#san diego drag
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in college and missing my hometown drag scene :(
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Gremlin drag racer
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Proud Boys, III%ers, and MAGA radicals target Drag Story Hour in San Diego
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Cinco de Mayo in San Diego 🇲🇽🇺🇸🎉
#cinco de mayo#san diego#california#usa#united states#america#vacation#holiday#nightlife#fun#fun times#club#music#drag#good times#good vibes#gaslampquarter#gaslamp quarter#hillcrest#city#cousins#family#queer#lgbt#lgbtq#lgbtqia#weekend#may#travel#wanderlust
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Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 20 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Bradley gets the update he's been waiting for. You get something you weren't expecting. Neither of you can tell the other how you're feeling.
Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, romantic Bradley, 18+
Length: 3700 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader
Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist
You drove Bradley's Bronco back to his house, dragged yourself back inside, and climbed back in bed. You cried so hard when you watched him carry his duffle bag into the airport, you had painful hiccups for twenty minutes afterwards. Now you were emotionally drained and on the cusp of a headache, and this was only the first day.
With your cheek on Bradley's pillow, you pulled the covers over your head and took a few deep breaths. He didn't know much about his deployment, but the communication blackout was designed to keep you from learning anything. If something happened to him, it might be weeks before you heard about it. Your heart ached as you thought about how lonely he was going to feel after he made it a point to tell you how much he loved getting mail from your class last time.
You felt your phone vibrate in your pocket, and you scrambled to get it out.
About to take off. I love you, Gorgeous. I'll let you know when I land.
Well, you had about six hours to kill until you would hear from him again, which felt bad enough. Then seven full weeks after that. You typed back to him with fresh tears in your eyes, and then you tried to sleep, but the hiccups came back. When you moved to the couch, it felt too cold. You were tempted to call Natasha, but if you couldn't even make it a handful of hours without Bradley, you didn't think she would be able to help you.
It would start to get better. It would have to. When your winter break ended, you'd be back in your classroom with your students. You could dive into your lesson plans for the new year. You could focus on teaching. You could do this. Because if you found out the hard way that you couldn't, then you had no business being with Bradley.
--------------------------
Bradley was given a tiny room in the barracks on base in Norfolk, and he spent the entire night talking to you on the phone. Literally six hours straight before he passed out, sound asleep, hanging halfway off the bed with his phone connected to the charger. One of the last things he remembered you saying was, "As soon as you know if it's San Diego or Norfolk, let me know. I love you."
The following morning, he was so exhausted, he was practically dizzy as he met with his commanding officer, Admiral Walker, for this new special deployment. Even his arm felt heavy as he saluted Walker in his office. It was barely seven o'clock which equated to four in the morning in San Diego, and he knew it would take him a few days to get caught back up on sleep at this point. But every second of talking to you was worth it.
"Lieutenant Bradshaw. Welcome back to the Atlantic Fleet," Walker told him, gesturing to the empty chair in the office.
"Thank you, Sir," he replied, even though he was far less than thrilled to be back in Virginia at all. The prospect of a change of station could not have come at a worse time when he spent the flight from California looking at engagement rings on his phone.
As Bradley sat down, the older man said, "We never wanted to lose you to the Pacific in the first place, so I'm sure you can understand why you'll be staying on the east coast after your seven weeks on the Gerald R. Ford is complete."
His heart sank to his feet, and he felt like he was going to throw up. "Sir?" Bradley asked. "That's it? There's no chance of me returning to North Island?"
When the response he got was a raised eyebrow, Bradley pressed his lips into a line. This man wasn't going to give a shit that he owned a house in Coronado or that he was in love with the most beautiful woman in the world who happened to work in Mira Mesa. Something told him that keeping his mouth shut was the better option right now, even though he felt like punching a hole in the wall and flipping the desk.
Walker shuffled some papers on his desk. "Plans still need to be finalized, but it is our goal, and the goal of the US Navy, to change your station to Norfolk."
The words echoed in Bradley's mind. He couldn't decide if he should tell you about this yet. It wasn't like he had signed paperwork in his hand. Until he did, as far as he was concerned, he was going back to Top Gun and the love of his life. He knew you were stressed and concerned enough as it was, and he didn't want you to have to dwell on this unless it was finalized.
"Once aboard the carrier, mission details will become available to you and the other aviators," Walker informed him. "I have a folder with your bunk assignment and some more information that you can take with you right now. You'll have access to your phone for about another hour, but as soon as you report to the carrier, it will need to be shut down and locked up. Are we clear, Lieutenant?"
Before Bradley could even respond, there was a sharp knock at the door. Walker heaved a weary sigh as his gaze left Bradley's face, and he barked, "Come in."
Of all the faces he knew from North Island, Bradley wasn't exactly sure if it was a friendly one, but when the door opened, Admiral Simpson came strolling inside in his service khakis. He couldn't fathom why his meeting was being interrupted by Cyclone, but he sat quietly with the folder in his hands.
"Admiral Walker," Beau Cyclone greeted, voice as stern as ever. "You never returned my calls, and red eye flights the week of Christmas are not something I find endearing."
Walker stood behind his desk with all of his accolades hanging on the wall behind him, and Bradley jumped to his feet as well. "Admiral Simpson," Walker replied, voice dripping with disdain. "There was no need for you to fly out in person to release your pilot to my fleet."
Bradley could hear Cyclone's knuckles crack as he watched his eye twitch. He was somehow caught in the middle of this, but it looked like the Top Gun admiral was in no mood to be outmaneuvered and lose a member of his team. Bradley silently goaded him on while he stood there completely still.
"I'm not releasing anyone to you. That's not how this works," Cyclone barked. "If you can't manage your fleet, you don't get to poach from mine."
The admirals seemed to be in a competition to see whose face could get redder. "Admiral Simpson, I'm sure you'll find my rank alone is reason enough for-"
"You do not outrank me," Cyclone interrupted, voice loud but calm. Then he turned toward Bradley with his jaw clenched and said, "Lieutenant Bradshaw. You are dismissed. Please board the USS Gerald R. Ford on time for your deployment."
"Yes, Sir," he replied, saluting both men before walking back out into the hallway on slightly unsteady legs. He paused, hoping to hear some more of their conversation or an outright blow up that would give him a clue as to what the fuck was going on, but instead he walked the rest of the way to the barracks to collect his duffle and head to the docks.
With his phone in his hand once again and his bag slung over his shoulder, Bradley called you. He knew it was early and he'd be waking you up, but time was tight now. And your voice was the only thing that would keep him sane at the moment.
"Bradley," you sighed a second later, and he pressed his phone tighter to his ear.
"Baby, I miss you so much," he promised, heart aching. He swallowed hard and decided not to bring up anything that was going on since he didn't have a completely clear understanding of it himself. "I'm about to board the carrier."
He could hear you crying, and he wanted to kick himself. "Just come back safely. That's all I want. As long as you're safe, that's all that matters to me, okay?"
He was having a hard time keeping his own tears at bay. "Me, too. We'll figure out the rest of it later, Gorgeous. Take care of yourself. Write in the journal. And don't forget to check the mail."
"I love you, Bradley!"
"I love you so much."
As soon as he ended the call and turned off his phone, he had to walk through a small building for security screening. It was there that his bag and phone were taken from him. When he exited the other side, his duffle was handed back to him, but his phone was not.
"Sorry, Lieutenant," the petty officer told him with a shrug when he glared. "I'll tag it for you and return it when you get back to Norfolk. At least it's not a long deployment."
Bradley couldn't even argue with that. It wasn't that long in the grand scheme of things. He'd been overseas for a full twelve months at a time when he was younger. This should have felt like nothing, but he knew it would feel like the worst one. He hefted his bag higher on his shoulder and started to head for the bunk that would be his for the duration. There was no sense in standing on deck when there was nobody who would be looking for him to see him off.
He made it down two hallways before a loud voice echoed off the walls around him. "Lieutenant Bradshaw." When he turned, Admiral Simpson was heading his way, face so red it was almost purple. Bradley's heart sank.
"Yes, sir?"
The other man pulled his composure together, sighing like an angry bull. "While you will be under the command of Admiral Walker for this deployment, you will fly directly back to San Diego when you return to port in Norfolk. You'll be presented with the paperwork today."
Bradley's jaw dropped open. "I'm returning to the Pacific Fleet, Sir?"
He got one firm nod in response. "I told you last week that I would do what I could to retain you."
This was honestly the best case scenario, and Bradley could feel some of his tension melt away. "You weren't kidding," he mumbled before clearing his throat. "Thank you, Sir. Being in San Diego is important to me."
"Fly safely, Lieutenant. See you in seven weeks," Cyclone barked before turning on his heel and walking toward the ramp back down to the dock.
Bradley pumped his fist in the air. "Fuck, yeah," he whispered, spinning on the spot. He would get to go back to the station he preferred in North Island as well as his friends, but most importantly, he would get to return to you. There would be no stress of packing and moving and hoping you were still willing to come with him. He could stay in Coronado.
When he slid his hand into his pocket to get his phone out to call you back, he froze. "God damn it."
------------------------------
If waiting for emails and letters was bad before, this was torture. The early days of getting to know Bradley through written notes left you with constant butterflies in your tummy, but now it felt like you were walking around with a lead weight instead. You constantly caught yourself reaching for your phone to text him before setting it back down in frustration.
You hadn't heard from him since before he stepped onto the aircraft carrier, and that was four days ago. Today was New Year's Eve, and at least you had the wine bar with Natasha to look forward to. While you got dressed and ready to go, you couldn't help but put in just the bare minimum amount of effort. What was the point when your boyfriend wasn't even here to give you kisses along your neck and call you Gorgeous? You pouted at your reflection in the bathroom mirror and put the cap on your lip gloss before even using it.
"You look nice," Nat said as you climbed in the front seat of her car. You turned to look at her with one eyebrow raised.
"I'm wearing Bradley's old sweatshirt with a pair of leggings that are starting to get a hole in the crotch."
She started cackling as she pulled away from the curb. "Well, you still look nice."
"Thanks," you said softly, watching the houses go by.
As Nat turned toward the highway to head up to Oceanside, she asked, "How are you making out?"
You pressed your lips together for a few seconds, trying to make sure you weren't going to cry. "I'm just having a hard time being off from work while he's gone. It's... harder than I thought it would be. I can't wait to return to my classroom in a few days."
"I'm sure that will make it easier," she agreed. "You'll be so busy, time will start to fly by. Oh, I forgot to ask if you got any interesting mail at Bradley's house since he left?"
You shook your head. "I barely remember to check the mailbox most days. Why?"
"Don't worry about it," she replied smoothly. "You'll be back to work in a few days, but in the meantime, we've got merlot and chardonnay to keep your mind occupied."
"Sounds like you're talking about two hot French men," you said with a laugh.
"I could be! You don't even know!"
Now both of you were laughing. And you were still laughing when you actually did order a glass of merlot and a glass of chardonnay. You and Nat enjoyed some wine flights and cheese platters, and she regaled you with stories about Bradley from flight school.
"When he was twenty-two, he probably weighed a hundred and twenty pounds," she said with a smirk. "He was such a nerd, too. God, it was so bad." You were trying to stifle your laughter as she added, "Once he really started working out and grew the mustache, he thought he was hot shit. He's still a fucking nerd."
"He kind of is," you agreed through your giggles.
"But he's a good one," she promised. "Wears his heart on his sleeve too often, but I don't think he has to worry about you breaking it."
You ran your hand along the sleeve of his sweatshirt. "Never."
Once the two of you were filled with cheese and sober enough to get back in the car, you paid for your adventure with the gift card Bradley gave you, only to find out it had five hundred dollars on it.
"Natasha! We need to come back like four more times," you said as you signed the slip.
"I don't see any issue with that," she muttered, leaving cash for a tip. "I think I'll write Bradley an email and thank him for funding girls' day so he can read it when he gets back to Norfolk."
"I think he'd like that."
You started thinking about the journal sitting on the nightstand in his bedroom. Every night before you fell asleep, you'd been pouring your heart and thoughts out into the thing, but even the mention of the word Norfolk had you fretting again. You managed to keep up the conversation with Bradley's best friend as she drove you back to Coronado, but perhaps you should keep most of your things packed after you moved your stuff to his house. What if you had to move to Virginia when the school year ended?
"Thanks for driving," you told her when she pulled up to Bradley's driveway to let you out.
"Anytime," she said, waving you off. "We'll go back up again soon." When you leaned in to give her a hug, she told you, "Don't forget to check the mail."
"Okay."
You weren't sure exactly what her deal was since Bradley couldn't send you anything, but if she wanted you to, then you would. You already promised your boyfriend you'd keep an eye on anything unusual that arrived, so as you walked up to the front door, you took a peek inside the mailbox. Empty. Just like the house. You curled up on the couch with the journal and started to write your daily entry.
I heard from a very reliable source (Natasha) that you were and still are a nerd. I'm going to need to see some pre-stache photos of you when you get home. Your best friend is a wealth of information when you get some wine in her, and I had a great time with her today.
But I miss you. So much. Sometimes it knocks the breath out of my lungs. Your house is too cold and quiet without you here, hogging the couch and eating snacks. I'm looking forward to school starting up in a few days. It'll be a little less lonely when I have eighteen kids telling me what they got for holiday gifts. Of course I'll have to tell them they won't get a visit from their favorite aviator for a while. We'll just be nineteen sad pen pals.
---------------------------
On January second, you were working on your lesson plans while wearing Bradley's gym shorts and eating potato chips. Tomorrow you'd get back into a routine with work, but first you were going to allow yourself one last day of being kind of pitiful. You bit off more than you could chew with Bradley, and now you were paying the price.
You sporadically started crying at random times throughout the day, and it was only made worse by the overwhelming feeling of being alone. If you could barely make it a week without hearing from him, how were you going to make random deployments with no communication your lifestyle? Why did you even think you could?
While you were crunching your way through some potato chips, you heard something thump on the front porch. The sound made you jump on the couch, and you set your snack down on the table and crept to the front door. When you peeked outside, there was nobody there, but when you cracked the door open, you saw a box. A fairly large box. Addressed to you.
"Oh my god," you gasped. It was from Bradley. According to the date stamped next to your name, he somehow sent a box from the post office in San Diego last week. "Oh my god!"
You grabbed it and kicked the door shut, almost tripping on your way back to the coffee table. When you tried to claw at the tape, you almost broke your nails. "Scissors," you shouted, running for the kitchen drawer by the sink where your boyfriend kept a random assortment of junk. Then you walked quickly back to the couch and started to cut into the box.
Natasha had to be behind the arrival of the box, but you couldn't fathom what could possibly be inside. If Bradley wanted you to have something, he could have simply given it to you before he left. Your heart was pounding as you set the scissors down and looked inside.
"Bradley," you gasped, tears filling your eyes as those familiar butterflies zoomed and swooped around in your belly. You'd been so upset about missing out on his letters, he sent you a whole box of them. There were dozens of envelopes and little treats filling the box nearly to the top, but a neon orange envelope with OPEN ME FIRST written on it caught your eye. You pulled it out of the box and tore into it.
Hey, Gorgeous,
I'm thinking about you right now. Guaranteed. It doesn't matter when you get this box or when you read this note, I'm thinking about how much I love you. And if I'm asleep, I'm dreaming about us eating Thai food on the beach in front of a sunset that is nowhere near as beautiful as you.
I hope you realize there was no way you weren't going to get some letters from me while I'm deployed. I would never let that happen. Somehow, you fell in love with me this way in the first place, and more than anything, I want you to feel as loved as I do. So I filled this box with little notes and long, rambling love letters and things I thought you might like. When you read the individual envelopes, you'll know what to do.
Please fill that journal up for me. I can't wait to read it in seven weeks. I'm missing you like crazy, and I selfishly hope you're missing me just as much. I love you.
Yours Truly,
Bradley
With shaking hands, you set the note down on the orange envelope and swiped at your tears. You never dreamed you would meet a man this romantic, but somehow you did, and he became your boyfriend. "Oh, Bradley," you whispered, picking up a stack of envelopes and reading what was written on each one.
Open me when you've had a bad day
Open me when you really want some coffee
Open me when you need a laugh
Open me when you're in bed
Open me when you need a girls' night
Open me with your class
You flopped down onto the couch and kicked your feet in the air. "Bradley!" you shrieked, voice breaking as you started to cry. You hugged the letters to your chest and let the warm feeling of being loved wash over you and fill your heart. He was unbelievable. He was perfect. He was everything you wanted. And somehow you loved him a little more and missed him a little less with this box on the coffee table.
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He's so romantic. He's taking care of Gorgeous from afar! He's coming home to San Diego, but she doesn't even know it! Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls and @daggerspare-standingby
PART 21
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#bradley bradshaw x reader#rooster x you#rooster x reader#rooster imagine#rooster fanfiction#bradley rooster bradshaw imagine#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw imagine#bradley bradshaw x you#bradley bradshaw x female reader#bradley bradshaw fic#bradley bradshaw fanfiction#top gun imagine#top gun maverick imagine#top gun fanfiction#top gun maverick fanfiction#roosterforme#yours truly bradley bradshaw
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Needy & Embarrassed | A.H.
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader
Content warning: MDNI, 18+ for suggestive themes, mentions of sex, suggested soft!dom aaron, embarrassment, the team lowkey being little shits
Word Count: 1.1K
Summary: You needed him so much, you ended up embarrassing you both.
Request: hey if you're looking for funny requests, what about Hotch's fuckbuddy calling for a booty call at the worst time possible while he's on a case and the bau team hear everything (idk if his phone is broken or it's on his comms or something??) and won't let it go? Feel free to adapt and make it your own! I just love to embarrass that old man and break that stoic wall lol
A/N: okay this was supposed to be funny, but it ended up more of a hoe fic, for the horny girlies (it’s me, i’m a horny girly). It’s very mild though. Pretty please, don't let this baby flop and enjoy!
Requests are CLOSED! | masterlist
The phone rang, once, twice, it kept ringing and he wasn’t picking up.
You’d called him twice in the last 20 minutes, but he hadn’t answered. You knew he was busy, you knew he was working, and tirelessly at that, catching monsters and putting them away, putting them in their place.
But the truth was, you really needed him to put you in your place. You were hot, desperate for him - desperate to touch him, take all of his worries, and have him go pliant against you. Have him touch you, circle all the places that made you sing into the quiet, and make small goosebumps and beads of sweat cover your skin.
You needed his fingers to touch you in the most electrifying way possible, challenge all of the strength and power he had over you.
You needed to feel him push inside, the blunt tip of his dragging against your walls. His head buried at the crook of your neck - panting, licking, teeth scraping against the tender flesh. You maybe even needed him to leave a small bruise or two - it’s not like he hadn’t done it before.
Just thinking about him like that, about the power he held over you and the things you wanted him to do to you in that very moment, was making you hot - your clit pulsing in desperation.
This desire overtook all of your senses - you needed him with a passion. You needed him against you, inside you. You needed to be surrounded by him and his scent. You needed to surrender and let him lead this. And you needed it now.
You redialed his number - you knew you should stop, but all rational thoughts had left your brain when that first fantasy, first scene, had invaded your mind.
The phone rang again, and it rang, and he still wasn't picking up. You started scratching at your cuticles, the desire to take matters into your own hands was strong. You knew he wouldn’t appreciate it though, not at all. He never did - he was just a bit possessive like that.
For a year, as long as you'd known him, he'd been the only one to touch you. You’d met at a bar one late fall evening. He’d been drinking with a group of friends, his team, you had learned later. And you were at the bar with your best friend. The night had stretched, and so had the drinks.
Next thing you knew, a bathroom stall had been occupied, your skirt pushed up and the top three buttons of his dress shirt undone. Kisses were swapped, flesh ended up red and muscles deliciously stretched. A lipstick kiss was left on his peck - nice and vibrant against his soft skin.
It was quick, and it was easy. Electric didn’t even begin to describe it. But it was casual, and that’s the way it’s been since then.
Nights well spent - ending up boneless under the sheets was just one call away. And that’s exactly what you needed at that moment. You needed him to make you relax, to see stars, and reach heights you only ever reached with him.
You hadn’t seen him in two weeks, maybe that's where this desire, all the urgency came from. You’d planned to see each other after he returned from a case in Wisconsin, but not 24 hours after his return, they’d caught a case in San Diego and he’d left again.
There was one final way you knew you’d be able to reach him, but you’d never tried it. He’d said it was only for emergencies. But your “emergency” wasn't an emergency, to begin with, it was rather an increasing need for the man who wasn't answering.
You played with the idea, trying to stop yourself from doing something irrational. In the end though, when it came to him and this thing between you, this need, but you couldn’t even think - all you felt was desire, hot, searing want.
You opened your phone, looking for the phone number before your thumb hovered over the call button, and the next thing you knew, you were holding it to your ear.
The round table was full of files scattered around one over the other. The coffee cups were emptied long ago, and no one had bothered to start a new pot. Everyone knew their time was better spent finishing the paperwork and going home.
Maybe that’s why nobody paid attention when the phone in the middle of the table started ringing. Maybe that’s why he hardly paid attention when he answered the call.
“Hotchner.” It came out tired and distracted. He was barely listening, even when the line cracked and a voice finally answered.
“Hi, Aaron.” A purr sounded from the other side, low and seductive, if a bit unsure. “Baby…I really need to see you right now. I'm so worked up, so needy. I can't wait anymore, I need your mouth wrapped-” He rose to his full height, his brain suddenly putting two and two together, his heart pounding.
“Now’s not a good time Y/N.” He rushed to stop you from saying any more, every eye in the room focused on him, and the phone, making them an audience to a far too intimate conversation you shouldn’t be having.
“Look, I know you said I should only call this number in case of an emergency, but Aaron, I cannot stop thinking about your co -” He pressed the end call button at lighting speed, feeling himself get hot, in embarrassment…maybe even in want.
Everyone stood still, silent, holding their breath, eyes wide and curious, and turned towards their boss. Looking, waiting for a reaction, anything.
He took a deep breath, trying to compose himself, to erase your voice and the words you’d said to him - trying to stop himself from the added embarrassment that may follow if he didn’t. Just your voice, the desperation laced into your usual timber was making his body react, and not in an appropriate way.
“Well, that’s one way to go about it. “ Rossi commented, putting an end to the awkward silence. Penelope broke out in laughter, quickly followed by Morgan and Emily, and everyone joined in.
“Poor girl. This does sound like an emergency Hotch,” Emily added before another big laugh followed.
He scoffed and picked up his suit jacket, “We’re done, go home.” He grumbled, before making a beeline for the door.
“And don’t forget to wrap it before you tap it, boss. Girly seriously sounded like she needed that d-” Penelope’s voice followed him, “Too far? Okay.” He heard her murmur but he didn’t stop.
No, determination led him outside the bullpen and down the elevator as he pulled his phone out and found your contact, typing a text.
You better be ready, because this little scene you just caused? It’s going to cost you, baby.
Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!
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I saw a post a while ago about Tommy and Buck running into Buck's exes, but I'd be interested in them running into Tommy's exes (boyfriend and/or girlfriends)
i spent such a long time fleshing out an OC for this tiny little oneshot but i could not get this out of my head gfhdhsjjdf.
EDIT: okay this isn't tiny and maybe i got over excited.
bucktommy / rated t / prompt requests still open
-
"Tommy?"
Chim stops mid-sentence, hands still up in a gesture, and his mouth is a little open as he looks over Buck's shoulder, behind him. Hen and Eddie seem similarly afflicted. Confused, Buck turns around, and-
Woah.
Buck's not unfamiliar with attractive people - he works in an environment with a lot of hot, athletic people, who do insane, heroic things, and since discovering that he's playing equal time for both teams, the pool of people that are nice to look at has grown considerably. That's a given. But... woah.
Green. Very green eyes.
"Dan! Oh, shit, how long has it been?" Tommy grins, getting up quickly enough that his chair scrapes against the concrete.
Hen and Chimney are doing their freaky psychic parademic mind melding communication thing, which mostly involves a lot of eyebrow movement and head tilting, and Eddie is glancing from Dan to Buck like he's nervous. This was supposed to be a chill little brunch, a catch up between friends. It's nice, being able to bring his partner to brunch like this, the same way Hen brings Karen and Chim brings Maddie. He never brought Ali, or Taylor, or any of his girlfriends. For reasons he could never quite pinpoint, he never wanted to let his worlds collide like that.
But Tommy is already part of his world. He's got inside jokes with Chim and Hen that Buck still doesn't quite get. He brings his own stories about the job, and he can laugh at everyone elses without getting maudlin and worried the way any of Buck's exes would. Tommy is as much a part of Buck's world as Buck is of his.
Except, Tommy's world apparantly has other things in it. Like Dan. Dan with the very green eyes, and the black hair swept carelessly back off his face like he thinks he's a 90's movie star, a little grey peppered at his temples and a t-shirt that has to be at least two sizes too small. Dan with his arm around Tommy's shoulder, and a 1000 watt smile dangerously close to Tommy's mouth, like he's not 100% committed to pulling out of this extremely long hug.
"What are you doing in California? You miss the sunshine?" Tommy asks, his hand still very noticably on Dan's hip.
"Don't even say that, those Oregon winters are no joke," he huffs, "Nah, I'm down for my sister's wedding."
"Emily's getting married? What the hell, she was barely out of college last time I checked."
"Yeah, Tommy, that was six years ago," he laughs, "All grown up now, marrying some IT geek from San Diego. Don't know what he did to deserve her, but my balls have been well and truly threatened if I give him anymore shit."
They chat for another few minutes, completely oblivious to the audience they have, oblivious to the way that Buck's hands are clenching into fists under the table. Tommy's usually so poised, straight-backed, almost stoic. Even his humour is deadpan, but Buck relishes the moments where he can tease easy smiles and full body laughs and dorky jokes out of him. Dan and his pretty eyes seem to have that down pat, too.
"Uh, I feel like I've crashed a party here, Tom."
Tommy blinks, looking back over at their table.
"Shit, sorry," he says, "I should have said. These are the good folks of the 118 firehouse. You probably know Hen and Howie by reputation, and this is Karen and Maddie," Tommy indicates each of them in turn, and they give a wave, "That's Eddie, and this is my boyfriend, Evan."
He says is so casually, like it costs him nothing, and it drags a smile out him the way it always does. Boyfriend. Buck stands, offering a hand. There are still half-cresent marks on his palm from where he'd dug his nails in.
"Good to meet you, man."
"You too, Evan."
"Buck," he says reflexively, "People call me Buck."
"Sure," he says easily.
Tommy is staring at him, face unreadable, but he smiles anyway, polite, almost professional.
"This is Dan Archer, and he used to be the best damn EMT in California," he says, clapping him on the shoulder, "until he deserted us for the PFR."
"Portland, huh? That's a good department to work for, from what I hear," Hen grins, "You guys were trialling those new electric ambulances in 2019, right?"
"Oh, yeah," Dan laughs, "All green, baby. Not that it matters when you're pulling another hiker out the Cascades in mid-December, but for some reason no one wanted to put the funding into my caterpillar-tread gurneys idea."
Chim snorts, "Shit, that's a good one. We should start lobbying for that, Hen."
"Ain't that the truth," she mutters.
"I don't have that problem," Tommy says smugly. Dan punches him in the arm, "You wanna stick around? This place some amazing bruschetta."
The collective inhale the table takes is probably loud enough to hear across the street. Eddie puts his coffee down like he's worried he's going to have to do something that involves having both of his hands free, like restrain Buck.
"Nah, I'm just doing a coffee run, then I've got to get back to the pre-festivities festivities," Dan shrugs, apparantly oblivious, "And maybe buy a shotgun to clean somewhere in view of Samuel."
Tommy laughs, "Give 'em hell, Archer. And don't be a stranger."
"You neither, Kinard," he grins, "I'll take you up on that bruschetta before I head back North."
"You better."
Tommy sits back down, and puts a hand on Buck's thigh. Nothing salacious or suggestive, just the weight of his palm and the heat of his skin. Familiar. The group lapses back into the same kind of easy chatter that they had before. Maddie and Chim talking about something cute Jee had done last week. Hen recounts in detail the call out they got that ended with having to deep bleach the inside of the ambulance. Buck takes a hold of Tommy's wrist, feels his pulse against his fingers, a steady, paitent beat.
-
Tommy's mouth paints lines of heat against Buck's shoulders. He's on his stomach in Tommy's bed - their bed, really, with how often Buck is here these days - propped up on his elbows. There's a book open on the pillow in front of him, something he found on Tommy's bookshelf about the history of the American rail network. It's been open on the same page for the last ten minutes, Buck's eyes somewhere in the middle distance.
There's temptation here, in the form of Tommy's half naked body pressed up alongside his, the hand on his lower back, his mouth. But Buck's mind is going a mile a minute.
"Baby," Tommy murmers, lips pressed to the nape of his neck.
"How do you know him?"
Tommy stills, just a moment where he freezes, before he exhales.
"I don't know if I like you thinking about other men while I'm trying to seduce you."
"Well, he is a very handsome man," Buck mutters, before he can help himself.
Tommy snorts, "Seriously?"
"It's ridiculous," he grumbles, "He's a paramedic, not a model. What's he even-"
Tommy muffles his laughter into Buck's shoulder, his body shaking with it. It should irritate him, it should make him feel belittled and mocked, but the way Tommy curls over Buck's naked back, smudging kisses into his hair and muttering his name softens the blow.
"I'm being an idiot, aren't I?" he says flatly, and it just makes Tommy laugh harder.
"No, Evan, you're being jealous, and possessive, and very sweet," he says, indulgent. Tommy is always indulgent with him, and Buck aches with how much he doesn't deserve it, "I know there's no way for me to say this without it sounding sarcastic, but I really do think that you glaring daggers at my ex like you're thinking about burying him under a carpark is extremely attractive."
Buck huffs, "So, he is your ex."
"Yes, he's my ex," he says, trailing a finger down the dip of Buck's spine, "We dated for nearly a year, the first year I moved to Harbour. He was my first serious relationship after I came out."
Buck doesn't really know what to say to that. Tommy represents a whole lot of firsts to Buck. First kisses, first touches, first fucks. Not first ever, obviously, but a kind of first all their own. And maybe Buck is always going to be a too much, too fast kinda guy, but he can't imagine getting over that, getting over him. Not even after five, six years.
"It ended amiciably. He got the job offer from Portland. Captaincy. Dan's job is important to him, too important to pass it up. I understood that."
"Do you miss him?"
Tommy kisses his shoulder, "All the time. He's been a good friend to me over the years."
"Do you see him very often?"
"Handful of times, since he moved," Tommy smiles, curling his fingers into the hair at the back of Buck's neck, "Came down for Harris' retirement. Couple years ago, we met up while he visiting family. I went up to Portland last year, too."
"Oh?" Buck says, feigning indifference and probably missing it by a mile, "How was it?"
"It was great. Awesome city. Great hiking in the area, and the ceremony was beautiful."
"What ceremony?" Buck asks, jerking up.
"You would have cried," Tommy continues like he didn't even hear him, like he didn't almost just headbutted in Buck's eagerness tosit upright, "I bet you always cry at weddings, but you definitely would have cried at this one. I bawled like a baby."
Buck shoves at Tommy's chest playfully, and he bounces when his back hits the mattress, laughing again.
"What wedding?"
"Dan's wedding," Tommy grins, "to his husband, Jake. Who he loves very very much."
He groans, shoving his head into the pillow, but Tommy doesn'tlet him mope about it for very long. A strong pair of hands roll him flat onto his back, and Tommy wastes absolutely no time in covering his body with his own, pushing between his legs and kissing him halfway to stupid. Which doesn't bode well for Buck, who's pretty sure he was more than halfway there already.
"You're ridiculous," Tommy says fondly, pressing a kiss to Buck's cheek.
"I know," he sighs, "I'm sorry."
Tommy kisses him again, before propping himself upon his elbows, "We're gonna talk about this properly tomorrow, about you being this worried about me... leaving? Or being interested in other people? Whatever it is, okay? We're gonna talk about it, because I don't actually want you to be upset, Evan," he says softly, "but you don't need to apologise for being jealous. It's just an emotion."
"Not the best emotion on me, though," Buck sighs, "It's not even rational."
"Maybe," Tommy shrugs, "but I wasn't lying when I said I like it on you sometimes. I don't regret my relationship with Dan, so what's rational about me liking how much you wish you were the only one who has ever touched me?"
Tommy's got a talent for taking Buck's most ridiculous thoughts, his worst traits, the ugliest sides of him, and rearranging all the pieces so that they actually make sense. He's so steadying, like a hand on his back while he feels like he's constantly walking on a tightrope. All of it is like water off a duck's back to Tommy, even when it feels like Buck's about to drown in it.
"God, please just kiss me," Buck whispers, half because he wants to, he always wants to, and half because it minimises the risk of saying anything else stupid, like 'I hate your gorgeous hero of an ex just because he got to kiss you before I did', or 'I like myself better when I'm with you than I ever had before', or 'I love you', or 'please don't talk about weddings around me because I'm terrified of the images in my head right now and how good you look in a suit'.
"Yeah?" Tommy breathes, his mouth hovering just over Buck's, "You gonna be thinking about him again?"
"Thinking about who?" Buck mutters back, just to be a brat.
Tommy laughs, a gentle, soft little thing that's so, so fond, but he kisses him anyway.
#bucktommy#tevan#911#911 fic#**writing#bucktommy tag#thank you for the prompt!!!! <333#this really got away from me but i have Feelings about them
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What’s In a Name?
Summary: Bradley really loves the way you say his name. At the grocery store. At the bar. In his bed.
Warnings: fuff, and so much smut. Minors DNI
Length: 9K
Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw X Female Reader
(This is a one-shot for my ‘Like I Can’ series. You don’t need to read it first, but you might want to. It’s pretty cute! You can check it out here!)
Bradley loved hearing you say his name.
He’d gone almost two years without hearing it. Back when he was ‘Rooster’ or ‘Bradshaw’ to you. Back when you weren’t sure how you would fit into the life he had built in San Diego when you had moved there for a promotion. Now he made it a priority to show you just how seamlessly your lives fit together, to remind you just how right you were for each other.
There were times when he still couldn’t believe that he was able to have you so entirely. You went from being just his closest childhood friend to being his everything. And now that he had you there was nothing he liked more than the sound of his name coming from your lips.
He loved hearing it every chance he could.
He’d never come so hard has he had the first time he’d heard you chanting his name over and over again as he’d fucked you in his bed. Your hair had been a riot on his pillow, your lips swollen from the attention he’d given them with his own. He’d just barely gotten you over the edge before he’d followed, so overwhelmed by your sweet voice so needy and breathy in his ear.
BradleyBradleyBradley
He had even changed his contact information in your phone from ‘Rooster’ to ‘Bradley’ one lazy Sunday afternoon when you had been dozing on his chest, adding a little sparkly heart next to it for good measure. In general, he wasn’t much of an emoji user, but he thought you might find it cute when you discovered it. He was very pleased with himself months later when he realized you’d never changed it back, pink sparkly heart and all.
He loved hearing you say his name at the grocery store.
He had gone off to find his favorite brand of protein powder, the store had recently rearranged their health food section and he could never remember where it was stocked. He didn’t want to drag you around on the scavenger hunt, especially when he knew you’d rather be doing anything else than grocery shopping.
Once he had it, he’d tried a few different aisles before finding you standing near the baking things and spices, he would have recognized your curves in those jeans anywhere.
You were chatting away with an elderly woman like you were a pair of old friends. It didn’t surprise him, since you’d always been the type that strangers had gravitated towards, your warm energy apparent to who crossed paths with you.
Walking up to you, he put the powder in the cart with the items you had accumulated while he had been wandering the same three aisles over and over again before he found what he was looking for near the bottom shelf.
“Bradley!” you greeted turning towards him beaming, your smile pure sunshine, before cheerily spinning back to the older woman, “See, I knew he’d find us eventually.”
“And he’s just as handsome as you said,” your new friend replied, giving him the once over.
“Yes, he is. Very handsome and very tall,” you told her with a teasing lilt in your tone, glancing back over your shoulder to send him a wink.
He’d happily be objectified by anyone you wanted, including elderly women wearing fuzzy purple sweaters, just as long as it meant you were bragging about him to them. That they knew he was yours, and you were his.
“How can me and my six-foot-two-inch self be of assistance to you ladies?” he asked, putting on his most winning smile. It couldn’t be said that he wouldn’t commit to a bit when the opportunity was presented.
“Can you reach Ruth a couple of those containers of Hungarian paprika, please?” you asked him while pointing to the red and green tins on the top shelf.
He was glad you had waited for him. They were so pushed back that there’s no way you would have been able to reach them on your own without climbing on the bottom shelf for a boost.
Safety first and all that, but also, he wouldn’t have wanted anyone to see the way your shirt would have ridden up your back. The dimples at the base of your spine were for his eyes only.
“Of course, I am at your service,” he pressed a quick kiss to your temple before stepping around the cart to grab the spice for the older woman.
“Oh, and then maybe one for us too, Bradley. I’ve never tried making Hungarian Goulash before. You’ve made it sound so good, that now I think I have to.”
“If you want to make it, mine is the number one reviewed recipe for the dish on AllRecipes,” Ruth boasted, there was no hiding the pride in her voice.
He hands Ruth the tins he had grabbed, and passes the other one to you to add to the collection in the shopping cart.
“But what I left out is that I always use this specific brand of paprika, and that I make mine with half pork and half beef. I save that tidbit for friends and family, I couldn’t just give all of my secrets away to the internet people.”
That had you laughing, “So sneaky, I love it! Thank you for sharing your secrets with us. Sounds like we know what we’re having for dinner tonight.”
You were already opening pulling the recipe up on your phone for later.
“I’m looking forward to it, especially since we know the tricks of the trade now.”
His eyes catch on the overflowing hand basket resting near the older woman’s worn Birkenstock mules. It looked heavy, almost like she didn’t originally plan on getting as many things as she ended up with.
“Can I carry that for you? Or if you have more shopping to do, I would be happy to go and get a cart for you,” he asks, gesturing to her overloaded basket.
“Oh no, those were the last things on my list,” Ruth replies, waving off his offer, “My youngest daughter is having her 50th birthday and the whole family is having a get together. I thought doubling my recipe would be fine, but I decided last minute to triple it.”
She bends down to reach for it, but he beats her to it. His mom raised him right.
“No, ma’am, I insist.” He’s pretty sure he catches you checking out his ass when he stands back up, “I’ll be right back, sweet girl. Stay out of trouble.”
He holds out his other arm for Ruth to take so he can escort her to the front of the store to pay.
“I don’t find trouble, it always seems to find me,” you joked.
“I believe that,” chimes Ruth.
He turns back to get a look at you, and sees you bringing your hand up to your forehead to mimic a full swoon.
He just smiles and shakes his head at you and your antics. Such a brat.
He helps Ruth at the check-out unloading the basket onto the conveyer belt, and then carries her packed grocery bags to her car getting them settled in her trunk.
Once they’ve parted ways, he heads back inside to find you.
You’re standing in front of the cooler with all the dips and fresh salsas, your head cocked to the side as you deliberate your choices.
What he also notices as he makes his way to you is that you’ve caught the attention of another man, one who should be paying more attention to his bagged lettuce instead of eyeing his girlfriend.
Sneaking up behind you, he wraps his arms around your middle lifting you up off the ground.
“Bradley! Oh my god, seriously?” He can’t help but laugh at how startled you are, he’s pretty sure if you were wearing pearls you’d be clutching them right now.
“Here I thought you were a gentleman, helping sweet Ruth with her groceries. It’s rude to sneak up on innocent and unsuspecting women,” you protest trying to twist out of his arms once he has set you back down.
“Ah, don’t be like that,” he settles his hands on your hips pulling you back to his chest, letting his fingers slide through your belt loops, before lowering his voice, “Unsuspecting, maybe. But innocent? There wasn’t anything innocent the blowjob you gave me in the Bronco outside the Hard Deck last night.”
He knows the shiver that goes through your body isn’t from the cold case you are both standing in front of.
Looking over to his left, he sees the man who was checking you out putting down the bag of spinach in his hands. And he is hit with a feeling of smug satisfaction watching as the guy quickly wheels his empty cart out of the section completely.
“No getting handsy by the hummus, Bradley,” you tut, still set on giving him the cold shoulder, but the way you lean back against him gives you away, “Should we get that lemon beet kind again?”
“Whatever you want, kid,” he murmured against your neck. “Plus, the word on the street is that you think I’m handsome, so that’s got to count for something.”
When you pull away from him this time, he lets you go. Getting a glimpse of the skin above the top of your jeans as you reach up to grab the square container of hummus.
You set it in the cart looking back at him as you toss your hair over your shoulder, before primly stating, “Oh, and Bradley, if you’re going to quote me I do believe I said you were very handsome.”
And with that final word, you push off with the cart meandering to towards the fruit section, the sensual sway of your hips he knows is just for him.
He especially loved the way your voice sounded when you’d just woken up, when his name was one of the first words out of your mouth to start a new day.
There was nothing Bradley liked better than the nights you spent together in the same bed. It didn’t matter if it was his place or yours, just as long as he was able to wake up to find you warm and tucked away under his arm.
“G’morning Bradley,” you’d whisper, voice soft and sleepy, a little raspy from disuse, as you turned to nestle closer burrowing your face in his neck. He knew you liked a gentle wake up, and he was more than happy to trail his fingers along your back until you woke up a bit more.
He was always up before you, his internal alarm clock permanently altered from his time in the Navy. For as much as you claimed to be a morning person, you were always the one snoozing yours in favor for spending a few more minutes in bed. It wasn’t something he’d ever expected to learn about you, and he liked being the one who got to share those intimately domestic moments with you.
The only surefire way to get you out of bed and moving on those mornings was the suggestion of hot coffee-- that or the promise of his mouth.
He loved the way you said his name when you were surprised.
When he’d gone to that furniture store you liked, his only plans were to find a new larger dresser for his bedroom. He had claimed he needed more space for his stuff, but really, he wanted there to be more room for you to keep your things at his place.
The home stylist at the store not only helped him pick out a new dresser he thought you’d approve of, but also convinced him to also purchase the matching king-sized canopy bed frame and set of nightstands.
He was told the mood was “cozy mid-century chic”, whatever that meant.
Bradley knows he runs hot, you’ve told him enough times that he’s like a furnace. So when the stylist showed him the cloudlike and breathable comforter along with the 800-thread count white cotton sheets, he had them add that to his collection too.
You still wouldn’t move in with him, but he was working on it. He knew he’d reel you in soon enough. And if it took a payment plan, so be it.
Although, he could only blame himself for the new lamps and giant rug he also purchased. He’d gotten a little swept up in the salesperson’s enthusiasm.
Hopefully that guy got commission, he deserved every dollar.
It had hurt a bit when he swiped his credit card, but it was worth it to hear the way you said his name when you saw it all for the first time after it had been delivered and assembled.
“Oh my god, Bradley!” you laughed, “I thought you said you were just getting a new dresser. Did you buy the whole store?”
“What can I say? The salesperson was very good at his job, sweet girl,” he was trying to not let his leg bounce as he waited for you to say more. A little nervous now that he’d gone overboard and missed the mark, “Do you like it?”
“It’s absolutely perfect, Bradley,” you gushed as you slowly made your way around the room taking it all in. “It’s warm, it’s classic, it’s cozy. It feels like you. You’re going to have a hard time getting me to leave now, I love it in here.”
That was all he wanted.
He felt all the tension leave his body, grinning as he watched you sit down on the bed running your hand over the soft deep green duvet. It had become his favorite color the second he’d seen you in that green dress the night at the seaside restaurant when he’d told you how he felt about you.
“So, do you want to help me break it in?” he asked, pushing off from where he had been leaning against the doorframe and sauntered towards you.
The way you slowly reclined back on the bed, your lips turned up in a mischievous smile was an answer in itself.
He loved the sound of you saying his name at the Hard Deck.
Your voice was so familiar to him that he could pick it out anywhere. He was so attuned to the way you said his name that he could be in a conversation with someone in the noisy bar, but his ears would perk up if you said his name in a passing comment.
It was like he was hearing his friends talk with one ear, while the other was always listening for you.
He could be with Mav catching up and chatting about the new plane he was working on, until:
“Yeah, I could use another one, let me see if Bradley needs one really quick and then I’ll go up with you.”
And then he would find himself standing next to you at the bar.
He could be playing around of nine-ball with Hangman, until:
“No, you’re kidding me! There’s no way you caught Coyote doing that, has Bradley heard this one before? Oh my god, you have to tell him.”
And then he would find himself abandoning his cue on the pool table.
“What the fuck, Bradshaw? You can’t just quit because I’m kicking your ass,” Jake would shout at him as he made his way towards you.
After all, you’d said his name and now he was curious.
He could be at the jukebox trying to find something better to put on than whatever terrible song Fanboy had picked, until:
“Oh! Bradley knows how to play that one, let’s see if we can bribe him to go perform it. I doubt we’ll have to try very hard, he’s such a little show off.”
And then he would find himself seated at the piano.
To everyone else he was ‘Rooster’, ‘Bradshaw’, ‘Lieutenant’, and soon to be ‘Lieutenant Commander’.
To you he was Bradley.
Seeing Bradley seated at the piano was a normal sight for you.
Since being permanently stationed in San Diego, he’d had all of the things from his storage locker shipped over, including his Dad’s old upright. He liked to play in the evening to decompress after his day and you liked to watch.
There was something about the way his large fingers moved over the keys so gracefully that was always so mesmerizing to you.
You still remembered how embarrassed he would get all those times when your moms would beg him to put on an impromptu piano recital. Usually fueled by a couple too many glasses of Cabernet Sauvignon, you realized later on.
Your mom and Carole had definitely been the “Wine Moms” at the baseball and tennis games they’d sat through in support of you and Bradley.
He would get a little sulky in the way that all self-conscious teens got, but he could never hold out for very long before pulling out the wooden piano bench. Bradley wasn’t one to purposefully disappoint his mom, their relationship special in the way that only a single parent and an only child could understand.
Once he realized it was a good way to get noticed by the girls in high school, he’d been quick to change his tune. And now it was clear he reveled the attention it got him when he sat down and started tapping out a carefree riff before launching into a song, all preening posturing and smug smiles.
You were usually right next to Bradley when he put on a show, an arm wrapped around his shoulder, always one to want a front row seat to see him in action.
Tonight the bar was a bit more packed than usual. It took a little longer to move around, and a little longer for Penny to make your drink since you had opted for something slightly more complicated than a beer.
Slowly, but surely, you wove your way through the crowd. Careful to avoid any stray elbows to avoid jostling your full drink as you made your way back to your friends where they were gathered around the ancient upright. You were nearly there when a burly man stepped around you, giving you a clear view of Bradley playing.
And you were stopped short by the picture in front of you.
The performance he was currently putting on at the Hard Deck was different than anything he did at his own home. His leg bouncing in tempo as he shimmied perched on the piano bench, like it’s a struggle for him to be contained to one spot.
He was captivating in the way that he commanded the room.
Maybe it was the way the way the muscles of his forearms were flexing as his fingers were precisely flying over the discolored keys.
Maybe it was the way the light sheen of sweat was collecting in the hollow of his collarbone.
Or maybe it was the way the veins were standing out against his neck, the way the thick tendon that ran along his throat had you transfixed as he threw his head back to sing at the top of his lungs.
His sunglasses were sliding down his nose as his head bobbed between glancing down at his hands and scanning the room. He smiled when his eyes found yours over the top of his aviators. Your hand tightened around the glass in your hand, the condensation dripping down your wrist as you stood there and watched.
You weren’t sure if it was your imagination or the tequila you’d been sipping on all night, but it seemed like he was working the keys of the piano a little harder, a little faster as he held your gaze.
And then his tongue was slipping out. Just a bit, and just for you.
Thankfully no one could hear the way your breath hitched in your throat over the sound of everyone in the bar singing along. You’d be embarrassed if you weren’t so turned on.
The intensity of Bradley’s heated gaze, the way his body was moving, the way you wanted to crawl in his lap and lick the taut line of his neck and taste the salt of his skin right there in front of everyone.
You probably looked as desperate as you were feeling, because his easygoing smile turned more knowing every second your eyes stayed locked.
“I’ll be right back,” you said to no one in particular as you abandoned your spicy margarita on the nearest surface to make your escape.
You felt like you were about to vibrate out of your skin.
It was easier to slipping away to the bathroom than had been trying to reach Bradley in front of the stage, needing a moment to yourself out of his heady orbit.
Locking the door behind you, you lean against the worn wood that was littered with stickers that had been collected and brought back from around the world. You try breathing in and out a few times, the way you’ve learned to do at your expensive yoga classes, in an attempt to slow down the rapid pounding in your chest. Actively trying to not think about the way he looked at you.
There was no question in your mind that you suffered from an incurable Bradley kink. Now that you could let yourself revel in all sorts of unfriendly thoughts about him, everything he did was a turn on for you.
You had a sneaking suspicion that he might have one too. His eyes always a got a bit more heated, and his hands would grip you a little tighter when you said it.
You knew that if you were to slip your fingers past the waistband of the dainty lace underwear you had just bought that you would find yourself wet.
And for a moment, you’re tempted to do just that. To let your fingers skim up your thigh, along the scalloped edge of the panties you’d bought specifically with Bradley in mind, to think of him as you slide your fingers inside of yourself.
You’re feeling so high-strung that you know it wouldn’t take long to come. It wouldn’t be the first time you would have used the bathroom at the Hard Deck to get off.
Your hand is halfway under your sundress, when you hear the chanting:
Roo-ster! Roo-ster! Roo-ster!
In your mind’s eye, you can picture him standing behind the piano doing his version of a touchdown dance.
You’ve teased him about it before, calling him a “slutty little songbird”, which he didn’t deny. He thrives off the attention, and you can’t say you mind watching him do that sexy little shimmy he is so fond of.
You also don’t mind helping him find other ways to work off the post-performance high.
Knowing that he will probably be looking for you now that he’s done, you smooth down the skirt of your dress with shaky hands and make your way to the sink.
Standing in front of the dingy mirror, you can see just how much a wreck your appearance actually is. Your cheeks look warm, your lips are slightly swollen from Penny’s special spicy margarita mix, and your eyes have that certain wild gleam in them that only Bradley brings out in you.
You turn the cold tap on, and stick your wrists under the running water. Hoping the cool water on your pulse points will help ease the heat that is spreading under your skin.
While the chanting has stopped now, you can still hear the lively sounds of the packed bar. Figuring it’s alright to leave the safe confines of the tiny bathroom, you turn off the water and dry your hands, determined to not let anyone see just how riled up you were.
You’re barely five steps outside of the bathroom, when a strong arm wraps around your waist.
“Hey, kid.”
And just like that your heart is racing out of control again. His woodsy smell paired with the faint hit of sweat has your brain going fuzzy.
“You doin’ ok?” he rasps against the shell of your ear. He has you pulled against his warm, broad chest and you can feel the echoes of his question reverberate throughout your whole body.
You pull out of his grasp to turn and face him, taking a small step backwards towards the wall.
“Uh-huh, yeah. Everything is fine,” you ramble, nodding your head as you try to avoid looking in his honey brown eyes.
“You sure about that?” he asks taking a step towards you, which has you retreating another one back. “Thought I should check on you since you disappeared there for a bit.”
“Just you know,” you trail off briefly glancing at him and gesturing pathetically towards the bathroom like that explains your clearly unusual behavior.
“Mm-hmm, sure,” he allows, his head tilting to the side as he observes you.
You know the exact moment when he realizes what’s going on by the way his cheek twitches as he tries to control the wolfish smile he is fighting back. And you’re suddenly feeling very much like his prey when he presses forward again. This time when you step back you feel the wall against your back as he crowds into your space.
“We should probably go back,” you stutter out when he cages you in with one hand above your head.
“Maybe,” he muses, tracing his thumb along your lower lip, “You sure you don’t want to tell me what’s got you so ruffled?”
The way he is looking at you, the way he feels against you, it’s all too much.
“Bradley.”
You don’t know what you were trying to sound like when you said his name, but there’s no missing the neediness in your voice.
“Yeah, I thought so,” he murmurs, his voice rough and low. He takes your hand in his, guiding you to his zipper, letting you feel him through his jeans. “You got me all worked up too, sweet girl.”
The sound you make is lands somewhere between a wheeze and a whimper.
“C’mon, let’s get out of here.”
He doesn’t wait for a response before he has you leading the way up to the bar, using your body to hide his hard on as he pays. Not even bothering to wave goodbye to your group of friends as he hustles you to the Bronco.
He definitely broke the speed limit and a couple minor traffic laws on the drive back trying to get you home to his place.
You had looked so flushed when he had been pounding away at the keys of the upright at the Hard Deck, and you had dashed away abandoning your freshly made drink. He might have sped up the tempo to wrap it up faster so that he could check on you, worried for a moment that you might have caught a bug or food poisoning or something.
That was until he caught you outside of the bathroom, and saw just how flustered you’d been and he knew.
It took everything in him not to push you back into the tiny bathroom and have his way with you right then and there. He was hit with an image bending you over the sink, and showing you just how good you looked coming around his cock.
However, a hot and dirty quickie at the Hard Deck wouldn’t have been enough for him.
He knew exactly how he wanted you: flustered, flushed, and thoroughly fucked.
So yeah, he floored the gas pedal needing to feel your body under his as soon as possible. And it didn’t hurt that it probably cleared out some of the engine build up in the Bronco along the way either.
He pressed you against the door the second you’d gotten inside, letting you rock your hips against his thigh as he sucked along the curve of your collarbone. Your hands coming up to tug at the curls at the top of his head.
“U-upstairs,” you gasp when he grazes his teeth along the swell of your breast.
You didn’t need to tell him twice.
He lifts you up, and your legs wrap around him immediately. It had taken all of his will power not to slip his hands up your frilly dress at the Hard Deck. He loved any chance to he got to get his hands on your ass.
He almost misses the first step going up the stairs when you drag your hot mouth along his neck.
“Wait, wait,” you pant in his ear, “Put me down.”
“It’s fine, I got you,” he promises as he tightens his grip on you.
You pull away and shake your head at him, “I don’t want either of us to end up in the Emergency Room for a sex related accident. Could you imagine? Jake would never let us live it down, and Nat would be worse.”
“It’d be worth it though,” he winks at you.
“You say that now, until you’re stuck in a neck brace unable to fly or have sex,” you admonish jokingly, stroking the side of his throat with the scars he earned from that night at Jason Cameron’s homecoming party.
“Yeah, but you could still ride me. The way I see it, it’s a win-win either way,” he chuckles at the exasperated way you roll your eyes.
“You’re handsome, but I don’t think even you could pull off the color of those hospital gowns,” you quip with a quick peck to his lips, “Now, hands off the goods.”
Giving your ass one more squeeze, he lets you slide down his body. He may not have his hands on you anymore, but it doesn’t stop him from admiring your figure as you bound up the stairs in front of him.
He stops short at the threshold of his bedroom at the sight of you pulling your dress over your head. Of all your soft skin on display for him.
There were times he still couldn’t believe he got to have you like this.
How did he think it could have ever just been a friendship with you?
He liked how comfortable you were in this space with him, liked how perfectly your things fit in with his.
He liked knowing that one of the pillows on the bed smelled like you.
He liked knowing that if he went in the bathroom he would find your expensive shampoo and conditioner in there next to his.
He liked knowing that if he opened the drawer on one of the nightstands that he would find your lip balm, your lavender lotion, a vibrator from your place that had found a home here, and a notebook and pen in case you needed to remember to do something because you didn’t like having your phone in bed.
What he currently liked most about his bedroom was the way your dress was decorating the floor, and the way you were kneeling on his bed like a vision.
You were wearing a matching pale pink lace set he’d never seen before. Your skin was peeking through the floral embroidery of the sheer mesh in an all too enticing way.
You were his sweet girl.
“Come here,” you beckon, inching closer to the edge of the wooden canopy bed.
He’s not one to deny you, he’d willingly go wherever you wanted. He saunters in towards you slowly, putting on a bit of a show for you as he comes to stand before you.
“I like this, it’s pretty,” he hums as he runs his knuckles slowly over the edge of the embroidered cups, enjoying the way you lean further into him.
Cupping your jaw, he pulls you forward for a lingering kiss. Being this close to you, the smell of your musky floral perfume is intensifying thumping of his pulse.
Your hands slide under his Hawaiian print shirt, helping to ease it off his body and then tossing it somewhere near your dress. You ruck the tank he has underneath up his chest and he reaches down to pull it over his head as your hands run over the ridges of his abs.
His body has been humming for yours since the bar. The hurried encounter at the door barely managed to take any of the edge off, and he was still just as starved for you as he had been when he saw you holding that drink looking at him like he was something to be devoured.
His left hand moves from where it’s been settled on the flare of your hip and up your back to the clasp of your pretty bra.
He’s been letting you take the lead, but you’re not nearly naked enough for him.
“Hands to yourself,” you mutter as you work to get his belt undone, “I’m trying to get you naked you here.”
Part of him wants to take his time with you, to take you apart slowly and see what new sounds he can uncover. The other part of him wants to have you holding onto that rich espresso colored headboard while he shows you just how much he appreciates you wearing this little set just for him.
“You like my hands,” he murmurs against your neck. He is quick to unhook the clasp of your bra with one hand, easing it down your arms and flinging it behind him.
Yet another offering to his bedroom floor.
And then he is trailing his fingers down your soft stomach, dipping them under the band of your matching panties.
He groans when he discovers you’re already wet for him. He finds your clit, and teases you there making gentle figure-eights with his finger, “Got yourself so worked up you couldn’t even stick around for the end of the damn song, huh?”
You’re quick to abandon your crusade against his favorite pair of jeans, leaving him unbuckled and half unzipped, as you circle your arms around his neck to pull him closer to you.
“God, your fingers feel so much better than mine,” you sigh against his mouth as he licks his lips before bringing them back to yours.
Your full lips soften under his demanding ones, the sensual slide of your lips against his has him desperate for more.
He slips his tongue in your mouth taking advantage of your gasp as his circles against you turn from teasing to purposeful. The kiss turning messy with need. With want.
“I know another part of my body that you like just as much,” he murmurs, as he palms your ass.
Your hand starts moving down his chest, down his stomach.
“Nuh-uh,” he tsks, catching your tricky hand before it has a chance to reach his cock, bringing it back up to rest on his shoulder.
“I want to touch you,” you whisper against the spot below his ear that you know drives him wild.
“I’m getting you off right now,” he says firmly as he speeds up his motions against your clit.
It doesn’t take long before he has you panting against his mouth, your hips rocking against his fingers.
“That’s it,” he coaxes, “Let me give you what you want.”
He knows from the sweet whimpers you’re making that you’re close, he breaks away from your kiss to hold your half-lidded gaze as you come for him.
He will never get tired of watching you fall apart.
He will never get tired of seeing you satisfied and spread across his bed.
Giving you a moment to catch your breath, he shucks off his jeans and his briefs, releasing a small groan as his cock springs free. He’s been hard for you since he cornered you by the bathroom at the bar. Sending you a lazy-half smile at the way your eyes take him in standing there above you as he slowly pumps himself.
He knows he looks good, it’s literally his job to keep his body in peak condition.
But you make him feel good.
No one knows him better than you, makes him laugh harder than you, makes him feel as important as you do. Your appreciative gaze of his body is just another bonus to the many ways you make him feel good about himself.
He climbs on the bed, settling between the cradle of your open thighs.
“You gonna tell me what got you so keyed up, sweet girl?” he asks in-between scattering kisses across your cheeks.
“That’s classified,” you retort breathlessly as you wrap your legs around him.
“Is it now?” he grinned, kissing along the delicate line of your jaw. He’ll let you keep your secret for now, he had other more pressing questions he wanted answers to, “Did you touch yourself when you ran off to the bathroom?”
“No,” you whine, as he pulls your nipple into his mouth, laving it with his tongue.
“Did you think about it? Think about me?”
He wanted to know. He needed to know that he drove you just as crazy as you did him.
“Yes,” you gasped out in confession when he moves to your other breast, giving it the same attention, “I’m always thinking about you.”
Good.
“Already know how you feel about my fingers,” he rasps as he kisses down your stomach, making sure to place one on the little tattoo near your hipbone. “Should I let you have my mouth too, sweet girl?”
“Yes,” you breathe working your hands into the curls at the top of his head, “Please.”
“Yeah, I think so too,” he agrees mouthing at the last little bit of lace still on your body.
He pulls off your pretty pink panties and throws them somewhere behind him, probably landing on that overpriced dresser he bought for you.
He loved that he was the one who got to see you like this. Your hair was a mess from his hands, you pupils were blown wide, and your flushed chest rising and falling with rapid shallow breaths.
“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he says reverently before licking a firm stripe parting you open.
It’s not long before his mouth is meticulously working between your thighs, his tongue gliding over your clit, one of your legs thrown over his shoulder.
He’s sliding his finger into you and then another, making room in your body, determined to pull a second orgasm from you.
You’re so wet for him, so soft for him, so sweet for him.
He knows what you like. He’s studied your body just as thoroughly he did the aircraft manuals he was given, if not more so.
“More,” you moan, your hips rolling from the stimulation, “I need more.”
Pulling away from you with one more broad lick of his tongue, he leans his head against the thigh that’s thrown over his shoulder, watching your face as he pushes another finger into you. The way you’re pressing your heel into the muscles of his back has him fighting the urge to grind himself into the bed.
“You look so good like this,” he praises, taking in the way you writhe against the three fingers he has buried deep in you, as he squeezes you hip with his other hand.
He’s seen a lot of unforgettable sights from the cockpit of his plane, but nothing will ever compete with the way you look as you chase your release. Your eyes fighting to say open as you watch him watching you.
“Oh my god,” you exhale when he hits that spot inside of you, your leg starting to tremble with the need, “Please, I’m so close.”
Using his fingers and mouth in tandem, he works you with same pressure, the same pace. He feels you clenching around his fingers a few moments later, your back arching in pleasure as you fly apart for him.
Teasing his lips and mustache along the sensitive skin at the crease of your thigh, as you come down from your high, before kissing his way back up your body. Your greedy hands reaching out for him, pulling him to your mouth. He feeds you his tongue, letting you taste yourself on him.
The way you’re whimpering beneath him is making him feel out of control.
“I want you inside me.”
Wrapping his large hand around his cock, he drags it through your folds few times before he finally lines himself up at your center.
And then he’s finally pushing into you, savoring the way you cling to him as he gives you a moment to adjust to his size.
“Rooster,” you say with a sigh against his lips.
He starts to move when your hips start to shift seeking more friction. And then he’s rocking into you with the smooth, deep strokes that never fail to make your toes curl. Once, twice, three times.
“What’d you say?” he asks, as he slows the pace down.
Your hands are in his hair, and you tug on the strands when he pulls away to look at you. Your lips are swollen, but he knows that look in your eye. He can already can guess what you’re going to respond with before your lips have even formed the word.
“R-ooster.”
The word comes out a stutter, as he roughly thrusts into you again.
He doesn’t know why he’s bothered asking, he should have known that you were going to make him work for the one thing he wants to hear.
“Say my name.”
He was so gone for you, he wants you riled up and feeling the same way as him. He wants his neighbors to hear you saying his name. Wants them to know that he’s the one making you feel so good.
“Lieutenant,” you taunt, not bother trying to hide the self-satisfied on your face.
If he wasn’t going to get what he wanted then neither were you.
He pulls out of you completely, flipping you over on the forest green duvet. His hand coming down on your ass, a quick sharp slap.
The sting of it has you gasping into your forearms pillowed underneath your head, and your cunt fluttering around nothing.
Leaning forward, he kisses down the length of your spine admiring the way the goosebumps pebble on your skin now.
“Say my name,” he coaxes again.
He tugs your hips up and licks deeply into you once before pulling away. Watching smugly on his knees at the way your hips tilt up after him, your legs spreading further apart as you offer more of yourself to him.
“Bradshaw,” you counter.
Closer, but still not what he wants to hear.
His open hand connects on the other side of your perfect ass, earning him a sweet moan from you.
Grasping his cock to slide it through your wetness, he stops just short of where he knows you want to feel it the most.
He wants you dazed. He wants you desperate for him.
You’ve always been the type to take a mile when you’re given an inch. And he intends to only let you have exactly eight inches tonight.
“You want this cock?” he rasps.
He knows he’s got you where he wants you when you don’t reply with another bratty remark, only desperately nodding ‘yes’ into the mattress.
“Look at me,” he demands.
You’re slow to lift your head up to look back at him, your eyes are a little glazed over as you take him in. You look as wrecked as he feels. He can only imagine what he looks like through your eyes. He can feel the sweat collecting at his temples, can feel the flush that’s working its way down his neck to his chest.
“You know what I wanna hear, kid.”
That makes you whine.
“Oh, you wanna be my sweet girl now, huh?” he asks, squeezing your hips.
He wants to taste that lower lip, the one that’s pouting prettily at him as you nod for him again. Even now as you writhe against him you’re still trying to get your own way, still trying to get him to break first.
“Well, you know what to do,” he feels like barely hanging on now, “Say. My. Name.”
He punctuates each word with the rock of his hips, his cock just grazing your clit. Enough to keep you on edge, but not enough to give you the stimulation that you want.
“Bradley!” you cry out.
He’s inside of you before you’ve even gotten the second syllable out.
Groaning your name, he throws his head back at the sensation of finally being surrounded by you again.
“Good girl. That wasn’t so hard, was it?” he tries to ask teasingly, but it comes out more a rumble than anything else. “My sweet girl.”
Your pussy squeezes him harder at the praise as you roll your hips up more to better accept his body in yours. He loved the view he had, loved seeing how wet you were for him, loved seeing just how well he filled you, loved seeing you stretched around him.
He leaned forward a bit, brushing back your hair off your face to see you better. The change in angle making you gasp as you fisted the material beneath you.
“Say it again,” he prompts, smoothing a hand down your back, “I wanna hear you say it again.”
His name.
The only thing he wanted running through your mind.
His name.
The only thing he wants coming from your mouth, other than the sweet whimpers and moans he is pulling from you.
“Bradley,” you indulge, his name sounding something between a plead and a purr.
Without disrupting the pace he’s set, he nudges your knees further apart. Wrapping an arm around your middle to pull you up against his chest, needing to be closer to you.
“Go on, let them hear who is making you feel this good,” he grunts roughly in your ear.
“Brad-ley,” the staccato of his name punctuated by his steady thrusts against you. Your hand digging into his hip.
Interlocking his fingers with yours, he lifts your arm to hook it around the back of his neck, holding you to him there. Turning your head, you greedily mouth at the column of his throat, frenzied and wet.
You were it for him, there was no question about it. And he would happily prove to you in all the ways he could think of that he was it for you too. There’s nothing he wants more than to make you feel good. To please you. To give you the best you’ve ever had.
His other hand slides up from where he had been squeezing your waist to get his hand on your breast. He loves how perfectly you fit in his hand.
He meets you for a kiss, sloppy and perfect, messy and deep.
He can’t control the sounds of satisfaction escaping him as you move together, feeding off of your sighs and moans. Your hands are grabbing onto whatever part of him is in reach: his hair, his thigh, his arm.
Enjoying the drag of his cock as he moves in you, he lets himself get lost in the sensation of being connected with you like this. The room filled with the sounds of labored breathing, of your bodies coming together, of you saying his name over and over again.
You’re starting to tremble in his arms, he’s pretty sure your legs would have given out by now if it were for the way he was holding you against him. Your nails biting into the back of his neck, as he slowly drags a hand down your body to where you’re connected.
“I love this,” you murmur into the base of this throat.
He doesn’t know if you realized you said it out loud, doesn’t know if you meant to say it out loud, but he loves hearing it all the same.
“God, you feel so good,” he can feel the sensation building at the base of his spine, “You’re perfect. So fucking perfect.”
The way his circles his fingers against your clit has you gasping into his waiting mouth.
“Bradley, please.”
He’d give you anything. He’d give you everything.
“C’mon then,” he insisted hoarsely, pressing his forehead against the side of your temple, “Say it for me one more time, sweet girl.”
He speeds up his fingers, set on ending you. Working your body with the precision that he handles his sixty-five million dollar aircraft. Determined to give you what you’re so sweetly asking for.
And it’s his name you gasp as you come undone.
Your is head thrown back against his shoulder as you spasm around his cock, your hips rolling as you are lost to the pleasure of your orgasm. He kisses your neck and lightens the pressure of his fingers on your clit, wanting to extend it out for you as much as possible, enjoying the tiny pulsing aftershocks he is drawing from you.
It’s only when he feels you go boneless that he starts to lose his own composure. His breathing going completely ragged and hips snapping erratically against you as he chases his own climax.
A few more powerful strokes later he follows you coming hard with a groan, burying his face in your neck as he spills in you.
Somehow, he manages to get you both sprawled out horizontal on the bed without him completely crushing you.
“Holy shit,” he curses flinging an arm over his eyes, his other reaching out to touch whatever part of you he can find. There’s nothing but the sound of the blood rushing in his ears as he tries to catch his breath.
Time gets away from him as he runs his hand up and down your back. It could have been a few minutes or an hour when he feels the bed move, and you slipping out of his grasp as you get up to use the bathroom.
“No, stay,” he attempts to pull you back to him, feeling the need to have you close again as he tries to settle back into his body. You’re seemingly recovering much quicker than he is at the moment.
“I won’t even be gone two minutes, you can time me.” He can hear the soft affection in your voice.
“Don’t think I won’t,” he grouses halfheartedly lifting up the arm with his watch on. He manages to raise his head up in time to get a glimpse of your naked figure as you close the door behind you.
True to your word, you are back one minute and forty-seven seconds later. He opens his arms to you as you climb back on his bed and drape yourself half over him.
Much better.
He feels you shift yourself up a few moments later to press a kiss to the scar on his shoulder.
“I just want to try something,” you murmur before making your way along the bend of his collarbone.
Up the side of his neck.
He feels his pulse start to kick up again as you work your way up the line of his jaw. He tilts his head away to give you more access to his skin there, basking in the feel of your lips on his body.
“Bradley,” you whisper lightly against the shell of his ear.
The guttural groan that rips through him surprises him. He feels his cock twitch against his thigh, a visceral reaction to you.
And then you’re giggling.
“I knew it,” you get out between fits of laughter, “You’ve got a name kink.”
Your face pure joy at your discovery. He’ll happily let you tease him for the rest of his life as long as you keep looking at him like that.
“Nah, I got a you kink,” he says as he hauls you on top of him.
“I’m already planning on letting you have your way with me again tonight, Bradley,” you proudly declare, propping yourself up on his chest, smiling down at him. “You don’t have to try so hard, I’m a sure thing.”
If he wasn’t already gone for you, the cheeky wink you sent him would have sealed the deal.
He feels himself already starting to get hard again, one of the perks of being a part of the 1%.
“Sweet girl, you’re gonna be the end of me,” he chuckles, running his hands up your back, “And I remember someone once telling me that they give as good as they get, so I won’t be dialing it in anytime soon.”
And then he is pulling you down for a kiss.
Later that night when you’re riding him so good, you get him chanting your name.
Over, and over, and over again.
A couple hours later, he watches you slip away into slumber, satisfied and spent beneath the fluffy comforter on the bed.
His bed. Your bed. Their bed.
It was just as much yours as it was his, regardless of whether you were officially living together yet or not. He bought it for you, after all.
Even on the occasional nights you spent apart, you were still everywhere.
He liked the plants you had picked to fill out the empty spaces in the room. He liked that the right side of the bed was your side of the bed. That those were your books on the nightstand, the bookmarks peeking out waiting for you to pick up where you left off.
There was a trinket tray for your jewelry on top of the dresser right next to the to the leather watch display box that you had gotten him for his birthday. And the drawers of that well-made, but overpriced wooden dresser were filling up with more and more of your things, just like he had hoped for when he got it.
He smiled to himself as he gently stroked your hair. The last time he was at your place, he had accidentally seen the letter from your apartment’s leasing office confirming your decision to not renew your rental agreement and your move out date. He hadn’t told you he knew, he’d rather hear it from you anyways.
You would always be worth the wait.
The packages that were delivered to the door?
His, for now, until you moved in a couple months from now.
The name signed on the lease for the condo?
His, for now, until you were ready to ink yours down on a deed for a new home with him.
The little velvet box tucked away in the back corner of his nightstand?
His, for now, but always meant to be yours.
You can thank @mak-32 and her photo set of Rooster at the piano for this fic!
Also, many many thanks to @gretagerwigsmuse for being my go-to gal! I wouldn’t have been brave enough to post the smut if she hadn’t given me the all-caps go ahead!
Here’s Bradley’s bedroom, if you’re curious!
You can check my other fics out here!
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#bradley bradshaw imagine#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw x you#bradley bradshaw fanfiction#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw x female reader#bradley rooster bradshaw x you#top gun fanfiction#top gun maverick fanfiction#rooster x reader#rooster x female reader#bradley bradshaw fic
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bob floyd fic plz loving your fics anything really with some spice 🥺💞
Risky business ( Robert " bob" Floyd x Reader) 18+
summary : home doesn't feel like home so y/n takes a risk moving to san diego to the man she always felt was her home her best friend robert floyd , she thinks he friend zoned her , he thinks if he tell her about his feeling for her he'll lose it til one night he takes a risk and hope its a good one .
warnings : swearing , very fluffy like super fluffy , mutual pinning , idiot in love , bestfriends to lovers , dagger squad being the best smutty fun , oral ( female r), fingering , p in v ( unprotected don't be silly wrap that willy ) .
Risks are scary, big or small, and can be terrifying when you don’t know the outcome. It's scary when you do but most risks are usually the best decisions in a person's life. Coming from Montana to San Diego because your best friend is permanently stationed is a big risk , not telling said friend and making sure no else did, big risk. Yet standing in some bar called hard deck hoping they would show up like they most nights. what maybe helped already knowing with the help of a certain female pilot promised they would be . talking away with the pretty kind eyed bartender as patron began to fill the space with a blink of an eye it was sea of people , each time she would hear the door open her eyes would dart in the direction in hopes to see the WSO she hadn’t seen in a year or more . texting and calls were main communications and social media which is how she began sort of friends with natasha trace bantering or in bobs word torturing him on a post or meme which became a regular and a mutual online friendship was formed . bob always gonna be her best friend two growing up together playing on her ranch , he even worked there summers with her so they could spend time together. Montana suddenly didn’t feel like home anymore it missed one major thing and that was robert floyd so she packed her things and now here she stood in a bar trying to see through the sea of people . a polite smile and shake of her head at the men coming her way offering one liner and drinks . she sipped her beer and continue as nat promised she would get the weapons systems operator to the hard deck even if she had to drag him herself .
“ well well i didn’t know it was my lucky night” a voice called as she turned to see a blonde and along with a few others eyes locked on her and her glance short because she saw him standing there almost flying off the stood and running past the cocky blonde.
“ BOBBY” She yelled almost knocking the poor man to the ground as his mind was catching up and making sense to what was happening.
“ guess it’s not a lucky as you thought bagman” .
“ y/n shit what you doing here” he lifted her up and spun her around .
“ to see ya stupid why else “ she giggled as he put her down .
“ told you i’d get him here also nice to finally meet you” a voice called as she turned seeing the brunette that help and share memes to torment bob.
“ nat wow nice to meet ya too “ she turned hugging the woman .
“ could we meet you too… hi names bradley “ he smiled holding his hand out and they began pushing each other out of the way telling her their names and call sign.
“ erm let sit over here” bob pulled her to his side and guiding her to the usual space as hangman and rooste more or less yelling about their skills in pool and darts . he didn’t know what was going on or it was some hallucination , did they crash and this was some coma dream or his own form of heaven .
“ y/n let me get you a drink to welcome to the hard deck “ of course jake was already putting the charm on .
“ oh thank you “ she smiled softly as she told him her order before her attention was back on bob . “ i was so scared you weren’t gonna show up but then again i knew nat wouldn’t have let the surprise go to waste” she giggled as they guy simultaneously sighed dreamily.
“ That's why you kept trying to get me to leave earlier. I should have known” he chuckled .
“I didn’t wanna leave this hotty at the bar too long on her own “ nat winked .
“ you flatter me really , hell i’d say the guys have a hard time flying with you around huh?”.
“ more her mouth than anything…. So what brings you to fighter town pretty girl ?” rooster asked, hand on his chin and big eyes in her direction .
“ well home was boring without bobby around ain’t felt much like home so I kinda packed up my car and decided hell why not” she shrugged.
“ wait your staying like staying staying”bobs eyes widening and excited smile on his face shit why was so cute , handsome and fuck why couldn’t she stop feeling like this for her best friend.
“ well she’s been planning the last few months and honestly i’m proud of myself for keeping it a secret so long” nat smirked.
“ and nat helped a lot she viewing places for me which i will make sure to send something …food wise since you won’t let me pay you anyway “ she rolled her eyes .
“Honestly better than money or whatever sweetpea’s cooking is to die for “ bob almost moaned at the thought of tasting her food again one of the things he missed being home.
“ sweetpea?”
“ nickname from when i was kid my mama was really into flowers and well one of it meanings is loyal when i got into trouble a lot for picking up for bobby she called me sweet pea also because they were grown for beauty too but i think more the loyal part “ she rolled her eyes.
“ your beer darling” jake returned flashing a million dollar smile her way .
“ thanks cowboy , so this is famous hard deck i’ve been hearing all about hell penny is a peach , where else is fun around here?” she asked looking around mainly her eyes where on bob , they always were even as kids she thought he was the prettiest boy , cutest smile and innocent eyes but she say other side when they got dark when he would get pissed off or when he got drunk how it would be a goofy grin . She was one who saw most sides of robert floyd , reading him like a book or so she thought.
Ever since he was little boy the only girl to fully make robert floyd heart beat fast and his stomach to flutter and a warmth fill through his body was y/n , his sweet pea who go out of her way to take care of those she loved and put a person in their place of needed to be . since they were kids she didn’t take to kindly to other kids teasing him or even adults as they got older . Her mother was right she was loyal to a fault often trying to see the best in people and never returning it back . Hated the guys she dated ones that didn’t appreciate the best woman on gods green earth . then he would pick up the pieces of what was left behind unknowingly making things worse because they got that chance because she thought he saw her as sister , constantly made sure to let slip in the fact they were best friends so she dated idiots she thought would distract her from her decent in the depths of the of friend zone. Now she was happy being single maybe she needed time to get over those feelings first before jumping into a mistake. She was happy now being with the one man she couldn’t have it should of stung but a life with him in it even as her best friend was what she was willing to settle on. She got along with the dagger squad they were good people , fun and very welcoming . rooster and hangman to offering to teach her to play darts which made bobs face light up , the coy act as she stood unsurely throw the first one missing reeling them in til she turned to bob not even paying attention to the way their jaws drop when she hit the bullseye while taking about her day of unpacking.
“ would ya look at that “ she winked before heading to get another drink .
“ look like your game isn’t working tonight boys “ nat snorted
“ i’ve a better shot then hangman “
“ you wish chicken boy “
“I don’t think either of you two have a chance” payback announced as he shot the WSO a quick glance . being the married man and obsessed with one woman in his life he could spot something the others didn’t. Her eyes didn’t devour them any of them , she only looked to answer or tell them a story but other than that her full attention was on bob and bob alone . heart in those eyes and it was returned what he didn’t know was there wasn’t more to it , how two people undeniably in love and yet just friends maybe he would find out but for now he observed see how long it took the other but only the knowing look on phoenix face he wasn’t the only one that spotted it , the rest would need to get over the egos first .
After week one fanboy spotted it followed by javy at week three but rooster and hangman were two busy in a silent competition it didn't hit them til six months of y/n being around. The two men saying they totally spotted it way be for then but they couldn’t hide when it clicked now they were waiting for those two to see it , would their be harm in helping a gentle nudge in the right direction so to speak. Another new favorite in the shift of the routine was eating dinner in y/n which the name was a distant memory as sweetpea continued to live on in san diego , even pete mitchell addressed her as such . they decided maybe it was best to skip one dinner night even though the idea of it had some of them pouting like spoiled children .
“ you better not mess it up “ was all the message from hangman and rooster read as he stood on the porch ready to knock not knowing what his friends where on about . then when the door opened the thought went straight out of his head as she standing head tilt in pair of cotton shorts and tank , brows furrow.
“ i thought the squad was busy?” god her voice something as simple as her voice had him in a puddle . sometimes he would get her to talk about her hobbies , things she loved just to hear her ramble excitedly .
“I .. not all the squad i guess , i’ll call for pizza and you pick out the movie” he chuckled letting himself in .
“ beers in the fridge or ginger ale” she called and yet he couldn’t help it watching her walking away how it made the blood rush sound and his mouth run dry . he felt the buzz of his phone to see the text in the group chat.
Phoenix : please make a move or i’ve suffered the whining of bradshaw and seresin for nothing.
Baby on board : what you mean ?
Bagman : either get the girl or i will
Rooster: i’ll get her before bagman
“ bobby? “ she called as he pocketed the phone a gulp as he looked up nervous was it that obvious , it was clearly it was plain as day for his friends to spot it and now he was scared on her catching on what if he scared her away .. what if he lost his best friend because he couldn’t contain the feelings . maybe it was better tell her , face the rejection and get over it so he could get on with his life .
“ yeah .. yep coming sweetpea “ he walked probably slowest he’s ever walk in hope of the short distance he could sort himself out . that would of been blown away as she sat looking up his eyes straining to stay on her face and not the plush of her thigh as she sat on the sofa feet tucked underneath her legs and big bright smile on her face.
“ ya coming or what” she snorted looking to the tv eyes scanning through the potential choices . when he finally took his seat as far away as he could get without being in a different room .
“ Do I smell?” she arched her brows to which he shook his head so fast she thought his glasses would fall off . “ well come over here” she patted the seat beside her .
“ you wanna drink like i said beer if you wanna stay over or ginger ale” she asked getting up .
“ you hate ginger ale why you always get it “
“Cause you don’t” she easily said . “ same way i get those nuts ya like or the chips which honestly i’m starting to think something wrong with ya taste buds” she snorted heading off to the kitchen .
“ given the chance i’d taste you “ he mumbled .
“What was that “ she carried in the beers .
“ i said nothing wrong with my taste thank you” he coughed bringing the bottle to his lips least he couldn’t have slip ups if it was occupied right.
“ you ok “ she asked concern on his face as he nodded. “ ya sure like a bag of cats since you got in here “ .
“ just thinking of something that well is a big risk and i don’t know what to do , it’s classified” he sighed.
“ take it i mean risks are scary sure but if it something you love or something in your life that needs changing , i’d say go for it once it not life on the line that that risk , i moved out her away from everything i knew and i think it was best decision i made ” she smiled softly and yet it did comfort him but same time the fear was winning . “ think on what i said decided then but for now lets watch this movie” she giggled hitting play and the lights . of course she would pick the movie he said he loved , she always done little or big things like this having his favorites for when he was over , packing extra things when they were out like sun cream and aloe vera when he did burn . wipes for his glasses . little things that didn’t feel that little they meant a lot to him. He kept thinking it over the movie long forgotten as she cuddle into his side nothing new but still he was trying to think , trying to decide take the risk or not.
“ fuck this “ he finally said only he didn’t mean to say it so loud making her startle and sit up right .
“ What's going on? What's got all worked up “ she ask pausing the moving . “ I know you said classified what is it” .
“ it’s you “ his head fell back eyes closed fuck it may aswell do it cause if he didn’t he was going to be in a padded room .
“ me? What i do?” he could hear it the hurt in her voice , he knew her too well knew how her mind worked and he knew she was worried she done something wrong.
“ nothing wrong i mean it’s more me than anything before i could do i think being deployed and stationed places helped i was able to hide it better , now others see it too and then your gonna see it , but i’m taking your advice and it feel life risking but shit i need to tell you i’ve been in love with you since we met shit i don’t think theres a time i haven’t been and i understand if this changes things between us i mean if you want me to walk out that door i will as much as it kills me but i can’t pretend i’m not anymore and no i’m gonna loose my best friend and jake and bradley are gonna hate they miss the food for me fucking everything up but i love you , in love with you “ he could lie and say that the beating of his heart help since he couldn’t hear anything yet her mouth fell open and her eyes wide , she was frozen to the spot and now he wanted to run literally run his ass out that door and keep running maybe start a life somewhere new .. like the moon . “ please say something… anything” he was more quiet , vulnerable and small in his voice.
“ you fucker …. Asshole ..” that was not the words he was expecting to hear. “ your telling me you felt the same all this fucking time… .asshole what was the whole thing of constantly added the fact we’re bestfriends in any conversation you shit i thought i was so deep in the friendzone the titanic would of been found before anyone found me down there” she quipped .
“ i more said that to myself than you “ he winced
“ why didn’t you tell me sooner “ she asked .
“ i was afraid i’d lose you why didn’t you tell me”.
“ because you dick i thought you friendzoned me “ she huffed and yet the smile she was fighting it was , winning as her lips twitched up .
“ so we both love like in love with each other “ he asked shyly .
“ i guess we are” she nodded.
“ so i can kiss you”.
“ i’d be pissed if you didn’t” she turned only for his hands on her cheeks and lips crashing against her. It was soft at first , almost testing the waters , crossing new bound and borders and yet it felt like it was most right thing to do , it was like the whole cliche puzzles pieces souls connecting goodness wrapped in a bow that would make the hallmark channel proud . til the kiss got hungry , heat , sensual . nip to her bottom lip granting the entrance , tongues dancing along side each. Pulling her closer , needing her closer lifting her to his lap , where she always should of been his hand on her hip , the other tangled in her hair . her own at the nape of his neck the soft tug pulling him for her lips as she kissed down his jaw . wet open mouth kissing along his neck setting his skin a blaze the room suddenly feeling like a sauna as she nips and lick the skin . his now free hand , fingers under her chin pulling her face to his , his eyes darkened that made her gulp and her thighs willing to clench under the almost burning gaze .
“ baby girl i need know you want this “ he voice few octaves lower if he wasn’t holding her by her chin her mouth would of fell open .
“ i want this i want you please” she whine her eyes full of needed , lust blown pupils and kiss bitten lips made his cock throb straining against his pants . the gasp from her lips when she felt it pressed again her , her panties soaking , clothes feeling tight as she ground her hips down showing him how much she wanted him , needing him . the delicious friction his hand falling down to her ass squeezing as the moan spilled from from her lips like a flip of a switch , the resolved that was holding on by thread snapping . Instant he stood lips crashing against her harder , hungrier , her legs wrapped around him as he carried her to her bedroom. Her top thrown to one corner and her short to another like the clothing personal offended him . the groan when he seen it she been sitting beside him all night nothing underneath , laying bare beneath him as he pull his own clothes off in record speed. His grip under her legs pulling her close her chest rising and falling, her eyes pleading him to continue shit he had to of died to get this piece of heaven . kissing down her legs not once did his eyes moved , her mouth open as he place sloppy kisses slow , tortuous she needed him to do something before she was driven crazy . closer and closer til she felt it , felt his tongue broad stroke from her entrance to her clit . head falling back as sound that came from her lips almost had him blowing his lips . paradise if it had a taste it would be her sweet pussy if he could he’d spend the rest of his life between her plush thighs. A grip on his hair as she cried out his name a sound he imagine and yet it didn’t do it justice , none of this was even close to what his mind tried to conjure.
“ fuck bobby don’t stop “ her hips following his movement as his tongue swirling around her clit as his finger pumping in and out hitting spots she never knew existed , the fact he ate her pussy like it was first and last meal , like it was his first taste of wandering the desert . robert floyd ate pussy like it was an olympic sport and he was going for gold . he had her ruined knowing nothing , not even her own fingers could ever feel as good. Build and building , winding so tight she could feel it coming to the point she was already trembling crying not to stop it was coming and coming til stopped .
“ the fuck” she panted as he rose cocky smirk on his face she felt like sobbing and slapping him all at one .
“ when you cum for me for first baby it gonna be on my cock “ he kissed her nose . she went to argue but what ever argument she had turned to a moan inch by inch he filling her.
“ fuck so tight .. she made for me huh.. All mine” he groan his forehead on her kissing her lips til she bucked her hips a sign for him to move his hand on her cheek kissing almost swallowing the moans , trust slow at first feeling his cock stretching her velvet walls . soft sensual movement til his pace got faster and fast hold her face in place as he looked down . his other hand coming between her bodie , teasing her puffy clit he could feel it feel her getting closer and closer the way she was sucking him in , how being buried in her sweat cunt was addictive.
“ i’m gonna fuckk … like that gonna “ she couldn’t get it out everytime she tried to get the sentence out of her mouth he would hit the spot so deep in side she was going brainless . pressure building crying his name like it was only word she knew in that moment was . like a explosion her eyes rolling back as her legs clenched around him walls tight on his cock .
“ good fucking girl “ he growled his own movement sloppy til he was shooting his own release painting her cervix with thick ropes of cum . body cover in sheen of sweat his lips peppering her face with delicate kisses before he got her lips . a collective wince as he pulled out collapsing beside her pulling her to his chest.
“ that…”
“Is happening all the time agreed .. your a dick” she sigh happily.
“ why’s that baby girl “ he chucking looking down at blissed out grin on her face.
“ we could of been doing that all this time .. but hey least i was right risk are worth taking “ she giggled as he pounced on her kissing her once more , kiss his best friend and his girl .
#top gun fandom#top gun fanfiction#top gun maverick#robert bob floyd#bob floyd x reader#bob floyd x you#bob floyd x y/n#robert floyd#robert floyd x reader#robert floyd x you#robert floyd fanfiction#bob floyd smut#robert floyd fluff#robert bob floyd x reader#robert floyd imagine#bob floyd#top gun bob#phoenix#rooster#payback#hangman#coyote#fanboy#natasha trace#natasha phoenix trace#bradley rooster bradshaw#jake hangman seresin#mickey fanboy garcia#reuben fitch#javy machado
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You're Mine and Only Mine (I'm Yours and Only Yours) (Alex Morgan x Reader)
It all started with a bit of harmless flirting to get you riled up, something Alex Morgan knew would lead to a confrontation before you took her home and had your way with her, but when the man's flirting becomes a bit too forward, you step in, something that leads you to having your way with the woman somewhere a little more public than home.
Anonymous Request: Alex Morgan/G!P Reader, jealous sex in an alleyway behind a bar, and marathon sex.
Your lip curled as your grip on your tumbler tightened, your eyes burning holes in the back of the head of the man currently flirting shamelessly with your fiancé.
Every so often, she’d glance your way, shooting you a playful wink, but making no attempts to move away from the man, whose intentions were clear.
“She’s just doing it to get a rise out of you.” Kelley says, giving you a nudge and you grunt.
“Well, it’s working.” You mumble sipping your drink, grimacing at the taste.
Alex knew what would happen if she got a rise out of you, she knew that you’d either confront the person flirting with her or drag her home and absolutely have your way with her.
Your eyes narrow as you watch the man lean towards her, whispering something in her ear that makes her giggle, your nostrils flaring.
You turn away angrily, unable to watch the man blatantly flirt with your girlfriend any longer.
Your fingers drummed against the bar as you tried to focus on your drink, the ice bobbing slightly within then dark liquid.
“What do you say we get out of here...?”
Your head snaps upwards as you turn abruptly towards your girlfriend, the woman smiling softly at the man, who now has a hand on her forearm.
You’re up in an instant, shoving his hand off of her as you slip an arm around her middle.
“She’s not going anywhere with you.” You growl, Alex’s hand landing on the small of your back.
The man scoffs.
“I think she’s the one who should make that decision.” He says, turning to Alex with a charming smile, the woman shaking her head, her lips parting.
“My fiancé, isn’t going anywhere with you.” You say, cutting off the woman, your teeth bared.
The man snorts.
“Well, your fiancé was just all over me, maybe she’s having second thoughts.”
Your blood was boiling, your hands balling into fists.
The man’s throat noticeably bobs at the look on your face, the muscle in your jaw jumping as you take a step closer, the man visibly shrinking.
You weren’t small by any means, you were a goalkeeper on the San Diego Wave for years, and you completely dwarfed the man now cowering in front of you.
“Yeah, if I were you, I’d get out of here.” Kelley says from behind him, the man slipping from between you and the defender before scurrying out of the bar, your darkened Y/E/C orbs on him the entire way.
“Hey...”
Your attention is pulled away from the door when Alex steps into view, the woman looking noticeably regretful.
“I-I’m sorry...” She says, cupping your cheeks and you turn away with a frown.
You knew Alex had only started to flirt to get a rise out of you, but you couldn’t help but replay the man’s words in your head.
What if she WAS having second thoughts...?
You swirl the contents of your glass before downing it, slamming the tumbler down before you turn and make your way down the hall towards the restroom, your fiancé frowning.
Alex blows a raspberry as she takes your empty seat at the bar, her best friend turning towards her a brow arched.
“Well, THAT didn’t go as planned.” Alex sighs, tracing the rim of your empty glass.
Kelley huffs.
“Yeah, maybe you should go check on Y/N.” She says, nodding towards the bathroom, her eyes widening when she sees you slipping out the back door of the bar.
“Yeah, I will.” She says, moving to her feet and following after you, the woman’s breath hitching sharply when you press her against the brick wall of the bar’s exterior.
Alex’s blue orbs lock with your Y/E/C’s, a fire smoldering behind your eyes that makes her weak at the knees.
You surge forwards, pressing your lips hard against hers, your tongue pushing its way past her lips.
Alex moans as you hitch her leg up and around your waist as your kiss, your tongue dominating hers easily.
The forward is unable to stop a moan from tumbling out of her mouth as your hand sneaks up her dress and between her legs, your fingers tracing her slit through her panties before you draw relentless circles against her clit.
“Fuck.” She moans, wrapping her arms tightly around you as you work mercilessly between her legs.
Unsurprisingly, you were hard, the woman you loved moaning in your arms combined with the thrill of being caught made you harden rather quickly.
Alex’s brows furrow, the woman whining when your hand leaves the apex of her thighs, the woman now significantly wet, which is exactly what you wanted.
“The only thing you’re coming on is my cock.” You say, Alex's eyes widening when you undo your pants, pulling your zipper down slowly.
You tug your pants down slightly, enough for your erection to spring free, Alex eyeing it hungrily.
She spreads her legs allowing you to push her panties to the side before running your head between her lower lips, the woman sighing.
“Do you want to keep going?” You ask, stilling, waiting for your fiancé to give you the go ahead.
“Yes.” She nods rapidly, whimpering when you teasingly prod against her entrance.
“Just, let me know if you want to stop, okay?” You ask, earning a rapid nod, Alex’s arms slipping beneath your own, her hands splayed on your back.
In one swift motion, you thrust into her, the woman gasping loudly against your neck, her walls fluttering around you.
Alex groans as you cock your hips upwards, your member reaching places only you could reach.
“Who does this belong to...?” You ask, thrusting harder, Alex’s mouth agape as you thrust into her rapidly.
Alex’s mouth opens and closes, the woman unable to find her words as she bounces on your cock, the appendage slipping in and out of her rapidly.
“Whose is it, Alex?” You ask, thrusting up into her with authority, the woman moaning loudly as you slam into her roughly.
“It’s yours.” She moans, her nails digging into your back.
“Say it louder, whose pussy is this?” You ask, the woman bouncing erratically on your cock.
“It’s yours!” She yells, hooking a leg up around your waist, her breath hitching rapidly.
The woman comes undone on your cock, moaning loudly into your chest as she shakes in your hold, her walls clamping down around your member.
You thrust up into her, groaning when you too reach your climax, filling the woman with your seed.
She trembles in your hold as you kiss her neck, continuing to thrust gently until you both still.
You remain sheathed in her as you kiss her neck repeatedly, your nose running along her jawline before your lips find hers, the two of you kissing softly.
You kiss lazily for a minute or so before you part, the woman grunting when your member slips out of her, leaving a literal mess in her panties.
“I-I didn’t hurt you, did I?” You ask worriedly, fearful that you’d let your jealousy and anger get the best of you.
She shakes her head rapidly.
“No, exact opposite.” She laughs, and you exhale loudly, the breath you were holding finally releasing.
“Honestly, this was the outcome I wanted.” She smirks and you chuckle.
“Oh really?” You ask and she giggles.
“I guess I didn’t expect him to come on so strongly.” She mumbles and you snort.
“He ran away pretty quickly.” You chuckle, Alex ducking down to press sloppy kisses to your neck.
“What do you say we take this home?” She asks, nibbling on your pulse point.
She lets out a squeak when your hands run from the small of her back to her ass, giving it a squeeze.
“I like the sound of that.” You say, leaning in to press a kiss to her lips.
“We should PROBABLY tell Kelley we’re leaving.” She giggles against your lips, and you nod, the two of you making yourselves presentable before slipping back into the bar.
Kelley spots you from across the room, the woman rolling her eyes, her brows arched.
“Calling it a night?” She asks and you shrug apologetically.
“Something came up.” Alex says and Kelley snorts.
“Oh, I bet it did.” She laughs and your cheeks flush.
“You forgot your zipper.” She says, motioning to your pants, your flush deepening as you tug your zipper up.
Alex gives her a nudge as she takes your hand, dragging you towards the bar’s entrance.
Kelley rolls her eyes, the woman making her way out of the bar a few moments later, scoffing when she sees the two of you zipping out of the parking lot and down the road.
She shakes her head, mumbling to herself as she heads to her car.
“An alleyway, seriously?”
************************************************************************
The second the front door slammed shut behind you, the two of you are kissing, your clothes strewn along the floor as you fumble your way through the house and towards the bedroom.
You eventually reach the bed, depositing Alex, who you’d been carrying on its surface.
She crawls to the end of the bed, pushing herself up to her knees before shedding your boxers, taking your semi-hard cock in her hands.
“Fuck.” You grunt, tilting your head back as she lavishes your member with attention, stroking it until you’re fully erect.
Alex’s smirks devilishly as she leans in, her tongue running along your length.
“Shit.” You moan, the woman taking your head into her mouth.
You do your best to keep yourself from thrusting further into her mouth, the woman laying special attention to your head before taking the rest of your length into her mouth, her head bobbing up and down.
“Feels so good.” You groan, the woman taking nearly your entire member into her mouth, which was no small feat.
It isn’t long before she’s releasing your cock with a pop, the woman taking in some air before she’s back at it again.
Your thighs start to shake, your hips trusting slightly upward, pushing your cock further into her mouth.
“I-I’m gonna come.” You moan, groaning when Alex’s hands grab your ass, the woman pulling your hips forward, encouraging you to thrust into her mouth.
You stiffen moments later, groaning loudly as you come undone, Alex unwilling to let a drop of your release go anywhere besides down her throat.
She licks you clean, releasing your head with a slurp, the sound making your hips stutter.
“That was--” You pause, whimpering as you’re hit by what can only be described as an aftershock.
You whimper when she again takes you into your mouth, sure to catch the tiny bit of your release that had crept out.
Alex gasps when you push her backwards onto the bed, the woman shuffling upwards until her head hits the pillows at the head of the bed.
Thankfully, in your fumbling towards the bedroom, Alex had been completely stripped bare, no barrier between your hands and her skin.
Her hips arch off the bed as you trail down her body, your lips wrapping around one of her nipples as you give it a suckle, earning a whimper in response.
You work your way down her body, your tongue swiping at your lips when you reach your destination.
“Oh, Oh shit!” Alex cries out when you dive between her legs with no sense of hesitation, your tongue running along her slit before pushing your way between her lips, purposely avoiding her clit as you revel in her taste.
“You did a LOT of teasing tonight, Morgan.” You say, your eyes meeting hers, the woman visibly pouting.
“I think it’s time for payback.” You wink, again burying your face between her legs, the forward knowing she was in for a long night.
************************************************************************
A bead of sweat ran down Alex’s face as you licked the apex of her thighs, the woman soaked and on the precipice of a powerful orgasm.
You’d indeed gotten your payback, continuing to work her up before pulling away from the apex of her thighs, the woman whining loudly each and every time.
It’s when you climb entirely on top of her that she groans.
“I-I’m so close, pl-please.” She stutters, her eyes glassy and you smirk, glancing between your bodies.
“Can you take me?” You ask as you run your head between her soaked lips, the woman moaning.
“Please.” She moans, wrapping her legs around you, her feet against your ass as she pulls you in, your head slipping into her tight heat.
“Fuck.” Alex sighs as you continue sliding into her until you bottom out, the woman’s walls fluttering rapidly around you.
“You’re gonna come so hard.” You comment as you give your hips a thrust, the woman’s mouth agape as you thrust into her.
Alex started to tremble, her eyes almost immediately rolling into the back of her head as she screams loudly, her orgasm ripping through her.
You continue your thrusts, the woman shuddering violently, her toes curling almost painfully as her walls clamp down around you.
Watching the woman, you wanted to marry have such a powerful orgasm throws your headlong into your own, your member buried deep inside her as your seed spurts from your tip making its home within her.
The two of you tremble, your muscles contracting as you hover over Alex, the woman blinking rapidly, in a complete state of bliss.
“God, that was so fucking good.” She says, her chest rising and falling rapidly.
You duck down, pressing a kiss to her lips, a kiss that immediately grows heated, your tongues tangling.
It’s only when Alex moans that you realize you were thrusting into her again, her walls warm and welcoming.
In one swift motion, your positions are switched, your eyes widening when you see Alex hovering over you, the woman sinking down onto your hard cock.
“Jesus.” You sigh, the woman’s tongue swiping at her lips, her brows furrowed as she lifts her hips before dropping them back down, your member sliding in and out of her tight heat.
She tilts her head back, gripping her breasts as she rides you, wanting to tumble over the edge at least one more time before the two of you collapse out of exhaustion.
You give her thighs a slap, the woman whimpering as you thrust your hips upwards, establishing a rhythm.
“S-So good.” Alex whispers, her movements quickly becoming irregular.
You thrust upwards as rapidly as you can, Alex eventually stiffening, a raspy moan crawling up her throat as she comes for a third time that night, her muscles contracting as she spasms.
You thrust roughly upwards, burying yourself in her as you too orgasm, Alex’s walls milking you for all you’re worth.
Alex collapses on top of you, your member slipping out of her, leaving a mess in its wake.
She presses a few tender kisses to your lips before burying her face in your neck, still attempting to catch her breath.
“That was...” She pauses, a grin stretching across your face.
“Incredible.” You pant and she giggles.
“Yeah.” She whispers against your neck, her hot breath dampening your already sweat covered skin.
“I guess I need to make you jealous more often.” She teases and you growl.
“You better not.” You mumble and she hums.
“I mean, if this is the outcome every time, I’ll have to flirt even harder.” She jests, yelping when you roll over on top of her.
“Don’t even think about it.” You say, giving her neck a playful nip.
Her hands make their way to your back, her fingers drawing small circles on the muscular expanse of your back.
“I’m thinking about it.” She giggles and you growl, giving her a bit of a harder bite.
“If you do, I’ll make sure you can’t walk next time.” You growl, pulling back to look in her blue orbs, the woman biting back a smile.
“Is that a promise?” She asks and you snort.
“Absolutely.”
It’s only a few weeks later that you make do on that promise, having your way with the woman in such a way that she has a noticeable shift in her normal walk, something that makes you smirk.
“I mean, I DID promise.” You say as you jog passed her at practice and she scoffs, swatting at you playfully.
“Shut up.”
#uswnt x reader#uswnt imagine#alex morgan x reader#alex morgan imagine#this title may suck but I sat here for over an hour unable to think of a damn name
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I love picturing the moment Buck realizes that Tommy isn't getting bored of him or plotting to leave him behind. Not necessarily after a big traumatic situation -- I'm picturing them drinking coffee together one morning, Buck holding onto Tommy's hand, and Tommy saying something about mornings being better with Buck.
It was about seven months into their relationship, when Buck knew he was going to be with this man for the rest of his life.
Tommy had just finished brewing their coffee, neither of them had a shift today so they were going to the San Diego Zoo to look at the newborn otters.
Buck was still settling into their routines, getting used to having someone so kind and attentive to his needs- it made him happy- but at the same time it filled him with dread.
Dread because nothing good in his life ever lasted- Dread because Tommy was sure to get bored of him soon- get bored of taking these baby steps with him instead of dating someone who was already out for years prior. Evan knew Tommy would grow tired of taking care of him- Evan knew he was “so needy” and so it made it difficult to enjoy these domestic moments- because all he could think about, in the quiet, in the natural lull of the conversation- was when it was all going to end.
Tommy turned around to face Buck, holding both of their coffee mugs; when he suddenly paused.
It was.. scary. How accurately Tommy could read Buck. It left him feeling exposed- especially when Tommy was impossible to read. The man was so damn cool and suave.
“You know,” Tommy began, sitting down across from his boyfriend, getting his attention. “I used to love mornings.”
“Oh yeah?” Evan mumbled and reached out for his coffee, only half paying attention. Still worried about losing everything.
“Oh yeah.” Tommy nodded “I didn’t like the quiet of the night- so getting up and ready for work was no problem for me. Everyone always complained that I was too chipper in the morning- but hey if it gave me a reason to get up and get out of bed- then who cares right?”
“Mhm.” Evan nodded
“But then- this adorable- and dorky firefighter crawled his way into my heart and now,” Tommy sighed dramatically, placing a hand over his forehead for effect. “I hate mornings.. because morning means I have to drag myself out of bed- out of the warm embrace of my favorite person in the world.. and we have to go our separate ways.”
Evan looked up at Tommy’s words, snorting when his boyfriend was being over dramatic. “So.. what do you like now?” He asked curiously
“Now, Evan. I like nights. Didn’t used to before. Too quiet. But that same adorable, oh and dorky, firefighter that crawled his way into my heart?” Tommy hummed “well he also crawled his way into my home- my life- filling my house with laughter and his presence- and silly little trinkets to remind me of him when he can’t be there.” Tommy gestured over to the framed photo of the two of them at the aquarium, sitting on the coffee table. Then at the accompanying otter stuffed animal, lying right next to the photo.
“And nights? Nights mean reuniting with said favorite person. They mean sharing dinner and a conversation- they mean cuddling and watching a movie.. or doing something else.. while we watch a movie.” Tommy chuckled before continuing, “My point is.. you have - changed me. For the better. In such a short amount of time. Improved my life significantly.. and I wouldn’t trade it for the world.” Tommy placed two fingers underneath his chin and pulled him into a kiss.
“Now come on. Let’s get going.” Tommy stood up, and headed for the door, leaving Buck to have a moment to himself.
I hope you enjoyed it ! :)
#911 abc#evan buckley#bucktommy#tommy kinard#buck 911#tevan#evan buck buckely#kinkley#ficlet#911 fic#tevan fic
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If You Insist || Jake "Hangman" Seresin
Summary: Request - What if one of reader's love language Is act of service,She used to prepare a lunch box for her and her (now ex) boyfriend but he never appreciated the gesture,because he isn a kid and could buy food like his other team mates... Read Rest Here
A/N: This is just PURE fluff. Insecure reader a little bit and a very confident fluffy Jake!
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Y/N
Word Count: 3.0k +
While you finished putting the leftovers away into glass containers Jake finished off the dishes beside you humming a song you didn’t recognize. You danced alongside him regardless, his bounciness rather infectious. You found everything about the blonde man beside you mesmerizing. Even after as long as you’ve known him and as long as you’ve been dating him you never ceased to get butterflies by his flirty comments. He never grew tired of making you blush. The day you stopped was the day he knew he fucked up.
No matter how tired he was after a long day in the air he made sure to never let you have the brunt of the chores when it came to housework. He knew you worked just as hard, if not harder, as a patent lawyer for a local firm that kept you very busy. Jake didn’t know the half of your job but when it came to listening to you dominate a conversation on the phone he knew he was absolutely head over heels for you. He found you so damn attractive when you put people down with legal jargon he could hardly understand. He was rather helplessly in love with you. Not that he minded, not a bit. He loved being in love with you. It was easy with you. Blissful with you.
Good thing too, because you were just as in love with him as he was with you. While he hadn’t proposed just yet he had big plans too. He knew he wanted to do something with the jets he flew on a daily basis but just hadn’t figured out the perfect plan. So, it’d just gave to wait a little while he talked it through with his coworkers formulating a fool proof plan that’d surly have you saying yes to him.
You and Jake had met by complete chance at the national air show during fleet week in San Diego. You’d been dragged out by your roommate who claimed you never did anything fun, so you had to prove her wrong. To your absolute horror you quite literally ran into Jake, spilling your nacho cheese all over the front of his Navy whites. You’d become a stuttering mess of a human and nearly cried you were so embarrassed when you saw the fake yellow cheese coat his perfectly pristine uniform. But Jake took it in stride. He calmed you down reassuring you that he wasn’t mad or upset. He was actually thrilled you ran into him because you were ‘quite stunning’ which brought out a brilliant blush to your cheeks. That same blush Jake strived to get from you on a daily basis. He had yet to fail.
From that moment on the two of you were glued at the hip. You’d taken it slow going from acquaintances to friends to best friends before he finally worked up the courage to ask you on a date a year after the nacho cheese fiasco. Fast forward another year and you’d never been happier in your life. You’d been dating and falling helplessly in love with your best friend. A man you only knew as Jake but heard of the stories of him as his callsign Hangman.
“Thank you.” You smiled sweetly at your boyfriend as he took the last plate from your hands.
“No need to thank me sweetheart.” He put the plate in the dishwasher, cleaned his hands and walked right up to you before planting a soft kiss right on your forehead, “Teamwork, remember?” He raised his eyebrows at you referencing an earlier conversation the two of you had regarding housework. You felt guilty early on in the relationship when he would do random chores or cook you dinner. You felt like a failure of a girlfriend. That’s how your ex would’ve framed it anyway. He wasn’t the best guy you’d come to learn as you figured out what a loving relationship was actually supposed to be like. Jake had reassured you that as partners he would take on some of the housework and help you out. He’d made it clear it was a partnership that was always going to be worked on.
You hummed acknowledging him, “I know, I still appreciate it though.” You leaned up on your tippy toes kissing his cheek with a slowness about you that wanted to cherish the still moment you were having with the man you adored, “I appreciate you.”
He scooped you up in his arms with ease, “Of course darlin’.” Kissing your nose this time he walked over to the couch carrying you in his arms where he set you down softly before pulling you into him once more. Not that you were complaining. You learned quickly how much of a physical touch kind of guy he was. You initially weren’t. But you’d come to love it. You loved giving him what he needed and craved, it made you feel good.
“Thank you for dinner.” He squeezed your hip, “It was delicious.” Jake lived for moments like these. Moments where it was just you and him. The house was quiet. Life was relaxed. You were as beautiful as ever. It revived him after long days of relentless thinking and berating from his superiors. You recharged him without doing a single thing. That’s how he knew you were his one and only. He just wanted to be around you, no question. He’d choose you over and over again without so much as a second thought. He thought he knew love before you, but he was sorely mistaken. Each and every day with you was a gift he made sure to cherish and relish. He just hoped you knew how much you meant to him. How he literally couldn’t do life without you anymore. You were his shining beacon, his north star, the guiding light he never knew he needed. And he couldn’t bear the thought of losing that thing that kept him chugging along. He needed you. Now and forever.
You grinned up to him, brushing his overgrown hair out of his face, “You know it babe. I know you’ve had a rough week. Want to talk about it? You don’t have to if you don’t want to but it looks like somethings on your mind?” You asked softly noticing the small changes. He never snapped at you, but he seemed more irritated, more on edge. Had he gotten a new assignment? Gotten into an argument with a superior? It wasn’t like him to not talk to you about it, no matter how small.
He laughed it off softly, “It’s dumb, really.”
You shook your head before resting it on his chest. Breathing in his scent you were sure you’d never tire of it. He always just smelled so damn good. No matter what. After a workout? He smelled heavenly. A long day of work? No sweat, he smelled perfect. Waking up? The most amazing morning scent. You were attracted to him no matter what. That’s how you knew you were a goner. He never made you angry or annoyed either. As much as you loved your friends and family they still always annoyed you to pieces when you spent an extended amount of time with them. Not Jake, no. You could spend every second tied at the hip for the rest of eternity and still have a good time.
“I promise it’s not dumb if it’s bothering you.” You spoke as you nuzzled your head into the crook of his neck.
He wrapped an arm around you to secure into his chest, “The admiral decided the cafeteria needed a renovation, so we’ve been without one for the week. Thought it’d be okay but I’m struggling. We’re all struggling” He laughed hating to admit how defeated he was by the simple problem, “Not enough time to run out for food and well… I haven’t packed a lunch since I was twelve. Seems like the whole squadron is in the same boat.”
You smiled giving him a squeeze, “That’s not dumb Jake. You’re just hungry my love.”
He gave you a sheepish smile back, “I haven’t taken it out on you, have I?”
Shaking your head you ran along his arm, “Hardly. You just seemed a little more agitated this week is all.”
“Nothing gets by you, does it?” He closed his eyes leaning back into the couch relishing every second he got with you like this. Utter peace. He’d wish for nothing else other than this. Life was bliss with you.
You laughed softly letting yourself mold into him preparing yourself for the movie night Jake had proposed earlier on during dinner. Your favorite kind of night. A night spent in cuddling up to your favorite human to ever exist. This was what life was made for. What else could you really ask for?
“Hardly.” You yawned mumbling into his side feeling your week catch up to you, “I’d be a shitty lawyer if it did.”
“You could never be shitty at anything, not even if you tried darlin’.” Jake spoke while rubbing your head with the softest strokes knowing it was your ultimate weakness. You wouldn’t be awake for too much longer if he continued doing it and he knew it.
You hummed, “Flatter me Seresin.” You felt drunk for the tiredness the didn’t allow your eyes to open.
You felt the vibration of his chest before hearing the sound of his laughter, “Flattery or truth?”
Mumbling something incoherent you didn’t even know you were saying you let the darkness take over as you fell asleep on your rock. He made you feel more safe and secure than anyone or anything had before. He was worth the wait and the shitty relationships you struggled through before.
You didn’t think much of it as you packed a second lunch for Jake while making your own the next morning. You had to be in early this week for court, so you were up before him for a change. You’d decided to just go ahead and pack the innocent man his own lunch that would actually fill him up instead of the random shit you knew he just threw together in the morning while he was half awake.
You wrote him a simple note, ‘Hope you enjoy, love you!’ Leaving it on top of the food and putting it in the fridge hoping he’d appreciate the small gesture.
You’d forgotten all about it until Jake had made it back to your apartment that night. You weren’t expecting him but it was always a pleasant surprise when he did come over. Instead of his usual gentle kiss he all but bull rushed you into a corner before scooping you up and slathering you in a slew of kisses all over your face.
You started giggling feeling all too giddy with his lips all over and his hands roaming your waist, “Jake!” You couldn’t contain the laughter from the high of the interaction between you and him. God, you loved this man beyond measure.
“I love you soooo much.” He grinned once he pulled back. He made sure to go in for one, much longer, kiss on your lips before wrapping his
You kept on giggling not sure where this was all coming from. Not that you were complaining. Not in the slightest. It was refreshing to have a partner who was so forthcoming with how he felt. It was so different than any relationship you had been in prior.
“I love you too! Where’s this coming from?” You had to ask hoping it wouldn’t dampen his sweet mood.
“You packed me a lunch. Do you know how jealous the squadron was? Rooster couldn’t believe it. Phoenix was jealous as hell. Fanboy was all but begging for the sandwich you packed.” He snickered recalling the envious faces of his dagger coworkers.
You shook your head, “That was nothing babe.” You said as if it were nothing. Truth be told you were insecure about the whole thing. Not knowing if you overstepped a boundary or anything. The last time you tried to do something sweet like that for your ex you got scolded for wasting food because he didn’t ask you to pack him a lunch. You were careless and wasteful. You should’ve known it would’ve been different with Jake though. Everything was different when it came to Jake. The polar fucking opposite of the narcissistic guys you normally dated.
He shook his head setting you back down on the ground, “Nothing? Sweetheart! That was everything. Thank you. I love you.” He made sure to plant another soft, gentle kiss to your lips just to let you know how sincere he was being.
You grinned up to him, “Really, it was nothing.” You insisted before plating up dinner for the now two of you. You’d always made extra for lunch, so it wasn’t a hassle that he came. It was a pleasure to have his company when you were expecting to sit in silence or watch some silly rerun you’d seen a hundred times.
He eyed you knowing how hard it was for you to take compliments, “No sweetheart, that’s wifey material.” He watched your reaction seeing how’d you respond to that.
“Oh, is it?” You laughed it off setting a plate down in front of him at the table.
“Beyond.” He nodded before looking down at dinner, “And now my favorite for dinner? Like you were expecting me or something?” He gave you a grin knowing you loved the dish just as much as he did, “You’re spoiling me honey.”
You grabbed your own plate before joining him, “You deserve it. You do the same for me. Let me.”
He simply nodded his head happily grabbing at his fork, “If you insist.”
“Oh, I do babe, I do.” You gave his hand a gentle squeeze as the two of you fell into a comfortable rhythm taking about your day.
The next day at work you’d gotten a few texts from numbers you weren’t familiar with. When you finally got a second at your own lunch break to check you broke out into a grin seeing the video Bradley had sent you.
Jake was showing off the lunch you packed him to the overly jealous group of pilots. Who were all sing songing your praises.
‘You’re so lucky. My girlfriend told me to pack my own damn lunch.’ A male voice you didn’t recognize came through making you laugh.
Natasha’s unmistakable voice came next, ‘She’s too good to you Hangman.’
‘Trust me, I know.’ You heard your loves own voice sending your heart into a literal tizzy. How could he think that? If anything, it was the other way around. He was too damn good to you. You just merely tried to return the favor.
Bradley sent the video with the text, ‘You spoil him you know that? He’s become extra insufferable these last few days with your lunch specials.’ Bradley made sure to end the text with a wink letting you know he was just playing with you.
You dialed Jake’s number not sure if he was back in the skies or not. But the quick answer let you know he was still available.
“Sweetheart! Is everything okay?” he asked almost nervous for your call to him.
“All good babe.” You were grinning ear to ear, “Bradley sent me a video, enjoy your lunch?”
He chuckled. A sound you’d come to cherish over the course of your relationship with him, “Darlin’, I loved your lunch. Love your lunches. I’ve never felt so happy eating a lunch before. I’m the luckiest guy in the world. I’m being serious.” He admitted quieting down with the second part of that statement probably trying to hide it from his dagger squad members.
“I’m glad you like it hon. Just wanted to check in.” You spoke with a full on happy little smile dancing across your face. You weren’t sure what good you did to deserve a love so pure as his but damn were you thrilled you snatched it up when you could. A love so secure and sure, so positive and pure.
He clicked his tongue, “I’m going to make it up to you, tonight.”
You retuned his laugh from earlier, “Jake, that’s hardly necessary.”
You were sure he was shaking his head, “See that’s where your wrong sweetheart. It’s very necessary. I want to. What’d you say last night? Let me spoil you? Well, let me spoil you pretty.”
You wished you were at home with him right now and not separated by miles and a base, “Alright, if you insist.” You joked along with him.
“I insist. And I think you’ll like it, the surprise that is.” His voice deepened hinting at one thing and one thing only.
You twirled your hair in your hand letting your mind wander just a tad. With a love so sure it was only natural things came easily between the two of you in the bedroom, “Any hints?” You teased along with him.
“I think you have an idea sweetheart.” He didn’t miss a beat letting you know exactly what he had in mind. You, him and a lack of clothing or something like that.
You sighed internally looking at the time, only half past one. The day was going to drag on, “Can’t wait.” You let out after a quick pity party for yourself.
He gave you one last deep chuckle, “You can’t? I can’t wait to see that beautiful face.” You knew he could get a lot more… graphic with it. But he was likely standing right next to Bradley or Bob, and it wasn’t the time nor place.
Pursing your lips you stifled the laugh, “I’ll see you at my place tonight?”
“I’ll see you. Be ready. Love you.”
“And I love you.” You hummed before ending the call. Shaking your head, you placed the phone on the desk next to you. Focus. Just focus on this case for the next four hours then you had a night to Jake. You could do this. You could. Jake would surely be the death of you though. But you just couldn’t care. You were going to let yourself be distracted and happy. You were in love with the best man for you. Oh how happy life could be.
Jake Seresin/Top Gun: Permanent Taglist (Message me or comment below if you want to be added!): @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @mayhemmanaged @hardballoonlove @rosiahills22 @djs8891
Request Taglist: @mamachasesmayhem @t4medicroe @caitsymichelle13 @86laura11 @leawxlker @littleenglishfangirl @hookslove1592 @thekebs @elite4cekalyma @the-romanian-is-bae @solo2leo
#top gun maverick#top gun imagine#jake seresin x y/n#jake seresin x you#hangman x reader#jake seresin fanfic#jake seresin x reader#top gun#jake seresin#hangman x y/n#jake seresin x oc#jake seresin fanfiction#top gun hangman#jake hangman seresin x reader#hangman top gun#jake hangman seresin#jake seresin fic#jake hangman fic#jake hangman x reader#jake hangman x you#jake hangman imagine#jake hangman x y/n#top gun fanfiction#top gun x you#top gun x reader#top gun x y/n#top gun x oc#top gun fandom#top gun fic#top gun fluff
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Girl, You're My Angel - Bradley Bradshaw x Reader
summary: Bradley Bradshaw's a down on his luck first baseman in the MLB, struggling to find his stride in the game he loves so much. A wedding invite from his ex-wife is enough to convince him to go for a drink, trying to forget about everything going on. He wasn't banking on meeting you though.
pairing: baseball!Bradley Bradshaw x reader (nicknamed Angel)
warnings/content: baseball au, mentions of divorce, smoking, alcohol, reference to drunk driving, bar fight, mentions of blood, Bradley having a dirty mind.
word count: 3k.
taglist (also tagging those who were interested in Take One For The Team since it's a similar vibe and explains the lack of updates lol): @avengersfan25, @jessicab1991, @atarmychick007, @b-bradshaw, @nouis-bum, @mamachasesmayhem, @floydsmuse, @kmc1989, @dckweed, @katfanfic, @nerdgirljen, @whatislovevavy, @mrsevans90, @averyhotchner, @yuckosworld, @tgmreader, @allepaula, @lourd-ita, @mariaenchanted
The booming bass drum of a classic rock song thumped in your head as you gripped the cocktail glass in your hand. The liquid sloshed around in the glass as you danced, swaying to and fro with your best friends, trying your best to enjoy yourself on your girls’ night out. Your finals had just wrapped up, and you were this much closer to earning your masters, the only thing standing between you and getting that embossed sheet of paper, was your grades. To unwind after the cram sessions you’d mustered your way through for the past month, your friends dragged you out to some new amusement bar in the Gaslamp Quarter.
Across the bar, on the other side of the room, stood Bradley Bradshaw, a once promising baseball star who now, had earned himself a reputation as the MLB’s resident asshole - unable to take criticism or a loss without lashing out at someone. His recent stunt involved hurling his baseball bat across the diamond when he struck out in practice, frustrated with his sudden lack of skill, a skill that once came so naturally to him when his mind wasn’t preoccupied.
The invitation had come in the mail two days before the bat throwing incident. His ex-wife, the one who left him two and a half years ago, was remarrying the fucking prick she cheated on Bradley with. The invite had come completely out of the blue, and when Bradley opened it, he felt all of the air leave his lungs as his fingers traced over the gold embossed lettering, donning her name and the name of her new fiancé. He’d never admit it to anyone, but that single piece of cardstock had been enough to reduce him to tears, slumping down the kitchen wall as he hugged his knees to his chest, crying loud enough that it made him thankful he had no neighbours near by.
Bradley had pulled himself together, lit a cigarette from the pack he’d been nursing for the last few months, reserved only for social events and times of pure stress, and got in his vintage Ford Bronco, his first purchase when he signed his first contract. Taking a drag from the cigarette, his brown eyes scanned over San Diego’s downtown core as he cruised past a few of the typical nightlife spots - each one a little too public for what he wanted. All other options exhausted, he pulled up outside of a newer bar that had opened the previous week, neon lights advertising an arcade on one side and drinks on the other.
He figured if nothing else, a couple of rounds of Pac-Man on an old video game after a handful of beers might do him good. He could leave the Bronco parked there and walk to the hotel around the corner, and forget about how his ex-wife’s wedding was coming up in six months, how she’d had the audacity to invite him to see her marrying the guy he’d walked in on her with.
He sidled up to the bar, nodding his head to the bartender in thanks as he ordered himself a beer. Standing across from him was a group of women, not much younger than him, gossiping and giggling together. He sized the group up, thinking to himself that maybe a one-night deal was what he needed to take his mind off his ex.
You were the tallest girl of the group, with bright eyes, and hair brushed back in a sleek, high ponytail, sporting a form-fitting cocktail dress that made Bradley’s heart race when he saw you. He pounded back the rest of his beer, trying to find his confidence in himself once again in the comfort of the drink.
Bradley set his empty bottle down on the bar top before walking his way around the circular counter. He rested his elbow on the bar, leaning in with a broad smile as you looked in his direction. He offered a polite wave of his hand, chuckling awkwardly as he felt his confidence wavering as he spoke to you.
“Hey, could I buy you a drink? He said simply, his Virginian accent dropping into a thicker drawl than usual.
“I’m good, thanks, still got one,” You held up your half-full glass and shook your head politely, not wanting to reject him too brutally.
Bradley nodded his head once at you, his smile faltering for a second. He quickly regained himself, smiling once again politely before grabbing himself another beer and heading over to the arcade, resolving that a couple of old-school video games might make his night a little better.
It wasn’t that he wasn’t used to rejection - he’d been turned down almost as often as he’d been accepted, but for some reason, your rejection stung just that little bit more. Maybe it was the wedding invitation still making things sour, or maybe it was the fact that the mere sight of a girl hadn’t been enough to make his heart accelerate like this in a long time. He shook his head once, trying to focus his train of thought once again on something, anything other than what was currently occupying it.
Baseball? Too stressful, his game was starting to slip up on him. Buying a puppy? No, it’d just be one more thing he could let down. Hitting the gym? He already went 6 days a week - if he went any more frequently, he’d have to consider moving his bed in there.
His mind raced as he pressed the buttons on the video game, moving the small yellow circle across the screen, collecting points between sips of beer. Behind him, he heard a couple of guys shouting at a tv screen, the sound of the latest sports highlights blaring out in the background.
“This Bradshaw asshole needs to get his shit together. Twenty-nine and he plays about as well as my ten year old. Drop him down to the minors or get rid of the bastard. He shouldn’t be missing plays like this.” One of the voices shouted at the tv, his friends nodding their heads in silent agreement with his rant.
Bradley felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand at attention as the insults about his playing continued to spout from this guy’s mouth. He couldn’t have been much older than Bradley was, one of those armchair commentators who probably hadn’t swung a bat since Little League. As the criticism continued, each jab focused directly at Bradley’s game performance, missing one play that cost a game - one that he’d already been feeling pissed off about - it became harder to ignore.
“I bet that hot little piece of ass wife of his left him because she knew he was a dogshit baseball player.”
Bradley spun around on his heels so fast that he swore the room was spinning. He turned to face the group, crowded in a corner in front of the tv, faces all glued to the female commentator. Bradley could practically hear the derogatory thoughts they were having about her and it only fuelled his anger more.
“Hey, man, if you’ve got an issue with how I play the game, I’d like to see you get off your ass and go play nine innings against Boston. Keep my ex-wife’s name out of your mouth.” Bradley scoffed, narrowing his dark brown eyes at the trio.
“You got a problem, jackass?” The other man growled, raising an eyebrow at Bradley as he slammed his drink down on the table. “She probably left you for that rookie because even she knew you weren’t good for anything.”
“That so? Your wife would probably like to go a couple rounds with me though.” Bradley retorted, a devilish smirk forming on his face as he folded his muscular arms across his chest.
Before Bradley had time to blink, the man drew back his arm and landed a hard punch to Bradley’s jaw. Bradley quickly delivered a stronger hit to the man’s face, watching him stumble backwards for a second. Bradley turned around and walked outside, getting ready to light another cigarette as he ran his hand over his jaw, assessing if he had any damage to worry about.
The man returned, practically running outside after Bradley. More heated words were exchanged, insults flying between them both before the man delivered another hit, this time to Bradley’s nose. He shook his hand off and headed off down the street with his friends, disappearing off to the next bar. Bradley held his nose, blood dripping down from his nostrils and onto his hand.
You and your friends had heard the commotion when it unfolded inside, and decided to head out, having enough excitement for one night. As you stepped out, you saw the man who’d hit on you earlier, this time with his nose bleeding onto the pavement under him. You ran over to him, raising an eyebrow.
“What did you do, hit on a girl who had a boyfriend?” You asked playfully as you rooted through your purse for something to help clean his nose.
“Called a guy out for saying my ex-wife was a “hot piece of ass”, actually,” Bradley nodded once, gratefully taking the tissues from you and using them to clean his nose.
“Stick your hand out for a sec,” you instructed, squirting a dollop of scented hand sanitizer into his large palm before raising an eyebrow at him, “You don’t have anything I could catch from helping you without gloves?”
“What the hell is that suppose to mean?” Bradley scoffed, trying to laugh but wincing instead, “And why the fuck does my hand smell like a flower?”
“Lavender hand sanitizer. It’s not as good as washing your hands, but it’ll do while we’re outside. And I’m going to hold the tissues in place while you rub it into your hands, but I don’t want to catch something. I’m just fresh out of latex gloves.”
“Good thing. I’m allergic,” he laughed, shrugging his shoulders as he tried to brave through the pain, “I’m clean. You’re fine. I get drug tested and physicals through work constantly.”
“What kind of a job provides those? Military?”
“Professional athlete.” He nodded as you pinched the tissues to his nose, applying pressure to help with the bleeding. “Fuck, that hurts.”
“Your nose is broken, it’s suppose to hurt.”
“What are you, a doctor?”
“No, just wrote my finals for a masters in nursing.”
“Close enough,” Bradley nodded slightly, cringing as you continued to apply pressure to his nose.
You rooted through your purse, laughing softly as you pulled a tampon out of your bag. Bradley raised an eyebrow at you, not quite registering what the item was until you pulled the plastic wrapping off of it, stuffing the garbage back into your purse.
“What the fuck do you plan on doing with that?”
“I need to stick it up your nose on the left side. It’s bleeding more than I’d like to see, and a broken nose should probably be set in a medical setting. This way, you won’t bleed all over my car.”
“Your car? You’ve been drinking.”
“Half a vodka-cran over the span of three hours? I think I’m probably not gonna blow over the limit.”
“You are not sticking that up my nose,” he replied stubbornly, arms folding over his chest like a petulant child.
“Look at your shirt,” you laughed, gesturing to the white floral print button down he was wearing, its collar now tinged with red and pink splotches.
“Fine,” he said with a reluctant sigh, “but if anyone finds out about this, I’m denying it.”
“Your secret’s safe with me,” you nodded as you offered him the plastic applicator.
Bradley rolled his eyes and reluctantly pressed the bottom of the applicator, pushing the tampon into the edge of his nose. He looked at you with another dramatic eyeroll and shook his head before walking down the street to a garbage can. He discarded the applicator before turning to face you, sighing.
“I can take myself to a hospital, you know.”
“I’m already here, I may as well come with you. Besides, I feel kinda bad about turning you down.”
“Oh, so you’re taking care of me out of pity?” He teased, raising an eyebrow.
“Maybe. Even more so with a tampon hanging out of your nose.”
“It’s quite the fashion statement, isn’t it?” He laughed softly, unbuttoning his dress shirt. He shrugged the shirt off his shoulders, revealing a clean white t-shirt.
You unlocked your car, the familiar beep as the doors unlocked causing Bradley to stifle a laugh.
“What is that?!”
“My car,” you responded matter-of-factly, “What does it look like?”
“One of those cars for a Barbie doll that my goddaughter plays with,” he said as he flourished his hand, gesturing to your pink steering wheel cover and coordinating seat cover.
“Listen, I like pink. Now are you getting in, or do I have to make you?”
Bradley’s eyes widened for a moment, your playful threat of making him get into the car sending his mind into a frenzy again. He eyed you up and down again, and found himself shaking his head as he wondered what colour underwear you had on under your dress. He bet it was probably a coordinating pink set - the kind that Victoria’s Secret mannequins would model in the store window, with delicate little bows or lace or something adorning them.
Focus, Bradley. She doesn’t want to sleep with you. Stop thinking about her.
He sat down in the passenger’s seat, watching as you hopped into the driver’s side. As you pulled away from the curb, he raised an eyebrow at your choice in music as Taylor Swift started blaring from the speaker.
“You can change it if you want to,” you nodded. “You can put on whatever.”
“No, no, It’s fine. I actually like this song.”
“You said you’re a professional athlete? What sport do you play?”
“Baseball,” he said, slowly nodding his head, “my headshot’s on a flag outside of Petco Park.”
“I thought I recognized you, you’re that player everyone always talks about, right?”
“Unfortunately. It’s rarely good things.”
“How come?”
Bradley sighed, raising an eyebrow, “You know they talk about me but not why?”
“I don’t follow baseball, I've actually never even seen a game, live or on tv. I just know my friend does and she told me everyone talks about you. Bradshaw, right? Number 10?”
“Yeah, that’s me. Bradley Bradshaw. First baseman, used to have a promising career, then, you know, wife cheats on me with a rookie from a rival team, catch her in a hotel room that I paid for with him, and then, despite me stupidly telling her I forgave her and you know what, I was pissed, but I loved her anyway and I blamed myself for her cheating, she served me divorce papers. Said I was incapable of loving anything but baseball. Says the woman who refused to do anything with me when I tried to be loving and affectionate. My friends swear she only married me for the status and the paycheck. Her new fiancé just signed a multi-million dollar contract that’s being talked about as one of the highest in the league, so it sort of checks out.”
“Jeez,” you whistled, shaking your head, “I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. It was two and half years ago. I just, I haven’t found my stride again yet, I guess.”
“Is that why you got defensive about her?”
“They said she left me for this other guy because she knew I was a dogshit ball player. I mean, it’s probably not far off. But, I got an invite for her wedding in the mail today, and I was already on edge, so I sort of…snapped.”
“She invited you?!”
“Yeah, like that, huh? She probably thought I have someone new I’m seeing and that we could still be friends or some shit.”
“So you need a date?”
“I’m not going,” he said firmly, shaking his head. “I’m not going.”
“Why not? Free drinks for a night, you can wish her well while secretly hoping her husband’s ball career washes out on him in a year or two.”
Bradley chuckled, shrugging his shoulders as he gestured his hand towards you, “I like your thinking actually, but I’m not going alone.”
“I’ll go with you,” you offered, shrugging your shoulders, “When is it?”
“In six months, you don’t need to come with me though. I’ll send her some cheap gift and call it a day.”
“No,” you insisted as you pulled into a parking space at the hospital’s urgent care clinic, “I’ll come with you. I love a good revenge story. Besides, it could be fun. I’ve never partied with a bunch of baseball players before.”
“You’re…you’re something else, you know that?”
“You mean, you don’t have dozens of women offering you a tampon to stop your nosebleed, driving you to the hospital and then offering to accompany you to your ex-wife’s wedding date?” you challenged.
“Can’t say that I do, no.”
“Well, I’m honoured to be your first.”
Bradley couldn’t help his ear to ear grin as he followed you into the hospital. Despite his bloodied, battered nose, which was hurting more than he cared to let on, and his fledging career, falling apart around him as he stood there, he felt genuinely excited. Excited to get to know you better. Excited to see where things went with you. He felt a promising sense in your words - like maybe, just maybe, he might be able to be done with one-night-stands and empty beds in the morning. He felt giddy, like a teenager going on a first date with his high school crush. He wasn’t sure if it was the pain from his nose or the alcohol talking, but he was almost convinced you were a guardian angel of sorts. Refusing to believe that someone like you could be anything but.
First things first though, he needed to bring you to a baseball game.
#bradley bradshaw#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw au#bradley bradshaw x y/n#bradley bradshaw x you#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley rooster bradshaw au#bradley rooster bradshaw x you#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw x y/n#rooster bradshaw#rooster bradshaw au#rooster bradshaw x you#rooster bradshaw x reader#rooster bradshaw x y/n#top gun maverick au fic#baseball au
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too sweet (part 1)
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female!Reader Word count: 6.4k CW: Use of Y/N, occasional swears
As Natasha's lifelong best friend, you've always known her crew was off-limits, especially one cocky aviator with a killer smile: Jake "Hangman" Seresin. But when you take a writing retreat to sunny San Diego, a break that was supposed to help you escape distractions, you find yourself sharing late-night conversations, beach bonfires, and undeniable chemistry with the one person you've been strictly forbidden to date.
This is a multi-part fic.
As soon as your plane touched down in San Diego, you were switching flight mode off and texting your best friend. It had been almost six months since the last time you saw her, and your patience had worn thin not long after the second week of her being gone. Now, you were practically bursting with excitement. As a result, you’d become one of those annoying people who got up as soon as the seatbelt sign went off, standing in the aisle with your carry-on even though the steps for the plane hadn’t even been brought onto the runway yet.
Once you eventually got off the aircraft, you ran as fast as possible with a backpack and a carry-on suitcase, not stopping until you reached passport control. Once past that particular hurdle, it was onto baggage claim. Being a full-time writer afforded you much more flexibility and freedom than most other people, especially your best friend. This was why you usually visited her and not the other way around. Since it had been so long since you last spent time together, your ticket to San Diego was one way. It seemed as though Nat was setting up shop in Fighter Town for a while, and with your latest manuscript almost ready to be sent to your editor, you were taking the opportunity for a much-needed change in pace and scenery.
The airport was busy, and you were swarmed by people from your flight trying to spot their bags on the carousel. This included the screaming set of twins and their dishevelled parents seated two rows behind you.
They were still screaming, and you were briefly reminded why you didn’t want to have any children yet. Not that there was any chance of that happening, anyway. You’d been single for so long that it was a basically a personality trait at this point.
When you spotted your suitcase, you ran to meet it and hauled it off the conveyor belt less than gracefully. The arrivals lounge was an assault on your already overloaded senses, and dragging two suitcases wasn’t making it any easier. But when you got closer to the exit, you saw Nat’s black Suburban parked right out front, and all the stress dissipated.
When you barelled out of the doors and onto the sidewalk, she jumped out of the car with a huge, uncontainable grin. Her hair was freshly cut and styled, and her skin glowed beneath the Californian sun.
North Island looked good on her.
Bags be damned, you ran into her arms, almost knocking her over. She still smelled of citrus and vanilla, which was to say that she still smelled like her family home where you’d spent most of your childhood. You’d had a couple of boyfriends in and just after college, but their hugs had never lived up to Natasha’s. There was nothing more comforting to you in the entire world.
‘Lieutenant Trace in the flesh!’ You squeaked.
‘Y/N Y/L/N, bestselling author. It truly is an honour.’
Reluctantly, you let go so you could take her in. ‘Those FaceTime calls just weren’t cutting it anymore.’ You told her, smiling. ‘You look good, Nat. Better than good.’
‘I think this place agrees with me.’ She replied. ‘You look like you need a holiday.’
‘Wow, thanks.’
She laughed. ‘You know what I mean.’
‘I know.’
She glanced at your luggage with a raised brow. ‘Let’s get what appears to be everything you own in the trunk, and then we’ll get on the road. ‘Kay?’
‘I know it looks like a lot, but you know I like to be prepared.’
You took the smaller case, and she took the bigger one. ‘For what? Moving states?’
‘My ticket is open-ended.’ You explained. ‘Once I get my manuscript in next week, I’ll be free as a bird until my editor is ready to shatter all my hopes and dreams.’
Natasha eyed you somewhat disbelievingly. ‘You’re saying you might be staying a while?’
‘If that’s okay with you, yeah.’
‘Let’s see how long it takes me to get sick of you.’ She jibed.
‘How do you know I won’t get sick of you first?’
‘Because I’m a delight.’
On the way to Nat’s apartment complex, she pointed out landmarks and told you about the latest happenings. You were mostly caught up since you spent every other evening on FaceTime, but it was always different when you caught up in person. The two of you always remembered other details you’d forgotten about.
The drive from the airport to Nat’s apartment on Island Avenue took just over fifteen minutes, and before you knew it, you were being shown to the guest room. She’d moved in a little over a month ago, after being told she was being stationed in Fighter Town indefinitely along with some of her crew from a super secret mission she’d been involved in. Nat told you more details about her work than she probably should because even if you had someone to tell, you wouldn’t. Your friendship wasn’t like most other female friendships, where you think your secret is safe until it’s not. The two of you trusted one another wholeheartedly because there genuinely wasn’t any reason not to.
The guest room was as tidy and organised as the rest of the apartment. With Autumn just around the corner, she’d adorned the double bed with pumpkin throw pillows and a dark red teddy blanket you immediately wanted to crawl under. You were thoroughly exhausted, but you knew neither of you would be going to sleep anytime soon.
‘I put my desk in here,’ she told you. ‘Since I knew it would be your room. That way, you can write while I’m on base.’
Even after all these years, things like this still warmed you. ‘Thanks, Natty.’ You said, reverting to your childhood nickname for her. ‘I appreciate it.’
‘You hungry?’
‘Practically wasting away over here.’
‘I thought you might say that. Wanna go out or order in? I can take you to this amazing restaurant I went to with some of my team a few weeks ago. It’s right by the beach.’
‘Sold.’
An hour later, you were sitting in the outside area of a trendy new steakhouse. You were so hungry after your flight that you doubted you’d have noticed if the food had been awful. Nat enjoyed her brisket immensely, so it couldn’t have been bad.
‘So,’ you said, around a mouthful of food. ‘Tell me more about this new squad. Better than the Black Aces?’
‘They’re so different, they aren’t comparable. But they’re pretty awesome.’
‘Any of them particularly awesome?’ You asked, waggling your eyebrows.
She rolled her eyes playfully. ‘No, no, and no. Even if there were, I wouldn’t do anything about it. I don’t date navy guys.’
‘I still don’t understand that.’
‘I don’t like to shit where I eat,’ she said simply. ‘Or rather, I don’t like to let men shit where I eat since usually they’re the ones doing the shitting.’
You nodded in understanding. ‘Am I gonna get to meet any of the famous Daggers?’
‘Yup. Tonight.’
Your stomach dropped. While you were definitely up for meeting them, you were a little nervous, especially since it was happening so soon.
‘Tonight?’ You echoed.
‘Friday nights, we always go to The Hard Deck after work. I’ll come back to the apartment first, change and then we can head over together.’
You hoped you were doing a good job of hiding your nerves. Nat would never let you live them down.
‘So not only am I meeting the famous Dagger Squad, but I’m also gonna experience the highly acclaimed Hard Deck on the same night.’
‘Don’t bother wearing socks, ‘cause they’re gonna be knocked right off.’ Her voice was dripping with sarcasm.
‘The novelty might have worn off for you, but this is big for me. I listen to you talk about these people and that bar day in and day out without understanding. I’m finally getting to put faces to names my best friend doesn’t shut up about. It would be like you stepping into one of my books and meeting all the characters.’
‘Okay, when you put it that way, I understand why you’re excited. But you gotta promise me one thing.’
She was suddenly all serious. ‘Anything.’ You replied earnestly.
‘Do not let Hangman charm you. I’ve already told him you’re off limits, and I’m saying the same to you. He’s bad news.’
You knew all about Hangman from Nat’s stories. There were only a few where he was one of the good guys. As a writer, you were all too familiar with the good girl falls in love with the bad guy trope, and as tantalising as it was to read about, you knew better than to fall for it in real life.
At least, you’d like to think so.
‘You don’t have to worry about that. He sounds like an asshole.’
‘You say this now, but he’s a charmer, and you’re vulnerable.’
You threw a chip at her. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘I mean no offence when I say this, but it’s been a while since you dated anyone, Y/N. I’m not saying you’re naive, but I know he’ll lay it on real thick just to mess with me, and I don’t want you to fall into his trap and get hurt.’
‘You think he’d pretend to hit on me just to get under your skin? This guy sounds even worse than I thought.’
‘You can never be too sure what his intentions are. Safer to assume that he has an ulterior motive.’
‘Well, thanks, Nat. Now I’m really nervous.’
‘You’ll be fine. I’ll be there to yank on his leash if he starts barking too loudly. And Rooster is always looking for an excuse to take him down a peg.’
In true best friend style, Natasha had emptied your suitcase in search of the perfect outfit for you to wear to The Hard Deck. Thankfully, she’d settled on one of your favourites: a black velvet romper with bell sleeves covered in little silver moons and stars. You didn’t have to debate whether to wear your hair up or down because Nat had already decided for you and was almost done curling it. You applied a thin layer of lip gloss in front of her vanity mirror while she worked her magic. You’d gone easy on the makeup since you often felt self-conscious when wearing a lot.
‘Okay, done.’ She announced, running her fingers through the curls.
She’d done a great job, better than when you did it yourself.
‘Thanks, Nat.’
‘You’re welcome. You look drop-dead gorgeous.’
In her skinny jeans, white tank and leather jacket, you thought Nat looked like a sexy biker chick, and you told her so.
‘Anyone would think you’re in love with me.’
‘So what if I am?’
You decided to get an Uber since neither of you wanted to stay sober to drive the other home. You spent the whole journey fretting that the Daggers wouldn’t like you. Maybe they’d think you were boring because you weren’t in the Navy. Perhaps they’d think being a writer wasn’t a real job (it wouldn’t be the first time someone had told you that). Or worse, maybe they’d think you weren’t good enough to be friends with the highly decorated fighter pilot who was your best friend.
By the time the Uber driver pulled up in front of The Hard Deck, your stomach was tied in knots, and you were gasping for a shot of something strong to give you a confidence boost. Despite your overwhelming sense of anxiety, you were able to appreciate how incredible The Hard Deck was. Adorned with lights and overflowing with all different kinds of people, it was the kind of place that felt almost dreamlike. Music spilled out through the open doors and windows, and the surrounding area thrummed with a near-tangible electric current.
Natasha looped her arm through yours as you headed into the bar, and you were grateful for the physical and moral support. Inside, it was a hubbub of activity. The wraparound bar—which had at least five people behind it—was surrounded by people. The crowd was at least three people deep; as soon as a bartender finished serving someone, there was another to take their place. You’d done a brief stint as a bartender just after college, and while you’d never worked somewhere quite this busy, you had a pretty good idea of how they were feeling.
A Bon Jovi song blared from a jukebox you couldn't locate. A large pool table and a mounted dart board stood in the far corner of the bustling bar. This appeared to be where Nat was leading you. A group of aviators—some still in uniform from the day, some not—stood around the pool table.
Your heart was in the base of your throat. It was beating erratically.
‘Ready?’ Nat asked, flashing you an encouraging grin.
‘Ready as I’ll ever be.’
When you reached them, those who had been immersed in their game stopped, and the others let their conversations die out. All eyes were on you, and you briefly wondered if something was on your face.
‘Guys, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is my squad.’ Each one beamed at you as they swarmed around you to shake your hand or hug you. ‘For better or worse.’ Nat said.
The tall, handsome one with the moustache and the Hawaiian shirt you knew to be Rooster playfully poked Nat in the ribs. ‘Hey, you know it’s for better.’
‘Depends on the day.’ She shrugged.
‘Y/N,’ Rooster smirked. ‘I’ve heard a lot about you.’
He had to reach down to wrap his arms around your shoulders. He smelled of sandalwood and sun lotion, and you’d already forgotten Nat’s reasons for not wanting to sleep with her squad members.
‘All good things, I hope.’
Before Rooster could respond, a strapping blonde guy with a movie-star smile cut in. ‘Better than good,’ he said with a southern drawl. ‘I feel like I’m meeting a celebrity.’
The squad collectively rolled their eyes. ‘This is Hangman.’ Nat sighed.
He held out his hand, and you took it. ‘Jake Seresin.’
‘Pleasure.’ You replied.
When you finally worked up the courage to look into his eyes, you saw chaos swimming in the blue depths. He smiled at you as if he knew what colour underwear you had on, as well as all your darkest secrets. He was disarming, and you’d always made a point to steer clear of men like that.
‘Oh, the pleasure’s all mine, darlin’.’
‘Alright, Bagman, that’s enough.’ This voice belonged to one of the shorter guys with a buzzed head and a much nicer vibe. ‘You’re gonna scare her off.’ Instead of hugging you or shaking your hand, he kissed your cheek, and you felt a surprised blush creep across your cheeks. ‘I’m Mickey, callsign Fanboy. Welcome to North Island.’
‘Thanks, Mickey. It’s nice to meet you.’
‘This here is Payback, but you can call him Reuben. I’m his backseater.’
‘Hi,’ you grinned, starting to find your feet and your confidence. ‘I hear you’re quite the pilot.’
Reuben glanced at Nat, apparently pleasantly surprised. ‘Damn, you say nice things about us behind our backs?’
‘Not all of you.’ Nat shot a pointed look at Jake. ‘But yeah. Don’t sound so surprised.’
Coyote—AKA Javy—was less intimidating than Jake, but you could tell they were privy to something you weren’t. Your mind flicked back to the conversation you’d had with Nat earlier, and you were starting to understand what she meant. Maybe they had some kind of awful bet on who could bed you first. Either way, you planned to be cordial but not engage with them any more than you had to.
Last but not least, you were introduced to Bob, Nat’s backseater and perhaps the team member she spoke most highly of. You’d been desperate to meet him for months, partly because Nat had told you he had a really funny side to him once he came out of his shell and partly because you wanted to thank him for keeping your best friend alive.
‘Y/N, this is Bob Floyd. My WSO.’
In one hand, he held a half-empty cup of peanuts. The other, he held out to you.
‘Bob, it’s an honour to meet you. Thank you for looking after Natty. I didn’t need to meet you to know that there’s nobody else I’d rather be in the sky with my best friend.’
Bob blinked at you behind his wireframes, dumbfounded by your kind words.
‘Uh, thanks, Y/N. I’m just a Weapons Systems Officer. Phoenix is the hero, not me.’
‘Don’t put yourself down. Your job is just as important, if not more so. I know she won’t mind me saying that.’
‘I agree,’ Nat said. ‘I’ve told you before, Bobby; you gotta give yourself more credit.’
Bob flushed. His eyes remained fixed on his peanuts. ‘Well, thank you. It sure means a lot.’
With the initial introductions out of the way, you could relax. Payback and Fanboy headed to the bar to get a round of drinks in while you made yourself comfortable at one of the tall tables. Rooster and Bob joined you and Nat while Coyote and Hangman resumed their game of pool. They’d been playing doubles with Payback and Fanboy, and it was their turn.
You found yourself staring at Hangman as he leaned over the table and expertly sank three balls—one after the other—into the pockets. Not that you’d ever admit it out loud, but he was gorgeous. Walking, talking Texan Ken dolls weren’t usually your type, but it was impossible to deny Jake’s appeal. Maybe it was because Nat had explicitly told you not to look that you found your eyes wandering back to him, even as Rooster launched into a story about a recent mission. Didn’t something always feel more endearing when you weren’t allowed to do it?
When Payback and Fanboy reappeared, each with a tray of drinks in hand, you could finally refocus your attention.
‘Tequila shots!’ Fanboy gestured with bravado.
‘And some beers to chase them with.’ Payback finished.
You giggled, reaching for your shot. There was enough for everyone to have two, and you made a mental note to get them both back. Hangman and Coyote sauntered over at the mention of hard liquor. It was difficult to ignore Jake when he came to your side of the table and reached over you for his shot. Was he making a point, or were you hyperaware of him after your warning from Nat?
‘What’re we toasting?’ You asked.
Rooster’s eyes twinkled as he raised his near-overflowing shot glass in your direction. ‘To old friends and new.’
The whole squad echoed his toast and downed their shots. Bob coughed and sputtered, and Fanboy smacked him on the back encouragingly, only making him cough more. Your stomach ached from laughing, and you weren’t even drunk yet.
One shot of tequila, and you were already wondering if there were any apartments for rent close to North Island.
As the night progressed and you got tipsier, you found yourself playing some kind of game with Hangman. The rest of the squad seemed totally unaware of it, for which you were incredibly grateful. If Nat or Rooster caught so much as a whiff of attraction between the two of you, you were sure they’d haul your ass home and sit you on the naughty step. You’d only known Bradley for a few hours, but you’d hit it off immediately. You understood why he and Nat were so close. He’d already adopted some kind of brotherly responsibility for you, and apparently—before your arrival—he and Nat had made a pact to protect you from Hangman at all costs. Super dramatic, but you were sure it was warranted.
Of course, this approach had the opposite effect. You found yourself drawn to him for reasons known only to the almighty. Nat and Bradley had said (not in so many words, but still) ‘fuck around and find out.’
And here you were, fucking around and finding out.
He was standing at the dart board nursing a whiskey on the rocks. Payback was taking his shot while Fanboy egged him on from the sidelines. It seemed that the two pairs had a mission to thrash each other at various bar games, and you sincerely hoped that Payback and Fanboy won at least one round of something by the end of the night just to see the smug grin wiped off Jake’s pretty face.
As for the game the two of you were playing… Well, you’d started that. He’d caught you staring at him after the second round of shots, and the look he’d given you in response had been incendiary. More for something to do with your hands and mouth, you’d taken a sip of your cocktail (courtesy of Bobby Floyd) and looked away again. You’d looked up again a little while later and caught him staring. You’d raised your eyebrows, and in response, he took a long drink of his whiskey before mouthing ‘bet.’ Thus, your little drinking game was born, and you hadn’t even had to speak to each other.
Whenever one caught the other staring, the guilty one had to take a drink.
You were more than tipsy now, so you silently promised not to look at him for a while lest you end up on the floor before 10 pm.
‘So, Phoenix tells us you’re about to finish another book.’ Bradley said, bringing you back to Earth.
‘Yeah, I’ve just gotta mess around with the ending, and then it’ll be good to go. That is until my editor tears it to shreds.’
‘Did you always want to be a writer?’ Bob asked.
He’d come out of his shell significantly since you walked into The Hard Deck earlier that evening. The two shots had helped since he wasn’t a big drinker. They’d gone right to his head, and his cheeks were stained pink. Bob was sweet and kindhearted and had a knack for making you feel seen and heard in the conversation. You’d never met a man who was so attentive before, and you got the feeling that Nat and Bradley had an agenda, what with the knowing glances they shared whenever you went off on tangents about music and different novels you’d both read.
Bob was perfect. Bob wouldn’t break your heart. Out of all the guys in The Hard Deck, he was the one who made the most sense to you.
But Bob didn’t have you shifting in your stool whenever he looked at you as warmth pooled in the bottom of your tummy.
‘For as long as I can remember, yeah.’ You responded. ‘Most people thought I was insane for choosing a liberal arts major in college. They’re notorious for leading you absolutely nowhere, but I was persistent, and now here I am.’
‘Not many people are successful enough to live off their writing, even if they get published.’ Nat added proudly. ‘She’s a one-percenter in the writer world.’
‘You know, I’ve actually read one of your books.’ Bob said, smiling down at his Corona Light, suddenly shy.
This was the kind of moment you always dreamed about as a kid: meeting someone and finding out they already knew your name because they had a copy of one of your books at home.
‘Seriously?’ You leaned forward. ‘Which one?’
‘Fourth of July.’
You were taken aback. Fourth of July wasn’t the book you were best known for, but it had been your favourite to write. It was literary fiction, and few people had the stomach for it. After publishing it, your agent practically forced you to write something on the opposite end of the spectrum, more for sales than anything else.
‘What did you think?’
‘I thought it was extremely provocative. You know the kinds of books you think about for months when you’re finished?’
Your smile was so big, your face ached with it. ‘Yeah, I know the ones you mean. You really think that?’
‘I do.’
‘I don’t even know how to respond to that. I’m so happy.’ You gushed. ‘So I’m just gonna buy you another drink.’
Bob chuckled. Nat and Bradley shared another knowing look. ‘You don’t need to do that.’
‘I want to. Besides, it’s my turn to get a round in.’
You floated up to the bar on cloud nine and made the order in such a daze that you didn’t notice Hangman slide up next to you.
‘I’ll be paying for this round, Penny.’ He drawled.
Your head snapped up. He still had that shit-eating grin on his face, and you couldn’t decide whether you wanted to slap it or kiss it off.
‘I can pay. It’s my turn.’ You insisted.
Jake waved you off. ‘You’re the honoured guest.’
‘And it’s my turn.’ You repeated sternly. ‘Plus, I’m buying Bob an extra drink as a thank you.’
Jake recoiled slightly, a bemused grin on his face. ‘For what?’
‘He gave me some great feedback on one of my books. The one I’m the least proud of. Nothing in the world beats that feeling, so I want to thank him.’
‘Trust Bobby to have read your work before knowing who you are. I bet he’s mighty pleased with himself.’ Jake ruminated. ‘He’s not the one trailing behind for once.’
You frowned deeply. ‘That’s not very nice. Bob seems like a great guy. He probably doesn’t seem like it to you because his ego isn’t the size of North Island.’
Jake laughed. ‘And you think mine is?’
Penny was smirking to herself as she poured all the drinks, and you had a feeling she’d probably back you up.
‘I think it’s probably quite close. You and Bob don’t speak the same language, so you think he’s beneath you.’
‘Come on, I don’t think he’s beneath me. You’re making me sound like a dick.’
No, actually, I think you manage that quite well on your own.’ You quipped.
Jake staggered back, clutching his chest, feigning hurt. You laughed despite yourself. His energy was contagious like that.
‘So, are you gonna let me pay for my round?’
‘How about I pay for the round, you just pay for Lieutenant Bookworm. You know, to save your conscience.’
‘Fine,’ you said, rolling your eyes. ‘But I’m gonna get the next one. I’ll just wait until you aren’t paying attention.’
Jake glanced at your lips so quickly that you would’ve missed it if you’d blinked.
‘Good luck with that, sweetheart.’
You opened your mouth to respond, but no sound came out. He’d disarmed you yet again, and you disliked feeling so helpless. It was almost as if you were at his mercy, and he knew it. Jake Seresin didn’t need any more power than he already had.
He paid Penny and took the tray of drinks over to the table. You hadn’t ordered any shots because you wanted to remember some of this night, and it was probably a good idea because you could no longer walk in a straight line. Jake went right back to the dart board, and you took your seat at the table.
‘What was that about?’ Nat asked, voice laced with concern.
‘He paid for the round, even though I asked him not to.’ You took Bob’s beers off the tray and set them before him. ‘I got these, though.’
‘Thanks, Y/N.’
Bradley’s eyes were boring holes into Jake’s back. ‘It’s rare for him to do something nice without an ulterior motive.’
‘Well, that’s easy. His ulterior motive is getting in Y/N’s pants.’ Nat growled.
‘Okay,’ you said with a sigh. ‘Let’s change the subject. I’m sick of talking about him already.’
Although Bob didn’t speak as much as everyone else, you felt he noticed more than they did. You could tell he saw right through you. You just hoped he wouldn’t say anything to your best friend.
You felt truly alive, as if the electrical current surrounding The Hard Deck had been injected directly into your veins. Your first meeting with The Dagger Squad had gone incredibly well, and they’d exceeded your expectations tenfold. It had only been one day, and you already felt like you’d made some friends for life. You were beginning to understand why Nat looked so healthy, why she seemed to be glowing from the inside out, the amazing people, the energy of North Island, the beautiful weather. These things separately were better than any multivitamin, but together? You felt as though you’d drunk some kind of magical elixir that would permit you to live forever.
You wouldn’t mind living forever if you got to stay here permanently.
Was it too soon to be thinking this? Did you care?
Penny had called last orders, but nobody was ready for the night to end. Your exhaustion had worn off long ago, and thankfully, you were experiencing a rather mighty second wind. Somebody had suggested going back to Nat’s for some more drinks. Reuben’s place was the biggest—a three-bed detached house right on the outskirts of North Island—but nobody wanted to Uber that far, so you settled for Nat’s. Her apartment was the second biggest, spanning two stories. You knew she’d received a considerable inheritance a few years ago, and paired with her Navy money, she was well-off. It helped that her finance-managing skills were impeccable. She’d been the one to help you invest and save money from your first book deal when you’d wanted to blow it all on an expensive trip to New Zealand.
It took two Ubers to get you all to Island Avenue. You carpooled with Nat, Bob, Bradley and Reuben. Mickey pulled the short straw and had to jump in with Jake and Javy. To be fair, they weren’t bad guys; you just knew their type and weren’t accustomed to it.
Back at Nat’s, everyone was assigned a job. You and Nat set about turning all the fairy lights on, putting more chairs out on the generously sized balcony and finding throw blankets for those who got chilly. Bradley was connecting his phone to the Bluetooth speaker and queuing songs since he insisted he had the authority in that particular department. Bob was hovering, suggesting more songs for him to queue, arguing that he had just as much authority as Bradley did since they had similar taste in music. Reuben and Mickey went through Nat’s drinking/board game selection, picking out a few to keep everyone occupied. Dangerously, Javy and Jake had declared themselves bartenders. On the way back, they’d stopped at an off-license and grabbed a wide selection of booze to add to what Nat already had stocked in her kitchen. They’d set themselves up on the kitchen island and were attempting to make homemade cocktails.
You and Nat found a moment of solitude in her room when she was searching for some sweats to give Mickey, who was still in his uniform.
‘So it’s going pretty well, huh?’ She smiled. ‘You like the squad?’
‘Hell yeah, I do, they’re a riot.’
She opened her wardrobe door, smirking knowingly. ‘Who’s your favourite?’
‘Don’t have one.’ You said, a little too quickly.
‘I know you’re lying. Just tell me.’
While she rooted around in her wardrobe, you gave it some thought. You didn’t have a favourite because you liked them for different reasons. Bob was genuine and intelligent, and he understood your writing almost as well as you did. Bradley was vibrant and interesting, and he made you feel safe, as if you could be yourself unapologetically. Same with Mickey and Reuben. You liked the fact that Javy was sure of himself without coming across too cocky (mostly).
And as for Jake. Well, you didn’t have the words to describe how you felt about him.
Nat poked her head out of the walk-wardrobe. ‘Well?’
‘I like them all, Nat. But if I had to choose, it’d be Bob.’
She smiled. ‘I knew it.’
‘Knew what?’
‘You have a thing for Floyd. And he has a thing for you.’
‘Jesus Christ, Natty. No. Not like that.’
She’d finally found sweatpants and a T-shirt that she didn’t mind lending to Mickey. When she came out of the wardrobe, she wore a cunning expression.
‘You wouldn’t date him? I think he’s perfect for you.’
How were you supposed to tell her that the reason you wouldn’t date him was because Jake caused a swarm of butterflies in your stomach? How were you supposed to tell her you were crushing on the only guy from her whole crew she’d warned you off?
There was only one answer to that: you couldn’t.
‘I didn’t come here to date. Why would I start something here that I can’t finish? I’ll be back in New England before the leaves change.’
‘Everything is always so poetic with you. But you’re right,’ she relented. ‘Bobby is someone you have a quick fling with, anyway. He’s too nice, and I don’t think that’s his thing.’
You gestured as if to say, ‘there you go.’
‘Shall we get back out there and see what havoc those two dickheads are wreaking in my kitchen?’
‘Let’s do it.’
It turned out that they were wreaking a lot of havoc. There were open spirit bottles everywhere, and the kitchen island was lined with shots. Not only that, but a selection of cocktails surrounded the bottles. You didn’t know what any of them contained, and honestly, you were scared to ask.
‘Ladies,’ Javy said. ‘What’ll it be?’
‘Something that’s not gonna put me on my ass after two sips?’ You offered.
He looked at the selection of drinks with a pained expression, and you laughed.
‘I’m guessing that’s not on the menu?’
‘Er, no…’
‘Okay, give me something sweet.’
Jake stepped around the island and came right up to you. He was so cocksure that it should have been cringe, but it was just incredibly sexy.
‘Here you go, darlin’.’
Natasha and Javy laughed, but you couldn’t stop looking at him. He was drunk, but there wasn’t a hair out of place. If you hadn’t watched him throw drinks back all night, you would think he was sober.
‘Nice. Does that work on all the girls?’
‘I haven’t tried this one before.’ He winked.
‘I’ll take whatever concoction that has the most vodka in it. No whiskey.’
Your swift change of subject didn’t phase him in the slightest. ‘Anything you want.’
When he handed you a drink and your hands brushed, you had to glance around to see if Nat noticed. Because if she had, she’d have seen you linger for a moment before you turned around and walked away.
After a few particularly vicious rounds of Cards Against Humanity that had you all creasing on the floor, you took yourself off to the bathroom. Bob and Javy were talking about heading home. Bradley and Mickey had called dibs on Nat’s huge, L-shaped sofa for the night, and Reuben was trying to convince Nat to let him top-and-tail in her bed. While they were arguing, you headed inside and up the spiral staircase to use your bathroom without worrying about a drunken aviator trying to get in.
Or at least, that had been your plan.
You reached out to grab the door handle, and someone’s hand closed over your own.
‘Jake?’
You turned around, your back against the closed door, and he moved in front of you, his chest flush against yours.
‘What’re you doing?’ You breathed.
‘You’ve been givin’ me those come-to-bed eyes all night. I assumed that’s where you were headed.’
He leaned in closer, but not so close that you thought he was going to kiss you.
‘I thought you were suspiciously quiet when everyone was talking about sleeping arrangements.’
‘Mhm, so you were thinkin’ the same thing?’
You shook your head, but your smile was a dead giveaway. ‘Even if I wanted you to, you couldn’t spend the night here. Nat would crucify both of us.’
He leaned even closer. You could smell the liquor on his lips now. ‘Who says she has to find out?’
‘I can’t do that to her. It’s disrespectful.’
He regarded you thoughtfully. ‘Come on, Y/N. Take that halo off for one night.’
Bravely, you nudged his nose with yours. When he tried to kiss you, you pulled back. His expression was a mix between hurt and challenged.
‘I’ve been warned to stay away from you, in case I get hurt.’
‘Well, that’s funny,’ he responded, closing the space between you. ‘Because I’ve been warned to stay away from you so I don’t wake up and find my balls missing.’
You laughed. ‘Nat threatened to castrate you?’
‘That she did.’
‘I suggest you go home and sleep in your own bed then.’
His lips were basically touching yours now. ‘You don’t really want that.’
You reached up and put a hand on the back of his neck. The first kiss you shared with Jake Seresin was exactly how you imagined it would be. There was no softness, no easing you into it. One minute, you were talking, the next, you were tasting the whiskey sour he’d just finished. He had both hands on either side of your face and was kissing you more intensely than you’d ever been kissed in your entire life. It was raw passion and desire—you could feel how needy he was.
When he pushed against you, you felt his hard-on through his Levis, and a small whimper escaped your lips. You found yourself grinding against him, hoping for any kind of friction to ease the tightness in your stomach.
When he pulled away, you followed his mouth and kissed him again, but he stopped you soon after.
‘What was that about me going home and sleeping in my own bed?’
You groaned. ‘Don’t make this hard for me.’
‘You’re the one making things hard, sweetheart.’ He smirked.
‘I’m gonna go down first, and you’re gonna follow me a couple minutes later. That way, nobody will be suspicious.’
He shook his head in disbelief, but he was grinning like a fool. ‘You’re seriously not gonna let me stay?’
‘I told you, it’s disrespectful.’
‘So what, then? That’s all I get?’
You flashed him a devilish grin of your own. ‘For now.’
A/N: This is the first part of this series. There shouldn't be more than two or three parts. For some reason, I struggle to write one-shots; it always turns into a series...
#top gun maverick imagines#top gun#top gun maverick#jake seresin#hangman#jake seresin x reader#hangman x reader#maverick#pete mitchell#rooster#bradley bradshaw#robert floyd#natasha trace#phoenix#fanboy#javy machado#mickey garcia#coyote#payback#reuben fitch
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Aim for the Sky Part 19 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: More friends meet Rose, and your parents fly home, leaving the three of you to figure things out together. Bradley is struggling with the six week rule, deeming it unfair that you look so good while he can't have you the way he wants to.
Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, lactation kink, messing around, oral sex, DILF Roo
Length: 4100 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.
By your parents' last evening in San Diego, Bradley had put them in touch with the realtor he used to buy the Craftsman. They spent hours walking around Coronado with Rose in her stroller all week, looking at houses and getting more ideas. And then they delayed their flight home two times. The fact that they didn't seem to want to leave their grandchild was heartwarming, and now they were seriously talking about moving.
"By the end of the year, we are moving" your mom said, burping Rose in the living room. "I just can't stand the idea of waiting until July to see her again. Makes me want to cry."
It was April now, and they promised to come back for a visit around Independence Day. Bradley already had plans circling in his mind about where he could take you for a few days alone, because things were about to get a lot tougher without your parents around. The two of you were going to need a little vacation to look forward to. And if he could get you alone, he could get his hands all over you as much as the two of you wanted.
"So, are we going back to Mexico or Hawaii in July?" Bradley asked later that night while he watched you get undressed before bed. Your tits looked incredible, nipples huge and pert as you removed your nursing bra.
He forgot what he had even asked you as you ran your fingertips along your breasts and scoffed at him. "Neither, Roo. We have to get serious about saving money for Rose to go to college in just eighteen years." When you pulled your shorts down, he could see your rooster tattoo, and now he really couldn't think.
Bradley grunted. "She'll get a full ride to school. She takes after you. She's already a genius. Whenever I call Tramp, she points right at the dog."
You sighed and smiled at him. "I think you're being optimistic." Your hands were back on your tits, and he immediately reached for his cock, your eyes tracking his every move. "Bradley."
"What?" he rasped, thinking about last week in the backseat of the Bronco. That was the last time the two of you really messed around, and he could tell there were moments when you were uncomfortable in your own skin. But he hadn't stopped wanting you for a single moment. "How do you expect me to watch you strutting around the bedroom completely naked and not get hard?"
You turned toward the bathroom for a few seconds and muttered, "I look weird."
"You look beautiful." When you finally met his gaze, he said, "I love you too much to lie to you, Sweetheart."
He was plainly hard in his boxer briefs with his hand resting on his thigh. He'd never try to pressure you to do anything physical if you didn't want to, but there was no way he was going to let you think you suddenly turned him on less than before.
You dragged your fingers across your breasts again, and Bradley groaned before you tangled your fingers in your necklace chain. You looked a bit bashful, and even that was fucking him up.
His voice was raspy, and his throat was dry as he sat up and asked, "Do you want me to show you?"
You shrugged and looked at him out of the corner of your eye. "Only if you want to."
He was up off the bed in an instant, grabbing you as gently as he could. "Roo," you gasped in surprise as he carried you back to the bed.
You were completely naked, head on his pillow, leg hitched around his hip, and Bradley kissed you so hard, you were moaning. "If you leave the decision up to me, I'm always going to want to show you how I feel about you," he said, voice deep and needy. His fingers grazed along your body, lower and lower until he touched your clit, and you arched off the bed.
"Fuck," you moaned, voice breaking.
"You're so fucking hot," he whispered, running just his index finger through your pussy. You were soaking wet. "You're killing me, Baby Girl." He traced your tattoo, decorating your skin with your wetness while you looked up at him with parted lips and half lidded eyes. You watched him bring his finger up to his lips, and with one swipe of his tongue, he was moaning, too. "Six weeks is a long time when you look this pretty and taste this sweet."
Your teeth sank into your lip before you murmured, "You're killing me, too." Then your fingers were tangled in his hair, and he eased his body down so he was resting against the warmth of your core. It was so close to what he wanted right now, but he knew he couldn't go all the way there. The frustration building inside him was almost pleasurable as you gasped his name as he sucked on your neck.
Nails pressing into his scalp, you didn't stop him when he pulled himself free from his boxer briefs and ran his cock through your pussy. "Jesus Christ," he hissed, guiding his hips away from your body as you pushed him off of you. But instead of telling him to stop, you rolled him onto his back and yanked his underwear down his legs.
His cock was in between your lips before he knew what was going on, and he saw stars as you sucked on him. "Fuck, Sweetheart. Oh, god."
You pulled him free and shook your head. "If you can't be quiet, then I can't give you a blowjob. My parents are out in the living room."
"Please, stop talking about your parents and just give me head," he begged, already panting as you smirked at him. His balls were already tight as you licked your lips and parted them once more for him. Your tits looked irresistible as you knelt between his spread legs, and he would be lucky to last a full minute with this kind of treatment. "I was supposed to be the one showing you how much I want you," he whispered, trying not to thrust up into your mouth.
You responded by taking him deeper until he was grabbing at the bedding to hold back his orgasm. This time when you pulled him free, your saliva dripped onto his thigh. "Just take what I can give you right now."
Two pumps of your fist, and you were sucking on him until he came long and hard, fist in his mouth to make sure he was quiet. You swallowed down his cum and licked him clean as he stared at the ceiling in a daze. "You give me everything."
------------------------------
You fell asleep with a smile on your lips after your husband took his time with you, rubbing your clit with practiced fingers and whispering the dirtiest things about how good he was going to fuck you in another few weeks. As it turns out, you also needed to be reminded to be as quiet as possible, especially when he was a whining mess over your breasts.
Even though you knew Rose would have you up in a few more hours, you let yourself drift off to the sound of Bradley's heavy breathing and the warmth of his body. Whenever you started to feel bad about the way you looked, he seemed to be able to lure you back on track. He didn't mind your weird body one bit, and in fact, he was literally counting down the days until you and he could have intercourse. And you wanted it, too.
You barely heard your daughter when she started crying to eat around midnight, because your mom was in the nursery with her so quickly, it was ridiculous. When you padded down the hallway, still half asleep, you could hear her singing to her granddaughter.
"I got her," you murmured when you walked into the room, and you realized your mom was crying. "Are you okay?"
She kissed Rose's head and whispered, "Of course. I just don't want to be so far away from the three of you. Rose is exactly the way you were as a newborn; a sweet little snuggle bug who turns into a bit of a terror when she's hungry. I can't get enough of her."
You laughed as you sat down in the glider, and she handed your daughter to you once you were ready to feed her. Rose curled up against your body, clearly very hungry. "She is honestly so sweet."
"I love her so much," your mom whispered. "Are you going to be okay when we leave in a few hours?"
You stared at the night light in the corner of the room, surrounded by darkness otherwise. The exhaustion you felt since Rose was born started to get better while they were here, and you knew for a fact that things would start to get harder again soon. "Yeah. We'll be okay. Bradley and I will take some vacation time in July when you come back to stay with her." You met your mom's eyes where she stood. "You and dad are really good at this."
"I'm happy you think so," she said softly. "Retirement is looking better by the minute."
She sounded like she was about to cry again, so you politely kicked her out of the nursery before she could start. She needed to get some rest before their flight home, and you needed to get used to doing this on your own again. You almost craved the routine of going back to work. You missed seeing Cat every day, and you even missed your boss. Rose would be old enough for the daycare pretty soon, and you could sneak over on your lunch breaks to check on her.
But at the same time, the idea of someone else taking care of her for eight hours a day had you almost panicking. "Why are you like this?" you whispered to yourself. You could barely control your emotions at times right now.
"My girls okay?"
Just hearing Bradley's voice made you relax, and you realized Rose was starting to slow down as you turned to look at him in the doorway. "Yeah. I was trying to let you sleep."
He gave you grabby hands, and you noticed he had the Nugget notebook tucked under his arm. "Let me burp her and read a bedtime story so you can go back to sleep."
You knew he had to drop your parents off at the airport in a few hours and then turn around and go right to work, but he wasn't going to be deterred. He took Rose and settled down on the floor with a grunt, kissing her head as she yawned. With the night light shining next to him, he juggled her and opened the notebook, and you stood in the doorway and listened for a few minutes as he read one of his entries to her.
"You'll never guess where I am right now. No really. It would be impossible, because even I don't really know where I am! But it's somewhere in the Pacific Ocean, I know that for sure. And while I'm really, really far away from you and your mom right now, the two of you are all I can think about."
--------------------------------
Bradley was standing in the living room wearing Rose in her carrier and holding two massive bags filled with gear. "Is this all really necessary?" he asked as you ran around grabbing more stuff.
"Do you think we should drive?" you asked, popping the stroller open and looking at it with concern.
"Sweetheart, the beach is like three blocks away," he replied, trying to keep his tone even.
"The beach with a lot of rocks is like three blocks away," you said, exasperation lacing your voice. "Do you think we should drive up to the better beach?"
In his opinion, all of the beaches in Coronado were going to be the same, as long as the two of you didn't attempt to walk down the cliffs beach with her yet. "I think we should just go to the closest beach for a little bit and then head home again."
You sighed in annoyance. "Just for a little bit? Well then what was the point of packing all of this shit?"
Bradley desperately wanted to scold you for swearing in front of the baby, but he used every fiber of his being to press his lips together and clear his throat. "It's the Nugget's first time at any beach. We're just going to have to see how long she lasts before we need to bring her back."
"Fine," you replied, picking up the bag of sandwiches you packed and heading for the front door. "I just wish I knew why babies required so much stuff. Nothing about this is easy."
He followed in your wake. "I'm pretty sure all the babies of the world got together and plotted against their parents, because all of it is hard." At least that got a smile out of you as you plunked your sunglasses onto your nose, and he followed you out to the porch. "Let's just leave the stoller here. I like carrying her."
It was actually so beautiful outside, Bradley was thankful it was a Saturday. You took his hand in yours, waving at the neighbors along the way. "You look stupid sexy with that baby carrier on, Roo."
"Stupid sexy?" he muttered, adjusting the little sun hat on Rose's head. "Explain."
"I tried," you groaned. "But you don't listen, Bradley. You're a DILF. Even the way you're taking care of Rose is hot. Like you're already handsome, but now you're just oozing so much sex appeal, it's stupid. Like an ovary explosion." You made a sound like a bomb blowing up and gestured with your hands in front of you as you walked.
"Yeah... I don't see it," he murmured, reaching for your hand again. When he looked in the mirror now, he saw more gray hair and quite a few wrinkles, but that didn't stop him from trying to be the best dad he could. "I'm just focused on Rosie. You and Rosie. My girls."
You gave him side eye. "That's what makes it stupid," you muttered. "You know what, it doesn't matter." You kissed Rose's fingers as the entrance to the beach came into view. "Hey, little Nugget," you whispered as her eyes fluttered open. "Welcome to the beach."
The expanse of sand and the glittering water beyond were so bright, Bradley shielded her face, and she burrowed against him. "It's okay, Rosie," he murmured, kissing her hat as he hustled along the mostly empty beach. "Daddy's got you. I'll get you set up with some shade. I like the shade better, too."
It was a joint effort, the way you held the baby while Bradley ran around, setting up a canopy and laying out blankets and towels. "You're stupid sexy, too," he said as you distracted him for about the tenth time. "You know that, right?" You didn't verbally respond, but you did look pleased with yourself as you set Rose down on the beach blanket, fully in the shade.
"Do you want to take her down to the water?" you asked, looking up at him.
He shot you an incredulous look as he took his shirt off. "Are you out of your mind? The waves are massive! Something could happen to her!"
Now you were doubled over in laughter on the blanket next to her. "It's not like I suggested that you take her surfing, Roo! Just carry her down to the water's edge!"
He was still hesitant. "Okay. But just for a quick look." Bradley scooped up his daughter, who always looked delighted to have him around, and he carried her slowly down the beach until the cool water met his toes. "This is as far as we go," he whispered, kissing her cheek as she closed her eyes. "Until you've had swimming lessons." He felt your hand on his back, and he turned to you and asked, "When can Rosie take swim lessons?"
"Bradley, she's less than a month old."
"That's probably when future olympians start," he mused as you rubbed sunblock all over his back and shoulders. You were standing in front of him now, laughing and swiping the lotion on his nose when an older woman stopped walking along the beach to approach you.
"You have a beautiful family," she said, smiling at Rose who was currently yawning.
"Thank you," Bradley replied, turning a bit so she could get a closer look. When she offered to take a photo of the three of you, he had you reach into the pocket of his cutoff jean shorts and unlock his phone for her.
Bradley looked ridiculous in the picture with windswept hair and streaks of sunblock on his face and shoulders, but you and Rose both made it his new favorite photo. He set it as his phone wallpaper.
---------------------------
"Am I doing this right?"
Cam was sitting on your living room couch, holding Rose with a look of sheer panic on his face.
"No," Maria told him. "You're not. And you look constipated."
You started laughing and didn't even try to hide it. "Just hold her against your chest, and she'll probably fall asleep. She's definitely a snuggler."
He did as he was told, but there was still a firm crease along his forehead. "Babies are terrifying," he muttered, letting you adjust his hands for him.
Bradley was still at work, having agreed to teach another dog fighting drill with Maverick, and you were thankful your friends were keeping you company. It wouldn't be too much longer before you were back at work yourself, where you would be able to see your friends more frequently.
You watched Maria stand and kind of limp into your kitchen. "Does anyone else want a drink?"
"Absolutely not," Cam replied. "I need to keep two hands on the baby at all times."
He got an eye roll in response from you as you told Maria, "Sure, and I also need you to tell me why you're limping. Are you okay?"
A devilish smirk found her lips. "Maybe you should ask Bob about that one."
"Ew," Cam replied. "Unless I'm the one getting plowed by an aviator, I don't need to know any details." When you opened your mouth to say something, he quickly added, "You're just as bad as Maria, so don't even start with me. Just let me be afraid of holding your child in peace."
Then he settled back against the couch with Rose, and you joined Maria in the kitchen. "You're like seriously limping," you whispered, and she snickered.
"It's not what you think. I just can't resist giving Cam a hard time. Bob and I were in the shower together, and I pulled a muscle."
"Maria," you hissed. "You were in the shower with Bob, and you expect me to believe it wasn't sexual?"
"I wasn't," she insisted, getting two glasses of water ready and handing you one. "I just... ever since he got back from his deployment... I really like being around him as much as possible."
You knew how Bob looked at her. Like she was a mermaid. Or a fairy. Something magical and unbelievable. Maria wasn't known to be gushy or sappy, but she talked about him like he hung the moon, and that was all you needed to know.
"I'm happy for you."
She smiled just as you heard Cam gasp and start freaking out. "I think the baby pooped! Cancel that- I know the baby pooped! I need backup!"
By the time Bradley got home from work, you had dinner in the oven, and you were nursing Rose on the couch. Your husband looked exhausted but freshly showered with damp hair, and he made a beeline directly for you. He kissed your forehead and then her tiny fist.
"You alright, Roo?"
"I had a long day," he whispered. You were a little worried that something happened that made him seem so tired, but he smiled as he said, "But your appointment with Dr. Morris later this week is going to make it all worth it. I can't wait to hear her tell me I'm allowed to fuck my wife."
"You're so horny!" you complained half heartedly as he kissed your cheek before heading into the kitchen to take dinner out of the oven as the timer went off.
"Six weeks is a long time when you've got your tits out all day and all night."
Truthfully, there were times when you were positively aching to be with him like that, but there were moments when you couldn't understand how he still wanted you. Your stretch marks were wild, and you looked so flabby and weird. You had no idea how you'd manage to lose the weight you gained when your whole world revolved around pumping and feeding Rose, and on top of that, you'd be back at work soon and busier than ever.
You heard Bradley's groan of delight from the kitchen as he took a bite of dinner. "This is delicious, but still not as delectable as you, Baby Girl."
Even when your brain told you not to believe him, your heart did.
----------------------------
Bradley insisted on accompanying you to your six week checkup with Dr. Morris. He sat in one of the chairs in the exam room with Rose all wrapped up like a burrito in his arms, careful not to get her perfect face too close to his hard insignia pins. He watched as you got a pelvic exam, and then the doctor pushed on your belly while you made a face of discomfort. He held Rose a little tighter when you tried to smile at him.
"Everything feels and looks good. You can head back to work next week," Dr. Morris said as she removed her latex gloves. "Do you have any questions for me?"
Bradley listened to you rattle off several questions which rolled into a fresh conversation with your doctor. He really didn't want to be the one to ask about intercourse, but now you were sort of smirking at him. Okay, you were treating this like a game, toying with him. He was absolutely down for that, and it wasn't like he hadn't completely embarrassed himself in front of your physician before.
"If neither of you have any other questions, you're free to go-"
"Actually, Dr. Morris, I do have one last question." He cleared his throat and stood with Rose while you started to get dressed, trying to hide your smile from him. "I'd really like to have sex with my wife as soon as possible. Is that six weeks postpartum rule hard-and-fast, or would tonight be suitable for that kind of thing?"
You were hiding your smile behind your hand, but he could tell you were laughing as Dr. Morris humored him. "Well, the guidelines say six weeks, so I would absolutely stick to that. We like to make sure proper healing has occurred. If you don't start taking oral contraceptives right away, I would definitely advise you to use condoms." She glanced at your chart and added, "Two more days probably won't kill anyone, and at that point, you'll be at six weeks."
"Speak for yourself," he grunted, slipping Rose back into her car seat carrier. "Thanks, doc."
"Two more days," you told him as the three of you walked out to the red Bronco. "You're doing great, Daddy."
Bradley groaned as he buckled both of you in, and he pulled out of the parking lot without another word.
You shouldn't have been surprised, but you definitely were when, two nights later, his phone alarm started blaring at one in the morning. You were just settling back in bed after feeding Rose when you looked at him with wide eyes. "Wait, did we forget to do something?" you asked. "What's the alarm for?"
Bradley simply held up his phone screen for you to see the alarm which was titled My wife is exactly 6 weeks postpartum.
You rolled onto your side, cackling with laughter. "It's not funny, Baby Girl. I've been waiting for this moment for a long time." He snuggled under the covers and said, "I'm ready to get my world rocked whenever you feel like rocking it, so you just let me know."
His eyes were closed when he felt your lips ghost along his cheek on their way to kiss him. "Why not right now?"
----------------------------------
Let this man fuck! Let him fuck his wife! He earned it. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 20
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