bradley "rooster" bradshaw x reader

summary: bradley breaks things off with you before a deployment because he doesn't want you to worry about him (4.2k)

warnings: some swearing, bradley's commitment issues, happy ending i promise!

a/n: okay so from what i gathered from my googling is that tapping out is typically for new military graduates (i think?) but this idea was so cute so pls forgive the inaccuracies i have no idea what i'm doing at all <3 and also pls forgive me for the utter lack of writing since the beginning of the year, these last few months have been brutal (creatively and otherwise) but i am hopefully back!!! xx

Bradley thought he knew the tolls of being in the Navy. It was tough on not only him, but the people in his life. For the most part, he’d always put his career first. His life had always been on a set track, and although there were plenty of setbacks, he forged ahead until he got where he was today. 

And then he met you. Fell in love with you. Finally knew what it meant to have someone in his corner who was just his. Who knew him for him only, not as Goose’s kid, or Mav’s protege.

For the first time in his life, he could actually see himself spending the rest of it with you. Marriage, house, kids, grandkids—the whole shebang.

That was his first mistake. The more he thought about what life could look like with you, the more he thought about what your life could look like without him. What would happen if something happened to him and he didn’t make it back from this next mission coming up in a few weeks. 

He thought about his mom and how she lost his dad—her husband. The man she thought she’d be spending the rest of her life with. 

Bradley’s thoughts grew quite grim after that. Countless what if’s and thinking about every possible outcome and he eventually made up his mind. He had to break up with you. 

He didn’t want to. Not by a long shot. You were probably the best thing that ever happened to him in his thirty plus years of life. But deep down, he knew that it was the right thing to do. He was about to leave for six, seven months, with little to no contact with anyone who wasn’t Navy. That would definitely take a toll on your relationship. You’d never been through something like this before, and there really was no way to prepare you for what it would be like. 

You would worry about him every single hour of every single day, he knew that for a fact. Bradley barely remembered what it was like when his dad was away because he was so young, but he did remember how worried his mom was all the time.

Looking back, he understood now. He didn’t want that for you. The worry would hold you back from other things you wanted to do in life, things that brought you joy and gave you purpose. 

With the mission creeping up on him faster than he would’ve liked, he knew he had to do it sooner rather than later. 

That was how Bradley found himself on your doorstep right now, pushing down his guilt by telling himself over and over that breaking up with you was in your best interest. He hadn’t called beforehand to tell you he was coming by, so when you answered the door and beamed brighter than the stars when your eyes landed on him, he almost wanted to chicken out. 

“Hi!” You exclaimed, immediately pulling him into a warm hug. His arms closed around you out of instinct, thumb rubbing over the sliver of exposed skin at your waist, nose nudging its way against your neck the way he always did when you embraced him. 

He inhaled the scent of the lotion you loved to use, that flowery one that sometimes made him sneeze. You always said you’d buy a different one the next time you went to the store, but you always forgot. He didn’t mind it at all though. A small bout of allergies was nothing compared to the inevitable smattering of apology kisses you pressed to his face when you realized you’d forgotten. 

Fuck, this was going to be way harder than he thought. 

Your hands made their way up his biceps to cup his cheeks, eyes darting around his face. “What’re you doing here? Oh my god, did we have something planned? I’m so—” 

“No.” He gave his head a shake, offering you a smile. “No, we didn’t have anything planned. I just…wanted to see you. To talk to you.” 

“Come in, come in, I was just about to start dinner,” You hummed, escaping his embrace with an arm hooked through his to tug him over the threshold. “Trying a new recipe I found the other day, not sure if it’ll turn out good or end up being a shitshow, but—well, you can help me be the judge of that, I guess!” 

“Is it okay if we talk first?” 

If you were confused, you didn’t show it, just changed direction seamlessly, making your way to the couch instead of the kitchen. You sat down, patting the cushion next to you for him to settle on and he did, rubbing his clammy palms against his thighs. 

“Is everything okay?” 

Everything was far from okay, he wanted to say. Instead he inhaled a deep breath before his next words. 

“I wanted to tell you I’m shipping out in a few weeks.” 

Your face fell a little, but you nodded thoughtfully. “Okay. What do we do? Is there anything you can tell me? Like, what’s the best way to get in touch with you, when’s the best time, that kind of stuff? Or is sending letters better? Sorry, I feel like I’m asking a lot of questions. I don’t—I’ve never really done anything like this before, so—” 

“I think we should break up.” He blurted. 

You hesitated before answering, blinking at him like you’d somehow heard him wrong. “What?” 

“It’s hard having someone overseas for a long time, even more so when it’s a partner. It was really hard on my mom, and hard for me having to watch her worry like that for months, and I—I don’t want that for you.” He said quietly, not daring to meet your eyes until he gave his poor excuse for an explanation on why he was doing the one thing he swore he wouldn’t do to you. 

The moment he’d realized he’d fallen in love with you, he’d promised himself he would never abandon you, never break your heart or your trust, and here he was, doing that exact thing. It was tearing him apart inside. 

“I don’t want you to have to go through all that, so it’s just better if we—that we break up now. Before I go.” 

“What are you doing?” 

“I’m sorry. It’s for the best.” 

“Why are you doing this?” Your voice broke just after the last word, swallowed up by a hitched inhale of a breath that had his resolve wavering just the slightest bit. He could barely look you in the eyes the whole time, and now…he didn’t think he could stand the sadness and hurt flooding every single one of your beautiful features. 

“All the worrying and the uncertainty of not knowing what’s happening, I don’t—it wouldn’t be fair to you. I care about you too much to put you through all of that.” 

You were silent for the longest time, eyes glued to the floor as you processed the information. He thought you were about to start crying with the way your brow creased, but when you finally looked back up at him, your gaze had hardened. “Did these last six months mean nothing to you? You’re just gonna throw everything away because what—you don’t think I can handle it?” 

They meant everything to me, he wanted to say. You mean everything to me. 

If he was really being honest with himself, it was him who couldn’t handle it. Still, he forged on, thinking it best to just rip off the bandaid. He could live with being the asshole if it meant sparing you from the terrible experience of him being god knows how many miles away for months. 

“I’m sorry. I wish you nothing but happiness, Y/N. You deserve better than anything I could ever give you.” 

“You wish me nothing but happiness?” You chuckled humorlessly, shaking your head. Bradley’s eyes tracked you across the room as you paced back and forth, guilt ridden expression on full display. All he wanted to do was take all of it back; to kiss you senseless and tell you everything was going to work out, but he couldn’t. He’d burned the bridge, cut the rope. Broke your heart. He felt like the biggest asshole in the world. He probably was. “Screw you, Bradley. I mean it.”

“I’m sorry.” He repeated, for what seemed like the hundredth time. It was all he could say. 

“Get the fuck out of my house.” 

“Y/N, I—” 

You rushed at him, pushing, shoving, sending him stumbling step by step towards the front door until he almost crashed into it had he not managed to pull it open a split second before you shoved him outside. He’d never forget the look of betrayal in your eyes right before you slammed the door in his face. 

Bradley forced his feet to take him back to his car, then to drive away before he could have a chance to even try and make things better. He’d most likely end up making things much, much worse. Though he didn’t think it could get any worse with the way he was feeling about himself right now. You were angry at him, and you had every right to be. 

But had he lingered at your door only moments after, he would’ve heard the thump against the wood that was you sliding down to the floor and the sob that escaped your mouth. 

All because of him. 

-------

Bradley was happy to finally be coming back home after ages away, but then he realized it—he didn’t have anyone to tap him out this time. His mind jumped to you first, but there was no chance in hell you’d be there for him. You’d probably moved on months ago. Forgotten about him. And with Mav away on another deployment, he really had no one. 

His chest ached the longer he stood at attention, jaw clenched tighter than he meant it to be as he watched the rest of his squad get tapped out by their loved ones. Coyote’s parents, Fanboy’s sisters, Hangman’s nieces and nephews, Phoenix’s girlfriend. They were all emotional reunions, and Bradley was happy for them, he really was. But it sucked being the one with nobody there for him. 

He wasn’t expecting the soft tap on his arm when it came. He thought it was a mistake at first; someone else’s family bumping into him accidentally, so he didn’t move. But when the hand didn’t leave its place wrapped loosely around his bicep, Bradley knew it really was for him. He turned around, squinting against the blinding sunlight to see who’d come for him. 

“Hi.” You said softly, hand dropping back down to your side. He couldn’t help but let himself take you in, eyes drinking in every single achingly familiar detail of you until you shifted nervously under his intense gaze. You looked so beautiful he almost felt dizzy, just like he remembered but at the same time somehow even better. 

“You came.” He said, disbelieving. He could still hardly believe you were actually here. 

“I promised you I would.” 

“But that—that was before…everything happened. Why are you—what’re you doing here?” The last thing he wanted to sound like was ungrateful, because he was quite literally the opposite, but his mind just couldn’t wrap around the fact that despite him breaking your heart seven months ago, you still remembered what you’d promised him in the very beginning of your relationship. 

“What does it mean to tap someone out?” You asked quietly, tracing a finger along the planes of Bradley’s bare chest. Your legs were tangled under the covers, both of you still basking in the aftermath of getting reacquainted with each other again after Bradley had been out of town attending a weeklong training exercise. 

His skin was still damp with sweat, but you didn’t mind one bit, too busy exploring the expanse of muscle shifting under his bronzed skin again. “In military terms, I mean.” 

He chuckled, hiding a content smile into the hair at the crown of your head. “That’s a weird question.” 

“Humor me, Bradshaw.” 

“Yes ma’am.” Bradley stroked a rough palm down the smooth skin of your arm, taking a few beats to come up with an answer that would make sense. “Tapping out is a super long standing tradition in pretty much all military units, I think. It comes at the end of a mission, when we’ve come back to base.” 

His arm repositioned itself under your head as he scooted closer to the warmth radiating from your body, nose nuzzling deeper against you just so he could engrain the smell of your lingering fruity scented shampoo into his memory forever. 

How you still smelled so good even after your…physical activities just before this was beyond him, but he loved it. 

“An aviator’s loved ones are usually the ones to do it. Friends, family, those kinds of people. When you tap out your aviator, literally you’re releasing them from formation. But I guess it’s kind of a gesture that means…you’re home.” 

Your wandering fingers stilled against his skin, lingering right above his heart. “Can I ask you something?” 

“Go for it.” 

“Who usually taps you out?” 

Bradley remained silent. It was an innocent question, he knew that. He’d told you a little bit about his parents, and you were just curious. Still, it sent a pang of sadness through his chest whenever he thought about what it would’ve been like if they were still around today. 

He cleared his throat, sniffing once. “Usually Mav. Or sometimes one of my squad’s family. If no one can, I just gotta wait til everyone else is done.” 

“I wanna do it.”

“What?” 

“I’m gonna be there next time you come back from a mission. To tap you out.” 

“I appreciate it, honey, I do. But you don’t need to.” 

“I want to.” You said firmly, pulling away from him to prop yourself up on your elbow and look him in the eye. You looked damn serious too. He raised a quizzical brow. “You said that to tap someone out means to tell them they’re home. I want to be the one to tell you you’re home. Here. With me.” 

Bradley opened his mouth like he was going to say something, then snapped shut when no words came out. He really was at a loss for words. No one had ever done that before. Sure, Mav’s offer was always a good one to fall back on, but Bradley had never had someone he cared about as much as he did about you telling him they were going to be there for him. 

The next best thing he could think of instead of saying anything at all was to kiss you. So he did. 

He pushed himself up towards you, sliding a hand around the nape of your neck and pressing his lips against yours. Not bruisingly hard, but enough to let you know he was all in. The other hand curled around your shoulder, splaying across your back to bring you back in closer to him, until your chests were flush and you could feel his heartbeat thundering under your palm.

He was home. You were his home. 

“I told you I’d be here to tap you out, and I meant it.” You said simply, holding his gaze. “I keep my promises, Bradshaw. Even after the way you left things.” 

Red hot guilt crept its way through his chest like vines, bringing all the memories of the last time you saw each other right back up to the surface, even after how hard he’d tried to shove them all down. If there was one thing he regretted in life, it was how he left you that night. He didn’t think he’d ever forgive himself for that one. 

“I don’t even know what to say, Y/N, I—” 

“Then let me say something.” You blurted, wringing your hands. Bradley nodded instantly, still too dumbfounded to reply. “I’ve been thinking about what I wanted to say to you today for months. I don’t even know if I should.” 

“You should.” He encouraged, nodding quickly. He’d always wanted you to be able to speak your mind with him. “Don’t hold back. Let me hear it.” 

“Okay. Okay, well first of all, you’re an asshole, Bradley.” 

He nodded again. He deserved at least that much. “I am. Absolute asshole, I know.” 

“But I never stopped loving you. Even though I was angry and sad and confused as fuck as to why you would do that to me, I still loved you. And eventually, I realized that it wasn’t anything I did wrong. You were scared. Of losing me, of me losing you. So you decided it was your responsibility to pull the ripcord before you crashed and burned.” Bradley winced slightly at the comparison and you grimaced at your own poor choice in words. “I—sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” 

“It’s okay. You’re right. You didn’t deserve that.” 

“You said you didn’t want me to worry while you were gone, well, I did that anyways.” You chuckled, like you were remembering a fond memory instead of the constant state of anxiety you’d been in. “But instead of worrying that the man I love might not make it home, I was terrified that if you didn’t come home, I’d spend my whole life replaying our last conversation in my head. Wondering if there was something I could’ve said or done so you wouldn’t have given up on us so easily.” 

“You think that was easy for me? Sweetheart, walking away from you was one of the hardest things I’ve had to do in my whole life.” 

“Sure seemed pretty easy.” You scoffed lightly, only a tad spiteful. A low blow, you realized, when Bradley stiffened for a split second, but you held steady. 

“It wasn’t.” His reply was immediate and firm as could be, but somehow, that didn’t make you feel any better. “You have to understand, breaking things off was the last thing I wanted to do. But I couldn’t—I thought that if I didn’t, you’d wait for me.” 

“I would’ve waited, Bradley! I did wait for you! For you, I'd wait forever because I love you, but you didn’t even give me that choice. You made the decision on your own instead of talking to me about it. That was what hurt the most.”  

“I’m sorry.” Bradley said quietly, reaching out to take your hand. His fingers laced through yours almost tentatively, feeling so familiar but so foreign at the same time. There was a point in your life where you never thought that concept would apply to Bradley. “I never should’ve left like that, I wish I could take it all back.” 

“I think I understand now why you did it. I understand that fear that comes with the experience of losing a loved one like that. But Bradley, you’re not responsible for my feelings. And I don’t care how scared you get, I’m not going anywhere. From now on, we work things out together, no matter what you think is best.” 

“From now on? Does that mean…?” 

“You’re my home, Bradley Bradshaw.”

Bradley took your face in his hands and he kissed you, long and hard, pouring every ounce of pent up feelings he’d been bottling up for the past seven months into it. Pain, fear, love, hope—all of it. You were never one to believe in such emotion being able to convey itself through a simple physical action, but now you could honestly say you understood it. 

Your hands spread across the broadness of his back, fingers pressing into the crisp starch of his uniform like you were afraid of letting him go , even though he was home and everything was okay now. Losing him the first time made you angry. You didn’t even want to imagine possibly losing him a second time. 

He drew back, only far enough to press his lips to your forehead, hands still holding you close as could be. “Thank you for coming.”

“I don’t make a habit of breaking my promises.” 

“C’mon, I wanna introduce you to the squad.” He said softly, lacing his fingers through yours. The way he all but bounded over to the group of aviators a little ways away was almost boyish, as was the excitement in his voice when he approached them. “Hey everyone, there’s someone I want you to meet.” Bradley announced, sliding a hand around to the small of your back. 

Everyone’s eyes turned on you, conversations petering to a gradual stop as they looked between you and Bradley. You shifted nervously, suddenly feeling unsure with all the attention on you, but Bradley’s thumb rubbed along your skin, soothing you just a bit. “This is Y/N. My girlfriend.” 

The tall blond reacted the quickest, snapping loudly before aiming a finger in your direction, along with a shiny smile. “Wait, I know you! You’re the one in that photo Rooster keeps tucked in his helmet. Lemme tell you, he looked at that picture every damn day, it was like—” 

Bradley let out a very forced laugh, aiming a not-so-subtle daggered glare at the other man. “Okay, Hangman! That’s okay, I really don’t think—” 

“You’re a real saint, taking this one back. If I ever pulled the shit he did, my car would’ve been keyed to all hell when I came home.” Hangman chuckled, giving his head a shake. 

“Hangman. Shut. Up.” 

“Don’t tell me to shut up, you shut up!” 

“You’re the only one talking!” 

“Alright, alright, you’re both grown men here,” The dark haired woman sighed, turning towards you. “At least, I hope so.” 

You chuckled at that, casting a glance over at Bradley to find him already looking back at you, the back and forth with Hangman already long forgotten given the way he was smiling at you, like you were the force that made the world go round. Taking you in under his arm, he dotted a kiss to your hairline as your fingers came up to intertwine with his again, watching you interact with his squad like you’d known them for years. 

It was everything he ever wanted. And now that he had it, he’d never be dumb enough to let it go again. 

His mind drifted back to his parents’ fate— how they never got to live out their life together. How there was no guarantee about anything when it came to Bradley’s own fate with you.

And sure, it was scary to be so uncertain about the future, but you’d both climb that hill together when the time came. For now, Bradley could let himself be content. This second chance at a life with you wasn’t one he was planning on taking lightly, not by a long shot. 

“Let’s get off this damn carrier and hit the town! Drinks at the Hard Deck, last one there buys the first round!” Hangman’s drawling voice drew Bradley out of his thoughts, just in time to let the words sink in.

You, on the other hand, stifled a giggle at the sight of seeing a group of full grown adults scatter as fast as Bradley’s friends did. Watching Hangman nearly shove Coyote to the ground upon seeing their cars were parked next to each other was something you’d never not get a kick out of. 

But Bradley, he didn’t seem as worried about it all. In fact, he walked leisurely with your hand firmly in his, swinging both of them between the two of you as you made your way to your own car. 

“Aren’t you worried you’ll be the last one there?” 

“I’ll buy the round, I don’t care.” He shrugged. “I wanna spend some time with my girl.” 

“Your girl.” You hummed, giving his hand a squeeze. “Gotta say, I’ve missed hearing that.” 

“I’ve missed saying it. We’ve got a lot to catch up on, honey. Starting with, do you or do you not have a voodoo doll made in my image that you stabbed with pins when I was away because I broke your heart?” 

You scoffed, letting out a not so attractive snort. “Bradley, I mean this in the most respectful way possible—what the hell are you talking about? Where would you even get that idea?”

“I—uh, I had a dream about it? A few weeks into deployment.” He admitted sheepishly, cheeks burning red in embarrassment. You pressed your lips together, trying not to laugh. “You don’t, right?” 

“Don’t be ridiculous.” You replied, giving his chest a firm pat. You didn’t have a voodoo doll of him, of course, but playing along was worth it just to see Bradley squirm. 

“Wait, wait, wait, but you didn’t say no.” 

“I didn’t.” 

“So you do?” 

“I didn’t say that either. But if you’re not sure, I’d watch yourself the next couple weeks.” 

His brows furrowed in confusion and a bit of fear as he watched you walk away from him with some bounce to your step. “I…really don’t like the sound of that. Hang on, get back here. Explain, please!” 

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[bloatedandalone04]

Guys My Age

➪the one where you’re bradley’s kid’s babysitter, but that doesn’t stop him from wanting you in every way.

Warnings: smut, fluff, unprotected sex, fingering, oral, swearing, multiple orgasms, squirting, hair pulling, dirty talk, dad bradley, age gap, aftercare aw, maybe a bit of a corruption kink (?), maybe size kink

Word Count: 4.1k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

Bradley was desperate to speed up guys night so he could go back home. Not only only was his one year old son, Theo, there, but you were, too. And he wanted you. Bad. 

But you were his kid’s babysitter.

His kid’s hot, kind and sexy babysitter he had no business feeling so attracted to.

It was bad enough there was a large age gap of ten years, with you being twenty three and him being thirty three. But you were far too stunning to pass up. He was down bad for you, and he wasn’t sure how much more he could take. He could only hope you felt the same way about him, even though it was so wrong. Bradley knew it would feel so right. 

Jake and the others teased him about being so distracted all night, and Bradley finally decided he was going home and hoping he didn’t make an ass of himself in front of you. He drove home, his body on fire as he pictured you sitting in his living room, waiting for him to come home and relieve you of your duties. 

You were so good with Theo, and it only made Bradley even more attracted to you. He simply couldn’t help himself. 

He pulled into his driveway, his heart beating loudly in his ears as he pulled the keys out of the ignition. He still couldn’t believe what was happening to him. His attraction to you was so strong and intense, it kinda scared him a bit. It had been so long since he felt like this, especially since his ex-wife had left him with their newborn son for him to try and figure out how to be a parent on his own. 

Bradley hopped out of his Bronco and locked it behind him before heading towards the front door and entering his house. It was quiet, so you were probably up in Theo’s room with him. He threw his keys onto the counter before making his way upstairs and down the hall. 

When he reached his son’s room, he poked his head inside and sure enough, you were standing over Theo’s crib, watching him sleep. Bradley leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched the sweet interaction of you leaning down to kiss Theo’s head. 

Seeing you be so gentle with Theo made Bradley’s cock twitch in his jeans, your sweetness sending waves of desire through his body. He had to bite down on his lip to stop the groan from coming out, because he refused to have you quit on him because you caught him watching you like a perv. 

Bradley cleared his throat, announcing his return to you. “Hey,” he greeted, trying to sound casual but failing miserably. You turned to face him quickly, and the surprised smile you gave him told him he’d caught you off guard. 

“Hi, Mr. Bradshaw,” you greeted back and he refrained from groaning again at that name. He loved when you called him that, but he craved to hear you call him by his first name, too. “You’re back.”

“Yeah, I just got back,” he replied, giving you a forced smile. “How was your night with Theo?”

Your smile grew as you looked down at his boy, “Oh, it was great. Theo is the sweetest baby ever,” 

Bradley hummed in agreement, knowing damn well your words were true. Theo was a sweet baby, and he had been since the second Bradley held him in that delivery room. “Um, have you eaten? I brought home pizza for dinner, and you’re more than welcome to join me,” he offered, hoping he wasn’t coming off as desperate, but also not caring if he did.

A blush took over your face as you looked over at him again. “Pizza sounds great. I haven’t eaten anything since I was planning on grabbing something on my way home,” you answered and Bradley grinned.

“Great,” he said and stepped aside, gesturing for you to lead the way. As he followed you into the kitchen, he was powerless to stop his eyes from taking in the curve of your hips and the way you walked. He had no idea why he found you so fucking intoxicating, but here he was. 

By the time he leaned against the counter next to the table, he was painfully hard and only a little ashamed of it. “So, um, how was guys night?” You asked as you hovered near the table, your eyes flickering towards the pizza box before looking back at him. 

Bradley ran his hand through his hair and cleared his throat. “Guys night was fine,” he responded. “But kind of boring. I gotta say, coming home to see you with my kid was probably the highlight of my night.”

Fuck, he really did not mean to say that out loud, but he did and now he can’t take it back. And now you’re blushing again and breaking eye contact with him. “Oh, um,” you trail off, dragging your finger along the edge of the pizza box. “That’s really nice. Thank you, Bradley- I mean, Mr. Bradshaw. I’m sorry.”

Well, fuck, he wants to hear you say his first name even more now. Bradley straightened up a bit and smiled at you. “Please, call me Bradley,”

When you looked back over at him, he knew something had changed. Something had shifted, he could tell by the way you bit your lip and looked at him with hooded, dark eyes he’d never seen before. 

Could you actually feel the same way about him? God, he hoped so, because he was about three seconds away from risking it all. 

He stepped towards you, hesitating for a brief second before he lifted his hand and placed it on your waist, and when you willingly turned to face him, he pulled you a bit closer. “I know this may sound inappropriate,” he started and reveled in the way your gaze flickered down to his lips. “But, God, Y/n…do you have any fucking idea what you do to me? Any idea about what I want to do to you?”

Your eyes widened a bit as you pressed your lips together and out of the corner of his eye, he could see the way your thighs pressed together, too. 

Bradley reached up with his free hand and gripped your jaw, his thumb pulling at your bottom lip. “Tell me it’s not just me feeling this,” he rasped. “Tell me you feel it, too.”

The sound of your breath hitching and the sight of your eyes closing a bit was all the confirmation he needed. Well, that and the way you leaned up towards him with hunger in your eyes. 

“Fuck it,” he grunted before closing the distance between you and capturing your lips in a deep, demanding kiss. His tongue pushed past your lips and delved into your mouth, his hand moving to cradle the back of your neck as he angled your head. His other hand tightly gripped your hip and pulled you forward until there was no space left between the two of you. 

He kissed you possessively, needily, and you returned it with nearly everything he gave, and it was everything he wanted. Maybe more. 

You gasped against his lips and he groaned when he felt your fingers tangle in his hair. He could feel goosebumps form on your skin when he slid his hand under your shirt and placed it firmly on your lower back. “I’ve wanted this for so fucking long,” he confessed against your mouth before going back in. He pulled you impossibly closer with both hands on your back, his cock throbbing painfully in his jeans as he allowed him to taste you in the way he thought he never could. 

A soft moan left your lips as you tugged on his hair and leaned back against the table, pulling him along with you. “I’ve wanted this, too,” you whispered before kissing him again. “Is this…this is…okay? I mean, I’m your son’s babysitter, I…”

Bradley pulled back, his chest heaving a bit as he kissed the side of your head. Really, was any of this actually wrong? It definitely didn’t feel like it, and you both clearly wanted it. So was it really wrong? “We’re two consenting adults, Y/n. There’s nothing wrong with this,” he finally allowed himself to admit. “Besides, you’re not just Theo’s babysitter. You’re smart, funny, gorgeous, and you make me feel things I haven’t felt in years.”

His hands slid down to the curve of your back, and his fingertips gently dug into the firm skin of your ass before he pressed his forehead against yours. 

“This isn’t just a fling for me,” he whispered as he brushed his lips against yours. “This means something more. Tell me you feel it, too.”

“I do,” you answer instantly. “Of course I do. I think you’re so attractive, but also kind and mature and everything I want.”

Bradley grinned, feeling his body heat up as he pushed himself closer to you. He was sure you could feel his boner by now, but there was no going back now. He was all in. “From now on, there’s no Mr. Bradshaw, okay? Just Bradley,” he whispered as he kissed along your jaw. 

“Okay,” you mumble with wide eyes and wet lips. “Bradley.”

He smirked, “Good girl,” then leaned back down to kiss you deeply again. His hand moved further down to squeeze your ass while his other moved up to grope your chest through the thin material of your tank top. You tasted so good, he was sure he would never get enough. 

“Oh, my God,” you whimpered, grabbing the sides of his neck as you leaned further back against the table, right next to the pizza you both had forgotten about. “You don’t know how hot you are when you call me that.”

Your body fit perfectly against his as he towered over you, his lips unrelenting as he kissed you. It felt like you belonged here, against him. “Good to know,” he grunted as he trailed kisses down your throat and pulled up your shirt until your lower stomach was exposed. “I want to hear every sound that leaves those pretty lips of yours. Every single one. Is that going to happen tonight, babygirl?”

You whimpered again when his fingers brushed against the underside of your bra. “What do you want to do to me?” You asked, breathless as you gripped his biceps. 

Bradley smiled down at you before pressing a much softer kiss to your lips. “That depends on you, sweetheart,” he began, pushing down one strap of your tank top. “First, I’m going to take these clothes off you and explore every inch of your sweet body with my mouth.”

Your quiet moans were probably the best thing he had ever heard in his life, and he continued, 

“I want to taste every part of you, and then I’m going to fuck you until you can’t even remember your own name,” he promised, pulling down your bra strap as well until you were nearly exposed. “How does that sound to you? Do you want that?”

“I want that,” you whined, nodding quickly. “God, I want that, Bradley. I’ve been wanting that for months now.”

“Months, huh?” He echoed. “Jesus Christ, why didn’t you say something sooner?”

You groaned and lifted your arms when he began to pull up your shirt, and you gave him a look once he let the fabric fall to the floor of his kitchen. “Why didn’t you?”

“Fair point,” he muttered, his hands gently pulling your bra off as well, leaving your top half completely bare. He bit his lip and ran his thumbs along the undersides of your breasts, leaning in to whisper next to your ear, “We can take our time then. No rushing this first time.”

You whimpered quietly, tugging on his hair. “First time?”

Bradley hummed against the skin of your shoulder. “Yeah, first time. One of many,” his hands came up to caress your face, his thumbs stroking your cheeks. “I meant what I said, babygirl. This isn’t some fling for me. I want you, all of you, if you’ll have me.”

Your fingers grab hold of his jaw as you nod. “Yes. Yes, Bradley. I want that, all of that, too,”

At your words, Bradley lets out a sigh of relief. He knew he wasn’t alone in this. He knew, at least a small part of him knew, that you were into him, too. 

He grabbed your hips and bucked against you, a small jolt of relief taking over his body, but it wasn’t enough. “Then let’s make it official,” he mumbled, stepping away from you and pulling off his shirt. He unzips his jeans to feel a bit more relief, and when he looked back at you, your lips were parted and your eyes were wide. “Like what you see, sweetheart?” 

At your quick nod, he moves closer again and leans down to take one of your nipples into his mouth. He gave it a gentle tug before soothing the sting with his tongue as his hand trails down your body. “Oh, my God,” you whispered, tipping your head back as you moved your hands to his hair again. “Are we really doing this?”

“We are,” he confirmed, releasing your nipple and looking down at you before dropping to his knees. His hands pulled down your jeans, and his eyes darkened at the pretty lace that covered your core from his greedy eyes. “These are cute, but they need to go.”

His fingers rubbed you through the material before he tugged it down and helped you kick them off to the side. Then you were completely bare to him, and you looked even more stunning than he imagined. Than he dreamed of. 

“God, you’re hot,” you moaned, trailing your fingers through his hair.

Bradley laughed. “Flattery will get you everywhere with me, sweetheart,” he mumbled as he stood back up and gripped the backs of your thighs, lifting you up and setting you down on the table. He nudged your thighs apart and guided your feet to rest flat against the service, giving him the perfect view of your soaked pussy. “Goddamn, baby.”

His breathing was uneven as he sank back down to his knees and gripped your thighs. “Bradley,” you whimpered, making him glance up and meet your gaze. “What are you going to do to me?”

“I’m gonna worship this pretty little pussy in the way it deserves,” he answered, leaning in to lick a stripe up your slick folds and moaning the taste he’s been craving for so long. “All night long, if you let me.”

Then he was going back in for a deeper taste, his tongue separating your slit  as his hands spread your thighs wider. Your sweet moans spurred him on, and he sucked on your clit as two of his fingers dipped inside your tight heat. 

“So fucking tight and wet for me,” he groaned, licking up your folds again. “I could devour you for hours, babygirl.”

“Fuck,” you cried out, gripping the edges of the table as you tip your head back. “Bradley.”

Hearing you moan his name had him grunting, and he throbbed in his jeans. This was getting to be too much, but he wasn’t about to stop now. He didn’t think he could physically pull away from your pussy if he tried. 

Loud, lewd slurping sounds filled the kitchen as he stayed true to his words and devoured you in the way you deserved, and your whimpers and gasps mixed in perfectly with the sounds his own mouth was making. “You’re so fucking responsive,” he rasped, blowing a cool puff of hair across your clit and making your body shudder. “How good am I making you feel, baby?”

“Fuck, so good,” you answered, pulling harshly on his hair. “Don’t stop. Don’t stop, please please please.”

Bradley fucked his fingers faster inside you, making sure to curl them against your tight walls. “I’m not stopping,” he swore, pressing his mouth to your clit. “I want you to cum all over my face.”

A soft cry left your lips as you ground your body against his face until you were coming. “Fuck! Oh, my God! Bradley!”

His eyes were fixated on your face as you writhed against him, and he wanted to drag this out for as long as he possibly could. He curled his fingers with each thrust of his hand, stroking that sweet spot deep inside you as his thumb rubbed your clit with no mercy. “Come on, baby, give me one more,” he fake begged. “I know you have another one in you.”

He went back to sucking on your clit and pistoning his fingers inside you, and he felt the way you tightened around him even more. 

Then you were squirting on his face. 

“Fuck,” you practically sobbed as you soaked his face. Your thighs were shaking violently now, your pussy clamped around his dripping finger as he pulled back with wide, dark eyes. 

While he knew he could make you cum again, he was completely unprepared for the river that flooded his mouth and chin. He was fucking covered in you, and he literally almost came right then and there. “Fuck yeah,” he grunted breathlessly as he pulled his fingers out of you and stood up. He cleaned you from his fingers, then his palm, as he moved to position himself between your still trembling thighs, all while keeping eye contact with you. “Holy shit, baby.”

He kissed you deeply, moaning at the way your tongue licked all over his mouth and tasted yourself on his lips. When he pulled away, he looked down at your wet thighs, and the small puddle that had pooled under you on the table that was beginning to drip onto the tiled floor. “That was the hottest fucking thing I have ever seen,” he grunted. “You almost made me cum from that.”

Your laugh made him grin as you finally regained control over your breathing. “Fuck, I’ve never done that before,”

Bradley groaned loudly, licking his lips and closing his eyes at the taste of you that still lingered on them. He pushed his jeans and boxers down, his eyes ten shades darker as he looked at you. “I need to be inside you. Right now before I lose what’s left of my mind,” he murmured, giving his cock a few much-needed strokes. “Please, can I fuck you, baby?”

Your gaze was locked on his cock as you nodded. “Yes…yes, fuck me, Bradley,” you said quietly as you grabbed hold of the edge of the table. “Right here.”

He couldn’t ignore the way your mouth practically watered at the sight of him, and his ego grew even more. He knew he was big, but you made him feel like he had the biggest dick in the world. He was definitely the biggest you had ever seen, he could tell that from the look you were giving him now, and he felt a sense of pride wash over him. 

Bradley gripped his base and your thigh as he guided his tip to your sopping entrance, and then he pushed inside with one swift movement. You moaned loudly, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he felt your walls encase him perfectly. 

He couldn’t wait anymore, not when he felt like he was two seconds away from coming. 

Bradley gripped your hips and set a brutal pace, fucking you hard and fast as you whimpered and clawed at the skin on his neck. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room as he fucked into you ruthlessly, the table creaking under each thrust. “Yeah, baby, take it all,” he grunted, looking down to watch the way his cock came out wetter and wetter each time he buried it inside you. “This is what you needed, isn’t it, sweetheart? You needed this tight pussy to be stretched open and fucked by a real man, huh?”

You nodded, then let out a loud cry as he began rubbing your puffy clit, and then you were coming around him. “Oh, fuck. Fuck!” You moaned, your eyes squeezed shut as your body trembled in his arms. 

“That’s it, baby,” he cooed, his own body begging for release, but he held back as best as he could. His pelvis slammed against yours as he didn’t let up his pace, and your head tipped back as you let him continue to fuck you. “More, babygirl. I want to feel you cum for me again.”

You whine, wrapping your legs around his waist and pressing your heels against his back. “Fuck, Bradley. Don’t stop fucking me. You feel too good to stop…keep going,”

Yeah, you were pretty much perfect. 

Bradley grunted as he watched your tits bounce with each thrust he gave, and he had to tighten his holds on your thighs as he felt his whole body tense up. He didn’t want to cum yet. You felt too good, too. He never wanted this to end. “You’re mine,” he muttered, his cock throbbing inside you as he leaned down to press a hard kiss to your mouth. “All mine, baby.”

He reached down and pulled your thigh higher on his hip, the new angle allowing him to hit even deeper inside you. 

“You like that?”

“Fuck yes,” you moaned, your eyes rolling back as you clung to his biceps. “Your cock is fucking huge, Bradley. Feels so fucking good.” 

The filthy words pouring from your mouth only turned him on even more, because you were his son’s sweet babysitter. There was something incredibly arousing to hear such dirty words spill from your seemingly innocent lips, especially since less than half an hour ago, you were his quiet and shy babysitter. 

“Fucking hell. You’re so wet for me, baby, and you’ve got such a dirty fucking mouth,” he growled, feeling the way your pussy clenched around him. “Yeah, squeeze my dick just like that…just like that.”

When you came for a fourth time, he couldn’t hold back any more. Your hands were a bit frantic as you touched every part of him, trying to stable yourself as he fucked you through your high until he reached his own. With a loud groan, he buried himself deep inside you before coming hard. 

His cum filled you up, his thrusts slowing down to weak bucks of his hips as his head fell onto your shoulder. Both your bodies were covered in sweat, and you both were panting. “I think I might have broken you,” he teased softly, peppering kisses along your salty skin as he slowly pulled out of you. “But don’t worry, babygirl. I’m gonna take care of you now.” 

A soft whimper left your lips as you looked down to see his cum dripping out of you. “Bradley…that…that was…” 

You were still shaking and he didn’t blame you. If he came four fucking times in less than half an hour, he’d be on the floor right now. “It was amazing,” he finished for you, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your mouth. “I’ve never had sex like that before in my entire life.”

He gathered up your trembling body into his arms and carried you into his bathroom and set you down onto the bathroom counter as he got the shower ready. Once it was at a good temperature, he lifted you up again and stepped under the water with you. 

“Let me take care of you,” he whispered, waiting until he knew you could hold yourself up before he began washing your mixed cum away from the insides of your thighs. 

It was as if you couldn’t be away from him right now, as when he stood back up, you forced yourself into his arms again and clung to his chest. 

As the water poured down onto the both of you, Bradley kissed the top of your head and held you close. “That wasn’t just sex,” he murmured, running his fingers through your wet hair as he recalled his words from a few minutes ago. “It was something special. You’re more than just the girl who looks after my kid a couple times a week, babygirl. You’re someone very important to Theo and I.”

You blushed at his words and desperately kissed him back when he leaned down to press his lips to yours. “I am?”

Bradley caressed your face, his thumbs tugging on your kiss swollen lips. “You are,” he answered. “From the second I saw you, I knew there was something different about you. You brought light back into my life and you’re so perfect with Theo. And I intend to keep you right here with me, if you’ll let me.”

You pressed your lips together and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. “That wasn’t just sex for me, either,” you say against his mouth. “That was one of the best experiences of my life. From the start…til right now.”

Bradley grinned down at you before kissing you again. “You’re mine,” he repeated his words he said back in the kitchen. 

And the smile you gave him told him all he needed to know, and he leaned back in to kiss you again, and continued to until the water turned cold.

[withahappyrefrain]

Run Me Dry-Bradley Bradshaw

Summary: You and Bradley try something new in bed.

Warnings: language, Bradley's cock , oral (f! receiving), fucking from the back, this is just pure filth

Everything about him was warm. The hairs of his mustache sent electric sparks throughout your body. His tanned skin. His lips. God, his lips. Bradley’s lips felt like heaven. 

Every kiss, every grasp of his hands, every flick of his tongue pulled you deeper and deeper into a pleasure filled haze. 

Bradley was attentive. The intense gaze radiated off your skin, his whiskey casted eyes constantly watching you, looking out for any change in your body movements or pitch in the moans rolling off your tongue. He was deliberate, immediately adjusting the angle his fingers were thrusting inside of you, the intensity of which he sucked your clit upon noticing any change, be it the pitch in your breathing or sounds of your moans. 

You had tried to pull him up by grasping his soft golden brown strands of hair, wanting to return the favor, but he wasn’t having it. 

Bradley found you addicting. You were sweet inside and out. Your skin, your lips, your moans. If he could spend the rest of your life between your thighs, he'd die a happy man. 

But you were a bit selfish (more so than you let on). As incredible as his mouth was, as nimble and strategic his fingers were, despite how absolutely divine it felt to look down and see his mouth working your soaked core, 

you wanted to be full of him. 

So instead of meagerly gripping his hair after coming down from your third (or fourth?) high, you practically yanked on the strands, forcing Bradley to look up, finally giving your poor cunt some rest. 

His lips quickly found yours, his body covering like a blanket. How were his lips perpetually soft? How did you manage to get this dream of a man in your arms? 

How could you get him to fuck you now?

The questions rolled through your head like waves. While the first two required a deeper level of inquiry, the third one didn’t. Bradley wouldn’t make a move unless you explicitly stated your desires for it, a result of being raised by Carole Bradshaw. 

No amount of whines, moans, or hip rolling would be enough. Bradley needed your words. 

Words were becoming easier to find with him. The doubts that had originally clouded your head were slowly but surely forming into small rain drops, getting easier and easier to wash away with each passing day. 

It still took you time to form the words. Not that Bradley mind, patient as ever. Always ready to go at your own pace. Partly because his mother did in fact, raise a gentleman. But mainly because he was so in love with you that the idea of scaring you off terrified him. 

“What’cha need Birdie?” When he said your nickname in that deep, raspy voice, you felt your body practically melt. Your head felt like cotton, dizzy and full. Your lips parted and closed several times. Words were escaping you. 

Your hand would have to do. 

Bradley Bradshaw truly believed he had hit the fucking lottery with you. 

How someone so smart, so kind, so observant and sweet and loving and beautiful would pick him of all people (Bob was right there) blew his mind. Some days he worried that he would wake up at the Naval Medical Center to find out this was all a drug-induced coma. 

He was trying to be a gentleman, and had even planned to take you out on a nice date, the little Italian place Jake and Venus recommended. But then you came out of the bedroom in that adorable little sundress, the citrus pattern reminding Bradley of what else he’d like to sink his teeth into. 

It was only meant to be a heated kiss. Did Bradley know better? Did he know that one kiss would lead to more, which would lead to falling onto the bed with you? 

Absolutely. 

But he also knew you would tell him to stop, to cut it out, to get ready for dinner, if you really wanted to. 

“Do you still want to go to dinner?” He asked, ignoring that the fabric of your dress had been pushed up to your hips and his shirt was completely unbuttoned. 

You chuckled, eyes bright, “No. Not at all. C-can we keep going?”

It was absolutely unfair, how cute you were. In the back of his mind, Bradley still felt like you deserved better. Someone younger, someone whose job didn’t require risking their life, someone who could be with you all the time. 

And yet, despite all that information, you still welcomed him with open arms, still clung to him when you had plenty of reasons to run away. 

Right now, Bradley was glad you were clinging onto him, your soft, cool skin a welcomed reprise. He would have been alright with just clinging, relishing in the sensation of your skin against his, two sets of lips all over each other. 

Like a bird strike, you surprised Bradley, throwing him for a loop. Your hand reaching past the waistband of his boxer briefs, wrapping itself around his cock made him freeze, mentally willing himself not to come right then and there. 

That spitfire side of you was slowly but surely coming out. Last night it was through a cheeky response to Jake and his wife, Venus. 

Tonight, it was when you looked up at him, your hand gently wrapping around his shaft. Despite your chest heaving and shaky breathing, you didn’t break eye contact as your thumb tenderly swiped the head of his cock, eliciting a whimper from Bradley that was downright delectable. 

“B-Bradley,” your voice was soft, almost meek, “W-want you.”

Some day, he’ll ask you to specifically say you want his cock inside you. Today was not that day, which was fine. The fact you took the initiative to state your wants thrilled Bradley to no end. He didn’t even have to encourage you. 

He pressed a firm kiss to your forehead. “That’s my girl, telling me what she wants,” He cooed, ignoring the warmth that was flooding your face, “I’m gonna get a condom, okay? You wait right here.”

Yes, here. On your back. 

Again. 

Sex with Bradley was phenomenal, euphoric even. But there was always room for growth. 

It wasn’t anything he was doing wrong. Fuck, he was practically perfect, always checking in on you, focused on your comfort rather than his own pleasure. Before Bradley? Sex felt uncomfortable, something you were just supposed to do. Staring at the ceiling had become a hobby to help pass the time. 

But now that you had experienced sex with Bradley Nicholas Bradshaw, it was obvious that sex was quite the opposite. Now, having acquired such vital knowledge, you wanted to explore, to experiment. 

You wanted to try something besides missionary. 

The position had many positives. Being able to hold hands, to kiss, to watch his handsome face twist in pleasure as he came. But, the desire to try something else, something less wholesome, lurked inside you, growing with each bedroom experience. 

What would it be like to ride him? You could look down and see him come, see him fall apart just like he could with you. Would he let you control the pace? Or would he place those stupidly large hands on your hips, dictating the rhythm with his sheer strength?

What if you couldn’t see him? What if he couldn’t see your face because it was buried in a pillow? Oh, to be on your knees for Bradley Bradshaw and allow him to take you-that’s what you desired most of all, what you thought of when alone at night with just your hand and toys. 

He was strong enough to manipulate you into such positions. But Carole Bradshaw raised a gentleman. Bradley would never do that-unless you explicitly asked. 

Just the very thought of asking had your stomach in knots, your tongue tied. If you stayed in your current position, Bradley would still make you see stars. But the idea of it becoming mundane would still gnaw at you and wouldn’t stop until it was all-consuming, making you blurt it out at the worst time. 

A Navy Ball was coming up next month and Bradley had already asked you to be his date. You couldn’t risk it. Loose lips sink ships, especially when fueled by wine. 

But how could you even ask? Hey, can you fuck me doggy style? Hey, I know we’ve only been dating for like a month, but can you manhandle me?

Perhaps words wouldn’t be needed. You thought back to earlier, when you had wrapped a hand around Bradley’s cock. He instantly knew what you wanted, even though you said four words at most. 

So you moved, quietly. Flipping over so you were now on your stomach, propping yourself up on your hands and knees. Arching your back, revealing your bare cunt. 

God, you felt ridiculous. 

“Holy fuck- Nori.” His special nickname for you wasn't said in its usual saccharine laced mischievous tone. 

No. It was deep and raspy. A primal moan that made your thighs clench. 

While you were worried about looking ridiculous, Bradley was trying to remember where he kept his mother’s engagement ring. 

He was pretty sure it was the sock draw in his dresser. Bradley was also pretty sure his mother's soul would come down from heaven and personally smite him if he proposed right now. 

But the urge to do so was justified in Bradley's mind, considering you were on his bed looking like a fucking goddess with your back arched, ass up to show off your bare cunt to him, moonlight decorating your arched back. 

Bradley quickly closed the gap between your bed and the doorway. Part of you wanted to look up, the other part too scared. A large hand ghosted over your skin, starting at your neck, down your back, stopping just short of your ass. 

The hand came back up your body, as if he was trying to commit every mark, mole, stretchmark, to memory. You were positive your breathing could be heard from two rooms over. Finally, fingers traced over the curve of your ear, landing at your chin, tilting it up. 

“Is this how you want me to fuck you?” His voice was low. You would have found it sexy if it weren’t for how rhetorical his question was. 

“Actually, I was hoping for reverse cowgirl.”  The words came out before you could even think. Immediately, regret washed over your body. 

But Bradley simply chuckled. You had tried to hide that sharp mouth side of you. It was a side you had been made to push down and stow away for years. 

“No one wants to date a girl like that.” “No one wants a teacher like that.”

Bradley loved it. You still recalled the way he howled when you accidentally revealed your first impression of him. He wanted to see more of that side and most importantly, he wanted to have fun with it. 

Of course, words still could have consequences. 

The sound of his hand smacking against your ass echoed throughout the room. What was louder? That sound or the moan you let out?

You could feel the bed dip as he got on, pressing his weight down. God, he was so big. Height had never been a factor when it came to who you dated. But it sent you into a tizzy when you were reminded how big, how strong he was. 

Fuck, did you have a size kink?

This revelation had to be explored for later because right now you couldn’t think about anything else aside from the fact Bradley’s cock was sliding through your slicked folds. 

Screw being polite. Screw being reserved. You rocked yourself backwards, shamelessly hoping to catch his cock, to feel him inside you, even if it’s just the tip. 

Bradley’s hands gripped the soft flesh of your hips, steadying you, “Easy Birdie. Don’t wanna hurt ya.”

Why was he so endearing? Why was he always a gentleman? Why was he so just, perfect?

Every day, that question becomes less prominent in your mind. Maybe it was a good thing. Definitely something to talk to your therapist about. 

“You ready?” Bradley’s voice was a much needed reprise from your internal debates. Eagerly, you nodded your head. 

“Wanna hear ya say it baby girl,” He leaned over, his body covering yours like a weighted blanket. Looking up, you only received a glimpse of him. The intensity of his amber eyes was nearly all too much. 

“Yeah,” you whispered, breathless, “I-I’m ready.”

Bradley leaned over to press a soft kiss against your warm cheek, “That’s my girl.”

His girl. You were his girl. 

He leaned forward, guiding his cock to your welcoming entrance. Even though it was just his head, the stretch made you rock forward, hands clutching the bedsheets. You and Bradley had done this dance enough times that you knew to let him lead, to take it slow so as to not injure you. 

It was just as hard for Bradley as it was for you. You were so warm, inviting. 

“Shit,” his voice was shaky, as if he had just done over a hundred pushups on the turmac, “So fucking wet for me, Nori..” 

Your eyes screwed shut in pleasure, a small ah-huh falling from your lips. It's overwhelming, slowly feeling every inch of him. This fullness was new, and you honestly weren’t sure if you would ever get used to it. Just when you thought you were ready, he leaned forward, reminding you he wasn’t all the way in yet. 

Fuck. 

“Taking me so well,” Bradley’s breath was hot on your ear, “Want me to start moving?” 

“P-please,” you nod eagerly, mustering up all your strength to get that one word out. Your fingers gripped the bedsheets, not that it prepared you when he thrusted forward. 

The new angle allowed Bradleys cock to immerse itself even deeper inside you. He started off slow, building up to a rhythm that has you seeing stars behind your eyelids. It's addicting, feeling so full that the only thing you can do is pay your head against the pillow as whimpers fall from your mouth into the fabric, muffling the sound. 

Bradley sees this and stills his hips because if he can’t watch your beautiful face contorted in pleasure, he certainly wants to hear it. 

“Baby,” He leans over, “Wanna hear all those pretty noises you make.”

For once, you oblige without hesitation. To Bradley’s surprise (and pleasure), you prop yourself on your elbows, leaning back to fully immerse yourself on his cock. A broken moan fell from your lips, echoing off the walls of your bedroom. The verdict was still out on whether heaven was real or not, but you imagined Bradley’s cock was a similar sensation. 

Bradley has similar thoughts as he watches, memorized by the way you work yourself on his cock. Your moans were prettier than any song he had ever heard. 

“Look at you,” he clicked his tongue, “you’re right where you belong.”

Your walls clenched at his words, drawing out an animalistic grunt from Bradley. His praise spurred you on because yes, you did belong right here, with his cock inside you. You were his, his girl to use. 

But he was so big and you hadn’t anticipated how full you would feel at this angle. Soon, you found yourself tiring out, having bitten off more than you could chew.

“Roo,” you whined, hands clutching the bedsheets, “Need…..fuck…..need help.”

Bradley’s hands found your hips, gripping the soft flesh, “Don’t worry, I got ya. It’s so much for you, huh? My cock?”

“Y-yeah,” you nodded, practically sighing in relief upon feeling him pull you back on his cock, filling you completely. The sound of his skin slapping against yours quickly filled the room. It was obscene, combined with the lewd sounds of your wetness. 

You fucking loved it. This type of sex, animalistic and possessive, always sparked a curiosity in you. But bringing it up to previous partners had scared you; the thought of rejection, or worse, disgust, driving you off. 

Not with Bradley. 

With Bradley, you could not only bring it up, but you felt like you could be bold. Could actually state what you wanted, with words or actions. It’s why you felt no shame in taking one of his hands and bringing it down to where you two met. 

“Need help, Birdie?” His voice was so raspy. Combined with the way he was panting, it was one of, if not the hottest thing you had ever heard. 

“Please,” you whined, barely able to get the single word out due to how his cock was hitting that spot that made you see stars behind your eyes. 

“So fucking sweet, y’know that?” His hand moved up your body until it arrived at your mouth, his long fingers tapping at your lips, “Need your help. You can do that, right? ‘Course you can, ‘cause you’re my sweet girl.”

Your lips parted, moaning around his fingers as you went to his knuckles, covering his nimble digits in your spit. Bradley had to will himself not to come right then and there. It was ridiculous, how hot you were and how unaware you were about the fact. How your previous partners let that go was beyond him. 

“Good girl,” he cooed, reveling in how your tongue was desperately trying to coat his fingers. You nodded along, practically gagging on his fingers. 

He pulled away, returning to where his hand was originally placed. The calloused pads of his fingers felt divine on your clit. All worries and anxieties had exited your head, the only thing you could focus on was how good he felt, how good it felt to be fucked by Bradley Bradshaw. 

Bradley knew you were close from the way your tight walls clenched on his cock. You needed just a little more, a little something to push you over the edge. 

Thinking back to earlier this week, when you two were in the kitchen, he leaned over, his chest covering your back. Before you could verbally acknowledge it, a large hand wrapped itself around your throat, restricting your airflow. 

Almost immediately, your thighs began to shake, head dizzy from the lack of oxygen. It was so much, you weren’t sure what to focus on: his thick cock that was sending electric shocks along your body, the way his long fingers spanned the eternity of your neck, the fingertips that were drawing sloppy circles on your throbbing clit. The hairs of his mustache that were tickling the shell of your ear, the downright filth he was whispering. 

“That’s it, fuckin’ take it. God, you were fuckin’ made for this. Made to take my cock, weren’t ya? Ya hear that?” He paused, allowing  you to hear the lewd squelching sound coming from where your bodies connected, “That’s how wet ya are. Ya like this, like when I fuck you like a whore?”

You wailed, “Yes!” No shame in your voice, zero hesitation, all partly out of fear that if you didn’t respond, Bradley would stop. And you were so close.

 “God, so fucking hot and you don’t even know it, do ya? Knew you were a dirty girl.” 

HIs words sent you over the edge. Maybe you should have felt some shame at what he was saying, but the truth of it was you loved it. Bradley’s moans echoed off the walls as he felt you practically clamped down on his cock, your walls spasming, making it almost difficult for him to continue his thrusts. But he continued, knowing it was what you needed to prolong your pleasure. 

“That’s it, soak my cock. Needed this so bad, didn’t you?” You nodded, babbling about something, probably begging him not to stop. Whether you actually said that or not, Bradley acted accordingly. His thrusts continued, his own hips beginning to stutter as he felt himself get closer to the edge. 

Both of his hands now tightly gripped your hips, enabling him to continue to hover over you. Making you come gave him a better high than any other drug or air maneuver ever could. 

He pulled your hips to his with one last thrust, coming with a groan of your name. One day, you would be able to feel him come inside, be able to be filled with his cum. 

That required an actual discussion. 

But for now, you could take pleasure in feeling his cock twitch, knowing it was your doing. For now, you could lay here in bed, his warm skin covering you like a weighted blanket, as you both came down from your highs. 

Bradley pressed a soft kiss, first to the shell of your ear, then to your cheek, finally stopping at the corner of your lips, “Gonna pull out now, okay?” 

You could only nod, slightly winching when he pulled out, now able to feel just how much you had comed. 

“I’ll be right back, pretty girl. Gonna get a washcloth.” God, did you really come that much? Heat rushed to your face upon realizing it was your arousal dripping down to your thighs. 

“Here, let’s get ya on your back,” Bradley’s large hands help maneuver your body. Your limbs felt like JellO, quickly accepting his help. The soft mattress was a godsend, your body quickly sinking into your soft bed. His hands were now gentle, wiping you down with great care. He knew you had to be sore, even if you didn’t currently feel it. 

Your hands found themselves grabbing Bradley’s shoulders, trying to pull him towards you. 

Bradley chuckled, quickly receiving your message, “I gotcha, I gotcha sweet girl. C’mere.” 

He laid down, pulling your body towards him until your head was able to rest on his broad chest. A blanket was pulled up to cover you both. You found yourself snuggling into Bradley’s side as you processed what just happened. 

“You good Birdie?” Bradley asked, his fingers lazily drawing shapes on your back. 

“Holy shit.” 

Bradley couldn’t help but throw his head back and laugh at your words, “That good, huh?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, breathing still shaky, “Really fucking good.” 

His arm wrapped itself around your waist, giving you a gentle squeeze, “Looks like we both had a great time.” 

You simply nodded, a giddy smile appearing on your face, “We should do it again. Soon.”

Bradley chuckled, shaking his head, “Unfortunately, I’m no longer a spry young chicken. Gonna have to wait, Birdie.”

You looked up at him, your grin widening upon seeing his ruddy cheeks and a look in his eyes that could best be described as love, even though you didn’t want to assume. Not yet. 

“I’ll wait for you. It’s worth it.” Heat rushed to Bradley’s face, a beautiful flush adorning his handsome features. He bit his tongue, afraid that the three words that were threatening to spill out might scare you off. So instead, he pressed a kiss to your forehead, reveling in the feeling of your warm body pressed against his. 

If given the choice, Bradley would stay here forever with you. 

You feel the same way.

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

@gretagerwigsmuse @cherrycola27 @idunnowhattonamethis @st4rs-l1ghts @lyn-js @bellaireland1981 @melblueberry @callsign-cacti @jb3ar08 @bringbacktim @venusdiorarmstrong @9ullmans @ssavanessa22 @sometimesanalice @izz-ayes-world @idontcare-11 @phoenixhalliwell @teacupsandtopgun @rae-gar-targaryen @blue-aconite @ryebecca @dissonannce @roosterforme @bradshawsbaby

[peachesandcreames]

Decisions, Decisions 🥵🔥

[scottishaccentsareawesome]

(about their anniversary) Rooster:…Tell Phoenix about last year! Hangman: Oh, well, I bought Bradley a $500 watch and he wrote me a rap song. Phoenix(to Rooster): Seriously?! Rooster: Word.

[topgun-imagines]

Permanent State of Oblivion

Requested: yes

Summary: Despite all the times you have tried to make your feelings for the mustached pilot obvious, he still hasn't caught on. You make things clear one night at the Hard Deck.

Word count: 3.2k

Warnings: drinking, arguments, angsty feelings.

Pairings: Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x fem!reader

“I just- I don’t know what to do about him, Nat.” You were seated across from Natasha on her bed, hand in hers as she worked on your nails. One well-kept secret about Phoenix was that she was incredibly talented in nail art; a secret that you regularly capitalized on as her best friend. She often used you for practice, like she was doing right now. Silently, the pilot nodded, used to your ranting about Bradley by now. “He’s just so- so oblivious.”

Unbeknownst to Bradley, you’d had a massive crush on him for months. You had been friends with the mustached pilot for nearly three years. He was an amazing friend, and in that department, you couldn’t ask for more. The only issue that you had was that apparently, Bradley was blinder than a bat. No matter how hard you tried or how obvious you made it, Bradley never picked up on your crush on him.

Normally, you wouldn’t mind that your feelings remained a secret, however; your feelings had reached the point where you knew they weren’t going away anytime soon. The only option left was to try and tell Bradley how you felt.

Painting one of the roses on your nails, Nat weighed in on the situation. “He’s an idiot.” Her choice of words had you stifling a giggle, receiving a playful glare when your hand twitched. You murmured an apology as she continued. “The only way he’s gonna realize how you feel is if you’re straightforward about it.”

A groan bubbled out of your chest. You hated confrontation. Surely if Bradley was smart enough to be in the top one percent of all naval aviators, he was smart enough to realize your feelings for him. Right?

“I know, I know,” You started, “I just wish he could open his eyes for once.”

“Maybe if he shut his mouth for once his eyes would have some room to work,” Phoenix muttered, knowing exactly how stubborn the pilot was. The two of you descended into giggles as Natasha finished off your nails.

Before you knew it, the two of you were in your car, blasting music as you drove to the hard deck. Jake had organized a night out for the group, and the two of you certainly weren’t ones to pass on a fun night out with friends. As Natasha hadn’t hesitated to point out, maybe you would finally get the chance to tell Bradley how you felt.

You pulled into the parking lot and parked beside Jake’s truck. The two of you hopped out and headed into the bar, already plotting what interesting drink orders you could try and get Penny to make this time. The second you stepped into the bar, you were greeted loudly by the group of aviators. With large smiles, you and Phoenix joined the group and were quickly pulled into whatever idiotic story Jake was telling. Unsurprisingly, your eyes quickly found Bradley.

Phoenix pretended that she couldn’t see how your stare lingered on your coworker. While you knew that Phoenix knew, you were oblivious to the fact that Jake and Bob had also figured out your little secret. Natasha forbade them from saying anything or trying to persuade Bradley into doing anything stupid. God only knows that if they told that fool to make a move on you he’d find some way to mess it up.

As Jake rambled on about some hilarious incident from his recent vacation back in Texas, you couldn’t help but imagine what would happen if you told Bradley the truth. Honestly, you were tired of wasting time. You didn’t want to miss out on anything anymore. Even if Bradley didn’t feel the same, you needed to know. At least then you would be able to move on knowing that nothing could ever happen between the two of you.

Natasha’s elbow in your side pulled you out of your depressing thoughts. She fixed you with a knowing look, leaning over to whisper in your ear as the rest of the group dispersed at the end of Jake's story. “Tell him,” she urged you quietly. “We both know that he’ll never figure it out on his own.” And with that, you mustered up all the courage that you could before disappearing into the crowd to find Bradley.

Suddenly, Bob and Jake popped up over Natasha’s shoulder. “Twenty bucks says the dumbass still finds a way to screw it up.” Bob and Natasha hummed in agreement.

By the bar top, you were just about to call out to Penny to ask where Bradley was when you spotted it; a brightly coloured Hawaiian shirt and a pornstache that could put all the rest to shame. It took a couple of minutes of maneuvering through the intoxicated crowd, but eventually, you were standing right behind him. At the soft tap on his shoulder, Bradley spun quickly, surprised to find you standing there.

“Hey Bradshaw,” you started, “There’s something I need to talk to you about.” He nodded for you to continue. “I just wanted to tell you that-” Before you could finish your sentence, you were interrupted by some blonde winding her arms around his shoulders and peppering kisses up the side of his neck. Your words died in your throat as you started at the scene in front of you. Bradley didn’t even try to push her off. You felt sick to your stomach.

Noticing the tears welling in your eyes, the blonde smirked. “Sorry, did I interrupt something?” She sounded innocent, as if she didn’t know exactly what she was doing by trailing her finger across his chest and sucking a mark into the skin of his neck. You could only shake your head, feeling bile rise in your throat. The room suddenly seemed hot; you were desperate to find a way out of there. Before you knew it, you were shoving your way through the crowd and out the door of the bar.

With the blonde still clinging to his side, Bradley looked around the room in confusion. He met Natasha’s stern gaze and instantly knew that he had screwed it up somehow. Bradley huffed and pushed the blonde off of him, rolling his eyes at the scoff she let out. Then he was following after you, leaving the chaos of the bar behind him as he chased you into the parking lot. “Hey!” He called out, hand grasping your wrist. “What the hell is your problem?”

You jerked your wrist out of his hand and spun to face him angrily. Your face was hot with anger and Bradley could have sworn he saw steam coming from your ears. Despite all this, he could see tears welling in your eyes. “My problem?” You seethed, stepping dangerously close to him and jabbing a finger into his chest. “My problem, Bradshaw, is that you’re ignorant enough to let that- that slut hang off your arm without a care in the world!”

It killed you to see him standing there with her, but what was worse than all of that, was the fact that he didn’t care in the slightest. It’s not like she was someone he was seeing; she was just a random face in the bar. Somehow, that made things worse to bear.

Bradley scoffed and dismissively shoved your finger away from his chest. “Why the fuck do you care?” You could only stare at him, searching for the words he wanted to hear. “That chick had nothing to do with you, and you know that so what the fuck is your problem?” He paused, his words cutting deep as you searched for a response.

Behind him, the bar door opened revealing Jake, Bob, and Natasha. They watched silently as you continued to rip into each other.

“You know what, you fucking dick?” You were close to him once more; so close that you could smell the alcohol on his breath. “You are the most ignorant, self-absorbed person I have ever met.” With each accusation, you drove your finger into his chest harder, despite his attempts at brushing it off. “You are so wrapped up in your own bullshit that you don’t even notice who you’re hurting!”

You had never spoken to him like this before. Sure, there had been little arguments here and there, but the rage that he saw in your eyes now was something new entirely. A single, angry tear dripped down your face. “You don’t think about anyone besides yourself! You certainly don’t care about them. And believe me, Bradshaw, you have made that more than obvious.”

The pilot in front of you scoffed once more, having no retort for your deep jab at his character. Of course, he cared for the people around him, and for you to suggest otherwise was, in his mind, unfathomable.

However, you didn’t stop there. “You are absolutely unbelievable! You are so oblivious it’s painful, Bradshaw. You must have your head stuck up your ass to miss every single hint I’ve been giving you for months!” You paused for a moment, waiting for Bradley to interject.

He didn’t, refusing to believe anything you said to be true. There was no way that you could have feelings for him. Was there?

He shook his head in annoyance. “You still haven’t answered my question,” he pointed out, hating how easily you were able to sidestep it. “Why the fuck do you care who I flirt with?” His voice was loud, even scaring those watching from the front steps of the bar. Bradley figured that you were probably having a bad day and had taken your anger out on him. Even though he hoped that this wasn’t the case and that you actually did care about who was flirting with him. It was wishful thinking; to imagine that you would ever see him as anything more than an annoying friend. He was sure of it.

You could only groan angrily with tears still tracking down your skin. “Jesus, Bradshaw, because I love you, you fucking idiot!” It was as if time stood still. That was what it felt like as you watched Bradley process the reality of the words that you had just shouted at him. No movement came from the pilot in front of you; the only sign of life being the rapid rise and fall of his chest.

He couldn’t believe what he’d heard. There was no way it could be true. There was no way that a kind-hearted, sweet girl like yourself could ever fall for anyone as messed up as him. To Bradley, the mere idea of you having feelings for him was unfathomable.

For months, he had watched you from afar, not wanting to overstep any boundaries. He slowly began to learn what you loved, from your favourite song to sing along to when you were drunk at 2 am to your favourite flavour of ice cream. Bradley learned what made you laugh until your stomach hurt and what made you cry until your cheeks were stained. He knew every little thing about you but he never acted on it, in fear that you would never feel the same. To know that all this time, you had feelings for him as well, was surreal.

The deafening silence grew between the two of you, moving until it encompassed the bystanders waiting in front of the bar with bated breath. Continuing to stare at the pilot, your mind was running a million miles a minute. What had you just done? Sure, the two of you were arguing, but that was no reason to bear your true feelings to the man. What if he didn’t feel the same? You were convinced that this had to be the case when he refused to move a muscle.

“Bradley,” you whispered, nerves showing through the shake in your voice. “Please, say something.” Your mind plagued you with thoughts of the worst-case scenario. You were fully expecting him to turn around and storm off, refusing to ever speak to you again. With tears filling your eyes once more, you pleaded one last time. “Bradl-”

Your eyes widened as Bradley cut you off in a way you would have never expected. In one fluid, sudden motion, Bradley had lunged toward you, his lips moulding softly with yours. His hands cradled your waist, holding you as if you were a delicate flower. You could have sworn you heard yourself squeak but honestly, you were too overwhelmed to tell.

As Bradley continued to kiss you gently, your eyes fluttered shut. You became lost in the feeling of his hand caressing your side. His pinky finger slipped under the hem of your top, drawing a light gasp from your lips. The kiss deepened as Bradley pulled you towards him by your waist and as your hand worked into his soft curls at the base of his neck.

A soft giggle slipped past your lips as that familiar pornstache that you were used to making fun of was now tickling your upper lip. The pilot smiled into the kiss at the feeling, pulling back to rest his forehead against yours lovingly mere seconds later. “Does that answer your question?” He whispered, causing more giggles to flow from your mouth. You could only nod, still starstruck by the actions of the man holding you.

For the second time this evening, you were close enough to the pilot that you were able to smell his breath. While the faint scent of alcohol was still present, you were now able to pick up the familiar scent of your strawberry lip gloss. One glance at his parted lips was enough for you to see the slight pink hue that your lip gloss caused him.

There was a lovestruck smile on his face; a stark contrast to the anger shining in his eyes merely twenty minutes ago. Admiration shone in his eyes as he looked down at you. While he knew that he never stated it clearly, he was in awe of the wonderful woman that you were. As he thought about how perfect you were, guilt for the way he spoke to you before began to eat at him.

He cleared his throat, needing to make amends for his actions. “Seriously, though,” He started, eyes softening as he recalled the events from earlier. “I’m so sorry for how I acted earlier. What I said was completely uncalled for and out of line.” The corners of your mouth twitched up in a forgiving smile as you reached up to stroke the corner of his mustache with your thumb. Bradley wrapped you up in his arms, rocking the two of you softly. “I love you so, so much, baby girl.”

Your hand trailed from his soft cheek to the back of his neck as he shifted the two of you, fingers once again threading through the short curls. Warm, ocean air breezed past the two of you as Bradley held you close. Behind you, the sun was setting beautifully over the ocean. It painted the parking lot with a soft, pink glow. No matter how many sunsets you had seen before, for some reason, this one was the most beautiful. It was almost as if the beauty of the sunset reflected your feelings for each other. Despite the rocky road that it took you to get here, no moment had ever seemed as perfect as this one.

Unsurprisingly, your moment of bliss was quickly interrupted by the other aviators waiting at the steps of the bar. Your friends gradually made their way closer, unable to contain their questions and comments any longer. You felt Bradley sigh into the skin of your neck before he kissed it softly, causing butterflies to swarm in your chest. With your head still tucked into his chest, you felt a blush begin to creep up your neck at the realization that your friends had likely watched the whole event unfold. Despite the flush in your cheeks, you still made eye contact with each of them, dreading the inevitable bombardment of questions that were bound to come.

Even as you stood in front of your friends, ready to explain the rollercoaster of a scene they just witnessed, Bradley’s arms remained wound around your waist. His thumb moved over the bare skin of your side softly, leaving goosebumps in his wake. “No need to explain.” Nat offered with a reassuring smile. She could sense that you were hesitant to have to explain it all so quickly. Plus, she knew that she would get the details soon enough.

Together, Bob, Jake, and Nat offered you their congratulations before turning to head back to the bar. With his arm still around your waist, you and Bradley follow your friends in sync with each other. Your still-rosy cheek rested against his broad shoulder.

Jake wasted no time in collecting his winnings from the previous bet, pumping his fist in the air as Bob and Nat each handed Jake a 20. In the back of your mind, you briefly wonder why they handed him the cash in the first place. Once the five of you re-entered the air-conditioned comfort of the bar, Jake turned to you and Bradley, announcing that drinks were on him with that familiar, shit-eating grin on his face. That alone should have been enough to tell you that there was more to the story than you suspected.

Despite the weariness in both yours and Bradley’s minds, if Jake was offering to buy your drinks, who were you to turn it down? Just as you were about to take a sip of your beer, Bob piped up. “He bet you’d screw it up,” He quipped, grinning at the mixture of betrayal and shock written on Jake’s face that instantly took over his previous cocky expression. Within seconds Bradley had smacked his arm. While he was slightly annoyed that Jake had bet against him, he was more upset about the fact that he allowed Jake to win.

Bob and Phoenix continued to laugh at Jake’s dejected expression as you and Bradley watched fondly. The aviator pulled you into his side with gentle movements and your head fell onto his shoulder the second you were snuggled up against him.

In a state of bliss, you allowed your eyes to slip shut. You could only savour the feeling of being held in the arms of the man you loved. Tucked into Bradley’s side, you couldn’t think of anywhere else you would rather be. Turning his head, Bradley pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, which caused a glowing smile to blossom on your face. A giggle escaped you at the feeling of his mustache tickling your skin, leading to a smile mirroring your own taking over his sculpted features.

Sure, it had been a rocky road to get here, but you would do it all over again if it meant feeling like this for a moment longer. You loved Bradley, and it brought you more relief than one could ever imagine to know that he felt the same for you.

Simply put, you were ecstatic. Ecstatic that you no longer had to keep your feelings a secret. Ecstatic that you could see a future blossoming between you and Bradley. Despite not knowing what that future held, you were positive that you and Bradley would be together for a long, long time to come.

However, one thing was for certain; Bradley Bradshaw was the most oblivious man you knew.

a/n: Thank you for reading! Requests are open. I’m excited to be back <3

[kcsplace]

Top Gun Silliness

[enthyrea]

topguntober days 7-11! the first is forced proximity and exes, and the second is date night, holding hands, and confession 🤍

prompts are from here!

[tongue-like-a-razor]

Doctor Doctor, Gimme The News | Part II

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Doctor!Reader

Summary: You receive a particularly difficult patient by the name of Bradshaw and you try your best to resist his charms.

CW: tall Bradley, Mavdad, it's still goofy XD

WC: 1800+

Part 1 | Masterlist

You’re sitting at the bar with a drink in your hand, waiting for your friend to finish flirting with the bartender so you can pay your tab, when you hear a familiar voice from behind.

“Almost didn’t recognized you without the stethoscope.”

You glance over your shoulder wearily, instantly recognizing the tall aviator you met at the clinic earlier in the week. Bradshaw, was it? “Yeah, I get that a lot,” you say, giving him a polite smile before turning away.

Bradley doesn’t take the hint and plants himself on the barstool next to you. “So, are you gonna tell me your name? Or am I just gonna have to keep calling you Doc? Might get a bit awkward in bed.”

You snort into your drink as you’re taking a sip. Bradley grins, clearly pleased that he’s made you laugh. His slightly narrowed eyes sweep over your face with a quiet confidence, and you find yourself rather enjoying his attention. “Well, for the sake of making things less awkward,” you respond with a small smile, and then tell him your name.

“It’s nice to meet you,” he says, and then leans forward slightly to add, “again.”

You bite into your lip to suppress your widening grin.

“I was hoping I’d run into you, actually,” he comments, turning away to flag down the otherwise occupied bartender.

“Oh yeah?” you ask, feigning surprise.

“Yeah,” Bradley responds, tapping on his beer bottle and nodding at the bartender. He turns back to you and shrugs. “Saves me from having to fake an illness to come see you.”

You eye him somewhat reproachfully. “That would be extremely inappropriate.”

Bradley laughs. “If you think that’s inappropriate, I’m not gonna tell you what I planned on doing once I got there.”

Your eyes widen at the insinuation. “Lieutenant!” you exclaim.

Bradley continues chuckling. “Don’t worry, you’d have liked it.” He winks and then nods at the bartender who’s brought him his beer.

You stare at him because his boldness is mindboggling. “You shouldn’t be drinking with a head injury,” you point out.

He looks at you with amusement. “What head injury?”

“The one that brought you to my office?”

“You know what brought me to your office?” he says, and then points a thumb over his shoulder at a crowded table near the back of the bar. “Captain Maverick Mitchell. My self-appointed father figure,” he says in a tone that’s half-grudging, half-affectionate. “And possibly fate,” he adds as an afterthought.

You blink at him skeptically when he glances back at you. “Wow,” you say. “Pulling out the big guns.”

Bradley laughs again. “I have quite the arsenal.”

“Oh, I bet,” you say with a chuckle. “Aviator, right?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Bradley responds proudly. Then he nods at the glass you bring to your lips. “Looks like you need a refill.”

You shake your head. “I was about to head out actually.”

Bradley purses his lips and narrows his eyes. “But then I arrived and changed your mind, right?”

You laugh slightly. “Not quite, Lieutenant,” you respond, rising from your stool and waving at the bartender. “I’ve got an early morning.”

Bradley gets out of his seat and pulls out his wallet. “Allow me, please,” he says.

“That’s not necessary,” you reply uncomfortably. You don’t like feeling indebted to anyone.

Bradley gives you a more serious look. “It’s the least I could do for nagging you this evening.”

You can’t help the smile that spreads of its own accord. You find Bradley reasonably attractive, sure. But it’s the way he carries himself that’s really got you hooked. You can hardly pull your gaze away. “Don’t forget about the part where you were the most obnoxious patient.”

Bradley lets out a hearty laugh. “That deserves a whole pint, Doc.”

You give him a smile. “Maybe another time,” you say politely. Despite his persistence, you can’t jeopardize your position at the clinic by consorting with a patient.

But before you turn to leave, Captain Mitchell approaches the bar and, upon perceiving you, he exclaims, “Oh! It’s the doctor!” He gestures in your direction while looking at Bradley.

Bradley gives him a flat look. “No shit,” he says.

Maverick glances between the two of you and then nods in realization. “You’ve spotted her already.”

You press your lips together to conceal a smile as Bradley brings a hand to his face like he’s thoroughly embarrassed by his ‘self-appointed father figure’. “Hello again,” you say to the captain, extending your hand.

“Good to see you, Doctor,” Maverick replies with a knowing grin, shaking your hand. “Almost didn’t recognized you without the stethoscope.”

“Oh god,” Bradley groans. “That's embarrassing.”

Maverick looks over at him with a confused expression while you giggle. “I was actually planning on scheduling him in for a follow-up,” Maverick says. “Noticed some concerning behaviors.”

You raise your eyebrows while Bradley watches Maverick’s profile incredulously.

“New behaviors?” you ask, glancing back at Bradley.

“No, no.” Maverick waves a hand nonchalantly as he settles onto a barstool. “Not new.”

Bradley shakes his head. “Why are you such a shit disturber?”

Maverick laughs and claps him on the back. “You buy the lady a drink yet?”

You drop your head slightly to hide your growing smile.

“I was trying to,” Bradley declares. “Before your ass showed up.”

You look up apologetically at the two men who are now watching you expectantly. “I’m not…thirsty.”

Maverick winces while Bradley’s shoulders visibly fall. “It’s his fault, isn’t it?” Bradley says, gesturing at Maverick with his thumb again.

“How is it my fault?” Maverick exclaims.

“It’s not his fault,” you attest, glancing at the captain.

“You should talk some more about my concerning behaviors,” Bradley retorts.

Maverick snorts. “I was kidding!” he says. “She knows!” he gestures at you. “You know, right?”

You glance between the two men patiently, wondering if they realize just how much they have in common. “Neither of you is driving tonight, right?” you ask, feeling, for some strange reason, a sense of responsibility for them.

Maverick turns to face you with a jolt. “I’m sober,” he asserts.

Bradley’s eyebrows converge in a dubious expression before he looks back at you. “He’s not driving,” he confirms.

“And you?”

“This is only my second beer!” he exclaims.

You meet his gaze with a smile because you don’t want him to feel attacked. “Okay,” you respond gently. “Drive safe.”

You start to walk away when you hear Bradley say, “Can I walk you to your car, Doc?”

You turn to face him again, about halfway to the door. “You know my name now,” you say, and he grins at you.

“I do,” he agrees. “That was for old times’ sake.”

You sigh. “Sure, Lieutenant. You can walk me to my car.”

…

Out in the parking lot, Bradley muses, “I’m thinking of maybe dislocating my shoulder next week. That’s an easy fix, right?”

You look over at him sharply. “That’s not funny.”

Bradley grins. “Not even a little?”

You roll your eyes at him and continue walking.

“Come on, Doc!” he calls after you. “My sense of humor is a good thing, remember?”

You smile to yourself and slow your pace to let him catch up. “There are other ways of getting my attention besides injuring yourself,” you remark as he falls back in step with you.

“Such as?” he asks.

You approach your car and unlock the door. “I can’t give away all the answers, can I?”

Bradley presses his lips together and grins. “Does that mean I have a shot?”

You lower your gaze coyly. “I don’t know, Lieutenant.”

“That’s not a ‘no’,” he points out.

You smile, glancing back up at him. “No,” you agree. “I suppose it’s not.”

Bradley’s eyes sparkle mischievously as he holds your gaze. “Can I take you to dinner?” he asks.

“No,” you reply almost immediately. Then, after a beat, you add, “Not yet.”

Bradley licks his lips, still grinning. “I’ll take it.”

You chuckle slightly, reaching for the door to your car.

“Can I stand here with you a little longer?” he asks, his voice a little more raspy when it isn’t bursting with confidence.

You pause, your hand still on the door, shocked at how desperately you want to oblige. How delightful it would be to just say yes on a whim. Without considering the repercussions or weighing the pros and cons. Without deliberation or apprehension. Impulsively. The word itself makes you flustered. “Okay,” you say, glancing up at him as he shifts a little closer.

Bradley smiles at you and leans his back to the car. He stands quietly for a few moments, just existing beside you, which you find both endearing and infuriating. You don’t have a lot of time on your hands and simply standing around is a colossal waste of it in your books. But something about the warm evening breeze paired with the smell of the ocean and Bradley’s crisp cologne makes the experience less harrowing, and maybe even possibly pleasant.

Still, you’re restless. “So, when you said you wanted to stand here, you actually meant stand here…” you comment.

Bradley glances down at you with an amused expression. “You got something else in mind, Doc?”

You half-snort, half-chuckle. “I just thought maybe you had something else to say. I didn’t realize we’d be standing in silence.”

Bradley grins at you. “It’s called being present.”

You study him with a slight grimace, genuinely trying to keep your cynicism at bay. Being present isn’t a kind of luxury you can often afford. Most days, you don’t even get a chance to eat sitting down. “What does that accomplish?” you ask.

Bradley, who’s still watching you with a smile, replies, “Does everything you do have a purpose?”

“Of course,” you say. “Why else would I do it?”

Bradley raises his eyebrows and puts his hands into his pockets. “That’s very practical of you.”

“It’s efficient,” you point out, trying to highlight the importance of productivity.

Bradley nods patiently. “Sounds like you need a night off, Doc.”

You laugh. “I just had a night off. But it had a purpose – my friend needed help wooing the bartender.”

Bradley chuckles. “Has the purpose ever been to just have a good time?”

You make a face and shrug. “That’s not really a priority of mine.”

“Wow, Doc, you’re a hoot,” Bradley replies facetiously.

“I warned you,” you remind him, opening your car door.

Bradley leans his arm over the frame of your car as you climb inside. “You know you leave me no choice, right?” he says, ducking his head slightly to peer into the vehicle.

“What are you talking about?” you ask, glancing up at him.

“We’re going to have to rearrange your list of priorities,” he says.

You watch him for a moment, marveling at his persistence. His gaze drops briefly to your lips before flitting back up to your eyes again, and you wonder what it might feel like to be kissed by a guy like Bradley. It would probably be sexy and spontaneous. It would probably catch you off guard and possibly even offend you a little. Then again, maybe you wouldn’t mind being mildly offended if it meant kissing Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw. “I’m not sure that’s a realistic goal,” you say. Your tone might be sarcastic, but the statement is fairly accurate.

Bradley grins. “I don’t mind a challenge.”

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