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#rooster angst
Note
Can u please do smut or fluff of this with rooster or hangman:
Y/n: hey can you zip me up?
R or H: Sure!
...
Y/n: I said zip me up not down
Ooh thank you for this sweet request, I had so much fun with this one!!
The Zipper Incident
Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Fem!Reader
Summary: You're running late and need some help zipping up your dress. After recovering from the initial shock of seeing you all dolled up, Rooster is more than happy to assist.
CW: Fluff, angst, swearing, a pinch of smut. You stand up your date, which is shitty of you, but it's probably worth it.
I’d like to think that this little drabble could be a prelude to this fic but it’s absolutely not a necessity to read it first. I just had this particular dynamic in mind while writing this.
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You rush out of the locker room in a panic, whipping your head around to see if anyone is still around. Your date is imminent – t-minus twenty minutes and counting – and you’ve spent the last forty-five on your hair and makeup only to suffer a devastating wardrobe malfunction at zero hour.
You’re sure that everyone is long gone but you nonetheless shuffle over to the guys’ locker room on the off chance that perhaps somebody might still be in the building.
Just as you’re coming up on the door, Bradley walks out and you nearly collide with him in your haste.
“Woah!” he yells, holding his arms out in case you wouldn’t be able to stop in time.
“Oh my god, Rooster! Thank god!” you shriek.
Now that he’s had a moment to process the situation, Bradley is blinking at you oddly, his eyes slipping briefly to glance at your dress before reverting to your face.
While you’re flattered that your outfit has rendered him speechless – the guy’s never seen you in anything but a uniform – you hardly have time for this kind of delay. “Rooster, can you do me a favor, please? Can you zip me up?” You turn your back to him promptly and twist your arm behind you to point to the zipper that’s gotten stuck halfway up.
“Uh.” Bradley stalls and you look over your shoulder to see his gaze trailing down your bare back as he tentatively lifts his hands.
“Bradshaw, today!” you urge, bouncing slightly on the spot while you hold up the front of your strapless dress.
You feel his fingers graze your back as he pulls gently on the zipper. “It’s jammed,” he says a little hoarsely.
You let out an exasperated sigh. “No shit,” you reply. “Look, I’ve got a date in” – you close your eyes and whimper desperately – “fifteen minutes. Could you maybe put those big, strong muscles to good use?” You throw him a deriding look before glancing pointedly at the arm that's taking up approximately half of your field of view. His bicep is even more pronounced than usual in the tight, black t-shirt he’s wearing.
Rooster exhales slowly, tugging more deliberately on the zipper. “I don’t want to break it,” he says.
This statement gives you pause and you spin around sharply, nearly taking Bradley’s hands with you. “You can’t break it!” you exclaim. “I have nothing else to wear!”
Bradley watches you steadily. “Well,” he says with a small smirk. “Don’t rush me, then.”
You eye him warily before turning back around. “Okay,” you say. “But you don’t have all day,” you mutter when he starts to fiddle with the zipper once more.
His hands stop moving and he clears his throat. “We had a deal.”
You sigh, starting to tap your foot, when your feel his hands close around your shoulders.
“You’re wiggling,” he says.
“I’m anxious,” you retort sourly.
Bradley steps closer until his chest is brushing lightly against your back, and leads you out into the center of the corridor. “I need more light,” he says.
You close your eyes. “It’s a fucking zipper, Bradshaw. You operate a fifteen tonne, seventy-million-dollar government vehicle fifty thousand feet off the ground but this is somehow a struggle?”
Bradley’s hands stop moving. “That fifteen tonne vehicle came with an instruction manual and five years of training.”
“Oh, hang on,” you say. “Let me just pull out my zipper manual. I don’t go anywhere without that thing.”
Bradley snorts. “You’re distracting me,” he says, yanking slightly on the zipper and, in the process, pulling you closer.
You hang your head defeatedly, trying to stay still while he works to fix your dress.
After several moments of silence, Bradley speaks again. “You have a date, huh?”
You stare at the space where the floor meets the wall, taken aback by his question. You and Bradley have but a smidge of history; you met a few months ago when you were brought in for a mission together, and have since been assigned to the same squadron. You’ve flirted here and there, exchanged a few meaningful glances, but nothing more than the occasional tease has ever come to pass. You’re both professionals and, as such, are amply aware that any sort of romantic entanglement would quickly dissolve into a logistical nightmare fraught with more paperwork than either of you would care to complete. And yet, the insinuation in his tone, paired with the intermittent brush of his hands along your back sends a quiet thrill through your body, resulting in a soft blush that heats your cheeks and creeps down your neck. You nervously pat down your hair, making sure it obscures your reddening face before you respond with a casual, “Mm-hm.”
“Anyone I know?” he asks, his thumb sweeping over your shoulder blade as he takes a break from wrestling with the zipper.
Suddenly you’re extremely aware of how short your dress is and how very loosely it hangs around your sides as you clutch it to your chest. “I doubt it,” you say quickly, wondering how you hadn’t noticed the obvious draft coming from the vent overhead until right now while firmly pressing the material of your dress against your rapidly hardening nipples.
“Well, you look nice,” he says, his voice a little rough as he resumes his efforts with the zipper.
You bite down hard on your lip, trying to suppress the shiver triggered by his words. “Would be nicer if I were fully dressed,” you respond flatly.
“Debatable,” Rooster counters.
You swallow uneasily as Bradley continues jerking at your dress. He’s flirting with you now? Ten minutes till go time? After weeks of avoiding every instance of physical contact, including that time you sprained your ankle and he called Phoenix over to help you get to medical instead of taking you himself?
Suddenly, you feel the waist of your dress release as the zipper gives. You gasp, pressing the fabric against your body as it starts to glide.
“Bradshaw!” you yelp. “I said ‘zip me up!’”
“Sorry!” Bradley fumbles with the dress. “It slipped.”
“Sure,” you say with a note of cynicism in your tone.
Bradley chuckles, sliding the zipper back up. “I promise, it was unintentional.” He pauses for a moment, his fingers still holding the clasp even after having completed the task you’ve given him. He runs his palms along your shoulders before they come to rest on your upper arms. “You’ve got a nice back,” he says quietly.
You freeze, trying to come up with an adequate response to the most unexpected of compliments, but you can’t bring yourself to face him because you’re blushing anew. You take a second to gather your thoughts, close your eyes to savour the moment. You’ve completely forgotten about the time and how much of it you might have left because all your concentration is devoted entirely to the gentle sweep of Bradley’s fingers as they slide down your arms.
“First date?” he asks.
You’re furious. You’re livid. Where was all this attention four weeks ago when all that glorious flirting amounted to absolutely nothing. “Second,” you respond curtly.
“Getting serious,” he says wryly, his hands trailing all the way down to your fingertips before they finally fall to his sides.
You chuckle and, although it’s becoming increasingly difficult to restrain yourself from turning to face him, you mutter a quick, “Thanks, Rooster,” while smoothing out the wrinkles on the front of your dress.
Bradley walks around to take a look at you from the front and now you have no choice but to meet his gaze. You give him a tight smile and do a little curtsy and he laughs, shaking his head.
“That’s a hell of a dress,” he says.
You give him a serious look. “It’s not the dress, Bradshaw. It’s the model.”
He grins at you in amusement. “Can’t argue with that.”
You nod slowly, slightly lost in his eyes, when you suddenly remember that you’re running late. “Shit! What’s the time?” You lunge forward to grab his forearm so that you could check his wristwatch. “Fuck! I have to run!”
You drop Bradley’s hand, glancing up at him sharply. He’s watching you with a bewildered expression, as though he wasn’t expecting you to actually leave. “Okay,” he says. “Have a good time.”
You nod and start to draw back, finally turning and escaping down the hall and into the women’s changeroom. Once the door is closed behind you, you sink down on a bench, bringing a hand to your unsettled stomach. The interaction with Bradley has resulted in a revival of that ridiculous crush you had on him when you first arrived on base. You’ve been fairly successful at quashing those feelings, right up until ten minutes ago when Bradley was able to effectively resuscitate them with a vengeance.
You let out a frustrated sigh and start putting away your belongings. You step into your heels and sit back down to do up the straps. Walking over to the mirror, you fix your hair and take a moment to admire your makeup. No wonder Bradley was flabbergasted. He’s never even seen you wear lipstick.
You pick up your purse after shoving your backpack into a locker and head for the door but, when you walk out, Bradley is still there, waiting for you.
You waver on the spot upon seeing him while he hesitates slightly before approaching you. His eyes rake over your figure before finally resting on your face. “I can’t let you go on that date,” he says, his rasp more pronounced somehow, perhaps because he’s trying to keep his voice down.
You gulp nervously, blinking up at him as your cheeks flush. “Why not?” you ask quietly.
Bradley bites into his bottom lip as the corner of his mouth curls upward mischievously. “Because even thinking about you on a date with someone else is making me angry.”
You let out a shallow breath as his eyes focus briefly on your lips. “Why?” you whisper.
You feel Bradley’s hand cup your waist, pressing you gently into the wall at your back while he takes another step forward. He lowers his head and you lift your gaze as he towers over you, as he places the palm of his other hand on the wall behind your head. His breathing is heavier than usual but he comes closer still, caging you in. “Because it should be me,” he says hoarsely.
You lower your gaze but soon feel his fingers under your chin, lifting your face to look at him. “You didn’t ask me,” you manage to say despite the distracting pounding in your temples. “Are you only interested because I’m unavailable?”
Bradley slowly shakes his head, bringing his forehead to rest on yours. The hand that’s been leaning against the wall slips down to your shoulder as he takes another step closer and his body brushes yours. “You know that’s not true,” he says.
You put a hand on his abdomen, pushing him away half-heartedly. “I know that you’ve had plenty of opportunities to make this happen and chose not to.”
Bradley brings his hand down on top of yours on his stomach. “Maybe I was intimidated,” he mutters with a grin.
You roll your eyes. “Am I less intimidating in a dress?”
He shakes his head, his smile widening. “More.” His fingers close around yours, still pressed against his rock-hard abs. “But you left me no choice. I had to just bite the bullet and go for it.”
You glance up at him reproachfully. “I’m late,” you say.
Bradley pulls his lips into a frown as his eyebrows crease. “Stay,” he pleads.
You scoff, shaking your head. “I’m sorry, Bradley,” you say. “You’re late too.” You start to peel your back from the wall, forcing him to back away from you.
He takes several steps backward, the disappointment evident on his face. “You don’t want to go,” he says quietly.
You raise your eyebrows. “How the fuck do you know what I want?” you ask, offended.
He watches you piercingly. “I can tell you want to stay.”
“If you can tell, then why didn’t you ask me out before?” you say angrily.
“Because I’m an idiot!” he responds heatedly.
“Well, at least we agree on that,” you say.
Bradley sucks in his cheeks, nodding contemptuously. “Now what?” he asks. “Ball’s in your court.”
You stare at him crossly. “Now nothing, Bradley,” you say. “You didn’t start anything because you knew that it would be a conflict of interest. That, if anybody found out, one of us would end up being reassigned.”
“Who has to find out?”
You close your eyes briefly before giving him a withering look. “Well, now we know where your head’s at.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You just want to fuck,” you say matter-of-factly.
Bradley stares at you, speechless for a moment. “What are you talking about?”
“Sorry, Bradshaw,” you say. “That’s not my style.”
But when you turn to leave, Bradley springs after you, grabbing your arm and pulling you back around. “You’ve got it wrong,” he says. “I promise you.”
You eye his fingers, still wrapped firmly around your arm. “Come on, ‘Nobody has to know?’” You glance up at him disdainfully. “You obviously don’t see a future here.” You regret the words the moment they leave your mouth, recognizing how unreasonable it is to expect him to see much of anything with someone he hardly knows. But his words have caused quite a sting which, in turn, has made you slightly irrational. “You know this is a bad idea,” you say finally, reluctantly.
Bradley takes a step forward, simultaneously pulling you closer. He takes a moment to study your features before speaking. “I know that if you go on your date right now, I’m going to lose my fucking mind,” he says with a small chuckle.
You watch him carefully as he brings a hand up to brush some hair away from your eyes. “I’m really late,” you whisper, your hands moving of their own accord to rest on his hips.
Bradley brings his face down to meet yours, his nose brushing along your cheek. “I really want you to stay,” he says in a low voice, his grip loosening on your arm and his fingers gliding gently up to your shoulder.
You lift your face slightly to let him brush his lips with yours. After an excruciating pause during which his mouth hovers tantalisingly over yours, Bradley finally bridges the gap, confidently capturing your lips in his. His fingertips dig into your shoulders as he presses his body against yours, directing you backward into the wall. He leans into you eagerly, his kiss overriding each of your senses as you adapt to its unpredictable rhythm. Slow and deep, then soft and sweeping, evolving with your every movement. His hands twist rabidly into your hair, rough but restrained as he paces himself while you breathe unevenly against his mouth.
He's warm; swathed around you almost possessively; protectively. You aren’t going anywhere anytime soon. You pant when he finally releases your lips, struggling to steady your heartrate.
Bradley lowers himself slightly to diffuse kisses along your jawline, the pressure of his lips on your skin quickly escalating as the two of you sink into one another. You open your mouth to sigh against his ear when his hand slips underneath the hem of your dress. “Bradley,” you whine as his finger drifts along the line of your panties.
“Yeah baby?” he breathes, his finger tracing circles into the already saturated lace.
“This is a terrible idea,” you whimper as the most torturous desire pulsates through your body.
“Yeah, baby,” Bradley agrees, continuing the gentle strokes of his finger over your soaking panties.
You bite your lip trying to suppress a moan, fevered and nearly shaking, sweating and breathless, unsteady in your heels. You feel transported but unsettled, euphoric but wanting. You nip at Bradley’s earlobe in response to which Bradley presses his mouth into the crook of your neck and releases a muffled groan. You continue sucking on his ear and kissing his neck and the hand that’s been hovering between your legs suddenly grips into your thigh. You let out a soft cry and Bradley stifles it with a passionate kiss. His hand coasts upward, cupping your ass cheek as he presses himself against you, pinning you to the wall. “Bradshaw,” you murmur against his lips. “Can you do me a favor?”
Bradley’s teeth catch your bottom lip before he starts gently pecking your swollen lips. “Anything,” he responds in his grating rasp.
You let out a shallow breath. “Can you unzip me?”
Bradley’s mouth curls into a smile against your lips as his hand glides down your back. “I’ve got you, baby,” he says softly, pulling on the zipper. “I’m an expert.” You chuckle as your dress comes loose but, a moment later, Bradley mutters, “Fuck,” right into your open mouth.
You pull back to stare at him mutely as he gives the zipper a few more tugs. “Don’t tell me,” you say in disbelief.
“What is it with this thing?” Bradley says in exasperation, spinning you around to inspect the contraption. You giggle, resting your forehead on the wall resignedly but, the next moment, Bradley grabs you by the waist and pulls you in. “Fuck it,” he says, lifting the skirt of your dress. “I can work around it.”
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jupitercomet · 1 year
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The Starry Night
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summary - You’re not enough for him because of something you can’t even control. And if he truly felt that way, you wish he would have never started anything with you in the first place.
“Fuck you, Bradley.” You seethe, turning to the bedroom with a finality. Your hand wraps around the door knob before you stop yourself. “You know, for a guy who hates making mistakes he has to apologize for, you’re really fucking good at it.”
or
Bradley’s always been good at saying things he doesn’t mean, and maybe this one he can’t take back.
warnings - age gap relationship (Bradley is 38, reader is 25), language, angst, references to mental illness, listen the lock thing is a bit of a stretch but plot > realism
word count - 3.5k
part two   i ain’t worried ‘bout it masterlist
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“Would you stop?” Bradley follows you out of the Bronco as you slam the passenger door “You’re being—” He cuts himself off and you whirl around.
“What? I’m being what, Bradley?” You spit the words out like venom. “Please, enlighten me.”
Bradley kisses his teeth with his tongue. “You’re being childish.”
Even though you knew the words were coming, it takes a second for them to hit and you laugh hollowly. “Right.” Tears prick at your waterline. “I’m being childish because I’m upset my boyfriend ignored me the entire night.”
“Oh, is that what you call slamming car doors and throwing a tantrum? Being ‘upset’?”
You purse your lips trying to hold back the angry tears that are threatening to spill down your cheeks as you open the front door. You don’t really want to hash all of this out in front of Bradley’s neighbors—the last thing you need is to make tonight more embarrassing.
Bradley scoffs. “What? Are you ignoring me now?” He follows you into the house, shutting and locking the door behind him as you rip your sandals off.
Whipping around again, you fully intend to bite his head off, but you stop yourself, taking a deep breath. “I don’t think I can be around you right now. Because I know I’m going to say something I don’t mean and I don’t want to do that. We should talk about this when we’ve both calmed down.”
With that, you walk out of the foyer and turn with every intention of get out of your sundress and take a long, destressing shower—
“That’s fucking bullshit.” Bradley’s words have you freezing in the hallway. “I’m so sick of you doing this whole thing where you act like you’re better than me.”
You look at him incredulously. “How am I acting like I’m better than you?”
“Because you’re so smart and you never get mad, right? You’re too good to fight with me, and I’m always the one who makes mistakes and gets angry and has to apologize!”
“Are you seriously mad at me for being a healthy communicator?” Your eyebrows jump in disbelief.
“You’re not!” Bradley’s voice has finally risen to a shout. “You’re not a healthy communicator, you run away from confrontation. Deciding that we’ll just never fight isn’t being a healthy communicator.”
You don’t understand how Bradley can misconstrued your intentions so much, but the heat of the setting San Diego sun and the embarrassment and hurt radiating off of you makes you more desperate than proactive. “I am not running away! I just know that we’re both angry right now and that isn’t going to solve anything. I don’t want one of us to say something we can’t take back.”
“You’re the one who started this in the first place! You can’t just accuse me of shit and then leave.”
“You know what? Fine. If you wanna fight, we can fight. You ignored me the entire night, Bradley! To talk to your ex-girlfriend. In what capacity do you think that’s appropriate?” You take a step towards him, your bare feet planting on the hardwood. 
Bradley scoffs. “I did not ignore you. And last time I checked, you can’t dictate who I talk to. She came up to me and said hi, do you really expect me to just pretend she isn’t there?”
“No, but I expect you to try and bring me into the conversation, or notice when I leave, or not let her be all over you,” you list on your fingers accusingly. “You didn’t even fucking introduce me as your girlfriend! And I just had to sit there the whole time feeling like you were ashamed to be seen with me.”
“Oh, come on—”
You narrow your eyes. “I wasn’t finished, Bradley. You made me feel like you didn’t want your ex-girlfriend to know that you’re now with a woman a decade younger than you! That it’s embarrassing to move on from someone like her to someone like me—”
“Well, when you act like this, it is!” Bradley’s mouth closes as soon as he tastes the words on his tongue but it’s too late, they’ve already been said.
They hang in the air and you honestly don’t think Bradley could have said something more hurtful to you if he tried. You feel pathetic in the salmon colored sundress you’d been so excited to wear to Bradley’s high school reunion—the dress he’d been so excited to see you in just a handful of hours prior—like a little girl playing dress up. 
Bradley’s embarrassed of you. Enough so that he let you stand there, all by yourself, as fellow members of his graduating class made disgusting jokes about how “you must be lost, sweetheart, the school’s closed for current students” that you had to laugh along at uncomfortably, while he let some woman hang off his arm because she looks better there than you do. You’re not enough for him because of something you can’t even control. And if he truly felt that way, you wish he would have never started anything with you in the first place.
“Fuck you, Bradley.” You seethe, turning to the bedroom with a finality. Your hand wraps around the door knob before you stop yourself. “You know, for a guy who hates making mistakes he has to apologize for, you’re really fucking good at it.” For the second time that night, you slam the door closed behind you.
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You cry for a good hour and a half, rolled over on Bradley’s side of the bed, his pillow held to your chest as you curl up on your side. The bedroom door is locked and Bradley has made no attempt to enter the room yet. Your salmon sundress is a puddle on the floor, you can’t be bothered to hang it up—you don’t know if you even want to wear it again.
By now, you’ve stopped crying, maybe you’ve simply run out of tears. You just hold Bradley’s pillow and stare at the wall blankly. Your head’s a tornado, ripping up every memory of you and Bradley and swirling them around in this unsure windstorm. It tears apart each one, looking at the mangled pieces for anything that could reaffirm what Bradley had so kindly let you know tonight. That he’s ashamed of you. That you embarrass him. That, to him, you’re just a kid.
“Honey?” Suddenly there’s a soft knock on the bedroom door and you tense. “Can… Can I come in?”
Bradley waits several minutes, but you don’t say anything—you don’t even move. You hear him let out a soft sigh.
“I’m sorry, I should have never— You were just trying to handle this maturely and you were right, I wasn’t ready to talk. I— I should have never said that to you and I swear I didn’t even mean it. I’m so sorry, honey.”
You want to hate him, in some twisted way it makes it all easier. Because you hate feeling like this—like there’s something you’re missing, like you’re the outsider to an inside joke you just can’t understand. And you didn’t used to feel this way, not before Bradley. You didn’t feel like you were running in a race where everyone else had a head start. A race you didn’t even ask to be in.
But you do it anyway because you love Bradley. You put up with people looking down on you like you’re some little girl who doesn’t know better, who couldn’t possibly have anything to offer Bradley intellectually and emotionally. You feel like you constantly have to prove to everyone that you’re worthy of being in a relationship with him. And maybe you aren’t. Because if he’s so quick to use your age against you whenever it’s convenient, then there’s nothing you could ever do that would be enough for him. You’re too young and you’re not enough for him.
You hear what sounds like Bradley sucking in a breath as he tries again. “You’re unique in all the world to me.”
And that’s what does it. Eight words, so quiet and hopeful, and your heart breaks in two. You burst into tears so suddenly it surprises even you as you bury your head into Bradley’s pillow. It’s the gross, intense kind of crying with hiccuped breath, and puffy cheeks, and a nose that won’t stop running as tears wet Bradley’s pillowcase.
“Honey? Shit—” The door knob jiggles as Bradley’s voice rises in panic. “Princess, I know you’re mad at me, but please let me in. I can’t—” 
Maybe you are childish and immature, just a kid throwing a tantrum all because someone wasn’t nice to her. Because you don’t want to open the door for Bradley, even though you know you should. You just want to cry and feel sorry for yourself until this feeling goes away. You just want Bradley hurt the same way he hurt you.
You hear the door knob jiggle again and, in the back of your head, you recall something about Bradley once learning how to pick locks—something about growing up with “Uncle Mav”. Bradley confirms it when the door clicks open suddenly and he rushes into the room, but you can’t even bring yourself to care anymore, unable to do anything but sob into his pillow.
“Oh, honey,” Bradley drops to his knees, gently coaxing his pillow from your grip so that he can pull you into his arms. He maneuvers you both so that he’s sitting on the bed, back resting against the headboard while you cry into his chest. “I’m so, so sorry, pretty girl.”
And you know that he is. From the second it left his lips, you knew he was sorry. But it doesn’t change the fact that he said it. That either, even just for a second, he meant it or he knew that it would hurt you and he wanted it to.
Something soft brushes your hand and you grab for it before you fully realize what it is. “You, um, you left him on the couch, I thought…” Bradley doesn’t finish his whispered thought, watching as you cry painfully into Pooh’s fur.
He doesn’t know what to do—and it frustrates Bradley to no end because he feels like he never does. But you’re letting him hold you and Bradley knows he has no right to ask for more, so that’s what he does. And his heart breaks with every strangled breath you let out, every tremor of your body as you unleash everything you’ve been feeling for the past 7 months. 
Bradley just keeps whispering how sorry he is. How he didn’t mean it—how he’d never mean it. He wants nothing more than to take it back. Because the more he sits with you, the more he starts to think that he might have just pushed you a step too far to pull you back from.
One thing that has always been like a breath of fresh air to Bradley is your emotional maturity. You’re healthy. Bradley’s always been a bit hotheaded, always saying things just to say them, only to hate himself after. But you’re clear, even when you’re angry. You treat Bradley with respect and you show him how to do that too. You communicate and you do your best to honestly understand where he’s coming from. And, if things ever do go too far, you still try to work through it because you love him more than you’re mad at him and he loves you more than he’s mad at you too.
But right now, no matter how much he tries, he can’t coax words out of you. Even after you stop crying, you stare at the wall wordlessly. Bradley’s not entirely sure you hear him, your entire body unresponsive. You’re letting him hold you, but maybe that’s just because there’s nothing left in you to fight him on that too.
“Honey?” Again, he calls out to you, because he’s so used to you letting him clean up his messes. He’s so used to feeling like you think he’s worth fixing things.
Because you’re so much better than Bradley in that way, you think about his feelings so effortlessly. And sometimes he resents that. That you love him so good, it sometimes makes him feel bad. Why is it so easy for you to love him the right way when he can go an entire night making you feel insufficient and not even realize it?
Sometimes Bradley feels like you’re too mature for him. Like you understand things that he doesn’t and you know things that he never learned—you are smarter than him. And sometimes Bradley’s pride can’t take it, because he wants to be that person. Who understands his emotions so easily and articulates them like he walked out of a self-help book. Instead, he’s the person who has to watch all his flaws and mistakes turn you into an empty, indifferent husk. He’s the person who says things and then has to listen to you cry.
“Please, princess, can you talk to me?” Bradley hates this. He hates knowing he hurt you, but not what’s going on in your head. He hates that he has no idea how to fix it. “You can yell at me. Call me an asshole. Just—” There’s a soft crack in his voice and his eyes water. “Talk to me please.”
He thinks that surely you’ll say something. He’s begging now, and you’ve both had time to think, and you never like leaving fights unresolved. But you say nothing, still staring numbly at his wall. Bradley feels his heart drop to his stomach.
He knows what he said was wrong and hurtful, he knows that. But this time, it almost feels different, like he’s fucked up in a way he hasn’t fully realized yet. Because you don’t do the silent treatment. You talk to Bradley or, if you feel like you can’t, you tell him as much. You’ve never ignored Bradley out of spite. So this can’t be spite—Bradley feels like it’s something worse.
“I don’t think I’m supposed to hate being in my 20s this much.” Your voice finally comes out, small and sniffly, a hollow sound as you continue staring at the wall.
Bradley swallows thickly. “What— What do you mean, honey?”
“I’m just really tired,” you continue and it’s like you don’t even hear him. “Of having to be perfect all the time so you’ll be proud of me.”
“Princess, I am proud—”
“I’m tired of having to impress your friends even though they act more immature than I do. And I go to all these stupid things with you, and I let them talk over me, and belittle me, and make me feel like a child… What did I do to deserve that?” Your voice wobbles, breaking at the end, and Bradley tightens his grip around you.
“Nothing. Honey, you didn’t do anything to deserve that,” Bradley assures you, his own voice wavering. “And I’m so, so sorry I didn’t realize that you were feeling this way—”
“You make me wish I were older. I think I’d be enough for you if I were older.”
Bradley feels sick, shaking his head vigorously as tears prick his waterline. “No. No, you’re enough for me now, honey. Don’t say that, please— How can I fix this? Just let me fix this.”
“I’m tired, Bradley. I want to go to bed,” you sigh.
“I don’t want you to go to bed feeling like this,” Bradley’s tentative with how he argues with you, but it’s almost scary to hear you sound so numb and exhausted, so indifferent to the idea of him, like maybe he isn’t worth all the trouble of loving. “Can… Can we talk some more? Or— Or I can talk and—”
“I just want to sleep.”
And after everything he’s put you through tonight, Bradley can’t ask you for more. So he relents, letting you roll off him and get settled in his side of the bed. Your back is facing him as Bradley wordlessly takes your side. He watches as your middle rises and falls, unable to take his eyes off you but too afraid to hold you like he wants to. 
Your breath evens out relatively quickly, Bradley’s watching you so intently he can pinpoint the exact moment you fall asleep. His mind is too restless to follow suit though, too focused on replaying every moment of the night. Why hadn’t he noticed how uncomfortable you were tonight? Why had he spent the whole night talking to Hannah without realizing he’d left you on your own? Why couldn’t he have just said he was sorry, instead of making everything worse?
Bradley gets up, careful to make sure he doesn’t disturb you. You cried a lot, he reasons, you’d probably want some water when you woke up. And Bradley’s too restless. He couldn’t risk waking you and having you decide that you don’t even want to stay at his house at all.
Now at the foot of his bed, Bradley looks at you again. You look so small under his blanket, your eyes and cheeks puffy and wet as they press against the damp fur of your favorite stuffed animal. You’re still beautiful of course, but a different kind of beautiful. A sad kind of beautiful—like The Starry Night, Bradley thinks. 
Bradley had never really been into art, and he’s sure no one expects him to be, but you love art. Once he had surprised you with tickets to a van Gogh exhibit at the San Diego Museum of Art and the way you lit up the entire room with your smile had Bradley deciding that he’d walk through every art museum on the planet with you just to see you smile like that again. And in going to this museum with you, Bradley learned that maybe he did like art after all—but only when he was with you. Because your love for art wasn’t pretentious. You didn’t force him to stare at one painting for half an hour as you contrived meaning from every brush stroke and color choice. You just liked to look at it.
But Bradley will never forget the moment the two of you stopped at one of the few paintings in the exhibit he’d actually seen before and you pursed your lips gently.
“I’ve always had mixed feelings about Starry Night.”
Bradley turns his head away from the painting to look at you. “In what way?”
“I don’t know. I guess, for me, it’s always represented how selfish we can be as people,” you shrug.
Bradley squints at the painting, tilting his head slightly as he tries to understand what you’re seeing in the brush strokes that he’s missing. What’s so selfish about a painting of the night sky?
“It’s pretty well known that van Gogh wasn’t… doing well when he painted Starry Night,” you gesture slightly to your ear. “And that, actually, painting might have been making it worse, with everything that’s in the paint and stuff. And that’s part of the reason why Vincent van Gogh went through a lot of pain and suffering over the course of his life. But, even knowing that, you know what we say? We say, ‘well, if he hadn’t, we never would have gotten The Starry Night’. As if this painting,” you stop to point at the canvas in front of you, “is somehow worth all that suffering just because we find it beautiful. I just feel that it’s an awful, awful thing to be grateful for someone else’s pain solely because it created something we think is beautiful.”
Bradley has long since stopped looking at the painting, watching your profile as your eyes rake over the colors and shapes thoughtfully. You fiddle with the strap of your purse.
“I don’t know— For all I know, van Gogh could disagree, but I think I’d rather be happy than beautiful.”
And that’s the kind of beautiful Bradley sees when he looks at you asleep in his bed. The kind of beautiful that hurts. The kind of beautiful that only ever shows itself because Bradley’s selfish. He’d rather have you, sad and beautiful, than not know of your beauty at all.
But Bradley wants to have you happy. He wants you to be the kind of happy that lights up rooms because he got you tickets to an art exhibit. The kind of happy that makes his heart skip a beat when you walk into the living room in your salmon colored sundress.
He hopes that, in the morning, you’ll wake up not as tired with him and he’ll be able to fix things. To make it up to you the way he should have when you first started acting different in the car. Bradley has always been so sure that the two of you could work through anything. That you love each other more than you’re mad at each other. That you want to fix things more than you want them to just stop.
Now, as he watches you like The Starry Night, Bradley hopes more than anything that that’s still true.
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ddejavvu · 1 year
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Thick Thighs Save Lives - Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Reader x Jake 'Hangman' Seresin
Summary: Being the only aviator with meat on your bones is tough. It's even more tough when you're stuck showering with two of your teammates.
Contents/Warnings: smut (minors dni), double penetration, fingering (vaginal and anal, f receiving), oral (m receiving), dirty talk, shower sex, protected sex, spit kink, body insecurities, mid/plus!sized reader, self-deprecation, arguing, angst with a fluffy/smutty ending
WC: 5.5K / navi
feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!
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If there’s anything you don’t want to hear during a not-so-friendly game of beach football, it’s ‘shit!’. The exclamation comes from Coyote who’s branched off to your towels on the sand, fingers curled around his watch, “We’re late.”
“How late?” Phoenix is already adjusting her ponytail, as it’s frazzled from the action. She’s squinting in the sun and remedies it by knocking her sunglasses down off of her head and onto her nose. It’s smooth, and she knows it by the soft smirk that curls at her lips.
“We have twenty minutes to get on the road.” 
“Shit,” Rooster parrots, dropping the ball where he stands, which is how you know he’s panicked too, “We all need showers. Penny’s gonna kill us if we stink up the restaurant.”
“We can go in teams,” Fanboy decides, already sprinting over to his towel, “We don’t have time for individual ones.”
Before you can get a word in edgewise Coyote and Phoenix are rushing to join him, Bob hot on their trail. The showers are spacious, sure, but you wouldn’t exactly volunteer to share them with anyone. 
With a terrible sinking feeling in your stomach you realize that the only three left are you, Rooster, and Hangman. That means the only way you’ll get to Penny and Maverick’s engagement party is if you shower together.
They’re already at their towels, scrubbing sand out of their hair and strapping their watches back on. Hangman’s is a thick, black leather band, and you can see flecks of sand marring the sleek strap from where it laid on the towel. Rooster’s is thinner, brown in color and gold around the rim. His is clean, but he puts it on his sweaty, sandy wrist. It won’t be for long.
Both men are shirtless, too-tight jean shorts squeezing their waists. You make a point not to stare as you trek back to your towel, already picking up on their competitive banter before you’ve even stood beside them.
“-probably use all my shampoo,” Hangman scoffs, clenching his towel tight in his fist, “You always steal my shit, Bradshaw.”
“I think it’s only fair seeing as you steal my gel!” Rooster quips back, gesturing to Hangman’s stiff, shiny hair, untouched even after your game, “Isn’t it fucking weird, Y/L/N? How much he uses?”
Rooster looks back at you for confirmation, someone on his side. But you’re too disheartened to respond, dreading your impending doom. All you offer is a meager, “Yeah.”, that curls a frown under Rooster’s mustache.
“You hurt yourself or something?” Hangman raises an eyebrow, stunned by your lack of teasing, “I think we need to call the doctor, you didn’t just insult me.”
“I’m fine.” You grumble, towel held around your waist despite the presence of your rash guard, “Just tired from football.”
“Well get ready,” Rooster warns you, “Mav’s gonna have to tell us all about how he and Penny met, and I’m really hoping he withholds the details on the little rendezvous that got him in trouble with her dad, but I know he won’t.”
You shudder for a moment, if only to please him, to throw him off your scent. You’re tired, there’s not any other reason you’re in a funk. You’re tired.
You are tired. You’re tired of caring, of constantly thinking about it. You’re tired of wearing a rash guard to the beach instead of a swimsuit, because everyone else is smaller than you. You’re tired of watching people’s eyes, tracking them to make sure that if they ever dip below your chest there’s something in front of your stomach to block it from their view. You’re tired of adjusting your uniform to make it looser, you’re tired of leaning against the bar instead of sitting at it, you’re just tired.
You are tired. You’re tired of caring, of constantly thinking about it. You’re tired of wearing a rash guard to the beach instead of a swimsuit, because everyone else is smaller than you. You’re tired of watching people’s eyes, tracking them to make sure that if they ever dip below your chest there’s something in front of your stomach to block it from their view. You’re tired of adjusting your uniform to make it looser, you’re tired of leaning against the bar instead of sitting at it, you’re just tired.
“Hey,” Hangman’s voice breaks you out of your thoughts, admittedly less grating and irritating than it normally is “You sure you’re okay?”
You blink and they’re staring at you, brows furrowed and limbs frozen in place. You wish that the waves lapping gently at the sand would crash onto shore and swallow you whole, sweep you up in a tidal wave of salt water and seaweed so that you wouldn’t have to answer.
“I’m fine,” You grit, slipping your feet into your shoes and rushing to stand outside the showers, “C’mon, we’ll be late.”
--
You had hoped that they’d get too busy bickering with each other to ever find you. But here they come, not five minutes later, just as Phoenix steps out of the steamy bathroom. A towel is wrapped around her torso and Hangman exaggerates his ogling of her, only turning your stomach further.
“Perfect timing,” He drawls, and she rolls her eyes. 
Bob steps out next, taking one look at her face and stepping in front of her, “Your turn, Bagman. Try not to use all the gel.”
“See?” Rooster nudges you, his elbow against your arm as Bob and Phoenix walk away, “I told you! It’s absurd, he slathers it on like cement.”
“He’s gotta,” Coyote drawls, reaching over to knock on Jake’s head, “Otherwise his head’d sound as empty as it is.”
The two engage in a good-natured shoving match, but it’s one that nearly sends Coyote’s towel cascading to the ground, and you keep your eyes firmly on the tiny bottles of shampoo and conditioner that you’d brought. You read over the ingredients, as if sodium laureth sulfate and glycol distearate will keep your mind off of your humiliation.
“You said you’re fine,” Bradley murmurs from beside you, “But if it’s something you just don’t wanna say around Hangman, he’s not listening.”
Part of you is less embarrassed to be honest and exposed to Rooster than Hangman. But he’s still a man, an incredibly fit one at that, and you’re not sure you’d ever want to reveal it to either of them.
“I’m just nervous,” You tell him the only part of the truth you’re willing to admit. I’ve never... showered with a- a boy before. A man.”
You cringe at your misstep, but if Bradley’s amused by it, he doesn’t show it. Instead he hums, sympathetically so, “We’ll turn around, honey. Don’t worry about it, okay?”
“You’ll turn around,” You mutter, “I think it’ll just egg Jake on further.”
“What’s this I hear about eggin’ me on?” A familiar southern twang makes you tense as the man it’s coming from appears by your side, bumping his hip into yours, “You ready for our steam session, sweets?”
“Leave her alone, Hangman,” Rooster groans, feet slapping against the tiles as he goes to adjust the water. He shoves at Hangman’s back as he passes, and you stifle a giggle as the man nearly falls over.
“Hey, she’s the one that chose to shower with us,” Jake insists, and Bradley’s scoff is enough for you not to fight back, “And I would, too, if I were you, darlin’. Do you know how many ladies are lined up to see how hung Hangman is?”
You force a gag, “The only lady I see here is myself, and I’d rather smear wet sand in my eyes.”
“That’s what I’m gonna do to you if you don’t turn around and shut up,” Bradley speaks through the roar of the shower water, steam already rising from its fall, “Just drop your pants and wash your ass, so Y/L/N can shower to herself.”
“Well, well, well,” Jake smirks, towel cinched around his waist in only one hand as he stalks for the showers, “Looks like one of the ladies lined up is Bradshaw himself. Wanna see it, Rooster? Here it is.”
Jake drops his towel ceremoniously, and Bradley’s face morphs into a grimace as he turns away hastily.
“My fucking eyes,” He laments, and you pause in gathering your toilettries to laugh, while also trying very hard not to stare at Jake, “Oh my god, Y/N, you won’t have to worry about me seeing you. I’m going to pour shampoo into my eyes until I go blind.”
Jake realizes you’re taking a little too long getting ready, cocking a hip as he leans his head back to stare down his nose at you, “So what, you gonna ditch dinner, Y/L/N? Whatcha waitin’ for?”
“She’s waiting for you to stop being a perv and turn around,” Bradley comes to your rescue once again, and thankfully, Jake seems to realize it’s a real issue, pivoting until he’s facing the shower wall.
“I think she just wants a nice view of our asses,” Jake theorizes, standing with his clear on display, “Which is better, Y/N? Mine or Chicken’s?”
“Chicken,” Rooster grumbles under his breath, and if you were brave enough to actually declare a winner, you’d give it to him just for that. But, Hangman’s form is rather impressive, all tight curves and tan skin and-
And you shouldn’t be looking. You clear your throat awkwardly, peeling off your rash guard as Jake sponges his side down. There’s sand running thick down the drain and you hope it doesn’t back up, something you’d feel terrible for Penny to have to clean up.
“Uh,” Bradley stills in his place, “Shit, I think I left my shampoo over there. Y/N, could you…?”
“I got it,” You hum, reaching over for the blue bottle and tucking it in his carefully, blindly outstretched hand, “Thanks for, um- here.”
“Yep,” He nods, smearing a dot of the substance on his palm and lathering it through his hair.
“Oh no,” Jake mimics Bradley’s previous predicament, dropping the bottle in his hand so that it rests between his legs, “Y/N, could you-”
“Ass,” You drawl, reaching forwards to butt your palm against his back. He stumbles forward with a laugh, catching himself on the railing. He bends down to reach for it and you’re nervous he’ll peek at your body from between his legs, but he stays respectful, something you know he is at his core even if he pretends differently.
You find yourself relaxing against the tiled floor of the shower, feet firmly planted instead of poised to run. As much as you know neither of the men in front of you would make any rude comments about your body or your weight, there’s still the nauseating fear that they might think differently of you having seen you completely unobscured. So you’re thankful for the privacy, that lasts… well, until it doesn’t.
The snap of your conditioner cap catches the skin of your pointed finger in its jaws and a gasp clutches tight at your lungs.
“Son of a bitch!” You cry, waves of pain flowing through your finger and out towards the rest of them. On cue each man turns, eyes wide and fear-stricken, without thinking.
You know they didn’t do it on purpose. You know they instinctively thought you were hurt, and wanted to help. You know they didn’t mean to look at you. But the withering feeling in your guts knows no logic, only fear.
They’re looking, it hisses, They’re looking at everything. The way your stomach pudges into a roll at the base. The way your breasts sag. The way your thighs stretch, marks littering their stems, and present no gap.
“You’re bleeding.” Bradley observes, eyes trained faithfully on your finger, “I’ll get a bandaid.”
He rushes for the cabinets outside the shower, dripping water over the floor. Jake stands, staring, but you’re too humiliated to glance at his face and notice the soft pinky blush on his cheeks that’s spreading to his ears. 
“Here,” Bradley speaks from behind you, though he molds himself to your side when you’re still frozen in fear. He brushes a towel over your cut, the turquoise material staining red. He then undoes the waxy paper wrapping from the bandaid, sticking it tight to your skin.
“It’ll get wet,” He reminds you, “But it’ll stop soap from stinging it.”
You don’t even thank him. At your prolonged silence he glances up at Hangman, intent on giving him a concerned glance, but he sees the man’s eyes rove over your form and snaps.
“Dude,” Bradley utters gruffly, “Don’t be a perv. Come on, turn around.”
When Jake stays just as still as you, he reaches for him, shoving hard, “I said turn around!:
“Please, Jake,” You whimper, tears brimming in your eyes, “Turn around.”
“You’re crying.” Jake snaps out of his trance to frown up at you, and Bradley keeps pushing, an insistent thorn in his side, “Why are you crying?”
“Because you’re-!” You gush, lip wobbling, “You’re looking at me, and- and judging me, and-”
“Judging you,” He scoffs, eyes nearly bugging out of his head, “Best body I’ve ever seen. Case closed. Court dismissed.”
“Shut up,” You seethe, tears finally dripping down your cheeks, “Just shut up! You think this is fucking funny? You don’t think there’s a reason I didn’t want to shower with you?”
“You’re private, I get that.” He scoffs. “But if you think I’m judgin’ any part’a that, then you’re stupid, too.”
“Not the compliment you think it is,” Bradley mutters, hands still prying at Jake’s shoulder, “She told you to turn around, just do it.”
“No,” Jake doubles down, pushing Bradley away and stalking towards you, “I wanna know why you think so goddamn low of me. You really think I’d rope a woman into a shower and then pick apart what she looks like? You think that low of me?”
“It’s not about you,” You gush, hands at your sides in frustration, “It's about me! And my fucking body, okay? I’m not calling you a dick for judging me, I’m calling myself-”
“What?” Jake’s head tilts to the side, eyes glinting dangerously, “What are you calling yourself?”
“....Gross.” You finish lamely, the fire in your chest extinguishing with the poof of a sigh that escapes your lips.
He’s grabbing your hand without thinking about it, gentle but firm. You stare at him, anxiety-riddled.
“Listen here, girly. I’ve let you get away with sayin’ a lotta things about yourself. Dumbass I agree with, especially considering these circumstances. I’ve heard clumsy and stubborn, those I don’t have an issue with either. But don’t look me in my fuckin’ face and tell me you’re gross, ‘cause it’s an insult to me and my tastes.”
He squeezes your hand once before releasing it, and it feels more now like a heartfelt gesture than a threatening one. You’re breathing heavy, lungs cut short from the adrenaline of the moment, Even though Bradley isn’t pushing him anymore, standing on the sidelines waiting, watching, Hangman turns around without another word. He scrubs aggressively through his scalp and you’re almost surprised nothing bleeds, your mouth hung slightly open and your tongue leaden over your teeth.
“I’m not your type.” You finally manage to mutter, voice taut.
“Yes you are,” Jake scoffs, “How would you know?”
“I saw you eyeing up Phoenix earlier.” You roll your eyes, and if Bradley hadn’t turned around again you’d have flashed him an exasperated look.
“So? A man can like several shapes,” Jake boasts, voice losing venom, “Plus I ogle Phoenix just to piss her off.”
“It works.” Bradley cuts in, and you snort.
“Point is,” Jake drawls, and you’re sure if Bradley was in his line of sight he’d have been the victim of a very withering stare, “Don’t discredit yourself. You’ve got sexy ass thighs, woman.”
“Jesus, Jake,” Bradley sighs, “Can you just hurry up, already? I’m sure there’s nothing more Y/L/N wants than to get rid of you.”
“Oh, shut up, lapdog,” Jake deadpans, “You can’t tell me you don’t agree.”
Bradley’s silent for a moment, and your gut churns.
“Whether I do or don’t is irrelevant,” He chooses his words carefully, “Let’s just leave Y/N alone.”
“He totally does,” Jake snickers, “Hear that, Y/L/N? It’s his blush.”
“Like you weren’t blushing!” Bradley scoffs, “I looked up at you and thought you’d been temporarily replaced with a baboon’s ass.”
“Oh, that’s funny,” Jake drawls, “That’s what I think every time I see you, porn stache. Then I remember it’s just your natural charm.”
The crisis has been averted enough for you to let out a shaky laugh at their insults, and the sound catches both men’s attention.
“Listen, Y/L/N,” Jake starts, voice much kinder and softer now, “The point of this isn’t me telling Bradshaw he’s got the face of an ass. The point is to get it through your thick fuckin’ skull; you’re pretty damn sexy, y’hear?”
You snort at his callous nature, “No one’s ever told me anything like that before.”
“Yeah?’ He pauses,towel in hand that he nimbly swings over his shoulder, “Well, pardon me for lookin’, and even more for touchin’, but everyone else is fuckin’ insane.”
Before you can process his words he reaches down to palm at your thigh, a hefty squeeze that sends your flesh spilling against his palm. You stiffen, even though he stays politely away from your ass, encroaching only on territory he could also grab while you’re clothed. The feeling of his touch, no matter how chaste, elicits a noise from your throat that you wish you could pass off for a scream.
It’s not.
It’s a moan.
He stops where he’d begun pulling away, eyes sharpening slightly. You don’t dare look at Bradley, but if you did, you’d see his cock twitch.
“Did I hurt you?” Jake asks, voice low.
All you can do is shake your head, teeth digging into your lower lip helplessly.
“Did you like it?” He tries again, but this time he doesn’t accept body language as an answer/ Still hunched, he ignores your nodding and reaches up with his free hand to tug your bottom lip out from under your teeth.
“I asked you a question,” Jake croons, voice smooth and soft, “Did you like it?”
All you can whimper is a meager ‘Yes’.
Do you want me to do it again?”
“Yes.” Stronger, this time.
His hand plants itself firmly back over your thigh, thumb stretching towards the curve of your ass this time. It’s a little more suggestive, and a lot more alluring.
“Jesus,” Jake groans, kneading the soft flesh of your doughy thigh between his fingers, “Bradshaw, c’mere for a second.”
He hesitates, “Do you want me there, Y/N?”
“Yes,” You nod once more, legs stiffening and thigh tensing against Jake’s palm, “I- I do.”
“You take front,” Jake instructs, falling into place behind you with his hands now greedily prying at your ass, “And I’ll take back.”
The smile that Bradley offers you when he steps in front of you is nothing short of dreamy. It’s enough to make you blush, and he lets out a soft, breathy laugh at how forward Hangman is being while he stands giddily in front of you.
“If you say hi,” Jake drawls, hooking his chin over your shoulder and reaching around your front to grip at the seams of your inner thighs while glaring at Bradley suspiciously, “I’m going to slap you.”
“I wasn’t going to say hi,” Bradley scoffs, and you can tell by his blush that he totally was.
“Jesus, enough yammering,” Jake scoffs, turning his head to press his dewy lips into your neck, “We’re gonna be late for dinner.”
You worry, for a moment, that he’ll let go. That he’ll walk away, get dressed for the restaurant, and pretend nothing ever happened. But that’s not what he does, of course. Instead, you feel the hard press of his cock against your ass.
“I’ll be gentle,” Jake croons, feeling you tense as his hands smooth over the dip of your ass, “We’ll go slow, okay?”
“Real slow,” Bradley murmurs, and it catches your attention, reeling it back to him. You realize he’s standing much closer to you now than he had been before, lips nearly brushing yours.
The second your lips meet his in a kiss, Hangman smooths his hand between the globes of your ass. You squirm at the sensitive feeling, foreign as his fingertip brushes against your hole. But he doesn’t let up, and neither does Bradley.
Rooster’s tongue slides against your bottom lip, warm and wet. At the same time Hangman’s hands squeeze your ass, pulling apart each side and smoothing down the skin between. It sends a shiver up your spine that escapes in a puff of air between your lips, one that Bradley eagerly swallows.
Bradley’s hands grab your cheeks, thumbs brushing near your eyes and yanking you closer. You can feel Jake’s fingers carefully prodding and pressing at the tight ring of your asshole, a hitch in your breath causing you to bite down on Bradley’s lip.
“Fuck,” He hisses, coming away with a red lip and a guttural groan, “Jake, just- let up. Me first, she’s obviously sensitive.”
“She’s just tight,” Jake murmurs, lips pressing to the expanse of your shoulder, “Nothin’ I can’t fix.”
“You’ll have plenty of time to fix it,” Bradley grumbles, tearing a condom open with his teeth that he’d snagged from his wallet, “‘Cause I’m going in first, and you- shit!”
His fingers, slippery from the water and probably excess soap, drop the condom. The way that you’re arched into Hangman’s touch means that your thighs are squeezed together and bent slightly, and there’s no better way to catch a condom than between your thighs.
The foil wrapper sticks between your legs, making it easy for Bradley to pluck it out and toss the wrapper aside. Penny will find it tomorrow, because you’re sure as hell not gonna remember to get it.
“Well, whaddya know,” Jake drawls, grinning against the skin of your neck so hard you can feel it, “What they say is true. Thick thighs save lives.”
You face-plant into the water-dropped skin of Bradley’s neck, ignoring the way Hangman snickers.
“Actually, I think they just stopped a life from being conceived,” Bradley reasons, only a few sloppy strokes of his cock needed to easily slip the condom on, “But that probably saved my life, ‘cause if I got you pregnant in Penny’s bathroom, she’d slit my throat.”
The tip of Bradley’s hardened dick presses to your inner thigh, skin seldom touched and sensitive. You lean into it, but Hangman’s fingers follow, gently stroking over the rim of your ass. It’s starting to feel less foreign and more pleasurable, a twinge of something sweet licking at the underside of your belly like a rogue flame.
Bradley gently presses two fingers against your slit, ever-considerate in making sure you’re sufficiently prepped, but his eyes widen at how much slick he’s greeted with just past your folds.
“Holy shit,” He breathes, nose nudging yours as his lips brush with your own, “You’re wet.”
“Duh,” Hangman scoffs, and one of his hands abandons your ass to slip between your folds, collecting slick on their tips and dragging it back to your ass, “I’ve been touchin’ up on her for a while now.”
“Pardon me for thinking that’d work like an umbrella on a rainy day,” Bradley bitches, but you cut him off with a kiss before he can spout any other mildly insulting metaphors for how bad he thinks Hangman is in bed. You’ll vouch if you have to, he knows what he’s doing.
With each slow circle that his fingers trace around your rim, you bend back into him. Until you can feel his cock pressed stiff to your backside,just as Bradley presses his tip flush with your clit.
“Oh-,” You gasp, clit sending a shockwave of electric lust reverberating throughout your body, “Bradley, I- Inside, please, now!”
“I’m coming, sweetheart,” He croons, speaking in a velvety soft hum against your lips, “Don’t worry.”
He holds to his promise, sliding his dick down from where it’s pressed to your clit and easing it between your folds. You heave a blissful sigh at the feeling of being full, and it makes you rock backwards into Hangman’s fingers.
One breaches your hole, slipping inside with an agonizingly pleasurable burn. The stretch feels heavenly, especially because your cunt is already stretched to accommodate Bradley’s cock that slowly bottoms out inside of you.
“Good,” Jake praises, kissing beneath your ear, “I knew you could do it.”
Rooster lets out a groan at the feeling of your involuntary clench around him, eyes screwed shut. His forehead is braced against yours and you take the liberty of engaging him in another kiss, letting the pleasure of Jake’s fingers at your hole compel you to lick into Bradley’s mouth.
Being pleasured from both sides is too overwhelming. You feel yourself already rising to a climax, pressed on by both Bradley’s thick cock grating against your insides and Jake’s fingers.
You smooth your tongue over Bradley’s, gripping his shoulder when he increases his pace to be steadily fast. He’s not speeding through anything, but he’s not slow either, and it makes your insides burn.
The feeling of his cock ramming over and over and over against that spongy spot deep within you is too much, especially when Hangman slides a single, thick finger into your ass. You can’t help it, your orgasm hits you like a freight train (or perhaps a fighter jet), and you clench sporadically around Bradley’s thick, hard cock.
You whine relentlessly into his mouth, fingers clawing and prying at his damp skin as your knees go weak. You’re surprised you stay standing at all, but you funnel all of your orgasmic vigor into the kiss that Bradley eagerly licks out of you, and clutching his shoulders is enough.
Coming down from your high is jarring, especially when you realize that the steady pressure against your clit had been Bradley’s thumb the entire time. The pleasurable sensation is starting to sour with the unpleasant sting of overstimulation, and you tear his hand away eagerly, “Too much.”
“Sorry,” Bradley grunts into the kiss, the bristles of his mustache grating at your lip. 
Bradley pulls out of you, still hard and red-tipped. 
Jake takes one look down, his free hand sliding up your back while his other stays firm at your ass, “Those were pretty sounds. Look’t what they did to Bradshaw. See that, honey?”
You nod, breathless as you stare at Bradley’s impressive length.
“I think you should return the favor,” Jake muses, putting pressure against your back so that you bend in half, “Suck him off, darlin’.”
You land at eye-level with Bradley’s covered cock, and you can’t get the condom off fast enough. You drag your tongue along the underside of Bradley’s hard dick, taking the heated length into your hands and squeezing fondly at his balls. He swears low and gruff under his breath, watching your tongue snake against his slit.
Your lips curl around the head of Bradley’s cock, and the way that Jake adds a second finger to your ass makes you suck hard. You feel Bradley’s cock twitch on your tongue, and you scrape your teeth feather-light along him as you take more of him into your mouth.
He tries to keep himself still, tries not to face-fuck you, but he’s hopeless. His hips jolt forwards and you gag at the feeling of his dick hitting the back of your throat. It makes him groan, fists clenched at his side.
You bob and suckle along every inch of Bradley’s dick, licking up the vein that runs along the side and hollowing your cheeks while Jake fingers you open. When there are suddenly no fingers in your ass anymore at all, you whimper, taking Bradley’s cockhead into your fist while you try craning your neck to look back at Hangman.
“Keep going,” Jake directs you, nodding his head towards your fist, “He’s not done, and neither am I.”
You slip the hand that’s curled around Rooster’s dick and slide it up his length, rubbing gently at the base while you kitten lick the head. He pants and groans, bucking into your fist and subsequently your throat. The feeling of Jake’s dick pressed tight to your stretched hole makes you jolt forwards, and you face-fuck yourself on Bradley’s dick.
“Jesus,” He hisses, “You’re- you’re good at this, baby. C’mon, a- a little more, now.”
You let out a scream muffled by Bradley’s cock as Jake slides himself into your ass, dick grating delightfully tight against your rim. Once he bottoms out he sets a merciless pace, giving you no time to adjust before you’re being hammered into like he’s a feral animal.
“See that, Bradshaw?” Jake boasts, sending a hefty slap to your ass, “Told you she could do it. Perfect ass.”
“I see,” Bradley pants, hands tangled in your hair while you bob on his cock, “I- I’m gonna cum, honey.”
There’s barely any warning before the sight of Jake’s cock ramming into your ass gets to be too much for Bradley, but you don’t need it. You’re perfectly content to welcome his warm seed down your throat, letting it paint the inside of your mouth as you tongue him dry.
You don’t realize you’re using Bradley’s cock as a pacifier until he pushes at your forehead, hissing in oversensitivity, “Okay, okay! It’s too much,” He soothes you by sticking two of his slick-stained, thick fingers between your lips instead, “Here, honey. There y’go.”
Drool gathers at the seam of your lips and Bradley smears it away from your mouth, gathering it on his palm and licking it away. He groans at the taste, his own seed permeating your saliva, “Messy girl.”
Jake isn’t satisfied with his lack of action. Apparently, jackhammering into your ass isn’t quite enough for the guy, and he fists a hand in your hair to yank you upright with a grunt.
Bradley’s fingers slip from your lips with a pop and you cry out as Hangman manhandles you, pleasurable pain flooding your senses from the hair-pulling that start waves of a second orgasm swelling below your belly.
“Open,” Jake commands, keeping your neck bent backwards so that his face hovers over yours. You open your mouth without hesitation, and he spits inside.
Warm saliva, cooling quickly the more you stick your tongue out, pools by your throat. You eagerly swallow without being told,drool now seeping backwards down your face and towards your eyes. Jake licks it off with a broad, wet swipe of his tongue, and smears it against your lips.
The kiss is messy, upside-down and drooly, but it’s hot. Jake’s tongue licks against yours and his teeth nip at your bottom lip, a real spider-man style porno.
Your spine aches from being bent like a curly-q, but the ecstasy bleeding into your core is enough to push it to the back of your mind. You reach down to finger your clit, a whimper bleeding into Jake’s mouth at the action.
“Gonna cum, honey?” Jake drawls, “Sweet pussy’a yours gonna clench around nothin’?”
His southern drawl is stronger when he’s fucking, you note. It’s attractive.
“Not nothing,” Bradley volunteers, sticking his spit-soaked fingers up into your gaping cunt, “Cum, baby.”
You’re very good at following orders.
Your second orgasm hurts, in the best way. It tears you apart from the inside out, cunt clenching tight at Bradley’s fingers as he curls them inside of you. Jake bites hard at your lip as you ride out your second orgasm, and his dick twitches inside of you once, twice, three times before he’s letting himself go in tandem.
He fills you with warm cum, the substance gushing out of your gaped hole and oozing out around his own cock. 
“Jesus fuck,” He snaps, the words an unintelligible grunt against your lips, “So tight, and so sexy.”
Bradley’s free hand braces itself on your stomach, and the touch doesn’t make you recoil like it normally would. It’s lewd, but being splattered with their cum really makes you believe that they’re not going to judge your body.
Instead you lean into the touch, letting Bradley embrace you as you come down from your high a moaning pile of mush.
“Slow,” You warn Jake, who’s never heard the word a day in his life. He follows directions, though, easing his dick out of you and making sure it doesn’t burn.
“We need another shower,” Bradley pants after a moment of fucked-out silence. 
You nod, brain foggy, “Yeah. We- we can’t show up to the restaurant smelling like sex. They’ll know.”
--
As it turns out, you don’t need to smell like sex for everyone to know you’ve just had it. You show up forty-five minutes late, sweaty-faced and rosy-lipped, all slightly out of breath. Your dress is rumpled, and Bradley’s tie is haphazardly secured.
“Oh,” Phoenix grimaces, nose scrunching in disgust, “Gross, guys.”
“In my bathroom?” Penny looks aghast, “You better not have clogged the shower drain.”
“Easy,” Maverick throws a hand out over her own, “We’ve done it in there one too many times to judge.”
“Gross!” Payback rears away from the older pilot sitting next to him, “Everybody needs to stop getting laid, but if you do, don’t tell me about it!”
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2K notes · View notes
vcrooster · 2 years
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He needs his family
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Angst, smut & and just a little bit of fluff.
Paring: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw & Wife!Reader
Word count: 3.3k
Summary: Your husband come back home to you completely shattered.
Warnings: mentions of rough sex, mental health issues, mentions of death and blood.
Author’s note: thank you guys so much for all the love I’ve been receiving from you guys! 🤍
***
Rooster was usually enthusiastic when he came back home from deployment.
You could tell when he was happy to be back in the comfort of his home, enjoying every second with his boy that had gotten a couple of inches bigger since he left. Rooster had promised to teach him how to play the piano and show him granpa’s album collection when he got back.
But he had to admit that the best part of it was sleeping in his own bed in your arms every night, he’d miss making love to you and looking at how pretty your face looked when you started to doze off into your sleep.
But this time it was all different.
He doesn’t know you know. You received a call early in the morning, your alarm wasn’t set for another three hours. It didn’t startle you as much thinking it was Bradley since he’s overseas. But it wasn’t him, it was Pete.
Your heart sank, you didn’t want all the worst scenarios to play in your head, but they did.
“Pete” You tried to sound as if you weren’t biting your nails anxiously. But you knew that he was the bearer of bad news.
“Sorry to wake you up–” He started.
“No, no, no, it’s alright”.
“There’s been some complications in the mission with Bradley” He sighed. You covered your mouth trying to drown the sorrows. Oh god no, don’t let him be dead.
“Is he?” The words left your mouth so silently that you almost thought he wouldn’t hear you.
“He’s okay, they just have him in observation in the hospital” He is quick to clarify, imagining what you must be feeling on the other end. “His wingman didn’t make it”.
Your body feels cold when he says that. It’s not the first time he had an accident in the air, however this was the first time he lost anyone, and if it was his fault you know he will never forgive himself for it.
“He’s set to go home by the end of next week, I’m just supposed to be calling you just to let you know to pick him up at the airport” you hear a door close on his side of the line and his voice is much clearer.
“What happened?” The hot tears were falling down your cheeks and your nails were digging in the palm of your hand.
“I can’t go into details” Pete breathed out “All he needs is his family right now”.
“Alright” all the words get stuck in your throat. He hangs up the call leaving you unsettled.
It’s three in the morning and you're crying in your bed. You feel a lot of pressure in your head, your eyes trail off to the framed picture of your wedding day on your bedroom wall.
Your boy in the middle of both of you, he was just a couple of years old in that picture, had the biggest smile on his face just like Bradley’s.
He looks so much like him.
He was always stealing your phone to send him videos and pictures of what he was doing, he liked to keep him updated.
He had even dressed up as a pilot for halloween, he asked for you to make him a patch with the name: Nick Bradshaw “Hawk”, the call sign Bradley chose for him when they’d use to play pilots in the living room.
But lately he hasn’t replied to him.
You hate to see your son keep sending messages to him with no answer. It absolutely broke your heart when he asked you if his dad was mad at him.
You’d expect him to call you and tell you what happened but he didn’t.
Him going no contact for almost a week felt like forever, the only thing you knew from him were Pete’s texts tell you he’s not doing very well. Needless to say they just made the knot in your stomach grow bigger.
He finally decided to call you a couple of days before coming back. It wasn’t a long call, all that you could rescue from it was that he’s okay and he couldn’t wait to be back home. Nothing about the mission or his wingman.
It was a Saturday morning when he finally arrived back in Oregon, back home. Nick had spent all afternoon making a sign for his dad that read “Rooster” just like in his helmet.
“Mom help me hold it higher so he can see the sign I made”. You do your best in lifting him up, wrapping your arms around his stomach. He wasn’t that heavy for a six year old, but you had to admit you did struggle a little. “There he is! Dad!”
He looked tired– very tired. He had some bandages around his arm and from what you could tell he also had a limp on his right leg.
His pretty hazel eyes had some prominent eye bags below them that he was trying to hide under a black baseball cap, but managed to smile when he spotted you in the crowd of people.
As soon as Nick’s feet were in the ground again he ran straight to his dad giving him the biggest hug he could.
His hand takes Bradley’s walking him towards where you were standing. You see how his eyes tone down once he meets yours.
He didn’t waste no time, he’s holding you so close to him you could feel yourself melting into him. The only thing that runs through your head is Maverick saying that Rooster needs his family.
“Welcome home honey” you whispered to his ear and that made him hold you tighter.
“I missed you guys so much” you rubbed his back. He’s been gone for almost seven months, you could honestly stay like this for hours.
“Dad, did you see my sign?” Your son pulls on his arm to try and grab his full attention, you find it so adorable how he had to get on his tippy toes to reach it.
“I did see it, you made this?” He was holding the paper in his hands, lowering at Nick’s height. He nodded with pride and started to explain it to Bradley. “ Can I keep it?”
“Yeah, I made it for you”.
“I love it, thank you” He hugs him one more time before rolling it up so he can put it on his backpack “C’mere” he carries him all the way back to the car on his shoulders.
The car ride was unexpectedly quite enjoyable, you could tell that he was trying to avoid any question that had to do with his deployment, nonetheless he seemed to be his warm self, which was honestly a big relief, you were prepared to have him at his worse but here he is smiling and singing in your car without a care in the world.
If you didn’t know him any better you’d know how good he is at evading the actual problems, he hopes that you're not too mad at him.
He wasn’t ignoring you. He was tired and maybe that was the worst excuse he could ever give you but there was no way he could talk to you without breaking down, how could he ever tell you it’s his fault that someone is dead.
There are a lot of maybes he’s scared about and it feels so intimidating looking into your eyes and saying that he’s alright just a little bruised so that you don’t have to be worried about him, he doesn’t know how long is he going to be able to keep it up, last thing he wants is for you to be disappointed in him.
He makes conversation about how he likes the new changes you made to the house, he marks down the inch Nick grew in the past months, he helps with dinner and the dishes. He has to repeat to himself that everything is alright, everything is normal, but he can even bring himself out of the bathroom without his anxiety shooting to the roof.
Before he could allow his mind to overthink any further he opens the door, finding you putting his clothes away on his side of the closet. His heart beats faster every step he takes in your direction and reminds himself to loosen up, that you love him.
“Hey” He hugs you from behind leaving a sweet kiss on your temple. There were still some traces of the vanilla scent you used and that was his favorite on you.
“Hi” You turn wrapping your arms around his neck giving him a warm smile. His hands fall to your hips holding tightly.
You can tell he’s nervous, his thumbs draw circles on your skin and he bites the inside of his cheek. The way his eyes look at you starts to take you back to the hurt Bradley from when his mother passed away.
You hate that you feel sorry for him, it’s just one thing after the other for him, it’s like he can’t catch a break.
You close the distance hugging him as hard as you could “Hey, it’s alright. You’re home.” you whisper trying to make him feel better.
Most people would never guess how depressed Rooster could get, the way he would let himself spiral into the rabbit hole made it sometimes very hard to pull him out of it. And it cost you a lot to do it but he was worth it.
You’ve always tried to be a good wife to him, always tried to make sure he didn’t feel alone, even when you weren’t by his side you tried to give him a ground to stand on.
“What happened Bradley?” Your fingers running slowly through his hair. He remained silent pulling closer to him as if he was trying to keep you from running away from him.
You know he doesn’t want to answer you. Not yet at least.
“I love you” His beautiful hazel eyes look straight into yours now looking like they lost their warmth.
There is a knot in your chest growing and growing as you see how shattered your husband came back home to you.
“I love you so much Bradley”.
His lips join yours in a tender kiss where he lets himself go.
Your fingers brush the skin of his neck pulling him closer to your body. You clutched at his shoulders as he started to take a few steps back letting the back of your knees hit the edge of the bed.
“Fuck, I missed you” His tounge immediately made its way into your mouth. Your legs wrapped tightly around his body and you felt him grow inside his shorts.
His fingers were having a hard time unbuttoning your pyjama. You chuckled, helping him undo it after giving up moving to your shorts, his hands got lost under the waistband so that he could rub your clit over the fabric making you moan his name just in the way he missed it so much.
It takes you a second to return to your blouse revealing his favorite teal lingerie under it.
“You wore this just for me baby?” He takes the straps feeling the silky material on his fingers. You nod, taking your bottom in between your teeth. Tracing the embroidery on your breast he took the opportunity to squeeze and knead them. “How lucky am I”.
You run your hands across his chest under the cotton material, feeling his dogs tags. Pulling at his shirt but it only resulted in him pinning your hands above your head, lips joining yours so hungrily that not being able to run your fingers through his hair was enough to make you whine.
Leaning down trailing down between your breasts leaving tiny red marks along your skin. “Rooster”. He went crazy when you used his call sign during sex.
He wanted to taste you so badly, he’s been thinking about it for months. You watch as he throws you leg over his shoulders kissing and giving small bites to the inside of your thigh.
He goes for it, immediately going for your clit making you arch your back.
He holds you down firmly with one hand as the fingers of the other curl inside you. He sucks on your clit and flicks it with his tongue, the only thing you can do is grip his hair tighter pulling him closer to you.
His fingers working inside you boy made the pleasure bubble up on your lower stomach. He waits for you to cum even though he is about to explode inside his shorts.
“Shit, I’m so hard already” you pull him up palming him over the material, gasping at how sensitive he was.
“What are you waiting for then?”.
He had been dreaming of this moment every night for the past seven months. He missed your touch, your kisses, how you felt around him, how every time it feels better than the last time.
He missed his wife.
He held you against his chest all night. His hot breath caressing your ear and arm wrapping on your waist.
The days got better, Bradley has been taking care of Nick, making up for the lost time. You did have to admit having not to worry about your son every hour of the day was a huge relief.
Bradley’s nights had gotten worse the following weeks. Waking up in the middle of the night covered in sweat, panting, feeling more exhausted one night after the other.
He didn’t want to worry you, he was becoming a little too irritated at all times, being at home, with Nick, he wouldn’t speak too Maverick, he even was a little too rough during sex.
It’s like he wasn’t himself anymore.
There he was on top of you, the strands of his hair sticking to his forehead, eyes closed and lips parted.
His thrusts got to a point of getting too harsh making you feel uncomfortable instead of feeling pleasure. Your nails sinking into the skin of his shoulder blades as you’re trying to ignore how the discomfort turns into pain.
“Bradley…” it barely comes out as a whisper thanks to the pressure in your throat.
He groans in response, digging his fingers into your hip holding you steady for him.
“Bradley” it was a little louder this time but his mind was somewhere else “Slow down”.
Rooster was usually passionate but gentle, now matter how caught up he was he’d always make sure you were enjoying yourself as much as he was.
“Please Bradley”. You were trying not to freak out, but it wasn’t long before you'd let go of all the tears you were holding back. “You’re hurting me”.
You push his shoulders with the little strength you have left and finally manage to get his attention.
He stops. It finally stops.
He sees the tears running down your cheeks and how your hands are shaking over the skin of his chest. And your eyes, fuck your eyes, they looked so scared of him.
“Shit, shit, shit” What has he done? “I’m sorry, I’m sorry” He just now noticed that you're still trying to push him off you.
You let out a painful whimper when he finally pulled out. He spotted a bloodstain on the sheets right in between your thighs and the burning that your nails left on his shoulders.
What has he done?
“Baby I’m so sorry” Rooster wasn’t exactly sure if it was alright to go near you, he thought it was better to create some distance instead of forcing you to accept his touch. “I didn’t–”. He swallowed, not knowing what to say that wasn’t an apology. “Fuck, I didn’t mean– I’m sorry”
You wrap the sheets around your body as you make your way to the bathroom. Not once you look at him, the whole situation feels confusing, the only thing you want to do is clean the blood running down your thighs.
He calls your name on the other side of the door. He listens to everything, drawers opening, water running, you crying.
“I’m so sorry” he felt himself choking sitting next to the door trying to stay afloat. “I keep fucking everything up”.
You grab your robe before opening the door. You’re not mad at him, he means it when he says he’s sorry, he didn’t want to hurt you. He was hurting and the pit inside him is only getting bigger.
You sit next to him and he immediately wraps his arms around you looking for your forgiveness. “I’m so sorry”.
He’s crying. You haven’t seen him cry since he left for deployment when Nick was a couple of months old.
“I know, I know Bradley” His eyes fogged when you reached cupping his face caressing his cheeks with your thumbs. “But you need to talk to me. You need to stop acting like everything is alright”.
“I told him to take a left turn” His voice is shaky as he holds your hand.
“What?”.
“I didn’t see the bandits up ahead, they weren’t in the radar”. Words filled with so many emotions, tearing him apart. “They shot us down. He didn’t have time to eject” he finally opened up. “I heard him scream in the fire. I couldn’t help him.”
What could you possibly say to him? You had no idea it was this bad when Maverick called you that night.
“He had a kid…” That broke Rooster. There was a child somewhere that was going to grow up without his Dad. Just like he did, just like his own boy could’ve had if he wasn’t behind his wingman that day.
“Oh Bradley” You hugged him as he cried in your chest. Last time you were in this position it was when Nick’s cat died.
He cries with so much guilt and pain. He cries in the same way he did holding on to his mother’s hand when she passed in the hospital bed.
“It’s not your fault” You whispered “it could’ve happened to anybody” His fingers were digging in your skin again, not letting you go anywhere.
“Mom?” Nick’s body was half way into the room looking so worried he almost had a scared expression on his face.
“Everything is alright honey, go back to your room”.
Bradley stiffness in your arms. He doesn’t want his boy to see him like this. He’s supposed to be his hero, no kid should ever see his hero like this, right?
“What’s wrong with Dad?” His small hazel eyes can’t look away from his father. “Does he have a tummy ache?” He makes it a little further into the room only thinking of how to help his Dad. “I’ll go get some tums”. You hear his footsteps go all the way down to the kitchen opening up the pantry doors.
Rooster chuckles at his son’s innocence.
“I’m sorry” he says one more time before leaving a soft kiss on your lips.
“You don’t have to apologize to me, we’ll stay with you now matter what Bradley, nothing is changing that”. You wipe the tear that’s about to reach his lips and place a soft kiss on them.
Nick is back in no time, Bradley sits up and puts a smile on his face thanking his kid for taking care of him.
“Here daddy” Rooster opens his palm letting the tables fall on his hand “I got you two because you're bigger than me”.
“Thank you” Rooster takes a hand to his hair, messing it up a little more than it already is “You mind keeping an eye on me tonight?” He hugs his son, he hugs him knowing that every single second with him matters more than he thinks.
“Only if you promise to throw up in the bathroom”.
“I promise” his pinky intertwines with Bradley’s.
He takes care of the bed before he lets you both go on it, taking care of the previous sheets.
No nightmares just him and the people he loved the most.
4K notes · View notes
stcverogers · 1 year
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TOP GUN FIC RECS 5!
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top gun fics that i’ve been reading and obsessing with over recently
this is extremely important and i take this very seriously out of respect for the community. please do remember to read the rules for the respective blogs before interacting with or reading them.
F: fluff A: angst S: smut
𖥻 - series /multi part
masterlist
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JAKE 'HANGMAN' SERESIN
F + A: the longer that you stay, the ice is melting by @welcome-to-my-multiverse you have walls built around yourself from the hurt you had experiences in the past. jake breaks them all down.
F: dinner and domesticity by @sehnsuchts-trunken all you want after a long day at work is to spend time with jake.
F: sunshine by @call-sign-jinx you're jake's biggest secret in the best way possible.
F + A: abs sans brain by @sometimes-i-write-good you would think that the amount of time jake spends with his work friends that he'd rather spend date night with you alone
F + A: don't make the same mistake by @agentrose17 jacob seresin is a coward. to save himself the heartbreak, he runs.
F: the doll house by @honeybeedewdrops jake flew million dollar jets for a living and still couldn't build a barbie dreamhouse
A: a glimpse of us by @call-sign-jinx jake will forever be haunted by what happened years ago
F + A: who are you? + part 2 by @thewulf you move to fightertown in hopes of comfort from you aunt penny after you and your fiance break it off. in a sea full of naval aviators, you meet jake.
F: i caught you by @roosterbruiser jake will always be there to catch you
F + A: mamas (don’t let your babies grow up to be cowboys) by @almostgenerallyalways you and jake have long broken up. he tries to reconnect every holiday season but you choose to ignore him. you can't quite do that when he's at your front door.
F + A: sleepy baby by @discount-shades 𖥻 if i weren't for you therapist, there was no way you'd be out late at night in a bar.
F + A: rescued + part 2 by @topgunslut you nearly drown by the beach but jake saves you
F: even if you lose it, it will find you by @lovestruckdeans though you and jake may have gone your seperate ways, you find your way back to each other.
A: what are we? by @andorskenobi four months of stringing you along and you were tired of it. you give jake an ultimatum.
F + A: perfect storms by @captainamericasmotercycle jake loves you because you're you. not because you're the admiral's daughter or whatever coyote wants to make you believe.
S: jealousy, jealousy by @seresinsbabe jealous of him and his coworker, you decide that it was your turn to make jake jealous.
F + A: i see myself with you by @penwieldingdreamer you meet jake again, this time, he dons a khaki uniform.
F: boyfriend material by @beautifultypewriter you and jake had a thing. if you were on a bad date, you'd text him and he'd show up, sweeping you away.
F: roadside assistance by @lostdreamr-blog1 your car breaks down in the middle of the road and you have no choice but to call your last resort for help.
F + A: it only feels this raw right now by @teamhappyme your time with the navy has come to an end while yours with jake is only beginning.
F: sittin' on the dock of the bay by @theloveoftoms a day on the beach with jake seresin.
F: brave by @arson-tm you are the only person jake shows his true self to.
F: your carriage awaits, sweets by @lazypeachsoul jake loved you so much. so much so that he'd willingly carry you home when you're drunk off your mind.
F: coffee for mrs. seresin? by @birdy-bat-writes jake orders your coffee for you. when your order is called, you're utterly surprised.
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BRADLEY 'ROOSTER' BRADSHAW
F: pretty in pink by @roostersforevergirl if rooster wants to join his daughter's tea party, he must dress the part.
F + A: the parent trap by @averagewriter-inthedark you and rooster crashed and burn. despite the relationship ending, something beautiful bloomed from it. in a mutual agreement, one will grow up with you while the other rooster.
F: hold my hand by @wannabeschyulersister it's mav and penny's birthday. you somehow find yourself riding a mechanical bull.
F: bradley and the bump by @justmyheart bradley lets his girl know how much he loves his other girl.
F: beautiful by @eyesthatroll you can see glimpses of carole in bradley
F: mary's song by @risriswrites bradley bradshaw is hopelessly in love with his best friend. if only she felt the same.
F: i'm obsessed with you by @simpforrooster jake can't bear to see rooster pine over you for a single second longer
A: till death? by @cherrycola27 you meant what you said in your wedding vows that you'd love bradley till death do you part.
F: my reward by @susanripper rooster doesn't know how to tie a tie. now, you can't let that happen can you?
F: picture in my pocket by @worldofheroes if there's anyone who would understand what you feel, it's rooster
F: a little pinch by @tongue-like-a-razor it's time for your daughter to have her shots but it seems like rooster is more nervous than she is
A: trainwreck by @callsign-cree you knew that you and rooster were too good to true. it was time you finally confirmed it.
S: short stack by @spacecaravan something about you making him breakfast makes rooster insatiable for you.
S: return the favor by @sonofarathorn being a dad was a good look on bradley.
F: beautiful boy by @aestheticpearl baby bradshaw has a nightmare, something bradley can relate to too well.
F: i'm goin' for a run by @feralforfrank rooster wants to say goodbye before going on his run
F: a wedding to remember and a proposal to come by @sehnsuchts-trunken during mav and penny's wedding, you and rooster realise that maybe a wedding of your own was in the cards.
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ROBERT 'BOB' FLOYD
F: baby. on. board by @mymamalife baby on board has his own baby on board
F + A: one beer + just another day in paradise by @lgg5989 having a baby at a young age was not part of yours and bob's plans.
F: do we have to? by @auroradawnwrites unlike bob, all you want to do is stay home.
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JAVY 'COYOTE' MACHADO
F: in which it’s far too cold for your liking, but Javy can think of a few ways to warm up by @spidervee
F: the waiting by @rae-gar-targaryen javy knows that you're more than capable of doing things yourself but can't he just pamper his pregnant wife in peace?
F: cancelled flights and beignets by @siempre-bucky javy's flight home is cancelled. you make beignets to cure some of his homesickness.
F: the first 'i love you' by @demxters you didn't need javy to tell you he loved you for you to know that he did. so when he finally said those three words, you weren't surprised.
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NICHOLAS 'GOOSE' BRADSHAW
F: you know why by @thewhiskersonkittens it didn't matter that you had a jerk of an ex, goose proves that he's twice the man he could ever be
2K notes · View notes
fandomxpreferences · 1 year
Text
You’re All I Care About
Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x female!reader
Summary: Bradleys world is almost flipped upside down when he receives a terrifying call from you. (Based off this post) 
TW: car accident, angst, mentions of blood, swearing, fluff
Word Count: 1.7k
A/N: I’m not really pleased with how this turned out but I also don't have the motivation to rewrite it so blah
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You blink your eyes a few times trying to take in your surroundings. The first thing you register is the blaring horn and the smell of blood. You know that you've just been T-boned but you don't know how bad it is. The other car must have run because you're alone in the middle of the four-way stop. You're not on a popular road so there are no other cars around to help. 
The first thing you think to do is call Bradley. You know he'll get here faster than any first responders. Your heart drops when you realize that you're in his bronco. Your car was in the shop having some work done, so he had insisted you drive it. You don't stay stuck on the thought for long, digging for your phone.
The impact had spun the truck around and everything went flying. You spot your cell on the passenger side floorboard and reach to grab it. It takes you a minute to get your hands on it, having to be mindful of the shattered glass covering the car. Once it's in your hands, you press Bradley's contact and lean back with your eyes closed. 
Bradley's at your shared home laughing with Jake and Nat when his phone rings. He smiles when he sees your contact photo and answers, pressing the phone to his ear. His face drops when he hears a car horn blasting and you don't greet him. The two pilots notice his change in demeanor and sit up with concern written on their features. 
"Y/N?" He tries and his heart plummets when you don't respond. He tries again, this time louder and you finally answer. "Bradley," you breathe and he stands up when he hears the tears and panic in your voice. "I'm sorry about your Bronco."
His eyes widen when he realizes the horn is coming from his truck. "Baby where are you?" He's already grabbing Jake's keys and sprinting out the door. Jake and Nat are hot on his tail, not bothering to ask any questions. Bradley's reaction is all they need to know. You give him your location and he stays on the phone with you. 
"I'm only a couple minutes away, baby. Are you hurt?" His stomach twists in anticipation of your answer. Your head hurts but you're not in any severe pain. "I don't think so. My head hurts, but that's it." You tell him and he breathes a little easier. 
"Okay, honey. Are the paramedics there yet?" He doesn't hear any sirens and wonders how long ago this happened. He's going 80 in a 55 and it won't take him much longer to get to you. You chuckle to yourself as you answer. "No, you're the first person I called."
Bradley's eyebrows furrow and he turns to Jake. "Call an ambulance." His friend looks at him baffled for a second. "Now." His voice is more urgent this time and Jake pulls out his phone to call 911. 
The truck skids to a stop as they pull up to the accident. Phoenix gasps and covers her mouth and Jake is in complete disbelief. He's still on the phone with the operator and he tells them to hurry. Bradley feels like he's going to throw up as he bolts out of the truck, barely putting it in park. 
His bronco is completely crushed in on the driver's side and glass is littered across the road. All of the airbags are deployed and he falters when he sees blood. 
He hasn't even seen you yet, but if the condition of his truck is any indication, it isn't good. He makes it to you and he runs his hands through his hair in a panic, unsure of what to do. All of his military training has flown out the window. 
He’s brought back when he sees Jake try to wrench the door open. He helps him pull a couple of times but it's pinned shut. "Hey, flyboy." He hears your sweet voice and forces himself to look at you. 
He feels a lump form in his throat and he reaches toward your head. You have blood dripping down the side of your face, but other than that you don't look too beat up. 
There are definitely some cuts from the glass and probably bruises from the seatbelt locking up, but it could be worse. He knows your head is the most concerning injury. The way you're bleeding there's no way you didn't hit it, but you seem aware of your surroundings and have your usual teasing tone.
Bradley runs around to the passenger side and opens the door. He climbs in ignoring the shards digging into him and leans over to check your pulse. He can hear the sirens approaching and calms down just enough to talk. "Hey, baby. We're gonna get you out of here but I need you to try and keep your head still until they can check you out okay?" 
You hum in acknowledgment just as the ambulance and police cars arrive at the scene. Bradley is pulled back by Jake as the paramedics start asking questions and working on you. He pulls against the restraint and Nat finally gets out of the truck and rushes over. She stands in from of him and places a gentle hand on his arm. "Let them work, Bradley."
He stops fighting and deflates into the man behind him. He feels the adrenaline start to fade and hot tears prick at his eyes. He scrubs his hands over his face trying to compose himself as a paramedic walks up to him. 
"She's stable, but were transporting her to the hospital to check for head trauma and internal injuries. Do one of you want to ride in the back with her?" Bradley immediately steps forward and the paramedic nods, leading him to the ambulance. 
He climbs in and takes your hand. You look significantly better with a bandage on your head and a woman is working on disinfecting your cuts. You look over at him the best you can with the neck brace and within seconds tears are rolling off your face. He leans forward and kisses your forehead. "It's okay, baby. You're okay."
You look up at him and his heart shatters at the fear in your eyes. "I'm so sorry about the bronco, Bradley. I promise I'll pay for whatever damage if it can even be fixed." He shakes his head in disbelief and grasps both of your hands In his. 
'Listen to me. I don't give two fucks about that right now. All I care about is you being okay. I'll deal with all that later." You blink and another tear cascades down your cheek. "But it means so much to you."
Bradley closes his eyes and a tear slips out. He leans down to rest his head on top of your interlocked hands and takes a shaky breath. "Nothing in this world means more to me than you. A car can be replaced, you can't. Sure I'm devastated, but not nearly as devastated as I would be if something had happened to you."
Truthfully Bradley doesn't know if he could ever get behind the wheel of his bronco again, even if it is salvageable. Anytime he goes to drive it, he'll only be able to picture you stuck behind the wheel covered in blood and glass. 
It's silent for a few minutes and before you know it, you're being admitted to the hospital. Jake and Nat arrive with the ambulance and join Bradley in the waiting room. The staff whisks you away immediately to do some scans and all they can do is wait. 
After what seemed like days but in reality, was only an hour and a half, a doctor comes out and calls your name. The three of them shoot up and race forward. "How is she?" The doctor glances at the chart to confirm and then looks back up at your boyfriend.
"She's just fine. She has a cut on her head that required a few stitches and some scrapes and bruises, but nothing severe. All of her scans came back clear. She does have a mild concussion, the nurse will explain how to proceed with that." 
Bradley feels a rush of relief followed by a sob clawing up his throat. He didn't realize just how terrified he was. He runs a hand down his face and nods. "Thank you. Can I see her?" The man nods and tells him a room number before walking away. 
Bradley all but sprints to your room and almost collapses when he can see that you're really okay with his own two eyes. You're sitting up on the side of the bed talking to a nurse when your eyes land on him. You give him a bright smile and he feels his heart flutter. Even in blood-stained clothes, you manage to steal his breath. 
He lurches forward and hugs you before pulling back and giving you a gentle yet desperate kiss. It's filled with all of the emotion he's been reeling in since you called him and you taste salty wetness. You pull back and reach up to wipe his tears before kissing the corners of his eyes. 
"Everything is okay. I'm okay. They're finishing up the paperwork and then you can take me home." Bradley doesn't say anything, he just nods in understanding. 
An hour later, you're in Jake's truck on the way home. Bradley sits in the backseat with you, absentmindedly rubbing circles on your inner thigh. Once you're home he helps you inside, and you both wave goodbye to Jake and Nat. 
You make your way over to the couch and plop down with a sigh. "Can we cuddle and watch movies?" You ask with a small pout and Bradley leans down to kiss your head. 
"Of course. Let me go pop some popcorn while you find something to put on." You nod and smile. "We both know we're watching Legally Blonde, babe." The pilot laughs and shakes his head, trying to pretend he doesn't love that movie as much as you do. "You and your chick flicks."
An hour later, you're curled up in his arms snoring softly. He looks down at you and takes in your features. He commits your face to memory, noting how peaceful you look. He doesn't bother disturbing you, instead laying his head back and closing his eyes as well. Today scared the shit out of him, but as long as you're here in his arms he knows you're safe and sound.
Taglist:
@drakelover78​
3K notes · View notes
enditen · 9 months
Text
birds of a feather
summary: a bit of understandable anger toward your fiancé for— in your eyes— unwise decisions leads to hurt feelings and avoidance. thankfully, the two of you come back together in the most interesting of places.
word count: 4090ish.
rating: m
warnings: public sexual acts. talk of death ( rooster's, goose's and carole's ). angst. two adults being stubborn fools. talk about breasts. talk about ruining hawaiian shirts and dress whites. kind of playing around with naval deployments and what not.
pairing: bradley ( rooster ) bradshaw x female reader ( callsign vulture )
author's note: hi, first fic in this fandom that was simply supposed to be hot titty fucking with a title of a tit for a cock and then turned into 4k of angst then some titty fucking. some of you might recognize me from another fandom on here on tumblr to which if you do, hi y'all. also i feel like i missed tags and i'm sorry about that. assuming i write more for this because i've gotten over my nervousness i'll learn. and special thanks to @blurredcolour for being a little cheerleader
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You’re beginning to wonder if there’s just something about Maverick that just turns everyone around him a bit stupid. You like to think that most of the team surrounding your fiancé aren’t idiots and yet there you were being proven completely wrong as you listened to Bradley explain what exactly had happened on the mission.

“That’s not what he meant when he said don’t think!” You remembered screaming into the phone, knowing fully well that while Mav was his own special brand of stupid- and deliriously lucky he wasn’t the same level of pure unadulterated idiocy Bradley was displaying.
“It worked out!” Was somehow his raspy defense and it had taken all your self control to not hang up the phone right then and there, the sheer unmitigated aggravation seeping through your pores As it stood, what you did end up doing was letting out the world’s most put upon sigh as you rolled your eyes.

“You’re just lucky Mav didn’t have to bury another bird.” At Rooster’s sharp inhale you started to speak again. “I didn’t mean it— I’m just—”

“No. I get it, Vulture,” he spat out your callsign, a definite sign that he’s pissed and you had struck a nerve you honestly shouldn’t have right in that moment before you heard something in the background. “You don’t have to come get me, I’ll get home fine.”

The silence after he hung up feels almost as all consuming as the idea of him dying was.
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It’s always been a thing that when one of you comes back from deployment or from a mission or from visiting friends who are stationed somewhere else that you pick one another up. Some of your friends call it silly, but for you and Rooster it works. You’ve always wanted to be together all the time but at the same time— when opportunities present themselves you’ve never been the type to ignore them. Hell, even if you wanted to, the other one would just argue against ignoring the opportunity. That’s why you found yourself here, waiting for Rooster to come back from what should have been a mission he didn’t come back from. What was almost a mission he didn’t come back from. You wonder if this is how his mom felt with his father and if the reason she never wanted him to become a pilot like this is to avoid anyone else having her fate. You see Rooster walking with Hangman and are about to lean out of the car to tell him to get his ass in the car before he sees you through your windshield. The look he gives you is one of aggravation and hurt that you’ve so rarely seen on his face that it practically pins you to your seat in the car. You've seen those brown eyes look at you with so much love and you've made jokes comparing them to warm chocolate more than once but in this moment— all they do is remind you of a hardened and unbreakable tree.

He shakes his head before turning to keep talking to Hangman, laughing at some probable dumb joke the man said and you swear your stomach drops through the floor of the car. You hadn’t thought he was serious about not wanting you to come get him and here he was getting into someone else’s car to go— home? Maybe, or maybe he was going to crash on Hangman’s couch or find— no. No, for all that Rooster was angry with the slip of your tongue he would never cheat on you. He loves you in a way that makes other people sick and makes Maverick and Penny tell you that yeah, you kind of remind them of his dad and Carole.

Still, he’s never been this angry at you and that terrifies you in ways that you can’t put into words. You’ve flown dangerous missions that didn’t terrify you as much as the look on Rooster’s face did right in that moment. After what feels like hours, but is only really ten minutes you pull out of the area you were parked in and head home. You don’t realize Hangman hasn’t left and that Rooster watches you leave from his side of the truck. 

“She couldn’t have done anything that bad, man.” Jake tries to reason as he puts the truck in reverse. 

“You don’t know her like I do," he scoffs, shaking his head and slipping on his aviators. "I forgot why she’s called Vulture. Just— Just drive.”
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You suppose it's a mercy that you see Rooster the next morning, making coffee as if he didn't break your tradition with one glance through a car windshield. Suppose you should be thankful he's back home and in your kitchen and not back home in a casket, but you've never been one to allow yourself simple pleasures like that when you're hurt. When your heart's twisted into the version of itself that only releases anger and toxic fumes to push away everyone you hold dear.

That anger has your mouth moving before your brain can catch up and make you see sense. All you know is that the man you love hasn't said one word to you since that phone call and he's only making one cup of coffee and not two. Another tradition broken and you can only see red.

"Are you ignoring me?" You ask the moment he turns around, sipping his coffee without seemingly a care in the world.

Bradley isn't necessarily the more verbose out of the two of you, but he's never particularly short with you. Today is the exception, much like everything about the past two days.

"No." A pause as he sets down his coffee cup and you see a bit of coffee clinging to his upper lip and that stupid little mustache you've grown to love over the years. "Maybe."

"Maybe," you parrot, moving over to where he's standing and watching as he moves just far enough away to allow you to grab your own cup and your own specific pod to make your coffee. "You nearly die, I say something stupid and now you're acting like a moody teenager. Cute, Roo."

Roo. Not even Rooster and certainly not his name because he certainly doesn't deserve it in this moment. You watches as his eyes drift over your body, noting how you're wearing one of his favorite Hawaiian shirts with the top buttons unbuttoned, revealing skin that normally he'd have covered in kisses a thousand times over since he returned last night. Instead it's unmarred by his lips and teeth and you're as vicious as can be. Two can play that game. Two can be childish.

"I'm sorry, something stupid. No— no, you didn't say something stupid. You said something cruel. That's a big difference, babe. One is normal, the other is you reminding me that I could have left you alone just like my mom was. Like that didn't go through my head. Like Maverick didn't tell me that much while we were heading back. "

A laugh erupts from deep inside your chest as you turn to look at Rooster. "Did it really go through your head? Did you think I'm throwing away my life with Vulture because I need to save someone who ruined parts of my life? Or did your brain get scrambled from the G's?"

You watch as eyes that you love start to fill with something resembling tears as his hand clenches the coffee cup. He loves you, he knows that to be a simple fact. He loves you. His father loved him and his mother. Mav loves him and loved his father and his mother. And you love him. In this moment though, that last one feels like a joke, feels like a dagger twisting in his chest. Maybe you don't love him if this is what you want to spew at him. You're a woman who should have had a callsign of Viper but only gets Vulture because you can handle things other people couldn't. You take care of things other people wouldn't or couldn't. He supposes you taking on all of those things is what makes you the way you are.

"It's what my dad would have done," he forces the words out and tries to not cry because you know what that means to him. You know know better than anyone. "I was his wingman."

"And what about my wingman, Bradley?" Your question comes out softer than you mean it to even as you slam your coffee pod into the machine. Somehow tears start to tease the edge of your eye line. "You were just going to leave me without mine. You really are your father's son. Guess I should be happy we don't have a little you running around. That's a little too on the nose."

The slam of the coffee cup startles you more than anything you've thought was possible in that moment and yet without missing a beat you turn to face Rooster once again in time for you to see angry tears falling from his eyes. "I'm not doing this. You're— I didn't leave you. You're not having to bury me and you're not having to be by my side as I bury the closest thing I have to a father now. That is what should matter. Not what I did. What I know you would have done for some people. What you'd have done for Phoenix alone. I'm here in our kitchen wearing my engagement ring and you're just wearing my shirt and not sobbing into it because it's the closest thing that smells like me. Let it go." He takes a moment to take a shaky breath and starts to move toward you. "I made a mistake but I don't regret it. Let. It. Go."

If you were younger, if you were the same girl Rooster met all those years ago you'd have taken your ring off and slammed it on the counter right next to his coffee cup in a fit of anger. You're older now, same as Bradley and you stop yourself even as your hand inches toward your ring finger. Bradley's always been taller than you unless you're in heels and it forces you to look up at him. "You forget who you're wanting to marry, Bradshaw. I'm— I'm not letting this go. Just— you know what, sleep on the couch, do whatever. I don't care— you're not sleeping in our bed. Especially if you want to act like I meant to say what I said in the first place. You want to ignore me? Fine. Then do that."

You see Bradley's jaw tense, and watch the way it moves as you normally would enjoy before he speaks. "Wasn't planning on sleeping there for a while anyway. Enjoy your coffee, Y/N."
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Ever since you had started dating, you and Bradley had talked every single day. No matter the fight, no matter what happened between you two you would never let something like this drag on for so long. Life was short after all and you two were both vividly aware of that.

This time though, this time it drags on for two weeks and you have a half right mind to stand in front of Bradley until he talks until you realize from how even Phoenix looks at you while at the Hard Deck that it wouldn't help. It truthfully might make things worse. So you let him stew and he lets you stew. You miss him and you like to think he misses you but you're both very stubborn people who know how to hold grudges with the best of them.

It's strange, ignoring someone you love in your own house but sometimes you'd like to argue that you and Bradley are strange people. Normal most of the time but with those small little scars inside and out that make you do strange things. Strange things like make sure your dress whites are ready to go the day of what you think is a ceremony— honestly you hadn't paid attention for once to the notice. That's what you do with someone you love and someone you care about— not someone you're still so angry with that it hurts to talk to them.

You arrive separately to questioning looks from most of the Dagger Squad and Maverick but you both shrug and smile them off even as you stay apart most of the night. What you both don't realize is that the other is sneaking glances when one of you looks away. Your eyes take in the man who you think— you hope— is still going to be your future husband and bemoan the fact that he can't wear this uniform everywhere. There's something special about seeing him all dressed in white and looking every bit a dashing naval aviator.

His eyes? Oh, his eyes take in the woman he knows he's still going to marry if one of you would just break already. They take in you in white which you hate wearing because it shows off everything and stains and all those silly things you say. They take in how your jacket contains your chest but how the buttons strain just a little and how he knows that you're probably wearing a lace bra that he loves underneath it. He knows how that bra feels against his hands when he cups your breasts and squeezes them in his hands. Your chest is a work of art sometimes— all the time really and he hasn't touched in over two weeks.

Jake is the one who notices how Bradley's eyes haven't left you for a few minutes and notices how he's shifting in place— fidgeting in a way he's never seen him.

"She's been staring at you too," the blonde chuckles. "This is— This is every bad high school dance and military ball I've ever been to rolled into one. Go over to her, Rooster. Stop pining, man."

Bradley wants to defend himself but he turns to look at you again only to catch your eyes and how they slide down his body before stopping at his crotch and— he finds most logic and sense goes out the window. Like two magnets drawn to one another you both find yourselves by each other's sides, with hands grazing each other's hips.

"I—" He starts before you shake your head.

"I was being cruel. You've— We both know I get like that and I was terrified, Bradley. I saw our lives flashing before my eyes the second I found. It was gone in an instant. That doesn't excuse—" Your words are cut off with a soft kiss that you're both endlessly thankful no one sees.

"Babe. Trust me, I know I was an idiot and that same vision you had? Yeah, you weren't the only one. I swear I heard my mom and my dad yelling at me." His words are soft as he nuzzles his nose against yours, laughing softly when you scrunch up your nose because of his mustache. "I'm sorry."

You sniffle a little, partially to prevent a sneeze from his mustache hair and to cover up the fact that you're a little emotional. "I'm sorry too." You take a moment to look up meet his eyes only to see how his eyes are trained on your breasts. "Lieutenant Bradshaw, are you staring at my boobs in public? At a function?"

You watch as a light dusting of color reaches his cheeks before he bites his lips. "And if I am?"

A breath leaves your mouth slowly as you move the hand that's been on his hip toward the front of his dress pants, giggling softly at the slight hardness you feel. "I'd say you should stop unless you want me to take care of this in the bathroom."

His eyes dart around the room checking to see if anyone will notice you're both gone for a bit before he laughs. "Meet you there in five?"

You practically give yourself minor whiplash as you nod quickly. "Can I keep the bra on?"

His groan almost gives the two of you and your plans away.
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The great thing, you think, about this bra, is that it makes it so easy to have Bradley stick his cock in between your breasts without taking it off. You know by the end he'll want it off, want to squeeze your breasts as he slides his cock in between them but in the beginning he's fine with this.

"I missed my girls," he groans as you press your arms against the side of your chest, pushing your breasts together even more. "Should— Should've gotten over myself and fucked you in my shirt that morning."

"You would have gotten come on your favorite Hawaiian shirt, Bradley," you try to reason with him even as your voice takes on an airy sort of quality the quicker your fingers move in between your legs. You should have taken off your pants but you realize it's a little too late for that now.

"We're probably getting come on our dress whites, babe." It's a joke but one that's likely very true from the way you can see his cock pulse and from the way your fingers— even through the articles of clothing you're wearing sound so obscene as they squelch and slide between your folds. "Would've made it better. Fuck, swear this bra does something to your tits."

"It's a bra? A dressy one? That's the point?" You can't help but giggle as he moves faster, his cock gilding against the soft skin of your breasts. "You getting close baby?"

"Lil bit," he grunts out, his hand moving to try and grasp at one of your nipples. "You wanna free them? Let your nipples join in on the fun?"

"You just wanna smear them with precome, Bradshaw, you're not slick." It's not a no, and your hands move to start undoing your bra even as you look up and see Bradley with the dumbest smirk you've ever seen him have. "Why are you—"

"You're slick though," he pulls his cock out from between your breasts and bends down to kiss you as your bra releases your breasts. "Bad—"

"Bad dirty dad joke," you cut him off with a fond shake of your head. "At least wait until we have a little birdy before you stoop that low."

A shrug is the only answer you get as he lines his cock up with your breasts and waits for you to press them together before saying a single phrase. "Sorry. It's in my blood."

You look up at him through your eyelashes and sigh, ignoring how your heart twists a little at the faked twinkle in those brown eyes of his. Instead you bend your head down just a little to lick a small kitten lick at the head of his cock. "Doomed to those jokes for the rest of my life as Mrs. Bradshaw. What have I done?"

A shudder ripples through him at your lick and he has to force himself to not come right then and there all over your perfectly made up face. He wants to though, wants to see you debauched like you should have been the second he came home and was alive and in your arms. He should have painted your face white. Should have made it so there was a stain on his favorite shirt that he'd wear proudly because it'd tell everyone how needy you two were for each other. It'd remind everyone that he's taken by the most vicious, intelligent, and vivacious woman he's ever met. It'd remind him that you missed him that much that you couldn't bear to be apart from some part of him for too long.

He didn't though and he can't right now but tonight when you're home and laying across your shared bed maybe he can do it then and watch as your lips try and lick bits off your face. The image he paints in his mind is something else and it has him clenching the fabric of your jacket before his own hands move to play with the tops of your breasts. The action earns a low whine from you, wanting more of his large hands on you, his thumbs playing with your nipples as he kisses you. You two have to make this quick though and it shows in how Bradley's thrusts increase in speed and how he motions for you to do something— anything— with your boobs and your hands until you finally catch onto his meaning.

"You are so boob drunk, Bradley," you mutter as your hand wraps around the part of his cock not between your breasts. With every thrust up you manage a lick or two just to tease him until you see his thrusts getting messier and less controlled.

A breathless low chuckle leaves him. "Nah, just you drunk. Fuck, babe, Y/N. I'm— let him go. Gonna—"

"Cum on them. Just cum on them. I'll wipe it off."

You look up with all the confidence in the world to see him with blown out pupils and a wet lips from where he's bitten them to keep quiet. "You su—" You cut him off with an almost violent nod that has the head of his cock brushing your chin as he does. "Okay okay."

What happens next is a flurry of limbs and grunts and low whines from you and Bradley as you chase your respective highs. Bradley comes first, hips stuttering, painting your chest with his cum, pearly white and just uncontrolled enough that some lands on your lips and chin and another bit lands on your dress shirt, narrowly avoiding your jacket. Your name falls from his lips easily as you look up at him, your fingers curling just so inside of you as he reaches out to cup your cheek his brown eyes so full of love, arousal and adoration that you come with a silent cry, your body threatening to fall forward from the sheer intensity but his strong hands are there to stop you.

You both lean back— him against the wall and you on your knees- catching your breath before he moves to grab paper towels, wetting them just enough for you to clean his release off of you. He embarrassingly lets out something close to a childish whine as he watches you lick the traces of come off your lips until you raise an eyebrow at him and his hardening cock.

"When we get home." You both manage to say at the same time before letting out matching peals of laughter. After a moment where you both can't keep a straight face Bradley starts to tuck himself inside his dress pants and you start to button your shirt back up before he pulls you up with an ease that marvels you even to this day. You feel the warmth of his large hand through your shirt as he straightens it out, making sure it's regulation ready. He winces at the slight stain of his come near your shoulder before remembering you still have to get your jacket on. His hands make quick work of the buttons and he notes with pride the only sliver of come one can see is easily explained away as water.

You can't help but bite your lip at Bradley when you see him looking down at you, inspecting his handiwork. Almost as if he realizes you're staring he meets your eyes and smiles this stupid half smile that makes his mustache look far cuter than it has any right to be and has his eyes dancing with mirth.

"Come on Lieutenant Bradshaw, they're gonna notice if we stay here," he tries to school his face into something resembling a serious look before he chuckles softly.

"Aye aye, Lieutenant Bradshaw." A pause. "You can't call me by your last name yet, you know."

He shrugs, unlocking the door as he wraps his arm around your waist. "I almost died. I can do it if I want. Besides, saw your thighs tense up."

You tamp down on the urge to slap his arm playfully as your own arm moves to snake around his waist. "You're lucky I love you."

"Yeah,' he stops right before you reach the door to reenter the hall and presses you just lightly against the wall. "I love you too."
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mothdruid · 1 year
Text
Home for the Holidays
pairing: bradley "rooster" bradshaw x reader
summary: Bradley might have lied about having a girlfriend. His best friend, you, decide to help him out and go home for the holidays with him. As the trip unfolds, so does your and Bradley's feelings for one another.
wc: 19.2k
warning: 18+, mdni, fluff, mild angst, smut, slow burn, pet names (babe), fake dating, kissing, unprotected sex, penetrative sex (p in v), oral sex (afab receiving), vaginal fingering, drinking (reader gets drunk), crying, bob being a good friend
a/n: hello! it's finally here!!!! thank you all for being patient with me while i finished this up
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"You did what?" It was shocking, hearing Bradley word vomit every bad decision he made in the past two days. Seeming as how they all included you without your knowledge.
"It was an accident." Bradley said, lips in a slight downturn as he wrapped a hand around the back of his neck. 
"That is not an accident, Bradley. It's a fucking lie." You looked at him in disbelief. This was much much worse than just an accident. You turned and started walking away from him, but alas, he followed you. 
"It's not like you're doing anything for the holidays." Bradley pleaded. 
"You don't know that." You arrived at your office, sitting in your desk chair quickly.  
"Actually, I do ‘cause you told me last week you were planning on staying at home, getting wine drunk while watching Face Off." You glared at him, hating the fact he had such an impeccable memory. Bradley leaned against your desk, staring down at you while adjusting his reading glasses. 
"I'm not your girlfriend though. How will your family feel when they find that out?" Bradley rolled his eyes. He made a wave of his hand in the air.
"They won't find out. Come on, we both took intro to acting in college, it won't be hard to fake it." 
"Bradley, what did you tell them? Like explain it all word for word." 
"Already did tha-"
"No, you word vomited." He huffed this time. 
"Fine. Mav asked me if I was bringing anyone home. I told him I wasn't sure if I was coming home. Amelia then teased me about being alone and maybe my pride got the best of me." It was your turn to let out a huff. 
"That's an understatement." 
"So, then I said that I would be coming home, and bringing my girlfriend." Bradley looked at you with puppy dog eyes.
"Which is apparently me." You crossed your arms over your chest, leaning back into your chair. 
"Yes." A soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips. 
"You owe me a big favor if I do this." Bradley smiled at your reply.
“I’ll do all your extra paperwork for a month.” The offer was tempting, but you knew it wouldn’t fully make up for this. 
It wasn’t that you didn’t know Bradley’s family, or at least what he had left of it. His biological parents had passed away when he was young, leaving his god-parents to take care of him. You had met Pete and Penny during your college graduation. They were extremely kind people, inviting you out for a celebration dinner afterwards. But that was partially why you were nervous, they knew you on a surface level. 
You had never met Amelia, only hearing about her through Bradley and seeing pictures. Bradley adored the girl, talking about her like a sister. Which wasn’t too far off. It was his god-daughter. Reminding you that Bradley’s ‘family’ wasn’t his biological family, not that it made a difference. They treated him as if he was their own, which was all that mattered. 
“Bradley, I’ll have to think about it.” 
After a few days to mull it over you decided to go. Even making a pros and cons list to help you decide. Bradley was ecstatic, sending you back a thumbs up and smiley blushing emoji. He then sent you a longer text explaining the plans for the trip. 
The office would close on the 22nd of December, allowing you guys to fly out on the 23rd. Then you wouldn’t be returning home until December 31st. You two would be flying out to Michigan, the state where Penny and Pete had raised Bradley. Which also happened to be where the two of you attended university together. It was truly a beautiful state, one that you missed a little bit. The winters were something you never fully got used to, but who ever gets used to a winter like that. 
-
The plane ride to Michigan wasn’t bad, only a two hour flight. Bradley picked up a rental car after landing so the two of you would be able to drive wherever. Pete and Penny lived around where ‘up north’ started. It was a smaller town close to the city you two went to university at. So, it was pertinent that the two of you had a car to go places whenever you wanted. The two of you loaded your luggage into the back of the car, silently praising that Bradley was smart enough to get an SUV for the trip. You made sure you grab your blanket out of your bag before settling into the passenger seat. 
“Two hours?” You asked while you placed your blanket over your legs. 
“It’s the same drive from when we were in college.” Bradley stated as he sat in the driver seat, placing the key in the ignition. You adjusted your heating settings, switching your side to max heat while Bradley adjusted his to a low heat. 
“Bradley, it’s been years since I’ve been here.” He relaxed back into the seat, shifting the gear in the center console before leaving the lot. You watched as he smiled and used one hand on the wheel, the other still resting on the gear. 
“This will be a fun refresher trip then.” Bradley said as he looked at you before focusing back on the road. 
“There is a reason why I left Michigan, you too.” White man-made hills of snow were everywhere, reminding you of your university years. The years when you and Bradley became friends. You had thought that moving to Michigan for college wouldn’t be bad, it only being four years. But you were wrong. The winters there were cold and wet, making you a hermit for almost half the year.
“The snow isn’t that bad.” You pulled your black and grey heathered beanie off your head and tossed it on your side of the dashboard. There was an odd flutter when you looked at him, his smile seeming brighter than normal.
“You say that because you grew up here.” You pointed at him, a mocking grimace on your face. Bradley chuckled at your look, swatting your finger away. 
“What? Afraid we might get stuck in the freezing cold?” You pulled the blanket up over your arms and chest, rolling your eyes at his question. “Can you pull up the GPS, maybe connect your phone to the car for music too?” 
“Am I gonna have to take requests?” You raised an eyebrow at him. Bradley’s lips quirked to one side as you started to fiddle with the touch screen in the rental. 
“Honestly, as long as you get the directions pulled up I’ll let you listen to whatever.” Bradley said as he finally made it onto the freeway. A part of you wondered why he even needed the GPS working when it was a straight shot. That was one you enjoyed about Michigan, I-75. The freeway that could take you all the way from Canada to Florida. It was practically the straight shot to anywhere in Michigan, except the western side of the state and most of the upper peninsula. But you indulged him, pulling the GPS up. 
“So, are there any specific plans for the holidays?” You put your music on shuffle, keeping it at a low volume. Bradley shrugged. 
“All I’m really aware of is Christmas Eve and Christmas day. They know we are heading out on New Year’s eve. But we might have a gathering during the week.” You laid your seat back a little bit, getting more comfortable as Bradley stayed focused on the road. 
“I’ll assume that Christmas Eve and Christmas are gonna be with the family. But what are we doing during the week? Besides lounging of course.” There were a few thumps as Bradley hit some classic Michigan potholes. 
“Of course. We are having a little get together.” Bradley muttered. You could tell he was hiding something. 
“Bradley, don’t lie to me anymore.” You squinted at him. Bradley brought a hand to the back of his neck, scratching awkwardly and the crunch of the material of his winter coat drowned out the music. 
“I uh.. I might have agreed to a little college reunion with the gang.” College reunion? With ‘the gang’? That wasn’t what you signed up for. You had signed up for hot cocoa and presents with his family, being awkwardly teased about a relationship that didn’t exist. Faking a relationship in front of their friends wasn’t in the deal. You shot up out of your seat, turning to face him better.
“You what? Bradley! I’m not doing this,” you gestured between the two of you, “in front of them.” Bradley’s face scrunched up as he looked at you. You swatted at his arm, earning a fake yelp from him as he pulled away from you. 
“Hey! I’m driving!” 
“Crash the car now then! They can’t think we are together!” Bradley rolled his eyes. 
“I’m not crashing the car, it’s a rental. Plus, it’s not like Hangman doesn’t already think that.” You let out a huff while the car went over another pothole.
“Jake can’t know about this little deal we have. He’d get off on it too much.” 
“Well, none of them have to know about it. We can keep it a secret.” Another pothole. You turned the music up then curled back up into your seat. You knew that was too hopeful, everyone of your friends would know immediately. Especially Bob and Natasha. Bradley focused back on the road after he made sure you were done arguing. 
He knew why you wouldn’t want the group to think you two were dating, many of them having bet money on your relationship status every year of university. But Jake had always been the most relentless. Bradley decided to push that thought to the back of his mind, focusing on the road while occasionally looking over at your now sleeping form. 
Bradley looked over as you started to rustle, sleep still covering your features. For a split second he smiled, taking in how adorable you looked. Bradley blushed at his own thoughts, focusing back on the road. You rubbed at your eyes, looking around the car and stretching out your arms. Bradley leaned a bit away from you as one of your hands moved into his space while you stretched. 
“Morning sleepyhead.” Bradley said as you sat up and moved your seat back upright. Bradley chuckled when you shot a glare at him. You looked out the window, noticing larger mounds of snow littering the area. There had to be at least a foot of snow in the surrounding area. You grabbed your beanie from the dashboard, putting it back on. You weren’t even outside but you could already feel the lower temperature. 
“How far away are we?” You asked, switching the song.
“GPS says twenty minutes, but I think I can make it in fifteen.” Bradley joked with a wink. You shot him a playful look before checking your phone. There was a text from Bob, making you smile. 
He was still one of you best friends from college, the both of you texting occasionally. You had met him at college, just like the rest of your friend group. Him and Mickey had been the only ones that weren’t so annoying about your relationship with Bradley. It was a short text, but one that had your nose scrunching up.
Bobert: You going home with Brad?
You: yeah, but it isn’t anything like that
You: also don’t call him that, it’s weird
Bobert: says the person who calls him B
The twenty minutes flew by quickly, taking in all of the surroundings outside. Bradley was right when he said it was a small town. You were pretty sure there were only three stop lights in the entire town. The town seemed dead, as most towns did during the winter in Michigan. Most people bundled up inside, drinking hot cocoa, and watching Christmas movies with their families. Or at least that was what you did while you were here. Bundled up in your dorm or apartment, depending on the year, while sipping hot cocoa with an iconic Christmas movie on. Bradley and Jake always teased you about being scrooge, but you couldn’t help that the ‘merry season’ just didn’t bring much merriment for you. 
Bradley turned down streets that you definitely weren’t going to remember, before turning into a driveway of a home. It was an obvious two story home. The outside of the house was covered in mismatching stones, a nice cement porch attached to the front. Dead bushes lined the edge of the driveway next to the house, wrapping around near the porch. There were lights covering and the edges of the roof, currently off due to it being daytime. You could make out small wire frames of a few deer lawn ornaments.
“This your childhood home?” You asked as you undid your seatbelt to get out. Bradley’s mustache twitched, a small curve to his lips. It looked almost like a nostalgic but melancholic look. His hazel eyes were full of emotions when he looked at you. It had been years since Bradley came home for the holidays, mainly spending his holidays alone now. 
“Sure is.” Bradley undid his own seatbelt, opening the driver door and getting out of the car. You quickly followed suit, the both of you heading to get the back of the car to get your luggage. 
A shiver ran through your body as you followed Bradley’s lead, making your way to the side door of the house. All you could think about was getting inside, the warmth of the home calling to you. A part of you was hoping that Penny might already have hot cocoa prepared for you two, even though the chances were low. Bradley knocked on the door, making sure to not hit the wreath hanging on it. Bradley stood on the small set of cement steps towards the door, creating an extremely large height difference. Bradley wiggled his eyebrows playfully as you two waited for someone to answer. 
“Are you sure they are home?” You rocked back and forth lightly, trying to generate some extra warmth. Bradley tilted his head and gave you a weird look. 
“Penny and Mav are retired. Plus, Amelia is on break from school. One of them has to be home.” Bradley stated as he leaned over to try and look in the windows near the door. “Or at least I’m pretty sure someone should be here.” Bradley smiled awkwardly at you before the door swung open. 
“What are you doing here?” A young blonde haired girl said with a glare. 
“Are you home alone?” Bradley questioned. You watched the two of them, taking in their casual conversation. You knew this was Amelia, recognizing some of her features. “You gonna let us in or nah?” Bradley’s question caught your attention. 
“Yeah, please. It’s really cold out here.” You finally spoke up, earning a smile from Amelia. 
“You’re lucky you brought your girlfriend Roo, or else I’d make you sleep in the garage.” Amelia smiled brightly after her words, opening the door and stepping out of the way. There was an odd feeling in your chest, when she called you Bradlye’s girlfriend. You offered an awkward smile to her, not sure if you would ever get used to being called Bradley’s girlfriend. The two of you grabbed your suitcases and made your way inside. It was a relief to feel the heat of the home engulf your body. 
“I’ll remember that when it’s Christmas morning.” Bradley quipped as he took his beanie off, you mimicking his action. Amelia stuck her tongue out, leaving the small foyer-like room. There were pictures of Bradley and Amelia adorning the walls in the foyer with the occasional Christmas decoration of the wall. The ages of them ranged from toddler to Bradley’s university graduation. One picture stood out to you though. It was toddler Bradley with two people you had never met. A gentle and kind looking woman next to a man with a pair of aviator sunglasses on and a goofy smile. The man was holding Bradley on his hip, an outdoor grill obvious in the background. Bradley must have realized you were staring at the picture, him standing a bit closer to you. 
“That’s mom and dad.” You turned to see Bradley merely inches away from your face. A heat you had noticed earlier started to boil under your cheeks. “I’ll tell you more about them later. Let’s get our stuff upstairs.” 
Bradley led the way through the comforting home, more Christmas decorations littering the home the deeper you got. It gave you an immediate sense of security, knowing that nothing wrong could happen here. The walls inside the home were adorned with more family pictures. You saw some of just Mav and Bradley’s dad, even ones of teenage Bradley and his mom. You knew that Bradley had lost his parents from a car accident, just had never seen what they looked like. The two of you made your way up the wrapping staircase. 
“So, we are sharing a room.” Bradley said as you made your way down the hallway. 
“We are what now?” Bradley opened the door to what you assumed was his old bedroom. It was more of a spare room now though, no old traces of Bradley lingering in it. There was only one bed. Of course there was only one bed. 
“That’s fine, but only one bed?” You questioned. Bradley scooted his suitcase to the side of the room, offering you a smile. 
“I’ll sleep on the floor, I promise.” 
“Good, cause I’m not sharing.” You playfully elbowed his arm, smirking when he made an over exaggerated yelp.  
After getting your suitcases sorted and unpacked you made your way downstairs. You found Amelia sitting in the living room, some type of docu-series on the tv. You sat on the couch opposite of her, checking your phone. Not only did you have a text from Bob, but one from Mickey now too. 
Bobert: (; sure it ain’t 
Mickey: how am i finding out from bob you’re with rooster for the holidays????
You rolled your eyes, deciding that neither of them deserved a response. You looked up from your phone, meeting Amelia’s gaze. You offered a small wave to her, not sure how to start a conversation with her. 
“So, have you two always been together?” Amelia crossed her arms and sunk further into the couch. Your eyebrows knitted together. 
“No? Why wou-” 
“You two went to CMU together, right?” You nodded. “And were you dating then?” 
“No, why are you-” 
“Hey!” Bradley interrupted you, coming into the living room and sitting next to you. He wrapped an arm behind you, pressing his body closely to yours. You could feel a small flutter in your stomach, something you had vaguely felt before. Especially with Bradley. 
Being this close with Bradley wasn’t unfamiliar, it was something you enjoyed from time to time. It was just nice to have someone there occasionally, that someone being Bradley. But this was different. You two were technically boyfriend and girlfriend right now. A couple. It made you feel something weird, something you couldn’t pinpoint exactly. All you knew was that it made your body act differently. A warmth was blossoming behind your cheeks, heart fluttering from his looks and smiles, hands developing a clamminess. 
“What are the two of you talking about?” Bradley asked with a big smile, his arm pulling you a little more snug into him. 
“You.” Amelia said with a playful glare. It was Bradley’s turn to poke his tongue out at her. The two of them started to talk while you watched them. If you hadn’t known Bradley for years, you would have thought this was his sibling. Amelia was that of sorts, even if she was about thirteen years younger than him. Bradley was an only child, but the conversation you were witnessing made you question that fact. 
“Well what about me?” Bradley asked. 
“That you should shave your mustache.” Amelia quipped. You couldn’t hide your giggle, only to be met with an offended look from Bradley. 
“There’s no way. You love my mustache don’t you, babe?” The heat flooded your cheeks once more. 
“I-I mean, I forgot what you look like without it. You’ve had it for years.” 
“You can be honest. It looks bad.” Amelia harped from her side of the living room. Bradley went to say something, stopping when he heard the door open. Amelia shot Bradley a playful look, getting up and running over to the kitchen. Suddenly you could feel Bradley’s breath on your cheek and neck, making your heartbeat pick up. 
“Sorry about all of this.” Bradley gestured to where the two of your bodies were pressed together. You turned to look at him, your eyes locking with his hazel ones. There were only a few mere inches between the two of you. “Gotta sell the part, ya know?” 
“No, no, I totally get it.” You patted at the top of his thigh, rubbing your hand lightly on his jean clad thigh. Your eyes flicked to his lips then to his eyes again. It was like something clicked in your brain, you immediately looked away from him making a small cough-like noise. “Sorry, scratch in my throat.”
Without warning Mav walked in, causing Bradley to stand up and separate from you. It was the most miniscule thing, but you were relieved. You gave Mav a smile, waving at Penny as she came around. Even though you felt welcome, all you could think about was the flight back home. 
-
“No, Bob!” You whispered on the phone. “He was like inches away, like if either of us were bumped, there would have been lip to lip contact.” You heard a small snicker. “What are you laughing about?” 
“About you coming to your senses.” You rolled your eyes, sitting down on the bed you’d be sleeping in later. 
“There aren't any ‘senses’ for me to come to.” What the fuck was Bob talking about anyway? 
“Sure there aren’t. But if you don’t see it, I’m not gonna tell you.” Bob’s shit eating grin could be heard through the phone. 
“Good, ‘cause there is nothing to be seen.” You were about to continue the conversation before Bradley walked into the room, closing the door behind him. He wore an old marron Central Michigan University t-shirt, gray sweatpants, towel still in hand, hair wet. Something inside of you lurched seeing Bradley like this, seeing him so casual and domestic. It wasn’t like how you used to see him in college, there was something different now. 
“I gotta let you go, Bob. I’ll text you.”  There was a small silence between you and Bradley before he spoke. 
“How’s Bob?” Bradley asked, gathering the extra blankets he found earlier. He laid a comforter down on the floor next to the bed. You pulled your legs up onto the bed, trying to keep them out of his way while he assembled his makeshift bed. You grabbed one of the pillows from the head of the bed and plopped it down on his comforter. 
“Bob is, Bob is fine.” Bradley got down on his knees, rolling out the blankets and fluffing the pillow you tossed down. Another silence. 
“Hey, I… I’m sorry about earlier and dinner. If I’m being a bit too much,” he looked up at you, “just let me know. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” A sincere look was on his features.
“Bradley..”
“I just need this holiday to go well, okay?” A small amount of emotion had slipped into Bradley’s sincere look. 
“Bradley, what is this really about?” Bradley looked away from you. 
“I know you don’t want to be here, but please. I need to show Mav that I’m doing well.” You watched Bradley with a smile as he started talking with his hands. It was kind of cute, something he did when he got nervous. “He keeps harping on me and I just-” You took his hands in yours, stopping the movements. Bradley finally looked back up at you, making you smile. 
“Why didn’t you just tell me this when you asked me?” You thought about dinner, how Mav kept asking questions. When did you two officially get together? When are you gonna move in together? Did you always like each other? Any thoughts about marriage? 
“I didn’t want you to feel pressured about the entire thing. Like if you didn’t want to come, you didn’t have to. Mav is just a little overbearing, and has been since my parents passed. He just-” 
“Bradley,” he stopped his rambling, “I’m your friend, okay? Friends help friends. And that unfortunately means maybe pretending to be your friend's girlfriend to make it seem like he is doing good in life with his god-father.” Bradley’s lips cracked into a smile at your words. 
“Thanks. I knew there was a reason why I call you my best friend.” A small flutter in your chest was noticeable as you smiled back at him. 
“You’re gonna owe me so much take-out and coffee after this.” 
-
It was Christmas Eve and all five of you were in the living room. It was apparently tradition for Bradley and his family to watch Space-Balls on Christmas Eve, followed by some assortment of Christmas movies afterwards. Pete and Penny were on one couch, Penny curled up under Pete’s arm. Amelia was curled up on a recliner, bundled up with a fleece blanket. Then there was you and Bradley. Bradley sat at one end of the couch, you laid out at the other end with your legs stretching out. Your feet were currently set on Bradley’s lap, one of his hands rested on your shin while the other was curled around the heel of one foot. 
Everyone was focused on the movie, laughing at the jokes they had laughed at before. But you weren’t focused on the movie. Yes, it was one of your favorites. How could it not be, seeing Bill Pullman pull out such a stellar comedy performance. But alas, you were focused on your best friend. 
After your conversation last night, it was easier. All of it. The small touches of Bradley’s fingertips or hands, the invasion of your ‘bubble’ became more bearable too. Even the small things your body was doing. Everytime Bradley laughed it warmed you, making you forget about the ten degree weather outside. The way your heart fluttered when he looked at you, it was oddly exciting. Has that always happened when he looked at you? 
You felt a squeeze on your heel, pulling you out of your thoughts. Bradley was giving you a questioning look, silently asking if you were okay with another squeeze of your heel. After giving him a soft smile and nod he turned back to the movie. Bradley had always been a type of comfort to you, but this was a different kind of comfort he was providing now. The movie played on, earning a few giggles and chuckles from you and the others. It wasn’t until the end of the movie any of you noticed the new snowflakes flurrying beyond the window pane. 
“Fresh snow!” Amelia shouted, whipping around in the recliner to look out the window behind her. You sat up a little bit, pulling the blanket on your lap up around you while inching closer to Bradley.
“Wonder how long it’s been snowing.” Bradley whispered as you leaned into him. The blanket you had was warm, but you wanted more warmth. You silently thanked whatever higher power for making Bradley a walking furnace. 
“Not sure.” Bradley wrapped an arm around you, pulling you tighter into him. You looked across the living room, catching a look from Mav. There was this look of adoration in his eyes as he watched you and Bradley. A small pang of guilt struck you, feeling bad about fooling him. But if this was what Bradley wanted, you would help. You weren’t going to be around when it blew up anyways, when Bradley had to explain why you had ‘broken up’ or that it was all fake. 
“Let’s go outside! Make a snowman or something!” Amelia turned back around and sat up. 
“I don’t know about that one.” Penny said, sitting up on the couch. “It’s pretty cold outside.” 
“We will wear our coats, hats and gloves. Promise.” Amelia held out her pinky to her mother, signaling a pinky promise. Mav chuckled at her before speaking. 
“And who is we?” Amelia shrugged at Mav’s question. 
“Me and Bradley.” It was Bradley’s turn to sit up straight, making you sit up straight. 
“Hey, I didn’t agree to that.” Bradley said, his arms still around you. 
“Please?” Amelia asked, putting on her best puppy dog eyes. Bradley rolled his eyes.
“Fine but only if she comes out too.” Bradley smirked as he gestured to you. You sat back from him, giving him an astonished look. 
“If I-”
“Pretty please. I wanna go do snow angels, but I don’t wanna go alone.” Amelia interrupted you, now giving you puppy dog eyes. You didn’t want to ruin her mood. 
“Only if I get to pick the next Christmas movie.” Everyone agreed to let you pick the next Christmas movie. You, Bradley, and Amelia hunted down your winter gear. Bradley made sure to tie your boots tight for you, knowing that you didn’t want to risk getting snow in them. Amelia grabbed your arm, tugging you down for her to whisper something. 
“Let’s pelt him with snowballs.” 
The three of you went outside, hats pulled down and far as possible. Amelia ran through the snow coating the driveway, missing the cars as she made her way to the front yard. You and Bradley walked to the yard, seeing Amelia with her arms out and wide, twirling as she caught snowflakes with her tongue. It made you smile, seeing her enjoy the very essence of what winter was. Bradley watched you, taking in your expression. He felt something blossom inside of him, not being able to place what it was exactly. 
“Ready for snow angels?” You joked, elbowing him lightly. Bradley smiled at you, before nodding and leading the way. Penny and Pete watched your snow angel joy turn into a snowball fight, you and Amelia teaming up against Bradley. 
“They’re cute.” Penny said as she watched Bradley fall down as Amelia tackled him into the snow. All Mav could do was nod, smiling as he watched the three of you. He had never seen Bradley so happy, let alone so happy with another person. 
-
“The, the, the, the Grinch!” Bradley mocked, repeating the line of your favorite Christmas movie as you two made it up the stairs. After coming back inside from a thorough snowball fight, you forced everyone to sit through the live-action Grinch. 
It was late now, the two of you making your way up to your shared room. Bradley shot you a pair of finger guns before gathering his clothes, heading into the bathroom. It was his way of giving you privacy while changing. The both of you hoped that Amelia never saw it, not wanting her to catch on to your charade. You slipped into your sleepwear, your own Central Michigan University t-shirt and sweatpants. You checked your phone after you set your dirty clothes in the clothes basket. There were a few messages from your dagger squad group chat and a few from Bob. 
Dagger Squad, Nat: Midland Street? Right? 
Dagger Squad, Jakey: i mean, fricks is an option
Dagger Squad, Javs: only saying fricks cause you live there
Dagger Squad, Jakey: sue me
Dagger Squad, BradBrad: Either spot, can’t be out late. Have to drive afterwards
You squinted at the time of Bradley’s message, seeing it was only from a few minutes ago. You typed out a small reply to the group chat, explaining you also had a drive before looking at Bob’s texts. 
Bobert: How’s the trip? 
Bobert: You’re not mad about our convo, right? 
Bobert: Sorry if I was out of line. 
Bobert: Y’all coming to the get together? 
You thought Bradley had told everyone you two would be there. 
You: yeah, just have to drive afterwards. and no, i’m not mad, just had to watch a lot of christmas movies and beat bradley’s ass in a snowball fight 
A beat barely passed when a notification dropped down, a text to the group chat from Jake. 
Dagger Squad, Jakey: just one of you lovebirds dd, i got a spare room if you need it (;
You rolled your eyes, just in time for Bradley to walk in the room. He had his phone in hand, staring at the screen as he closed the door. He turned to look at you, holding his phone out for you to see the screen. The group chat was pulled up on his screen. 
“Are you seeing this?” You held up your phone, showing him the group chat on your screen. 
“Grade-A asshole.” You joked about Jake. You climbed into bed, curling up under the plush comforter. You scooted to the edge, looking at Bradley as he settled onto his makeshift bed. 
“Sometimes I wonder why we are friends with him.” Bradley stated, plugging his charger into the phone and setting it on the nightstand. He picked up your charger cord, handing it to you for you to plug your phone in.
“It’s crazy how any of us are friends.” You said while plugging  your phone in. 
“How so?” Bradley asked, looking up at you from the floor. Your heart swelled as you looked at him, his honey locks disheveled against the pillow. There was a tiredness that was settling on his features, one that was most likely settling onto yours too. 
“I mean, aside from us, we all have different majors. It’s kind of surprising we all managed to stay friends after pre-req years.” Bradley shrugged. He tried hard not to smile as he stared up at you, your cute peeking form over the edge of the bed. The two of you just stared at each other for a moment before you spoke up again. 
“Should we set an alarm for the morning? Don’t wanna miss any presents.” Bradley shook his head no. 
“I promise you, they won’t open anything before we get down there.” You rolled back onto the bed completely, rolling onto your side. 
“Goodnight, Bradley.”
“Goodnight, babe.” 
-
The two of you were awoken by Penny knocking on your door. After confirmation the two of you were awake she told the two of you to be downstairs in ten minutes. Bradley groaned as he rolled onto his side. You checked your phone, seeing a text from Mickey, Bob, and the dagger squad group chat. You looked at the time, 9:25am, then decided to ignore the texts. Those were a future you problem. Without warning Bradley stood up, not facing you and leaving the room. 
It was odd, he at least told you good morning yesterday before heading to the bathroom. You changed into an old university sweater, waiting for Bradley to return. After a few minutes you decided to head down alone, knowing Bradley would be close to follow. 
The smell of cinnamon rolls flooded your senses, making you smile. You saw Penny and Amelia in the kitchen, talking about something while preparing the cinnamon rolls. You made your way to the first floor bathroom, deciding to use it before interacting for the day. After using the bathroom you made your way to the living room. Pete smiled at you once he saw you. 
“Merry Christmas!” Mav greeted you before frowning. “Where’s Bradley?” You shrugged. 
“Went to the bathroom in a hurry and I haven’t seen him since.” Mav nodded, a weird half frown half smirk on his lips. You went to question the look before Bradley walked into the living room. His cheeks had a rosy tint to them, making you question why he left for the bathroom even more. 
“Morning.” You greeted as he sat next to you. Bradley smiled and just nodded to you, turning his attention to Mav quickly. 
“We just put the cinnamon rolls in, so let’s do some presents.” Penny informed as she sat next to Mav. Amelia sat at her classic recliner, staring at the gifts under the Christmas tree. 
“It’s present time.” And with those words gifts were passed around. Bradley had explained on the plane ride that Mav and Penny had his presents shipped to his apartment. It made sense, flying made it hard to bring anything back with you during the holidays. But that didn’t stop them from getting the two of you new beanies and scarves, things that wouldn’t be hard to take on a plane. 
“We know it’s small but we couldn’t leave you out.” Penny said as you set the items on the arm of the couch. 
“Thank you, it means a lot.” Penny smiled then excused herself to check on the cinnamon rolls in the oven. Bradley watched Amelia with a soft smile as she shoved a present towards Mav.
Seeing Bradley like this made your heart ache, knowing that he wasn’t able to experience this every year. It was lonely living away from everything you knew. You had left your home state for college, Bradley left his for work. You had happened to both get employed by the same company after university, forcing you two to stay close. But there was a kind of comfort in having each other. Bradley’s constant open availability for a movie night and you always paying for his take out was a match made in heaven. Without a further thought you nudged him lightly. 
“You okay?” Bradley nodded, that kind tilt of his lips still on his face. 
“Of course, what makes you ask?” Bradley leaned back into the couch, placing his arm around you. There was an unspoken comfortability in the small action, for you and Bradley. You leaned into him, eyes never leaving Amelia and Pete. 
“You never said good morning.” That rosy tint crept back into Bradley’s cheeks. His eyes flicked to yours briefly before leaning in, his hot breath against the shell of your ear. 
“Sorry, I won’t let it happen again.” It was now your turn for a heat to rise in your cheeks, warming you to your very core. Was Bradley flirting with you? Your brain short-circuited, replying without thinking it through. 
“You better not.” You whispered back, leaning closer into him to see Mav open a coffee mug saying “I’m a Pielat, Pielit, Pilat, I can fly” which earned a hearty chuckle from him. 
Bradley kept his arm around you for the rest of the day, except when you enjoyed Penny’s homemade cinnamon rolls that you made sure to get the recipe for. Maybe you would make them for you and Bradley sometime, to remind him of home when he needed it the most. A warmth spread through you at that thought, the idea of being able to provide him a sense of home. You shook your head, trying to push your thoughts away. Why were you even thinking that? Providing Bradley a sense of home? The two of you were friends, not an actual couple you reminded yourself of. 
-
Bradley was beyond elated with how the trip was going. It was only three days into the trip, but your sentiment about it all had changed. Bradley was surprised when you let him, continually, wrap his arm around you. He liked keeping you close to him, snuggled into his side as you all watched more Christmas movies. There was a warmth spreading through his chest, creeping into all of his crevices. It was making him whole, fixing all the cracks that were inside of him previously. He knew that you had something to do with it. 
Maybe it was the way you teased him along with his family. Or how you fit in with them so well, holding any conversation like you’d known them personally for years. The way you made snow angels charmed him too, even though you had turned into a little devil that pelted him with snowballs. Even when you were peeking over the edge of the bed, staring down at him with your wide eyes while complaining about Jake. Or maybe it was the dream he had, where dream him was fucking dream you in his childhood bedroom. Or how he couldn’t get the images of dream you moaning underneath of him. 
The feeling wasn’t completely unfamiliar, he had felt it in the past. He had always tried to ignore it, not wanting to mess anything up with you. But you were his best friend, and had been since college. What was a friendship if you didn’t sometimes love them a little too much? Right? 
It was late now though, and you were still curled up under his arm. You looked peaceful, sleep having taken over during the final christmas movie after dinner. Bradley didn’t want to wake you, wishing the two of you could stay like this forever. He didn’t get many chances to see you this peaceful. He eventually pushed those feelings to the side, deciding it was best to get you up to the bed. He didn’t want to chance you waking up in the middle of the night on the couch disoriented. 
“Hey,” Bradley nudged your shoulder, “gotta get up. Get you up to bed, can’t have you sleeping on the couch or me all night.” You rustled a little, eyes fluttering open to meet his hazel orbs. 
“Why not?” You asked with a yawn. 
“Because I’m not a bed. Plus, you gotta brush your teeth.” You gave him a face that read ‘ah’, sitting up and stretching your arms. You looked around to see just the two of you in the living room. 
“Did everyone go to bed?” 
“Yeah, everyone turned in for the night.” Bradley sat up a little bit, looking at you with this soft look. You stared at him with a sleepy look, making his heart flutter. You looked so damn cute to him. “I can carry you, if you’d like?” 
A heat flooded your cheeks from his offer. You shook your head as Bradley stood up, holding his hand out for you to take. You looked at it skeptically through your sleepy haze, eventually taking it. His large hand enveloped yours, leading you up to your room. Bradley gathered his things and scurried to the bathroom, leaving you alone in the bedroom. A part of you was starting to question why he left every time. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen you naked before, even though the times he had seen you it was an accident. 
You slowly pulled your beat up CMU sweater off, tossing it on the floor to track down your t-shirt. You put a pair of sweatpants on, t-shirt still missing. You looked around, searching for the maroon t-shirt. The door to the room opened while you were searching, revealing a shirtless Bradley with your maroon shirt in his hands. He stared at your shirtless figure, only a black bralette covering your tits. 
“I- uh.. I accidentally grabbed your shirt.” Bradley offered the maroon material out to you. 
It was as if you were frozen, staring at his body. You remembered how toned Bradley was in college, but he had changed with age just like you had. He was still slim, but it wasn’t all muscle like he used to be. The heat returned to your cheeks, radiating into the back of your neck and chest. It was a christmas miracle you tore your gaze away, only to catch Bradley’s gaze crawling all over your exposed skin. Bradley had a rosy tint to his cheeks again, something that was a common theme today. He tore his gaze away, turning his head and holding the shirt out a little more. 
“And you thought I was the tired one.” It was a poor attempt to break the new tension between the two of you. Bradley cracked an awkward smile. “I’m gonna go brush my teeth.” You said, scooting past Bradley with your t-shirt in hand. After you brushed your teeth you stared at yourself in the mirror, wondering what the hell was going on with you. 
-
"Rooster, can you come help me?" The basement door was wide open in the kitchen, Maverick at the bottom of the stairs leading into the basement. You raised your eyebrows at Bradley, who was sitting across from you at the table. 
A chill had consumed the house all morning. Everyone was bundled up in sweaters, sweatpants, cozy socks, and Bradley in a beanie. Mav had made sure to keep an eye on the thermostat, slowly watching the temp drop. Penny had left for work already, leaving Maverick responsible for figuring out the dropping heating problem. Bradley made his way to the door, asking for good luck before heading down to the basement. As Bradley's footsteps trailed to silence, your phone vibrated. 
Mickey: y'all fuck yet????
You rolled your eyes, not noticing Amelia watching you from the kitchen. 
You: we aren't gonna fuck like that
You: you’re as bad as jake
Mickey: like that??? 
You: we aren't fucking at all
Mickey: that's not what a little bird told me 
You: if you mean bob, that's not what I told him 
Mickey: it was an actual bird. or at least a mythical one (;
"A mythical bird?" You quietly asked. The text glared at you, racking the crevices of your brain. 
"Like a Phoenix?" Amelia's playful tone cut through your thoughts. 
Phoenix. Of course it was Phoenix. 
Natasha Trace was Bradley's second best friend, right after you. She went to the same high school as Bradley, and the same university as the rest of you. In college she earned the nickname Phoenix from Jake, after a wild night of partying and her being completely unphased the day after. If you had been telling Bob about what happened, there was a chance that Bradley was telling Natasha. Maybe Bradley thought all these interactions were just as weird. 
"You two are dating, right?" Amelia's voice interrupted your train of thought again. She scuttled in from the kitchen to the dining room, a blanket wrapped around her and her sweatshirt hood pulled up. She stared at you from the edge of the table. 
"What makes you ask that?" 
"First, you didn't say yes. Second, Bradley had never mentioned you prior. Just makes me wonder things." Her words weren't hurtful, she just wanted to know. Contemplation wavered in you for a moment, deciding whether to tell Amelia the truth or not. 
“Don’t tell your mom and Mav. And don’t tell Bradley that I told you this either.” Amelia’s smirk grew wide at your words. 
“I knew it!” An excited whisper left her, accompanied by a finger pointing at you. You rolled your shoulders and tilted your head at her. 
“Bradley needed someone to bring home since Mav kept asking if he was seeing anyone. And now here I am, in the freezing cold with you.” Amelia snickered at your last comment. She was a sweet girl, you could feel the secret was safe with her. 
“Bradley had never mentioned you, so I thought it was a little weird.” She admitted while pulling out a chair to sit. A nod and smile was all you were able to give her. “It’s not that you guys aren’t believable, because you are. The looks you two give each other? Those are on par with mom and Mav.” You squinted while tilting your head, eyebrows knitted together in confusion. Amelia laughed. “Why are you giving me that look?” 
“What?” Amelia’s eyes widened at your question. An at home theater had formed in your brain, replaying all of the moments of the trip in your brain. 
“Are you serious?” You just stared at her in disbelief. “You’re just as oblivious as Bradley.” The both of you turned to look at the door to the basement, hearing footsteps climbing the stairs. Pete was the first one to emerge, Bradley right on his tail. Bradley smiled awkwardly, looking between you and Amelia. He clearly knew something was up between the two of you. 
“Well, the furnace is out. Gonna have to call the H-VAC company.” Pete looked defeated, fishing his phone out of his pocket. He walked over to the sink, leaning against it as he googled the local company. Bradley made his way over to your chair, placing a hand on your back and rubbing lightly. All you could do was stare at Amelia, watching as her lips curved into a grin. 
“You two good?” Bradley questioned, his hand stilling on your back. Amelia looked up at Bradley with that grin on her lips.
“Just fine, Roo. Why wouldn’t we be?” The gal on this kid was impressing you more and more. You watched Amelia as she put her hands up under her chin, batting her lashes at Bradley. It pulled a giggle out of you, watching her try to soothe Bradley’s suspicion. Bradley scrunched his eyebrows together at Amelia, confused as to why she was acting like this. 
“O-kay. Babe, can you help me pull out some electric heaters from the garage?” You squinted at him, chatter of Mav on the phone filling the background now. 
“Um, why didn’t we get those earlier?” 
“Exactly.” It was nice to hear Amelia agree with you. 
“I asked the same thing,” Bradley leaned down between the two of you, “but you know how he is.” All three of you looked towards the kitchen, seeing Mav pinching the bridge of his nose. None of you could hear his hushed tone. Bradley turned back and stood up, shrugging his shoulders. “Said something about how high the electric bill will be.” 
“Of course he did.” Amelia scoffed, shaking her head in amusement. 
“Yeah, I’ll help with getting the heaters.” In all honesty, you just wanted away from Amelia. You wanted time to process her words, without her being present. 
The two of you bundled up, throwing on your coats and boots before heading out to the garage. Bradley swiped the key to the garage door, letting you out the house first. It felt relieving knowing it was still colder outside, reminding you it wasn’t that cold in the house. Your hands were tightly in your coat pockets, trying to scavenge any type of heat they could find. Bradley headed to the tall wooden gate that separated the backyard from the driveway. His hands rubbed together vigorously, bringing the up to blow warm air against the cold appendages. 
“Forgot gloves?” Bradley smirked at your words.
“Yeah.” It was a soft ‘yeah’, one that made your heart flutter. Bradley was staring at you with this soft look on his face. He looked at your pockets, seeing small movements behind the polyester material. “Forget yours too?” 
All you could do was nod, praying Bradley would open the gate soon.  Which he did, flipping the latch and letting you pass through before him. It was left open as he unlocked the garage door, ushering you into the smaller building. It was colder in the garage than the house, but a few degrees warmer than outside. He left the door slightly cracked as he looked for the heaters. 
Your body had started to waddle in place, trying to produce some amount of heat. You took your hands out of your coat pockets, placing them between your thighs for warmth. It was only once you curled in on yourself a little Bradley noticed you. He made his way over to you, straightening your posture up to talk to you. You were face to face with him, his face a few inches away. 
“Last time you forget gloves, right?” 
“Right.” Bradley reached at your forearms, pulling your hands out from between your thighs. He brought your hands up to his mouth, cupping them with his own. Hot breath coated the cold skin of your hands, setting your insides on fire. Your brain was starting to short circuit, feeling the hairs of Bradley’s mustache poking at your hands. Hazel eyes locked with yours, almost reading your thoughts as they popped into your brain. His lips were almost on your skin, a heat was rising from your chest into your neck and face. But no matter what warning signs your body sent out, you weren’t pulling away. 
Only a few more warm breaths of air coated your hands, Bradley pulling away. His eyes never left yours, hazel orbs peering into your deepest thoughts. His hands left yours though, grabbing his beanie off his head. The fabric was full of his residual warmth, warming your scalp and ears when he placed it on your head. 
“There, all better.” Bradley smiled at you, turning to go back and look for the heaters. 
A few moments passed before Bradley found them, hidden on a shelving unit. Your heart was still pounding from the previous interaction. But a sense of relief had washed over you once they were found. There were only three of them, but the amount didn’t matter to you. You were just glad you actually found them. You grabbed one while Bradley grabbed the other two, you closing the doors and gate while trailing behind him. 
Pete looked defeated when the two of you entered the house. Amelia was still sitting at the table, scrolling through her phone. You and Bradley both gave questioning looks to them, Amelia looked up from her phone to meet your looks. She shrugged and looked back at her phone. Maverick pinched the bridge of his nose once more, a common look for today. 
“What’s up? What’d they say?” Bradley asked as he scooted past Mav, bringing one heater out towards the living room. Mav huffed before responding. 
“Won’t be here til tomorrow.” Your look was laced with surprise and annoyance. Mav must have caught it, throwing his hands up in the air. “You’re telling me. So, we will probably have to rotate the heaters. Keep them on the first floor, then move them to the bedrooms at night.” Bradley returned from the living room, grabbing another space heater to place in the crest of the dining area and living room. After placing the last one in the kitchen, the four of you settle into the living room, bundling up with blankets as you all watch whatever Amelia put on. 
Penny was equally unimpressed with the answer the H-VAC company gave, but at least they knew it would only last a night. A space heater was moved to everyone’s respective rooms, warming them barely. A sweatshirt and sweatpants were your sleep attire for the night, Bradley wearing the same. It was painful watching him crawl on into his makeshift bed. The layers barely helped, the heater not being powerful enough to heat the entire room. That was when you heard a soft chittering. You rolled over to the edge of the bed, looking down to see Bradley curled up in a blanket and shivering. Sharing the bed was the only option to keep the both of you warm.
“Bradley?” One of his eyes opened, peering up at you. 
“Yeah?” 
“Do you wanna share the bed?” Bradley knitted his eyebrows, both eyes open now. 
“I- no, I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable.” Bradley lightly shook his head. 
“Bradley, you won’t make me uncomfortable.”
“No, I’m not getting in the bed.”
“Why?” A smirk grew on Bradley’s face. 
“You have cooties, obviously.” You rolled your eyes. 
“I’m serious, you’re gonna freeze.”
“And I’m also serious.” Bradley pulled his blanket up over his neck, a shudder running through him. 
"Bradley, I can hear your teeth. Get in the bed." Your whisper was harsh as you tried to convince Bradley to remove himself from the floor. Even though you didn't really want to share the bed, you definitely weren't going to let him freeze to death on the floor of his childhood bedroom.
“Fine.” Was all you heard before Bradley stood up. 
Hot. It was the first word your brain registered when you woke up. Maybe it was the layers or the space heater that had run all night. There was a weight on your midsection, shifting to see what it was. It was hard to make out the familiar arm in your sleep induced haze.. That’s when you remembered inviting Bradley into the bed. His shuddering and shivering form on the floor forcing you to show him mercy. 
The arm tightened, pulling you closer into Bradley’s body. His sweatshirt clad chest was inviting against your sweatshirt clad back. It was telling you to relax and just accept this new fate. The fate of being wrapped up in your best friend's arms, heart racing, hot breath against your neck. It was a truly tragic fate. 
Time passed as you laid there, staring at the empty wall on the other side of the room. It’s blank canvas, oddly taunting you, not letting you forget about your current situation. The idea of checking your phone hadn’t even crossed your mind. You’d rather stay here in this comfortable, yet anxiety inducing scenario. It was obvious that Bradley hadn’t woken up yet or else why would he be spooning you, right? 
All the cuddling on the couch was for his family, showing to them that you two were a couple. Amelia being the only one to catch on that you weren’t. Well, at least you hoped she was the only one for both of your sakes. You heard a soft murmur behind you, breaking your train of thought. 
Bradley shifted closer to you, nuzzling his face into your back while pulling your midsection back. That was when you felt it. A heat crept into your cheeks, something sparking inside of you. A small rock of Bradley hips almost had a moan slipping from your lips. Your hand trailed up to your lips, covering your mouth to hide any sounds you might produce. 
Soft sounds emanated from Bradley, your thighs squeezing together as you listened. A loop of excuses kept playing in your brain, telling you that what was happening was wrong but you couldn’t stop your thighs from tightening. It took everything inside of you not to rock back into him, for your and his sanity. But it wasn’t much longer before Bradley was stirring awake. A soft ‘hmm’ was all you heard, his arm loosening around you, then there was a light scramble. 
“Oh my god.” That’s when you decided to put the intro to acting class to work. You played dumb, acting like you were asleep. After letting out a sleep noise, one you knew Bradley wouldn’t decipher, you rolled onto your back to look at him. You squint your eyes, putting on your best sleepy face. 
“What?” Bradley sat up and scooted away from you, a small pang of hurt in your chest. A sheen of sweat coated his face, a rosy tint to his cheeks. His eyes met yours for a moment, only to be broken by him. Bradley threw the blankets off of him, scooting down to the end of the bed. This was not the reaction you were expecting. 
“Bradley?” He stopped, hand resting on the door handle. 
“I’ll be back.” Panic flooded through you as he left. Thoughts of your friendship being now ruined were playing on repeat. You knew Bradley was going to come back into the bedroom and tell you to leave, that he would book a flight home for you. There was no doubt about it. You just let your best friend rut against your ass, and didn’t stop it. Of course, your friendship would be ruined. 
But it didn’t seem that way. Bradley had come back to the room, asking if he woke you and promptly apologizing. Then the day went on as normal, or what had become the normal for the both of you. 
The two of you were laying out on the couch, Amelia hidden in her room, Mav sitting in the living room with you. Pete and Bradley were watching River Monsters on the TV, the size of the fish casually catching your attention every now and then. Your phone was mainly holding your attention as you rested your head on Bradley’s thigh. Every now and then he would peer down at you, raising his eyebrows with a light expression on his face. You couldn’t make out what it really meant, but you knew it wasn’t anything bad. 
You looked back at your phone as the British man on the TV screen talked about the fish he was set after. That’s when a text notification flashed across the top of your screen. One from the group chat. 
Dagger Squad, Jakey: tongiht fuckers
Dagger Squad, Javs: are you drunk already? 
Dagger Squad, Reuben: Where? 
Dagger Squad, Nat: Jake, you better not be 
Dagger Squad, Jakey: one typo and everyone thinks you’re drunk
Dagger Squad, Jakey: i’m at work assholes
Dagger Squad, Jakey: except you Reuben, you’re not an asshole 
Dagger Squad, Reuben: Thanks. 
A chuckle left you, the sling of texts getting the better of you. Bradley noticed your laugh, giving you a questioning look. An amused huff left Bradley after you offered your phone to him. 
“How could we not? He was notorious for showing up to 8am’s still drunk or hungover.” That caught Mav’s attention, him perking up like a puppy. 
“Seresin?” Bradley nodded to Mav, you turning to look at Mav. It didn’t really surprise you that Mav knew of Jake. It surprised you that he knew what his tendencies were. “Wild kid.” Bradley let out a hearty laugh. 
“That’s what you call it? Come on Mav, I’ve heard you call him much worse.” Mav smiled, a small nod barely noticeable. Bradley had told Mav all about Jake in college, the goods and bads. 
“That’s what I’ll leave it at. Don’t want to say anything that gets me in trouble.” 
“Like how he has an ego that could rival the size of Jupiter?” Mav caught your smirk, your words pulling a chuckle from him. 
“Something like that.” It was true. Jake had a huge ego, it was apparent from the first moment you met him. He had just this aura about him that screamed ‘asshole with confidence’, even if the first part wasn’t fully true. Yes, he was an ass a lot of the time, but he did care deeply for all of you. 
“Are you two going out tonight? With Jake?” Bradley’s lips bunched to one side of his mouth. 
“Guess so.” 
For a Tuesday night the bar was packed. Even though Natasha had argued for Midland Street bar hopping, everyone decided Frick’s was probably the better choice. They weren’t the spry young college kids they used to be. The idea of walking from bar to bar while stumbling wasn’t appealing to you, especially in the fifteen degree weather. Plus, the thirty minute drive to Frick’s was better than the forty-five to Midland Street. 
Jake lightened up the minute he saw you and Bradley walk in. Jake stopped you for a moment, making you turn to show off your outfit. It wasn’t anything crazy, jeans and a cropped knit sweater. Natasha greeted Bradley immediately. Your face scrunched a little when Natasha pulled Bradley down, whispering something to him. The lighting wasn’t the best, but there was no mistaking the blush that crept up his neck. 
“You two fuck yet?” Jake’s comment pulled you from your stare. You slapped his chest with the back of your hand, giving him a scowl. 
“Jake, this is why nobody tells you anything.” He wrapped his arm around your shoulders, walking towards the table. 
“People tell me things.” You rolled your eyes, grabbing the wrist of his hand that was dangling off your shoulder. 
“Javy doesn’t count.” Jake feigned a hurt look at your teasing.
“But Javy is people.” You squeezed his wrist, chuckling at his joke. Javy appeared from the bathroom, reminding you of his rule to empty his bladder before drinking. Bradley and Natasha sat down across the table from you. This had to be the first time for the entire trip that Bradley wasn’t sitting next to you. There was a small ache in your chest, watching him scoot closer to the table across from you. Jake sitting next to you was fine, but it just wasn’t Bradley.
“Is Robert coming?” Jake asked. 
“Yeah, Bob is coming.” You replied, seeing Natasha give a confirming nod. 
“Mickey?” Another nod from Nat. “Good, getting those two to reply is like pulling teeth. Reuben even replies faster than them, and he never replies.” You rolled your eyes at Jake’s comment. Group chats weren’t Bob, Mickey, or Reuben’s thing. Hell, Bradley barely responded in the group chat either. 
“What do I never do?” All of you turned to see Reuben, a long wool peacoat and scarf adorning him. That was one thing Reuben was always good at, dressing exceptionally well. You almost jumped out of your chair, hurrying around the table to hug him. It had been years since you saw Reuben. He wasn’t the best at keeping up with people, living in his own realm of existence. You were a little jealous of it, but it did supply you for satisfying reunions. 
“Aye, and Payback is here!” Jake announced, getting out of his own chair to get a hug from Reuben. Reuben rolled his eyes at Jake’s nickname, one that he earned at university for always getting payback on Jake. Jake and Mickey were always trying to pull pranks on Reuben, trying to rile him up. To which Reuben reciprocated, pranking them in ten fold. 
Reuben took his seat at the end of the table, knowing the free seat on your left was meant for Bob. There was a matching open seat across from it, free for Mickey. 
“Yes, Mickey is coming. Class was running a bit late for him.” Sometimes you forgot that Mickey was a teacher. Not just a teacher, a professor. A professor of fine art to be precise. He taught at one of the local community colleges and recreation centers, teaching a few different types of art classes. 
“You got an excuse for Bob?” Jake asked, earning an eye roll from Javy. 
“Dude, this is the first time we’ve all seen each other in years. Why you being like this?” Javy questioned. You and everyone agreed, joining in on scorning Jake for his questioning manner. 
“Excuse me for wanting to know when my friend gets here.” His hands moved up in a defensive manner. That was when the waitress came by, taking drink orders and checking everyone’s ID. Bradley was oddly quiet, making you wonder what was going on in his brain. What had Natasha whispered to him? He wasn’t nervous the entire thirty minute car ride, so why now? 
About ten minutes passed before Bob and Mickey showed up, the both of them getting there at the same time. Bob quickly took his place next to you, Mickey sitting across from him. They both gave you these looks, ones that nobody else picked up on. They knew. They knew what had happened that morning. 
A new group chat had been formed that morning. One of just the three of you. It started initially as a ‘I need to tell Mickey and Bob that Bradley was just dry humping me in his sleep and I didn’t do anything about it’ that turned into a ‘I think I might be in love with Bradley’. Bob and Mickey weren’t surprised by either thoughts. But now you were sitting at a table with them, the temptation of teasing you right in front of them. There was a small tension, one Reuben immediately picked up on.
“So.. how’s everyone been?” Reuben asked, wanting to keep the topic off the obvious. If Mickey knew anything, Reuben knew it too. Their connection started when they were roommates, only strengthening over time. 
“Good! Kids are good too!” Javy didn’t have kids, he had students. He treated them as if they were his own, doting on all of them with an equal amount of care. 
“Still don’t know how you put up with them.” Natasha said, sipping on her gin and tonic. Bradley smiled, agreeing with a nod. 
“Well, I don’t get how you can stare at numbers all day.” Javy teased, sticking his tongue out at her. 
“It’s not that hard.” Jake chimed in. Now it was your turn to join in the conversation. 
“Says the engineer.” Jake rolled his eyes. 
“What can I say,” Jake shrugged, “I’m special.” Jake grabbed his beer bottle for a long swig. 
“If that’s what you want to call it.” Bradley said, earning giggles from everyone around the table. 
That was how the night went. All of you catching up, discussing life and things you all had planned. The topic of what you and Bradley were editing came up, Reuben curious about what new books might hit the market soon. Bob had mentioned that he was doing something computer related, not wanting to explain and potentially confuse everyone. Apparently the private accounting business Natasha started earlier that year was booming; something you never thought could describe accounting. 
Bradley’s gaze would occasionally fall on you throughout the night. While at the table they would flick from your eyes to your lips, every now and then settling on the exposed skin of your neck. His looks only became more frequent after a round of shots. That hazel gaze raking over your body once you all moved to the pool table. It only got worse when you would lean over to take your shot.
That morning had been a confirmation for Bradley, confirming his own feelings for you. It wasn’t a sudden thing, feelings he had been thinking about for a few weeks now. He was hoping this trip would just confirm you being his best friend. But that was not what happened. Every time he looked at you his heart swelled, constantly fighting the urge to press his lips to yours. Not to mention he was waking up almost every morning with a hard on because of dream you. So watching you bend over against the pool table, wiggle your hips slightly before taking your shot was painful. What was even more painful when a guy approached you at the bar. 
You didn’t really remember when you finished off your last drink, or what drink you were even on. You finished the game of pool you were playing before getting a new one. Bradley had told you during the car ride there that he would only have one beer. Which he had already had, not that you were keeping count. You did count that he was on glass three of water though. 
The bar wasn’t too crowded, just a handful of older men hanging out while having some type of whiskey you assumed. The bartender took your drink order, cracking the redbull for it and reaching for the cherry vodka. That was when someone creeped up beside you, waving at the bartender for the next order. An uncomfortable feeling settled over you, feeling a pair of eyes on you. A pair of unfamiliar eyes. 
“Hey.” You looked at the guy next to you, awkwardly smiling and acknowledging him with a nod. You didn’t say anything though, hoping he would leave you be. “You look good.” That made your eyebrows knit together. 
“Sorry, do I know you?” 
“No, but I’d like to get to know you.” You could smell the alcohol on his breath, a grimace coursing through your body. 
“No.” It was a simple word, one you figured would get the point across. 
“Come on sweets, can’t yo-” 
“She said no.” That familiar gruff voice was behind you. You weren’t sure when Bradley had appeared behind you, but you were more than happy about it.
“And who are you, buddy?” That question sparked something in Bradley, his nostrils flaring. Warmth wrapped around your waist, Bradley’s arm tugging you close to him.
“Boyfriend, now get the fuck out of here. She’s taken.” A shiver ran down your spine, a heat pooling between your thighs. Fuck, why did that make you so hot? It had to be the alcohol, not the fact Bradley was calling you his. Your hand rested against his chest, leaning into him to further his words into the stranger's brain. After the stranger left, you grabbed your drink from the bar. The warmth of Bradley’s arm never left you, even when you two walked towards the group. 
It felt like you were vibrating when everyone saw you again. Everyone had giant smirks on their faces, Bob, Reuben, and Mickey whispering between each other. Jake’s smirk was shit-eating, full of a smugness you had shockingly never seen from him before. Javy nudged Nat with his elbow, both of their smirks were full of affection. 
“Some asshole at the bar wouldn’t leave her alone.” Bradley stated when you two returned, the warmth of his arm disappeared. For the rest of the time Bradley fetched all of your drinks, from cider to shots. He was currently at the bar for a round of shots for you, Bob, Mickey, and Reuben. 
“You two make quite the pair,” Reuben took a swig of his beer, “always have if I’m being honest.” 
“And after this morning?” A heat filled you at Mickey’s words, a mix of the alcohol and embarrassment. 
“Can we not talk about that?” Bob let out a chuckle.
“What? Worried he will find you were awake the whole time?” 
“Oh, don’t act like a fucking saint Bob. We all know the shit you got up to in college.” Reuben and Mickey laughed, Bob’s eyebrows knitted together. 
“No idea what you’re talking about.” An eye roll was all you gave him. 
“So when do you two fly back?” Mickey asked. None of you noticed Bradley reappear, two shots in each hand. A part of you had forgotten that bartending is what he did to help pay his way through college. 
“December thirty-first.” Bradley answered, setting the shots all down on the table. You passed him the water you had been guarding for him. The four of you with shots toasted, Bradley toasting his water cup to you all. The liquor burned as it traveled down your throat. You weren’t completely drunk, but there was definitely a thick haze wrapped around your mind. 
“Just in time for New Years.” Reuben said, leaning back and wrapping his arm behind Mickey’s chair. A small staring contest had started between you and Bob, his blue eyes intense with knowing. 
“Guess so.” A part of you knew Reuben’s words meant more than the obvious, but the last shot was already starting to catch up to you. The haze only got worse as the night went on. Natasha was fucking with Bradley at the dart board, teasing him after every shot. Jake, Javy, Mickey, and Reuben were all playing pool; teams of two which weren’t uncommon for them. Bob sat with you at the table, taking immediate notice to your zoning stare. 
“Hey, hey.” Bob waved his hand, breaking your trance and grabbing your attention. The haze in your brain was more intense than you initially thought. A small smile was what you offered him. Bob let out a sigh. 
“How you feelin’?”  He adjusted his glasses. The chatter from the rest of the bar was mind numbing, starting to overwhelm your brain. A nausea started to settle in your stomach, bubbling into your throat. Your hands ran over your face, everything becoming too much all at once. The sounds. Your friends. The trip. Bradley.
After your hands loosened from your face your eyes caught him. His mustache twitching upwards as he held Natasha’s final dart high and out of reach. It was the same look you had watched him give Amelia during your snowball fight. Something feisty but full of warmth and care. Similar to what a big brother would give his sister. It made you think about all the looks that Bradley had given you over the trip. 
They were nothing like the looks Amelia and Natasha got. Every time you had caught him looking at you there was a softness to his gaze. A type of adoration laced into it. It made you think if his look for you had always been like that. Not the goofy caring older brother look, but the one you only gave to lovers. The look that told you he would be there through thick and thin, never leaving your side when you needed him the most. 
Everything was starting to make your head spin. Bob had concern written all over his face now. Your delayed response was really starting to stress him out. 
“Water. Fresh air. I need it all.” Bob nodded, watching you start to struggle with getting your coat on. After that he wrapped an arm around your midsection, keeping you steady against his body. The two of you made it to the bar, getting a glass of water before heading outside. Bob held the glass of water until you two were outside, sitting on the smokers bench outside. 
It didn’t surprise you that nobody was out here, it was fucking freezing. But the cold was refreshing, keeping the liquid fire coursing through your body at bay. Bob handed you the glass of water, watching as you took small sips. He ran a hand through his hair, adjusting his glasses briefly. A silence settled between the two of you, both of you watching each visible exhale. 
“Why.” Bob looked at you, not sure whether you were actually asking a question or not. 
“Why what?” The water in your glass was comforting, slightly warmer than the air surrounding you two. 
“You know.” You turned your head a little, looking towards Bob. He did the same, giving you a melancholic look. “Feelings suck.” Bob let out a small huff, one that sounded amused. 
“It's not a bad thing, liking him.” His friendly smile returned. 
“I’m afraid it might be the ‘L’ word though.” You confessed. 
“Lesbians?” You gave him a playful swat, almost spilling your water in the process. You were impressed that he would quote Scott Pilgrim at a time like this. “I know,” he clarified, “and I think you do. Maybe you have for a while.” 
It was probably true. You had only thought of him as a friend for so long, it was hard to find the exact point you realized you cared for him more than that. All those late nights at the office and editing manuscripts together were starting to feel different. You wanted to say your feelings didn’t start til you were here, but that would be a lie. The double proof reads he offered you on manuscripts, the cups of coffee when you didn’t ask, even the way he lied about you being his girlfriend. It was all muddy and confusing, but it made you warm inside. 
“Bob,” it was barely a whisper, “I don’t know what to do.” Tears pricked at your waterline, a frown forming on your lips. Bob wrapped an arm around you, letting you rest your head against his  shoulder. He felt bad for you. It wasn’t because of the circumstances, it was because he knew that you truly didn’t know what to do. 
“I think you should get some sleep, then figure out what to do.” You nodded, the material of his carhartt coat rough on your cheek. “Don’t worry, you’ll figure it out.” 
Bob placed a kiss on the top of your head. He sat with you until you finished your glass of water. It was perfect timing really. Bob decided to go find Bradley, only for Bradley to walk outside in a slight panic. Relief flooded over him when he saw you with Bob, worried the asshole from earlier might have come back to find you. 
Getting into the car was a bit of a challenge. Alcohol always made it harder to use your legs, balance becoming difficult. Bradley helped you though, Bob awkwardly standing to the side. Bob didn’t want to leave until he knew you were good. Bradley finished buckling up your seatbelt, closing the door before talking to Bob.
“Thanks man, I got really worried when I couldn’t find her.” Bob nodded, patting Bradley on the shoulder. 
“Bradley,” Bob paused for a moment, “take good care of her. Nat’s told me, and I just, don’t hurt her.” Bradley nodded softly, not fully sure how to respond to Bob. 
“Well, I don’t even kn-”
“She does. Trust me, she does.” Bob said. He patted Bradley’s shoulder one more time before heading back towards the bar. 
Bradley slipped inside the car, looking over at your already sleeping form. A soft smile formed on his lips as he admired you. You looked so peaceful while drunk and asleep. He let out a sigh, chuckling quietly to himself. You made his heart ache in ways he never thought it could. Everything about you he adored, it had only taken some time for him to realize it. He twisted the ignition, figuring it was time to finally head home. 
Bradley kept a watchful eye over you the entire ride home, checking periodically to see if you were waking up or not. But you never did, not until the final stop in the driveway. Even then it took a few minutes for you to stir. Bradley didn't mind that though, being able to admire you for a few more minutes.
"Are we home?" A sleepy haze was still casted over you, eyes not fully open and words raspy.You turned inward, on your side a little bit as you stared at him. It looked as though you were fighting to stay awake. 
"Yeah." Bradley wished you would have slept a little longer, anything to prevent him from not being next to you. He turned towards you, watching as you leaned deeper into the seat of the car.
"I'm tired." Your voice was barely above a whisper.
"I know," Bradley smiled, "you slept the whole way here." You ran a hand over your face, yawning afterwards and closing your eyes. "How do you feel?" You shrugged. 
"Just sleepy." You had never wanted to sleep in the passenger seat more than in that moment. 
"Hey, hey, babe. Let's get inside, then you can sleep in a big warm bed, okay?" Bradley started to panic, thinking you had already fallen back asleep. The sleepy flutter of your eye lashes informed him otherwise. You nodded, unbuckling your seat belt and sitting up a little bit. Bradley watched you closely, unbuckling his own seat belt. “You good? Gonna throw up or anything?” 
“No.” Another borderline whisper. Even though there was a thick mixture of sleep and alcohol coating your brain, it hung onto that one word. Babe. Bradley exiting the car and coming around to your side didn’t even register on your radar. Suddenly your door was opening, Bradley with a big warm smile staring at you. Why was he being like this? There was no one around to watch this fake arrangement currently, so why? 
“Come on, babe. We gotta get you inside.” There it was again. Bradley wrapped an arm under your armpits, you placing one around his shoulders. It was awkward, him being taller than you, but you two made it work. 
The two of you made your way slowly up the small driveway, to the steps leading to the door. Bradley quickly unlocked it, still holding onto you so you wouldn’t fall. It was like your legs were jello, barely supporting your weight without his help. You caught yourself onto the small bench in the foyer-like room, slumping back against the wall. Your eyes were trained on Bradley as he closed and locked the door. 
“Haven’t been this drunk in awhile, huh?” He asked, taking his coat off and hanging it up. Slow-motion had taken over your brain, slowing your movements. You had never realized how hard it was to unzip a coat until that moment. Bradley watched you struggle for a moment, finding your struggle with the zipper a little adorable. He hadn’t seen you this drunk since college. 
“Here, let me help you, babe.” That time something clicked in your brain. You let him take over on unzipping your coat, only for a jumbled question to exit you. 
“Why.. Why do you keep sayin’ it?” Bradley’s face scrunched together. He was now kneeling in front of you, taking your boots off because he knew that’d be a task you couldn’t handle. At least in your current state. 
“Keep saying what?” Bradley helped you up, holding you close to him until you were stable. 
“There’s no one around.” He shook his head, still confused. He led you into the kitchen, headed towards the stairs. You tripped a little up the stairs, Bradley shifted your weight more onto him for the trip up the stairs. 
“I’m still not sure what you’re talking about.” Bradley said, the two of you stumbling towards the bedroom. The wood floor under your feet felt slick, balance evading you due to the feeling. Just before getting to the bedroom, the slick sensation had you tumbling towards the wall. Bradley caught you from falling completely, pressing you into the wall with his body. The weight of his body on yours had your mind spinning. It was the first time you had fully opened your eyes since getting home. The mixture coating your brain was immediately gone, clarity appearing out of thin air. 
Bradley’s eyes flicked down to your slightly parted lips. He wanted to kiss you so badly. It was like his mouth was salivating with need. His hazel eyes flicked back up to yours, taking in your wide eyes. Guilt immediately flooded over him, reminding himself of your current state and how this might come off.
“I- I’m just trying to hold you up.” Bradley stammered, pulling his body away from yours. 
“I know.” 
“I just don’t want you to think I’m trying to take advantage of you or anything.” Bradley suddenly felt nervousness bubble in his chest. 
“Bradley,” you let out a long breath, “you keep calling me babe. Why? Nobody is around for the charade, so why?” You gestured to the empty hallway, emphasizing the nobody being there part of your sentence. 
Bradley’s face scrunched together. He hadn’t noticed himself calling you babe, but looking back he definitely did. In the car, getting you out of the car, taking your boots off. He called you babe each time. He knew why, but he was now nervous to tell you. 
“Habit.” He whispered. That whisper caught your attention. You narrowed your eyes at him, one of your hands creeping up to touch the black t-shirt under his flannel. The words were on the tip of your tongue, threatening to spill out. I love you. But instead your hand balled into a fist, pulling on the fabric of the shirt. You pushed off the wall, letting go of his shirt. 
“Of course it was.” You said. Bradley raised an eyebrow, not sure what your response really meant. He remained silent though as you started walking towards the bedroom, one hand out against the wall for support. He stayed in the hallway for a moment, cursing himself for not just telling you the truth. He wanted you to be sober for that though, wanted to know you’d remember it. He knew you weren’t black out, but he didn’t want you to write it off as your imagination. 
When he walked into the bedroom you were practically nude. Your sweater was off, jeans on the floor, currently struggling to get your bra off. Bradley quickly placed his hands on your hips, steadying you when you almost fell over. A gasp passed your lips, his searing hot hands on your skin. Bradley tried not to focus on the sensation of your panties barely touching the edge of his hands. His hands ghosted over your skin, finding their way to the clip of your bra. Your hands moved to the front of your chest, holding your breasts. 
“Let me help you,” Bradley let out a shaky breath, “before you hurt yourself.” You nodded, feeling the strap of your bra loosen. Bradley quickly found your sleep shirt, standing behind you once more. You let your bra fall, covering your chest with your hands still. Bradley got the shirt over your head, moving the collar of it down around your neck. You grabbed at the hem of the shirt, pulling it down around your body and putting your arms through the short sleeves. 
Then Bradley found your sweat pants. He kneeled down in front of you, his face level with your panties now. It took everything in Bradley not to press a kiss to your hip. Instead he guided each pant leg around your ankles, you putting a steady hand on his shoulder. Bradley was sure that his skin was going to have a mark, the warmth of your touch branding him for good. Marking him as yours and only yours. Your hand stayed on his shoulder as he stood up, trailing to the nap of his neck. He held back a gasp when he felt your finger lightly play with his hair. 
This was the most intimate thing Bradley had ever experienced. Yeah, he had fucked people in the past, but this? Dressing his best friend that he also had feelings for? He wasn’t sure if he would ever experience anything like it ever again. It was so sweet and tender. Just like the look you were giving him. 
“Sleep with me.” You whispered. 
Bradley was a goner. 
He nodded, helping you into bed before changing into his own clothes. You watched him change, eyes wandering all over his body. He crawled in the bed behind you, arm moving around your midsection. He pulled you tight against him, his chest flush with your back. You hummed lightly, basking in the warmth you had grown to love over the past few days. 
Some remnants of alcohol were starting to affect you once again. Thoughts swirled in your brain, finally working up the courage. It wasn’t like you hadn’t told him it before, like when he brought you a surprise cup of coffee or paid for the late night take out. It would be different this time though. 
“I love you.” Bradley almost didn’t hear the borderline whisper, but he did. 
There was a pause, one that started to fill you with doubt and anxiety. A part of you wished to take it back. Wanting to have not fucked up your entire friendship. A hot breath appeared on your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. Bradley was leaning up towards your ear, wanting to make sure you heard every last word. 
“I love you, too.” 
-
Neither of you spoke about that night for the rest of the trip. There was a silent agreement established that night, Bradley sharing the bed with you. His makeshift bed was finally dismantled, and so did your denial of liking Bradley. After the drunken confession of your love, it was like a weight had been lifted off your chest. Bradley felt a similar sensation about saying it back. 
Penny and Pete both said you were more than welcome to come back. Amelia had mentioned she noticed something had changed between the two of you, but didn’t elaborate. So, you didn’t tell her what had changed. But you were sad to leave them, knowing that they were the ones inadvertently protecting you from conversation that needed to be had. 
But it never came. The entire car ride to the airport was almost a carbon copy of the previous drive. You got the GPS ready for Bradley then slept in the passenger seat. Bradley stole a few glances, trying to take as many mental pictures as possible. He was certain that whatever happened that night was a trip only occurrence. One he would never get the chance for ever again. 
The airport was almost empty, most people out celebrating for the New Years. Bradley told you that was the exact reason he booked the flight for New Years Eve. A forlorn feeling hung between the both of you. It felt like this was the end of the road. Neither of you had the courage to ask what was to happen now. You wanted to ask, ask if the two of you would be going back to occasional outings and late nights at the office. As much as you wanted to know, a part of you didn’t want to. If you knew, it would be final. 
Instead, you two only made small talk about the check in process. Casual jokes and borderline uncomfortable silences were exchanged before boarding. It was even worse on the plane. Bradley put his headphones in, flicking on a podcast to listen to while you curled up near the window. The rest of the flight was quick, the entire thing being only about two hours. The city that never slept had never felt more comforting when you got back. The drive from Queens to The Bronx was going to be long, the traffic of New Years in full swing. 
Music filled the space of the car, the two of you barely talking. The lights of the city teased you through the window. It was like they were poking and prodding your brain. Snowflakes hit the window and windshield, melting on impact from the warmth of the car. A dread filled the both of you as Bradley got closer to your apartment. It felt as though these bottled up emotions would stay as just that. Bottled up and left on a shelf in the back of your hearts. 
Even when Bradley pulled up to the curb, dropping you off, it was silent. Bradley stared straight forward, focused on the car parked in front of him. The sounds of your bags being pulled out of the car were clawing at his brain. They were the sound of his time running out. He could tell you at work on Tuesday, but maybe your feelings would be different by then. The closing on the backseat door pulled him out of his thoughts. You knocked on the window, gesturing for him to put it down. 
“Thank you.” You smiled warmly. “It was fun, meeting your family and seeing everyone. I’m glad I was able to help.” Your brain was screaming to say the three words, hoping he wouldn’t have forgotten the first time you said them. 
“Yeah, it was fun. Thanks for coming with and being my fake girlfriend.” Bradley wanted to kick himself as soon as he said it. He watched as your smile faded, giving him an affirming nod. 
“I’m gonna head up now. I’ll see you at work?” 
“Yeah, see you at work.” Bradley rolled the window up, watching you walk away. Your figure was altered by the droplets of melted snowflakes, making you seem more distant. Bradley felt a prickle at his waterline, knowing tears would be coming sooner or later. You opened the door for the stairway that led to your apartment, vanishing out of Bradley’s view. Bradley leaned back against the headrest, closing his eyes tightly. 
Tears threatened to pour down your cheeks the entire walk up the stairs. For once you hated that you lived on the third floor. Hated that it gave you so much time to think about the day. All of the never ending silence. It was clear that there was something broken between the two of you. The relationship strained or shattered. You quickly slotted the key into the door, knowing that once you were in your apartment you would be okay. It would mean you were safe. Safe to let out all of your emotions. 
But no tears fell once you crossed the threshold of your apartment. It was almost a numbing sensation instead. You slipped your coat off with ease, hanging it up by the door. The urge to put your suitcase and carry-on away disappeared. It wasn’t until you sat on the couch everything hit you. No sob wracked through you, only silent tears fell. The warm streaks heated your face, your lips turning into a small frown. 
A knock at your door had you wiping away the tears. You had no idea why someone would be knocking on your door this late. After getting to the door you checked the peephole, seeing a rather worked up looking Bradley. Confusion coursed through your body, not sure why he would be back. He let you go, what did he want now? You unlocked the door, opening it to see Bradley’s eyes widen. 
“Bradley, wha-” His hands cupped both sides of your face, smashing his lips against yours. You melted into the kiss, the hairs of his mustache lightly poking your upper lip. It was like something exploded inside of you, spurring you on to kiss him back. 
The two of you made it into your apartment, Bradley kicking the door closed with his foot. You tried trailing for his lips when he pulled back from yours. Even though your lungs were burning for air, you wanted to feel more of him. His forehead pressed lightly against your own, hazel eyes boring into your own. 
“I love you.” Hearing those three words from Bradley cracked the bottle, letting your emotions flow freely. 
“I love you too.” A tear fell from the corner of your eye. Bradley swiped it away, pressing his lips to yours once again. A river of passion flowed freely between the two of you. Your arms trailed up to wrap around his neck and shoulders; one of his hands ghosting down to your waist, the other cupping your jaw still. 
Teeth and tongue clashed while the two of you moved to the hallway of your apartment. The wall pressed into your back as Bradley pressed his hips into yours. A whine broke from you when you felt his semi-hard cock pressing into your hip. Wet kisses trailed down to your jaw and neck, the scratch of his mustache intoxicating. Bradley moaned against your skin when he felt you tug on the hair at the base of his head. 
“I’ve been wanting this all trip. Kissing you like this, having you pressed against me like this.” Bradley whispered into your ear, nipping at your earlobe. He pulled back to look at you, still cupping your jaw. His thumb softly rubbed your cheek, “I love you so much.”
“Why didn’t you kiss me that night?” The question passed your lips before you could stop it. Bradley nuzzled into the side of your neck, pressing soft searing kisses to your skin. 
“You were drunk.” Bradley slotted a leg between your thighs, rocking lightly to earn a moan from you. 
“Why not any other night?” Your words were breathy. 
“I didn’t know if you wanted it.” The hand on your jaw trailed down, cupping your breast over your knit sweater. Your hips bucked against his thigh, kisses trailing down your neck.
Both of his hands ghosted down to the bottom of your sweater, pulling it up over your body. Bradley marveled at the image before him. The person he had cared for for years looked so innocent before him. The soft pink bralette you wore enticed him, teasing him with what he could now have. It wasn’t until your arms pulled up to cover yourself slightly did his concern take over. 
A part of you felt nervous, finally having Bradley like this. Letting him see you so bare and vulnerable for him. It wasn’t his first time seeing you like this, a few college run ins and the instance during the trip. But this was different. You were offering your body up to him, trusting him to please you and care for every inch of you. It was subconscious when you shied away. 
“You do want this, right?” Bradley’s forefinger touched your chin, tilting your face. His hazel eyes were intoxicating and comforting. They let you know you were safe. You nodded. 
“I do, I want you.” Bradley pressed a soft kiss to your lips, mustache prickling your upper lip lightly. 
Strands of hair threaded through your fingers, you tugging softly to urge Bradley on.
Bradley picked up on it, hands ghosting down your sides to your hips. His tongue was soft on your lips, asking for permission to enter your mouth. His hips rocked into yours, you feeling his cock growing harder. Moans and whimpers fell from the both of you, rocking together while exploring each other's mouths. It felt like you were in high school again, the excitement of minimal contact vibrating through your body. 
Your fingers moved downward, trailing at the bottom of Bradley’s own sweater. He caught onto the hint, moving his torso back from yours to pull his sweater and t-shirt off. Rough yet soft fingers ghosted over the band of your bralette. The material felt almost as soft as your skin to Bradley, his cock twitching at the thought. His fingers trailed the material up to the strap that rested on your left shoulder. He eased it down, kissing at your shoulder and collarbone. 
“You’re so beautiful, so fucking beautiful.” The whisper on your skin sent goosebumps blossoming all over you. “I’ve been waiting so long for this.” Bradley’s fingers dipped below the band of your bralette, tugging up over your chest to expose your breasts. Your nipples were pert and eager for Bradley’s touch. 
One of your hands went to his hair, tugging as he took one of your breasts into his mouth. Your back arched off the wall, pushing your breast flush with his mouth. Gasps fell from your lips as his other hand came to your other breast, fingers pinching and playing with your other nipple. Bradley groaned against your tit, the vibrations traveling to your cunt. Your insides tightened, pleading you for more. 
“Bradley, please. I need more.” Bradley let your breast go from his mouth, pressing his hips tighter to yours. He rolled them, his cock rubbing at the apex of your thighs. 
“Tell me, Tell me you want me.” A red flush had grown up Bradley’s chest, adorning his neck and cheeks now. Your free hand trailed down his chest, the need to just touch him too great. 
“I want you to feel you,” the hand trailed up to his shoulder, “I want you to make love to me.” 
Bradley couldn’t hold back the groan that escaped him. He smashed his lips into yours, hands cupping your breasts before traveling lower. He made quick work of the button on your jeans, messily shifting your pants down your thighs. A small giggle bubbled out of you as you chased his lips, not wanting the kiss to end. 
He kneeled in front of you, easing your jeans off your legs. Small soft kisses littered the front of your thighs with the accompaniment of pricks from his mustache. Fingertips ghosted up the sides of your legs, gently guiding your panties down. The kisses traveled up your thighs to your hips, both of your hands diving into his hair. Two fingers ran through your folds, briefly touching that sensitive bundle of nerves. 
“Fuck, Bradley.” Bradley pressed his mouth to your folds, flicking his tongue between them. Your body lurched over him slightly, whining as his tongue ravished your clit. 
One of Bradley’s hands moved up to separate your folds, his tongue diving deeper between them. Small prickles of his mustache could be felt on your sensitive flesh, your fingers tightening in his hair at the feeling. The flicks of his tongue drove you crazy, a tense sensation in your abdomen forming. Your head fell back, moans pouring from your lips as Bradley continued his assault. 
“Your tongue feels so good.” It was barely above a whisper, laced with a moan as your hips started to push towards his face. 
Small ripples of pleasure coursed through you, adding to the imminent wave of pleasure that was about to crash over you. Bradley groaned against you, shaking his face back and forth on you. Bradley flattened his tongue, wiggling it back and forth across your clit. The motion was overwhelming, a shudder running through your body from it. You tried to pull him off of you, knowing if he kept it up you would be a goner. Bradley let you tug at his hair harshly, never budging from you. 
The wave of pleasure you had been anticipating crashed over you. Intense pleasure flooded your system, making it hard to think. All you could do was roll your hips against Bradley's tongue. Your hands kept him pulled tightly on you, mustache digging into your folds. Bradley didn't mind, the image of you unraveling on his face had his cock twitching in his jeans. The sounds falling from you were angelic to him. An endless mantra of his name with moans mixed in. 
"Brad-Bradley! Sto-stop!" Bradley finally pulled back, letting you get some much needed relief. There was a thin sheen to his mustache, the hallway light showing it at the right angles. 
"That was so hot." Bradley stood up, kissing you gingerly. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him in for an intense kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue, a small wetness prickling your upper lip. 
One of your hands trailed down his chest, earning a groan from him. Only the fabric of his jeans and boxers separated the two of you. His jean clad hips rolled into your bare ones. You cupped him through his jeans, reminding you of his size. With one hand you unbuttoned his jeans, pushing your hand into his boxers. Bradley pulled back, resting his forehead against yours while letting out a loud groan. 
"Fuck, babe, your hand feels so good." Feeling him praise you lightly sent a shudder through you, your insides clenching. 
His cock was warm and velvety in your hand, pulsing and twitching with each stroke. Bradley's head drifted to your shoulder, lips haphazardly kissing at the skin. Your touch was intoxicating, his brain going fuzzy as your strokes continued. A tightness in his abdomen had started to form. One of his hands grabbed your wrist, pulling it from the inside of his boxers. 
"As much as I'd love for you to continue, I need to be in you now." Bradley whispered against your skin. His words had you arching, nodding your head in agreement. 
The thought of his hard cock opening you up, stretching you until you couldn't take it had you moaning. Your tits were pressed tightly against his chest as your lips collided once more. You pulled back from the kiss, taking his hand and leading him down the hallway to your bedroom. He rid himself of his jeans and boxers as soon as he got to your room. Bradley had you on the bed quickly, hands groping and massaging your sides. His lips ghosted over your skin as he slotted himself between your legs. 
His cock rested against your folds, twitching every now and then. The two of you kissed, consuming everything the other had to offer. Bradley rolled his hips into yours. His cock pushed through your folds and rubbed against your clit. Your legs fell further apart, preparing yourself for the pleasure that was about to come. Bradley pulled back from you. Your eyes locked with his as he grabbed the base of his cock. 
The head of his cock prodded at your entrance. Bradley watched your lashes flutter while he pushed into you. A gasp falling from your lips as he continued. Your gaze never broke his those. He watched your face as you took all of him, filling you to the hilt. 
Once Bradley bottomed out, he started pressing kisses all over you. His hips were still as he littered you with kisses. Forehead, cheeks, neck, jaw, shoulders. All touched by the tender grace of his lips. Gentle roaming of his hands around your body kept you grounded in this reality. The two of you sat there for a few moments, him peppering your skin as your walls adjusted to his size. A kiss was pressed to your cheek before he pulled back to look down at you. 
“Hey.” The word was barely above a whisper, one hand moving up to caress your cheek. 
“Hey.” You whispered back, leaning up to kiss him. Bradley shifted his hips, pulling back a little before pushing back in. 
It was a soft rocking pace he created. His hips slowly rolled, his hands moving to hike your legs up around his waist. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, hand threading through his hair as he nuzzled into you. Moans and whimpers poured from the both of you, an occasional whisper of each other’s name. His pace picked up, hips moving slightly faster and harder.
“You feel so good,” Bradley groaned, “I don’t know how long I’ll last.” 
Every twitch of his cock you could feel. Your walls squeezed around him, earning a moan from the both of you. He slowed his thrusts for a moment, not wanting to come too soon. Bradley wanted this moment to last forever, even though he knew it wouldn’t. He stopped his thrusts completely, staying seated inside of you completely though. Bradley moved up to sit on his heels, looking down at you. 
His gaze raked over you, moaning when he saw his cock pressed into you. One of his hands settled between your breasts, trailing down to your hips. His thrusts picked back up, the new angle hitting that sensitive spot inside of you. Your walls were clenched tightly around him, the both of you letting your heads drop back. 
“If you do that one more time.” Bradley smirked as he looked down at you. You intentionally squeezed your walls around him, listening to the deep groan that emanated from his throat. 
“Or what?” You playfully joked. Bradley’s hands coasted down your legs, grabbing your hips tightly. 
“Or this.” Bradley almost pulled all the way out, his tip still inside of you. He rammed his hips forward, hitting that spot inside of you. Your back arched hard, an almost painful moan ripping from you. Bradley leaned back down over you, caging you in between his arms. 
“I love you.” Bradley whispered, kissing your neck and nibbling on your earlobe. 
“I love you, too.” Bradley kept up a softer pace, edging the both of you closer to your climaxes. 
It was one of the most intense orgasms you had ever experienced. All your muscles tensing as pleasure rocked through your body once more. Emotions flowed from you, Bradley’s name filling the space around the two of you. You carded your fingers through Bradley’s hair, letting him know you had him. Bradley’s hips were stuttering, whines falling from the both of you as he came inside of you. 
Hot breath beated against your neck as you two laid there. Bradley was still inside of you, laying on top of you as he regained his breath. You kept carding your fingers through his hair, almost a mindless action now. A shudder ran through you once Bradley shifted, propping himself up on his arm. His eyes were soft when he looked down at you. 
“Hmm?” You questioned. 
“Just looking at you.” Bradley said, leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek. “Happy New Years.” 
“Happy New Years.”
A whimper left you as he pulled out of you. A slick feeling replaced the new empty one, his cum dripping out of you. Bradley quickly hopped off the bed, heading to your bathroom to find a washcloth. 
“I’m sorry, I should have pulled out.” Bradley apologized, handing the warm wet washcloth to you. You shrugged, taking it to clean yourself. 
“As long as you buy the plan B.” Bradley smiled, nodding as he sat on the bed near you. He chewed at his bottom lip, nervous about the impending conversation. He had already put everything out on the floor. It was hard to take back ‘i love you’ while your entire dick was in someone. But it wasn’t like you hadn’t shared the same sentiment. You picked up on his nervousness though, reaching a hand out to touch his thigh. 
You tossed the washcloth across the room, silently cheering when it made it into the basket. Bradley took notice, elbowing you softly. “Nice shot.” 
“Thanks.” You stared at him for a little bit, taking in all of his features before speaking. “So, this?” You gestured between the two of you then scooted up the bed. Bradley laid back on the bed, you propping yourself up on your elbow next to him. Even though he was nervous, all he could think about was that you looked like an angel. 
“I love you,” Bradley started, “but more than a friend.” 
“Obviously, you goof.” You tried to keep a straight face, only to smile at him. “I love you, too. The trip really helped me see it.” Bradley nodded. 
“I knew before the trip. Well, for me, I did. Why else would you think I’d buy you so much coffee?” You lightly smacked his chest, his hand catching your hand. 
“I don’t know, maybe ‘cause you’re a good person.” You sat up, “I gotta pee.” 
“I am a nice person!” Bradley shouted as you took off for the bathroom. He got up, finding his boxers and slipping them on. 
He had been to your apartment many times, but only in your bedroom a few times. It was very you he noticed, now having the time to take it all in. There was a cork board on one wall. It was littered with pictures, ones from college and a few from the past few years. There was one specific one that stood out to him though. It was of the two of you, on that neither of you had taken. He had an arm wrapped around your shoulders as the two of you looked at one another. Must have been from an office party. It made him wonder if the two of you always looked like a couple to everyone. 
“What?” Bradley looked at you, taking in your new clothed form. It was only a baggy t-shirt and underwear, but god did he find it beautiful. 
“Just looking at these pictures. Wondering if we always looked this good together?” You bumped your shoulder into his arm playfully, looking at the same picture. 
“What are you implying?” You knew the answer, surely you did. Bradley turned to you, cupping your face with one of his hands. 
“I’m implying that I’d like to be in a relationship with you.” A flutter appeared in your chest when he pressed his forehead to yours. 
“I think I’d like that, too.”
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topgun-imagines · 10 months
Text
Something In The Orange
Requested: no
Summary: When Mav pulls Bradley’s papers, you have no idea. You only find out when your boyfriend dissapears in the middle of the night.
Word count: 3.6k
Warnings: smut, blowjobs, handjob, oral sex (male & fem!receiving) fingering, penetrative sex, foul language, loss of virginity, angst, break ups, crying, fights, insecurity, complicated relationships, drifting apart. Please let me know if I missed anything! 18+
Pairings: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x fem!reader
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Bradley was the first person that you ever really loved. The two of you had met during your junior year of high school. Ever since then, the two of you had become inseparable. You finally started dating the summer before your senior year. Bradley had applied to USNA and you had a scholarship to go to law school in Texas. Even though you had only been together for just over a year, you felt like you would spend the rest of your life with Bradley.
Now, you were riding shotgun in Bradley’s blue Bronco. You were on the way back to his house. His fingers were intertwined with yours as he pulled up to the sidewalk. Your boyfriend pressed a kiss to your knuckles as he shut the truck off. Hopping down, he rounded the front of the truck and opened your door for you.
The two of you walked hand in hand toward the door. The house that he, Mav, and Ice were staying in had light blue siding and a large white front porch. There was an American flag hanging from the roof of the porch and a large elm tree in the middle of the unfenced yard. Ever since Carole passed a few months ago, Mav and Bradley had been staying with Ice.
You were quiet as you slipped into the darkness of the house. The two of you giggled quietly as Bradley led you up the stairs and into his bedroom. The sound of the door clicking softly behind you mixed with your laboured breaths was all that could be heard in the tiny room.
Tonight was finally going to be the first time that you and Bradley had sex. And while Bradley had some experience in this field, you had no idea what you were doing.
Bradley’s hands settled on the side of your face as his lips moulded together with yours. You melted into the kiss, allowing his tongue to slip into your mouth when it traced the seam of your lips. A quiet, high-pitched whine escaped you as his tongue tangled with yours.
He pulled away a few seconds later, laughing quietly as his forehead knocked against yours. “You gotta be quiet baby.” There was a sheepish smile on your face as a blush crept up your chest. Mav and Ice were right down the hall. You didn’t need them to hear anything of what was about to happen.
Suddenly, Bradley’s mouth went bone dry at the sight of you sinking onto your knees. You stared up at him as you brought one hand up to palm him through his jeans. He tossed his head back in a moan as you squeezed him softly.
Your boyfriend was panting when he looked back down. Slowly, you started to pull the zipper of his fly down. Then, as if you were teasing him, you popped the button on his jeans before dragging the material down his legs. That left him standing in front of you in nothing but his boxers. The sight made your mouth water.
With wide eyes, you glanced up at Bradley. He nodded encouragingly and sucked in a sharp breath when you began dragging his boxers down his legs.
His cock slapped against his stomach as you pulled the fabric down. There was a look of concertation on your face as you reached a hand up and gripped the base of his dick. It was one that Bradley had seen so many times before, usually when you had your nose hurried in a book. This time, however, was much less innocent.
You began moving your hand up and down his length, stroking him until he was fully hard.
By the time you were satisfied, there was a few drops of precum leaking from the head of his cock. The tip was an angry red colour. The whole time your hand was moving over him, you had been transfixed by the sound of his desperate moans and whimpers.
Bradley noticed the hesitant look in your eyes as you stared at the way his hips bucked in desperation. His hand settled against the soft skin of your cheek. “It’s okay, honey. You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
You instantly began shaking your head. You wanted this.
Sucking in a shaky breath, you steeled yourself before tentatively wrapping your fingers around his cock once more. You gripped him firmly, leaning forward until your breath was ghosting across his tip.
When Bradley felt your puckered lips press a soft kiss to the crown of his cock, he had to stop himself from cursing aloud. You slowly began to grow more confident. Eventually, you were licking a stripe up from his balls to his tip, slipping the plush head inside your mouth afterward. That time, Bradley did curse.
You began suckling on the first few inches of his cock. You hollowed your cheeks as you began bobbing your head up and down, trying to recall any tips or tricks you had heard from your friends.
Bradley groaned above you, head tossed back against the door as his hand wove into your hair. A surprised moan vibrated from your mouth and through his cock when he tugged on your roots. Your tongue traced the vein on the bottom of his cock as you pushed yourself further and further down him until you were gagging around his length.
A choked gasp escaped him as he pulled you off his length. Bradley was panting as your hand continued to move slowly up and down his shaft. There was a devilish look in your eyes as your hand trailed down to his balls. You grinned as you squeezed softly, rolling them around in your hand.
“Get up, Honey,” His eyes were hooded, pleasure clouding the now-dark irises. You obeyed, standing before him as his hands gripped your hips. Harsh enough to leave bruises. You slipped your shirt over your head, grinning at the way Bradley’s eyes were focused on your tits. Your breath caught in your throat at the intense look in his eyes when he made eye contact with you. “I’m gonna make you feel real good.”
You allowed Bradley to lead you back toward the bed. Your knees hit the back of the bed, causing you to fall onto the soft sheets. Bradley knelt between your spread legs. Butterflies swarmed in your stomach at the hungry look in his eyes.
Before you knew it, Bradley was slipping your shorts down your legs. Your breathing grew heavy as he began peppering kisses over the supple skin of your thighs. He kissed his way up to your center, leaving delicate purple marks in his wake.
Soft moans escaped you as he began to press gentle kisses over your clothed cunt. The cotton slowly soaked through.
Bradley looked up at you, eyes silently asking if you were sure about this. When you nodded your head softly, he grinned. Seconds later, the fabric was being dragged down your legs slowly. Your eyes fluttered shut at the feeling of his tongue trailing up the inside of your thigh.
The next thing you knew his lips were wrapped around your clit, causing your hips to buck wildly off the bed. You moaned loudly. Bradley's eyes darted up to yours, a cocky smirk on his face. “You gotta be quiet, baby.” He reprimanded you gently.
Over the course of the next few minutes, Bradley ate you out like a starved man. He had your legs thrown over his shoulders, one hand gripping your leg while the other pinned your hips to the bed.
You did your best to control your moans, even going as far as biting your own hand to keep yourself quiet. Bradley’s tongue laved over your dripping hole. A high-pitched whine fell from your lips at the feeling of him slipping his tongue into your hole.
You could feel the pressure building in your lower stomach. The feeling kept building and building, so much so until you couldn’t hold back any longer. Just as you were about to fall over the edge, the feeling disappeared completely. “I want to cum around me.” His words alone we’re almost enough to send you over the edge.
He slowly crawled up your body, hands skimming gently over your soft skin. His hard cock brushed against your lower abdomen as he settled on top of you. You grinned up at him and he gave you a reassuring smile in return.
Bradley pressed a plethora of kisses to the side of your neck. Pleasured gasps tumbled from your mouth as your back arched off the bed. “Condom,” You moaned out. “Bradley get a condom.”
Feeling his body weight disappear for a few seconds, your eyes fluttered shut as you waited for him to return. When you felt the bed dip beside you, a flush began rising up your chest. Your eyes opened slowly, taking in the sight of Bradley kneeling above you, fisting his cock slowly. You moaned at the sight, watching as he rolled the condom down his length.
Nerves filled you as Bradley lowered himself onto you. “You ready baby?” You nodded, sucking in a shaky breath as he ran the tip of his cock through your folds. When it swiped over your clit you let out a sinful moan. Bradley groaned at the sound.
He stared deep into your eyes, reassurance shining through. Slowly, inch by inch, he eased himself into you. Your lips parted in a silent scream, suddenly overwhelmed by the intrusion. Bradley lowers himself down, cradling you to his chest as he whispered sweet nothings into your damp hair.
Before you knew it, Bradley was seated balls deep inside of you. You panted harshly at the stretch, eyes screwing shut at the foreign feeling. “Tell me when.” Your boyfriend's voice was low and raspy as he fought his hardest to restrain himself. You were clenching so beautifully around him that he almost lost it the second he slid in. You nodded distractedly, willing the slight discomfort away.
After a few minutes, you nodded softly. “Please just,” You murmured quietly, still trying to catch your breath. “Just be gentle.” Bradley smiled down at you. You knew that he would, you just needed to remind him.
Bradley began slowly rocking into you, only slipping out a few inches before pushing back in. You moaned at the feeling, eyes rolling back as his tip brushed against a spot so deep inside you it made you want to cry.
The only sounds that could be heard in the small bedroom were the sounds of yours and Bradley’s joint moans mixing with the sound of skin slapping on skin. Your boyfriend's hips rutted into yours quickly, drawing cry after cry from your parted and cracked lips.
Dropping his head into the crook of your neck, Bradley let out a deep groan at the feeling of your wet cunt clenching around his cock.
The feeling from earlier returned. You could feel the hot white pressure building, a coil tightening more and more with each of his sharp thrusts. You hardly noticed the way his pace grew sloppy. His warm breath fanned across the skin of your neck as you arched off the bed.
The sound of Bradley letting out a high-pitched whine had you gripping his cock like a vice. “Please Bradley,” You begged breathlessly. “‘M gonna cum,” Bradley nodded, eyes screwed shut as his hand drifted down to your core. “Fuck!” You exclaimed at the feeling of his fingers circling your clit in tight, precise patterns.
That coil was winding tighter and tighter, right up until one final nudge of his cock against that little spongy spot inside you sent you falling quickly over the edge. Bradley followed close behind, hot spurts of cum filling the condom as your cunt milked him dry. He continued to rock into you, working the pair of you through your intense highs.
He stilled inside of you a few seconds later. The pair of you continued panting as you wound your arms around his back. You stared up at the ceiling, a blissed-out grin on your face. you were so glad that you and Bradley had finally done that. All the nerves and worries from earlier had disappeared completely once Bradley first slipped in.
That blissed-out smile soon turned into a wince when he slipped out of you. He crawled off of you and dropped the used condom into the trash can. Bradley disappeared to the washroom. You followed on shaky legs. Bradley stood in front of the toilet, finishing his business before stepping over to the sink.
You sat down on the toilet and shot him a lazy grin. Once you were finished you flushed the toilet, cringing slightly at the sight of blood in the bowl. You had heard that that could happen but it didn’t make you any more comfortable.
Hand in hand, you and Bradley made your way back toward the bed, collapsing onto it in a fit of giggles. You snuggled together under the covers, your head resting on Bradley’s sweaty chest and his arm tucked under your shoulders.
Your eyes slowly fluttered shut, the post-sex haze making you feel sleepy. You tucked yourself under Bradley's chin, snuggling into the crook of his neck. “I love you, baby girl,” You heard him whisper. His arms tightened around you, pulling you closer into his warmth. “Please don't ever forget that.” You hummed quietly, murmuring something along the same lines. Your words were slurred as you allowed sleep to pull you under.
“I love you too, Brad.”
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The roar of Mav’s motorcycle was what woke you up in the morning. You stretched with a yawn, frowning when you felt the empty bed. You sat up, blinking quickly as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes. There was an orange glow streaming through the bedroom window and a quick glance at the clock told you it was just before 6 o’clock.
You got dressed slowly, guessing that Bradley and Ice were sitting downstairs having breakfast. However, the house was eerily quiet. Usually, when you stayed the night, you were woken by sloppy kisses being peppered across your face or the sound of Maverick and Ice laughing downstairs.
As you headed down the stairs, you continued to grow confused. You couldn’t even hear the scraping of utensils against plates. You rounded the corner into the kitchen, eyebrows furrowing when you found Ice sitting at the counter alone. He had a note clutched in his hands.
“Ice?” The sound of your voice caused his head to whip up. There was a sadness in his eyes, one that suddenly made you question why Mav sped off so fast this morning. “What’s going on?”
You sat down across from him, eyes the paper in his hand suspiciously. “Morning kiddo.” He had a sad smile on his face.
Worry grew in the pit of your stomach. “Where did Mav go? And,” You paused, glancing around the room in search of your boyfriend. “Where’s Bradley?” Ice almost didn’t want to tell you what happened.
He sighed, glancing between the note and your curious and oblivious eyes. “Look kiddo,” The Capitan started. He really didn’t know how to explain it to you in a way that wouldn’t destroy you. Honestly, he wasn’t sure that that was possible. “Just, just read this.” He handed the paper to you. It appeared as if had been crumpled and balled up multiple times. There were dark spots that you guessed had come from tears.
The letter was addressed to you and Ice. You found it odd that there was no mention of Mav. As you read through it, any hope that you had that everything was going to be okay died. It was from Bradley, explaining that due to the recent actions of Maverick, he couldn’t stand to live anywhere near Ice or Mav. He didn’t want them to have any say in what he did with his life. Nowhere in the letter did it explain why he wanted that.
“So,” You choked out, staring at the letter as you spoke to Ice. “What is this supposed to mean?” You stared at him, hands beginning to shake and tears welling in your eyes.
The older man stared at you with sympathy. “Bradley left last night,” A sob bubbled out of your chest. “Oh honey,” He cooed, pulling you into his chest as you cried. “Mav did something stupid and Bradley decided to leave,” His hand moved up and down your beck softly. “It’s not your fault.” He promised quietly.
You pulled back, breathing fast and hiccuping as you tried to calm yourself down. “Please Ice,” you practically begged him. “Please tell me that you’re kidding?” There was a sad smile on his face. You broke down into tears once again. “No,” You gasped out. You could feel your heart pounding on the inside of your skull. “He wouldn’t leave. Not after last night.” The reminder of what happened last night froze you in your tracks.
How could he do that after what happened last night? he knew how important that was for you. Apparently, it didn’t mean as much to him. Out of all the ways that you would have guessed this morning would go, either eating breakfast with your boyfriend’s makeshift family or sneaking out when no one was looking, you never thought that Bradley would have disappeared in the middle of the night. You never imagined waking up to find out that your boyfriend had left you without a goodbye after the night that you had spent together.
You had been there for him when Carole passed, holding him for weeks after he dealt with the loss of his mother. And now, he couldn’t even say goodbye or explain to you why he was leaving. There was hardly even a mention of you in the note he left. You thought that you at least meant a little more to him than that.
“What happened last night?” Ice’s question drew you out of your daydream. You shook your head. You felt as if you were going to be sick. Before Ice could stop you, you were rushing to the backyard, pacing around the deck as you sucked in laboured breaths.
The sliding door closed softly behind you, alerting you to the man's presence. Ice took a seat on one of the chairs, patiently waiting for you to explain why you were suddenly so distraught.
A humourless laugh escaped you. You couldn’t even begin to feel embarrassed about what you were about to admit, too consumed with a mixture of worry and betrayal. “We slept together last night. For the first time.” It was hardly a whisper and in the background noise of Miramar waking up, it was almost drowned out completely. And yet, Ice still heard you loud and clear. He heard the tremble in your voice as you spoke and he saw the way your hands shook.
Ice remained silent, watching as you stopped pacing. You set your hands on your hips, staring out over the fence at the rising sun. With a sigh, the Capitan stood from his seat and walked over behind you. “I just can’t believe he would leave.” You whispered brokenly. Bradley meant the world to you. It sucked learning that you didn’t mean enough for him to stay.
The pair of you stood on the edge of the deck in silence, Ice’s arm wound around your shoulders as he tried to comfort you. “I know,” He whispered. “I’m so sorry.” Tears fell down your face in steady streams as you came to terms with what happened.
Bradley had left. And as you stared at the orange hue tinting the sky, you knew that he was never coming home. You didn’t even get to say goodbye to him. Ice held you as you cried, wishing that this was all just a bad dream.
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You spent the rest of the summer trying to move on from Bradley. It didn’t work, you knew it wouldn’t, but you couldn’t deny the small sliver of hope in your mind that one day Bradley would come home. He never did, and so, in the fall, you boarded a plane for Texas. Ice had dropped you off. He saw the distant and longing look in your eye. The spark that had once been there had now died.
While you were away, you and Ice kept in contact. You hardly spoke to Mav. Ever since Bradley had left, the man that had once been like a father to you wanted nothing to do with you. Ice could have told you why but honestly, you didn’t want to know. Bradley hadn’t even bothered trying to contact you. You didn’t know whether you appreciated that he stayed gone, or if you resented him for ever leaving in the first place. Even if you didn’t want to admit it, you knew it was closer to the second option.
Years later you graduated law school and went on to become a lawyer. Time went on and eventually, you didn’t think of Bradley every day. There were some days when the memory would pop up again, reminding you of all the pain you left behind. Each time it happened, you wished that you could forget everything about that small town. But, you could never be able to forget Bradley Bradshaw. After all, he was the first man you ever loved.
a/n: Thank you all so much for reading! I hope everyone enjoyed this as much as I loved writing it ☺️ requests are open.
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767 notes · View notes
beyondthesefourwalls · 10 months
Text
This Love Came Back to Me (1)
Summary: You and Bradley hadn’t ended on bad terms; really, you stopped before the two of you could even truly begin. Still, in the last seven months, you had never completely left his mind. So when you suddenly appeared in front of him at the bar, asking for a favor and pulling him into a kiss, he thought maybe it was the perfect opportunity to see if this time, things could be different. But what neither of you realized was that there’s more going on than just rekindling a lost romance, and it might not be as easy as simply just wanting it. 
Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Reader (no use of y/n)
Warnings: second chance romance, language, allusions of smut and potential full smut, stalking, unhealthy obsessions, delusions of feelings, unwanted attention.
Part One Wordcount: 3.9K
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Bradley hadn’t noticed you at first, which wasn’t necessarily surprising. The Hard Deck was packed tonight, full of the regulars and those from the ship docked at port. He had to do a double take when he caught sight of you across the bar, but oh, it was definitely you alright. 
You had changed your hair since the last time he saw you, but he’d recognize those eyes anywhere. They were what drew him to you in the first place. Even now, his heart fluttered in his chest when they looked at him.  
It had been seven months since your break up and the last time the two of you had spoken. You hadn’t ended on bad terms; really, you ended before the two of you could even truly begin. The timing wasn’t right, with him being assigned to this special detachment and getting back to back deployments, while you were just starting a new job that kept you unbelievably busy. Your schedules rarely aligned and for the six months of your relationship, you spent more time apart than you did together, both of you struggling to communicate that you wanted to spend time together on the rare chance it was available. It was a mutual decision to let one another go, even if the deep connection you shared when you were together was better than either of you had ever experienced with other people. 
So seeing you now was a bit of a shock to him, but even more surprising was how you barely spared a moment after meeting his eyes before making your way toward him. You were moving with a purpose, weaving your way through the crowd of uniforms and civilians. 
“Hi,” you said as soon as you closed the distance between the two of you. You cut him off before he could respond with a greeting of his own. “I need a favor.” 
Bradley’s eyebrows raised, in surprise or disbelief, he wasn’t sure. You hadn’t spoken in months, and you were asking him for a favor? 
“It’s good to see you, too,” he responded with sarcasm dripping from his tongue. You rolled your eyes, glancing over your shoulder before turning back to him. He noticed for the first time the anxiety that was clearly written all over your face. He cataloged the tension in your shoulders and how you were snapping the hair tie you always kept around your wrist against your skin. It was a nervous tell of yours and even now, all this time later, he felt the urge to reach out to stop you.
“What do you need?” he asked instead. 
You took a deep breath, letting the words out quickly. “I need you to kiss me.” 
“Excuse me?” Bradley choked out a laugh of disbelief. 
You sighed heavily, opening your mouth to respond, when Bradley heard your name being called from a nasally voice near where you had been standing before. When he looked in that direction, he could see a man of minimal stature and build trying to shove his way through the same crowd you had just parted easily. 
“Bad date?” He asked, trying for humor to ease the tension he was starting to feel. Your face scrunched up like you were appalled at the thought and Bradley almost smiled at the look. Almost. 
“God no.”
Seeing you again was throwing him for a loop. That was enough to tell him that he shouldn’t get involved in whatever this is. But he had always had a soft spot when it comes to you, had thought of you often since you parted, and his instincts were telling him something was off. The urge to protect you was just as present now as it was before.
Bradley briefly flicked his eyes toward the man before looking back at you. He felt a twist in his gut at your discomfort. Despite knowing how this could blow up in his face and fuck with his emotions all at the same time, he found himself taking a step closer to you. 
“What’s going on?” he asked, voice lowered so that it was only for you. 
Your eyes closed when your name was called again, the voice slightly closer. You groaned as you opened them, your gaze pleading with him. “I’ll explain later. Please, just go with it? I really don’t want to go kiss a stranger instead.” 
He barely had time to nod before you were closing the remaining distance between your bodies, rising on your tiptoes and wrapping your arms around his neck as you pressed your lips against his. 
Wildly, his first thought was if you still favored the transfer proof lipstick or if you would be leaving a pink stain on his lips. 
His second thought, though, was, oh, fuck. 
Bradley’s hands fell naturally to your hips. He squeezed the flesh through the denim of your jeans as he returned the kiss. His mind fogged over with how good it felt to feel you against him like this again. It was like no time had passed at all as those same sparks he felt a year ago shot through him now. You gasped against his mouth and he wondered if maybe you felt the electricity too. 
Right when he was about to give in to his desire and deepen the kiss, he heard your name again, coming from directly behind you this time. You pulled away from him slowly, your breathing intermingling with his. When your eyes fluttered open, he was already looking at you. You were calmer than you had been when you first approached him, and there was an open look of wonder and something suspiciously like want as you gazed back at him. Your lips were slightly parted and he swallowed thickly. 
He wanted to kiss you again. Based on the look in your eyes now, he didn’t think you’d push him away. 
“Hey!” 
That same voice was sharper now. Bradley felt annoyance settle over him both at the tone he was using in your direction and the way he felt you tense up again before you turned to face the intrusion. 
“Paul,” you spoke, your voice flat. Bradley took the other man in now that he was closer. He found himself unimpressed at the wrinkled khakis and tucked-in flannel shirt covering his shorter frame, red hair laying flat on the top of his head. 
“I was calling for you.” 
His voice was grating like nails on a chalkboard. Despite how utterly un-intimidating he appeared to be, though, he was staring at you in a way that made Bradley’s spine straighten. 
“I must not have heard you.”
It was clearly a lie, and he had to fight from showing his surprise at how you weren’t even masking the obviousness of it. He squeezed your hip briefly in what he hoped was reassurance and let his hand rest there when he stepped beside you. You settled briefly back into his arm and he knew it was a silent sign of appreciation. He tried not to read too much into the fact that you needed no words to communicate that. 
“That’s okay,” Paul reassured you quickly with a too eager smile on his face. His eyes trailed up and down your body. It was almost like Bradley wasn’t even standing there.  “You look so pretty tonight.” 
You didn’t say anything, but Paul continued on without allowing you much time to respond anyway, “I want to buy you a drink. Come on.”
He stepped forward and extended his arm to reach for you. You angled your body away from him at the same time that Bradley wrapped his arm more securely around you. He cleared his throat loudly, drawing the other man’s attention away from you for a moment and halting his progress. Paul’s lip curled up in disgust when he noted his presence at your side. Instead of speaking to him, though, his blue eyes went back to you.
“Why were you kissing your friend?” There’s a certain emphasis on the last word that didn’t go unnoticed by either of you. Alarm bells started to ring in his head and though Bradley had told himself he would let you lead, when you started snapping the hair tie against your wrist again, he couldn’t stay quiet anymore. 
“I’m her boyfriend, actually. Who the hell are you?” 
The words came out before he could really register the implications of them, but to your credit, you don’t show surprise at them, either. Instead, you wrap your arm around him in return, your side melded into his. He moves the arm that was at your hip to wrap around your shoulder. 
Still, though, Paul doesn’t look at him. His nostrils flared and his fist curled at his side, but he never took his eyes off you. “You don’t have a boyfriend.” 
Bradley had never been so blatantly ignored in his life and this guy was really, really starting to piss him off. 
“That’s funny, because I’m standing right here. Bradley Bradshaw. Now I’ll ask again - who are you?” 
Paul finally met his eyes. If he wasn’t so tense, Bradley thinks he might have found some amusement in how the color drained from his face as he really looked at him for the first time. He gulped, opening and closing his mouth a few times as he searched for something to say. 
You sighed. It came out slightly shaky, and Bradley cataloged that as another mark against this guy. 
“This is Paul. We work together,” you explained. That’s an interesting development; you must put up with this everyday. Briefly, the thought of how he had no place in your life anymore to be as concerned as he was flashed through his mind. But you were the one that brought him into this, and it was too late to backtrack now.
Bradley hummed in response to your words as he contemplated how he wanted to play this. He wanted to tell the guy to back off and never speak to you again. Or put his fist in his very punchable face for how uncomfortable he made you. But he reeled himself in; he wouldn’t do that until after he heard the full story from you, if it was necessary. He knew for certain, though, that the first order of business needed to be to get you away from him in the here and now. 
“I actually already ordered us drinks, so you’ll have to excuse us.” Without another word,  Bradley turned the both of you away. With his arm still wrapped tightly around your shoulders, he guided you to the other side of the bar. Paul called your name one more time but it went ignored. 
“I’m so sorry,” you said, but Bradley shook his head as he kept walking steadily forward. 
“Will you let me buy you a drink?” he asked instead. 
“You don’t have to. I shouldn’t have pulled you into this.”
“Too late now, Bug.” The nickname slipped out before he could stop it. It was something he had called you since your second or third date, when a ladybug had landed on your nose and even after you had swatted it away, it kept coming back. He had laughed and said something about how maybe it was a sign you were a good luck charm, and how maybe it meant your relationship was lucky. It made his stomach twist thinking about how he had been wrong back then. 
He pushed forward before he could dwell on how much he hadn’t realized he missed saying it. “Please. Let me buy you a drink, at least until he leaves?”
You met his eyes and must have found what you’re looking for, because you slowly nodded your head. There were two open seats at the end of the bar - Bradley guided you to sit in the one that would allow him to be on the very end, angling himself toward you while your back was to the rest of the bar - Paul included. 
You must have ordered your drink before this all started, because Penny slid a glass that had already gathered some condensation in front of you along with a bottle of Bradley’s regular. He thanked her, requesting they both be put on his tab before she walked away. 
He watched you quietly for a moment as you took a sip. It was the first time he had really been able to take you in. There was stress written all over your face and tension in your shoulders. Your normally bright eyes were duller than he had ever seen them. Regardless of all of that, though, you were just as beautiful as he remembered; you were still you. 
“Are you alright?” he asked you gently. 
“I’ll be okay,” you assured him with a tight, small smile. He didn’t miss how you avoided answering if you were okay right now. “Bradley..I’m so sorry.” 
“There’s nothing to apologize for.” 
You stared at him in disbelief, but he did his best to keep his face steady and reassuring. After a moment, you sighed, and the look on your face settled into something more genuine. “It’s really good to see you.” 
“Yeah,” he agreed easily, a smile tugging at his lips, “it’s really good to see you, too.” 
He stared at you for a long moment and you stared right back. It had always been easy to get lost in your eyes and it seemed like that hadn’t changed with time. 
While he hadn’t seen you, he had thought about you more often than he would ever admit, even to himself. He had met you on a dating app. After weeks of one or two messages here or there with several different women, you were the first one he had a full conversation with after you messaged him with an absolutely god awful pilot joke that genuinely made him laugh. You had talked back and forth for a few weeks before he finally got the courage to ask you for drinks. The connection he had with you was instantaneous and special. He truly thought that if the timing and communication was better, you could have been the one. Instead, he had thought of you as the one that got away.
And now here you were, sitting right in front of him. When he had thought of running into you again, this wasn’t a scenario he had never considered. 
“Do you want to tell me what just happened?” he asked softly. 
The smile fell from your face and Bradley almost wished he wouldn’t have brought it up. You took another sip of your drink before setting it down on the bar and folding your hands in your lap. “Paul works in my department. He took a liking to me when he started a few months ago and has been very…persistent with it, lately.”
“How did he know where you'd be tonight?”
You sighed, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “Honestly? Not really sure. Maybe he heard me talking about it with one of my coworkers today? I think I may have mentioned it in passing at one point.”
Your words made him feel uneasy. You didn’t sound confident in the reasoning you gave; the red flags were blowing brightly right in front of him. But he could see how anxious you were getting, too, and decided to tread lightly. 
“What are you doing here, anyway?” He asked, “No offense, but The Hard Deck isn’t really your scene.”
He had brought you here a handful of times when you dated, but had never entertained the thought of you coming here alone. For a brief moment, he feared you were actually supposed to be meeting another date here. 
“I was supposed to be getting drinks with a friend of mine and her new boyfriend to meet him, but they bailed. I didn’t see the text until I was already here,” you explained. The shot of jealousy that he had felt dissipated.
“Ah.”
“What about you?” you asked, clearly trying to steer the conversation away from the red headed problem in the room. He would let you, for now, simply because maybe it would mean extending the conversation for a little bit longer. He knew he was beginning the descent down a slippery slope. Truly, he couldn’t bring himself to care too much. 
A sudden look of horror crossed your face before he could answer your first question. “Oh my God. You aren’t meeting a girlfriend, are you? I just kissed you!”
He chuckled into his beer bottle, shaking his head as he took a sip. “I’m single.”
You sighed in relief. “That’s good. Glad I’m not an unintentional homewrecker.”
Bradley laughed again. He was pleased when, after a moment, you started giggling too. The sound had always made him feel a little warmer. He chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment, contemplating his next question. He decided just to go for it; there was really nothing to lose at this point. 
“Are you?” 
You looked at him curiously and he cleared his throat, feeling a blush creep its way up his neck. “Single. Are you?” 
“Oh!” you exclaimed. You snapped your hair tie once before you answered. “Yes. Very.” 
He didn’t immediately know what he wanted to do with that information, but combined with the way you were looking at him, he knew that there were at least a few possibilities to consider. You must think the same because without further prompting, you were asking him what he’s been up to lately. 
He wasn’t sure exactly how much time passed as you caught up on your lives for the last seven months. His deployments had calmed down as he turned into being more of an instructor. Your work had gotten crazier. You swapped stories back and forth and it transitioned into discussing current events and the hobbies both of you had either let go or taken up. 
The bar became busier as the night got later and when the people behind you started to get a little rowdy, he pulled your bar stool closer to his. Your feet were hooked on the metal at the bottom of his chair between his spread legs and his hands rested on the outside of your thighs. Bradley could smell your perfume with how close you were. 
Buying you one drink turned into buying you two, and it was so nice, being here with you like this. 
“You’re staring at me,” you accused, smirking into your glass as you finished your second drink. 
“You’re nice to stare at,” he answered easily, not bothering to deny it. “I think you’ve gotten more beautiful since the last time I saw you, Bug.” 
“I have not,” you laughed lightly and shook your head. But even as you disagreed with him, he could see the goosebumps break out on your skin. 
“You have,” he insisted. He reached up to tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear and delighted in the way your eyes fluttered closed for a moment and your body shivered. Seeing that he could still cause these reactions in you sent a thrill through him that raised his body temperature. “You’ve always been the most beautiful woman in the room in my eyes.” 
“Oh please. I’m sure there have been plenty of women prettier than me lately,” you rolled your eyes in that self-deprecating way you tended to do, but Bradley was shaking his head before you were even done speaking. 
“There hasn’t been anyone.” 
You froze, meeting his eyes from where you had let them fall to the ground. He didn’t flinch, needing you to see just how serious he was. Your lips parted in surprise, but you sucked in a breath and let your hand come up to play with the buttons on his Hawaiin shirt. 
“There hasn’t been anyone else for me, either,” you admitted quietly. 
His hands rubbed the denim that covered your thighs and he leaned forward on his stool. 
“Then why aren’t we still together, Bug?” 
You drew your bottom lip between your teeth, releasing it quickly as your eyes flickered down to his lips before meeting his dark gaze again. “I’m really struggling to remember right n-” 
His lips were on yours before you could get all the words out. You gasped against his mouth and he took it for the opportunity it was to deepen the kiss. He groaned as his tongue tangled with yours. You tasted even better than he remembered. One hand trailed higher up your leg, his fingers hooking into one of your belt loops as he brought you even closer to him. You whimpered into the kiss and tightened your grip on his open shirt as you matched his pace just as perfectly as you always did. Breathing eventually became an issue and he pulled away from you slowly and reluctantly, pecking your lips twice more as he did. Your chest heaved as you fought to catch your breath. Your eyes were hooded and damn, he had missed you so much. 
He was about to lean in to kiss you again when he caught a flash of red and flannel in his peripheral vision. He scanned the thick crowd of people and it didn’t take long for his eyes to find Paul, hovering near the wall on the other side of the bar with a direct line of sight to where you were sitting. The almost possessive look on his face as he stared had Bradley tightening his grip on you, the same protective instinct from earlier washing over him. He had gotten so caught up in this reunion that he had almost forgotten the cause of it in the first place. 
He wasn’t looking at him for long before you cupped his cheek and brought his eyes back to yours. “Don’t worry about him.” 
Bradley’s eyebrows furrowed at how you didn’t seem overly surprised at the fact that your coworker was still there, and how you were speaking like it was a common occurrence to feel his beady little eyes on you. He wondered just how much more there was to your earlier story. He swallowed down the urge to ask you about it right now, but he couldn’t tamper the need to get you away from him, again. 
“Let’s get out of here,” he said. He moved first, and when you gracefully stood from your bar stool, he pulled your body flush against his, leaning down for another kiss. The tension that had reappeared in your shoulders slipped, and he vowed that he would do whatever he could to keep it that way, for as long as you let him.
“My car is in the parking lot,” you supplied, slightly breathless from the kiss.
“Will you let me follow you home?” he asked. You bit your lip, searching his face, before you nodded.
“I’d like that.” 
Bradley wrapped an arm around your shoulder after he threw down enough money on the bar to cover the tab and the tip. He placed a kiss to the top of your head as you made your way to the door. He looked over his shoulder as the two of you walked out, searching the room for the man that had put you both on edge, but he was nowhere to be found. 
--------
Part Two :: Series Masterlist :: Main Masterlist
Notes: This story was meant to live in the abyss of lost stories that is my Google Docs. It only exists because @mak-32 and @roosterforme never let me forget it. After literal months of not touching it, I finally picked it back up. Thank you both so much, and for dealing with all the freak outs I’ve had to get to this point (and will continue to have lol). And double thanks to Mak for the AMAZING banner!
I really hope everyone enjoys this. It’s going to be a ride🖤 Likes/comments/reblogs are the best encouragement.
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How did you get so good?
summary: you've never had a one-night stand and honestly, it shows.
prompt: when they just finished hooking up and he says "I just had my tongue inside you, you can start calling me by my first name," she *forgot* his name.
words: 2.8 k
playlist: I mean for this fic, is this one.
warnings: smut. like pure dirty smut, smut like i've never written before. i mean it. I've been obsessing over Rooster and I just like I wanted to write something and I have a couple of things but this was just self-indulgent, also I need practice for what's coming with 18.
bradley ‘rooster’ bradshaw masterlist
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You usually weren’t the type to do a one-night stand. 
In fact, you were the opposite of doing such a thing. Nonetheless, when you were summoned back to Top Gun after years for a high-level mission after you’d just broken up with your fiance, you realized that you needed to live a little more, especially since if you were chosen and for some strange reason you didn’t make it, you didn’t want to regret it. 
Therefore, you weren't too close off when you were presented with the tall and tanned handful of handsome pilots that boisterously moved toward you. Instead, you chose to give them a little smile, play pool with the tiny white summer dress that you decided to wear and glance at them through your lashes, sipping on your drink slowly as you wondered who the best candidate could be. They all introduced themselves to you, always chuckling a bit as they heard your call sign, which was the usual reaction when they heard “y/n ‘Brat’ y/l/n”
But then, the first four chords rang out of the piano, and your knees when weak. 
“You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain. Too much love drives a man insane. You broke my will but what a thrill, goodness gracious great balls of fire!” he sang, his voice deep and deliciously raspy, you felt your heart jumping as you turned to where the voice came from. 
He was taller than anyone in there, you could see it just by the way he was moving with the piano. Sun-kissed skin, sandy-brown hair that turned gold with the certain light of the room, broad shoulders, and a pornstache that would look awful on anyone except him. That’s how you’d first seen him and you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him after that, and when they introduced you two, he couldn’t look away either, instead, he looked at you unashamedly. 
“...‘Rooster’ Bradshaw,” he announced as his palm slid into yours but you could only focus on his honey-burnt eyes and his smile.
“y/n ‘Brat’ y/l/n,” you muttered as your cheeks burned, his lips quirked up when he heard your call sign. 
After that, the night turned into a blur and you weren’t sure exactly how you ended up on the side of the blue bronco as gentle moans that were muffled with his palm left your lips while your eyelashes flutter as he rocked his hips forward against your core, his large hands gripping your hipbones so harsh that you knew bruises would appear tomorrow. 
“y/n,” he breathed out and you whimpered. “Get in the car,” He warned, his voice husky as he pressed his forehead to yours while his eyes remained shut, almost as if he opened them, he would fuck you open right there and then, in front of everyone. 
You also weren’t aware of how quickly he’d manage to reach his place since you were too busy being a moaning- whimpering mess as his hand climbed through your thigh and into your core. But you didn’t miss how he met your gaze, the look on his face said it all. “You are soaked, darling,” he whispered and you felt like crying as his thumb started to stroke a delicate pattern against your clit.
It all turned into a mess once he opened the door for you, as you stumbled through his porch, already pulling down the annoying Hawaiian shirt he’d worn that night and you were sure you’d left it outside once he’d managed to open the door to the small cottage he called home while you were already kicking your shoes off and fumbling with his belt. You continued to kiss as you enter the house and he let you down, your hands moving up and down, finding fabric and occasionally skin, moving, finding, touching, discarding clothes, more touching. 
It was a miracle you’d manage to reach his bed, honestly. 
But against all odds, there you were. In bed with the most handsome man you’d ever met, a man you’d met barely hours before, whimpering for him, moaning for him as you felt how hard he was in his boxers when he moved his hips against you. 
“Rooster, don’t tease” you breathed out as he struggled to undo the zipper of your dress, too distracted by the way you were bucking your hips forward to his while placing your hands on the small of his back, hurrying him up to fuck you already without saying it but you knew, he knew.
You were impatient for him. 
“You really are a brat, you know?” he murmured as his hands traveled from the zipper of your dress to the cotton panties that you were wearing. He hooked the fingers and pulled your panties down slowly before colliding his lips against yours, it was a bruising kiss, so fucking needy that it made you dizzy. 
Without warning, he’d pressed a hard thumb into your slit and you jolted, quickly your nails dug into his back and you were sure that there would be a pattern of crescent moons on his back tomorrow. As one of his hands stroked you, rubbing and flicking, his free arm fell into the side of your head while his nose pressed right under your chin, giving him access to your neck as you let out a silent moan. His knuckles pressed themselves into your clit and you felt your knees shaking, your walls clenching at nothing. You feel like crying. 
“Does that feel good, darling?” he muttered as he licked your neck and you couldn’t answer because he soon pushed two fingers into you and you screamed at the stretch while he watched you carefully. “I bet that feels good,” he whispered against the shell of your ear and you could swear you hear his smug smirk. 
His fingers speed up, forcing your entire lower half to vibrate and your knees began to shake. If you were doing this against his car and if he wasn’t holding you, completely supporting you with his body weight, you knew you’d have fallen over by the way he was touching you.
“Fuck,” you moan as you roll your hips against his hand, chasing your high, feeling yourself growing closer but then, Rooster withdrew his fingers altogether, you furrowed your eyebrows and you sighed in frustration as you pushed yourself onto your elbows, wondering where he went. 
“What the fu-FUCK,” 
That was the only thing you managed to say because Rooster’s face was already buried between your thighs. He pressed his tongue against your core, making you shudder. One of your hands quickly slid up into his golden curls as your head fell back against the bed. His nose pressed into your clit and his tongue teased your entrance and you couldn’t help but curled your fingers in his hair, tugging harshly at his roots, eliciting a groan from him.
And you screamed. 
You fucking screamed because there’s no way that he could be that good. His tongue expertly moved against you and you didn’t know if you were just hypersensitive from the earlier assault with his fingers but it felt like heaven as you felt his tongue working you open. You raised your head for a second and even in the dizziness, you watched as his shoulders muscles flexed as he used his strength to push your hips down, preventing you from squirming which only caused you to moan louder, and soon he noticed because those beautiful honey eyes met with yours and you realize how pretty he looks there. 
The sight alone made your vision go blurry as you aggressively fucked his face. And he complies, he growled against you and the vibration made you snap, as you fall into the bed. He then guided two fingers inside of you, giving you something to clench around and you began to see white spots on your vision. He continued to hold you down, as he gently sucked on your clit and worked on you with his fingers, your walls clenching around them and you just knew it was right there. 
But then he stopped.
“Who said you could stop,” you grumbled, throat sore and raw because of your screams, and Rooster chuckled while he shook his head before he kissed you softly, you could taste yourself on his tongue and you moaned at the taste. 
“Honey, I want the first time you come to be on my cock,” he muttered against your lips. Your eyes fell on him and you saw how he got rid of every one of the items of clothing he had, he was simply pumping his cock, preparing it for you. 
You whimpered at the sight as you struggle to say anything. “Just fuck me,” you breathed, you pleaded. His lips quirked again and soon his cock pushed at your entrance. You gasped against his mouth, digging your fingernails into his back as he stretched you. He was big, he was the biggest you’d ever had and you winced a bit as he fully sank into you. 
“You are doing so good, darling,” his voice was gruffer as he kissed your face while you adjusted to his size. You moan loudly, mouth wide open as you gasp for air. Your body adjusts to the feeling of being full; stuffed beyond capacity, beyond everything you thought that it was possible. “You look so pretty like this,”
You were sure that he’d just ruined men for you. He was so good and you just couldn’t understand how tender he could be, he was a true gentleman. 
You whimpered under him as he began to move slowly and in one second, when his pelvis rolled forward, your clit managed to rub against the base of his shaft, and your nails dug into him. He growled and you were gone. You began to kiss his neck eagerly as he drove his hips forward, drawing sweet moans from your lips as you arched your chest up against his while your walls clench at the movement, soon he found a steady pace and your skin felt like it was on fire, burning up as if you just entered hell. 
But this? This was your heaven. 
“Faster,” you cried. “Faster, Rooster,” 
He complies with an incoherent noise of vague agreement as he lifted you from the bed and placed you on a desk nearby, things fall over and you were pretty sure something broke but you don’t care because of the way his hips snapped against yours and how he fucked impossibly deeper into you against the mahogany desk.
A growl escaped his throat as he ducked forward to kiss you, fucking you faster and harder, using all his strength to drive himself into you. He was unrelenting in his pace, rapid calculated thrust as he continued piercing you on his cock and you couldn’t help the tears of pleasure than came from your eyes by the way he moved. 
You screamed, you moaned, you whimpered. 
You even cried out his name again and didn’t realize it until he kissed your jaw and muttered “I got you darling, cum for me,” he groaned as he pepper your throat with feverishly kisses and you simply pushed your legs apart from him. 
Then, the tip of his cock brushed impossibly deeper into you, making you cry and you just knew you were there. You quickly began to kiss him, tongue moving against yours as his hand worked skillfully against your clit, he groaned loudly against your lips as your pussy contracted around his cock, squeezing him for all that he was worth. 
Your entire body tensed up. The coil on your stomach snapped and you screamed and Rooster continued to fuck you through your orgasms, before he came undone, pulling you impossibly close against him and continued to drive himself as deep as he could go. Your walls continue to squeeze him, fluttering around his throbbing cock as he stuffed himself into you. You were sure that you heard your name but you were too dizzy to even think about it. 
You both stayed there for a moment, panting before he left soft kisses on your neck and chest, holding you until you stopped trembling and he also stopped shaking. It takes you a couple of minutes to actually say anything or even move, the room doesn’t stop spinning immediately but soon Rooster carried you to his bed, still inside of you, and you feel comforted by it, he pushed the hair out of your face, his thumb tender against the side of your cheek. 
You closed your eyes and he kisses you until you fall asleep. 
You were woken by the sunlight on your face and a buzzing from your phone, it was 6:00 am and you needed to be on the base at 6:30 am. 
You stretched your arms and found nothing, the sheets were wrinkled and you could hear Rooster in the other room. You sighed, you realized that you’d broken one of the rules about one-night stands, you slept over. Cursing yourself, you tried to stand up as best as you could but honestly, you weren’t even able to walk completely straight. You brush your hair while looking at yourself in the mirror of the room, hoping that you didn’t look too fucked but it as a lost battle. You did what you could before you focus on retrieving your panties from somewhere in the room, between the discarded clothes that he had left on the room also the items that had fallen from the desk hours before indeed you had broken a glass of water but neither of you seemed too interest in cleaning up. 
It took you a few minutes to find your panties but thankfully, you hadn’t removed the dress, so you weren’t completely naked. Nonetheless, you know your purse and your shoes were somewhere in between the entrance of his house and the room, therefore you counted to fifty before you walked out of the room, as nonchalant as you could. 
He was in the kitchen, in all of his tanned and ripped glory, only wearing a pair of grey shorts that hang low on his hips. You couldn’t help but smile at the smell of the coffee and even smirk a bit once you see the red marks on his back, neck, and arms. It takes a few minutes for him to notice you but once he does, god, his eyes were practically beaming. 
“Morning, y/n,” he said, bringing the cup of coffee to his lips, his eyes looking at you unashamedly.
“Morning, Rooster,” you say as you try your best to walk as straight as possible as you reached for your shoes that were indeed left on the floor, but you notice how his lips are turning up when he realizes that you really can’t walk as usual. “I really have to go for my uniform,” you said sweetly, as you also picked up your purse from the floor. 
“I can take you,” he offered with a bright smile and you rolled your eyes, he was indeed a gentleman. “You know, I just had my tongue inside you, you can start calling me by my first name,” he said softly before he winked at you.
And your heart stopped because to the best of your abilities, your mind couldn’t seem to remember his name. You curse mentally as you try to recall the moment that he introduced himself but you can only remember his call sign and his last name. Soon, your cheeks heat up and you were sure that your whole face turned into a splotchy red, not a cute light blush. Under normal circumstances -at least that’s what you’d assumed- since it was a one-night stand you shouldn’t have needed to remember his name, instead you should’ve left in the early hours of the morning without so much as a goodbye. 
But now you were here and you could feel his gaze burning you while you tried to avoid his eyes by leaning into the counter.
“Oh my god,” he muttered as he let his coffee mug down.“You don’t remember my name?” he asked, and a hand goes to his uncovered chest with a dramatic gasp. 
You couldn’t help yourself, opting for covering your face with your hands. “I’m sorry,” you whispered as you felt him walking around the counter, soon his hands rested on the edge of the counter beside your hip, he was pinning you down and you felt shivers as you let your hands fall down. Your breath caught in your throat as you realize how close he was and the way he was looking at you. 
You swallowed hard. 
“No, don’t worry,” he whispered nonchalantly as he leaned down to your ear after giving you a peck on the corner of your mouth. “It’s Bradley,” he whispered before he started to kneel down in front of you, one of his hands going up your skirt and touching you again. “And after this, I don’t think you’ll be able to forget it,”
And you never did. 
***
feedback is always welcomed!!!
donate: help me pls with a glass of wine after such hard core smut?
***
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notroosterbradshaw · 10 months
Text
warm blood
about: a few drinks at everyone’s favourite bar. you’re home, it’s been a few very cold months at sea. he warms you to your bones each time you see him. but it’s sadly just not meant to be. 
word count: 5.6k
warnings: angst, language, vivid thots of smut if you have an over-active imagination.
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The sound that escaped Rooster’s lips as you dragged your nails through his unruly sun-kissed curls had you cackling. A feral growl that started at his boots, so low that when released, he almost didn’t recognise himself. “Rooster Bradshaw, you need a girlfriend,” you decided.
His side-eye to you was legendary and he sighed dramatically. “I don’t need a girlfriend; I just need to get laid,” he clarified, realising just how pitiful he sounded and then adding softly when you ceased your ministrations, “Please don’t stop. That feels so fuckin’ good. It’s like the most physical contact I’ve had in...” he mumbled, his honey-coloured eyes fluttering closed and took a deep, satisfied pull of his beer. God, how long had it been? He didn’t want to admit to himself, let alone you, how long it’d been since someone had touched him like that.
You sighed and let go of him to scamper onto the bar. A quiet Tuesday night, if it were the weekend, the place would be pulsating, but you had plenty of space to lay some affection on Rooster without the bullshit that could generally come with it and it definitely seemed like he needed it…
You spread your legs modestly (as your jeans would allow) and held out your hands open in welcome. Without a question of hesitance, he stepped to you as you turned him away from you and continued to press your fingertips into his scalp with the added leverage of this new height. His strong shoulders dropped, completely melting with your touch.
“Jesus Christ, that’s good,” he murmured quietly, crossing his arms across his chest, his head lolling forward. “And you decided to be a naval aviator?” he teased. “Your hands could have been better used in much better ways.”
“Ha,” you muttered behind him. “Don’t get smart. I have generous fingers. You need me more than I need you right now.”
“You’re right, I’m sorry,” he replied.
Whispered close to him, you said, “This must be the longest dry spell you’ve ever had,” you reckoned.
He nudged his ear closer to your breath and shrugged lightly. “Fuckin’ feels like it,” he said dismally.
“How long?” you dared ask.
“It’s goin’ with me to the grave, don’t ask stupid questions,” he muttered dryly in reply as you tried to hide your grin and reached for a sip of your own beer. He turned back to you, stepping out of your grasp and putting a respectful distance between your bodies, the moment passed. You crossed your legs at the ankles properly as he made a face; he’d let pretences lie and would never admit he hadn’t been satisfied sexually since... “Maybe you’re right, I just need a girlfriend.”
Sure, he’d had a lot of sex and lots recently, a healthy amount. Probably more than most. But these days, nothing was fulfilling him. He was desperate to find a connection with someone that just wasn’t happening. Women on platters, and he didn’t know how to strike out even on his worst night. Everyone would cum and have the time of their lives. But it was never enough for Rooster to want to see them again.
“Rooster, you have no trouble finding someone to fuck… why are you so off your game?”
“Dunno,” was his simple answer.
“Well, why don’t you go drag all the ladies in with a song or something?” you suggested, hoping to perk him up, ever his cheerleader, although it was fairly dead. He shook his head and honestly, he didn’t need to sit at the piano to have all eyes on him. At any point of the night, you’d look up and find some poor soul caught staring and trapped in the web of Lieutenant Commander Bradley Bradshaw and the authority he easily demanded.
“Naw,” he didn’t feel like the spectacle tonight.
“Want me to wing woman for you?” you offered in finality. “Babe on the other side of the bar. Pretty smile, curvy...” You chewed your own lip. “Very cute.”
“You’d do that?” he asked, following your gaze and kudos to you, you knew his type, all right.
“Of course. I can’t deal with you when you’re being a whiny little bitch. If it means you get your cock wet, I’m here for you, pal,” you roughly smacked his rosy cheek, and he laughed, clutching the sting as you asked him how you looked, propping yourself off the sticky bar and he steadied you.
He gave you a once over, a fond glance in his dark eyes. “Beautiful, but are you trying to get laid, or am I?” he pondered.
“I swore off your kind as a New Year’s resolution. I want the year to myself,” you grandstanded, and he chuckled.
“You’ll be begging for sex soon enough,” he straightened and took another long slug of his beer. “I know you. I know what you need,” his voice dropped a little lower, easing his lean frame against the bar.
Your eyes met his and honestly… he probably knew exactly what you needed, what you craved and deserved and as a few beats passed, his eyes daringly never left yours. His face remained passive, daring you to play his little game.
“You know what I let you know,” you weren’t sure how to play his words off so you finished your beer. But really? You hated how right he was. He’d been the only one to get a read on you when you first landed yourself in his seminar a year or so back. “I’ve got toys, I’ve got fingers,” you reminded him, reaching for him with jazz hands as he licked back his grin, growing wider by the second.
“You fuckin’ deviant,” he breathed. It was untrue, but he loved to goad you… and you loved when he teased you too. Just a little too much.
“Hey. If I want to find someone to share my time with, I won’t hesitate to break my resolution. They’re made to be broken, aren’t they?” you shrugged flippantly, blood searing under your skin.
He nodded, not disagreeing. “Yeah, well… I’m sick of my hands,” he admitted dismally as you took the hand that rested on his quad and cupped it on your own. He laughed quietly and gripped your palm back. “I just miss the warmth, you know?”
Pressing the back of his warm, strong hand to your cheek, he laughed again as you gave him the biggest doe eyes with the dreamiest, forced smile, and he sighed. Each touch, each glance, each comment was just another link to how fucking good your friendship was and although the Navy had an odd way to keep you separated, your friendship trumped responsibility.
“Don’t start. Knock it off immediately,” he told you sternly. He could fall for those eyes in a heartbeat so it was best you put them away. You prayed desperately for him one day to give in to the heat and make that move past that imaginary line you had drawn.
Moving back to your seat like a scorned child, you didn’t give up. It could be one of your worst qualities at the best of times. Never knowing when to just shut up. “No, tell me exactly what you miss. Tell me what you need.” You settled in. You would love to know what turned Rooster Bradshaw on. He wasn’t like the other guys – he kept his conquests quiet. Lowkey. Sure, you knew when he was in the game, he made no secret of his intentions. But gee, he always seemed more complicated than an easy fuck kinda guy. “I want to know.”
“You don’t need to hear about any of that stuff,” he rolled his eyes and retrieved his hand, stuffing it back in his jeans pocket where it was safe and sound. “Trust me, you’ll be just like me soon enough,” he warned.
“Look, if you get to a point you’re absolutely desperate, blue from top to toe, I’ll drop my standards for a night and give you a night you won’t forget, okay, big guy?” you tried to bite back the laugh that bubbled under the surface and you weren’t remotely surprised he gave you the bird in response. “You’re just lazy. Go drop a line on any woman in here, and I guarantee, she will be putty in your hands.” You’d know.
It seemed like such a nut-up or shut-up order, Rooster knew he had no choice but to follow through. Standing to his height and adjusting to his posture, he mumbled, “Fine,” he stole your fresh beer as you protested and wandered around the bar, stopping before the gorgeous woman, who if truth be told, was exactly his usual type, you’d pointed out only moments earlier. Well, what was expected to be his type - that glint in her eye that told him he wouldn’t have to work too hard to get her number either. 
“Hey hey, look who’s back on dry land!” Natasha grinned, giving you a gentle side hug and ordering a drink. “When you’d sneak in, partner?”
“About half an hour ago. Your buddy cornered me first,” you explained as Natasha replaced the beer in your palm. “How’s he been?” you asked softly.
“Okay,” she shrugged. “Usual. Broody.”
“He was telling me he was lonely,” the word didn’t roll off your tongue easily even if it was something so synonymous with Rooster’s character.
“Shit, really?” Natasha raised her bottle as you nodded. “Anything to be wary of?”
“Don’t think so. You know how he is,” you told her, and she knew. Only Bradley Bradshaw could be so lucky as to always have you and Natasha Trace in his corner. “Oh, look,” you said as he nodded to you gratefully across the bar, and you winked back. “There he is - back in the saddle with absolutely little to no effort on his behalf. Well done, Rooster,” you said bored and just the teeniest bit sarcastic. “Bra-vo.”
“Please, if you had the chance, you wouldn’t share him,” Natasha righted you, smirking behind the pull of her beer.
“What can I do?” you admitted, thinking the idea had crossed your mind once, twice or every night since you’d met him about what it might be like to be the object of Rooster Bradshaw’s affections. C’mon, you weren’t immune to him. In fact, it was anything but -
“Please, he almost came in his jeans as you played with his hair before.”
“What?” you and Natasha yelped as Jake sidled up to you, grinning.
“You were playing with his hair?” Natasha asked, raising a curious eyebrow. “Oh, wow,” her tone told her everything she was thinking and none of it was approving.
“Hold that thought,” you hissed at her as she raised her palms for mercy, a small smile burgeoning on her lips. “And, fuck off, Bagman. Isn’t there some pathetic 21-year-old looking to be treated like shit for a few weeks while you string her on?” you muttered. Jake made a face.
“I’m just sayin’… wouldn’t be the worst thing if you guys tested the waters. See if there’s any sexual chemistry. Might even make Rooster a tolerable human being but it is behaviour like that that’ll get you both kicked out of the Navy.” Jake added as you threw a few loose salted peanuts at him. “Hey, I’m allergic!” he feigned, dusting himself off as he wandered off with a snicker, pleased he’d managed to rile you up with, really, very little effort on his behalf.
“I’m only learning he’s allergic to peanuts now?” you muttered to yourself.
“He is so fuckin’ toxic,” Natasha sighed. Toxic, realistic, honest. There was a lot to be said about Jake Seresin and his perception of the world. But you also kind of loved his lack of filter and how he called it as he saw it. Bit like yourself, he just had his head shoved far further up his own ass than you did… mostly.
“It’s actually his most likeable attribute,” you reckoned with a tease, tossing more peanuts across the bar after him for good measure. He made a face but was completely unaffected.
“But he doesn’t make a terrible point…” she continued as you both looked towards the other side of the bar, watching Rooster and the ease he roped his conquest in. Lick of the lips, make sure those golden biceps were bulging, aviators sliding gently down his nose as he gazed down at her… wait, there you go. She easily took the bait and nervously pushed the glasses up as he huffed a small chuckle at her moxie. He pulled his phone from his pocket a few moments later and handed it to her, clearly asking for her number. You had to give her kudos – she resisted his charms for about 1.6 seconds.
“Don’t be like that,” you begged.
“Like what?”
“Trying to encourage this. I’m dumb enough for him as it is.”
Nat gave you a tight-lipped smile and apologised. She understood, dear lord, she understood how you felt and while she could tease you unmercifully about it, she knew this wasn’t a passing crush for you. She gave her attention back to Rooster and muttered, “It’s like a car accident but I can’t look away.”
“Good for him,” you muffled, wrapping your lips around the bottle and taking a deep slug as she nudged you.
“Remember why you swore off all sex and relationships this year,” she said softly. “The purge.”
“This purge is for good,” you reminded yourself, saying it a few times like a mantra. Pity you didn’t believe it in the slightest. “You’re remarkably light tonight.”
She shrugged modestly and went into the small, very necessary details about her afternoon delight. “Don’t you miss the intimacy though?”
“Natasha, I know I made my bed and have to sleep in it, but I miss everything. I just want to come home and fall into someone’s strong arms, ground me, remind me I’m safe again until the motion of the waves stops rocking me.”
Natasha looked at you fondly. “That is actually quite poetic.”
You sipped your beer, pushed out an exhale and added drily, “Then get absolutely pounded on every surface of the house until I’m weeping.”
She cackled. “That’s my girl.”
“I got off the boat today... had the biggest plans. Wine, new rose toy I was dreaming about for the last three months... motherfucker needed to be charged.”
“You got two hands,” Phoenix reminded you just as Rooster had.
“Every night at sea, Phoenix,” you reminded her. And she knew. Dear God, did Natasha Trace know. “Every night.”
“Penny, can we get a coupla rounds of tequila here, please? Our girl is going through it,” Natasha smiled at the pretty bar owner who winked in the affirmative. You away from Rooster although Natasha motioned in his direction. “So, how was he when he saw you?”
“That slow grin… ” you said low and only for her ears. “The way he moves to his feet is a fuckin’ sin. He looked so good, I think I probably stumbled,” you cursed yourself.
“Sea legs,” Natasha patted your wrist and tried to make you feel better.
“Sure,” you shrugged flippantly. “Three months away did absolutely nothing to shut this little crush down.”
“That’s what you’re going with? Little crush,” Natasha repeated with a snort as Penny put a series of shots before you and took one quickly with you and Natasha between patrons.
“Little crush?” Rooster’s hands were on your shoulders, his strong palms massaging your tense shoulders, thumbs pressing into the nape of your neck and every ounce of tension drained from your being as he poked his face into your intimate twosome, a curious grin on his face as you and she straightened up quickly, turning to face him and he released his grasp on you. “Who has a little crush?” he asked, remarkably perkier than he was ten minutes earlier.
“You’re still here?” you asked him. “Thought you’d be on your way to - ”
“Amelie’s,” he supplied.
“That’s quite sweet actually,” you noted as he nodded, amused, almost like you couldn’t imagine a more beautiful name being found in a place like The Hard Deck. “Amelie’s house…”
“We said we’d meet up a bit later,” he shrugged, catching Penny’s attention for another round. “Been a while since we were all together. We missed ya, kid,” he told you as he snuck a shot. Natasha rolled her eyes.
“Well, here I am,” you forced a grin as he mirrored yours and it spread as wide on his handsome features.
“Yep. You sure are. Back where you belong,” he said as the air around you changed, and Natasha would be lying to say she’d never felt more like a third wheel in her life. She watched you watch the other, it was almost like you were daring the other to look away first. She could feel whatever it was between the two of you and knew that it was much deeper than either of you would admit. Well, she knew exactly how you felt. With Bob back in Lemoore with his family and Natasha needing another partner, you had been brought in and the PR party the Navy had with you as an all-female team? Sheesh.
She also knew how much you would risk everything to be with him. She’d never outwardly encouraged it, but she could see how hard you both fought to keep your desire for the other in check. He did better at trying to conceal it, but it was written all over your face. You looked at him like he hung the moon.
“Wanna get really drunk tonight?” you asked him, wrapping an arm around Natasha’s shoulder.
“Hey, don’t rope me into your hangovers,” Natasha tried as you covered her mouth with your free hand.
“Hush, love,” you tutted her. “You’re either with us or against us.”
She pursed her lips as you and Rooster grinned widely at her. “…you two will be the death of me.”
Cheering together that you’d drawn her with such little effort on your behalf, Rooster laughed. “Yeah, kinda think it’s a good night to get messy.”
“Natasha Trace, line ‘em up,” you instructed as she begrudgingly nodded, and Rooster rubbed his hands with glee.
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“I am not good,” you told Rooster a few hours later. Rooster could readily agree that neither was he. Natasha and the rest of the team had bailed a while ago, leaving you together at the bar. “I really have to go.”
“Yeah, I know,” he replied. “Getting drunk wasn’t going to help you get over any exhaustion.”
“I haven’t slept in…” you squinted at your watch. “Wow, 36 hours. My bed is going to be so good tonight,” Bed, bed, bed. “Oh shit, Amelie!” you exclaimed, sipping your ice water. “Wasn’t she waiting for you?”
He shrugged. “Five minutes of pleasure there, three hours here with you and our friends. I know where I’d rather be.”
“Five minutes, dude,” you giggled quietly. You didn’t believe it for a second.
“I didn’t exactly see forever with her, Jesus,” he muttered, licking back a smirk of his own.
“I would never believe that anyway.”
“Thank you,” he finally let a giggle bubble out. “And you shouldn’t.”
“Did you at least text her? You were interested three hours ago…”
“I think she put her number into my phone wrong,” he lied so easily it was almost disappointing.
“Rooooster,” you dragged out.
He shrugged. “So what? Changed my mind,” he said simply.
“Hey, you two,” Penny sniped, pulling your attention from each other. “You either get a cloth and start cleaning up or you think about getting outta here, so you don’t have numbers in your system in the morning,” she warned. The bar had long since rang the last call and you were the last patrons standing – but also, on the plus side for Penny, probably the evening’s highest paying.
“Sorry, Penny. Lemme pay,” Rooster said, getting his credit card from his wallet and tossing it on the gummed-up bench. She grinned and slid the card back across the bar as Rooster protested.
“Hangman took a chunk of the bill off earlier. I’ll let you two get away with a few freebies if you lock the door on the way out?”
“Oops,” you said, picking yourself up and stretching. “We will,” you said as you collected your belongings. “Sorry again.”
She gave a gentle nod as you headed for the door. “Someone will be,” she whispered to herself solemnly.
“I’d better walk you home, I guess,” Rooster said, waving goodnight and following you a careful distance away.
“You don’t have to do that,” you said as he opened the door for you and let you out into the cooler night air. The liquor in your system swept a series of goose pimples break out as the breeze off the ocean breeze hit your skin. You shivered instinctively.
“You good?” he asked.
“Yes, Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw, I’m perfectly fine,” you answered, rolling your eyes and inhaling the sea air. “You think I’d get sick of it, right?” you asked with a grin.
He didn’t even need you to explain yourself. “Never,” because he understood the feeling implicitly.
“Never,” you repeated as he nodded towards the beach, following the path to your place.
You walked in a comfortable silence for a while and before you realised it, your villa was before you. “Here we are. I actually can’t wait to get to sleep in my own bed.”
He grinned. “One that doesn’t rock.”
“Not tonight it won’t,” you said glumly, taking his comment as a double entendre as he giggled quietly even though he was probably being purely innocent in his commentary, following you to the door. You struggled with the key for a few moments before he carefully nudged you aside and remedied the situation at hand.
The door opened and he sighed. Relieved, disappointed, he didn’t know. “I’ll see you tomorrow, huh?”
“I am off until next week,” you told him. God knows you needed it.
“So, I’ll see you tomorrow,” he reiterated with a gentle smile, but if he meant the bar, you couldn’t fathom backing up from the eventual hangover tomorrow was sure to bring. It filled you with dread.
“Yessir,” you mumbled as you stared at the other for a moment. So much to say that would always remain silent. For any other two people in the universe, right now you would be taking those last steps closer, lips tenderly brushing the others and seeing if the kiss was right. He would lay his strong, calloused palms on your hips, squeezing you closer to rest your body against his and you would willingly encourage the kiss -
Yet here you were, taking that next step in the other direction to go to bed alone, without even the slightest touch to say goodnight; no whisper of a whiskey-laced caress to dare cross your lips. And all you really wanted was to take his hand and guide him to your room that he’d never seen the inside of, strip him down, and explore the body he worked so hard on perfecting. Let him discover your body with his hands, with his lips, his tongue. Find out what made you call his name out in the dark.  
See what made the other make sounds that you only dreamed about, that you only thought he made in the throes of fucking, limited only to when the groans of pleasure he’d make when he found out how wet you really were for him and how well, til then, you’d hidden it from him.
How wild you willed him to be, reckless when he stopped holding himself back, the guttural, primal movements of his strong body as he slammed into you, touching every piece of naked skin within his grasp. How his tongue would devour yours and his kisses not missing a beat, working in perfect tandem with the rhythm of his hips –
“Where you at, sunshine?” he asked with a peaked dark brow, waving a palm in front of your face. Jesus Christ, how long had you been fantasising while he was standing right before you?! “Looks like it’s time for bed, kiddo.”
You huffed an embarrassed laugh. “Definitely,” you agreed, blame it on months at sea, blame it on the alcohol. Get you inside alone immediately if not sooner. Put this sexual frustration to bed once and for all. “Goodnight, Rooster. Thanks for walking me back.”
“Lieutenant,” he gave a gentle wave as you forced a smile and closed the door before you did something incredibly stupid… like drag your superior officer in and do things that would certainly dishonourably discharge you (or both of you), suspend your pay or worst, confinement for two years. You didn’t know which one scared you the most.
But you were pretty sure the feelings you had for Rooster were the worst of a bad bunch.
And you were whipping the door open again as you saw him heading back towards the street. “Rooster,” you said as he paused. “Bradley...” you repeated, a name you rarely called him, but Lieutenant Commander was certainly not how you wanted to get his attention at 2am in the middle of the street.
He looked at you and back to your house, confused. “You okay? What’s going on?” The concern in his voice was evident.
“No, no. I’m honestly fine,” you reassured him. “I just need you to know how stupid I am,” spit it out, your brain (and heart) screamed. He laughed quietly.
“What are you talking about?”
You stayed silent and you could tell he was growing uncomfortable. He was adorable and so terribly clueless. “Rooster, I was being honest before.”
He frowned and shrugged, nothing standing out to him that he was to recall. “I mean, I’d hope so. But what, exactly?”
You inhaled sharply. “Earlier tonight, I wasn’t kidding... I will be there for you anytime you need me. In any way...” you took in his face as it began to dawn on him what you were insinuating. “You need me. A friend, wingman, a confident... whatever.”
He swallowed roughly. “Oh.”
You let go of him. “It’s all so easy when we’re away from each other, but then I see you and all I can think about is how good we are together and how good we could be...”
“Jesus...” he muttered quietly, rubbing his tired face but his gaze remained hard on you, unbelieving. “How drunk are you?” he wanted to blame the alcohol now too.
“Sober enough to know this had to come out eventually. I can’t just be one of the boys anymore, not with the way you make me feel. I think about you all the time,” you took a breath and repeated, “All the time.”
He took your wrists and dragged you back to your front stoop. He trapped you against the door and caged you under his strong arms, hoping you’d go in and pretend what you were announcing wasn’t tangible. He drew in a shaky breath, but he didn’t dare touch you. You could feel the heat radiating off his golden skin and the way his tongue ran over his full lips. “Why are you telling me this now?”
“Because I can’t keep it in anymore. Because you need to know that if you want me, I’ll be waiting.”
“How long has this been going on?” he asked quietly. “How long have you felt like this?”
“Since my first seminar. Was this stupid moustache,” you confided as he flushed and laughed incredulously to himself, this couldn’t be real. “And I know I’ve probably ruined our friendship, completely tested the boundaries of professionalism and you probably hate me – ”
“Hate you?” he repeated, grimacing. “In no world could I ever hate you, kid.”
“Really?” you asked, a hopeful flutter in your heart. “I know this isn’t what you were expecting, and believe me… I didn’t want to feel this way, I just… I just can’t seem to stop,” the sheer frustration evident in your voice and he could viscerally feel your discontentment. “It’s supposed to go away when we’re on the job. I went away for fuckin’ months, and I see you tonight,” you blurted out before you could stop yourself. “And in my fuckin’ brain was convinced I was over it.”
“Your heart?” he asked quietly.
“Didn’t agree,” you confided, embarrassed. Quiet. Ashamed. Tortured.
He sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping. Nothing you were saying made sense, not when he knew he felt exactly the same and every day did everything in his power to try and pretend his feelings for you didn’t exist. “Kid – ”
“I know I’ve ruined our friendship. I know I’m putting everything we have at stake, whether it’s personal or professional, and I’m sorry, but I’m about to burst,” you wanted to yell.
“Hey, hey,” he soothed, “Calm down. I know... I know,” he said softly. He desperately wanted to give just one reassuring nudge but knew every touch could be construed as something else, and Bradley Bradshaw had never felt so torn in two before.
“You know?” you asked, a spark of hope lurching in your heart.
“There is something here, you know there is,” his voice was so low. “But what way is there around it? It’s a lose-lose situation. I’m your superior.”
“Trust me, I’m well aware of that,” your sweet, pained voice was so sombre, it was haunting him. For so long, he’d denied how he’d felt; he had to. You were his direct report, he was your teacher, and you were his dutiful student. And it wasn’t intentional that he felt how he did because he did everything in his power to push any of the nonsensical feelings away, he begged to be sent OS, anything to resist the temptation… but the temptation of what you made him feel - alive - was the hardest to shake and he missed the feeling whenever you were away.
“I don’t know what else I can say - ” he tried.
“I think of you when I touch myself, Rooster,” you grasped his shirt and you saw him swallow roughly. You went for the big guns… you were spiralling and desperate. But it certainly was no word of a lie.
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” he took that step closer but dared not touch you in return, his palms almost pressing their indent into your front door. He feared if took another step and felt you were against him, he would give in and risk everything. “…tell me more,” he begged. “Please. What do you see?”
“Really?” you asked softly. 
“I need... I need to know,” his voice was so low, you felt it to your bones.
Your hands rose to his rest on his pecs, his muscles reacting under your touch, his head lolling closer, lips so close but like magnets, they kept a safe distance repelled. “It always comes back to me goin’ down on you. The sounds I imagine you make, hard and hot in my mouth. How you taste,” you felt the heat radiate through your body, but now you’d started you weren’t sure that you could stop… and you weren’t sure Rooster wanted you to either.
“Do you want to find out?” he said, voice gravelly, standing over you, millimetre by excruciating millimetre, he crept closer. He had never been so uncomfortable, but never so close to needing the relief you were placing right in his palms.
“Do you?” you challenged, your knuckles grazing his abs hard and tense under his shirt, coming to rest on his hips, your fingertips tracing the seams on his belt. His eyes drifted closed and tried to find his resolve. You must have been challenging him, there was no other recourse for this. Your banter together was notorious... but this was testing the limits of your friendship.
That imaginary line was non-existent now. There was no turning back.
“You’re bullshitin’ me, I know you are,” he said, and it hurt to admit, his breathing heavy and uncontrolled. Desire radiated through him and he now knew, he wouldn’t be able to go back to a place where this wasn’t happening.
“Rooster,” you took that step he couldn’t, bodies flush against the other. “That woman, Amelie, she won’t please you the way I will. Let me show you how good we can be together,” you pleaded softly.
“You're my friend...” his brain just couldn’t function; it couldn’t comprehend these words you were telling him. Words he’d wanted to hear you say since you shared that first small grin, seated proudly beside Phoenix. You’d share so many near misses together that actually getting to this made him wonder if he was dreaming. “I’m your commanding officer.” It all came down to this.
But you couldn’t hear his defences and asked, “Have you never thought of me the same way I think of you?”
His dark eyes burned deeply into yours and without a hint of a lie, he replied, “You know I have,” it was barely audible, when he added, “You know. You know I want you, kid… Everyone does.” And that was the problem for all involved. 
“Then don’t worry about the next notch in the bedpost… and let me show you what you’re missing.”
He breathed, the whiskey on his tongue swirling and you were desperate to taste it.
“Say it. Say what you’re thinking.”
He raised his eyes to yours, his strong hand reaching for the door handle behind you. “One night. No rules. Tomorrow, we will never speak of this again,” he turned the knob and the door opened. He gently grasped your wrist as he led you inside and at that moment, you knew every facet of your life was irrevocably changed.
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A/N: the tag list no longer exists. To keep up to date, give @notroosterbradshaw-library a follow x
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jupitercomet · 8 months
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The Trial Run: Chapter Eight
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summary - Bradley Bradshaw has one goal as he finishes his junior year of college - get Makayla Cunningham to be his girlfriend. Because Makayla Cunningham is exactly the kind of girl a guy like Bradley Bradshaw deserves. There's just one problem, Makayla is adamant that Bradley is a bad boyfriend. If he wants to win her over, Bradley has to prove he can keep a girlfriend of Makayla's choosing for the entire summer. It's just his luck that girl is his little sister's best friend.
warnings - college au, frat boy Bradley (Bradley’s frat is completely fictional and in no way meant to reference any existing frats), language, descriptions of a panic attack, brief mention of throwing up, talks of parental death, Bradley is 22 and reader is 19, no use of y/n, Bradley is 6'6" because I said so
this blog is 18+, minors please do not interact
word counts - 3.3k
the trial run masterlist
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Makayla: what are you doing now?
Bradley feels his phone buzz against the shiny, faux wood table at the casual sports bar he and the guys had chosen to watch the Phillies game. Normally Bradley would have been just fine watching the game at home, his mom had a pretty big television and she never tried to trick herself into thinking that her son wasn’t drinking while he was away at college so she didn’t care too much when the boys pulled out a beer or two.
But Admiral Simpson absolutely hated the mess, and didn’t care much for sports either, and with his return looming over Bradley’s head, he just didn’t want to deal with it. So he, Jake, and Javy decided to find a sports bar that was close by and watch the game there. His mom tried to assure him that it wouldn’t matter, but Bradley Bradshaw isn’t 15 years old anymore and he knows enough to know that just because his mom wants something to be true doesn't mean that it is. 
But the buzz of his phone pulls him from these thoughts and Bradley looks down to see Makayla’s name lighting up his screen. He types out a quick reply to her message, moving his thumb to press the send button before he hesitates. You always like when he sends pictures. Opening the camera quickly, Bradley shoots a somewhat awkward smile, angling to get some of the bar in the background before sending it off with a text.
Watching the Phillies game
Bradley watches the three gray dots appear as Makayla takes several seconds to respond. He’s almost anxious for her response, which he doesn’t fully understand because he knows he shouldn’t be. Something about talking to her always put him a bit on edge.
Makayla is a very particular girl. She has strong opinions on things and tends to make sure everybody knows them. Bradley isn’t blind to how sometimes unnecessarily cruel she can be—this whole date requirement being a prime example of it—but Bradley thinks that girls like her are allowed to be.
He lets out a breath when she still hasn’t responded, dropping his phone screen side down and letting the conversation die as Jake and Javy come back with their drinks.
“Has the score changed?” Jake glances at one of the many televisions pointed in their direction while Bradley shakes his head. All three boys have their eyes trained on the TV and Bradley lets out a small mumble of thanks when Javy passes him his beer. The only thing that draws them away from the Phillies game is Bradley’s phone buzzing on the table again. Jake grins when he sees Bradley scramble for it. “That the girlfriend?”
Makayla: right
Bradley clears his throat, looking up from his phone. “Yeah.”
“I gotta say, dude,” Jake continued to rib him playfully. “Your sister’s best friend? I did not see that coming.”
“Honestly, I’m just happy to see him move on from Makayla,” Javy joins in the teasing, but Bradley can see how sincere his words are.
His brows furrow. “What do you mean?”
Taking in Bradley’s expression, Jake scoffs in disbelief. “Come on, man. Sometimes I’m not convinced you even like her.” 
“What?” Bradley’s fingers clench defensively against his beer.
His eyes flit between Jake and Javy and, to his surprise, both boys seem to be in agreement, having noticed something Bradley wasn’t even aware of. What do they mean he doesn’t like Makayla? Of course he likes Makayla. It’s the whole reason he’s doing any of this.
“I can’t be the only one who realizes that she’s exactly the kind of girl the Admiral would approve of.”
Jake’s words dump over Bradley like ice water, so chilling that, for a moment, he genuinely thinks someone’s poured beer on him. She’s exactly the kind of girl the Admiral would approve of. In some capacity, Bradley guesses that’s true. Makayla comes from a wealthy, established family, she was raised with the gender values Admiral Simpson wishes his mom had. Now that he thinks about it, Makayla’s probably the only person he knows who would not only survive, but enjoy a dinner with his stepdad.
Before Bradley can say anything to argue that of course he likes Makayla, a resounding crack rings out through the sports bar and the patrons jump up in excitement at the home run playing on the large TVs. Jake and Javy join them quickly, not nearly as affected as Bradley as he sits on his vinyl seat dumbly. He takes a long sip of his beer before shaking the feeling off and trying to forget everything long enough to enjoy the game.
Again, his phone buzzes on the table.
Makayla: also you should shave that mustache before you get back
Bradley purses his lips, the comment striking a cord in a way that has him locking his phone instead of responding to Makayla. Bradley doesn’t consider himself to be insecure—not in the slightest—but he’s finding it harder and harder to focus on the game, something nagging in the back of his head that he’s doing something wrong.
He uses the feeling of his cool beer bottle against his palm to ground himself, but he still finds himself shifting in his seat every few seconds, an uncomfortable itch overtaking him. From his peripheral, he catches his phone resting on the table. He can suddenly feel his keys inside his back pocket.
“I have to go.”
Javy and Jake turn away from the game in confusion—and truthfully Bradley also can’t believe those words just left his mouth. “What?”
“I just—” Bradley clears his throat, getting up almost frantically as he grabs his phone from the table. “I remembered I have to do something. Just— Tell me how it ends.”
With that, he’s leaving the table before Jake and Javy can even respond. He lets out a shaky breath, wiping his sweaty hands on his pants. He’s barely had a sip of alcohol and feels confident to drive, but he stays sitting in his Bronco for several minutes anyway. Keeping his gaze trained on the steering wheel, Bradley tries to feel like he’s not swallowing rocks. 
He looks down to find his hands shaking and he bites down on his lip, squeezing his eyes closed. “Shit.”
He knows what’s coming. He can feel it, like that feeling when you’re about to vomit. Bradley shoves his palms into his eye sockets, leaning back in his seat until his head is touching the headrest. Tears prick at his waterline, even though his eyes are closed tight, and each one feels almost painful as his throat gets smaller and smaller.
Bradley all but throws himself forward, resting his forearms on his knees as he holds his head in his hands. He keeps reminding himself that this will pass—it always does. But the waiting is the worst part and Bradley just can’t believe he’s trapped himself in the parking lot of a sports bar, hiding under the view of the windows as he waits to calm down.
His bottom lip is trapped between his teeth and he pulls at his hair as his breaths get sharper and quicker. The pain stings against his scalp, but it does little to distract him. Truthfully, Bradley should have known this was coming. It’s been looming over him since he stepped foot in San Diego and, if anything, he’s just grateful it happened when he was alone.
His fingers are still shaking, worse now, and his breathing pattern is entirely erratic. He tries to slow it down, but deep breaths feel like cement in his chest, and he just can’t. Bradley feels like a kid again, hiding in a stall in the boys bathroom until he was strong enough to come out. It’s the same quivering breath against his palms, the same stubborn tears rolling down his cheeks, he’s still that same kid. And he hates it.
Bradley hates that he’s not over this. Because he should be. A few words from his friends and a text shouldn’t be able to do this to him. But it does. And it is. And now he’s sitting in his car trying not to hyperventilate in the parking lot of a sports bar while his friends sit inside, none the wiser.
Bradley really hates coming home.
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“Are you okay?”
Bradley needs you to stop asking him that every time you see him. Because you shouldn’t be able to tell that he’s not okay. The two of you only somewhat know each other and if you can tell that something’s going on, then he’s not hiding it as well as he thought.
“Fine,” he says simple, actively trying to ignore the worry in your eyes as you look at him.
He thought he waited long enough before coming inside to make it look like he hadn’t just been crying, but under your attentive gaze he keeps purposefully avoiding your eye so you don’t notice.
“Did something happen?” You try again gently. “I thought you were supposed to be watching the game with Javy and Jake.”
“I missed you.” The words come out before Bradley can process them, his own voice almost unrecognizable to him as he spits the words out instinctively.
Your lips part slowly and then he watches them curl up in a small smile. “It hasn’t even been an hour, Bradley.” You tease him, but it’s soft, as you take a step closer to him.
Bradley relaxes just slightly, allowing you into his space as some of his anxiety washes off of him. He nods. “Exactly. Too long.”
You smile again, letting your arms wrap around his shoulders while Bradley’s finds purchase on your hips. And then, just because he felt like it, he dips down to catch your lips, kissing you slowly. He tries to focus on the feeling of you, the softness of your lips, the way your nails scratch at the base of his curls every so often. Sighing against your lips, Bradley pulls you closer, his shoulders finally sagging.
“Okay, ew.” Giselle’s voice cuts the room and you pull away from Bradley quickly. Bradley honestly couldn’t give less of a shit about what his sister saw the two of you doing together, but you’re clearly embarrassed, looking down bashfully to hide your fluster.
Bradley shoots his sister a deadpanned glare. “Can we help you?”
“Oh, I was just looking for my best friend,” Giselle plops a grape in her mouth from where they’re sitting on the kitchen counter. “Making sure she hadn’t died or anything.”
Bradley grunts, the hand he still has on you squeezing your hip. “Well, she hasn’t.”
“Yeah, but she’s kissing you. That’s a fate worse than death.”
“Giselle,” you cut in before Bradley can respond. You and Giselle share a look, seemingly communicating to each other without words. Whatever your trying to tell her gets across because his sister sighs, holding her hands up in surrender.
“Fine,” Giselle nods and Bradley watches as she grabs another grape. Then she shoots you another look—equally unreadable to him—and you nod. “I’ll leave you to your sucking face then.”
Bradley waits for her to leave the kitchen before he looks down at you. “Sucking face?”
You smile slightly. “It’s a long story.” Turning back into his hold, you place your hands on his chest, smoothing down the fabric of his t-shirt. For a second, Bradley thinks you’re going to kiss him again, but instead you ask, “Is the Phillies game still on?”
“Should be,” Bradley glances at the stove clock. It’s only been an hour and a half, there was still a significant chunk of the game left.
Though, at this point, Bradley had no intention of watching it, he doesn’t say anything as you lead him around the house, grabbing your laptop from Giselle’s room and then heading into his. He’s still quiet as you manage to find—what may be an illegal—site to watch the game on, setting it up on the foot of his bed.
“Come on,” you pat the spot next to you and briefly Bradley thinks that you don’t look at all out of place in his bedroom.
He moves wordlessly to sit beside you, your thighs brushing only just as you both get comfortable on his bed. He doesn’t really know what you’re doing or why you’re doing it, and you seem to show no signs of wanting to tell him, so all he can do is sit somewhat awkwardly next to you as he watches the small screen of your computer. 
You lean a bit closer to him. “You’re gonna have to explain to me what’s going on though.” There’s a small smile on your face and Bradley’s grateful that you finally seem to be picking up on the fact that he just wants to pretend that everything's okay.
“Sure, sunshine.”
Bradley finds himself getting more invested in the game as the minutes tick by, his episode in the parking lot slowly forgotten as he explains terms and players to you in quiet mumbles. By his third commercial break, Bradley’s starting to feel more like himself, his grip on his emotions tightening and his mood rising.
He glances at you next to him. You hardly notice, now drawn into the Phillies game with a concentration Bradley can’t help but find adorable. He looks at the way your biceps are pressed against each other and lifts his arm just slightly. It’s when he tries to raise his arm again that you turn to look at him.
“No way.” A large grin overtakes your face as you look between him and his arm.
Bradley furrows his brows. “What?”
“Oh my god,” you laugh. “You’re about to do the thing. You’re so about to do the thing.”
Bradley can only look confused. “What thing?” When you only laugh harder, he makes a face. “What thing, sunshine?”
“The thing,” you hardly elaborate. “You were about to do the yawn thing where you put your arm around me.”
“What?” Bradley pulls back slightly in defense. “No, I—” When you just shoot him a look, Bradley purses his lips. You laugh again.
“I cannot believe the Bradley Bradshaw pulls moves that cliche.”
“Shut up,” Bradley shoulders you good-naturedly. “Don’t girls like that shit?”
You snort. “Just admit you’re losing your touch, Bradshaw.”
“I’m losing my—” Bradley laughs incredulously. “Alright, fine,” he gets up, holding out his hand to help you off his bed.
Confusion flashes across your features as he helps you up, leading you out of his room, the Phillies game now forgotten. “What are you doing?”
“Showing you that Bradley Bradshaw can be very,” Bradley turns around to shoot you a teasing smile. “Very smooth.”
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Bradley can firmly live in the truth that he is smooth, the expression on your face proof enough when he pulls up to an empty part of the beach. In the late afternoon, the ocean sparkles, crashing and ebbing against the shore and the breeze is just cool enough to make the beating sun bearable.
You hop out of the car quickly and Bradley takes his time grabbing both your bags as you lay out towels on the abandoned sand. For whatever reason—even after all these years, Bradley still doesn’t know—every time he’s visited this part of the beach, there hasn’t been another soul on it. In the back of his mind, there’s a thought that this might be because it’s private property, but Bradley hasn’t been caught yet, so he figures it’s fine.
He sets your bags down next to you, sitting on the towel next to yours as he looks out on the ocean. Taking a deep breath, Bradley lets the ocean air fill his lungs, finally letting the events of the day wash off him. Makayla’s text comes back to him though, nagging at his brain, and he lets out a small sigh.
He knew it was stupid to be that thrown about a comment about his mustache. Even thinking the words felt stupid. But to him, it didn’t feel stupid. There was very little that Bradley has left of his dad. He doesn’t have the house, or the garage, or that vintage popcorn machine. He doesn’t even have all the memories, a lot of them he was too young to remember.
But when Bradley first started growing facial hair, it felt like he had something else of his dad’s. It was an embarrassing mustache at first sure, Giselle and his friends teased him to no end, but it grew and he’ll never forget the day his mom looked at him and sucked in a breath. Because Bradley looked just like his dad.
And yes, obviously Bradley took pride in his mustache when most of his frat brothers could only grow patchy beards at best. But he liked looking in the mirror and seeing his dad—or the reminder of his dad. He liked knowing that no matter what, no matter the choices his mom made, or people like Admiral Simpson, he will always be Nick Bradshaw’s son. 
Bradley didn’t expect Makayla to understand that. How could she when he’s never said anything? But there’s something that stings about it, like she doesn’t get it. Bradley sucks in a sudden breath, a thought hitting him. Maybe no one gets it.
You shift next to him and Bradley’s so in his own head that, in a moment of insecurity, he turns to you. “Do you think I should shave my mustache?”
You look at him quietly for several seconds, the question hanging in the air as you cock your head slightly like you’re deep in thought. Bradley tries not to seem nervous as you examine him.
“Well, you should do whatever makes you happy, but I like your mustache.” You say finally, climbing into his lap and smoothing your thumbs along the hairs. “Feel like you wouldn’t really be you without it.”
“You think?” Bradley’s hands fall to your hips as you straddle his thighs.
“Yeah, it’s very Bradley Bradshaw.” You trace your thumbs along his mustache again and Bradley’s eyes flutter closed at the feeling. “And I happen to like Bradley Bradshaw.” You press a quick peck to his lips. “Very much.”
Bradley grins, relief flooding his veins, and he moves one of his hands to grab your chin so that he can kiss you again. “Well, I like you too, sunshine. Very much.” He rolls you down on one of your towels, being mindful of the sand, before deepening the kiss. 
This is not the first time Bradley Bradshaw has made out on a beach, but even Bradley can admit that this time is different. It’s not that rushed, sort of “teenagers hooking up before they get caught” kiss that causes Bradley to fumble with bra clasps and get sand everywhere. His hands aren’t rushing over your body, grabbing and squeezing like he doesn’t have enough time. With you, Bradley can’t help but go slow. Slow enough that he can feel the warmth radiating off your body. Slow enough that he can hear every sound he pulls from your lips. Slow enough that the thought of going any faster doesn’t even cross his mind.
Bradley pulls away from you suddenly, watching as your dazed eyes blink away to confusion. Still hovering over you, he looks down. “What was that? Oh—” Bradley meets your eye again with a cheeky grin. “My mustache says it likes you too.”
You blink at him as you process his words and then throw your head back with a cackle. “Oh my god. That was worse than the yawn thing!”
“Oh, you want worse than the yawn thing?” Bradley traps you under him, a smirk forming on his lips. “I can make it dance for you, is that what you want?”
“Do not— Bradley!”
Somewhere in his bag, under a spare t-shirt and extra towel, Bradley’s phone lights up with a text notification that remains unnoticed as he goes back to kissing you through peals of laughter.
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callsigncherub · 9 months
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To love and be loved.
Summary: Rooster learns what it's like to love and be loved.
Warnings: Fluff, smut, ANGST, pregnancy, loss of pregnancy, major character death, drunk driving.
Word count: 4.6k
This is a very angsty piece so 18+ minors DNI.
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If there was ever one thing Bradley Bradshaw was completely and utterly sure of, it was that he was going to spend the rest of his life by himself. And he was okay with that. He grew up knowing the damage it causes losing the one person you love the most, he saw it first-hand. He saw what his mother had to go through and how difficult it was to be in so much pain but carry on in life. Working, paying the bills, and having the responsibility of a child was challenging enough, but doing all of that whilst grieving was something he could never begin to comprehend. And something he would never want to put someone through.
Nevertheless, he had a great childhood. Living in a small, white beach house along the coast with his mother, he has fond memories of growing up. Baking cakes on Sundays and licking the batter off the spoon, singing corny 80s songs in the car with his mother on the way to school and building model planes with Mav. He had a lot of friends growing up, he was surrounded by love. But Bradley always felt like a part of him was missing. His father.
His mother always told him stories about his father. With Bradley sat across her lap outside on the porch swing, flicking through several photo albums and fiddling with a picture of the three of them when Bradley was born, she would tell him about how they met and fell in love, how much he loved flying with Mav, the family holidays they went on when Bradley was a young child, how Goose nearly passed out when Bradley was born, and how much Goose absolutely adored his son.
At first, Bradley loved hearing these stories, he used to beg his mother to tell him more, but as he entered his early teens, all he felt was anger.
It all started when he woke up one morning to make grab his mother a tea and noticed his father’s favourite mug still at the back of the cupboard, slightly dusty and derelict. He wondered what it was still doing there if no one had been or was going to use it. The next week he was clearing out the attic looking for things to sell so he could save up for the latest CD player when he came across a box with ‘Nick and Carole’ scribbled along its side, filled with old videos, wedding pictures, his mother’s wedding dress and an album entirely dedicated to his father’s journey of being a naval aviator. But underneath all of the memories held in this box were a pair of boots and a khaki uniform.
A few days after finding the box in the attic, he was on his way out to school when his mother noticed his sweater was getting a bit too tight on him and handed him one of his fathers and when he came home, he found a pile of clothes on his bed that he could only assume also belonged to his father. Curiously, Bradley found himself eyeing the pile of shorts and sweaters when a bright yellow caught his eye and he rummaged through the pile, only to pull out the ugliest looking Hawaiian print shirt he’s ever seen.
“Your father loved that shirt. God, you look so much like him Bradley.’ His mother said, standing at the doorway with tear filled eyes.
Bradley lay awake in bed that night hit with an irrepressible amount of emotion, surprised that despite his father passing whilst he was so young, he could remember so much. He thought about the mug, and how his father would drink his coffee from it every day at breakfast, Bradley sat on his knee eating bacon and eggs and his mother ranting about how she doesn’t understand how he could drink black coffee and enjoy it. He remembered waiting on the front porch every day for his father to return home from work and hearing the same uniform he found a week ago, he remembered the sound that those exact boots would make walking up the steps to their home and the joy he felt to see his father. And as Bradley sat up in bed, mind running 100 miles per hour he caught the vibrant shirt hanging on the back of his desk chair and caught the memory of their last family holiday together. The holiday where he built sandcastles with his father, went swimming in the ocean with his mother, it was their final moment of happiness before disaster struck.
For a moment, Bradley smiled with fondness at the thought of his father. But the grief that came after his momentary happiness hit him at full force, like a punch to the gut. He was hit with the realisation that he’d never see his father drink from that mug again, he’d never hear the clunk of those boots walking up the front porch after a long day at work, he’d never see his father wearing his collection of ridiculous Hawaiian shirts again. And at that, he struggled to understand why he was only now beginning to feel this way.
The funny thing with grief is, it never truly goes away. It comes and goes. Sometimes, some days, it’s easier to handle but other days it’s a tough pill to swallow and Bradley was angry at how much time he already lost with his father and how for the rest of his life, there’s always going to be a part of him that’s empty.
So, Bradley spent his teens in a much more reckless way than his mother thought was natural. The late nights, the disobedience, the parties, the girls, coming home high early hours of the morning because he couldn’t face the way he felt.
In all honesty it broke his mother’s heart, and he could see that. It hurt him to hurt her, but there was something that held him back from ever being able to change and truth be told, he was terrified. Maybe it was the fact that it was easier to run away from how he felt rather than face it head on, or maybe it was self-preservation – that if he pushed his mother away then he would hurt less. He felt the burden of being his mother’s only child. Everything she went through whilst having a son to look after as well. And if anything were to happen to his mother, he thought maybe it would be easier to cope. But deep-down Bradley thought that if he followed in his father’s footsteps of joining the Navy, maybe he’d feel that little bit closer to him. Maybe he wouldn’t be so self-destructive. Just maybe, he would make his parents proud.
There are a lot of things Bradley regrets in his life and the way he acted over his teens was one of them. He wanted forgiveness for the amount of time he missed out on because of his incessant need to prove a point he couldn’t even understand until he did. He would be better off alone, forever.
At 18 Bradley lost his mother to a gruelling bout of breast cancer. It was the most difficult thing Bradley had ever gone through in his life. He couldn’t bring himself to admit that she was gone, that he would never see her face again, sing along in the car with her, feel her warm embrace. And to this day, he still remembers the last thing she ever said to him, lying in the hospice where she took her last breath, a long night of waiting ahead of him.
“Bradley, your father loved you so much. I love you so much. Make us proud, my beautiful boy.”
Those were the last words he heard his mother speak, but he could see in her eyes that she forgave him, that every word she’d just said was meant with the truest of intentions and enough love to conquer the world.
After that day, Bradley made it his life’s purpose to serve his country by joining the US navy. His life consisted of his F-18, ready meals, drinks at the Hard Deck and returning home to the barracks – alone. He didn’t fall in love, he never allowed himself to. Sure, he’s had hook-ups in the past, he’d had girls tell him they loved him, but not once had he ever said it back with meaning or said it back at all. He was okay with being alone, because he had no obligations, he wasn’t important to anyone and he was happy with it being that way because he prefers being by himself rather than forcing a love and marriage and kids – pretending to be a person that he isn’t, when he knows it’ll only be temporary.
What is there to lose?
That’s a simple enough question that Bradley thought he knew the answer to. Nothing, he had absolutely nothing to lose. No wife, no children, not even a pet.
But then he met the most beautiful soul and something in him couldn’t quite stay away.
The Hard Deck was always busy on a Friday night, but this one night in particular was jam packed. Celebratory drinks were held for the success of the Uranium Mission and Bradley, though ecstatic that the mission was over, and that he was alive, couldn’t shake the feeling of misery that he felt deep down for realising just how precious life is and how he’s only getting older – and lonelier. He never thought his perspective on how he would spend the rest of his life would change and so he sat at the bar, beer in hand wallowing in self-pity. Downing the rest of his beer, Bradley stood up and slammed some cash on the bar ready to call it a night, about to head off towards the door before colliding against the bar with a thud.
Bradley groaned at the impact, not in the mood to deal with anything else tonight that could worsen the foul mood he was already in.
“Oh my god! I am so sorry. Are you okay?” You screeched, looking up at him with alerted eyes, cheeks flushed a rosy tint – partly out of embarrassment, and partly from the alcohol you’d consumed, meeting up with your friends from work after a busy week.
As soon as he heard your voice, he didn’t need to look down at you to know that you’d be the most beautiful woman he’s ever met in his life. But still, he couldn’t help himself and as his eyes met yours, he immediately knew wanted you. He wanted you in every way possible. Everything already felt so different. Too stunned to speak, and his mind blank, you were perfect to him.
Now, Bradley didn’t believe in fate, and he certainly didn’t believe in love at first sight, at least not until the night he met you. But that all changed so fast, and Bradley found himself sat at the bar with you until closing, drinking beer after beer – misery long forgotten and the beginnings of the most beguiling relationship starting to bloom.
The relationship progressed fast.
You both went on your first date a week later. It was simple, but perfect. Bradley picked you up from your apartment with a bunch of flowers, dressed in his father’s shirt - the same shirt he couldn’t bear to look at when he was younger. You answered the door in a white sundress, hair falling naturally around your shoulders with a bright smile on your face that had Bradley’s heart racing. After having to endure a 10-minute interrogation from your best friend, you followed Bradley out to his Bronco and drove down to the beach where you had a picnic and watched the sunset, lying on your backs next to each other on an old picnic blanket on the sand.
Your face mirrored his own, both of your hearts pounding against your chests, synchronised with one another. Hands shaking and smiling at each other through tight lips, breaths shallow, bodies vibrating. Eyes ablaze with a burning desire, thinking of all of the possibilities, reserved from seeming too eager to admit how both of you felt, feelings reciprocated. But knowing, you were it for each other.
About a month into your relationship with Bradley, one torturous month of being nagged by the squad on when they were going to meet you, but one incredible month spent with you, he took you to the Hard Deck to meet up with his friends for drinks. All was going well, and Bradley felt content in knowing you were already comfortable around the people he considered family.
“Bradshaw! You never told us your girl was that hot.” Hangman stood next to him, handing him the darts, a smirk on his face.
“Shut up Bagman, just because you lack the brain capacity to keep a girl around for more than a week.” Phoenix scoffed, slapping him on the chest before patting Bradley’s arm sympathetically.
Bradley knew to pay no mind to Jake, but as he watched you laughing with Bob and Javy by the bar in a pretty pink sundress, sipping on a cocktail too sweet for him to fathom, he couldn’t help but let the insecurities creep in. He felt like the luckiest man alive to be your boyfriend, and he was proud to call you his girlfriend, but he constantly carried that heavy burden of how he felt about himself with him. Sometimes he could supress it, put on a brave face and everyone sees him as the most confident person in whatever room he’s in. But Bradley could never truly talk about how he felt, every syllable of every word that’s willing its way out of his mouth, pushing his head further underwater – looking in the mirror and seeing the scars along his face and neck, carved into his skin like a malediction, something he was precariously wishing he could remove.
“Hey Roos, you okay?” Bradley didn’t even realise you’d made your way over to him until he heard your voice and felt your hand reach up to smooth over his hair, so transfixed on his inner thoughts.
He hummed, kissing your forearm, and then talking your free hand in his own. Just seeing your face with concern written all over it was enough for his heart to nearly burst out of his chest.
It was well past 1am when the Hard Deck closed for good, and Bradley led you out to his bronco and put your seatbelt on. Before he could move around to the driver’s side, you grabbed his shirt and pulled him in for a sweet kiss. “Thank you for tonight, I had a really nice time with your friends. Even though Jake’s a bit of a dick” Bradley chuckled “I’m glad you had a good time and I’m happy you’re happy. They all love you.” Bradley caught himself on his words after that. He wanted to tell you how much he loved you, how he knew he loved you from the moment he saw you and how he was certain he was going to spend the rest of his life loving you. Neither of you had said it yet, but you often found yourself wanting to say it too. You both drove home in a comfortable silence, Bradley’s hand resting gently on your thigh, the windows slightly ajar and the radio playing quietly but those three words had been hanging in the air, urging to be said the whole ride home.
Bradley parked up outside and you led him into your apartment. You both changed out of your clothes, and you threw on one of Bradleys old UVA shirts that he’d left at your place. “You coming to bed?” Bradley said quietly as he pulled you into a hug and rested his chin on top of your head.
“Yeah, I just need to take of my makeup and stuff.” You said pulling away to head towards the bathroom. “And stuff?” Bradley asked and you giggled. “Yeah, like skincare. Fancy joining me?” You asked and you shrieked when Bradley picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, carrying in you into the bathroom and setting you down on the counter without saying a word. You washed your face and picked up your serums and moisturiser, talking Bradley through your skincare routine whilst he stared at you as if you had grown three heads. Bradley watched you squirt some of the serum onto your hand and rub it all over his face. He closed his eyes and relaxed his shoulders, letting out a deep breath. It was his turn to apply it to your face next and by the end of the routine you were both a giggling mess, breaths heavy with laughter. And in that moment, Bradley forgot about his scars, he forgot about all of his insecurities. He was at his happiest with you, and in that moment, he knew he couldn’t wait any longer.
Still sat on the counter, you pulled Bradley closer and rested your forehead against his looking into his eyes with such a deep admiration for how truly beautiful he was.
“I love you, Bradley.”
And there it was. Those three simple words with the most powerful meaning. Bradley felt as though the air had been knocked from his lungs, winded like the time he fell off the slide in his backyard at six years old.
“Say that again.” Bradley murmured, hands tightening their grip on your waist.
“I love you, Bradley. So much.”
And with that, Bradley smashed his lips onto yours in a bruising kiss.
“Fuck, I love you. I love you.” He repeated, over and over again until you were back in your bedroom. Placing you down on your bed, he covered his body with yours. You moaned into the kiss and gasped as he left a trail of kisses down your neck and chest. He slipped his hand under the hem of your dress and began toying with the waistband of your underwear, when you sucked in a breath, he stopped immediately, brown eyes searching yours for any kind of discomfort.
“Do you want this? We can stop baby I really don’t mind.”
“No, I want this Bradley, I do.” You said and he made light work of pulling off your dress and ridding himself of his shirt and pants before kissing you again, hooking his fingers in your underwear and pulling them down your legs. Bradley teased your clit before sinking one of his digits into your soaked pussy and kissing your hip before taking your sensitive bud into his mouth. “Fuck Bradley.” You moaned, butterflies erupting in your stomach as he squeezed your him in a comforting encouragement. Gripping his hair tightly, your climax quickly approaching you moaned loudly “Oh my god I love you Bradley fuck!”
Coming down from your high, Bradley teased your folds with the head of his cock before slowly pushing himself fully into you and you both moaned. “You feel amazing, sweet girl, I love you.” Bradley moaned against your mouth, intertwining his hand with your own before slowly rocking his hips into your own. You were a mess underneath him, whimpering and whining and Bradley took a moment to admire how beautiful you looked, the moment was so raw, the only light in the room was the dim glow of the moon which illuminating your features.
It was at this moment that Bradley realised that the confessions of love shared that night were terrifying, and they scared him more than anything else he’s ever experienced in his life. The emotions he felt consumed his body like an entity and he knew that the easiest choice he’s ever made in his life was you. Out of all of the women in this world, he didn’t want anyone else as much as he wanted you, he didn’t need anyone else as much as he needed you. You both spent that night wrapped up in each other, bodies tangled between the sheets in a state of completion, reassurance, and love. There was nothing in the world that could ruin such a deep connection.
For the next three months of the relationship, Bradley knew he could see himself spending the rest of his life with you. Moving in together, he wanted to be your new home. He wanted to build a life with you, make four walls and a roof into something so much more than just a place of residence. He dreamt of waking up next to you every morning and falling asleep next to you every night. He wanted to help you cook your favourite foods together and he wanted to clean the dishes. He wanted to argue over where the candles were kept when there’s a storm and the power goes out. He wanted you to fill him with memories of your own, pictures of your graduation, you most treasured trinkets, the spicy books you read that he pokes fun at you for when you get defensive and say that you don’t read just porn, it has to have a plot.
After years of accepting the fact that he’d be alone because he could never have someone else endure the grief, the pain, and the suffering that he watched his mother go through, he met you, and he was irrevocably and deeply consumed by you. He dreamt of the day you had a child of your own together, the beach days, the baking, the singalongs in the car, babyproofing every corner of the house he wanted that. And he so desperately wanted that with you by his side.
And that’s exactly what you both did. You bought a house together along the coast, one that reminded him exactly of the house that he grew up in, with a big porch and a swing that hung just to the left of the front door. You both packed up your lives into those brown moving boxes, messy handwriting scrawled onto the side of each of them.
Unpacking said boxes in the height of summer was a gruelling task, but one that was made much more enjoyable by the presence of each other ands by the end of the day you both collapsed on the porch swing, happy and content in each other’s arms.
“I’ve never felt as happy anywhere else than when I’m with you sweet girl.” Bradley said, nuzzling his head into your hair, treasuring the scent so not to forget it when he inevitably gets deployed.
“This is our forever baby.” You said intertwining your hand with his as you both sat cuddled up with one another listening to the waves of the ocean crashing and making plans for your future.
Two months settled into your new home with Bradley, two months of the rest of your lives. Lives that entailed lazy Sundays, coffees in the morning, walks along the beach, lingering sweet kisses amid pillow talk and making love – and all things perfect. But also lives that weren’t always bright, lives that held bickering, late night fights over pointless things because you both had tough days at work, misunderstandings, and the challenges of balancing busy days. Some days were filled with bright skies and sunshine, other days filled with dark skies and rain. It wasn’t easy, but you had Bradley and Bradley had you. There was calm and there was chaos, but you had each other to navigate your ways through any problem, together.
But sometimes, the best things in life are short lived.
Bradley spent 190 days with the love of his life.
Standing in the Hard Deck with a bunch of flowers, waiting for you to pull up after work, he fiddled with the ring in his free hand and let out a shaky breath. You hadn’t been in a relationship for a very long time, but they say when you know, you know. And Bradley knew. He knew in his heart without a doubt – even if he couldn’t find the right words, he knew that he fell more in love with you every single day. You were his sun, his moon, and his stars. You were his happiness, his best friend, and the kindest soul he had ever met. Sometimes he wondered if he ever told you enough. You never asked anything of him. You loved Bradley for who he was and never in his 36 years on earth did he ever think that somewhere in this world he would’ve found a heart like yours.
Bradley didn’t get the chance to propose. His time with you was cut short by an alcoholic who made the unwise decision to get behind the wheel of a car and take away not one, but two lives that night.
“Bradley!” You wailed from the top of the stairs. Bradley shot up from his seat on the couch and ran up the stairs tripping several times.
“What is it baby? Are you okay?” He asked, hands on his knees trying to catch his breath, not overly concerned when he saw that you were okay.
Looking at him with tears in your eyes, body shaking, and one hand covering your mouth, you raised your other hand to reveal a positive pregnancy test.
“Oh my god, honey, are you – are you sure?” He asked, reaching out to take the test from you to double, triple check.
Nodding your head fervently “I’m absolutely sure, Bradley we’re going to have a baby. Oh god”
Bradley had never been so over the moon. Yes, it was seen as too soon to some, but you couldn’t think of any better blessing, and neither could Bradley. You were both ecstatic and couldn’t wait to start a family together. And that was all taken away from him too soon. He’ll never get to meet his baby. And he wishes, he wishes so hard for the 3am wake up calls for feeds, the dirty diapers, the screaming bloody murder in the middle of the night – all so he can count ten fingers and ten toes, hear that steady heartbeat, and look into the eyes of who he was hoping to be your double. But sometimes life has other plans.
Bradley can’t say he believes he will ever meet another person like you. Someone so full of light even in the darkest of moments. Someone who loved him for him. Someone who would give so much of themselves to others and never complain. Someone who saw the good in everything, saw the good in him.
The one night he’ll remember for the rest of his life, the night you lay in bed together, Bradley’s head resting on your stomach, your hands tracing the patterns of the freckles on his back like a constellation. The two of you dwelling in the afterglow of finding out that you were both going to be bringing a little one of your own into your lives, a mixture of you both, your baby. Bradley was ecstatic but anxious.
“I don’t think I’ll ever understand the good that you see in me” He whispered.
“Bradley, its not the good in you that I see, my love. It’s the good that I see in this world when I’m with you, the good that you make me see.”
If there was ever one thing Bradley Bradshaw was completely and utterly sure of, it was that he was going to spend the rest of his life by himself. He had spent his whole life trying to push away the idea of love because he believed he would be the reason it wouldn’t work out. He had spent his whole life overcome with the grief that came with losing his parents. And he was okay with being alone, until he met you, an angel he believed his parents sent to him, to walk this earth by his side, for however long it was going to be. And despite his time being cut short with you, he had the most extraordinary and captivating experience of understanding what it’s like to love and be loved.
Taglist:
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vcrooster · 2 years
Text
Cherry Flavored
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Smut & Some Angst.
Paring: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw & Reader (call sign: Cherry)
Word count: 4 k
Summary: All that Rooster needed to do was let out some steam.
Authors note: I don’t even know how I came up with this but I hope you like it <3. If you guys have any ideas you would like me to right about I’m all open for some requests.
***
Rooster didn’t even notice his arms were feeling sore until he was in the showers. He could hear the mix of all of the other guys voices, and all of them came to the same conclusion. Maverick had kicked everyone’s ass.
Including him. Twice.
He was so mad at himself. He should’ve taken the damn shot.
And fucking Coyote flirting with you since the call back isn’t really letting him be at his fullest.
You always politely declined him. Politely as in you said no thank you and he took it as a try harder.
And every time it took everything in Rooster not to tell him off.
All of the whistles had made him turn his head towards the door. “If it ain’t Cherry and Phoenix” Hangman said when saw you walk in the room.
The collar of your shirt still had sweat around it and your suit was half way undone.
You were one of the two female pilots that were recalled to Top Gun. Most of the time you got treated as equals, but they were moments like this where the guys were just being stupid.
You lock eyes with Rooster. He doesn’t hold it for more than a couple of seconds. “Don’t worry lady’s, we are out of here”. Hangman says, you are actually grateful that they’ve respected your privacy. “Showers are all yours”.
He seems irritated and upset. You can’t do anything about it right now, not in front of everyone.
You started to fool around with him a couple a years ago. Sneaking around, just letting some steam off was the whole purpose of it.
It wasn’t your intention to grow feelings for him. You both stayed together for the holidays, neither of you had families to go back to, so you kept each other company.
Rooster sure wasn’t expecting to find himself asking for you to give him a chance.
But how couldn’t he. Rooster was crazy over you.
The decision to keep it a secret was mutual. You didn’t want to risk a transfer to a different unit. Truth is you guys were a good team in the air, and you couldn’t trust anybody else to not get you killed up there.
“Come on Rooster, don’t try to get lucky” Harvard patted him on the back before leaving the room, without of course giving you a last glance.
“Are you messing around with Rooster?” Phoenix asked with a smirk on her face once they were alone.
“What?” No, no, no, she doesn’t know. “I’m not messing around with nobody”.
“You don’t sound so sure” she teases.
“Oh shut up”.
You feel somewhat unsteady when you get the sensation that she isn’t joking around. Shit, Phoenix is like a sister to Bradley, of course she’s going to know when something is off about him.
“Coyote and Hangman would be terribly heartbroken” honestly starts feeling like she is trying to get something out of you. “I can’t blame you though”.
Hangman would never admit to it sober, but during a late night drunk conversation with Phoenix it had slipped his mouth how he saw you almost naked in the showers.
It was an accident, genuinely.
He wasn’t a pervert he had just been stupid enough to forget his keys under his spare shirt in his locker.
Now maybe he wasn’t a good team player but he was sure a gentleman, nobody but Phoenix knew about it.
The image of you getting undressed had been the only thing helping him get off for the next week or so. He never made a move on you in a serious type of manner; however, he would occasionally flirt when he got a little too cocky.
“Whatever”. You answer.
You ignore her comments and head to take a shower. The warm water felt delicious over your skin. The training today has been hard— embarrassing you would say. You are supposed to be the best of the best, and here comes this guy that took everyone down with little to no effort.
But the 200 push-ups under the California sun were the worst part of it all. You really don’t want to complain, because Rooster had to do double of that.
You make sure to get done before Phoenix is. You hurry to your small designated room before she asks more questions and you get too annoyed at her.
It’s an hour till midnight when you go to Rooster’s room. You decided it was better to give him some time to cool off before you checked up on him.
“Hey” he doesn’t say anything he just moves aside to make room for you to come in.
You watch him walk back and take a seat at the edge of his bed. His face is painted with exhaustion, he’s still upset for what you could tell.
Your hand drops on his shoulder when you sit next to him, trying to give him some sort of comfort. “It’s alright Rooster, he smoked everyone else out there”.
“He pulled my papers”.
“What? Maverick?” You knew he had a rattle going on with him but he never mentioned why.
“He pulled my application on the naval academy” his voice was a mix of gloom and anger. “Set me back four years”.
“What you did today, you could’ve got yourself kicked out” You know how he lets anger blind him. He’s just a guy that lets his emotions get the best of him.
“Don’t worry about it—“
“I am” You slightly raise your voice, You’re not going to sit there letting him pity himself. Bradley is a great pilot he just needs to loosen up a little. “You can’t leave us flying with Hangman”.
“I’m sorry” he finally looks at you, you feel the palm of his hand gently squeeze your inner thigh.
“I don’t want you to apologize to me, I just want you to prove him wrong”.
He tucks a piece of hair behind your ear before leaning in, pressing his lips sweetly against yours.
They stay still for a second and pulls back, pressing his forehead on your own. You know that no matter how much time goes by, he’ll always be breathtaking to you.
You are the one that decides to make the next move. Wanting to make him feel good, help him relax a little. You move your lips gradually over his without any intention at first.
Slowly as you deepen the kiss you straddle his lap, his fingers immediately dig in the skin of your hips holding you steady, knowing your next move.
He knows it’s a bad idea to fuck you in the dorm rooms, shit, Yale and Coyote were sleeping in the rooms next to his, maybe he wouldn’t mind finally putting and end to Coyote insistence on you, but he knew it wasn’t the place or time.
Your fingers slide into his golden hair when his tongue meets yours. He isn’t trying to get carried away but he can help to get rid of your shirt completely when your hand gets lost inside his boxers.
His hands are roaming from your waist to your breasts. He covers them with his hands, squeezing them softly earning a moan from you.
It’s all it took for him to return to his senses.
“Wait, wait, babe wait” he sounds rushed as he’s trying to catch his breath again. “We can’t, not here”.
“Just relax” You shushed him.
“They’re going to hear us”. He’s doing his best to be the nice guy and stop you, but he’s had a shitty day and the idea of intimacy with his girl, was sounding very good at the moment.
He’s looking at you with expectant eyes, that’s all you need for you to kneel in front of him and tug the waistband of his boxers.
“You just gotta make sure you're very quiet then”.
Once your hand is around his cock he lets out a shaky breath. You work your hand along his shaft and seconds later his hand is on top of your own, guiding the speed. “A little slower”. The breathes out.
You do as he says. Your thumb brushes against his tip a couple of times, gaining a sigh from him. God, you love the sounds he makes.
“Feeling better?” You let out a giggle with a soft smile.
“Fuck yes” he groans.
You wrap your lips on him without warning, he throws back his head, hissing and moaning your name in what sounded like a whisper.
His fingers get tangled in your hair carefully undoing the tie holding your ponytail up. He has always loved you with your hair down. But what he loves the most is when he can just take it in a fistful for himself to guide your movements.
“You always take me so good baby” he grunts.
Rooster looks down on you. His eyes trail to your arched back and those boy shorts that barely covered your ass, all he can think is how good it looks from where he’s at.
That sight alone makes him lose his mind in between gasps and groans. It’s always so difficult for him to maintain eye contact when you always look so perfect. And it’s all just for him.
He moans getting all caught up in the moment, you don’t even pay attention to the tears forming in the corner of your eyes when he hits the back of your throat.
Your tongue swirls around his tip and your hand works on whatever you mouth can’t reach. He hissed pushing the hair off your forehead. “Fuck”.
His eyes meet yours right before he’s about to cum. His eyebrows are furrowed and his mouth slightly opened. He pulls himself out and next thing you feel is the warm strings covering your cleavage.
It takes a moment for him to compose his breath, meanwhile you clean yourself with the towel sitting on the chair next to his bed.
He tucks himself back in his boxers. He shifts in his twin size bed, lifting his body on his elbows.
He gets lost looking at the cherry tattoo on your shoulder, the reason you earned your call sign. He lets out a smirk remembering the time you were drunk and complaining that you wanted your call sign to be Echo, not the stupid tattoo you got when you’d just turned 18.
“Hey…” he reaches out for you making you fall on his lap.
You know he wants to return the favor when he turns you under him and starts kissing you hard. Fingers start to play on the waistband of your shorts teasing you. But you're not falling for it.
His lips trail off down your neck where he nips on the skin of your collar bones. “Oh no Bradshaw, I have to go”.
He yanks his head up looking a little lost. He completely forgot he was the one trying to stop you all along.
“Come on, just stay for a little bit”.
You smile at his childish actions. You know if you stay in his room you're ending up getting tangled in his sheets and to be honest it hasn’t been long since you guys had sex.
Truth is you ended up fucking him in some random motel after his little preformance in the Hard Deck.
“Unless you want to explain to Cyclone, why was I in your room all night Lieutenant Bradshaw” He smiles playfully kissing your jaw and lastly he leaves a soft kiss on your lips.
“I think I’m good on that one”.
“I thought so too”
You leave before it gets any later than it already is.
You hope that’s enough to get him off his thoughts for a bit– and a better mood.
And it works for what you could tell. It was all going alright but when it was his turn to do the exercise Maverick wasn’t exactly too constructive about it.
The best way to describe today’s training was no other than a shit show.
Maverick and Rooster had put on one hell of a performance in front of everyone. But what tied it all together was Hangman’s comments on Rooster's dad. To be more specific how he passed flying with Maverick.
“Hey!”. You yell at Hangman before he turns the corner.
“Cherry” He sighs “Your pretty little face is becoming more annoying every–“ you slap him across his face, you’d like to say you stopped there but before he could steady himself you push him against the wall. “Ouch”.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” your voice comes out more broken than strong. “His problems aren’t for you to broadcast in front of everyone”.
“Is it getting too personal with Rooster?”. He sounds pretty cynical and that smile painted across his face only made you angrier. “Because I have to say I thought I was more of your type”.
“You’re such a fucking asshole Jake”.
“Lighten up Cherry, Jesus”. He winks not before looking at you up and down. “I’m feeling a little jealous”.
“I swear–“
“Guys just stop” Phoenix interrupted you both before the situation escalated.
As soon as she says that you’re on your way to Bradley’s dorm. Phoenix tries to stop you to try and calm the situación down but it honestly comes out as more annoying than helpful.
You’re only knocking a couple of times on his door before he opens it.
His suit is half way undone, the arms are wrapped around his waist and he’s still clearly mad about the whole situation.
His eyes don’t soften as they usually do when he looks at you. In fact his hand is wrapped around your arm pulling you into his room.
“I’m so fucking over this shit” He tells you before you could say anything. “What does he fucking want me to do?”.
“Rooster…” he lets you reach out for his shoulder. You don’t want to say anything, he can be a real hothead when he’s mad, and honestly he’s had enough for today.
“And Hangman, fuck–“ He’s clearly very frustrated, you get, he’s feeling cornered and embarrassed, damn he almost hit the guy in front of the whole group.
“I slapped him just minute ago” you say and he chuckles slightly, the last reaction you thought you’d get from him right.
You hand finds his squeezing it gently.
He allows himself to relax a little. It’s just you, it’s always alright when he's with you.
He joins your lips with his before he thinks too much about it. He presses your back against the wood of the door, taking you by surprise. It takes you a moment to respond and sync up with his pace.
His lips feel rough over yours– desperate would be a better way to describe it. But he’s hurt, you at least could attempt to try and talk to him.
“Hey, we should –“ His head shakes denying anything you’re trying to say to him. He quickly shuts you up by pressing his mouth onto yours, harder this time. His tongue finds its way inside your mouth and you can’t help but to moan into his. “Rooster”.
He wants a distraction. And to be honest you could use one too. There was no point in resisting him.
The way you kiss him is almost in unspoken agreement between both of you. Your hands immediately shoot to his hair and down his neck.
“I need you baby”. He whispers on your skin. Shit alright.
Your hands start to untie the arms of his suit pulling it all the way down.
He straightens you up and his lips are on your neck, he nips the skin from that area until he manages to get a whimper out of your mouth. He smiles trying to catch a breath.
You push him off until the back of his knees hits his bed. He falls into the mattress lifting himself with his elbows. He looks at you impatiently for your next move.
You have to say the part you love the most of fucking with Rooster is the constant fight of who’s in charge.
And honestly Bradley can’t get enough of it either. The only thing rolling on his mind is how hot you look trying to handle him.
And shit, you looked even better stripping in front of him right now.
His gaze doesn’t leave you a single time. It follows you undoing your boots but he’s most excited when you slowly start to unzip your suit.
He reaches out to you trying to help you finish the job but he only gets pushed back into the mattress.
“Not yet” there is a small grin forming on his face by watching you step out of your suit. His eyes trail from your legs to your face. You’d stop being shy and nervous around him from the first couple of times sleeping with him. Fuck, you weren’t fully undressed and there he was hard as rock inside of his boxers.
You crawl over him and he still doesn't dare to touch you, his eyes never leave your own. You could still perceive a hint of the scent of musk and vanilla on him. Your knees stop when they reach his lap and you settle right on top of his cock.
“You’re going to have to give me a little more than that sweetheart” You chuckle having fun with him. Your palm pushes his chest down, you slowly start grinding on him, having him hiss right away “There we go”. Rooster groans.
You finally feel his tight grip on your hips making your pace faster. His hands trail up your sides lifting your shirt all the way up your rib cage until it’s off your body. The palm of his hand slides from your bellybutton to your breast squeezing and kneading them.
“Shit” he chokes out. He pulls you down, meeting him in a messy kiss. “I want to fuck you so badly already”.
He quickly puts on one of the condoms in his night stand before his mind drifts anywhere else.
“That eager Bradshaw?” that’s all it takes for him to hook his hands on the back of your thighs. He lifted you without a problem and in a second he had your back against the wall.
“You have no idea” He grinds a couple of more times on you adjusting your thighs around his waist making sure he has you how he wants you. “Hold tight babe”.
He stretched his neck up to keep his lips against yours moaning against them as he slammed into you again.
You are the one that guides him inside you, having you both gasp at the new sensation. Almost right away he is pounding hard into you leaving no time for you to adjust to him.
You have to steady yourself on his shoulders when you feel him go deeper. He bites the skin of your collarbone softly passing the tip of his tongue over it. He's always careful not to leave any sort of marks on you but this time he didn’t even care.
He gripped your thighs tightly when you clenched around him as the tip of his cock kept brushing on your sweet spot.
“Holy fuck–“ you say breathlessly.
He knows that you guys aren’t loud enough for someone else to hear. But he can’t help to like the thought of you moaning his name for everyone to hear that you're his.
Your face hides in the crook of his neck leaving open mouth kisses along it, loving the sensation of his moans vibrating against his throat.
Your eyes glide down taking a look at where your bodies are joined. The pleasure building inside you starts to feel a little overwhelming, your thighs tense up and your forehead ends up resting over his “Rooster”. It comes out more like a plead than you intended and it drives him crazy.
“I know baby”. He whispers.
He jerks you up in a sudden move, his arm on your waist holding you tighter against him. He’s thrusting faster and harder than before. Your nails dig into the skin of his shoulder blades in an attempt to hold on to him as best as you can.
It almost feels as if he is pulling out completely as he slams as deep and hard as he can into you.
You got so lost into him that you almost didn’t realize that you were about to cum. “Are you almost there?” He asks and you can bring yourself to answer so the only response you can give him is a desperate whimper.
He pounds a few more times and it finally explodes on you. He’s kissing you to drown the moans you're making. And he keeps doing it while he’s finally coming. It hits him harder than he thought it would, he feels like he's melting into you.
You take a moment to look at him. You’re sure he’s the most handsome guy you’ve seen in your life. God, you’re so in love with him.
You stay with him until he falls asleep. He usually doesn’t sleep very well but his soft snoring filled the room not too long after.
You leave his room making sure to set his alarm for the morning.
It wasn’t late so seeing Maverick waiting outside your door didn’t surprise you that much.
“Lieutenant Metcalf” You felt he was angry. Part of you was glad he wasn’t disappointed.
You’ve known him for a long time, your grandfather was his instructor when he was in Top Gun. You’d occasionally check on him throughout the years but never were exactly close to him, not like he is– or was– with Rooster.
“Are you here to lecture me?” You weren’t intending to come out as defensive as you did.
“No, but it’s not that hard to put one and two together”. He’s still irritated from training and you can’t blame him. “I should kick one of you off the team” his arms were crossed over his chest.
The thing about Maverick is that you knew no matter how bad his ass was in the line he would always have the back of the people he loved.
“Are you?” He tried to ignore the obvious fact that you look like you just got fucked despite your efforts of trying to clean your self up.
“That’s up to you”. His voice got softer. “Get some rest Cherry”.
“Yes sir”.
Contrary to Rooster, you kept tossing and turning in the bed all night. Your mind just kept on wandering off to what could happen to Bradley and you once Maverick was out of the picture.
You really didn’t want to think of the possibility of not flying with him anymore.
Best thing for now is to keep your hands off each other and hope for the best.
That was until you were headed to the beach the very next day and the hickeys on your tits were very visible with the sports bra you were planning to wear.
You would’ve gotten away with the simple white shirt you used as your cover up if Coyote and Hangman hadn't decided to be funny and pulled you and Phoenix to the water making your shirt very see through.
“Damn Cherry, you should've told me I was being too hard last night”. Jake pointed out sarcastically at the now visible dark marks on your chest. “You know how much I hate putting on a show”.
“I bet you do Hangman” Rooster said, coming up towards you, helping you out of the water and draping his hawaiian shirt on your shoulders and wrapping one of his hands on your waist lifting you to his side.
He didn’t care that all eyes were on you guys, but shit, Cyclone didn’t have to show up right at that moment.
You knew you were fucked when he whispered to Maverick.
“What’s going on with those two?” He pointed out to both of you.
“They must be very competitive sir”.
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waklman · 10 months
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Not Strong Enough
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summary: bradley struggles to understand his grief or you ask bradley why he doesn’t like when people take care of him.
warnings: heavy talks of parental death, mental health, and medicine/medication. 18+ blog.
word count: 1.8k
this is for boygenius fans who also took the line ‘once i took your medication to know what it’s like’ line quite literally bc haha same ����🏻, not sure if it'll even translate well but lol
something ‘bout you masterlist.
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Bradley Bradshaw had been a freshly twenty three when he first discovered that yellowed pill bottle hidden away in his bathroom cabinet. For all these years, the plastic casing was stashed behind a deteriorating box of waterproof band-aids and a decade-old bottle of rubbing alcohol, not meant to be found by anyone else but Carole Bradshaw. 
So, when his innocent search for a first aid kit ended with him blankly staring at a cluster of tiny blue tablets spilled into the palm of his hand, the first thought that crossed his mind was to put it away. He knew his mother was no longer around to finish off her prescription, he should put them back where she had originally left them. It’d be wrong if he were to toss them down, especially when they weren’t his to take.
But Bradley Bradshaw did it anyway. 
In swallowing down the expired medication, cupping a handful of sink water to aid himself, a sick expectation had welled up within Bradley that night. A part of him hoped that once they dissolved in his stomach—he’d finally be able to understand why she needed them in the first place—that it would give him a glimpse into the mind of the woman he was so curious about. That, if he just had a mere taste of what Carole Bradshaw had taken daily without his knowledge, he'd somehow be closer to her in that way.
Once they settled, Bradley would be able to encapsulate her essence, gaping that bridge he wedged between them. Perhaps then, he'd stop feeling so guilty for looking like a splitting image of her dead husband while she was combating her grief. 
But for a plastic tube so brightly colored, it held something so unbelievably numb.
Laying stiffly across the bed he’d already started to outgrow, limbs dangling off the ends of the mattress, a black hole began to materialize—tearing right through his chest that night.
Carole Bradshaw never had to outwardly say it, but Bradley knew she struggled with things he couldn’t begin to fully comprehend as a young boy, barely grazed by the cruelty of the world. So, he did his best to not be another problem for her to deal with growing up, as she had fair share of those in her lifetime. 
In elementary school, Bradley was the only student seated quietly, scribbling drawings of airplanes into his name tag with a thick blue crayon, while everyone else cried for their parents on the first day of school. It had been a strange revelation for a child to come to, that he needed to learn how to be alone—how to be without his parents, in case they both weren’t there anymore.
Yet, by the second grade he came to terms with that. 
And throughout highschool and college, Bradley made sure to stay out of the line of trouble, for the sake of his mother who made herself sick with worry. Despite what others may think, Bradley paid special attention to his grades, in the same way Carole tended to the burst of star shaped lilies planted in their backyard. And in times where he felt alone during his youth, it almost felt cruel to voice that back to his mother when she asked him ‘How was your day sweetheart?’
It was only when she passed that he finally cried out to her, gripping onto that limp hand by the hospital bedside. It was only when Bradley was truly alone in his life that he felt it was enough to finally say it outloud. 
But in his true nature, Bradley bounced back.
The realization that came to him when he was a child, that he’d eventually stretch out the rest of his life alone, hit him again. Moving forward, he had been so sure that he’d be fine with that. There was no room to feel a semblance of pain if he kept everyone at an arm's length away. It somewhat worked to ease him off the loss of Carole, and it should work with everything else in life. But, the universe had different plans for him, when they led him to you.
It had been another night you two spent staring at the stars, sitting on the same blanket on his front lawn, where Bradley found himself not thinking twice about everything he said. Maybe it was the comfort the night sky provided him, or maybe it was because he was just talking to you.
“Hey Bradley?” you call out for him, cutting through the silence. “Why don’t you let people do things for you?”
Bradley keeps his eyes trained on the lights dusted besides the full moon, knowing you were looking at it too. “What do you mean?” He softly asks, delaying a bit.
Slowly, you turn your head, admiring freckles that speckled across his cheek. They lightly danced over the scars adorning his face, and just barely kissed over the tip of his nose. And despite the array of stars twinkling right in front of you, trying to catch your attention again as they glimmered—you had always found him much more mesmerizing.
Bradley Bradshaw was a once in a lifetime sight you had the privilege of seeing up close. And for that reason, you can’t look away from him, not now at least. 
“When people let you skip them in line, you don’t do it,” you warily pause, watching Bradley nod as you start. “Then you do that thing where you buy your own beers before your team gets to the Hard Deck, so they don’t beat you to it,” you bite your lip, digging through your list of observations.
“And you have this look when I do stuff for you, like, you don’t understand why I’m making you lunch or why I’m buying you stupid things that remind me of you,” you finally share, stretching your legs out. 
The silence that lingers after is heavy.
Bradley takes in a quiet breath, reminded by the life sized teddy bear you lugged into his apartment just last week. “It’s not something I’m used to,” he provides weakly, recalling the way you excitedly screeched at him when the bear fit perfectly on his couch. He’s still not looking at you as he continues. “It’s..it’s dumb. But the idea of someone looking after me, even if it's in a small way. I just…it feels weird for me.” 
Everyone he knew, acted as if they hit the jackpot when someone else confessed that they loved them ardently. But while others wished for a moment like that, Bradley wished against it—it would be too burdensome for him. Bradley never wanted someone to love him again, not until now.
“Do you…not like when I do things for you? Is that something you don’t–”
“No. When it’s you, it feels different, ” he cuts you off suddenly. “When you pack me lunch, I feel good eating it. I don’t…I don’t feel guilty eating it,” his head drops, hanging forward like a weight. There had been so many times he secretly threw up his own mother’s cooking, thinking it would hurt less if he didn’t take her token of love. “I hate feeling bad about things like that, it’s not normal,” he confesses.
You blink back the tears coating your eyes, not wanting to lose sight of his starlike freckles. “I want to help you feel good Bradley,” you whisper, fingers twitching at your side.
Swallowing thickly, your eyes dart between the solemn expression he’s wearing and the scrunch his fingers give the thin blanket below him. “I want you to feel okay with being loved, you deserve it as much as anyone else does. I want that for you now, and I think…I would’ve wanted it for you if we were both kids.—if I was lucky enough to know you when I was ten.” 
At that, Bradley finally smiles, and it doesn’t seem so tasking to do so. “Would you have sat next to me in class?” He finally turns to you, starting a study of your face, realizing that you glow brighter than the stars shining above both of you.
“In class, and during lunch time. Then we would have hung out during recess too because obviously I win you over with my charms,” you softly smile at him, playing with the idea.
It’s too late for it now—the possibility of you two growing up together as kids. But a part of Bradley likes to imagine it anyway.
If you had been there during his quiet walks home from school, it would have kept his tears from falling. If you fell over in a heated game of tag, he would’ve kissed over your bruised knees like he does now. And if you were there when he came home to an empty house, he wouldn’t have taken Carole’s medication to know what it’s like to be someone who loved him.  
“What if all I did was draw the ugliest airplane models?” 
“I was a pretty weird kid. I’d probably sit there drooling while watching you doodle,” you confirm, biting your lip to suppress a small laugh.
Bradley extends his hand out to you, uncurling your lip from your teeth to hear it spill from you. Right as he does, you finally giggle in his palm. “Hey, don’t start droolin’ on me Babybear,” he warns, laughing with you.
With his hand cupping your cheek, he leans in to press a quick kiss to your smiling mouth. “I wish we could’ve been kids together,” he cements, pulling back. 
“Bradley,” you lean into his hand, warming his calloused palm. “Did you forget about us snatching the last toy plane right from that kid in Target the other day?” 
Bradley lightly shrugs, tracing his hand up to tousle your hair. “We have more fun with that plane than he ever will,” he decides, leaving his hand there, holding the top of your head firmly. 
Head clamped under his fingers, you nod. “I bet he wishes he could fly it as high as we do when I’m sittin’ on your shoulders.”
“That’s right,” he gradually nods in agreement. 
“Speaking of, let’s go back inside and fly it after you take your medication,” you sternly point a finger at him, pairing it with a look.
Bradley mindlessly begins to draw an outline of a plane into your scalp, using his index resting over the back of your head. “Will you feed it to me?” 
“That’s a silly question. You know I always do,” you tilt your head slightly. 
Bradley softens, finishing off his invisible sketch, adding the detail to the airplane wing. 
“Yeah, you always do,” he echoes. 
Lieutenant Bradshaw had been thirty nine when he first discovered he’d been prescribed the medication his mother once took. Instead of her name printed across the label, there was his name. Bradley Nick Bradshaw.
But, when it finally came time to take it, Bradley was never shaking above the sink, apprehensive as it spilled out into his palm, no. Because you were always there, softly whispering I love yous as you gently dipped it into his mouth.
Bradley Bradshaw was never left curious about how it felt to love someone like him, not when you kept telling him how rewarding it was.
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