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sweetlittlegingy · 1 year

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The Monster You Created

“You corrupted her soul, what else did you expect”

🍒 Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Callsign Cherry Masterlist

🍒 Pairing: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Y/N 'Cherry' Bishop, Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Y/n 'Cherry' Bishop

🍒 Word Count: 4.3 k

🍒 Warnings: Parental death, sexism, asshole Jake and Bradley, jokes about them being together, swearing, breach of trust, talk of virginity loss, loss of friendship (and love...), angst, AS (asshole pilot), protective Bob, mourning

🍒 A/n: Here we go, let me know what you guys think. Bobby has made become an unexpected important appearance and he's staying.

🍒 Library (Follow for updates! I no longer have a taglist.)

Your nails drum against the steering wheel as you drive, and the saltwater breeze fills the air surrounding you. You had just recently taken the top off your jeep and the warm summer weather did wonders for your skin. The sunglasses that rest on the bridge of your nose dim the blinding light of the sunset, though as you pull into the Hard Deck you lower them to take in the beachside bar.

Receiving the call back to Top Gun came as somewhat of a surprise, though you had heard through the chain line that there was a new mission brewing. It was the luck that came with having good connections in the Navy, not just because of your late father, but because you had also made quite a name for yourself in the past ten years.

You slip from the cherry red jeep that matches your nails and the short red and white polka-dotted dress swings against your thighs, barely covering your backside. You reach up to run your hands through your hair, effectively releasing the knots from the drive. Your keys swing on your finger as you make your way into the bar, and your eyes catch sight of an all too familiar bronco sitting in the lot.

You slip through the doors and the momentary blast of cool air is quickly ridden from you and exchanged for the overly stuffy heat in the overpacked bar. You catch a few eyes, service men that think you’re going to be their willing prey for the night. A small teasing smile rests on your lips and you may or may not innocently bat your eyes at them. Though you don’t stay in one place long enough for them to make a move towards you.

The simple, yet intimidating stride you take toward the bar has patrons moving out of your way and the click of your heels seems to gain the attention of the entire bar. You can feel the different sets of eyes watching you and though you used to mind all of the attention and shy away from it. Now you reveled in it, it came with the persona and built a sturdy barrier that no one was able to cross.

Your eye’s find Penny as she gives you a small smile, while you lean up against the bar top and give her a genuine smile. Penny had been in your life long before Top Gun when your parents were still alive, and she had essentially become the aunt you never had.

“God, Italy did you good.” Her eyes move up and down your form before she motions you to do a small turn, with her finger.

“Could have been the weather, culture, maybe the food.” Your hands rest on the bar, and you lean into her. “But it’s probably because of the men.”

She gives you a full laugh, with her head thrown back, before giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

“We missed you.” The words are muttered quietly and you give her a squeeze back in answer before she is pulling away and getting you a drink. The words make your gut twist and causes your heel to tap away. It wasn’t that you didn’t miss Penny and Amelia, it was just too hard being back. Driving down the street you once walked and seeing things that reminded you of everything you lost.

You can feel the stare as it burns a hole in the back of your head, and while you had only seen Rooster’s bronco, you were sure Hangman had gotten the call back as well. Your focus is taken from Penny as a figure slides up to the bar top next to you, their hand just barely ghosting against your waist, but enough to get you to turn around in question.

“You’re even prettier up close.”

Your eyes nearly see the back of your head as they roll, but you notice the khaki uniform and decide to play. Your hand falls to his that’s resting on the bar and a small giggle emits from your chest, as you give him a teasing smile.

He tells you his callsign and then explains that he’s a pilot, all while you maintain innocence and act completely oblivious to the military world. A glass slides into your hand, the amber liquid sloshing and you give Penny a quiet thank you, before winking.

“Put it on my tab, honey.”

Penny looks between the two of you, before giving the guy a smirk and a nod. You hid behind your glass, eyes peeking over the rim as you smile, then take a small sip of the whiskey. You would laugh at the poor guy and how he was completely oblivious to who you were, but the free drink was incentive enough to not spoil his night quite yet.

“So, you’re a fighter pilot,” Your voice is breathy, and the smile he gives you doesn’t hide the thoughts that are already racing through his mind. “Have you ever had to shoot anyone down?”

The question seems innocent enough and the gentle tilt of your head in wonder has the guy’s hand coming to rest at your hip.

“I’ve had many close calls, honey.” His hand slightly grabs at the material of your dress. “But there are only two active pilots with air-to-air kills.”

You hum in acknowledgment, which has him continuing as you take another drink. You tune out for a moment when you catch movement to the right of you, but you don’t risk the turn around to see who is making their way toward you. The use of your callsign has your attention on the pilot, and the look you give him has him repeating for you.

“Hangman and Cherry, only pilots that have air-to-air kills. Hangman’s got one under his belt, he’s actually a good friend of mine.” You almost laugh at the desperation seeping off him, you know damn well that he doesn’t know Jake and it’s only a last-stitched effort to get in your pants. “What about, Cherry?”

“She’s got two, lucky kills though.” The words make you glare slightly at the man, but he’s too consumed in himself to even notice. “She’s also the resident bitch of the Navy.”

You knew what people that didn’t know you, said about you. The name was no surprise, but that didn’t make you any less pissy at the term. Though before you can say something, the movement from your right comes into view and the smell of sandalwood consumes your senses.

A hand slips around your waist and effectively pushes the pilot’s hand from your hip. You breathe in the scent and your beating heart calms at the new presence. The familiarity has you leaning farther into the body, now encasing you to the bar. Your eye’s leave the pilot's face, who is already glaring to the side of you, and find a pair of deep blue eyes watching you.

“Hi, Bobby.”

You give him a delicate smile, one that very few people ever saw, before lifting your hand to adjust the frames that rest on the bridge of his nose. A gentle kiss is placed on your temple before Bob pulls away and looks at the pilot then back to you.

“What are you doing, Cher?”

“Just playing.”

The words are easy as they slip off your lips and have Bob laughing, while the other pilot stares at you in silence. He had witnessed you “play” with cocky pilots on more than one occasion and while it was all a game to you, he didn’t trust any pilot whose ego you bruised.

You grasp the glass of whiskey from the counter, noticing that Penny topped you off, before shooting it like a shot. Your eyes remain on the pilot, as a small dribble of the liquor falls from your lips. Bob moves without thinking, as his thumb swipes across your bottom lip to catch it. Though before he can pull away, your lips wrap around his thumb and suck the amber liquid right off.

The action makes Bob roll his eyes, over the seven-year friendship he had become used to your antics and knew you better than almost everyone. When you first meet the pair of you had become instant friends, about 4 months into the friendship on a drunken night, the pair of you had decided to see just how compatible you were. Neither of you could keep a straight face and the night of “debauchery,” turned into a night of horror moves cuddling after the ultimate failure of making out.

The pilot watches you in silent shock, as you pat his shoulder once and give him a smirk. Your form pushes off the bar, clutching Bobby’s hand and tugging him with you. Though before you can get far you turn back around, looking past Bobby’s smirking face to see the man not only stunned but mad. Just like those old cartoons, waiting for the steam to release from his ears.

“Oh, by the way, I’m Cherry. The resident bitch of the United States Navy.”

...

Bob pulls you forward and tugs you toward the bathroom hallway, before stopping in a corner. Your body settles against the wall, though Bob’s arms are quick to wrap around you and pull you into a tight hug. You clutch onto the back of his shirt and relax knowing that you wouldn’t be facing anything alone. Not tonight or during the next 6 weeks.

“When did you get back?”

The words are muffled against your neck, but you hear them clear as day.

“About 40 hours ago.” Your voice is teasing, though the small hitch at the end tells Bob just how tired you are.

“If you would have told me you were coming, we could have driven down together Cher.”

“I know.” You nod gently before your head falls back to rest against the wall. “I just needed the time. They say it gets easier with time, but every time I come back it feels like I’m still that little girl. Losing the only life I knew and getting shipped off to Texas. It wasn’t just my parents who died, the person I was, my life, died too.” A shuttered breath courses through your body, and your hand tightens around Bob's. The tightening in your throat only grows and has you pushing out a forced laugh, anything to change the current topic of interest. “Plus, Adams told me a little bit about the detachment and said that they might be here, which was correct according to the bronco sitting in the lot.”

“Yeah, I just had the pleasure of meeting them. Rooster doesn’t seem horrible and well Hangman, he’s just like you described.” Your eyes roll and any form of smile falls from your face. “Come on, Cher. It’s been ten years.”

Your hand reaches up to spin the pendant on your necklace, a nervous habit that you had picked up. Though your fingers are stilled, as Bob reaches up and grasps onto your hand bring it down to relax by your side.

“Ten years, that I’ve spent making sure that I am better than them in every way, Bobby.”

Your eyes move from Bob and settle on the wall opposite of you, at the flash of disappointment in his eyes. A deep sigh emits from his chest, and your head tips back to lean against the wall behind you, staring that the wood-beamed ceiling.

You hate disappointing Bob, he was like your big brother, but he also knew the full story and couldn’t blame you for the hate you still carried for the pair. The story of your callsign followed you around, it wasn’t like it died after leaving the academy. No, everywhere you went at least one guy brought your virginity.

“I’ll play nice, but the minute either of them say something,” a heavy sigh leaves your lips, and Bob's hand gently squeezes your hand in reassurance. Your head dips back down and your eyes sweep to his, to find only love and support. You give him a small squeeze back and a tiny smile, that was only for his comfort. Before vacantly muttering the words, “I will burn them to the fucking ground, Robert.”

A deep sigh leaves his chest, though before he can say anything you’re turning. You had enough of him playing the disappointed older brother and just wanted to have fun. You hadn’t seen him for 8 months and knew that the both of you had lots to catch up on.

A squeeze and a smirk are all you give him before you’re heading back down the hall and out into the bar. You can feel him trailing behind you, though you don’t slow. Your back straightens and the pace in your step quickens slightly, as you round the corner and catch sight of the all too familiar dirty blonde hair.

You make a bee-line for the pool tables, knowing that ripping off the band-aid would be far easier. Then standing around anxiously all night, waiting for one of them to show up. You side-stepping the guy from the bar, who had somehow magically found a home for the night at a table opposite of the pool tables. His hand reaches out again trying to grab at your sundress, and the small tug on it has you halting.

You pause momentarily still looking towards the pool tables and before you can turn around, your eyes find a pair of green ones. You both hold each other’s gaze and for a moment you think that you see a flash of pain and longing, but as quick as it appeared it disappears. You break the stare before anyone can notice and turn to be met with the smiling fool.

“Now sweetheart, it wasn’t very nice of you to run off like you did. Especially, since I bought you that drink.”

You glance down and find his hand at the hem of your dress, just barely grazing your thighs.

“Get your hands off of me, before I make you.”

The threat may appear minuscule, given the fact that you are all dolled up and in heels. Though the tone of your voice is anything but, and before Bob can move to remove the hand for you, you hold up one finger stopping him. The asshole only laughs at you, before standing and taking a step closer to you.

“Your callsign’s Cherry, right?”

A silent hum emits from your chest, and any patience you had are wearing extremely thin. Before you know it, a harsh hand smacks your ass. The sound echoes through the bar and you’re sure that you could have heard a dime drop. There’s movement behind you but you don’t pay them or Bob any mind, as said hand grasps onto your backside under your dress.

“Why don’t you refresh my memory of how you got your callsign.”

The words are barely past his lips before you lean back to throw a fist. It lands smack dab, in the middle of the asshole's face and the loud crack can only be presumed as his nose breaking. Bob is quick to step up between the group of friends as they make a move toward you, and distantly you can hear the ringing of a bell. Though your only focus is the asshole in front of you, who is now bent over clutching his nose as blood drips onto the hardwood floors.

Your dress sways as you move and you're positive that whoever is behind could easily see the thong under your dress if they really wanted. Your hair falls around your face as you lean into the man, getting as close as you can without actually touching him.

“You touch me again, and you’ll learn exactly how I got those two kills.”

You right your form and brush your dress down the side, before smiling back at Bob and holding out a single hand for him to grab.

“Come on Bobby, I feel like kicking your ass at pool tonight.”

A single shake of the head, followed by a deep sigh has Bob grabbing your hand as you pull him around the bloody mess. You easily spin around, to be met with a wall of khaki uniforms. You recognize three of the six faces, though the only ones you give a smile are the three unknown pilots and Javy. You can feel the way that their eyes burn into the side of your head, but you simply ignore them. Bobby asked you to play nice and you would until you couldn’t that is.

Your gaze settles on Javy, the only known pilot you were willing to make eye contact with. He gives you a small smile, which you return before you make your way to him.

“Coyote”

“Cherry”

Short, to the point, exactly what you needed right now. Your free hand raises to gently pat at his chest before you nod behind him. He side-steps for you, neither of you needing to tell the other where you wanted.

Pool was one of the many things that you and Jake shared a love for. Most of your childhood and teen years were spent in the Serein house playing pool and like Jake, Javy knew that pool was your go-to stress relief. It also helped that you were excellent at it and didn’t mind showing off.

The way he steps, if you could even call it a step, makes it so you have to squeeze past Jake and the cheeky grin that Coyote gives you tells you that he knows exactly what he’s doing.

You look back behind you to see Bob talking with the three other pilots you didn’t know, two guys and one girl. The three seemed decent enough, like people that you might eventually trust. You gently tug the hand resting in yours to gain his attention, and you give the three pilots another smile before you move for the pool tables.

The hole between Javy and Jake seems to have grown smaller in the last minute, and you catch slightly as you go to push passed them. Your eyes rest towards the floor and all you can see are a pair of fucking boots with a pool stick settled in between them. Your jaw clicks and you realize just how much Jake wants to push you. Your eyes slowly rise, moving passed the well-fitted uniform and ignoring just how much he hadn’t changed. Including that arrogant smirk, that your eyes stop on momentarily before finding his.

You can’t bring yourself to break eye contact, sure you had seen Jake from a distance in the last ten years. But now, seeing him up close, seeing the emerald eye’s that once held your heart, a deep thrumming ache settles in your chest. Either of you makes an effort to move your line of sight and you wonder, for a moment, if Jake was feeling the same feelings you were. If he missed his best friend, or if you truly were nothing more than something to play with when he was bored.

Bob’s hand gives yours a small squeeze and has you looking back at him breaking you from the trance between the pair of you. Jake hasn’t moved an inch, though neither has Javy.

A sigh falls from you, and you know that neither of them plan to move. Javy might have been your friend, but he was Jake’s best friend, and he would always choose Jake. Without a second thought, you slip between the pair of them, sliding sideway between the space and causing your chest to barely brush against Jake’s. Neither of your eyes leaves the other as you stare up at him, and the casual stance he takes makes your blood boil. He sinks back into his heels and watches you before his eyes trace up and down your form.

The low whistle he lets out fills you with disgust and your glare hardens in defense. His smirk widens slightly, one you knew wasn’t real or at least wasn’t real for your Jake, but your Jake had died in the locker room, and in his place stood, an empty, arrogant, jackass pilot.

The pool stick rests between the two of you, and Jake’s hand resting on it isn’t really holding on to it. Your own hand finds it as you move through the gap and rip it from Jake’s easily, a taunting smirk now making its way onto your lips.

Other than that, you don’t acknowledge him. Not a single word was muttered or an ounce of emotion shown. You knew that it would piss him off, you knew every single button to push to make Jacob Seresin mad. Just like he knew every one of your buttons, unfortunately.

...

You can hear Bob muttering curses at you as you bend over the pool table. The only thing standing between you and winning was the 8 ball and you were lined up perfectly. You call top left corner, lifting your eyes to watch Bob as you make the shot. The crack of the ball sinking in the pocket has you laughing and holding your hand out for the 20 he owned you.

“You know, you don’t have to be such a showoff all the time.” The comment is teasing as he slaps a 20 into your open palm and has you laughing.

“I seem to remember teaching you that little move, Cherry baby. As well as a few other things.”

The voice rings out and has you laugh halting, before turning around to glare at the blonde. Your eyes glance back at Bob and find him quietly standing by, just waiting. Neither of them had said anything to you all night. Not when you were officially introduced to the squad. Not as you, Phoenix, and Halo talked about being the only women called back. Not when you were left alone at the bar to get the next round of drinks.

It had been radio silence the whole time, each of them too busy in their own conversations. Though it seemed like your luck had officially run out. Your eyes shift from Bob to look at Hangman and the wink he gives you only furthers your annoyance. Your hip rests on the pool table and while the group had been preoccupied, the comment followed by Rooster laughing gained their attention.

The pair of them move closer to you, pushing you back till your nearly sitting on the pool table. Your unassumed gaze doesn’t change though and as you shove the 20 into your bra, you make a move to leave the pair. Though your actions are futile as Rooster catches your arm and pulls you back.

The action has Phoenix and Coyote moving for you, though it’s Bob that holds up a hand. Quietly telling them that the sooner this happened the better, the three of you were the only ones that could fix the current predicament. It wasn’t like Bob was leaving you to the wolves though. No, Bob knew just how much you could take and if you really needed the help, he would be the first one stepping in.

“Vague innuendos, how original of you Bagman.” Your eyes pass between the pair, before settling on Rooster. “I’m assuming you’re the bottom in the relationship, Chicken? Given the fact that you’ve only been able to glare at me and grab me.” Your hand rises to pry fingers from your forearm and a small chuckle leaves your chest. “Little weak there, honey. Might wanna start doing something to fix that or are you too busy being his bitch.”

Your head tilts in question as a mocking look of wonder graces your face. The glare Rooster gives you has you laughing lightly, overjoyed at how easily you can rile him up.

“I forgot how much of an annoying bitch you were, y/n.” The words drip with acid and at one point in time would have hurt you. The girl they knew, would have been devastated, but that wasn’t you anymore. Jake wasn’t the only one that died in that locker room ten years ago.

“Oh, thank you.” A small smile rises on your lips before your hand gently reaches out to rest on Rooster’s chest. You push up from your position on the pool table and step even closer to the pair. “I hope you sincerely mean that because then I know I’m successfully making your life a living hell.”

You go to push through the pair again, hoping to see if Bob wants to go home. You had more than enough socializing and needed to be ready for tomorrow. From tomorrow on, the mission would hold the most importance in your life. You would be flying this mission, you had to.

You don’t get far from the pair, just barely passed them when Jake’s voice rings out. “You need to get over it, Cherry. One of us is going to be mission leader,” his hand gestures between Rooster and himself. “and you’ll fall in line willingly or well...” a shrug of his shoulder says it all and you can’t stop yourself.

Your feet are moving you back to the pair before you can think it through and you see Bob move for you, but you're already right back where the pair want you. You shouldn’t let them rile you up, that was your game, but the sublet threat didn’t sit well with you.

“Understand this,” Your voice had yet to be harsh, till now. “If anyone is going to be mission leader, it’s me. You’re both welcome to challenge me, but you will lose and I will fucking enjoy watching you burn in.”

You leave before anyone can say anything, no longer caring if Bob was coming with you or not. You needed to get out of the damn bar and as far away from them as possible. Tears threaten to break as you get outside and only when you are safely in your jeep do you allow your tears to fall.

#callsign cherry 🍒#jake seresin #bradley bradshaw #jake seresin x reader #bradley ‘rooster’ bradshaw #jake 'hangman' seresin #bradley bradshaw x reader #top gun: maverick #top gun maverick #tgm imagine #tgm fic #tgm #gingy writes

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eternalsams · 7 months

Text

Cherry Pie ⇴ J.Seresin

pairing: Jake Seresin x fem!reader

content/warning: 18+, smut, fwb situation, swearing, alcohol consumption, boys will be boys, 'love' confession, just a bit of angst, no use of Y/N, pet names like "honey" or "sweets", COMMUNICATION IS KEY.

summary: You just moved in San Diego and you needed help with all the boxes and furniture. Naturally, you called Jake to give you a hand and that's it, right?

words count: 2.0k

notes: this is my contribution to @roosterforme's Rocktober playlist, just as asked, the fic is inspired by the song but you don't need to know it to read this, obviously... Also, English isn't my first language so please take that into your consideration. (I've spent the whole day writing this because I knew I'd never get it done before the end of October)

ITALICS ARE FLASHBACKS

masterlist

"Oh, by the way, didn't you tell us one of your friends just moved here?" Rooster said as his eyes were fixed on the pool table where they were playing. Jake scoffed and sighed, trying to suppress the smile creeping up on his lips. "Oh yeah, you said that! What was her name again?" Fanboy pointed out with a light smirk. Jake was about to answer him when Payback clapped his hand on his shoulder, stopping him on his track. "Bagman's got a female friend? I don't believe it!" He laughed loudly. "I do have a female friend, I'm not that big of an jerk." Jake got up and slapped his hand flat on the table.

"We're still friends, huh?" You asked as his lips made their way down the column of your neck. Another moan escaped your lips as you felt his teeth nibble at the sensitive skin. "Yeah, yeah... Still friends." He muttered before slipping his hands under your thighs and wrapping your legs around his waist. His lips found yours once again and he didn't wait another second before slipping his tongue between your lips and tasting you. "I called you so you could help me unpack." You scolded him as your hands grabbed the hem of his shirt and in one movement, the garment was on the floor of your new kitchen. "Oh, sure, sure... Let me just...unwrap this first." He said as he unzipped your jeans and slid them down your thighs, revealing your lace panties. You chuckled and he put you up the counter before kneeling down in front of you, between your parted legs. He started kissing your left ankle, then your calf and he pecked kisses up your thigh until he reached your soaking underwear. "You're so pretty, why did I wait this long?" He murmured, mouthing at your clothed core. "Fuck..." You moaned as you hooked your legs around his head. Your fingers gripped his hair tight as he slipped your panties to the side and he licked your wet folds before wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking, hard.

Everyone looked at Jake with raised eyebrows, not believing a single one of his words. Rooster was the first one to crack up and laugh. "Yeah, right. And I'm the frickin' Queen of England." Jake groaned and looked away, trying to hold himself back from punching his wingman in the face. "Excuse us for not believing you, but we only know you as a ladies' man. In front of 'womanizer' in a dictionary, there's your picture, man." Javy chuckled before taking a sip of his drink and adding something. "Also, shouldn't I know about her if she's as dear as you say?" Jake sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, glancing at the front doors another time, checking if you've arrived. "She's from my home town, we met in college and she just accepted a very nice job here. She's not here for me, she's here for work, we're just lucky we're in the same area for once since college." He cleared his throat and checked his phone for any signs of you. "Sounds like a romantic tragedy." Phoenix commented, noticing the longing look on his face as he checked his texts. "No, we're not like that. We're friends, remember? Just friends."

"To friends. And to a new life in California." You said as you held your glass of champagne high. "To all of that." Jake chuckled before taking a sip of the alcohol, not breaking the eye contact with you. You just finished unpacking everything for your living room. You still needed to finish your room and the bathroom but the biggest part was done. "Oh, wait!" You put down your glass and went to the kitchen, getting a little basket of fresh cherries. You took two peers and gently put them in both your glasses, turning the simple champagne into fancy home-made cocktails. "Champagne with cherries? That's weird." Jake laughed and grabbed his cherries before putting one in his mouth, pulling on the stem to detach it. "Maybe, but it's really good." You chuckled and did the same, staring into his eyes. "It shouldn't surprise me that the first things you have in your fridge are cherries. You've always loved them." He spat back the cherry stone and took a sip of his drink.

"You wanna see something cool?" You asked and he simply nodded, eating his second cherry. You grabbed his stem and pulled on it before putting it on your tongue and closing your mouth. Jake watched you carefully, mesmerized by you. You then grinned and pushed the, now knotted, stem between your teeth. "Holy shit..." Jake scoffed, grabbing the stem but you bit down on it to keep it in your mouth. His gaze went up to your eyes and he saw that special spark in them. He delicately removed the stem from your mouth and traced your lips with his thumb before slowly pushing it between them. Your tongue gently licked his finger and you took a bit more of it in your mouth, sucking softly. "Shit, honey..." Jake rasped. He then felt your tongue circle his thumb before you sucked a bit more and he could feel his cock harden in his pants. He adjusted himself in his seat and you chuckled, releasing his thumb and gently kissing the pulp of it. Jake moistened his lips and wrapped his hand around your neck to draw you closer to him. He crashed his lips on yours and immediately parted your lips to slide his tongue in your mouth. He could taste the cherry on your tongue and swore he could never get tired of your taste.

"Hey Penny Dear, could you get a Cherry Bomb ready for my friend. She's gonna be there soon. Put it on my tab." He softly tapped the counter before turning to the front doors. He couldn't wait to see you walk past those doors, as if he didn't see you the night before. As if he didn't feel your walls flutter around him as he brought you to your fourth climax of the night. He snapped back to reality when a hand landed on his shoulder. Javy sighed next to him and followed his gaze to the doors. "So... You're gonna tell me when you're gonna ask that girl out?" He then took a sip of his beer. "Never, it's not like that." Jake grumbled as his phone vibrated in his pocket. "Oh, I can see that it is". He chuckled without noticing Jake wasn't listening anymore. The blond pilot was frenetically typing on his phone, answering your text and telling you where to find him in the bar. The next thing he heard was the front door opening and your heels clicking on the floor. He raised his head and grinned when he caught your gaze through the crowd. He stuffed his phone in his pocket and made his way to you. "Not like that, my ass." Javy scoffed and gave back his empty beer to Penny who thanked him and went to another patron.

"You made it!" Jake exclaimed as he approached you. "I made it!" You laughed and hugged him tight. "Come on, I ordered your favorite already." He kissed the top of your head and led you to the counter where Penny introduced herself and gave you your drink with a wink. Not so far, Phoenix and Rooster were watching you both with frowns. "Are they dating? They look like they're dating." The woman asked her friend. "I don't know if they're official but they definitely like each other." They both straightened up when they saw you walking to them, Jake's arm around you and leading you. The pilot introduced you and you shook hands with all of them. "We've heard a lot about you." The man called Payback smiled at you and you grinned widely. "Jake talks about me?" You chuckled and turned to your friend who winced. "But we didn't believe him when he said he had a female friend." Fanboy chuckled as he scratched the back of his neck. "A bit of a ladies' man, isn't he?" You laughed, giving a light slap to Jake's ass who then glared down at you. You chuckled a bit more and took a sip of your drink, the cherry flavor invading your taste buds. You grabbed the cherry on top and bit it, detaching the stem and keeping it in your hand.

The conversation went on and when you stood up, calling for a bathroom break, Jake only noticed now the knotted stem in your empty glass. He picked it up and made it twirl between his fingers. "She did that?" Javy scoffed, looking at the stem in his friend's hand. "Yup. With her tongue." Jake chuckled slightly before dropping the stem back in your glass. "Come on, man. I know you said you're not dating but the tension between you is too strong for friends. Are you hooking up with her?" Rooster leaned over the table as he lowered his voice a bit. "I am not. We're friends and that's it. She's just like that, all clingy and shit. Always have been." Jake gave his friends a little smile before he felt a hand on his shoulder. "I'm a bit tired from work, I'm going home sooner than expected." Your voice surprised him and he hoped you hadn't heard what he said just before. Because if one of you was clingy, it was certainly him. "Do you want me to walk you back to your car?" He asked, standing up. "I'd love to." You smiled at him and said bye to everyone before you waited for Jake to pay his tab and join you outside.

When he passed the doors, you wrapped your arm around his and you two walked silently. "Can I ask you a question?" You asked hesitantly. "Always. Tell me." Jake's other hand stroked your arm soothingly. "Are you ashamed of our...relationship? I heard what you said and I didn't really like it." Jake slightly winced at your words and as he thought you would let his arm go, you didn't do such. You kept him as close as before. "I'm not...ashamed. They just... They spent the whole afternoon teasing me about you, asking if we were dating and talking badly of me. I just wanted to shut them up." He tried to explain and you stayed silent, that wasn't really you. "Are you mad?" He then asked when he saw your car in the parking lot, scared you might leave without giving him a second glance. "I'm not. They're your friends, you know how to handle them. I believe you when you say you're not ashamed of me." You squeezed yourself against his arm. "How could I ever be ashamed of you, Sweets? You're amazing, honestly you're the best thing that's ever happened to me." You laughed at his words and dug into your purse to grab your car key. "The best thing, huh?" You smirked and looked up at him. "The best of the best." He nodded, sliding his hands on your waist. "Then you wouldn't mind picking me up tomorrow at seven? I saw a nice restaurant I wanted to try with you." He was surprised of your boldness but didn't complain. "Like...like a date?" He asked for confirmation and you smiled a bit more. "Like a date." He quickly looked away to hide his excitement but you noticed his blushing cheeks. "I wouldn't mind at all picking you up and taking you on a date. Would you allow me to kiss you before I let you go home?" He lowered his voice, as if he was scared someone else might hear how sweet and loving he was for you. You nodded eagerly and grabbed him by the neck before colliding your lips with his and swiping your tongue over his lips. And just as always, he could taste the cherry on your tongue and he loved every bit of it.

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sometimesanalice · 1 year

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Give Me Your Hand {Here Is My Heart}

Summary: You’ve spent a lot of time thinking about what it would be like to be in Bradley Bradshaw’s bed, and now you finally get to find out. (Spoiler: It’s even better than you could have ever imagined.)

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 8K+

Warnings: so much smut with a side of fluff (Minors DNI)

(This is a 2-Part series for the “Like I Can” Universe. However, it can be read on its own!) Read Part 1 here!

“Well, are you coming?”

You are two lace trimmed bits of cotton away from being naked, and you can feel his heated gaze traveling over your body as you walk towards his stairs with a teasing sway of your hips.

If you had known you were going to end your night shimmying down your little red dress in front of Bradley, you might have tried to wear something a bit more underneath it, just for him.

But there was no missing the intensity and the desire that was in his eyes as he had watched you strip before him. It was more than clear that liked what he saw.

The appreciative way Bradley was looking at you made your everyday underwear feel sexier than La Perla ever could.

You don’t get very far before your whole world tilts as you’re lifted off the ground and tossed over his broad shoulder.

“Oh my god, Bradley! Warn a girl.” The sound coming out of you part gasp, part laugh.

“Heads up, kid.” There is no missing the smug smile in his voice, as he grips you a little tighter.

You’re dangling behind him trying to support yourself on his lower back, a useless endeavor since every step he takes up the stairs only serves to make you lose your grasp.

“Are you sure you got a strong enough hold on my ass there, Bradshaw?” you complain flippantly.

You wiggle a little trying to alleviate some of the pressure on your stomach.

“Stop trying to distract me,” he grunts, digging his fingertips further into the fleshy muscle in a way you didn’t mind at all. “I’m carrying some precious cargo.”

He tops off the end of his sentence with a light swat of his hand on your other cheek like he would a cherry on a sundae. And you have to bite your lip to keep from making the noise that was trying to crawl it’s way out of your throat, one that would give away just how much you liked his strong hands on your ass.

Bradley stops at the first door on the left and bends a little as he eases you off his shoulder. You lean back against the wall watching self-indulgently as he straightens up in front of you.

There is nothing subtle about Bradley Bradshaw. Not the commanding way he enters a room. Not the force of his energetic smile. Not the powerful build of his body. And definitely not the way he is checking you out.

It’s your first time being up here, there’s never been a reason to come upstairs before. You can’t help but wonder if the spaces here have the same sense of functional practicality as his downstairs does. Everything has a purpose, but nothing has much of a personality.

And Bradley has the best personality.

Maybe if you ask nicely he will let you help him pick out some things to make his place feel more like a home. More like him.

Reaching out you thread a finger through one of his belt loops and tug him closer to you. Bradley grins as he comes to crowd you against the wall before leaning in to kiss you, his warm hands coming up to frame your face.

For the other men you’ve dated in the past, kissing was a means to an end. A mandatory part of foreplay to perform in order to speed things along. But with Bradley, he kisses you with a type of single-minded determinedness that always sends your heart racing.

He has never been the type to do anything half-heartedly. Kissing is the agenda. It is the main course. He is happy to take his time to savor the taste and feel of you. He’s not thinking about how quickly he can move on to the next thing. He kisses you like he couldn’t dream of doing anything else.

You have never felt so entirely treasured in your life as you do right now outside of his bedroom in his arms.

It’s hard to fight back the smile that makes it impossible for him to keep his lips on yours, and when he pulls back the look on his face is nothing short than pure fondness.

“I’m excited to have you like this,” you admit to him, soft and sure.

It would be a new first, a new moment, a new memory. His and yours alone.

“Yeah?” he asks with a gentle smile quirked to one side. “I am too.” He settles his hands on your hips, his thumbs skimming over the skin at right above the waistband of your panties. “We go at your speed, sweet girl. As much or as little as you want. Whatever you want is what I want too.”

“And if I want everything?”

“Then I’ll give you everything,” he promises, pulling you close to get his mouth on yours again. You could taste the unspoken always in his kiss.

There was still a small part of you that was nervous about what feelings could come up in the after, the worry that bittersweet what-ifs could color all of your perfect memories with him. But you were done with not letting yourself have everything you want with him.

And with one more indulgent kiss to his lips, you take his hand and lead the way into his bedroom.

Bradley lingers near the door as he watches you take in his bedroom. One could call it snooping, but he knew you’d have some other smart-assed term for it.

He had been able to tell that something was on your mind for a while. And the last thing he wanted to do was put pressure on this new thing between the two of you by making you talk about it before you were ready.

You had always been in his life, but when you moved to San Diego after living separate lives for over fifteen years, he couldn’t deny that it felt different being around you again. In a good way, in the best way.

And those terrible dates you went on had made him come to terms with his feelings much earlier than you. Bradley knew exactly what he wanted with you, and he would give you all the time you needed to get there too.

He is amused, but not surprised, when the first thing you do is go to investigate is his bookshelf. Your fingers skimming the spines as you read over the titles.

It’s mainly a collection of NATOPS manuals he’s memorized inside and out from the aircrafts he’s been trained to use and other technical handbooks, along with his old collection of the Hardy Boys, a few political biographies and mystery novels he hasn’t had the chance to read yet.

He had felt like such an idiot when he made that joke about sleeping with the enemy in your car on the way to the surprise movie date you had planned for him. He hadn’t missed the way your body had tensed up. Or how you would always pull back and stumble over some flimsy reason why you had to call it a night when things would get on the exciting side of too heated or too physical.

He knew that you would come around to telling him what was holding you back on your own time, he just didn’t expect it to be after you had come in his lap from rubbing yourself on him in that sinful dress of yours.

The one that taunted and tempted him from the second he had opened his door that night. The one now a heap somewhere on the floor of his living room.

“So why do men love bitches, Bradley?” The question shakes him from his musings.

You turn to him with a mischievous smile painted on your pretty face as you gleefully show off the book that he had completely forgotten about like you have hit the jackpot.

“How do I still have that?” He huffs a laugh crossing towards you, leaning on hip on his desk to get a closer look. “Nat give it to me after I broke up with my ex a few years ago, they never got along. She even drew some red flags on the paper she wrapped it in when she gave it to me.”

“Ah, that explains the inscription. ‘Know the playbook, so you don’t get played again.’” you read with a snort. “For what it’s worth, I never liked Paige either. She was always seemed like such a shit-stirrer. Good thing you came to your senses. He’s pretty and smart, folks.” You send him a playful little wink before you go back to your investigation of his room.

It’s not even a contest, you are his absolute favorite person in this world.

And you look so perfect, so real in your nude bra and white panties in his bedroom. He likes that this wasn’t planned, that he gets to have you so authentically. He wants you just as you are.

Rubbing the back of his neck, he can’t help but wonder a little self-consciously what his space must look like to you through your eyes as you wander around.

His room is a mismatched collection of furniture that people have passed along to him over the years. Stuff that others didn’t need or that they upgraded from to something newer and better. Everything else that wasn’t donated to him were easily assembled things from IKEA.

He didn’t mind it in here, but he’s also never particularly liked it. It’s always just been a place to sleep.

He has his sturdy wood bed frame against one wall, it creaks sometimes when he turns over but he that’s what he got for putting it together after a few of beers. There is large print hung above it so the wall wasn’t totally bare. Next to his bookcase was a desk and small filing cabinet. He has a spare room in his condo that he has been meaning to turn into an office, but this set up was familiar to him after so many years of living in the barracks.

But if you were going to be here with him, Bradley wanted you to be comfortable in his home. Maybe he could find a few new things for the room to make it nicer, cozier for you with stuff that wasn’t other peoples’ cast offs.

There was only one nightstand for fuck’s sake, which is where he watches you linger in front of now.

“Wait, Bradley. Is this…” you trail off, picking up the framed sheet music from his nightstand. Your finger traces over the upper righthand corner in the exact spot where he knows three vibrant blazing fireballs decorate the page.

Hand-drawn by a ten-year-old you.

They were overly cartoonish in the way that most kids’ drawings were at that age. But it was obvious you had spent time on it for him by the way the reds, oranges, and yellows of your colored penciled artwork had been perfectly blended.

“Yeah.” He has to clear his throat, “Yeah, it is.”

“I can’t believe you still have this,” you say quietly.

You had given him the book of sheet music that included his favorite crowd-pleasing song to play on the piano for his twelfth birthday. He had had the notes memorized for almost a decade before he had put it in a frame, he had wanted to have this reminder of home with him instead of sitting in a box somewhere.

Other than the mounted toy fighter jet his mom had given him, it was the only thing that he had always taken with him as he moved around the world from base to base.

He thought he had seen every expression that’s ever crossed your face, but you have never looked at him like quite like this before. Your face is filled with such tenderness and something he can’t quite put his finger on.

“Well, you know what Marie Kondo says about things that sparks joy,” he jokes light-heartedly, trying to find his footing again.

“Is there anything else in here that sparks joy in here?” You put the frame back down, observing him with your head tilted to the side as you sat on his bed and leaned back on your hands. It did amazing things to your chest.

“I can think of one or two things,” he says, playing along. You look so perfect in his bed, it was going to feel too big without you in it now.

“Are you going to come join me? Or do you just want to keep on checking out my breasts from over there?” you ask teasingly, pushing yourself back further on top of his bed. Your feet are resting on the edge, knees knocked together swaying enticingly from side to side.

You are easily the prettiest thing in his room.

Bradley takes his time as he saunters over to come join you at the bed. But when he comes to stand at the edge of the mattress, you stop him with a dainty foot to his chest.

“That’s bold of you to assume you this is a clothing permitted establishment,” you say popping up onto your elbows, applying a bit more force to where you’re pressing into him.

“Is that so?” he hums. Wrapping his hand around your ankle, he lets his thumb circle over the rounded joint there. “You know you’re in my room, in my bed, right?”

“Mm-hmm. I’m very aware. I like how it smells like you in here.” He watches as your hand makes indistinguishable shapes on the top of his linen duvet, “I’ve got to say, I’m pretty sure I’ve the best view in the house right now.”

He rakes his eyes over your figure, “Hm, think we’ll have to agree to disagree on that one.”

“You might be right,” you tell him cheekily, “My view could be so much better if you’d take some clothes off.”

“You sayin’ you want a show, kid?”

“I wouldn’t say no to one, if you are offering,” you say stretching like a satisfied cat. And there are those dimples of yours. If only you knew how just how gone he was for them.

“I can give you a show.” His voice is whiskey smooth as he squeezes your ankle.

Bradley holds your hot, greedy gaze as he removes his watch and sets it down on the nightstand. The way he undoes the buttons on his shirt could almost be called lazy if it weren’t for the purposeful way he watched your every shallow breath, as he listened to your unsteady exhales.

He has to tap on your foot to remind you to lift it off of his chest so that he can take his shirt off. You rest that foot high on his thigh instead, dangerously close to his quickly hardening cock. And then he is tugging his shirt off and tossing it somewhere behind him.

The fabric of his comforter is clenched tight beneath your fists.

Reaching behind his neck he grasps the collar of his tank, pulling it over his head in one smooth motion making sure that his biceps and abs are flexed for your benefit. If you wanted something to look at, he was going to give you an eyeful.

He lets out a satisfied sound as lets his hand indulgently, leisurely trail down his chest, down his abdomen as he watches you steadily. There is no reason for him to hold back his proud smirk when sees the way your lips part as he reaches the top of his jeans.

“How am I doing?” he drawls knowingly.

Your eyes are glued to his hand as he languidly unbuckles his belt.

“Good. Yeah, very good.” He sees the way you swallow hard as he begins to pull it out from his belt loops. The thick tension building between the two of you has his pulse pounding.

He likes the desire he sees reflected in your eyes as you take him in, “I’d leave you at least four-stars on Yelp.”

Bradley lets his belt fall to the floor, it lands with a satisfying clunk. Your eyes fly to his at the sound.

“Mm, only four-stars? Such a tough critic,” he muses lightly as he casually runs his finger up and down your calf. “What’s a guy gotta do to get five?”

You’re devouring him with your eyes and he wants to take over the way you’re nibbling on your lower lip with his teeth. “Drop the denim, Bradshaw.”

“You’re right, it’s only fair,” he concedes, admiring the way your nipples are raised against the cups of your bra. He teases a finger under the black elastic band that is peeking out from over the top of his favorite jeans, “I’m telling you now that what’s under these isn’t anywhere as pretty as what you’ve got on.”

“I think I’ll be the judge of that, thank you very much,” you say as primly as possible given how affected you are, pressing your foot harder into the muscle of his thigh. “Plus, I think you’re plenty pretty.”

God, he loves that he gets to have you like this.

That even when you’re both half naked and riled up you can still banter with each other. That he can still make you smile and you can still make him laugh all while the undercurrent of need pulses around you.

“Bradley, come on.” The hint of whine that accompanies the way you say his name goes straight to his cock. He wouldn’t mind hearing you beg sweetly for him sometime, but not tonight.

He was going to give you whatever you wanted.

“Patience, sweet girl. I’m putting on a show here, remember?” he tells you with a playful grin as he bends over your body to kiss you deeply. Your legs part for him and come up to hug his hips. When he pulls away after a few moments you move to sit up, chasing the feeling of his mouth on yours. But he puts a hand to your sternum pressing you back down onto his bed with his fingertips before standing up to his full height above you.

The silence in the room is deafening as he unbuttons the top of his jeans. And then he is slowly pulling his zipper down for you.

Your heart is hammering as Bradley peels off those form-fitting jeans of his strong legs.

His body is a work of art. You could stare for hours and still find something new to admire. From the rounded definition of his shoulders, the smattering of chest hair between his full pectorals, the ridges and valleys of his abs, to the v-shaped muscles that lead your eyes directly to the outline of his hard, thick cock that you’re getting an up-close look at for the first time.

It looks as good as the rest of him does.

“Good god,” you groan, covering your eyes. “Honestly, Bradley?” The sound of his deep, warm chuckle has you pulling your hands away from your face, he is clearly amused by your reaction. “Be serious with me right now, that is totally how you got your callsign, isn’t it?” Gesturing to his sizable cock with a wave of your hand.

“I’ve told you that story before,” he tells you as he climbs on the bed and settles next to you.

“You’ve told me a story, but I’ve never believed it.” You turn on your side to fully face him, throwing one of your legs over him as nonchalantly as possible, as if it was totally normal to be half-naked in his bed with him. “‘I was just the only morning person on my squad’,” you say lowering your voice mimic his, “I don’t buy it. Not to mention, Natasha always made a face whenever you told that version to someone who was flirting with you.”

“Fine, you really wanna know?” he asks as he squeezes your hip. His cheeks are already lightly flushed, and now you’re downright giddy about this new development. It’s not often you get to see him so bashful around you.

“I knew you were withholding important information from me, Rooster,” you trill.

He grunts something unintelligible before he has you gasping when he grips your thigh and rolls over, pinning you underneath him.

And oh. You like the feel of him pressed against you.

There is something comforting about the weight of his hard, sunkissed body as he relaxes more fully on you. It wasn’t like you didn’t know he was built but the sheer sturdiness of him and how he fits with you like this is so good it’s dizzying.

He really is so handsome. With his face this close to yours, you can see every shade of brown in his pretty eyes. You bring a hand up to his face, letting your fingers brush over the coarse hairs of his mustache.

“Don’t think that just because you manhandled me, that you’re off the hook here. I’m not so easily distracted.” It’s a lie, but you think you pull it off well.

“Ok, ok,” he relents, kissing your fingertips then guiding your hand around to the base of his neck. “There are usually two versions of the story that pilots will tell, the one that makes them look good and the one that actually happened. But most pilots get their callsign from doing something stupid or screwing something up.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” you say with a teasing grin. “Which category do you fall in?”

“Believe it or not, both,” he admits ruefully. A small boyish smile on his face.

“Oh, I believe it,” you beamed.

“So,” he continues, with a fond shake of his head, “There was a girl I used to hook up with in my squadron. We had a friends with benefits type thing for a while when we were first deployed.” That made you scrunch you nose, he chuckles leaning in to kiss your cheek. “But she was always, uh, loud. Especially when I would go down on her.” He says that last part in a rush, almost like he is trying to gloss over it.

It wasn’t a secret to you that Bradley had gotten around, you had heard the whispers when you visited him at UVA and in the bathroom at the Hard Deck when you had first moved here. And it wasn’t like you had been sitting on your couch knitting like some Jane Austen spinster, you have had your fun too.

“Mmm-hmm.” You stroke his leg with your foot encouraging him to continue.

He is entirely adorable in the way he full-blown blushing now as he tries so hard not to fidget, even as his fingers idly play with the strap of your bra.

“We were fooling around early one morning after she has stayed over. Which I am sure you can guess, that kind of socializing was very much frowned upon,” he allows with a sheepish dip of his head. “As it turned out, one of the Petty Officers decided to do a surprise barracks inspection that morning. And, uh, well, we didn’t hear his arrival and the announcement or any of the noise in the hallway-”

“Because you’re good with your mouth,” you gleefully interject.

“You said it not me, kid,” he says nudging your cheek with his nose. You are grinning so wide now because he is getting so flustered as his story goes on. “So fast forward to us getting caught in the act. They let her run back to her own barrack, but I had to stand there at attention for the whole inspection in my boxer briefs with a hard-on.

The mental image of that was equal parts amusing and appealing, especially after the show he just gave you.

“And since my clothes were still on the ground from the night before, I got an auto-fail for having gear adrift. They even called in some of the guys from my unit to double check the inspection results and make an example out of my, um, indiscretion. After that, well, Rooster stuck.”

“I knew it!” you hoot before bursting into a fit of laughter. “I knew there had to be an X-rated reason, you dirty bird. Oh my god, Bradley! No wonder why Nat can’t keep a straight face.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he chuckles good-naturedly, his eyes crinkling in the corner. “There you have it, that’s the whole story. And just so you know, it is literally on the record that I was an early riser when I got written up for it. So technically that part is true.”

“In more ways than one,” you titter with a lewd wiggle of your eyebrows.

He looks up to the ceiling and groans, “How long are you going to tease me about this, kid?”

You make a big show about doing the math in your head until he nips at your collarbone.

“Probably for as long as you’ve had your callsign, I’ve got a few years to catch up on. It’s only fair since you lied to me, your best friend, for so long. I’m wounded,” you lament unconvincingly.

“I had an image as a responsible adult to maintain.” That makes you snort as you wrap both of your arms around his neck pulling him closer to you.

You half-heartedly roll your eyes, “I’m only two years younger than you.”

“Mm, that makes you the baby here,” he hums against your neck. “Wasn’t gonna give you the full version back then, not when you had such impressionable ears.”

His body is so warm, so solid against yours. And his thigh is pressing into the center of you. You’re surprised how quickly he can go from making you laugh to making you squirm.

“You know what I don’t get?” you muse tugging on his curls.

He runs mustache along your neck, “Enlighten me.”

“Why would they punish you when they could have just made you pose for the cover of a Navy pamphlet? Seems a little shortsighted, if you ask me,” you quip, a bit breathlessly. “I mean, they’d be turning down new recruits left and right. Everyone would be so inspired to serve their country. Propaganda with a side of eye candy.”

Bradley pinches your waist, making you yelp and rock against him. He sucks in a sharp breath at the contact. The mood shifting instantly from playful into something else entirely.

“You like what you see, huh?” He shifts his weight into his arms, lifting up a bit. Not only do you have a stellar view of his abs now, but also of his defined biceps by your head.

“Are you fishing for compliments, Rooster?” You glide your fingers along the crests of his ribs.

“I don’t mind getting my ego stroked every now and then.”

“What about other things?” you murmur, sliding your hand in between your bodies to grasp him through his boxer briefs.

He groans your name before claiming your mouth for a hot kiss.

“Come on, Bradley. I want the full experience,” you pant against his lips, “I heard how the girls talked about you.”

“I’ve learned a few more things since then,” he rasps, grinding himself more fully against you.

“Good, I’d hope so. Now, show me.”

Show me. Show me. Show me.

He can’t keep his mouth or hands in one place for too long. He wants to taste you everywhere. He wants to touch you everywhere.

You are looking at him with such open want. Your pupils blown wide, your lips kiss-swollen. He was unprepared for just how perfect your body would feel under his. You’re so beautiful spread out before him on his bed. Green might be his favorite color on you, he was biased, but you looked stunning pillowed against his navy duvet.

He had told you he’d give you anything you wanted and he meant it. If you wanted the full experience then he was going to give you the best damn time of your life.

Bradley licks his lips before lowering his head back down for a kiss, moaning at the slide of your wet, soft lips against his. He loves the sound your needy whine as you cant your hips against him.

You tilt your neck to the side giving him more room to get his mouth on the delicate column of your throat. The smell of your perfume and shampoo makes his blood thrum in his veins. He doesn’t think he’s ever been this desperate for someone in his life as he is for you.

He slips his hand around your ribcage and under you, groaning when your breasts rub against his chest as you arch into him. He runs his fingers along the band of your bra feeling for the little clasps that are preventing you from being bared before him.

After the third pass he makes, you pull away from his mouth with a little grin, “Bradley, it’s a front clasp”. Taking pity on him you guide his hand to the shiny little closure resting in the valley between your breasts.

He chuckles self-deprecatingly toying with it for a second before asking, “You mean to tell me this is both pretty and functional?”

Your giggle turns into a whimper when he flicks it open and pulls it off of you. Tossing it somewhere to be discovered later.

And then his is finally, finally getting to see you in the way he’s spent many nights with his hand wrapped around his cock imagining.

“How are you so soft everywhere?” he murmurs tracing a finger down your bare sternum. He rubs his mustache over the sensitive tips of your pebbled nipples before claiming one with his mouth.

Your hands fly to his hair as he sucks and teases this newly uncovered part of you. He moans as you start grinding against him in earnest before switching over to the other, his hand coming up to cup and squeeze the taut bud that was wet and shiny from his mouth.

The sounds you are making are nothing like he has ever heard from you before. And he can’t wait to spend hours with your body learning all the things that make you whimper and whine and sigh.

With one more flick of his tongue against your nipple, he trails hungry kisses down your neck. He stops once to admire the little freckle high on your right ribcage before continuing his way down your body. He likes how easily your legs fall open for him as he settles himself at the center of you. At how much trust you are handing over to him.

“You still doing good, sweet girl?” he asks into the crease of your thigh.

“So, so good,” you exhale roughly. One of your hands is skimming along the skin of his shoulders, your delicate finger stroking over the scar there. “Five-stars, Bradley. Easily.”

“Mm, you sure I deserve that? Haven’t done anything to earn it,” he hums, teasing kisses along the lace edge of your white panties. “Haven’t even made you come yet.”

“Bradley.”

“Can I take these off and make you come with my mouth?” He slides a finger under the elastic band. “Can I earn that five-stars?”

“Yes, yes,” you nod rapidly, “I want that.”

Bradley slides his thumbs under the sides of your perfectly practical panties and starts to pull the last of your clothing off. He’s dreamt about you naked and on display for him, he is eager to discover every freckle, every mole, every scar on you.

You are almost revealed to him when he stops. His eyes snag on a spot on the inside of your right hipbone. A tattoo.

The tattoo.

He remembers the night at the Hard Deck when he had learned about its existence with picture perfect clarity.

Fanboy had been showing off the fresh ink on his forearm for the full sleeve he was in the process of getting, which had then turned into display of skin as his friends pulled up and rolled up their clothes to share their own. It was probably for the best that he had an aversion to needles or else he probably could have ended up with some misspelled Latin phrase like Payback had along his forearm.

Just as Hangman had finished tugging his shirt back down, he had turned towards you at the tall stool you were sitting on and asked, “What about you, darlin’? Anything to share with the class?”

There was gleam in his eye that Bradley had not appreciated in the slightest. Especially since he had made it perfectly clear that his best friend was off limits to the group of cocky aviators.

You had only relocated to San Diego a couple of months ago, and he hadn’t realized how much he had missed living in the same area as you. And you were already fitting in with everyone like you’d been there for years.

“Yeah, I’ve got one,” you shrugged taking a sip of your drink while he nearly choked on his.

“What? No, you don’t,” he asserted as he elbowed Hangman out of the spot he was leaning on next to you.

“Uh, yeah, I definitely do.”

He didn’t get why you were looking at him like he had a second head. You were his best friend, that’s something that definitely would have come up in conversation at some point if you did have one. Right?

“I’ve never seen one on you,” he’d said adamantly.

He eyes quickly traveled over your body, you were in some laidback loose-fitting jeans with rips in them and a creamy colored knit tank top, as he looked for any hint of ink on your skin.

“Well, you wouldn’t,” you said like the reason should be completely obvious to him.

You kicked out at him in annoyance. He caught your foot easily with his hand, and gave it a quick, sharp tug in warning. Smirking at you when you gasped and scrambled to hold onto the stool, “What does that mean?”

“It means it’s not for the viewing public, Rooster,” you huffed at him.

“Sounds like there’s a story here,” Nat interrupted, looking on with keen eyes.

Yanking your leg out of his hand, you went on to tell the story about how you had gotten it done one drunken night at a house party your junior year of college. A “silly, girly thing” was all you’d had to say about it.

“Sounds like you’re lucky you didn’t get hepatitis or a staph infection,” he grumbled. You took the beer out of his hand in retribution and claimed it as your own, while throwing him the middle finger as you took a swig. And he’d let you.

“If it makes you feel better, bird boy, the guy who gave it to me now works at a pretty popular tattoo shop in New York.”

It hadn’t and he never forgot about it.

There had been more than one occasion where he had caught himself looking at you a bit too closely in a swimsuit from behind his aviators at the beach trying to get a glimpse of it.

And now he finally knew.

His fingertips are drawn to the fine, dainty lines of the ink on your skin. The pair of delicate butterflies were placed discreetly on your lower pelvis. One looked like it was in mid-flight with its wings spread wide, while the other was waiting to take off and join it.

“These are pretty, they suit you,” he murmurs leaning in to touch his lips to them. “Definitely not for the viewing public.”

“Just you, Bradley,” you agreed, setting your hands on top of his where on your hips. And together you both work off that last bit of fabric off your body.

“God, you’re so beautiful. I don’t know how I got so lucky, sweet girl.” He kisses your pretty tattoo once more, then the spot below your bellybutton, the top of your pubic bone.

“You said you’d give me your mouth,” you whisper eagerly, your fingers carding through his hair. He loves the way your nails felt against his scalp.

“Whatever you want.” A reminder of the promise he had made to you in the hallway, before he even had you in his bed.

He inches himself even closer to your body, getting one of your legs over his shoulder, opening you to his hungry eyes. This part of you, just like your butterflies, was for his eyes and fingers and mouth alone.

He parts you with his tongue enjoying your little whimper and gives you a couple slow licks as he gets acquainted with your taste. He wants to savor you like a fine wine, to identify all the individual notes that made up the essence of you.

You’re already so wet for him.

And then he is exploring your pretty pussy with unrestrained enthusiasm. Using his tongue and lips to get you squirming before introducing his fingers. Your moans are better than any kind of music as he starts rubbing your clit with gentle precision.

His chest fills with smoky coils of masculine satisfaction as you prop yourself onto your elbows to get a better look at him as he works you with mouth. He holds your intense gaze when he slips one of his fingers inside the silky center of you.

Bradley can feel his heart beating in his throat as he watches your jaw drops in pleasure as you start to lose yourself to his mouth, “Tell me what you like.”

You’re so responsive to his touch. Your knee is trembling on his shoulder as he tries out long, smooth strokes and short, curling thrusts of his fingers determined to learn what makes your toes curl.

“I’ve never—,” you start before stopping, shaking your head.

“Never what, sweet girl?” he repeats, patiently looking up at you from between your legs. He is still circling your clit with his thumb as you work to find your words.

“I’ve never been able to come this way,” you confess like it’s something you’re embarrassed about. “But it feels really good. I just don’t want you to think I’m not enjoying this with you when I can’t get there.”

The burst of red-hot irritation that hits him like truck for all the men who have failed you in the past makes his jaw clench. Men who would prioritize their pleasure over yours.

He knows he is capable of getting you there. He wants to show you, to prove to you just exactly how capable he is about giving you the pleasure you deserve. It’s what he would give you every single time.

“Can I try?” Bradley waits until you nod your head yes, still propped up watching him. He places a kiss to your inner thigh in thanks for trusting him with this. “Tell me what makes you feel good,” he coaxes, “Tell me what you need from me.”

He’s tempted to suck hard enough to leave an indelible mark at the delicate skin of your perfect thigh. He wants you think about being back in his bed with him, when you’re at your apartment in your own bed. He just nips at the spot instead, before kissing it again.

“Can I give you another finger?” he asks.

“Please.” You whimper when runs his thumbnail across your clit before he gives you another one of his fingers.

“So polite,” he teases as he gets his mouth back on you. “I’ll give it to you right.” You clench against his fingers as they sweep against your front wall.

He is so hard, but all he can think about is how good you feel under his hands, under his mouth.

He is watching your face for every expression. He wants to know which motion of his fingers makes your breath catch in your throat. He wants to know what kind of touch makes your eyebrow pinch together and gasp.

Yes. There. More. Just like that.

It doesn’t take him long to get you writhing and keening for him as explores your body as you tell him exactly what you like.

“That, Bradley, that. Don’t stop, please.”

Your pupils are blown wide as you watch him tease his tongue against your clit with a pressure so gentle it makes your whole body shiver. He moans his contentment against your slick-shined center when you reach out to cup his jaw and stroke his cheek with your hand when he finds that spongey spot inside of you.

Your head falls back and you convulse spectacularly as you come with his tongue on you and his fingers in you.

“That’s it, that’s my girl,” he praises low and rough, “So fucking pretty when you come.”

Bradley hopes you can feel his grin against the soft skin of your thigh.

He lets you bask in the warm glow of your orgasm, all while his thumb keeps making the softest of circles against you, “Think you can do it again?”

Your heart is still beating erratically in your chest as you attempt to come down from your orgasm. You still can’t believe he made you come with his mouth in the first place, let alone that he thinks he can get you there again.

And when he puts his hot mouth back on you, your arms give out and you fall back against his soft duvet, “Fuck, Bradley, oh my god.” The feel of his mustache against that sensitive part of you was overwhelming.

Bradley works you like he is trying to erase the memory of any man before him.

The only other sound in the room besides your breathy panting was the wet sounds your body was making as his fingers curled and thrust in and out of you. You’d be embarrassed by it if was anyone else other than Bradley.

Because he is the one making you feel this good.

The coiling sensation in your stomach was tightening with every lick and suck and flick of the tongue he used to bring you closer to the edge. You savored the burn in your hip flexors as his thick forearms held you open for his talented mouth.

“Sorry,” you gasp, unable to control the way your hips roll against his mouth.

“Don’t be. Do it again,” he rasps, gripping your thigh harder, “Use my mouth.”

He hums in satisfaction when you do it again, this time on purpose at his command. The vibrations against your clit reverberate through your whole body as you rock against his mouth and ride his fingers.

The woodsy smell of his bed, the sound of his voice and dirty praise, the feel of his body on yours was building you up much quicker than before. Your hands were fluttering everywhere. In his hair. On your breasts. Tangling in his sheets.

You are hyperaware of his every touch and it has you feeling high strung. You’re there teetering having been built up so stunningly. Your body is pulled taut like piano wires with unreleased pleasure that you just can’t seem to reach.

One of his warm, comforting hands soothes up and down the side of your waist as you twitch and writhe beneath him.

“C’mon, kid. You’re there, I can feel it,” he says pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your tattoo before sealing his mouth over you again. “Want you to come for me.”

For him. For Bradley. You want to come for Bradley.

It is almost instinctual how your body responds when he laces the fingers of his free hand together with yours. You have been feeling so untethered in your own skin by the promise of another deliciously devastating orgasm. The squeeze of his hand is your gravity, anchoring you back in the moment with him

And he is holding more than your hand in his as you fly apart for him. He has your heart.

You can hear his gentle murmurs, but your brain can’t process anything other than a few choice words as he peppers kisses back up your body.

He leans over reaching for the forgotten half-full water glass on his nightstand, probably some misguided attempt to be courteous, but you need his mouth on yours right now. He makes a noise of surprise as you pull him to you, your mouth is already parted and ready to chase the taste of yourself off of his tongue.

It’s slow and languid and just what you need.

“I’ve never come so hard before,” you laugh pulling away from him after a few minutes, the endorphins hitting you hard. “You should lead with that. Bradley-Gives-Great-Head-Rooster-Bradshaw.”

His eyes glimmer with amusement, “I don’t think that would fit on a helmet, but you can introduce me that way if you want.” His voice is smug, but it’s his satisfied smirk that thrills you the most.

“Oh my god, you’re preening! You’re so pleased with yourself right now,” you giggle, your thumbs stroking over his mustache at the wetness still there.

“Damn right I am,” he rasps leaning in for another lingering kiss.

Bradley kisses you like a wildfire, all unrestrained heat. And you will happily burn for him. Under his touch you are regenerated, reenergized, revived.

“I want you,” you breathe into his neck, tugging on the band of his black boxer briefs. His body was already a visual treat and his heart even better, but you want to feel him against the center of you with nothing standing between your body and his.

You don’t want to want anymore, you want to know.

With your help, he pulls them down his strong thighs and off completely. You’re treated to the reminder of just how big he is, it would almost be intimidating if you weren’t so desperate for him.

You run your hand up and down the length of him. He was right that night on the phone, you’d need to use both hands next time.

Savoring the way he drops his head down and pants into your clavicle, the coarse hairs of his mustache rough on your skin in the best way. With your other hand, you play with the short hairs at the nape of his neck. His biceps quaking from where they’re rooted on his mattress next to your head.

You want to make him feel as good as you do.

“Can I go down on you?”

Your mouth would be the end of him.

“Next time,” he grunts out. He’s barely able to think with the way your hand is stroking his cock, let alone speak.

“Haven’t you thought about my mouth on you? Come on, Bradley,” you purr temptingly. You both know you’re not playing fair when you tighten your grip on him.

“Shit.” He’s breathing hard now. “Of course, I have. I thought about it this morning when I got myself off in the shower, sweet girl.”

He’s treated to both the sight of your dimples and the clever twist of your wrist at his confession. He knows you think you’re going to get your way, like you usually do, so he changes tactics, “I promise, the next round you can do whatever you want to me.”

“Already planning for round two, huh?”

“Yeah, kid,” he says hoarsely, “Did you think this was just going to be one and done?”

You collect some of the precum from the tip of his cock with your thumb and lick it off as you look up at him doe-eyed and innocent, “Well then, I hope you can keep up, Lieutenant.”

A feral groan rips from him and he drops his head down to yours feeding you his tongue. He dominates your mouth as he slides and swirls his against yours. You whimper prettily as both flavors melt across your tongue.

“Do you like the way we taste?” he rumbles, his voice like gravel.

Bradley doesn’t know how to interpret the sound you make or the way you choke out oh my god.

“Sorry, too much?” he asks raggedly, checking in. The last thing he wants to do is make you feel uncomfortable because he can’t stop from running his mouth.

“God, no. I’ve never been so turned on, Bradley,” you pant, as you rock your warm, wet pussy against him. “Don’t want you to hold back with me.”

You’re both naked and it’s no secret how this night is going to end. He loses himself to the feel of you as you roll your hips against him, whining every time the head of his cock connects with your swollen clit.

“Hold on, hold on,” he doesn’t know why he feels nervous bringing it up, but he needs too while he still has the brain function to talk about it. “I’ve got condoms. It’s been awhile for me, but I got a new box in my bathroom. I just need to go grab them.”

He moves to get up, but you tighten your hold on him.

“I’m on the pill. I, um, got back on it after our first date,” you say almost bashfully. “So if you wanted to go, ah, without it would be ok. I would be fine with it if you didn’t wear one. More than fine, actually.”

There’s something about your endearing self-conscious babbling that helps him get out of his head, “Can I tell you something?”

“Anything, always. You know that,” you tell him, nudging your nose against his.

“I haven’t done this without one before,” he admits.

And it’s clear from the way your eyebrows spring up that this surprises you, “Wait, never?”

“Never,” Bradley confirms. He brings your hand up to his chest so you can feel how fast his heart is beating.

While he’s had a couple serious girlfriends in the past, one didn’t like the way the pill made her feel and the other didn’t like the mess. It was never a big deal to him as long as everyone felt good. He liked that extra layer of protection, he never liked the idea of potentially getting someone pregnant and leaving them to care for his child when his job was so unpredictable.

And with one-night stands, the use of a condom was never even a question.

“So, I get to be your first?” A delighted grin overtakes your face, as you affectionately run you hand through his hair.

“If you want,” he offers softly.

“I want it to be me,” you say with such sincerity it makes his chest ache.

You pull him back down to you and wrap your legs around his hips, pulling him even closer to you. The two of you are a frenzy of wandering hands and teasing tongues and needy noises.

“How do you want me?” he asks, low and velvety.

“I’ve imagined everything,” you whisper, your thumb caressing the long scar from where your hands are cupped around the side of his neck. “But I want you like this, just like this.”

He has always been wrapped around your finger, but with your hand on his cock guiding him to the center of you, he is at your mercy.

You trusted Bradley to be gentle not only with your body, but also with your heart. You were safe in his stupidly big and unfairly perfect hands.

There’s no holding back the sharp inhale as his thick, flared tip enters you for the first time. He’s barely inside of you and the way he is filling you is nothing like you’ve ever experienced before.

The low whine he makes as he slides into you without anything in-between your bodies is the most erotic thing you’ve ever heard. You are impossibly wetter at the knowledge that you are the one to make him feel this good, that it’s your body he’s experiencing this with for the first time.

Your eyes flutter close at the sheer stretch of him as he presses further into you.

Slowly, gently, deliberately.

“No,” he roughly rasps, pausing half-way inside of you, “Look at me.”

His desperate tone sets off more goosebumps over your body. With no small effort on your part, you do as he wants.

He looks just as overwhelmed as you feel. The flush from his cheeks and neck has worked its way down his broad chest, there’s a sheen of sweat collecting in the hollow of his throat and you want to lick him there.

“Want you to keep your eyes on me.”

You fight the urge to squirm as he slowly serves you the rest of his cock. He’s intensely watching your reaction to every ridge, every vein, every thick inch of him as he makes encouraging circles with his thumbs over your hipbones.

If you were to close your eyes again, you know you’d be seeing stars. But how could you when he was looking at you with such wonder.

You are nearly undone by the sensation of being so entirely wanted and cherished and lo—

“Bradley,” you whimper, unguarded under his gaze.

Every emotion is pounding away inside of you, eager for its turn in the spotlight.

“I know, I know.” His voice is rough and wrecked.

You can feel what he really means. We’re right on time.

Your heart stumbles over itself when he tenderly kisses the damp skin of your temple when his hips finally, finally press against yours.

And for a moment you two just hold each other’s eyes as you get used to being connected with each other in the most intimate of ways.

Your mind was taking snapshots of everything, you didn’t want to forget a single moment of this. All these little details of him that belonged to you. The length of his eyelashes. The flush of his cheeks. The state of his pretty wavy hair made messy by your hands. The pinch of his brow. The exact shade of his whiskey brown eyes as he stared into your eyes.

It is almost too intimate the way he is looking at you when he starts moving above you. As he took in your every dewy blink, every hitch of your breath, every little sound you made. As he slowly, purposefully rolled his hips against yours.

That untethered feeling was settling over you again. “Bradley, need you to kiss me.” You feel his hands tighten on your waist. He was inside of you, but you needed him closer. “Please, please.”

His lips are on yours like a flash. “Anything,” he murmurs in between deep, thorough kisses. “Anything you want.” You take his tongue just like you take the rest of him.

You’re on the right side of too full and he is hot and heavy inside of you. It is dizzying being this stretched around him, this surrounded by him. You can feel everything. The orgasm that sneaks up on you is a silvery, shimmery thing that coasts over you like stardust.

“Fuck,” he groans as your pussy lightly flutters around him, slowing down his thrusts to draw it out for you.

You recover quickly, the sensation that swept over you was not nearly as intense as the ones that he gave you with his mouth and fingers, but no less satisfying.

“Of course, you’re good at this too,” you laugh breathily.

He huffs one of his own in response, his mouth pulling crookedly to the side, “I told you we’d be good together.” He props himself up higher with his forearms from where they were lovingly, protectively caged around your head, “You feelin’ good, sweet girl?”

“So good, it’s so good, Bradley.”

You can feel his grin when he makes your back arch from hitting you just right. Grasping onto his thick biceps, your fingers dig into the corded muscle there. All you can do is let the rhythm take the lead as he picks up the pace again.

It’s hard to draw a full breath. Whether from being so filled by him or from the pressure building in your chest you couldn’t say.

He is everywhere, but it still isn’t enough. You don’t know if you want more or you need less. If you need him to go slower or if it’s not fast enough. You’re so overwhelmed, it’s just so overwhelming how good he is making you feel.

“Bradley, I need, I need-” you can’t even finish your sentence before you’re making a noise of frustration.

“Shh, it’s ok. I got you, kid.” He tosses your legs over his shoulders and raises up to his knees. Lifting your hips up as he reaches over to grab a pillow and slides it underneath you.

Next powerful thrust of his hips has you feeling like you are going to vibrate out of your skin.

Bradley has always been a big fan of mutually assured orgasms, but he had no idea sex could be this good. He has never felt so in sync or connected like this with anyone else ever.

And the way you feel around him with nothing separating his body from yours was indescribable. Only you had the ability make him feel this good.

He wanted your heartbeat to syncopate to the syllables of his name like his did with yours.

“Fuck, fuck. That feels so good,” you stutter out. The new change of angle has you even tighter for him as the sounds of your bodies coming together fill the room. “B-bradley.” a thrust “Your pillow.” a grind “The mess.”

“Fuck the pillow, I’ll get a new one,” he grunts. He clearly isn’t doing his job if you’re concerned about something as inconsequential as some feathers surrounded by cotton.

And then his loses himself in your whimpers and whines and the feel of your perfect-for-him body. In the silky warmth of you. Of his hands on your waist, on your hips, on your ass.

He has to remind himself this is the first time of many. He’s been dying to have you in every way possible for weeks. He wants to know if you sound the same as you do right now beneath him or if your sweet noises changed whether you were above him or on your hands and knees in front of him.

He couldn’t wait to find out.

“You’re taking me so well,” he praises. You clench around him and his hips nearly falter in the slow, steady rhythm he has set, “Mm, of course you like a compliment.”

Bradley leans down to kiss you and you cry out at the change of position. Good girl. He teases his mustache down your neck, licking along the straining tendon of your neck. Pretty girl. And then he has he mouth on your breast again. Sweet girl.

The position is perfect for him to grind against your clit. The sounds of your soft sighs, of your breathy moans, and your shaky exhales as he hits that spot inside of you just right has him fighting the urge to chase his own release. And he can’t hold back his own sounds of satisfaction when your hot mouth trails along his collarbone, your tongue laving over that scar on his shoulder.

“I can feel you’re holding back,” you urge. “More, give me more.” One of your hands goes to his ass encouraging him to go faster.

“I’m trying to be romantic here,” he only partly teases, as he rolls his hips in that way he now knows makes you gasp.

“You are, you are,” you promise as you pet the side of his face. “But Bradley, I need you to romantically fuck me harder.”

Only you could make him laugh and make his cock stiffer all at the same time.

He’s never been one to deny you. He sits up on his knees again and flings one of your legs over the crook of his elbow, opening you up and giving him more room to give you just what you want.

“Look at you, I can’t believe you’re mine,” he groans. He can’t tear his eyes away from the way your tits bounce as he gives it to you harder, faster, deeper. “Touch yourself for me.” The only thing he can think about was getting you over the edge, so that he could follow you.

He nearly comes at the pretty sight of your fingers making rapid circles on your clit. His hips are rocking into yours roughly, and the way you are whimpering his name is ratcheting his need for you even higher.

Your mouth feels too far away, he wants to taste his name on your lips. He drops back down caging you in his arms. The two of you groan together, he’s much deeper this way. Your hands are fisted in his hair, pulling tightly at his curls as you sweep your tongue against his.

There’s no way he’s going to last with you gripping him like this. He can already feel the tension building in his spine. He knocks your hand out of the way as he takes over the ministrations on your clit, rubbing you there with tight circles.

“Bradley,” you gasp and writhe desperately against him. The way you chant his name sounds so breathy and perfect in his ear as he speeds up the motion of his fingers needing you to come undone.

And then he feels as you spasm and arch and come apart for him with his name on your lips.

bradleybradleybradley

The blood is buzzing in his veins and his breathing has gone entirely ragged as he continues to move in you until you go soft in his arms with a full-bodied sigh.

And then he gives into the desperate way his body needs yours as he chases his own climax.

He presses his face into the curve of your neck, mouthing at whatever skin he can reach as he comes. Nothing has ever felt so good to him as it does emptying himself inside of you, as he thrusts deeper into you as your body convulses around his.

It’s an earth-shattering orgasm that takes and takes and takes.

You don’t know how long you and Bradley lay there tangled up in each other, all heated skin and rapid heartbeats. It’s the most you can do to run your hand through his damp hair from where his head is still tucked against your neck and up and down his muscular back.

He’s long since pulled out of you and you can feel him dripping out of you. But if Bradley isn’t worried about the mess, then neither are you.

You’re still getting use to the weight of him. Still getting use to the shape of your bodies pressed against each other in this way. But it’s better than you could have ever hoped for.

He’s better than you could have hoped for. In every way that mattered.

“So, same time, same place tomorrow?” you ask finding your voice first. You can feel his chuckle as he kisses your neck once, then twice before he pulls away to look at you.

His brown eyes are rimmed with hazel and crinkled around the edges. All the affection and happiness and familiarity evident on his flushed face.

And then he smiles at you. And you know you’re wearing a matching one.

And then you giggle. And he lets out a laugh as he reaches up to softly brush the sweaty strands of hair away from your face.

“You know what’s not fair?” He lets out a hmm of acknowledgement for you to continue as his thumb traces your cheekbone. “You’ve got all these nicknames for me, but I don’t have one for you. Should we try some on for size?” you croon against his ear. Feeling very pleased with yourself when the heavy hand resting on your hip tenses in response.

You kiss along his jaw. Honey. Over his cheek. Baby. On the corner of his perfect mouth. Sweetheart.

“Bradley,” he murmurs looking at you softly.

“Bradley?” You repeat it back to him. Not questioning, but there’s a curiosity there. You love the way he leans in into your touch as you comb your fingers through his waves.

He nods and you’re hit with a wave of affection for this man in your arms. Your Bradley.

“Ok, Bradley,” you say indulgently as you drop a lingering kiss to his lips. “I can work with that.”

And then you’re whispering his name and alternating kisses to his skin, his stomach tensing and flexing as you work your way down his body.

Not one to break his promises to you, he keeps to his word and lets you whatever you want.

After you’ve gotten your way and after he’s gotten his again, you’re wrapped up in his strong arms tangled in his sheets. You’ve never been more satisfied in your life than you are with him here and now, warm and cared for.

You’re too contented in the blissful after you had been so needlessly worried about to fight sleep as it comes to claim you.

Will you two stay intertwined like this all night? Or will he chase you across the bed like he has been chasing you in your dreams?

Snuggling in closer to Bradley, you think about how excited you are to wake up next to him in the morning. Knowing him, he will probably be up before you, hopefully waiting with a steaming cup of coffee for you.

With his soft breaths in your ear, you let yourself drift off to the sweet potential and possibilities of tomorrow.

There’s so much to look forward to.

More of Bradley, more with Bradley.

The two of you are perfectly and exactly on time.

This was written as the part of a series for characters in the “Like I Can” Universe. If you missed Part 1, you can read it here!

They’re right on time, and boy, was it worth the wait!

If you’re curious about what Bradley’s room looks like, you can check it out here! (I’ve updated it to include some headcanons)

I wrote this little series as a birthday gift to my favorite Taurus Moon twin @gretagerwigsmuse! It only took a couple months, Jordan, but its the gift that keeps on giving!

You can read my other stories here!

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roosterforme · 4 months

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The Intern Part 3 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley had an easy way about him that you appreciated. Working for him all summer sounded promising, and you were determined to make it fun for both of you. But as you dipped your toes into getting to know one another on the flights from San Diego to Lisbon, you ended up closer to him than you ought to be, both conversationally and physically.

Warnings: Language, brief mention of drugs (eventually 18+)

Length: 4900 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

The Intern masterlist. Check out my masterlist for more. Banner by @mak-32

"I still can't believe someone is paying me fifty thousand dollars to spend my summer on a yacht," you mused as the private Cessna jet gained altitude over the California desert landscape.

Bradley turned and looked at you from his plush leather seat across the narrow aisle and smirked. "You needed the money that badly?"

"Don't play games," you told him, and he laughed. "My point is, I would have done this for free just to get Ted off my back."

His fingers tightened a bit on his armrest, knuckles growing white as he closed his eyes and said, "Now you tell me. My department budget could be looking a lot fatter right now if it wasn't for you."

You could feel the airplane leveling out as the flight attendant, a woman named Melissa, stood and made her way back toward the two of you. "Oh please," you groaned, earning one of those grins from him that made you feel light inside. "I know how much the shareholders make, Mr. Bradshaw. It's not like it's not listed on the Nasdaq Composite if you dig deep enough."

"Can I get anything for either of you?" Melissa asked.

"I'll take an Old Fashioned, please. Hold the cherries," you replied while Bradley just shook his head in a jerky motion.

When Melissa disappeared behind the black curtain, you asked, "Why are you so tense? Have a drink and relax."

He huffed out a laugh. "It's eight in the morning. A drink is not going to help me."

You leaned a little closer, and his gaze definitely dipped down to your unzipped sweatshirt. "Don't tell me you're into something harder?" you asked, already thinking you'd be disappointed by his answer. You'd been there and done that. Hung out with and dated guys who were users, and it was not something you wanted to be around. Even out of your sorority sisters, there were only a handful who weren't high all week during grad school.

Bradley looked at you with alarm. "I'm absolutely not going to allow drugs on the yacht, Ivy League."

"Good," you replied right away, already feeling more at ease as Melissa dropped off your cocktail. "Thank you."

But she was looking at Bradley now as she said, "Please let me know if I can get you... anything."

He waved her off as you took a sip of your mediocre cocktail. Melissa had gone a little heavy handed with the bitters, probably because she was too focused on your hot boss to measure things correctly. "Take a sip," you told him, reaching across the aisle with your glass. "You look like you need it."

He grunted and accepted the drink, and a few seconds later, he had downed the whole thing. "Thanks," he whispered. "I hate this part of traveling to Europe for Avio. The flights are going to take forever."

You narrowed your eyes at him and took back your empty glass while he white knuckled the armrest again. "You were an aviator, Mr. Bradshaw."

When he looked at you again, his cheeks were a little flushed as he softly said, "You don't have to call me that. Bradley is fine."

"Bradley," you said with a smile, and his face softened a little bit. "Why don't you like the Cessna? I mean, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't also hoping for something at least a little more luxurious from Avio, but it's not that bad."

He shook his head at you, something you were pretty sure you were just going to have to get used to for the summer. But his mustache twitched as he licked his lips and said, "Maybe chartered flights are normal for you, Ivy League, but I got used to being the pilot. Of something much less comfortable than a Cessna Hemisphere. So this just feels inherently wrong to me. I mean, I just drank a cocktail."

"Inhaled," you corrected. "And technically it was my cocktail," you said, waving to Melissa and holding up the glass and two fingers.

"Semantics," he grunted. "I miss my Super Hornet right now. Not only were there no drinks, there wasn't even a bathroom."

You watched Melissa duck behind the curtain again, probably to forget how to make a cocktail again. "Well, we'll be there soon," you told Bradley.

"I doubt these pilots can do Mach 2, so not fast enough for me."

You sighed, knowing this would probably be a lot easier for him if you could get him to drink a second Old Fashioned, but when Melissa dropped two more of them off, they were both garnished with a cherry. "I asked you to hold the cherries."

"Oh, yes. Sorry," Melissa muttered. "I can remove it for you."

"I'm allergic, so I'll actually need you to remake mine," you replied, and Bradley started to hand his back as well.

"Remake hers, and mine too," he grunted, suddenly looking far less nervous about the flight as he made to stand up. "Fresh glasses and everything. I don't want cherries anywhere near her." You looked up at him in surprise as he kind of rolled his eyes and followed Melissa. "I'll make sure she does it right," he whispered, and you watched him walk up to the curtain, as confident as he usually was.

"Thanks," you replied, even though nobody was there to hear you now. Well, he had promised he'd do everything he could to keep you safe and comfortable. You watched as he crossed his arms over his broad chest, and you pressed your lips together. That blue Oxford shirt was the exact best color he could possibly wear, and you wondered if he knew it or if it was an accident that he chose it.

When he met your eyes, you didn't look away. You didn't really care if he knew you were checking him out. Until you did. Because when he walked back with two new drinks, you realized how little you knew about him. "Here," he grunted, voice deep and raspy. Then he clinked his glass to yours before sinking back into the aisle seat opposite yours again and buckling his seatbelt once more.

"Thanks for doing that."

He smiled at you. "Can't lose my intern on her first day. Especially since I've never had one before."

You perked up, loving that you'd cornered the market. "I'm your first intern?"

"Yeah." He was back to downing his drink and looking miserable now, practically throwing the empty glass aside in favor of gripping the armrest. Abandoning your drink after one sip, you stood and stepped over his outstretched legs, his eyes following your every move as you eased yourself down into the window seat next to him. "You okay?" he asked, looking a little amused now that you were just inches away from him.

"I am, but you're not," you told him with an air of authority. "Just relax," you added as you took his hand from the armrest and held it in both of yours. His brown eyes went a little wider, and his lips parted like he wanted to say something. Probably question what you were doing. But you said, "You'll feel better in a few minutes," as you worked your thumbs along the pressure points in his big, rough palm. And then he closed his eyes and without a word, he leaned back in his seat with his hand cradled in yours. Soon he was sound asleep.

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

Bradley woke up to an almost pleasant humming sound all around him. His hand was warm and wrapped up in something soft, and when he opened his eyes, your face was just a few inches from his as you slept. His body thrummed with something akin to desire as you pursed your haughty lips in your sleep, long lashes grazing your perfect cheeks.

Shit. His hand was resting on your body, fingers tangled up with yours and wrapped in your designer hoodie. His knuckles were pressed to the soft skin which was exposed between your high waisted pants and your damn sports bra. And based on the way the plane was started to descend, he'd taken a five fucking hour nap all cuddled up with his intern. With Ted's goddamn daughter.

Hands off. He'd been telling himself to keep his hands off of you, and just a few hours in, he was literally doing the exact opposite. But you'd been sweet to him, carefully massaging the pressure points in his hand until he was able to fall asleep. You must have drifted off then, too. And now he was loath to remove his hand from your body or look away from you.

He needed another fucking drink. Or several. He leaned carefully over you, and sure enough, he could see the New York skyline coming into view through the small window. And he could smell your perfume. And that was when you opened your eyes, immediately sitting up a few inches and nearly bumping noses with him.

"Sorry," he grunted. "I was just trying to see where we were."

"Where are we?" you asked, your voice soft and a little rough from sleep. Jesus, he liked the way that sounded.

"Almost to New York. Want me to ask the pilot to circle back to Philly so you can wave to your alma mater?"

You laughed and sat up a little more, arching your back, but you didn't immediately let go of him. "No, thank you. I've only been gone for a week, so I'm sure the City of Brotherly Love is enjoying this break."

Bradley found himself continually laughing at your words, but now you were looking at his hand all linked with yours, so he started to pull his free. You didn't stop him, and when you looked up at him, you even asked, "Did you sleep okay?"

He nodded his head once. "I did. Thank you. For making me feel better."

You sat up the rest of the way and stretched, and he had to look away as you said, "A good intern is good at everything."

Your words weren't dirty, so why the hell were his thoughts? He should be trying to find out more about your father, not imagining you wearing a fluffy white bathrobe while you drank an Old Fashioned sans cherry next to his bed. He was miles away in his mind when the plane touched down on the runway before taxiing to the refueling spot. His stomach was growling wildly now as Melissa walked back and offered them a very late lunch.

"I didn't want to interrupt anything," she said, looking between you and Bradley like the two of you had been all over each other. When she turned away to get the salads and sandwiches ready, you climbed over him to use the bathroom, and Bradley watched you ignore a phone call as you went. He also realized that he'd have to tread very carefully around potential clients over the next few weeks. It was one thing for Melissa to make a comment like that, but it would be something entirely different if a line like that got back to Ted.

While the plane was refueled and the pilots switched places for the longer flight from New York to Portugal, you and he ate in companionable silence. You'd returned to your seat across the aisle, and you ignored another call before tucking your phone away in your bag. Bradley also used this time to drink a gin and tonic in the hopes he'd be able to sleep again, slightly afraid you wouldn't join him on his side of the aisle to make him feel cozy again.

"We'll be taking off again in five minutes," Melissa informed him as she cleared away the meal and brought pillows and blankets. Your phone was out again now, and you ignored yet another call as Bradley shook his head.

"Are you going to keep me up at all hours of the night on the yacht yelling at your little boyfriend on the phone?"

You scoffed and looked right at him as you said, "I don't date little boys. Are you going to keep me up calling your wife and kids back in San Diego?"

He didn't want to laugh at the way you talked to him and kept him on his toes. He also registered that the way you'd let him hold your hand while he slept had only come from a platonic place if you were just now asking if he was married. "I don't have a wife or kids."

"Why not?" you asked, leaning on your armrest with your tits smashed together. "You could be married. If you wanted. You're tall and you have all your hair."

"Are those the only prerequisites?" he asked, trying not to look anywhere other than at your face. God, your little bikinis were going to be the absolute death of him if he didn't get fucking laid soon.

"No," you replied without missing a beat. "You're smart, too. Handsome. Tons of money. And you seem nice. Good manners. You make me laugh. Seems like someone would have snapped you up off the market by now."

His cheeks felt warm again as he tried to figure out how to answer. You'd just complimented him nine different ways, and he was reeling a bit. "Because I was in the Navy. Nobody in their right mind would trust a Navy guy with that level of commitment."

"Why not?"

"They lie and they cheat," he said, repeating the lines women had been telling him since he was twenty two. "Nobody you'd want to settle down with."

But you didn't look convinced as your smile tilted a little higher on one side. "Are you a cheater?"

He knew somehow he wouldn't get away with speaking anything but the plain truth to you from here on out. "No."

"I didn't think so." You looked satisfied as you settled back in your seat, about to snuggle under your blanket. The sky was a little darker now, and there was nothing below except for the Atlantic Ocean.

He had a slight buzz from the gin, and he felt a lot better than he had earlier this morning. He reached for his bag and pulled out his laptop before crooking his finger and coaxing you back to the seat next to him. "We have a little work to do, Ivy League."

While he expected you to complain, you didn't. Rather you popped out of your seat with your pillow and blanket, climbed over him and settled in the window seat once more. "What is it?" you asked eagerly, and when he logged in to his email account, he saw something from Ted right away. Just a reminder to keep himself on track.

"I'm going to teach you a little bit about the Avio software we will be marketing, so by the time we land in Lisbon, you'll know as much as I do."

You curled up with your pillow and blanket and looked at him, your words doing more to him than you probably intended. "Don't test me, Sir, or I may end up knowing more than you."

"You're a brat."

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

This time when you woke up, it wasn't to Bradley's touch or his brown eyes. This time it was to Melissa's laughter and Bradley's soft voice. "When are you flying back to the states?" she asked him as you cracked your eyes open.

"Not any time soon," he replied smoothly. "We have a lot of work to do."

"Well I hope I'm on your flight back," she said flirtatiously as you propped your head up.

But Bradley wasn't paying attention to her now as he turned your way. "You're up," he mused, and you just nodded, wishing you'd had time to shower or check how you looked before he saw you. "We'll be landing soon. And then we'll get you and your designer luggage to the yacht."

You watched Melissa roll her eyes at you before she stood. "I'll be right back with coffee and some breakfast."

"Hold the cherries! Please!" you reminded her, just to be obnoxious. When she pretended she didn't hear you, Bradley chuckled. "You know, it's kind of refreshing being given an attitude. Is this how you feel when I give you one?"

His eyes went a little wider. "Don't make me call your father."

"I thought you valued your intern," you replied with a smirk. "So don't make me spread that nasty little rumor around Avio that you went to the University of Bumblefuck."

"Virginia," he snorted.

"Whatever."

Melissa dropped off mugs, a carafe of coffee, cream, sugar and pastries. "No cherry," she said blandly as you reached for a blueberry muffin.

"Much appreciated," you replied as you peeled back the wrapper and took a nibble while Bradley ate an apple danish in two bites before he poured coffee into both mugs. Clearly the two of you were hungry. You also had no idea what time it was. You had to put your phone on silent since your dad wouldn't stop calling you, even though you told him you'd talk to him when you got on the yacht.

"How do you take your coffee?" Bradley asked as you silently chewed. You went to reach for the creamer, but he pulled it away and looked at you.

You swallowed down your muffin and said, "Cream and sugar, but you don't have to do it. I should probably be doing it for both of us."

He shrugged and got your coffee fixed up exactly the way you would have made it yourself, as he said, "You and I will be working in close proximity, and I feel like this is the kind of detail I should know."

"Well how do you take your coffee?" you asked, but he set down the cream and sugar without adding anything to his. "Black, no sugar."

"Black, no sugar," he confirmed before taking a sip. You watched the alluring scars on his neck as he swallowed, once again surprised that he wasn't married. He didn't seem as helpless as your father, but he seemed like the kind of person who should have someone warm at home when he returned from work each night. Someone to look after him.

You took a sip of your own coffee and smiled, because it really was perfect, especially for something that was made on an aircraft. "Thank you."

"Any time," he responded, and you eased back in your seat and looked out the window as the Portuguese coastline came into view. You drank your coffee and picked at the muffin, watching as the very early morning sun made the Atlantic Ocean glitter. There were marinas filled with yachts and sailboats, and you wondered if Avio's was amongst them.

"Were you on the yacht with my dad last year?" you mused as the plane dipped lower in the sky.

Bradley set his mug down, and maybe it was just you, but his features suddenly seemed a little guarded. You'd always been good at reading people, which made it easy to get a favorable response when you needed one. But he'd never looked at you this way before. "For a few days. One of my buddies from the Navy was there too. Jake Seresin."

You blinked and his expression was neutral again. "The name sounds familiar."

Bradley laughed as the plane touched down. "The face will be familiar, too. Soon enough. He's champing at the bit to get onboard for a few days here and there this summer."

You set your mug down as well and said, "Don't worry, Sir. I'll dazzle him to bits during the dinner parties."

Bradley's nostrils flared, and his pupils grew wider. "I don't doubt that."

When you laughed, he smiled before looking down at his hands. "Well, Bradley, I don't know about you, but I can't wait to get on the yacht. I wonder what kind of caviar the chef will serve for lunch."

You unbuckled your seatbelt, prompting him to do the same. "There are different kinds of caviar?" he asked, one eyebrow raised as he picked up your tote and handed it to you.

"Don't embarrass me, Bradley. The other interns will all laugh at me behind my back."

But he just shook his head as he moved to the side and said, "After you, Ivy League." So you led the way to the front of the aircraft, thanked both pilots and Melissa, even though she clearly didn't like you, and you climbed down the stairs onto the warm tarmac.

You shouldn't and absolutely couldn't keep reacting to Bradley the way you were, but when he placed his hand on your lower back and said, "This way," you nearly moaned. You looked up at him as he tried to guide you toward the waiting limousine. "Go climb in. I'll grab the bags."

"I can get my own bags," you insisted.

"I know you can, but you have nine hundred of them, and I'm still hungry, and I can do it faster."

"Fine," you replied, and you could feel his gaze on your back as you walked toward the driver who was holding the back door open for you. "Thank you." As you slid across the leather seat, you watched Bradley effortlessly lift multiple pieces of your luggage at the same time while you bit your lip. What the hell was it about him? You couldn't quite put your finger on it, but he was enjoyable to watch. His voice made you feel a little fuzzy. He was raw and genuine like your favorite pair of well worn Levi's which were tucked away in your Dior suitcase he was carrying with one massive hand.

You looked away. You counted to ten. You already knew this was going to be an issue, so you weren't sure why it was hitting you now. When you glanced his way again, he was bringing his own two, nondescript pieces of luggage to the limousine trunk, and then he was sliding across the seat next to you.

"Twenty minutes to the marina from here," he murmured, his hand coming to rest on the seat next to your thigh. "And then we can get to work."

You pursed your lips. "I was under the impression we would be playing, too."

He chuckled as you started to look through the compartments next to the seat. "We can play a little bit."

You opened what turned out to be an ice chest, and ran your fingers along a bottle of chilled Dom Perignon. "We can start with this," you said, pulling it free from the ice and holding it up.

He was looking at you, not the bottle, but that little twitch of his mustache was his tell. Even though his eyes seemed stern, he held out his hand, and asked, "Think we can finish it in twenty minutes?"

You smiled brilliantly as you handed it to him. "Don't ever ask me that again."

"Sassy," he muttered, unwrapping the foil and slowly twisting the cage loose before wiggling the cork free with his big hands until it popped. "Here you go."

"No," you insisted as the driver pulled out onto the main road. "You first. Drink to a successful summer."

Bradley nodded once and took a sip before handing you the bottle. His eyes were on your lips as you pressed them to the bottle where his had just been. "To a successful summer," he echoed, his voice a deep rumble as the city went by in a blur. You couldn't stop smiling, and neither could he, and approximately eighteen minutes later, when he helped you out of the limousine, his cheeks were flushed pink.

"Is that it?" you asked, very slowly removing your hand from his as two men rushed your way in matching gray shorts and navy polos. There was a massive yacht with Down to Business lettered across the back and Avio Technologies along the side.

"That's it," Bradley confirmed, slipping his black sunglasses on as he reached to shake hands with the two men who introduced themselves as Antonio and Nikolai. Bradley told them your name, and they both took your hand in turn. "She's my intern for the summer," he said smoothly, and then they started to unload your luggage.

"Let's go," you said, glancing back at Bradley as you started down toward the marina gate, and then he was right next to you again with a few long strides. "I hope you can find your Armani swim shorts quickly, because that pool is calling my name."

"I can, actually. One of the benefits to only bringing two suitcases." He helped you over the gap, and as soon as you were on the yacht, you felt at home. You knew this was going to be the summer you needed.

"Let's go meet the captain," he murmured, his hand finding your back again.

"Do you think he has more champagne?"

"Ivy... it's nine in the morning."

"I'm still on San Diego time."

Bradley paused for a beat while he did the math. "It's one in the morning back home."

"Exactly," you told him with a little pout that you knew wouldn't actually faze him. He just smiled as he guided you past the pool you couldn't wait to jump into and an enormous jacuzzi. You walked through a dining room that could seat twelve people and past a fully stocked bar. It was like the best offerings from your sorority house and your dad's estate all rolled into one.

"Welcome aboard!" boomed a voice with a French accent. "We've been expecting you. I'm Captain Marcell." He was probably in his sixties with gray hair and a matching beard, and he reminded you a bit of your favorite professor at UPenn.

"Pleasure," you replied, shaking his hand after Bradley told him your name.

Next to him were lined up two friendly looking women, one with short brown hair and one with long brown hair. Beatriz and Lucia, the stewardesses, would be taking care of everything you needed. And next to them was an attractive man wearing a bit of a scowl.

"I'm Rocco. The chef. I can make anything. I don't like changing the menu at the last minute."

Oh, you liked him already as you shook his hand. And then your heart fluttered as Bradley said, "I need to speak with you about removing any cherries from the yacht before we leave the marina."

"Cherries?" Rocco asked, scowling deeper.

Bradley glanced at you as he removed his sunglasses, and his mustache twitched. "Yes. Can't have any onboard. That applies to the kitchen and the bars. My intern has an allergy."

"I'll take care of it," Rocco replied before turning away, and you'd never been more certain that someone would take care of something in your life. Then Captain Marcell handed Bradley a folder.

"Rough itinerary. Weather report for the week. List of phone numbers. Please let me know how long you'd like to spend in each port. I can of course adjust anything as needed. Now if you will select your cabins, Antonio and Nikolai will deliver your luggage."

"Thank you," Bradley replied, handing the folder to you. "You're in charge of this. Now why don't we head down so you can choose a room?" He nodded his head toward a wide set of stairs.

You walked down to the lower deck, and once you and he were alone again, he pointed to the left. "The sooner we get settled, the sooner the swim trunks come out?" you asked softly.

"Something like that." His soft chuckle was right behind you as you stopped at a mint green door with gold trim.

"Is this my room?" you asked, placing your hand on the doorknob. There was a little keypad next to it.

"If you want it to be," he replied. "Or, there are three others you can choose from."

"Which one are you taking?"

His eyes flitted from your face to a spot a little further down the hallway. "White door."

When you turned to investigate, you saw a pink door directly across from that one. "Wouldn't it be easier if my room was near yours?"

"Probably." His expression was neutral, but that damn mustache was giving him away.

"I'll take the pink one."

"Very good. I'll get the room codes from Beatriz, and I'll tell them where to deliver the luggage."

"Great," you replied, still standing close to him, but he didn't move.

"Perfect," he said, brown eyes focused on yours. The hallway was narrow, and now he was placing his hands on his trim hips, taking up even more space. "Try not to get into too much trouble while you look around."

Finally he turned toward the stairs, but you called his name right away. "Bradley?" He glanced back over his shoulder with a questioning look. "Thanks for mentioning the cherries."

"Sure," he replied easily. "I got you, Ivy." Then he was walking back up the stairs and out of sight.

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

We are about to set sail. Let's get into a little trouble. Let's have a little fun. Already feeling a little tension between Bradley and Ivy League. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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foreverrandomwritings · 10 months

Text

Oral Fixation

Summary: The five times Bradley takes note of your oral fixation. Then the one time he decides to say something to you. (I was watching both Legally Blonde movies when writing this last night so it turned out kind of pink)

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x afab!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, rough deployments, insecurities, alcohol, bars, clubs, sex MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY.

Word count: 3660

Masterlist

One

The first time you met was also coincidentally the first time he noticed your oral fixation. You had been transferred into fightertown from an overseas position. You were a new Psychologist and had been tasked with going around to pretty much everyone on base to inquire about their desire for a therapist. You had found most of the dagger squad in the rec room. Payback, Fanboy and Coyote were all up in the sky and the rest of them were lounging around the room.

Bradley had turned his head away from the movie on the tv in front of him at the sound of your closed toe pink heels clicking along the tiles of the ground. His eye’s worked their way up from your feet, to your light gray slacks up to the pretty pink silk button up tucked away inside of them. When his eyes finally landed on your face you had been sucking on your cheek. As your eyes connected to his own you let go of your cheek and gave him a sheepish smile.

“Hi, I’m the new clinical psychologist on base. Vice Admiral Simpson suggested I go around and introduce myself.” You stuck out your hand expectantly. He gave you a smirk wrapping his much larger hand around your own.

“Bradley Bradshaw, callsign Rooster, Ma’am.” His hand was still clasped with your own, but you didn’t seem to mind. The screams of victory from Phoenix and Bob as they won a game of foosball against Yale and Harvard had your hands separating reluctantly.

“Here’s my card.” You pulled a stack of them out of your pants pocket. Slipping one out of the pink rubber band they were wrapped in you handed him the small white rectangle.

“I already have a therapist off base. But is there any way I can call you for dinner?” The boldness of his question had your cheeks heating. You pulled your lip between your teeth, debating how to respond to him.

“I don’t see why that would be a problem.” You gave him a sweet smile before slipping away from him and working to the other aviators in the room. He watched your every move admiring the way you so easily conversed with the group. He noticed your eyes light up when you got to Hangman and his lips pulled into a frown. He couldn’t hear what you were saying as the two of you were on the other side of the room.

Jake reached into one of his pockets and pulled out a small container of toothpicks. He shook one out and handed it to you with a smirk. You said something to him before passing him one of your cards and taking the toothpick from him. Bradley watched you place the little piece of spearmint wood between your teeth. Your shoulders relaxed as you closed your lips around the object. Then you were walking his way again and he quickly flicked his eyes back to the tv not wanting to get caught staring. But you had felt his eyes on you the whole time you were in the room.

Two

The second time he notices your oral fixation is while you are about a month into dating. He had asked you to go to the hard deck with him. It’s a slow night so you are sitting at the bar talking to Penny. Bradley is at a table with Natasha while she goes on about the double date she and Bob just went on the night before. He was only half listening however. His eyes were focused on your form clad in a pair of high waisted light wash ripped skinny jeans and a bright pink cropped tank top.

Penny had a customer so she had been helping them which had left you alone briefly. You plucked the cherry from the bottom of your glass and pulled the fruit off the stem. You chewed it quickly before slipping the stem into your mouth. You absentmindedly worked the stem around your mouth as you scanned the bar. Your eyes met Bradleys and you gave him a toothy grin showing him the knot you had made proudly. He sent you a wink and a thumbs up.

“Are you even paying attention to me?” Natasha huffed out at him dramatically. He turned to his best friend sat across from him and gave her an apologetic look.

“I’m sorry about that. What were you saying about your date?” The female aviator rolled her eyes before continuing her story. He listened more intently this time actually nodding along and conversing with her as she spoke.

“I’m gonna go grab another beer. You want one too?” He asked her as he stood up, their conversation had ended a moment ago and they had just sat in comfortable silence. But Bradley was desperate to be next to you so he could take in the smell of your floral perfume. Natasha grunted in response, handing him the empty bottle she had been peeling the label from.

“Hi there cherry blossom.” The long nickname had stuck like glue when he had first laid eyes on the pink flowers tattooed across your back.

“Roos.” You giggled at him, the silver chain with a single delicate pearl around your neck moving along with your chest.

“Are you drunk?” His eyes took in the knotted stem filled napkin beside you. He knew Penny had to have been doubling the cherries with the amount he saw.

“Just a little tipsy. Penny makes amazing drinks, Roos.” You punctuated the sentence by taking a sip of your drink loudly. Bradley let out a laugh at your dramatic show, shaking his head playfully. As you pulled the glass away from your lips a few drops fell along your chin. He moved his thumb up quickly, swiping the drops away. He was going to wipe it off on his jeans but you pulled his thumb up to your mouth and sucked his thumb between your lips. You gave it a small bite before pulling your mouth away.

“Feel like taking a walk to the Bronco with me real quick.” He blinked at you slowly as you uttered the words.

“Uh yea... Yeap. That sounds good.” He all but dragged you out of the bar, his and Natasha’s drinks forgotten. You eagerly pushed him into the backseat before climbing in beside him. He experienced the best blow job of his life that night.

Three

The third time he noticed your oral fixation was when he had walked into your office on your lunch break. You were sitting at your desk biting off pieces of twizzlers aggressively. You hadn’t noticed Bradley yet so he sat in the doorway admiring the way you looked. Your eyes were narrowed at your paper and your pen gilded across it making harsh marks along it.

“You’re gonna rip your paper if you press any harder.” Your hand came up to your chest quickly, eyes widening.

“Bradley, I didn’t hear you come in.” You glanced at your watch, sat upon your wrist and flenched. Eye’s slowly moved from the screen up to your boyfriend.

“I didn’t realize what time it was. I’m trying to get through some patient notes. I’m so sorry.” You were supposed to meet him in the cafeteria and have lunch with him there. But you had just had a group come back from a rough deployment and had been swamped with paperwork from their sessions.

“It’s alright. I knew work has been rough lately so I figured I’d bring lunch to you.” He held up the bag that you had worked together to pack the night before.

“What would I do without you?” You asked him as you rolled your chair back standing up and coming around the desk. Bradley closed the door and moved farther into the room. He opened up your cabinet where you had hidden a microwave and popped in your pasta.

“You’d be left severely unsatisfied.” You hummed at the double meaning sitting down on the couch usually left for patients to sit on.

“How was work today?” You questioned him sweetly, smoothing out the material of your checkered pink pencil skirt.

“Went pretty well. We’re going over a new manual for a few tester planes we might get the chance to fly.” You had heard rumors around the base that the aviators were going to get some cool new toys to play with soon. The microwave alerted Bradley, it was done and he pulled the food out of it before closing the cabinet back.

“Here you go.” You took the food from him eagerly as he held it out for you. Spinning the pasta around on your fork before taking a large bite. You both sat and ate in silence enjoying the other's company and the good food. As you took the last bite of your pasta you held the plastic fork to your lips. The prongs slipped between your lips and you started to slowly gnaw on the material. Your watch furiously buzzed where it was sitting on your wrist. That seemed to jerk you from your thoughts. You looked at the clock hanging on the wall opposite you and groaned.

“I’ve got a patient coming in five minutes and I still need to pull everything up from our last session. I hate to cut this short but I’m gonna have to kick you out.” Your lips were set in a pout as you gazed at him. He closed the gap between you, giving you a few quick pecks on your lips before pulling away, listening to you whine pathetically as he did.

“That’s alright pretty girl. I’ve gotta get back to the hangar anyways.” He stood up and grabbed your container before slipping them both into the lunch box. He grabbed your fork as well and went to throw it away, taking note of the teeth marks embedded in the plastic. He’d have to ask you about your constant need for oral stimulation one day.

Four

The fourth time he notices your oral fixation he kinda blames it on you being drunk. You’re out celebrating your friend's birthday at a club and Bradley had volunteered to be the designated driver that night for you and your three friends. You were going through shots like it was your job. He had sat at a booth in the corner keeping an eye on you guys as well as keeping an eye on your stuff sat on the table top.

You had bumped into Jake at some point through the night and had conned him into giving you some of his toothpicks. You had then proceeded to chew through all of them in under an hour. Bradley watched you throw away the last one as it had snapped between your teeth with a pout on your lips. You then scanned the crowd quickly before your eyes landed on him and your face lit up. He watched you weave through the sea of dancing bodies quickly before you were sliding into the booth next to him.

“How can I help you, pretty girl?” Your already warm cheeks warmed even more at the compliment.

“You’re so handsome, Roos. Have I told you that already?” You hiccuped as you took his hand in your own.

“Doesn’t matter much if I did. I’ll tell you till I can’t breathe anymore.” You looked at him with hooded eyes as you brought his hand to your mouth and started to work your soft lip gloss coated lips across the rough skin in open mouthed kisses.

“You’re smearing your lip gloss everywhere cherry blossom.” He didn’t mind that you were getting it on his skin but he knew you’d be a little upset with the way the pink glitter was coating your face.

“It’s alright.” You threw his arm over your shoulder and sidled up next to him. He groaned as you laid your lips on his neck. You nipped and licked at the skin languidly.

“Come on, it’s girls night. He’s not here for you to play vampire with.” You pulled away from him slowly at your friend's words.

“I’m taking this.” You plucked the small black straw from his glass of Coke, before slipping from the booth. You adjusted your glittery pink dress as you stood and wiped your lip gloss off your face with a napkin. You placed the straw between your lips and gave him a wink.

You shimmed your way between two of your friends and danced with them for a while. Your teeth chewed on the straw as you lost yourself to the songs. Eventually your friends slipped back to the bar and you took the opportunity to slip back to your mustached boyfriend. He was going to playfully scold you for leaving your friends again but you didn’t give him a chance.

You scooted into the booth and planted your lips against his. He brought one of his hands up to rest against your face as you pulled his bottom lip between your teeth and sucked on it for a moment. He thought briefly about where your straw had gone but his thoughts were cleared as you slipped your tongue between his lips. Drunk you just couldn’t keep your mouth busy enough it seemed. But he wasn’t complaining one bit.

Five

The fifth time he had noticed your oral fixation had been one of the funniest. You were both covered in sea water sitting inside an ice cream shop that was along the strip of shops on the coast of the beach. You had gotten done with your ice cream cone way before the tall man sat beside you. He had insisted on getting the largest size they had. You told him you were worried about it melting everywhere but he had shooed you off.

“I’m gonna go get some gum.” You had spotted a gumball machine when you had first walked into the a/c filled building.

You dug out a few quarters from your purse and inserted them into the slot. You turned it a couple times before lifting the flap. The handful of pink gumballs filled your hand and you hummed in delight. As you sat back at the table with your boyfriend you slipped two gumballs into your mouth. You chewed on them animatedly, occasionally telling him about something funny that had happened in the show you were watching.

“Fuck.” He had been much slower with his ice cream than he expected and it had started to melt all over his hand.

“Oh here let me get that.” He thought you were gonna reach for a napkin but instead you pulled his fingers to your lips. You popped each one into your mouth, licking all the Chocolate and sprinkles off his fingers. He gave you a bewildered look as you nibbled on each finger tip gently.

“There ya go all clean.” You seemed proud of yourself for the way you cleaned him off. You grabbed a napkin out of the silver napkin holder and wiped his mustache clean as well.

“Thank you pretty girl.” You gave him a toothy grin before popping another pink ball into your mouth. You continued on with the funny story you were telling him and he continued to eat his ice cream. Neither of you mentioned what just happened.

Six

The sixth time he noticed your oral fixation was also the time he decided to ask you about it. It had been the morning after a few intense rounds of sex. You had been out of town for a week at a conference and had just gotten back and the night had been passionate. He had woken up before you which wasn’t a surprise, the jet lag from the trip paired with the activities of the prior night had caught up with you quickly. He slipped on a pair of his shorts he grabbed from the floor. Then he went into the bathroom to brush his teeth. His sleepy eyes took in his shirtless form in the mirror and dropped his toothbrush into the sink.

There were blue, purple, green and red marks all over his chest, neck and arms. Some of them looked like hickies, others looked like teeth marks. His finger came to run across every mark he could see. He was used to the occasional mark after sex with you but this was another level for the two of you. But he didn’t mind one bit. He was actually ecstatic to have the marks splayed along his body.

His mind flashed to a tiktok he had seen recently about something called an oral fixation. He thought back to all the times he realized your need for oral stimulation. All the dots seemed to connect as he recalled the information from the short video. He decided to do some research before making breakfast for the both of you. He sat downstairs with his laptop for almost an hour taking notes occasionally in a notebook he kept around the house.

After about an hour his stomach started to rumble and he closed his laptop. He slipped on an old navy crew neck he grabbed from the dryer before starting on the French toast, eggs and bacon. He knew you’d be hungry after your intense session last night so he made plenty of food. He was just getting done with your matcha latte when you made your way into the kitchen. You had on a pink babydoll nightgown and your hair was a mess.

“Smells good in here.” You told him as a yawn slipped past your lips. He gave you a peck on the lips when you wrapped your arms around his middle and laid your chin on his chest.

“I’m almost done with your matcha latte. Why don’t you go sit down and eat?” He nodded his head over to the kitchen island. You puckered your lips at him, batting your lashes at him lazily. He placed his lips upon yours once more before you slipped out of his arms. He landed a smack on your ass as you walked away causing you to gasp.

He was sitting on a stool next to you after a couple of minutes. You moaned as you put the first bite of French toast in your mouth. He felt pride swell in his chest as the thought of you loving his food so much. He had learned everything he knew from his mother so it always made him happy when you showed how much you enjoyed it. The many cookbooks in the pantry held so many recipes that you were more than pleased to try.

You guys conversed easily, talking about your seperate week. You took another long sip from your latte as you fixed your eyes on him. He was telling you a funny story about something stupid Maverick had said. You hadn’t realized you had zoned out until Bradley laid a hand on your leg. You stopped chewing on the rubber bit wrapped around the tip of your metal straw. Eyes refocusing on the man in front of you.

“Do you have an oral fixation cherry blossom?” Bradley felt bad saying it so bluntly when you stopped drinking your match latte and pulled the straw out of your mouth. Your eyes focused on the floor beneath your pink slipper clad feet. You played with the hem of your night dress giving him a nonchalant shrug.

“It’s okay if you do babe. I just gotta know what I can do to help you.” His finger hooked under your chin bringing your face up so he could see it.

“It’s something that started as a kid. I normally do it unconsciously. Most of the time it’s when I’m stressed out, tired or need something to do.” You had been told by people before how weird it was. You were constantly chewing on random stuff, eating or chewing gum. Sometimes when you were with a partner you liked to give them love bites. It hadn’t crossed your mind however that you hadn’t told Bradley about the quirk.

“I love you very much and you are valid to need to stimulate yourself. I’m not judging you. I did some research on it this morning while you slept. Just in case you did, I’d understand it better.” He could tell you were feeling uncomfortable thinking he was making fun of you. You were speechless at his words. No one had ever gone out of their way to understand your unique way of needing stimulation.

“I’m guessing from what I learned this morning that the marks you left on me last night was your need to feel close to me and grounded during the vigorous activities.” You cocked your head to the side looking down at his shirt. You noticed some hickey marks along his neck but those were pretty normal for the pair of you. He reached for the hem of his crew neck and pulled it up. You gasped a hand coming up to your lips as you looked at the marks decorating his tanned skin.

“Oh Bradley I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” You carefully placed a hand on one especially harsh mark on his chest.

“It doesn’t hurt, pretty girl. I like that you were comfortable enough with me to be able to stimulate yourself the way you needed to.” He gave you a reassuring smile as he dragged his shirt back down.

“If you want we can go for another round. You can leave some on my back too.” His eyes held mischief as he looked at you.

“I love you so fucking much.” You giggled before launching yourself out of your stool and collided with the solid mass that was your boyfriend. You were on cloud nine from the open communication from the man you were lucky enough to call your own.

A/N: I had a lot of fun writing this. Likes, comments and reblogs are very much appreciated.

Tags(open): @wkndwlff @sylviebell @eternallyvenus @loving-and-dreaming @princess76179 @kmc1989

#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw oneshot #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw oneshot #rooster imagine #rooster oneshot #top gun maverick imagine #top gun maverick oneshot #fluff #smut

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icegirl03 · 1 year

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The morning after

Pairing: Jake"Hangman"Seresin x fem!reader

Summary: After the first night that you and Jake made love,this is how he decided to spend the morning after.

Warnings: mentions of sex,fluff,kissing,flashbacks.

(This photo does things to me)

••••••••♡♡♡••••♡♡♡•••••••♡♡♡•••••••

It was a Sunday morning,the bed felt very comfy and warm,and the sunlight was falling in your bed.

You open your eyes and it hits you: a very detailed flashback of the events that happened last night. You look to your side to find a sleeping Jake,peacefully breathing as his exposed chest was rising with every breath.

The very same man that had you screaming last night,who touched you everywhere,and whispered things in your ear,now looked as innocent as ever.

It was just you and your thoughts until you felt a strong arm around your waist pulling you into his chest. He gave you a warm smile.

"Good morning sweetie" his deep sleepy voice and his accent almost made you go for another round in that second.

"Good morning" you smile as you lay your head on his chest and he grabs your naked thigh and pulled it between his legs.

"Sweetie.." you look up at his eyes "...last night was..perfect. Thank you for last night. You feeling okay? You sore anywhere?"

He rubbed your inner thigh,worry in his eyes.

"No baby,I'm fine,I feel amazing,last night was..wow"

A deep chuckle left his throat as you felt his chest shake,his ego being fed at the compliment.

"You know now that I have you,I'm never letting you go right?" He smiled and raised his eyebrow.

You giggled "I have nothing against it Lieutenant"

You knew how much he loved it when you called him that.

With the arm that he had under you wrapped around your shoulder,he pushed away the hair from your face and leaned in for a long lazy sleepy kiss,much more gentle than last night. He hummed and gave your thigh a squeeze,earning a little moan against his mouth.

You stood there together in each others arms enjoying each others company,and whispering sweet nothings to each other,until one hour later Jake got up,the sheets falling from his body,leaving his as naked as his momma made him. A blush rose to your cheeks. He put on his boxers and a pair of grey sweatpants and gave you a wink.

"Let's put some food in your belly yeah? I'm gonna make pancakes,you lay here like the pretty princess you are and make my sheets smell like you until I'm done" he gave you one last kiss before leaving to the kitchen.

Your pilot didn't only know how to fly planes,he also knew how to cook. The rest of the day was spent in each others company, eating and showering together, and to join the dagger squad later to go for a few drinks,only to be teased from Rooster about the bruises on your neck.

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Taglist: @deanscroissant

A/N: Thank u for reading,if you liked it please let me know!

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

-Mama Cherry loves yall

#top gun maverick #iceman x you #iceman x y/n #maverick fanfic #top gun #top gun au #hangman x reader #iceman smut #top gun 1986 #top gun headcanons #hangman #hangman x you #hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin imagine

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ohtobeleah · 7 months

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Sixth Sense // Mickey Garcia

Summary: A freak accident occurs at the Hard Deck and Fanboy is faced with the challenge of being left to care for you, his not so official girlfriend.

Warnings: Mickey Garcia x F!reader. Hurt/Comfort. Gas explosion resulting in hearing and vision loss.

Word Count: 1.7k

Author Note: Day Three of Whumptober. Prompt I chose: Sensory Deprivation. Thank you to @ailesswhumptober for the prompt list.

Whumptober Masterlist | Main Masterlist

“Holy shit, what the hell was that?” It all happened so fast, so fast in fact that the explosion that ricocheted through the Hard Deck didn’t register a sound until a few seconds after the fact.

Patrons laid strewn across the bar, ducking for cover under tables and bars. Glass from the windows had sliced unsuspecting patrons as it blew apart from the force of the blast. Food and beverages littered the floor, thrown in the panic of the moment as all inside ducked.

“Everybody okay?” Jake Seresin stayed shielding Natasha Trace with his entire body. “Is anyone hurt?” His arms pinned her down against the hardwood floor at either side of her head. Seconds ago—they’d been arguing over a long standing disagreement over who could tie more Cherry stems with just their tongue in three minutes. Now, Phoenix had never been this close to a man she could hardly stand.

“Yeah—we’re good!” Rooster replied as he looked around, he’d been knocked on his ass by the bast. Coyote was right beside him, as was Payback. The three of them had been indulging in a game of darts to see who could knock Hangman down a peg or two on the leaderboard. “Bob? Fanboy? You guys okay?”

“I think we’re alright?” Bob groaned as he pushed himself up off the ground—peanuts were crushed all over the ground around him. Mickey sat back on his knees scanning the Hard Deck. He couldn’t see you. There was a small cut on the side of Mickey's face but other than an artificial flesh wound, he was relatively unscathed from the unsuspecting blast that had pummeled through the Hard Deck.

“Anyone seen Y/n?” Fanboys eyes continued to scour the entire expanse of the Hard Deck as he rose to his feet and dusted himself off. “Yo, guys—anyone see Miss Barkeep?”

“She was heading out back to help the gas guy change out the—“ Bob didn’t even need to finish his sentence before he’d connected the dots. “Oh god, Y/n.”

A gas explosion.

Mickey took a few seconds to register where his best friend's mind had gone, but then he realised. In those few seconds where Fanboy couldn’t breathe he knew he couldn’t live without you before he had a chance to really have you.

Sure, the two of you were friendly. Probably more than most friends would be. Sure, you sometimes spent the night in Mickey's bed after he’d stay back and help you shut the Hard Deck up. Sure, he spent lazy Sunday mornings with you in the kitchen making breakfast and drinking coffee more often than not. And sure, the two of you enjoyed each other’s company, blatantly flirted beyond belief and made sure to always text each other when you got home, finished work, and stole secret kisses here and there when it was just the two of you. But. You weren’t official.

And that may have been Mickey Garcia's biggest mistake.

“Y/n!?” There you were. “Oh my god!” Lying unconscious on the ground a few meters away from where the gas bottles were kept behind the Hard Deck. Penny kept a tight ship—they were locked behind a wire cage that made sure patrons couldn’t fuck around. Something must have gone wrong during the change over, because the gas man wasn’t too far away from you.

“Hey—hey!?” Mickey was by your side in an instant, the second his eyes caught your body lying there—thrown away and discarded like you weren’t the most important person to him, he was by your side. “Amor? Can you hear me?”

Rooster had already called for paramedics to attend the scene while Hangman and Phoenix had begun to do whatever they could with their advanced first aid training—using the Hard Decks first aid kit to fix small cuts and abrasions on patrons from lying shards of glass.

“Y/n?” You had a pulse, Mickey knew that much. But you weren’t waking up. “Please—come on Amor, you gotta wake up for me.”

“This guys dead—“ Payback calls out. Mickey's mind fills with worst case scenarios the longer you were down for. “He’s got no pulse and the back of his head’s cracked.” He’s an ex paramedic, he knows. “I'm gonna start chest compressions, see if I can bring him back, how’s the kid?”

You weren’t just shy of Fanboys age, he was the youngest in the group after all. Top of his class, intellectually gifted enough to graduate highschool three years earlier than most ever would. But to Paybacks forty one? You were still a child, in his mind anyway.

“She’s breathing.” Is all he says before your stirrings. “Hold on! I think she’s waking up!” There’s nothing but a ringing in your ear. A sharp high pitched buzzing that’s incessant and ear piercing. You groan at the sound as you try to blink away the clouded vision that’s plaguing your eyes. But nothing can get rid of the thick fog like blur. “Y/n—it’s me, you’re okay, I’ve got you—“ But you can’t make out who it is. You can’t hear anything but that annoying ringing that won’t go away. Your head hurts, holy shit what the hell happened?

“I—“ You stutter out. “I can’t see.” It sends Mickey's heart racing inside his chest, even more so than it already was. “I—I can’t see—“ You can't even hear yourself talking so you just assume you’re talking far too quiet. But in reality you're screaming, screaming so loud you’re straining your neck. “I CAN'T HEAR!”

“Hey—I’ve got you.” Mickey doesn’t know what else to do besides try and calm you while medics make their way around the Hard Deck. “I love you, yeah?” Payback hears Mickey say it before you ever do and his heart breaks. You don’t deserve this. Neither does Fanboy. “You’re gonna be alright Amor, I’m right here.”

But all you do is cry. You can’t hear a single thing being spoken or see a single thing in front of you. All there is before you are shadows of light and darkness. Mickey's hands squeeze yours and you feel it. His signet ring—the one his Abuela brought him many moons ago. But you know in the darkness and uncertainty that it’s Mickey at your side.

“If she’s lost senses, Mick, it's gonna be a head trauma of some sort.” Payback keeps going with his chest compressions. “Is there any sign of blood?” You squeeze Mickey's hand a little harder as he goes to pull away to check. You squeeze so hard that he can’t let go, you’re far too afraid of being left alone in the dark. “Fanboy?”

“I—I dunno, probably! She probably hit her head on the ground!” Mickey manages to wiggle free just one of his hands so he can push your hair out of your face. “Shhh—I’m right here.” He tries to soothe you once again, but your cries are just too heartbreaking. “Amor, I am right here with you—I’ve got you.”

“Please don’t let me die here alone.” Was all you mumbled out. You didn’t know what Mickey was saying or if he was saying anything at all. The ringing was all too deafening. But when you begged him to stay, to not leave your side. Mickey's heart shattered into a million different pieces. “Please don’t leave me.”

“I’m not going anywhere, I’m right here.” He traced your face with his fingers, just letting you know he was there with you. Your grip on his hand began to falter as you slipped into unconsciousness again, just trying to find some shelter from the ringing. “I’m right here with you.”

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“Without the surgery your daughter might regain her vision but it’s only a slim chance Mrs Y/l/n—“ Doctor Perry spoke to the woman on the other end of your phone. Mickey had called her on your behalf from the other side of the country, she was already packing her things for the flight she’d booked to be by your side. “I’d say it’s barely twenty percent.”

“What about with the surgery?” Mickey asked as his eyes looked over you. You looked too peaceful to be in this situation. You knew he was there just by his touch alone. He made sure you knew it was him by his ring as he ran his thumb across your palm. “What’s the odds of her getting her vision back with the surgery?”

“Almost one hundred percent—if the surgery were to go well. If it doesn’t then she runs the risk of being permanently incapacitated for the rest of her life.” Doctor Perry was a little too blunt for Mickey's liking, but he appreciated the direct route. “She’ll regain her hearing, hopefully, her ear drums were significantly damaged in the blast but they should recover.”

“Do the surgery.” Your mother barked on the other side of the phone. “My daughter can’t be deaf and blind—what type of future would she have then? What kind of quality of life would she have?” Mickey couldn’t take his eyes off you as you slept. It was better this way, to keep you sedated. That way you couldn’t panic. But he thought about it while the doctor droned on to your mother about the surgery, that no matter the outcome you’d have a life with him. He’d take care of you—learn how to adapt, help you with anything you ever needed. Do anything you ever needed him to do.

A freak accident that took away two of your six senses shouldn’t be the reason your life ends. You were still alive and oh how Mickey Garcia was grateful to whatever God was on duty that day.

“Mrs Y/ln?” Mickey interrupted as he turned the phone back his way. Your mother silenced herself mid sentence to listen to what Mickey had to say. “I know we haven’t formally met before but I just want you to know that I’ve been head over heels in love with your daughter since she served me for the first time.” He explained all the while his eyes never left your perfect face. A face he really wouldn’t mind waking up to every day. “And I know there’s a hell of a lot of uncertainty about what may come, but I just want you to know that her quality of life doesn’t diminish if her sight can’t be restored or her hearing doesn’t improve.” Mickey could feel the tears streaming down his cheeks as he squeezed your hand, and as much as he wished none of this ever happened, he knew he couldn’t leave you know. Not ever.

“I’ve got her ma’am—“

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Whumptober Tags 🏷️ @xoxabs88xox @oldermenaremyreligion @slut-f0r-u @emma-is-cool @armydrcamers @topguncortez @topgun-imagines @kmc1989 @els-marvelvsp @blindedbythelightt

#ailesswhumptober2023 #leahs whumptober Masterlist #mickey garcia #top gun fanboy #fanboy garcia x reader #fanboy angst #top gun mickey #top gun fan fic #top gun fan fiction

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aemondvelaryon · 1 year

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love grows (where the mustache goes)

summary: as the squad is giving jake as much shit as possible for the new offensive hair growing on his lip, you are frozen like a deer caught in headlights.

pairing: jake seresin x fem!reader

warnings: explicit language, realization of feelings, alcohol consumption to combat dirty thoughts.

word count: 2.2k

a/n: based on this lovely gifset by unicornships

If you were being completely honest with yourself, you always kind of had a thing about Hangman.

Look, you didn't hate him, per se, but he definitely stirred some feelings in you that were less than normal. He made you feel totally feral, if you will, unrestrained and vicious. The sort of anger that made you want to scratch your skin off, vibrating and seething, screaming at the top of your lungs.

It took barely a look, less than a glance, not even a word before you were fuming just by being in his presence. He had some sort of grip on you.

So, you tended to stay as far away from him as possible. Leaving when he arrived, staying home when his attendance was announced, and sticking close to people that either didn't like him or didn't know him. It was easier that way.

Easier than thinking about why he really made you so angry.

But the worst part was, the cherry on top, was that he just loved being around you. Loved seeing how worked up he could get you, making you squirm under his gaze, and making you turn bright red from his flirting.

He had to know. There was no way he didn't. The squad must have told him how much you didn't want to be near him which is why he made it his mission always to find you in every room.

He had to know how much he rattled you.

On this particular night, he had yet to make an appearance. But wherever Rooster was Hangman usually followed, and the tall, mustached, Hawaiian-shirted pilot had already made his way over to the piano tonight and the rest of Dagger had slowly trickled in.

You didn't know why you came out tonight especially since their shore leave had just ended and all of the pilots had started making their way back to base and the surrounding area which always included the Hard Deck.

But it was the only fun place around and Penny was so nice to you and going out in a dress on a Friday night and nursing a drink for a couple of hours just to be seen and known instead of rotting in your little apartment after work was worth the possibility you might see him.

Your eyes lock on the little crowd surrounding Rooster, as charismatic as ever, singing another 80s hit. You smile despite yourself.

God, how you wished Bradshaw was the one that made your brain go fuzzy. He was sure of himself, not arrogant, teasing, not antagonistic, handsome, not drop-dead gorgeous.

Sometimes you looked at Hangman and wondered why God would make him so fucking hot and then let him open his mouth.

It honestly wasn't fair.

Eventually, you hear his voice, and your back goes ramrod straight, awareness prickling at the back of your neck, and your hands instantly sweaty.

"Bradshaw, you started without me? I'm heartbroken. After I went through all this trouble to do this just for you? Absolutely devasted."

You don't look. Because if you look it will just cement how much you want to look, and don't want to stop looking.

A choked laugh sputters, as if they're surprised and then Phoenix's voice pierces through the crowd. "You didn't. Please tell me that's not real."

"No way! Someone go pull on it! Probably glued on." Fanboy shouts and you hear the sound of someone falling out of their chair.

"You got to be kidding me. What the fuck is that! Did something die on your face?" Javy yells in disbelief and disgust.

You want to look so bad. Just their reactions almost make you turn. Did he get a bad haircut or something? You're just close enough that you can hear every word but not enough that anyone's noticed you.

"Pay up, now, I called it! I can't believe you guys doubted me. I said he would do something like this." Reuben sounds like he's smiling triumphantly.

Bob's voice is quietly astounded, "He looks like 70s Porn Star Ken."

You sit up even straighter. Oh god.

He grew a mustache.

Rooster finally acknowledges him. "Man, Hangman, I knew you were obsessed with me, but this is another level."

You can't ever look over there now. Just the visual has your skin feeling too tight.

"You like it? Took me a whole month to grow this bad boy just 'cause I wanted to see the looks on all your faces, but I gotta say, now that I'm here, totally worth it." He's grinning, he has to be, shit-eating and ear-to-ear, you can feel it, can practically see his smile in your head. You've stared at it long enough.

"That's great. When are you shaving it?" Natasha sounds disgusted and it almost makes you laugh if you weren't so fucking frozen like a deer in headlights.

"I can't believe none of you are appreciating the effort I went through to do this. Unbelievable."

"You look like someone from the cast of Boogie Nights."

"Well that's a great movie, so thank you." He sounds closer now and the hand around your glass threatens to break it. "Y'know if I can't get you guys to recognize my dedication, I know someone who will."

Oh god, oh no.

"Hangman, don't--" But before another voice can dissuade him, he's already sidling up to you at the bar. You feel the heat of him before you hear his voice.

"Hi, sweetheart, did you miss me? I know I missed you." You grab your drink and finish it off quickly, eyes not looking over at him.

"What do you want, Hangman?" You hope to come off as annoyed, not rattled to the fucking core.

"Well, I know you love Rooster so much so I thought I'd do something to make me look a little bit more like him. Maybe get you to not run out of the room every time you see me, yeah?"

Goddammit, he can't know that you do that. Unless he pays attention to you as much as you do him.

"I don't love Rooster, okay, I just don't like you." You grit your teeth and call the other bartender on duty for another drink.

"Will you at least look at it, before making your judgment, babe? You're hurting my feelings." The faux hurt in his voice almost makes you turn.

"Don't call me that."

"What should I call you then, huh?"

Your drink gets refilled and emptied just as quickly. "Woah, slow down there. Don't need you passing out on me." You have to get the hell out of here, quickly.

Your name, for starters, maybe. "Nothing. I don't even want you to talk to me."

You turn and make your way off the bar stool and it rushes over you all too fast. An empty stomach and tequila do not a wise girl make.

You nearly fall off the seat and onto your ass but a warm hand finds its way around your waist and catches you just as quick. "Easy there." You shiver and turn in his grasp trying to get away but it just makes you meet his eyes.

Shit, shit, shit.

"You good?"

No, you are very much not good. He looks--fuck.

You don't see Hangman out of uniform often. You weren't a pilot or even in the military. Just a casual acquaintance that sometimes had a few chats with his squadron. So, you'd seen him in what he usually hangs out in, his tan jumpsuit, his swimsuit, you've even seen him in his dress whites before. But this Hangman just got back and hasn't even been to the base yet so this is Jake Seresin, Texas born and bred, raised on a farm, rides horses in his spare time, mama sweeter than apple pie, probably owns a fucking cowboy hat.

So, of course, he's got a plaid shirt on. Over that is a bomber jacket, like one you've seen Mav sporting before, only it looks like something you'd wear to go ranching in the winter not fly a plane. He's got jeans on, they’re all beaten up and used, and a leather belt, and he looks like he stepped out of some country romance Hallmark movie.

The mustache is the icing on the cake.

It's not that you had a thing for mustaches. You didn't because you had no feelings for Rooster whatsoever, but you didn't think they were unattractive or creepy like most of the population seemed to.

Did you have a big crush on Tom Selleck in Magnum P.I. when you were younger? Yes. But who didn't? And liking Bella's dad in Twilight didn't make it a pattern, okay! Everyone liked him.

"Uh." You finally gracefully spit out.

He smiles teasingly. "Didn't hit your head, did you?" He knows you didn't. He's playing with you. Riling you up as he always does. Because it's funny to him. Not because he likes you--wants you.

You sober up slightly and push at him. "No, get off."

Jake--God, no, when did he become Jake in your head--just smiles more but it seems softer. "I knew you'd fallen for me, but I didn't think you'd also do it literally."

You turn even redder if possible. "Shut up."

Christ, how was it you had reverted to playground comebacks at just the sight of him? Were you really so weak?

"You didn't answer my question." Was he still talking? You felt fuzzy.

"I need another drink." You can still feel his hand on your waist because despite pushing him away he hadn't let you go.

"Did I finally break you?" He laughs and shit, he knows.

"Why are you still talking to me?" You finally snap at him and his face falls a little, just slightly, that if you didn't have every inch of his face memorized you wouldn't have noticed it at all.

"Because I care what you think." It's a confession. It has to be. You don't know what else it could be.

"Why?" You squint at him. Dumbfounded is the only word that comes to mind.

"Why? What--you don't, you seriously don't know?" He still holding onto you, and his hand flexes, fingers slightly digging into your hip and you feel yourself inch towards him, always stuck in his orbit, gravity pulling you closer.

"Don't know what?" You lick your lips in anticipation and he glances, once, up, twice, down, and then looks away and swallows.

"Why the hell do you think I talk to you all the time? Come find you in a room? Grew this fucking thing on my face?" He laughs, bewildered, and shakes his head.

"Why?" You ask again, if he doesn't say it, you won't. Too goddamn scared that you're making it all up, reading too much into it. "I thought you just liked to tease me. Get a rise out of me. I thought you were making fun of me."

"C'mon, you know me, I do the same shit I do to you that I do to Rooster. That's just what I do when I like someone."

You punch him in the arm.

"Ow! What the hell was that for!" He whines and grabs his arm, taken aback and pretending as if it actually hurt him.

"Why didn't you just tell me that, you ass!" You screech a little, desperately, feeling way too many emotions at once. He tends to do that to you.

He scoffs. "Have you met me? Do you really think I'm emotionally mature enough to do that?"

"That whole time you were just, what, flirting with me?" You question incredulously.

He laughs, a little bashfully. "I mean, come on, I thought it was obvious. I mean it was to everyone else."

You pale a little. "The others know?"

"Yeah, 'course they do. They're the ones that pointed it out in the first place. I didn't even realize I was doing it at first either." He scratches his neck, almost nervously.

"So why the mustache?"

"I don't know. I was just trying to get you to pay attention to me. Thought this might help." And god help you, Jake blushes, actually reddens a bit.

"How'd you know?"

"Hm, know what?" He smirks at you.

You cough. "You know, that I'd--that I'd like it."

Jake grins. "I didn't but you just told me you did."

You hit him again, a slap on the shoulder, almost playful, and you can't believe it, you're flirting with him, you're really this close to him, doing this. "Fuck off."

He smiles again but this one is different. His eyes are incredibly soft and he's looking at you and--did he always look at you like this? Were you really this blind?

"I need you to answer another question for me." His hand on your hips snakes around you and you stumble into him, putting your hands on his chest to brace yourself, and, Christ, he smells good. “Do you think I could take you out sometime?”

"Um." You're throat suddenly feels incredibly dry and you're heart feels like it about to beat right out of your chest. "I mean, if you want to."

"Yeah, baby. I want to."

#jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #hangman fanfic #jake seresin fanfic #top gun fanfic #top gun maverick fanfic #my writing #idk what this is but i hope u enjoy it #just something a little sweet for the kids #love grows

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callsign-venus · 6 months

Text

I'll Be Home for Christmas | Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader

Description: With Bradley on deployment, you don't find the Christmas season as cheery as usual. The Daggers make it their mission to help you get into the holiday spirit. Cue intensely competitive gingerbread house decorating competition.

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Fluff with a teeny dash of angst. Drinking. That’s pretty much it. Really just self-indulgent, friendship-heavy fluff with lots of pining. Enjoy x

Nat King Cole’s voice dances out of your record player has you put the finishing touches on your cranberry Aperol spritzes. Their cherry warm color makes you smile despite yourself.

You have always loved Christmas, but this year it hits you like a truck – and not even one with a tree strapped on top. All the little traditions that usually warm your heart with holiday cheer feel just plain sad to do alone. You had a tremendous battle with your artificial tree, which fell on you twice. You were proud of yourself for not crying, and in the end you were able to admire all of its eight feet of glory. Then you remembered you had to light the whole thing. Two hours later, you had undone no less than three tangles of light strands, found out two of them were dead (and all your untangling had been for nothing), and had one big cry fest for yourself. Not even a steaming cup of cocoa made you feel better after that disaster.

Wrapping presents for your friends and family, rewatching all your favorite Christmas movies, and driving around rich people neighborhoods to admire their lights hadn’t gone as poorly, but they all made his absence grow harder to ignore.

When Bradley told you his deployment would last through the holidays, you struggled to keep your disappointment to yourself, though you’re sure he could see it shining in your eyes. As much as you would miss him during the holidays, you knew it was worse for him, with only emails and skype calls for comfort – no silly little Christmas rituals to occupy his mind.

“You need help in here?” Natasha’s voice jolts you out of your pity-party spiral.

“No, I just got distracted,” you say, scooping up two of the spritzes and offering her one. “Let’s get this party started.”

Phoenix smiles and accepts your cocktail. She herself had just gotten back from her own deployment, and pretty immediately sensed your holiday ennui. She was the one who suggested this festive evening, and you’ve never been more grateful for her friendship.

While you were listless in the kitchen, she had assembled the most perfect gingerbread house making station you’d ever seen: frosting packed into several near-bursting bags, candy canes arranged in perfect rows, gumdrops with a shimmering dusting of sugar, and a scattering of gingerbread roofs and walls waiting patiently to be dressed.

“Wow, Nat, this looks great.”

“Thank you. I’m sure the boys will mess it up in three seconds flat, but at least you appreciate it.”

As if on cue, your front door bursts open, and a clot of merrily dressed sailors spills into your home, arms stacked with presents for Secret Santa. You point to the open space under the Christmas tree, and quickly your and Natasha’s presents are joined by all the others.

After the presents are unloaded, you and Phoenix are engulfed in hugs. Fanboy is wearing a Santa hat, and he has two in hand that he passes to you and Phoenix, insisting that you put them on right now. You happily oblige, as you’re inching closer to how you usually feel during the holidays now that you’re surrounded by friends. Even Jake is cheery, having rocked up in an ugly Christmas sweater covered with bows and tinsel, which is bizarre yet comforting. You do your best not to think about the person you wish was here most, as the Daggers seem dead set to help you have a great Christmas despite his absence.

“This is for you, our gracious host.” Bob hands you a potted poinsettia. “Thanks for putting up with us.”

“It’s really no problem,” you insist as you place the flowers on the side table by your couch. “I love you all.”

He runs a hand through his hair. “Still, we’re a lot, I know.”

He’s not wrong – Coyote and Payback have already found the spritzes and Fanboy’s popped three gumdrops into his mouth – but you don’t mind. Even when the gingerbread house decorating competition starts. Calling it a competition might be an understatement. The Daggers are more than competitive, especially about inconsequential things. Nobody speaks as they draft their houses in bright white icing and stud them with decorative candies. The only way to get them to quiet is through arts and crafts, you muse as you decorate your house with swirls of icing like snow drifts and tiny snowflakes dotting the roof and walls.

The sabotage begins early, when Hangman reaches for a bowl of peppermints and not-so-subtly brushes his hand over Phoenix's roof, smearing the frosting.

“Hey asshole,” Natasha says. “That’s my house.”

“Oh really? Looks like you got a little smear there.” Jake slides a finger across Phoenix’s carefully piped shingles, messing up her roof even more.

“You’re a dead man, Seresin.” Nat narrows her eyes. She won’t go for Jake’s gingerbread house, she’ll bide her time. You’re glad you’re not Hangman right now.

“Got anymore spritzes?” Coyote asks you.

You nod your head. “In the kitchen, help yourself.”

When Coyote gets up to refill his glass, Fanboy snatches his piping bag and swaps it for his almost empty one. While Fanboy’s distracted, Payback helps himself to the pile of Twizzlers Fanboy’s been hoarding since the beginning of the competition.

“Who is even going to judge these?” You ask almost absentmindedly as you stand a gingerbread couple together at the door of their house with copious amounts of frosting. “We all know whose house is whose.”

There’s a smattering of laughter.

“We’ll figure it out after Secret Santa,” Nat assures you as she completes the retiling of her roof, the eaves perfectly punctuated with peppermints.

Before you can question the logic of that solution, Bob asks for your opinion on colored versus strictly green and red gum drops.

“Hey, no helping the competition,” Fanboy complains.

“What?” You level a heavy gaze on him. “Scared you won’t win if Bob and I combine forces? I would be.”

“I’m just saying, this should be a fair contest,” he says.

You shrug him off and answer Bob, but in the spirit of sabotage, you neglect to tell him about the frosting dried on his cheek.

Even though you’re risking your gingerbread house’s safety, once you’ve finished, you slip into the hall. You refresh your inbox on your phone, and you smile as you see an email from Bradley.

Subject: Miss you

Hey pretty girl. Been missing you all day today. Wish I was there to hang stockings and give you the best mistletoe kiss the world’s ever seen. Don’t forget to hang it – you can leave it up until I get back. Don’t have a lot of time, but I just wanted to let you know that I love you and I can’t wait to come home to you.

Your heart flutters, as it always does when you get an email from him. You quickly type out a response.

Subject: Miss you more

Hey hot stuff. I’ve already hung the mistletoe and have no plans to take it down until you make me see stars under it. I miss doing holiday things with you (you really know how to wrangle the tree), but Nat especially has been helping me through it. Still, I really miss you. All I need is your arms around me and everything will feel right again. Can’t wait to see you again.

You press send and sigh. You never want to complain – it’s Bradley who had to live on an aircraft carrier for months at a time – but sometimes it feels so unfair for two people to be so in love and yet spend the holidays all alone.

You give yourself a moment to collect yourself before you go back to the increasingly hostile competition. Jake has icing in his hair – you know Phoenix is responsible, but her wrath won’t end there – and Payback’s house had a giant fist-sized crater in the roof. Surely unrelated, Coyote’s knuckles are dusted with gingerbread crumbs. You couldn’t help the smile the chaotic scene pulled from you. Especially since your gingerbread house remains in pristine condition.

You thank Nat for watching over it, and she responds with a bright smile. “No problem, I can’t have the boys messing up your Christmas celebration.”

“Hey!” All the boys except Bob protest in unison. Phoenix raises her brows, point proven.

Once all of the gingerbread houses are complete and aligned in a row like a candied neighborhood block, the party shifts toward the Christmas tree. Bob distributes presents to each of you. Yours is an envelope, and you know it is from Nat. Your name is written on the thick, cream paper in Nat’s graceful script, which you know like your own after years of friendship.

“No one can beat my present,” Nat boasts as she catches you studying the envelope.

“Oh we’ll see,” Coyote says.

You swallow down a little lump, seeing everyone around the tree without Rooster. Though you love and appreciate your friends, the emptiness of his presence is almost smothering.

Your mood warms when Jake volunteers to go first. You’re his Secret Santa, and just as you predicted, he loves the smartphone-controlled paper airplane you got for him. He opens it and has it folded in a matter of seconds. He syncs it to his phone, and his first flight ends with the plane crashing into Coyote’s head.

“Durable.” Hangman remarks as he picks up the paper airplane, which holds its shape just fine.

“Asshole.” Coyote replies.

Payback is next, and he gets a bottle of scotch from Jake. You don’t know much about scotch, but from Payback’s reaction, you can tell it’s a really nice bottle.

Coyote gets Bob a navy Aran sweater, which Bob wastes no time throwing on.

“Feel how soft!” Bob says as he smothers Coyote in a hug. Cue three minutes of Bob inviting everyone to touch his sweater – you can’t blame him, though, it is really soft.

Bob’s gift to Coyote makes you wonder how Nat is going to top it. Bob made a crochet version of Taffy, Coyote’s miniature pinscher.

“Thank you, I love it.” Coyote cradles the crocheted dog tight, and you wonder if you’re just imagining the tremble in his voice or if he’s actually about to cry.

“Come on Javy,” Jake says, “don’t go all soft now.”

Fanboy gets a countertop pizza oven from Payback, which instantly becomes one of his most prized possessions based on the sheer amount of pizza he consumes.

“Thanks, man.” He gives Payback a friendly punch on the arm. “You all have to come over for pizza night.”

You all hum in agreement. Fanboy’s pizzas are amazing, and you wouldn’t mind spending another night with everyone together. Well, almost everyone. You swallow down the lump in your throat.

Phoenix opens her gift from Fanboy slowly, as if she’s afraid of its contents. She peels back the shiny green paper to reveal a charcuterie board and a set of cheese knives with wooden handles that match the board. She hugs it close to her chest and mouths thank you across the room to Fanboy, who doesn’t notice because he’s reading the pizza recipe included with his oven.

Finally it is your turn. All eyes in the room land on you, strangely sober despite the freely flowing spritzes. You give Phoenix a quick glance as you slide a finger under the flap of the envelope, but her expression is unreadable.

“It's a…” you say as your fingers graze a satiny band of fabric. “Blindfold?”

You hold it up for everyone to see. Everyone’s expressions are carefully arranged to not convey anything. Not quite the laughter you were expecting. A sense of uneasiness blooms in your stomach.

Nat stands up and takes the blindfold out of your hands. Quicker than you can think, she’s tying it around your head.

“What is going on?” You ask.

She finishes the bow and pats your shoulder. “Just you wait.”

A few suppressed snickers fill the room and make your uneasiness melt into dread. The gentle shush of a door opening and closing makes it worse.

“I swear, if you guys are ‘How the Grinch Stole Christmas-ing’ me right now I will be so angry.”

The silence that falls after you speak is so, so loud. No one turned the record, so even Nat King Cole is quiet. But then you hear it. It’s hard to explain, but you’d know that breathing anywhere. You’d spent many nights falling asleep to that gentle lullaby or hearing it as he held you close in the kitchen, neither of you caring that dinner was burning on the stove.

You rip off the blindfold, and there he is. Bradley. Bradley. Standing next to your Christmas tree, a bow tied around his chest. The Daggers surround him like magician’s assistants, all their hands raised in a sort of ta-da manner.

You leap off the couch and into his waiting arms. He smells like an aircraft carrier and shitty coffee, his clothes rough and government-issued, and his hair cropped a little too close to his head than you know he likes – but he’s yours. He’s yours in the way his embrace consumes you, blurring the line between you and him, erasing the months and miles of distance between the two of you. He’s yours in the way the beat of his heart drums in rhythm with your own. Yours in the way that you are his as well. He lifts you up so your feet dance in the air, pressing kisses to the top of your head.

He sets you down and crashes his lips into yours. He slips his tongue into your mouth unabashedly, and despite your audience, you let him. The kiss is long enough that you start to feel bad for everyone else, so you sheepishly pull away.

“Goddamn, Rooster,” Hangman says, “let the girl breathe.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He waves the comment away.

But you don’t want to breathe. Not if your other option is to kiss Bradley until you’re both oxygen starved. Because you’re starved for him, need to feed on his presence.

Then the realization sets in. Rooster is supposed to be deployed for another month. You wheel around to face Nat. “How the hell did you do this?”

She shrugs. “Loverboy emailed me last week, just after I got home from my deployment. Said he was coming home earlier than expected, and he wanted to surprise you.”

“Wait, so all of you knew?” You pointedly look at everyone, but nobody can quite keep eye contact with you.

Bradley wraps an arm around your waist. “They all did pretty good keeping it under wraps, huh?”

“I would hope so, given our clearance levels,” Jake says.

Everyone laughs, but you’re still reeling. You can’t believe Bradley is here. His calloused fingers rubbing the skin of your back, just under the hem of your shirt. His gentle laugh reverberating against your body, reminding you what wholeness feels like. His lips, slightly chapped (with none of your chapstick to steal on the carrier), murmuring into your hair. You can’t hear what he’s saying, but you know what he means nonetheless.

You’d imagined Bradley’s homecoming as a flurry of ripped clothes, bruising kisses, and mutual insatiable hunger, but this is better. All of your friends in the same room, sharing in this festive homecoming, looking like absolute dorks. Fanboy’s Santa hat sits askew on his head. Payback and Coyote are obviously drunk off their asses (they definitely pregamed the festivities, as Payback has been reduced to giggles and Coyote has actual tears streaming down his face). Jake has yet to realize the frosting in his hair, Bob the frosting on his face. And Natasha is a dork by association. You and Bradley too. But the overwhelming love in the room makes you want to sob happy tears.

Bradley happily indulges you all in judging the gingerbread houses. He gets down to eye level with each entry, runs his fingers along the roofs, occasionally snaps off a piece of candy and pops it in his mouth.

“Very good job, everyone.” He speaks to the group as if you’re all kindergartners, reveling in the building anticipation. There’s never a prize for Dagger competitions, but there doesn’t need to be. Bragging rights is all they need, no matter how menial the situation.

Bradley carefully reshuffles the houses in order from last to first place. Fanbody. Jake. Payback. Coyote. Nat. He purposefully shields first and second place. Only you and Bob are left – maybe the least competitive people in the room – and still, tension is thick in the air.

“And the winner…” Bradley’s voice booms like an old-fashioned gameshow host, “...is…”

He finally slides to the side to reveal your house sitting in first place.

Bob sticks his hand up for a high five. Your hands collide with a solid thunk.

“Not fair,” Fanboy protests. “Rooster’s obviously biased.”

“Come on, he didn’t know whose house was whose,” Phoenix says. “Besides, you weren’t even in the top five, and Payback had a hole in his roof.”

“It’s ok, Nat,” you voice oozes with fake sympathy. “I’d be upset too if I spent so much time on a shit gingerbread house.”

Fanboy’s eyebrows shoot up. “Oh you want to play that game?”

He lunges around the table, and you immediately grab Bradley to use as a human shield.

“Lots of talk from someone who’s gonna hide behind her boyfriend,” he says teasingly.

“I’m not hiding.” You tighten your grip on Bradley’s waist, his hands covering yours. “You can get to me, you’re just gonna have to get through him first.”

Bradley puffs out his chest. “Nobody disparages the gingerbread contest queen. She earned her title by being the best.”

Later, because he can’t keep a secret from you (the only thing that saved the Secret Santa surprise was only being able to communicate through email), Bradley confesses that he knew which house was yours the moment he saw it. But still, that one little detail doesn’t negate the fact that you are the gingerbread contest queen.

And Bradley defends your honor well as you maneuver him from behind to keep a distance between yourself and Fanboy. Eventually, Bob steps in to broker a peace deal to end the conflict. Somehow, you are roped in for bringing more spritzes to Fanboy’s pizza night, but he can no longer dispute the fact that you have the best gingerbread house. A win is a win, and your gloating privileges remain.

Later, when everyone is winding down and glancing at their coats hanging by the door, Bradley pulls you into the kitchen.

“Honey, I think our guests are about to leave.” You try to move back toward the living room, but Bradley keeps hold of your hand. “Please, let’s not be rude.”

He shakes his head. “They’ll understand. They know. They know exactly what it's like.”

You relent because he’s right. Even you don’t know what it’s like. Loneliness has been a long lingering companion of yours, but you suffer her presence at home surrounded by close comforts and your parents a short drive away. For Bradley, for Nat, for Jake, for Bob and all the rest, it’s different. It’s their job. They suffer loneliness with mostly long shifts and shitty food for company.

So you let Bradley chase out his – and your – loneliness in the kitchen. As he pulls you ever closer, his palms flattening you against him, you wonder how you ever survived apart when it was so clear that your souls were really just one.

You break away panting. God knows how long you were indulging, but you just about jump out of your skin when you realize Phoenix is in the kitchen right behind you, pouring herself a glass of champagne.

Your cheeks warm. “Nat!”

“Sorry, didn’t bother me, so I didn’t want to bother you.” She shrugs. “Want a glass?”

You decline, and you and Bradley shuffle out of the kitchen like teenagers caught in the act. Nearly everyone is shrugging their coats on, chatting about the night, when they catch sight of the two of you.

“Now, just where in the hell did y’all run off to?” Jake prods.

You can’t even look at them.

“Just the kitchen,” Rooster says, locking his hand in yours. “Needed to make sure the champagne was still flowing.”

Everyone shares the same knowing look that makes you want to shove them all out the door. Instead, you and Bradley post up at the door like perfect hosts and thank everyone for coming as they slip into the surprisingly chilly night. Then, only you, Bradley, and Phoenix are left.

While everyone was saying their goodbyes, she was sipping her champagne and quietly wiping sugar, gingerbread crumbs, and crusted frosting off the dining table.

“You bitch,” you say as you swoop in to help her clean up. “How come you didn’t tell me as soon as you found out?”

She laughs and takes another sip of wine. “Why don’t you ask Rooster?”

You raise your eyebrows at him. He sheepishly grins.

“In my defense,” he says, “it was a really good surprise.”

“I can’t believe you two.” You laugh. “But thank you for the surprise. It was wonderful.”

You try to direct your gratitude to them both, but something in Rooster’s expression snags your gaze and won’t let go. There’s still an unsatiated hunger heavy in his eyes.

Nat sets down her now empty glass. “Alright, lovebirds, I’ll take that as my cue to leave.”

She gathers her things, and you walk her to the door.

“Thank you.” You give her a hug. Neither of you are super touchy, but your gratitude for her tonight is almost endless. “Thank you for everything.”

“Don’t mention it.” She squeezes you tight before letting go. “Goodnight, Rooster!”

“Goodnight!” He calls from somewhere deep in the house.

“Sounds like he’s waiting for you,” she winks. “See you soon.”

“Get home safe!”

And with that, it’s just the two of you. You expect Bradley to pounce the second the door closes, but he doesn’t appear as you linger by the doorway. Odd. You check the kitchen, living room, and dining room. All empty.

“Bradley?” You call.

“Right here.”

His response floats from down the hallway, from your bedroom.

And sure enough, there he stands in the doorway. Right under the mistletoe you hung up earlier in the week, the biggest grin on your face when you pictured his homecoming some time after New Years, all the Christmas decorations gone except the lonely mistletoe, waiting patiently for his arrival. But now, you can put the mistletoe to good use while Christmas is still bright on the horizon. The warmth of the season bleeds into the warmth of your kiss. Christmas will come as surely as it would have if Bradley was on deployment, but now you welcome it. You want lazy days sipping eggnog and baking cookies. You want late, festive nights at the Hard Deck with the Daggers, getting into pool competitions with Bradley as your loyal teammate despite how disastrous you are at pool, assured in his easy we-lose-together attitude. You want a Christmas morning with presents that don’t matter because the best gift you could ask for has already appeared right by your tree tonight, wrapped in a bow.

“Don’t leave me ever again,” you whisper against his chest.

“I won’t,” he says, “I won’t.”

You both know it’s not something you can ask of him, not a promise he can keep. It’s not fair to either of you to pretend like this will be his last homecoming, the last time you both are starved of each other for months. But right now, it feels good to pretend.

You can’t think long about his future deployments, however. Your worries melt away as Bradley makes good on his promise to give you the best mistletoe kiss the world’s ever seen.

#bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw #top gun maverick fanfiction #rooster fluff #bradley bradshaw fluff

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roosterbruiser · 1 year

Text

today I will be:

-posting VV11

-fixing the links on the VV masterlist

-writing + posting CS3

-fixing the CS masterlist

real talk tho, today has been so icky for so many people in this fandom! just want to spread love + tell everyone here that I'm a big fan of you!

pls feel free to send all Cruel Summer thots also

Spotify

in the mood to start drama (clickbait)

#millie writes #cruel summer #voulez-vous #nightingale #hangster love triangle #cherry x rooster

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sweetlittlegingy · 1 year

Text

Callsign Cherry Masterlist

🍒 Pairing: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Y/N 'Cherry' Bishop, Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Y/n 'Cherry' Bishop

★ Fluff ❊ Angst ✓ Smut

🍒 A/n: I'm excited about this one! It's a lot different from my normal work, but I hope you guys love it just the same. (repost) The chapter list/layout is subject to change.

🍒 Callsign Cherry Playlist

Library | Masterlist

You Can Only Blame Yourself (prologue)

The Monster You Created

In The Mood for Chaos

I Simply Am, Feel Free to Tremble

See You in Hell

#Callsign Cherry 🍒#jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #top gun: maverick #top gun maverick #top gun #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #jake seresin x you #bradley bradshaw x you #jake hangman seresin x you #Bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x reader #jake seresin x reader #tgm #tgm fic #tgm imagine #gingy library #gingy writes

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cherrycola27 · 2 years

Text

Green- Eyed Rooster

Paring: Rooster x Y/N "Cherry" Bradshaw

Warnings: Language, drinking, dick jokes, mentions of adult items. Smut, jealousy kink, semi-public sex, brat kink, brat tamer, authority kink, orgasm denial, porn with plot. Minors DNI, 18+n, seriously SMUT

Author's Note: Yall I have to say this might be the best fic I have ever posted on Tumblr, and if if doesn't blow up and blow your minds I swear I might just stop writing. God I love it so much and I hope everyone else does as well!

"How did I end up in this situation?" You thought. Tonight was supposed to fun, a celebration. You and your friends were supposed to be out celebrating Phoenix who in a few days would become Mrs. Hangman as you all liked to joke. Most people would think a joint Bachelor/ Bachelorette party at your favorite bar was a crazy idea, but to the Dagger fam, it was the only way.

So, why weren't you inside doing shots with the rest of your friends? Why instead of singing karaoke where you gasping for breath with your skirt bunched up around your hips? Why were you being pressed against the outside rear wall of the Hard Deck instead of leaned up against a pool table? Why instead of a beer bottle pressed to your lips, you found yourself with your tongue in your husband's mouth?

The answer? Something you liked to call "Green-Eyed Rooster"

Let's stop and take a moment to recall the events that lead you to this exact position. Events that started ages before even you and Rooster were married, back in the days when your relationship was just beginning, yes, let's start there.

Six years ago, you became an elite Top Gun Graduate, and not just any Graduate, the top of your class. Lt. Y/N "Cherry" Anderson the plaque read as it was handed to you, your face beaming with pride. Just to your right was your wingman, and second in class Lt. Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw.

You smiled at him as he caught your eye while people were congratulating you on your top finish. After the ceremony you saw him weave through the crowd and stop to talk to another Navy man, your eyes widen when you saw it was the legendary Pete "Maverick" Mitchell.

You had hoped to speak to Rooster after, you see during the 13 week program you may or may not have developed some feelings for the mustached man, and now that it was finally over you wanted to ask him on a date, however, you also didn't want to be rude and disturb his conversation with the man you would later find our was his Godfather.

You turned on your heels only to be met with a wall of man. "Cherry, baby, congratulations." Lt. Kyle "Flash" Malcolm said in his thick New Jersey accent.

"Thanks Flash." You replied quickly trying to get away from him. You didn't like the way he was looking at you. Flash was one of those guys, who despite the very strict no fraternization rule in place at Top Gun, would not stop hitting on you. And every time he did you reminded him of it.

"Listen Cher, now that we have graduated the rule doesn't apply to us anymore, so what'd'ya say youse and me get outta here huh? Let me take you on that date now?" He asked with a wink.

You internally rolled your eyes. You knew you couldn't give him the same excuse that had worked the past three months and he knew that too. Little did both of you know that a certain sandy haired man had been watching, waiting for the right moment to ask his wingman out, and he was not happy that jerk from Jersey was trying to weasel his way in.

Rooster quickly excused himself from Maverick and cleared the distance between the two of you in three strides. You gasped when you felt his arm slide comfortably around your waste. You looked up at him with a questioning glance. He looked back down and shot you a wink.

"Sorry Flash, Cherry and I have plans this evening. Now that we have graduated, wanted to take my wingman out for some drinks and a proper date. Spent three months waiting to ask her, because rules, and I don't plan on waiting any longer." Rooster stated before whisking you away to join him and Maverick.

"Thank you for that Roos, you would think after me telling him no several times he would take the hint. Once he is gone, I will leave you and Captain Mitchell to your plans." You replied

"Cherry, I believe I said I was going to take you on a proper date, and I plan to do just that. I meant it, I've been waiting patiently and I am done. I wasn't just trying to help you get out of an awkward situation, I want everyone in this whole damn class to know you're mine." He whispered in your ear before Maverick found you two.

You silently gulped. Little did you know, this would be the first time you got a taste of Roosters jealous streak, and when that man saw green, especially when it came to his girl, heaven help the person who tried to stand in his way.

The second time you saw the green eyed monster appear on Roosters shoulders was about six months into your relationship. You two had some how both been stationed on the East Coast, your first placement after graduation. You both had the afternoon off and decided to head to a local bar with some of the fellow pilots that had been stationed there.

You were thankful that you had made friends with another woman aviator Natasha "Phoenix" Trace. She had gone through Top Gun the year before you and she was amazed that you had graduated top of your class. She talked about how some asshole who was a Ken Doll come to life named Hangman, who she joked should be called Bagman, was the top of hers.

You, Phoenix, and Rooster were enjoying the night with some other pilots and having a good time. You had decided to grab another round. While waiting at the bar some drunk tried hitting on you. You knew how to handle drunk men, and Rooster also knew you could hold your ground. He was never one to try and fight your battles, but he always watched just incase someone tried something stupid, which is exactly what that man did.

After several attempts to get you to join him, and many a firm "No" on your part, the drunk patron grabbed your bicep and tried to physically pull you away from the bar.

You didn't have to look behind you to know that Rooster was about to hand this man his ass on a silver platter. Instead of fighting him you simply looked at him and said "Oh buddy, you just made a big mistake, a really big mistake, huge!" You laughed.

"What the fuck do you just say to me?" The man slurred before a strong set of hands spun the man around and lifted him by his collar. Startled, he let got of your arm.

"I believe my girl said you made a big mistake by putting your hands on her. So you have two choices here buddy" Rooster sneered at the man. "You either apologize to her, close your tab and leave of your own free will, or I break your nose and toss you out of here. Your choice."

The man looked between you and Rooster. "M...my... my apologies ma'am." He stammered out before throwing some money on the bar and quiet literally running away.

"Roos, you didn't have to do that." You told him as he gave you the once over.

"Whose name is around your neck baby?" He asked gesturing to the rose gold necklace he had given you for your six month anniversary.

"Yours." You sighed. "Exactly Cherry. My name. You are mine, and I always protect what's mine. Let's get out of here." He stated firmly before grabbing your hand and leading you out of the bar.

That night he reminded you seven times that you did infact belong to him, and honestly there's no other way you would have it.

As your relationship progressed, Rooster's jealous side seemed to die down until one of his buddies *cough cough* Hangman decided to rile him up about you during training for a top secret Uranium Plant mission you had both been recalled to fly. During a class Hangman made the comment asking if Rooster "had popped his Cherry" while winking at you or if he needed to show him how it was done. If it hadn't have been for you, Bob, Phoenix, and Maverick holding him back, Hangman would have been a dead man.

But now, thankfully Hangman and Rooster were on much better terms. After the mission you and Roostet tied the knot with the Daggers and a few others present and the cherry popping jokes were much more light hearted. A few months after the two of you got married Jake and Tasha decided that maybe all the hate they had for each other was something more, turns out it was. And now a year later, the two were about to get married themselves, which brings us to present day, about three hours before you found yourself being felt up behind the Hard Deck.

"Another round of shots ladies!" You cheer placing the tray of glasses down on the table. You, Phoenix and her other bridesmaids all grab a glass. "To the bride, who has to be one bad bitch for deciding that she is going to put up with Hangman for the rest of her life!" You toast. "And to Cherry! The best fucking friend and Marton of Honor a girl could ask for!" Tasha adds before you all click glasses and down the round.

"I really can't believe you're getting married next weekend!" You squeeze Phoenix's hand before pouring more champagne for her and the girls. You look across the bar to find Jake and the other Dagger boys drinking and playing pool. Rooster looks up ands shoots you a wink, you wave back before resuming your groups festivities.

"Oh Halo, before I forget, pass me that bag!" You squeal as she passes it to you. The other girls giggle knowing what it is.

"Cherry Bradshaw I swear if this is a dildo I will cut your fuel lines." Phoenix states before opening the bag.

"It's not I promise" you grin as she opens it.

Phoenix reaches in the bag and pulls out a navy blue shirt that reads "Mrs. Hangman" on the front. "Haha very funny guys." Tasha says. "Look at the back Tash." You state taking another sip of bubbly.

She shoots you a warning glance before turning the shirt around. "CHERRY!" She screeches when she reads the back which says "Same PhoeDICK forever"

"You had it coming girl! Remember all those 'cherry popping jokes' you and Bagman made not too long ago, or the sash you made me wear about 'Marrying a Rooster, same COCK til I die'? Hmm ma'am?" You and the other girls laugh. "Shouldn't have dished it out if you couldn't take it." You joke leaning back into the booth.

"Okay fine, I guess I deserved that one." Phoenix replies stuffing the shirt back into the bag.

"Hangman's is worse." You quip just as the cheers erupted from the other side of the bar and Rooster gives you a thumbs up.

"Great." Phoenix rolls her eyes as she notices her fiancée turn a deep red shade.

"Uh oh," Phoenix's cousin Melissa states holding up the empty champagne bottle. "All out of bubbly" She giggles. All of you were definitely tipsy. Several rounds of shots had been sent your way by some desperate men hoping to land a single bridesmaid and the seven of you had gone through three bottles of bubbly. Thankfully no one had to worry about a ride home because Bob, who never drank, and Maverick who was like a father figure to you all may have borrow (read stolen) a couple of Navy vans to transport you at the end of the night safely.

"This looks like a Matron of Honor job!" You declared taking the empty bottle from Melissa and heading up to the bar to ask Penny for a new one.

While the two Dagger parties were going on, Penny still had customers to take care of so you waited. While standing there and younger man in service khakis walked up to you.

"Oh great you" thought. Maybe he would just be nice and make small talk you hoped. You shot a glance over to the pool tables, thankfully your husband was locked in a game and not looking your way. You definitely didn't want "Green Eye Rooster" to make an appearance tonight.

"Hey there honey." The Navy man asked you.

"Hi." You responded quickly, not wanting to give him any footing to continue this conversation.

"Noticed you and your friends over there celebrating your girl who is getting married... how about you let me buy yalls next round?" He said stepping closer to you.

"Oh you don't have to do that." You respond waving him off. "Well, how bought I just buy your next one?" He asks getting much closer to you than you are comfortable. Ugh... why did he have to do this. Poor kid was just asking for Rooster to whip his ass.

"No thanks. I am married, happily married." You state showing him your wedding rings, praying he will leave you alone.

"Set of rings never stopped me before. Plus honey I could make it worth your while. See here, I'm a Naval aviator. In the Top Gun program here, makes me the best of the best. I could take you for a ride if you want?" The pilot asked, his voice dripping in sex.

"Wow, Top Gun, you must think you are really special then huh?" You begin sarcasticly. "Well Lieutenant, I will have you know I graduated top of my clas at Top Gun, beat my husband actually, so you being in the program doesn't impress me." You tell him heat rising in your body.

"Well guess we could always try to see who the better pilot is." He winked. Jesus what is with this guy?

"Look, I'm going to tell you this one more time... I am not interested. I know there are plenty of young civilian girls who are just dying for you to waltz them into a stupor with your Navy charm, cocky grin and big ego that is just enough to scratch the daddy issues that they have. But I, on the other hand am HAPPILY MARRIED, and my husband is not afraid to kick your ass." You finish with a huff.

"Well sweetie all I'm saying is I don't see your 'husband' around here." The man challenges.

"Turn around then." Roosters voice comes from low in his chest as the pilot turns around.

"Now you see him." Rooster almost growls as he stares the man down.

"Captain Bradshaw." You hear the pilot whisper as he is face to face with Rooster. All the bravado and ego is now long gone.

"I'm sorry, I, I had no idea she was your wife..." he stutters. You look at your husband and see the fire in his eyes, jealousy blooms through his body.

"You should be sorry." Rooster states as he clenches his fists. "I should break your face, and kick you out of the program." He tells him. "Rooster." You warn him. "He's not worth it. Not tonight." You tell him.

"You're lucky I'm in a good mood here with my friends. But I swear to God Lieutenant, if you ever so much at look at my WIFE again, you'll be sorry. Now leave." Rooster says through gritted teeth.

The pilot quickly gathers his things, pays his tab and leaves.

You grab Roosters hands which are still balled up. "Babe, calm down, this is supposed to be a fun night. Take a breath." You tell him.

You can still see the rage just behind his eyes. He had gotten himself worked up and you know exactly how it ends.

"I'm not leaving." You state before the words can even leave his mouth. "I wasn't planning on leaving either babe." He tells you with an ere of calm in his voice.

He's calm, too calm as a wicked glem flashes across his eyes.

"Oh no mister." You state crossing your arms.

"I'm going to get some air out back. I expect you to join me in five." He whispers in your ear before pushing through the crowd.

"Well fuck" you think. Once again the green eyed monster had possessed your husband, and the only way to get him over it, was to fuck it out of him.

You looked down at your phone. You know he said five minutes, but the wetness between your thighs told you that you couldn't wait that long.

You quickly checked to make sure no one was looking and had one of the waitresses working that night take the bottle over to your table. All the ladies were drunk enough, you hoped they wouldn't think much of your absence.

You quietly slipped outside once you had determined no one was paying attention. Outside in the dimly lit alley, you called out for your husband.

"Rooster? Babe where are you." He didn't answer, he didn't have to. You felt his presence behind you moments later. The warmth radiating off his body, the spicy-sweet smell of his colonge flooding your nose, the scrape of his mustache against your ear as he growled "I thought I told you to wait five minutes before coming out here. It's only be three."

"My apologies.... Captain. I didn't want yo keep you waiting." Ugh... there you had gone and used his rank. You knew exactly how much that drove him crazy, how much it pushed his buttons, how much it turned him on.

You weren't necessarily trying to be a brat, but when Bradley was wound tight like this, you couldn't help it. And your bratty attitude is exactly how you found yourself in your current situation.

"Someone's being a brat tonight." He grumbled giving your ass a harsh spank which caused you to yelp.

You turned around to face him. "If anyone is being a brat tonight, it's you Bradley. Got yourself all worked up, can't even wait until we get home to have me." You state as you brush your hand over the growing bulge in his jeans.

Oh, you were so fucked now. Not only had you called him out, you had used his government name. You knew that was going to cause some wires to short circuit in his brain, but you loved it. You loved this little game you two played. Maybe you were a brat... good thing Rooster was an expert tamer.

Before you could blink he curled his fingers under the necklace that bared his name around your throat and pulled you into him. He roughly pressed his mouth against yours, forcing his tongue in, not waiting for permission.

His larger framed pinned you against the outside wall. He pulled away for a moment. In the light you could just make out how pupils were blown with lust and the slight flush across him.

"Oh honey." He spoke almost sweetly. "I think someone forgot who they belong to and needs a reminder. I think maybe this while damn bar might need one." He stated still holding you in place by your jewelry.

You flashed him a wicked smile before saying "Well go on then, remind me."

You saw the corners of your husband's mouth twitch up into a smile before he sealed his lips over yours once again. He hoisted you up by your thighs and wrapped your legs around his waist. God you loved it when he man handled you.

He pressed you further into the wall and you felt his rock hard length against your aching core.

"Someone's eager." You whispered in his ear as he pulled his mouth away from yours and assaulted your neck with kisses. You felt his lips attach to the sensitive spot right behind your ear as he sucked a mark into.

"Roos," you let out a breathy complaint. "If I go back in there all marked up, everyone will know what we did while we were gone."

His lips left your skin and ghosted next to your ear "Exactly" he moaned out before kissing you again. One of his large hands left its place on your waist and slipped under your skirt. You felt the breath leave your lungs when he trailed his fingers over soaked material of your panties.

"Looks like I'm not the only one who is eager." He laughed.

"What can I say? Jealous Rooster is hot as fuck. It does things to me." You reply.

"Then why don't you show me exactly how hot you think it is then princess?" He stated setting you down.

You hold eye contact with him not giving in to what he wants. "And what exactly did you have in mind sir?" You challenged cocking your head to the side. You knew exactly what he wanted, but there was no way you were going to make it easy.

"Get on your knees." He commanded. You slowly sank down, thankful that your skirt was long enough to cover your kneecaps from the concrete.

You looked back up at him with big doe eyes ad he waited for you to take him in your mouth.

"Well... I did what you asked. Now what?" You teased. God you were such a brat right now.

Rooster growled and hooked his finger under your chin pulling you back to your feet as he pinned you yet again. You laughed despite it all.

"You think this is funny? You think being a fucking brat is something to laugh at? Maybe I should just fuck that laugh right out of you. Take you so hard you cry and mess up your pretty make up? It that what you want?" He asks darkly.

You look back at him. You can see on his face that the last ounce of resolve he has is quickly slipping away. One more tiny act of defiance and he would release all that jealous, green eyed monster filled rage out on you and turn it into some of the best sex you had ever had. All you had to do was push.

"If you wanted to fuck the brat out of me you would have done it by now."

You could have sworn you heard something snap inside him. Before you could push any further both of your hands were pinned above your head, trapped in his strong grip. His hands and yanked your panties down your legs and somehow he had managed to get them all the way off of you and he stuff them in his back pocket.

He wasted no time plunging two fingers deep into your core. A moan left your lips as you felt him curl the thick digits inside you and stroke that spongy area that would have tou seeing starts in a matter of minutes.

"Oh fuck." You moan out as he plunged them in and out of your wetness. It should be embarrassing how wet and worked up you already were, but Rooster knew exactly how to get your motor going.

He pushed further into you past his knuckles. You could feel the cool metal of metal of his wedding band against your burning skin.

"Oh, yes, yes baby just like that." You moaned as he scissored your walls. You legs quaked around his hips. If he hadn't had you pinned against the wall you surely would have melted to the ground.

You could feel your desire pooling deep in the pit of your stomach. Your cunt clenched around his fingers trying to pull them deeper into you with each of this thrusts. His thumb found your clit and he began to draw harsh circles on it.

"Fuck yes, yes, yes Rooster, thats it daddy, feels so fucking good" you moaned. He hummed back in response. His body was invading your space as he finger fucked you. All you could do, see, think, smell, feel was him.

"Roos, so close, please, please" you begged as the pleasure builded. Just a few more pumps of his hand, a deeper curl of his fingers, some more harsh strokes of your clit and you would be a cumming shaking mess.

But then, just as you were about to reach the precipice of your pleasure, the mother fucker stopped.

"Ahhh" you cried out at the sudden loss of contact. You quickly tried to grind yourself down on his hand but he pulled it away.

"Ah, ah, ah" He tutted. "Brats don't get to cum on my fingers. But if you can be a good girl, maybe I will let you cum on my cock." He tipped your face up to look at him.

God what a sight you were. Your hair had fallen from its high ponytail and strands of it fluttered around you face. Your favorite red lipstick was smeared across your swollen lips. Your cheeks were flushed with desire and your eyes were glassed over and hazy with pleasure. Seeing you like this did wonders for Rooster's ego because he knew that he was the only person who could wind you up like this.

He let go of your hands and quickly undid his belt and unfastened his jeans. He pushed them and his boxers down just enough for his cock to spring free.

He teased the head of it through your extremely sensitive folds.

"B..bb...Bradley please don't tease me... nn...nn..need you so bad." You stammered out.

He slipped just the head into your aching core. "You going to stop being a brat? Gonna be my good girl?" He asked teasing the head in and out of your weeping hole.

"Yes." You breathed out desperate for his touch and the orgasm you were denied.

"Yes what?" He asks pulling back out.

"Yes Sir Captain Bradshaw. Want to be your good girl." You moan out as you feel more of him push in.

"Fuuuuuuck" you groan out once he is fully seated inside you. No matter how many times Rooster has had sex with you, you still can't get over just how far he stretches you. He fills you to the point where it is almost painful, almost.

He begins a slow rhythm, like he has all the time in the world. Like you two are somewhere private and alone when in reality you are just outside the bar which is filled with people.

"Rooster please faster!" You beg. While his lazy strokes are nice, you need him to fuck you hard and fast. Being so close and having him jerk it away from you has you on edge and you just need to cum. He knows this. He knows exactly what he is doing to you.

"Well since you said please." He states as he picks up his pace. His strokes come fast and deep. The thick head of his dick reaching that special spot deep inside you and grazing it over and over again.

It feels so good, he feels so good. You thank God everyday that this man is your husband.

His grip on your hip tightens as he continues to push into you fast and deep, fast and deep. Your toes curl into your sandals as your thighs tighten around him.

"Oh God, fuck, Rooster right there... feels so good." You moan out as he pulls out and pushes all the way back in.

You can hear the sounds of your wetness as his cock travels through your folds. Its pornographic, sinful, amazing.

"You're so close aren't you baby?" He moans into your ear. "Can feel how tight you are gripping me. You pretty little pussy is so fucking needy for me. Wants me to make it cum so bad doesn't it?" He asks in a condensing tone.

"Yes, I, please, need, ugh, Bradley." You can't form a coherent sentence. All you want is him to get you off , to make you scream, to turn you into a puddling mess... no, you don't want it, you need it.

"Look at you, my little brat, so needy you can't even talk." He groans before absolutely pounding into you.

You can't help but scream. It's all too much and not enough at the same time. His left hand drops to your clit and strokes it.

"Yesyesyesyes" you cry out, too far gone to care if anyone hears you or not. "That's it, honey, come on, cum for me. Who is making you feel this good? Who do you belong to?" He pushes just before you reach your crescendo.

"YOU ROOSTER, I FUCKING BELONG TO YOU" you scream out before euphoria washed over you. You screw your eyes shut as a white light erupts behind them. You throw your head back as tears fall from your eyes and you scream his name until you throat is raw.

He continues to push into you drawing out your high until he falls over the edge, you walls gripping him and milking his cock dry.

As you both come down from the high it takes you both a minute to catch your breath. He presses his forehead to yours as you both pant heavily.

"Fuck Cherry." He curses looking at you. You are both wrecked.

You can't help but laugh.

He slowly pulls out of you. You both wince at the loss of contact. You quickly try to clamp your thighs shut.

"Rooster. I need my panties back." You state not wanting your mixed release to start flowing down your legs.

He pulls them from his pocket and dangles them infront of you.

"Maybe I should keep these. Then everyone in there would for sure know who's girl you are." He winks. You snatch them from his hand and slip them back on and attempt to makes yourself presentable again.

But it's no use, the minute you walk back in there, everyone is going to know what the two of you did, and you bet you ass they are going to know without a doubt you are Roosters girl.

Tag List: @dreamingathighaltitude @shanimallina87 @luckyladycreator2 @rosiahills22

#top gun maverick #top gun #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #rooster top gun #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw smut #rooster smut #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #top gun smut #lt. bradley bradshaw #top gun rooster #top gun 2 #tgm #tgm smut

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roosterforme · 1 year

Text

A Love You Don't Find Everyday Part 6 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You and Bradley skip work to spend the day celebrating Goose's birthday. Bradley appreciates everything you do to make him a priority.

Warnings: Fluff, swearing and smut

Length: 3400 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

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Bradley was still pretty useless in the kitchen. Whenever he offered to help you cook, you always tried to give him some easy tasks to keep him busy. But for Nick Bradshaw's birthday dinner preparation, you let him be an active participant.

"Here's how you clean the shrimp," you told him, showing him what to do. He caught on quickly, and you let him finish it for you while you moved on to the pasta and vegetables. "Nice job."

He responded by kissing your neck while you cut up some cherry tomatoes.

"And then, for dessert," you said with a smirk, "we can finish the confetti cake. I'm sure it was probably your dad's favorite."

"I can guarantee it was not," Bradley replied with a laugh. "Apparently he loved strawberry shortcake."

You turned and looked at him. "Roo, why didn't you ever tell me that?!"

He smiled and shrugged. "Just remembered it just now. I don't think my mom liked it that much, but strawberry shortcake always made her smile. She told me he liked it."

You started rooting through the refrigerator, searching for some strawberries you hoped were still fresh. "Yes," you muttered, also grabbing everything you would need to make whipped cream. "Here, put your big, strong arms to good use, and whip these together."

You finished making shrimp with pasta and garlic sauce while Bradley made the whipped cream and cut up strawberries. He didn't even complain when you used the confetti cake as the bottom of the strawberry shortcake.

Bradley pulled you into his lap at the table and rubbed slow, lazy patterns across your lower back as you both ate Goose's birthday dinner and spoke softly through the scant memories Bradley had of his father.

"This cake is less disgusting with the strawberries and whipped cream," Bradley commented, shoveling the dessert into his mouth. "I think I actually kind of like it."

"We'll serve it like this then. At the wedding," you said between bites of berries and cake. "It is good."

"Thanks, Goose," Bradley cheered. "Next stop, powder blue cumberbunds."

You were still cracking up as Bradley led you toward the piano, and you clumsily helped him play the birthday song with Tramp in your lap.

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

Calling out of work was your best idea ever. Bradley felt close to you again after this weekend. Just in time for you to go to Annapolis, of course. But he could hardly make a fuss when he left you home alone for months at a time.

"I like this one the best," you informed him after dinner, holding up a wedding photo of Nick Bradshaw with his arms wrapped around Carole.

"I'm pretty sure my mom was already pregnant when they got married."

"Yeah? I was thinking the same thing, since they got married in November. I wonder if they knew or not?"

Bradley shrugged and shook his head. "I wish I could ask her now. But she was so smart and organized, she must have known."

"Hmmm, my parents also got married in November. Too bad we don't have enough time to plan something for this November, but we could try for next year?"

Bradley could feel his face fall. He didn't want to wait fourteen months! "Is that what you want?" he asked softly, but you just shrugged in response as some other photos caught your eye.

"Bradley! What is this?" you shrieked. You were holding up the worst photo of himself he had ever seen, and he groaned, trying to grab it from your hand.

"My own worst nightmare, Sweetheart."

"Look at your braces!" you gasped, examining the photo.

"And my acne. And my hair that for some reason I insisted needed to be dyed blond." Bradley tried one more time to take the photo away from you, but you jumped to your feet and checked the date on the back.

"Wow, fourteen was not a good age for you, Roo," you teased. "But what a sinful looking morsel you turned out to be!"

Now Bradley was also on his feet, stalking you around the kitchen island as you laughed. You stopped with the island between you both and grinned at him. "I would have had a massive crush on you back then, too."

"Don't lie to me," Bradley growled with narrowed eyes.

"I'm not! I was into the frosted tips," you said, holding up the photo and tapping his awful hairstyle.

Bradley lunged around the island and managed to grab you before you could get away. "I have a great idea," he whispered in your ear while you squealed. "How about we follow in Goose and Carole's footsteps and get married with you knocked up?"

He scooped you up into his arms and buried his face into the side of your neck. "I'm actually the opposite of knocked up, Bradley. My period started this morning, and I'm crampy."

He kissed along your jaw and cheek, whispering, "I still want you. Please? Gonna miss you while you're away."

You would be flying to Maryland on Saturday morning, a day earlier than everyone else you worked with, so you could spend the whole day on Sunday with your parents.

He knew you weren't usually a big fan of sex at the start of your period. You always thought you looked bloated, but he couldn't care less. He wanted you every day of every month.

But he held you in his arms, and you wrapped your legs around his waist, whispering, "Yes. How about in the shower?"

Bradley carried you in the direction of your bathroom, and he set you down gently on the vanity counter, kissing your cheek before he got the shower warmed up and ready.

You watched him test the temperature, and then he unwrapped one of your peppermint aromatherapy pods and tossed it into the bottom of the shower.

"You know, Roo, I am very spoiled."

He just turned and looked at you as he got some fresh towels out of the closet. "Don't you forget it, Baby Girl."

You smiled as he took his phone out and queued up the massively long playlist of love songs that he had made for you.

"Are your cramps really bad?" he asked, returning to the counter and starting to lift the hem of your shirt. He guided it up over your body and dropped it to the floor

"Not too terrible," you whispered when Bradley's big hands drifted to your back and unhooked your bra. He watched every inch of your breasts as they were exposed to him.

"Orgasms can help with cramps, Sweetheart," he told you in a very serious voice. "It's science." Bradley watched your head tip back as he ran his thumbs softly over your nipples. You spread your thighs for him to stand between your legs.

"You say that every time we have period sex. I'm not so sure I believe you." When he dipped his head to taste your tits, you moaned and held onto the back of his head. "Roo."

"I love you," he whispered against your skin. He pulled you to your feet and undressed you down to your panties, but then you stepped out of his grasp.

"Give me a minute while you get undressed?"

Bradley nodded while you used the toilet and then scampered under the warm spray of water. He removed his clothing, guiding his pants and underwear over his erection and stepping out of them. He watched you run your hands over your body through the glass doors as they started to haze over with steam.

He was palming his cock, absentmindedly stroking himself and inhaling the minty air as you turned to look at him. The smirk on your face as you squeezed your tits had him pumping himself a little harder. Your eyes were half lidded and needy as your hands traveled lower on your body.

"You're so fucking gorgeous, Baby Girl," he growled. "Do you have any idea how much I wanted you from the first moment I saw you?"

"Roo," you whined, your soft voice echoing through the bathroom over the sound of the water. "Come here." You were opening the door and reaching for him, pulling him inside with your warm, wet hands.

You pulled him against you, your lips pressed to his and your hands around his neck. "I love you," you told him. "More than my job. More than anything."

Bradley pushed you back against the tile wall, using one big hand on your ass and one on your back to keep you from getting too cold. "That's all I need to hear."

Your eyes drifted closed as he rubbed his mustache along your neck and kneaded his hands into your back.

Bradley loved everything about your body. It felt and looked perfect to him. But it didn't even compare with the rest of you.

"Do you know what my favorite thing about you is?" he asked, still teasing his lips and mustache along your skin.

"Tell me," you whispered, combing your fingers through his wet hair.

"You tell it like it is. You don't sugarcoat anything. Not even for me."

You laughed, and the sound was muffled from the hot steam and the shower enclosure. "Especially not for you. That's how you can tell you are loved."

Bradley looked at the smile on your face as he pulled his right hand from behind your ass and let it travel to the soft skin below your belly button.

"But physically? I love the way your cheeks look when you smile. This curve...right here," he whispered, running his nose along your cheek and kissing it. "And I love the sounds you make when I do this."

His fingers slipped down until he was teasing your clit, the water from the shower mixing with your arousal on his fingertips. He didn't care that you had your period. Honestly, he'd even love it if you were pregnant right now. But mostly, he wanted to know that you needed him in all of the ways that he needed you.

"Mmm, Bradley," you moaned as he teased. "Please, Roo." You were panting softly, head tipped back against the tile.

"Yeah... all those little sounds. Gonna think about them when I jerk off next week when you're away."

Bradley slid his fingers inside you, feeling your warmth and your extra wetness.

"You think about me?" you asked, trying to focus on him with your half lidded eyes as you gasped.

He fucked you harder with his fingers, his dick rubbing against your belly. "I think about you all the time, Baby Girl. I think about you when I'm flying, when I'm working out, and always when I'm getting myself off."

You were clinging onto his shoulders now, riding his hand. "I didn't know that," you whispered as your voice shook.

"Don't play with me, Sweetheart. That's why you made me that calendar. That's why you send me dirty pictures. That's why you make videos with me. You make sure you're always on my mind. Fuck, Baby Girl!"

Bradley hoised your left leg over his hip and slid his length inside you. "You're proud of yourself, aren't you? Made it so I can only want you. Mission accomplished, Sweetheart."

You smirked at him, looking very smug as he eased himself deeper before withdrawing slowly. Bradley watched you nibble on your lip and nod. "Yeah, I'm proud of myself."

He mashed his lips against yours and fucked you hard against the shower wall, lacing his fingers through yours, rubbing your engagement ring.

You felt wet and warm and so good to him, gripping him tighter as you got close to your orgasm.

Bradley was close, too. The peppermint scent and the hot steam added another layer of excitement for his senses.

"You gonna cum for me?" he grunted, his face buried against your wet hair and neck as he held your bouncing tit and slammed into you.

Your whining noises and your firm grip on his body were your only answer as he came, fucking his cum deeper into you. He promised he would take care of you as he stroked you with his thumb until you were crying out.

Then Bradley washed your body and his, caressing you in all of the places where you were soft and feminine compared to him. He washed your hair, using all of the products in the correct order, earning him praise.

"I'm so used to you being with me, and knowing how you do things," he whispered. "Not sure what I would do if you weren't with me."

You kissed him softly as he rinsed you. "I'm with you, Roo."

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

Tuesday morning was hectic. You spent hours in your office working on your presentation. But you did manage to run to the cafeteria at noon and spend a solid twenty minutes eating with Bradley, Jake, Phoenix, and Fanboy.

With an apology, you stood to leave, and you kissed Bradley solidly on the lips in front of all of them. "I love you. I'll call you if I'm going to be late tonight," you told him, stroking the corner of his mustache.

Jake catcalled, "Get a room, Angel." You threw a plastic fork at him while Bradley blushed.

"Bye, guys," you called, stealing the cookie off of Jake's tray and running away with it.

If they were still making fun of you and Bradley for kissing in front of them, they were going to die if they ever saw the wedding gift you planned to get while you were in Annapolis.

Of course you ran into your boss in the elevator while you were eating the cookie and wiping chocolate crumbs off of your uniform.

"Sir," you mumbled, trying to finish swallowing your food, wishing you had grabbed a napkin.

"Lieutenant. I just emailed you the final itinerary for next week. Let me know if you see any discrepancies. There's a group dinner planned for Thursday evening after our presentation. But I also wanted to extend an invitation for you to join me on Friday evening for drinks and a late dinner with Captain Francis and Admirals Jennings and Prince. I know we have early flights home on Saturday morning, but I think you should come."

Your eyes were bugging out. You just knew you must look ridiculous. Your heart was pounding, and you thought you were going to throw up. Admiral Jennings was the highest ranking woman in the Atlantic fleet.

"You're taking me with you to eat a meal with Admiral Tasha Jennings?"

Captain Bickel nodded as you both exited the elevator and headed toward the lab. "If you would like to come."

"Yeah!" you almost shouted. "Yes, sir. I would like that."

He must have been used to you by now, because he just nodded and agreed to send you the details.

"Holy shit, holy shit," you muttered, tapping your fingers along the counter as you logged into your computer.

You were so excited, you couldn't wait to tell Bradley. But now you were going to need to run to the mall to buy another dress suitable for dinner with some admirals. Admirals! More than one!

Now you were thinking about Admirals. You sucked in a sharp breath and started laughing. Your mind had drifted to getting railed by Bradley on Admiral Simpson's hotel room desk. And then you could barely focus at all.

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

Bradley was sitting on the floor, playing tug of war with Tramp and waiting for you to get home. It was so late. Again. But he wasn't going to get upset.

You had called him this time, and told him you had exciting news. He didn't know what you meant, because you sounded rushed, but you said you would bring dinner with you.

"Bradley!" you shouted, bursting through the front door at nearly eight o'clock.

He watched you drop a garment bag on the floor and rush toward him with a paper bag full of what looked to be takeout.

"You okay?" he asked, but you set down the food and plopped down into his lap.

"So good." You wrapped yourself around him, your insignia pins digging into his chest as you squeezed.

He chuckled. "You gonna tell me your news?"

You kissed his ear and squeaked with excitement, and Bradley would be lying if he said he wasn't instantly thinking about taking you to bed.

"Bickel invited me to have dinner with him and Admiral Jennings next Friday. Me, Roo. And her!"

You literally sounded like you were about to meet a celebrity. And Bradley supposed you kind of were.

"Damn, Baby Girl. Get your uniform ready for your new pin."

You just melted across his lap and pulled Tramp in for a hug as well. "I'm more excited that I get to talk to her than anything, really. She's kind of an icon. I just spent $600 on a new dress for dinner."

"Try it on for me later?"

"As long as you promise not to rip it apart."

"I....can't guarantee that."

You just rolled your eyes with a smile, and unpacked the Thai food, dousing yours in extra hot sauce. You both sat on the floor, hip to hip, and ate while Tramp begged.

Then you tried your dress on, and Bradley sat back on the bed. It wasn't actually sexy by any stretch of the imagination. Really, dark green wool shouldn't have been doing anything for him. But....of course it kind of was.

"Looks good," he muttered, watching you spin around in front of the mirror. "Want me to help you start packing?"

"Yeah, that's not a bad idea. I need to wash our uniforms tomorrow night. But you can help me pack up my underwear and shoes."

Bradley went to your drawer and pulled out your most basic bras and underwear. "No need to pack anything cute; I'm not going with you."

But you reached past him and grabbed a few lacy items and set them on top of the pile he had made. When he gave you side eye, you gave him side eye right back.

"What?" you asked innocently. "I might want to send you some pictures. Make sure you're thinking about me while you jerk it."

Bradley groaned and added the red set to the pile. "I honestly love that for me."

You laughed and pulled some black heels out of the closet, along with your polished uniform boots. "Can you drop me off at the airport? Or should I leave my car there? I could ask Jake to pick me up next weekend if you can't."

Bradley scoffed. "First of all, there's nothing Jake can do that I can't, Baby Girl. I can drop you off and pick you up. Second, I probably need to take the Bronco in for a tuneup and inspection. Can I use your little shit-mobile for the week?"

You gaped at him. "Of course you can. But I'm warning you, be nice to it," you scolded. "And don't forget, it sticks when you shift into reverse."

"Yeah, yeah. It'll be fine."

Bradley was shocked when you managed to get home at a decent hour on Friday, after being late Wednesday and Thursday. But things felt better now. On Friday, you hauled a bunch of your equipment inside with bubble wrap.

"You know what we should do for our wedding?" you asked offhandedly as you started wrapping things up and taping them.

Bradley was like a predator, excited and ready to pounce on the conversation. "Tell me."

"Keep it small. Just simple, you know?"

"Yes, simple. Let's do that," he instantly agreed. He would have been okay with inviting the entire Pacific fleet if you wanted to. But simple sounded perfect. "What else?" he asked, pressing his luck.

"Well....I had been thinking about the honeymoon earlier today."

Fuck. Bradley thought about that constantly. "Hawaii. At least ten days."

You chuckled, lining the wrapped equipment up in a plastic bin and then taping that shut. "You wanna be in charge of planning it then?"

Bradley cocked his head, reaching out to run his fingers along your necklace chain. "Are you giving me permission?"

"As long as you stick to a budget."

Bradley smirked, because you hadn't put a price tag on the budget. "As soon as we have a wedding date, consider the honeymoon booked, Baby Girl."

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

Um, super secret wedding gift will be revealed in the next chapter when she heads off to Annapolis....

PART 7

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#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster x you #rooster fanfic #rooster x female reader #rooster x reader #rooster bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction

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vivalas-vega · 9 months

Note

Oooh my, your requests are freaking open???? I've got an idea in my head for a long time and now I give it a try and send it to you. I'm obsessed with Jake (and Bradley) x Roomie (fem reader or oc) trope, so apologies in advance for this one (also a sucker for hurt and comfort 😬). I try to keep it as short as possible: Rooster's and Hangman's new roomie has a sad past. She has sleeping issues and bad nightmares. They hear her whimpering and crying in her sleep. The guys are worried but she plays it down, feeling bad for waking them up with her shit. Maybe she starts to sleep walking and unfortunately hurts herself during this episode. The guys find her in the middle if the night hurt. And she opens up to them telling them about her dreams and her past.

ahhhh !!! I'm so glad to finally get this one posted, I'm so sorry it took so long ! I am such a sucker for the roommate trope, and I love writing stories that are strictly platonic, just focusing on lovely friendship vibes bc those are just as important as the romantic ones !!! I hope you enjoy!

(this doesn't have a title yet bc it's admittedly the thing I'm the worst at when it comes to writing fics)

word count: 2.4k

warnings: mentions of alcohol, some suggestive humor, language, brief and vague mentions of death, lmk if I missed any

“Are you going to eat these leftovers?” you asked Bradley, who was sitting at the kitchen island keeping you company as you cleaned out the fridge and he stared at the tupperware container for an infuriatingly long time, contemplating his options before you let out an exasperated sigh. “Bradshaw, it’s pasta. Yes or no?”

“No,” he finally answered. “You’re in a mood.”

“No mood, it would just be nice if you could be snappier in your responses while you just watch me clean the kitchen.”

“Yeah, definitely not in a mood,” he muttered under his breath but you heard it anyway. “Do you know where Hangman is?”

“You two share a bathroom and you still can’t call him by his name?” you asked with a chuckle. “He’s at the gym, should be back soon.”

“We only share a bathroom because you got the master,” he protested and you laughed again.

“I needed the bigger closet,” you shrugged. “I told you you’re welcome to use mine anytime.”

“After you reamed me for using your face wash? Thank you, but no thank you, I haven’t been yelled at like that since I borrowed my moms car to take Cindy Daniels on a date.”

“I only yelled because you used a forty dollar cleanser as body wash and somehow managed to use half the bottle. Besides, your mom was right to yell at you too, you stole her car and you were thirteen.”

“I was covered in grease! And my date with Cindy is none of your business.”

“Are we having the face wash fight again?” Jake asked as he came in through the garage, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as he reached around you to grab a bottle of water, but you only pushed him away, muttering something about keeping his sweat away from you. “Take the blame, Chicken, you wasted half a bottle of Drunk Elephant, you’re lucky she didn’t put you on the porch for the night.”

“See, the craziest thing about this whole situation is you were just as outraged as she was.”

“Good skincare is not just for women, you might want to invest in a routine of your own.” he smirked before disappearing down the hallway and you heard the sound of the shower turning on.

“You working tomorrow?” Bradley asked, getting up to wash the containers you’d placed near the sink.

You shook your head, “a Friday and Saturday off, Penny was feeling extra generous.” You’d met the two of them, along with the rest of the team, when they’d first gotten to town for the infamous and secretive mission that almost claimed the life of the man currently donning cherry-printed cleaning gloves and scrubbing pasta sauce out of tupperware. You’d all become fast friends, they’d coax you out from behind the bar on your breaks or when your shift was over for darts or pool, and when your lease was up just as they received word of a permanent assignment it seemed to make sense for the three of you to find a place together. It was a godsend for you, it got you out of your cramped apartment with dismal lighting and into a beautiful craftsman only a few blocks away from the beach. Even with arguments with Bradley about face wash and a sweaty Jake, it was a no-brainer.

“Could we convince you into coming to your place of work on a night off? These new recruits are testing our patience, Phoenix wants a fun night out to blow off steam.”

“I could potentially be persuaded,” you replied, shutting the fridge after deeming it was as cleared out as it was going to get.

“Which translates to as long as I’m not mixing them, I’ll always show up for drinks,” Jake said, walking back into the kitchen with freshly washed hair. “Do I get any kind of welcome home now that I’m not sweaty?”

“No, because now you’re wet, did you even dry off?” you asked, snapping him with a dish towel before he rounded the island and wrapped his arms around you.

“Enough,” he answered, squeezing you tight as you pretended to hate it. Really, you loved living with these two. Being on your own before was starting to take its toll on you, and they reminded you of a different time in your life, one that felt like it was ancient history. “Not to dampen the mood, but… we did want to talk to you about something.”

“Sounds serious, should I break out the house meeting wine?” you asked, eyeing them skeptically as they shared a look with each other that you couldn’t quite decipher.

“We just wanted to… check in,” Bradley started and you raised your eyebrows. “The past few weeks we’ve heard certain sounds coming from your room and-”

“Okay, first of all,-” you started to cut him off, eyes wide at what you thought he was insinuating.

“Not like that, sweetheart,” Jake interjected. “But feel free to get louder when you do,” he half-joked and you hit him with the towel again. “What bird boy is trying to say is sometimes we hear what sounds like nightmares coming from your room and it’s happened enough that we just want to check in and see if everything is okay.” You suddenly felt nauseous.

“If there’s something going on, or you need someone to talk to, you know we’re here, right?” Bradley asked and you nodded softly.

“I know, everything is fine, I’m sorry if I woke you.” you said, trying to dismiss their concerns altogether as you occupied yourself with looking over the mail.

“It’s just… it doesn’t sound fine, if you don’t want to talk to us we can help you find someone else to talk to, we just want to make sure you’re okay.” Jake tried and you gave him a forced smile.

“And I am, but I’m glad the two of you finally found something to agree on.” You tossed some junk mail in the garbage before turning to face them again, “I have some errands I want to run early tomorrow morning… text me if you need anything from the store but I’m going to turn in. Goodnight,” you said with another forced smile before heading down the hall and letting out a sigh as your back pressed against your closed bedroom door. You thought that things had gotten better… that enough time had passed. They seemed to be happening less and less, but maybe that wasn’t as true as you once thought.

Your footsteps down the hallway were an unusual sound for this time of night… nightmares or not, once you went to bed you weren’t seen until the following morning and it was enough to stir Jake from his slumber. You on the other hand, were completely unaware of what was going on, still stuck in a dream, stuck in a fluorescent lit hallway with tears streaming down your face only you weren’t… you were in your living room, walking straight into the console table and falling onto the broken glass of the picture frames and vases you’d knocked over which was enough to jolt both of them out of bed.

“Hey, hey, are you okay?” Bradley asked, crouching down beside you as you came to.

“Mav- Maverick?” you asked, voice hoarse as you struggled to place where you were, the images from your dream still fresh in your mind. He looked at Jake confused who was on the other side of you and carefully pushing glass aside.

“No, it’s Bradley… Honey, what happened?” You blinked a few times, finally recognizing you were on the floor of your living room and the searing pain of broken glass in your palms and knees.

“I don’t- oh my god. I’m so sorry,” you winced as you tried to stand but Jake was quick to scoop you up, holding you tight as he walked to the kitchen and carefully placed you next to the sink while Bradley grabbed the first aid kit. “I- I didn’t mean to wake you, I’m okay, you can go back to bed.” He just frowned at you and when Bradley returned he started pulling the shards from your palms while Jake worked on your knees. Silent tears were still streaming down your face and they were both trying to figure out how to ask you what was wrong, but one thing they knew for certain was no one was going back to bed until they got to the bottom of what was going on with you.

“Sweetheart, do you want to tell us what’s going on?” Jake asked softly, looking up briefly to meet your eyes before gently running his thumb along your cuts, making sure there weren’t any pieces he missed.

You shook your head as you wiped your cheeks, “nothing, I just… I don’t know, I guess I was half-asleep? I’m really sorry I woke you,” you said and they both looked at you like they didn’t believe a word of it.

“Alright, I was willing to maybe let it go before but you could have been seriously hurt tonight. Something is going on with you,” Jake said, voice firm as he stopped what he was doing to wipe a few of your tears.

“Whatever it is, you can tell us. Why did you say Maverick’s name when you woke up?” Bradley asked and you closed your eyes for a moment, taking in a deep breath before letting it all out.

“I uh… there’s something I never told you about me.” you started, taking a moment to breathe as you felt your throat tighten. They stayed quiet, both carefully dabbing at your cuts with a damp cloth or rubbing aquaphor over them before bandaging them. “I wasn’t a teacher before realizing I liked bartending more, I was a pilot.”

“Wait, what?” Bradley asked, shock evident in his tone and Jake elbowed him, eyes silently pleading for you to continue.

“My callsign is- or was Flash… like the superhero,” you chuckled but there wasn’t much humor in it and both of their eyes widened. “I was on a mission that went south really fast, we were outnumbered and outgunned, we ran out of resources quickly. I was hit, and I couldn’t… I couldn’t save it, I couldn’t save him.” you choked out.

“Who?” Bradley whispered, you were all cleaned up now and they were both focused solely on you. Jake was rubbing reassuring circles on your thigh as Bradley held one of your hands in his own.

“My wizzo, we called him Genie… we both got to our squad at the same time, and on our first night out his icebreaker was if you had three wishes, what would you wish for?” You laughed again, but this time it was genuine.

“I’ve heard of him,” Jake said, noticing your breathing quicken just at the mention of him. “Both of you, actually, from what I’ve heard you were a hell of a pilot.”

“He couldn’t eject, something went wrong with the handles… I’d already pulled mine when I heard him say they were stuck and the next thing I know the jet is crashing into a hillside below me. I thought the dreams were getting better, and that I was maybe starting to move past it… I don’t think I really registered that it was happening again, or maybe that it never stopped.”

“Honey, why didn’t you tell us this sooner?” Bradley asked, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear and you focused your gaze on your hands.

“I just… I didn’t want you to know that I failed my wizzo,” you choked out. “Or that the last time I was in a cockpit I nearly crashed again and Mav had to talk me through landing a plane I’ve landed thousands of times before because I panicked. I didn’t want you guys to censor yourselves when it came to work stuff out of pity for me being a failed pilot, and I guess… I just didn’t want you guys to look at me differently.”

“Hey, what happened wasn’t your fault,” Jake said, squeezing your thigh gently and prompting you to look up at him. “And we would never look at you differently for that, we understand.”

“I’m so sorry you went through that… and just know that we don’t think of you as a failure. We’ve both heard about that mission, there was nothing you could have done. Faulty equipment and being outgunned is not your burden to bear.” Bradley added, running a hand along your back.

“What is it that you say sometimes? It’s not the plane, it’s the pilot?” you asked, sadness seeping into your tone and he just pulled you into his side and pressed a kiss to your head.

“There’s not much the pilot can do if the plane fails them.”

“You went through a trauma, we would never fault you for not flying again after that.” Jake said and you smiled softly.

“Mav could… god, he tried so hard, he was really there for me after it happened, but… when I finally got back into a plane I just couldn’t shake it. It was like I could still hear him in my backseat even though he wasn’t there.”

“Just because Mav could, that doesn’t mean you’re a lesser pilot or a lesser person for not being able to, if anything I think it makes you stronger. You knew your limits, and instead of pushing through it when you couldn’t trust flying again you took a step back. I know a lot of people who wouldn’t make that same choice.” Bradley said, nudging Jake and you let out a laugh as you wiped your face again.

“Yeah, I thank my lucky stars I never crossed this one’s path when I was still flying,” you said and Jake’s face twisted up in shock.

“Hey, why are we ganging up on me now?” he asked and you laughed again.

“You make it so easy,” you teased and they both smiled, happy to see you coming back into yourself a little.

“We’re here for you, okay? So is everyone else,” Bradley said, pulling you into him again and you let yourself wrap your arms around him as you laid your head on his chest and Jake kept rubbing circles into your skin.

“No matter what, you can always come wake us up if you need someone.”

“I love you guys, you know that?”

You could hear the smirk in Jake’s voice as he said, “oh, we know.” He wrapped himself around the other side of you as the two of them squished you between them. “We love you too.”

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