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bradshawssugarbaby · 26 days

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Angel In the Infield - Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

summary: Bradley Bradshaw is a struggling first-baseman in the major leagues. He's had bad season after bad season, until he met you, his angel.

A/N: While I'm currently struggling with motivation to work on on Take One for the Team, please instead enjoy this baseball au fic I've done in the meantime! Also I started reading sports romance novels, pls send help half these men are baseball players with dark hair. Also if you like this concept/set up, I'm toying with the idea of making this a series of connected oneshots?

pairing: baseball player!Bradley Bradshaw x reader

warnings/content: baseball au, smut throughout, oral (both m + f receiving), praise, dirty talk, mentions of divorce, unfaithfulness (neither Bradley, nor reader), public sex.

word count: 3.7k

taglist (also tagging those who were interested in Take One For The Team since it's a similar vibe and explains the lack of updates lol): @avengersfan25, @jessicab1991, @atarmychick007, @b-bradshaw, @nouis-bum, @mamachasesmayhem, @floydsmuse, @kmc1989, @dckweed, @katfanfic, @nerdgirljen, @whatislovevavy, @mrsevans90, @averyhotchner, @yuckosworld, @tgmreader, @allepaula, @lourd-ita, @mariaenchanted

The sun hung high on the horizon for a Saturday afternoon, radiating an unseasonable warmth as its rays beat down over the course. A gentle breeze made its way through the palm trees that stood tall outside of the stadium, causing large, deep green leaves to sway in its wake. A crowd of spectators sat on the bleachers that surrounded the diamond, a sea of faces filling the scenery, silently watching, sipping beers and eating hotdogs as they took in the spectacle before them. Media representatives dotted the balcony, press passes on display as they gawked at the game unfolding below.

Bradley Bradshaw approached the plate, lining up to take his turn at bat. His bright white uniformed baseball shirt, emblazoned with the team logo across the front, his last name in bold, block lettering across the back of his broad shoulders, hugged at his sun kissed biceps as they flexed. One of his tattoos just barely visible from under the sleeve of the shirt.

He took two practice swings, and once he was comfortable, lined up with the plate. He narrowed his eyes in focus as he looked to the pitcher, giving him the coldest stare down he could muster, his face fixed in a state of concentration. A year and a half ago, he would have begun trash-talking his opponent from the start, calling out that he’d seen his grandmother lob better pitches, and she’d been dead for 15 years. Instead, Bradley forced himself to behave, willing any inappropriate comments about Jake Seresin’s mother to himself, for now.

He took a swing at the first pitch lobbed towards him with a loud grunt, biting his tongue as he held back a frustrated fuck from his lips as the ball sailed past him, landing in the catcher’s mitt with a thud.

Strike one.

He caught your gaze in the sea of faces that were watching him expectantly, his lips curling up into a soft smile as he looked towards the family and friends boxes where you stood, waving subtly to him to gain his attention. He gave you a subtle nod of his head, symbolic of a thank you, for Bradley.

In an instant, Bradley was back in the game, level-headed and laser focused, ready for the next pitch that was coming, as if seeing you had brought him back down to earth, willing him to focus his attention on something other than his once uncontrollable anger.

He wasn’t often this soft. He never used to be. In fact, he was never considered to be a gentleman when he played any sport. He couldn’t lose graciously. It wasn’t in his nature. He was serious, determined and reserved, focused and dedicated, but even his best intended plans couldn’t withstand his explosive temper. It wasn’t that he wanted to be a walking stick of dynamite.

He didn’t intend to fly off the handle at everyone around if he made a bad play or if someone commented on his skills not being on point the way they once were, but after nothing but criticism for the last four years of his career, Bradley thought his outbursts were justifiable.

If he had to hear another comment about being “washed up” at thirty-one, he might snap again, unable to bite his tongue much longer. And if he had a bat in hand? He’d show whoever it was just how good his game still was. He knew his career didn’t have many years left in it, but he had just as much right as any other up and coming young asshole in the MLB to be here. But one bad year at twenty-seven had turned into two, which turned into three, which now crept up on reaching four.

Admittedly, this year was turning out to be marginally better than the three previous - he didn’t know what to chalk it up to at first.

Herefused to admit he could be in love. Love was never for him. At least, that’s what his ex-wife told him when she filed for divorce four years prior. He’d just been starting to make a name for himself as a promising first baseman when she served him the papers, leaving him with a burning desire to focus everything he had on the one thing that he thought couldn’t break him - baseball. That desperate need to be good at something, anything, drove him to the brink of insanity. He couldn’t control himself or his need to be the best in the only area he knew he could be anymore.

However, that train of thought came to a screeching, grinding halt when he met you.

As Bradley remained focused on his turn at bat, he took a swing at the second pitch sent his way, a fastball that, if he was a smart man, he would have let go, taking the ball instead of risking a strike at a pitch that far outside.

However, Bradley was not a smart man. Not when it came to his turns at bat.

Even he couldn’t hide his momentary shock as the ball made contact with the wooden bat in his hands with a crack. He started running towards first base, rounding it quickly before making the smarter decision to stay put, rather than aim for second. He looked towards where you were watching him from once again, smiling to himself as he watched you blow a kiss towards him. He couldn’t wait to finish this game and just hold you and kiss you. Watch you walk around the house with nothing but his baseball jersey on, just barely long enough on you to cover your private areas, giving him a little sneak peek as you bent over to unload the dishwasher, or reached up to grab a wine glass for yourself when you were ready to unwind for the evening.

Those delicious thighs, soft and smooth as he ran his hands up and down them, the way you’d giggle and kick your legs playfully when he grasped at the back of them, even though he knew you were ticklish there. He didn’t give a rat’s ass though. He loved the way you laughed. He swore it was up there on the list of the most beautiful sounds in the world, along with the way you said his name right before you reached your orgasm, the way you’d call him ‘honey’ in passing and the sound of a World Series crowd chanting your number.

Images of his hands lifting the back of that jersey up, shoving the excess material at the bottom out of his way as he pounded into you from behind flashed across his mind, the sounds of you whining out in pleasure as he relentlessly fucked into you, your pretty, pink folds glistening with arousal, letting him slide in and out of you with ease. The thought alone was almost enough to make him curse the athletic cup that was sitting in his baseball pants at the moment, making it increasingly uncomfortable to move as he felt himself hardening at the thought of you.

Fuck, he couldn’t wait to take you in the hotel room later.

As he rounded the bases to home after his teammate’s home run hit, his mind drifted to the thought of your teeth sinking into the tanned, taut skin of his shoulder as he made love to you in the California King Bed that awaited you both in the hotel suite after the game. Your fingers gripping his dark curly hair tightly, tangling into them and tugging as he licked and sucked on your neck, leaving a trail of purpling bite marks down you as he marked you as his own. Not that you protested - in fact, you encouraged it.

As the game progressed, Bradley continued to think about the various ways he could make you his as soon as he got you alone. His mind raced as he thought of you again - in every way possible. He thought about your perfume, how it had some kind of hypnotic hold over him, leaving him momentarily dazed whenever he breathed in your scent. He thought about your smile, how you lit up the entire room when you beamed at him - how you were one of the only people to ever look at him like he meant everything in the world to you, and how you made him feel special and loved and wanted, for the first time in years. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt the way you made him feel.

His ex-wife had been cold and cut-off from him emotionally, physically. She was never satisfied just being with him. She resented that he couldn’t put all of his attention on her, 100% of the time, despite Bradley feeling like he tried his best to balance his career and home life as best as he could. When she had told him she was ready to have a baby, he’d been entirely on board - ready and willing to start a family. What he wasn’t prepared for, was walking in on her sleeping with a rookie from a rival team in the hotel room that Bradley had paid for.

As he packed up his gear after the game, his team pulling ahead with a win thanks to a home run hit he scored in the 8th inning that shocked even him, he let out a deep, satisfied sigh. He had proved himself for another day, and he was proud of himself for it. He figured at this rate, if he kept it up, he could be discussing his comeback season with the press after another couple of games. The thought of being respected once again in the sport was electrifying, enough to send a shockwave pulsating through his veins as he switched out of his cleats and into his street shoes.

He headed out of the locker room, his baseball bag slung over his shoulder and his cap turned backwards, with tufts of dark chestnut brown curls peaking out through the opening. He spotted you, wearing one of his spare jerseys unbuttoned with a short little black dress on underneath, with a pair of stark white running shoes. Your matching baseball cap was sported backwards, just like Bradley’s, a style he started adopting on your advice. You’d flipped his cap around one day during a playful round of sex in the backseat of his vintage Ford Bronco, telling him it looked so much hotter on him when he wore it so that you could still see his face. He took that advice to heart, and now, every chance he could, backwards is how it was.

You happily skipped over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck loosely as you peppered his lips with feather-light kisses. He laughed softly and shook his head when you finally pulled away, his cheeks burning into a rosy red tone as a slight wave of embarrassment washed over him.

It wasn’t your kisses or affection that embarrassed him though. It was the fact that after 18 months of dating, he still wasn’t used to it. It was partially his own fault — his ex-wife had never been an affectionate lover, but even after that, he refused to actually be in a relationship with anyone. He enjoyed sex, and that was all he wanted. He wasn’t looking for his heart to be broken again, and it suited him just fine until you came along.

He’d met you once in passing — he’d gotten himself embroiled in a bar brawl with some guy who’s mouth ran faster than the speed of light. Bradley’s nose had been broken and bloodied as a result, and you’d been leaving the bar with a handful of friends. You’d recognized Bradley as the guy who’d hit on you earlier in the night, and to your surprise, graciously accepted your rejection when you turned him down. When you saw him in this light though, drunk and vulnerable, you felt sorry for him.

Taking a couple of tissues from your purse, you helped clean up his face as best as you could, sending your friends on their way without you as you took on this newfound role of nurse to him. With few other options to stop his nosebleed, you’d handed him a tampon from your purse. He laughed initially, in complete and total refusal to use it. You had gestured to his floral print white polo shirt, the collar now stained with drips of blood from his face. He huffed a sigh and followed your advice, grumbling as you insisted on making awkward small talk as you sat and waited with him to get checked out.

That was the first time since his mother’s passing that anyone had ever shown Bradley an ounce of compassion when he was injured. He wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol talking or not , but he could have sworn you were an angel with the way you smiled at him and how soothing he found your voice.

Now, eighteen months later, standing here with your arms wrapped around him, his hands on your waist as you fussed over him and congratulated him on his performance in this afternoon’s game, he was sure. You were heaven sent.. In fact, it was what he called you — angel. He’d decided early on it was the perfect nickname for you, and as time went on, he only proved himself right.

“Everyone’s left, right?” You asked him, raising an eyebrow at him as he snapped back to reality, shooting a quick glance behind his shoulder.

“Mhmm. I was the last one out of the showers. Looks like it’s just us left here.”

“Perfect. I have a little something for you.”

“Do you?” He inquired, eyebrows raised as he smirked, a million ideas running through his head at what his surprise could be.

Together, you walked back towards the now deserted dugout, the ballpark that was roaring with excitement an hour ago was now silent, deserted by players and fans alike. You grinned as you turned around to face Bradley, dropping down to your knees in front of him, gazing up at him with a doe-eyed stare that was almost enough to make him groan out in pleasure.

“Wh-you mean, this is my surprise? You’re gonna suck my dick in the dugout, angel?”

“I know you’ve always wanted me to. And you played so good today, honey. How could I say no?” You purred as you undid the belt holding his pants in place.

He dropped his baseball pants down to his ankles, and before his hands could remove the tight fitting boxer briefs he’d changed into post-game, your mouth was pressed against the tightening bulge, pressing warm kisses to it in a way that made Bradley’s mind foggy. He couldn’t think straight and he wasn’t even in your mouth yet.

Fuck.

He knew he wouldn’t last long if this was how worked up he was feeling at your mouth touching him. As you tugged his boxers down, peeling them off his thighs to free his cock. A white bead of pre-cum pearled on his tip, leading Bradley to elicit a pornographic moan as your thumb swiped across it, whisking the liquid away before you began pumping your hand up and down his shaft. You tauntingly flicked your tongue out over the tip of his erection, encircling the red, throbbing head with a trail of saliva before licking a strip along the underside to his balls. Bradley shuddered as he felt you continue to lick up and down his length, your hand pumping him tightly when you alternated and pressed your lips to the tip.

After what felt to Bradley like an eternity, you took his tip past your parted lips, hollowing your cheeks as you began to suck on his cock like it was some kind of refreshing summer treat. As you took him further back in your mouth, your saliva began to pool around his shaft, dribbling out down his length as you tried to take more of him into you. He grunted your name as he gathered your hair in his hand, gripping tightly as he thrusted his hips forward into your mouth.

You gagged as you felt his tip brush the back of your throat, causing more of your spit to soak his cock, your hand using it as lubrication as you continued to pump on whatever didn’t fit past your lips. Bradley began panting, gasping and singing your praises as he fucked your mouth. Your eyelids fluttered as you shut them for a quick moment to concentrate yourself on your technique until you felt a hand gently squeezing your cheeks, making your mouth seemingly tighten harder around Bradley.

“Nuh, uh, beautiful. Eyes on me,” he directed.

You gazed up at him with that same doe-eyed stare again, batting your lashes as you watched his facial expression, his eyes shutting as he enjoyed the feel of your mouth as it sucked and licked at his cock, working him into his orgasm.

“Shit, angel, ‘m’not gonna last,” Bradley panted, deep chocolate brown eyes fixated on you as he watched you pull your mouth back from him almost entirely before thrusting yourself fully into him.

His lids shut again as he drew his head back, saying your name as if it was a hymn he was singing. He let out a deep, throaty grunt as he shot hot, white ropes of his cum down your throat. Your eyes never left his as you swallowed hard, making sure that he could see you as you did it before pulling yourself back off his cock. Pulling yourself to your feet, you wiped the saliva from your mouth with the back of your hand, grinning proudly at the mess you’d made out of Bradley.

His eyes deepened with a burning, lustful hunger for you as he wrapped his arm around your waist, picking you up off your feet and grinning.

“I gotta return the favour, now, angel. You know the rules. You wear a pretty little skirt like that, and I just have to eat that pussy of yours.” He said matter-of-factly as he pulled his bottoms back up, chuckling to himself as he tightened his belt back up. “Bet you did it on purpose, didn’t you, honey? Knew I wouldn’t be able to resist eating that perfect little cunt of yours if you wore something like this?”

“I may have been thinking something along those lines,” you teased, shrugging your shoulders as he laid you down on the bench.

He straddled the bench in front of your legs and tutted his tongue at you, giving you a head shake of disapproval before raising an eyebrow at you.

“Angel, come on, spread those pretty thighs of yours nice and wide for me. Throw your legs over my shoulders if you have to.”

You obeyed his command, biting down on your lip as you fought back a grin, draping your legs over his broad shoulders as he slipped between them, his mouth hovering just over your folds. He pressed his lips to your inner thigh, nipping at the sensitive skin with his teeth. You let out a soft yelp of pleasure, feeling your body writhe at the mere suggestion of Bradley’s mouth down there on you.

“Look at you,” Bradley purred as he spread your folds apart with two thick fingers. “So pretty and wet for me already? Sucking my cock got you all worked up like this?”

“Mhmm,” you hummed, trying to concentrate your thoughts into a sentence.

“C’mon, honey, use your words for me. Wanna hear you say it,” Bradley said as he flicked his tongue out, swiping it across your swollen, sensitive clit.

“Bradley,” you whined as you arched your back at the slow, sensual teasing, “You know exactly why I’m like this already.”

“Mhmm, my perfect angel,” he cooed as he licked at your folds again, gathering your arousal on his tongue.

As Bradley’s tongue ravaged you, eating you out like a man starved on a desert island for the last few months, your heart began to race, a burning desire brewing in the pit of your stomach. While Bradley’s tongue lapped at your arousal, he delved two thick fingers into your pulsating core, pumping them into your g-spot. You could picture him grinning to himself as he heard your needy, whiny moans, panting his name as if it was the only word you were able to say anymore. That was just how he liked it though - making it so he was the only thing on your mind. He prided himself on it.

Your thighs began to shake as he dug the fingers of his free hand into your flesh, holding you in place. He pulled his mouth away from you for a moment with a loud suck. You whimpered at the loss of contact, looking down at him from beneath hooded lids as he continued to fuck his fingers deeper into you.

“That’s it, angel. I played my best for you today, wanted to do right, earn this pretty little pussy of yours. Make it mine,” he husked.

Your walls clenched down tightly around his fingers as he spoke, the words alone enough to send you over the edge. He pressed his lips to your clit once again, giving it a long, tantalizing suck as he drew your orgasm out of you. Instead of his name, this time all you could get out of your mouth was a breathless, blissed out moan, unable to formulate words as your brain fogged. Bradley continued to praise you, coaching you through your climax like a personal trainer coaching you through a workout.

He drew his hand up to his mouth, sucking on his fingers until they were clean, his wide tongue pressing flat against them before pulling them out of his mouth with a loud pop. You blinked twice at him, still dazed from your orgasm as he pulled your underwear back up your legs.

“You ok, angel?” Bradley grinned as he tapped your thigh gently with his hand to try and bring you back to reality. Your blissfully fucked out stare was all he needed, a soft smile on your face as you tried to regain your composure.

“We’re just getting started, baby. I’ve got 48 hours with you before my next game, I’m making each one of those hours count.”

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seresinhangmanjake · 2 months

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Top Gun: Maverick lego

I finally got all of the Phoenix and Bob pieces to go with Hangman and Rooster :)

Tagging those who interacted with the last lego post with Hangman and Rooster: @wkndwlff @roosterforme @jessicab1991 @shanimallina87 @nerdgirljen @froggibus @mamachasesmayhem @teacupsandtopgun @seresinsbrat @callsign-madusa

#top gun maverick #top gun #lego #jake seresin #bradley bradshaw #bob floyd #natasha trace #tgm

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pinkdaisies9285 · 3 months

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Flyboy and the Florist-1

Bob Floyd x F!Reader

Warnings: None, Fluff

Word Count: 466

Author's Note: This is my first time writing for Bob and I hope I did him justice. Also, I tried to keep reader pretty neutral in features but she does have glasses and ear piercings!

It was an accident. One moment Bob was trying to find the perfect bouquet for Penny from Maverick because he trusted the quiet man. The next he’s surrounded by flowers on the ground and the prettiest eyes are staring at him with concern. Bob didn’t think that someone so beautiful would be the owner of the little florist shop he found on Google. It had the highest reviews and that was good enough for him. He was not expecting to be enamored with her when he first walked in. Hence why he missed the bucket with freshly cut peonies to the right of him. Which resulted in him slipping on the wet floor and landing flat on his ass.

“Are you okay?” she asked. Tilting her head which resulted in a soft jingle from the earrings she was wearing. The stars and moon twinkling in the sunlight added an almost ethereal appearance to her but maybe it was just in his head.

“Y-yeah. Sorry about knocking that over. I can pay for them if they’re ruined now?” he said while standing up quickly. He felt like a total idiot knocking over your perfect flowers and his momma raised him to be a gentleman. So his immediate thought was to somehow fix the silly little mistake he made.

“You’re totally fine,” she said with a chuckle while pushing up her glasses. “ They’re just flowers and besides I can repurpose them into one of my bath salts. An easy fix.”

All Bob could focus on was her pretty smile and how much her glasses fit her face perfectly. With his head in the clouds, he missed the question she just asked him.

“I’m sorry what was that again?” he felt completely flustered.

“I asked what type of bouquet are you looking for? Is it for a partner or a friend?” she asked with a curious look on her face.

“Oh! It's not for me. My superior wanted some help picking out something for his partner.” Bob immediately replied with a flush on his cheeks.

“Well, he must trust your insight a lot to give such an important task to you.” She turned around and picked up a bouquet that had morning glory, baby’s breath, and roses. “Here this bouquet will be perfect. Baby’s breath means everlasting love, Morning glory means affection, and pink and white roses together mean “I love you still and I always will.”

Bob stood there even more enamored than before, the way she rattled off the meaning of each flower with such excitement made him want to know more. About her or the language of flowers, he wasn’t sure but he knew that this wasn’t the last time he would be crossing paths with this enigma of a woman. He’ll make sure of it.

Tag List: @attapullman @seresinhangmanjake @3tabbiesandalab @nerdgirljen @bobgasm @muddwheelz123

This list is just everyone who voiced interest! Please fill out the form below to be tagged!

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Divider Credit @cafekitsune

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nerdgirljen · 4 months

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Unfortunately, I was unable to get my contribution to @lewmagoo’s A Lew Magoo Christmas challenge completed before 11:59pm EST on December 24. The holidays completely snuck up on me, and before I knew it, it's Christmas Eve and I only had a mood board completed, and yet I had so much left to do. It is, however, being posted on Christmas, and I am so extremely sorry I missed the deadline.

It was inspired by the Eagles song, "Please Come Home for Christmas." I hope you all enjoy!

Please Come Home for Christmas by NerdGirlJen

Fandom: Top Gun: Maverick Character: Bob Floyd Pairing: Bob Floyd x reader Word Count: 1,300ish... Rating: G/PG

Summary: Bob’s away from home on Christmas, and he absolutely hates it.

Disclaimer: I do not own Top Gun: Maverick, I just like to play with the characters a bit. I also know nothing about the Navy, Navial aviators, aircraft carriers, so all mistakes are on me because I did very little research. Also not betaed… did you miss the part where real life has been hectic af and I didn’t even start this until late on Christmas Eve?

Warnings: missing family, homesickness, other than those, no warnings.

__________

An aircraft carrier in the middle of the Pacific Ocean was not where Bob Floyd wanted spend Christmas, but here he is sitting in the ship's mess hall waiting for his allotted time to video call home. A bag of peanut butter M&Ms sat before him, open, but Bob was too distracted to eat any of the tasty treats. His mind wasn’t concentrating on the chocolate goodness, nor on the television they wheeled in that was currently playing White Christmas. No, his mind was somewhere else, indeed.

Home.

The one real place he couldn’t get out of his head for the last three weeks at sea. He missed you dearly, and he was wracked with guilt knowing that he should be stateside with you. You were partners, in life and in love, and he doesn’t think it fair to you that he’s not home to help with such a momentous day.

He especially doesn’t think it’s fair to himself that he’s not home to celebrate his daughter’s first Christmas. Charlotte only gets one first Christmas, and it’s killing him that he’s missing it.

Bob doesn’t regret enlisting in the Navy. He’s done some amazing things since beginning his career as a Wizzo, gone to some amazing places, both domestic and abroad, and he’s met some amazing people, as well. However, none of those things, places, or people compare to where his head is currently daydreaming of and where he left his heart behind. So no, he doesn’t regret enlisting, but he sure doesn’t appreciate the timing of the mission he just wrapped up.

“Bobbo, you alright over there?” A voice close to him knocked him out of his thinking, and he turned to face his friend, and pilot, Natasha, looking down at him with concern.

“Oh, I’m alright, I guess” he sighed. “I was just thinking about back home.”

Natasha’s face lit up at the mention of “back home” knowing exactly to whom Bob was referring. He smiled at her exuberance and motioned for her to sit at the table he currently occupied.

“How is my baby?” she asked, excited to hear about her god-daughter’s latest antics. “Lottie still keeping her mom up at all hours of the night wanting to party instead of sleep?”

Bob smiled, remembering the last phase the 8-month-old had gone through. He was still at home for the beginning of that stage, and no matter what you or he did, Lottie didn’t sleep much at all, and so neither of you got much sleep either. Natasha thinks that Lottie has a strong case of ‘fear of missing out’ and doesn’t want to miss anything going on around her, and, unfortunately after a few weeks of restless nights in a row, Bob and you started thinking that the pilot was right. It didn’t matter what the time of day was, but whenever she was awake, Charlotte’s beautiful hazel eyes would look at everything around her so intently and so curiously that Bob wondered if she were trying to solve some puzzle neither of you could see.

“Lottie’s perfect, Nat,” he bragged. “Growing like a weed, and sharp as a tack.” He regaled his friend with her latest antics you told him about over the phone. Just before he deployed, Charlotte had just started to crawl; however, it was on the call he made to you last week that you told him that instead of forwards, Lottie was now crawling backwards with great enthusiasm. Bumping into any and everything along the way. Natasha’s eyes lit up and she laughed, delightedly. “I can’t wait to get home and be able to hold her again. I’ll take the sleepless nights just to be home soon.”

Bob missed his baby girl. He missed you, too, and he was so grateful that the mission he and Natasha had just finished was completed safely and successfully so that he could get home in one piece to be with his girls. If he had his way, he’d not leave the dock again for a long time. Maybe it was time to request he be stationed on land for a while, that way he doesn’t have to be away from you like he currently is.

“Well, I can’t help you be there quicker,” Natasha noted. “I mean, not unless we steal a jet, but I’d prefer to not be court martialed, dishonorably discharged, and face jail time.”

Bob grinned. “Yeah, if I can’t stand spending a month away from them, I know I couldn’t spend twenty plus years away.” Natasha grabbed at the bag of chocolate in front of him and started munching at a few of the candies. She smiled, wistfully, at the melancholy she could hear in her friend’s voice and the faraway look in his eyes.

“Trace!” came a barked shout. “You’re next! Floyd, you’re after Trace.” Finally.

Bob expected Natasha to stand and follow the Info Systems Tech to the conference room they had set up for the day, but Natasha surprised him by calling out to the IST instead. “Sir,” Nat said, “I’m forfeiting my time to Floyd so he can spend a bit more of the holiday with his family.”

Bob’s eyes grew wide, and he grabbed Natasha’s hand to object. “Nat, no,” he started to protest, but the look she gave him told him not to argue with her. It wasn’t a secret to anyone on board the carrier that he had a wife and new kid at home that he loved with every fiber of his being. He was constantly showing photos of the two to anyone who asked or even stood still long enough to chat. Other sailors and officers with families knew and understood where the WSO was coming from because they all did the same.

The IST looked pointedly at the pilot before nodding once and amending his earlier proclamation. “Floyd, you’re up!”

Bob stood, still gaping at his friend – his daughter’s god mother – in shock. “Nat, I don’t know how to thank you,” he sputtered.

“The only thanks I need, Bobby Boy, is a special Natasha/Lottie Day after we get back,” she stated. “Okay?”

“More than,” he was barely able to say as his emotions were overwhelming him. He squeezed Natasha’s hand in thanks, and quickly got up to follow the tech officer. Once reaching the conference room, Bob sat in front of the provided laptop, and gave the IST the number to call.

One ring, two rings, three…

The screen lit up with a small face with a gummy grin that was mid giggle. “Merry Christmas, Daddy!” he heard his wife exclaim through the speakers, but Bob was more mesmerized by the cherub cheeked infant whose eyes sparkled brightly and whose jubilant squeals lightened the WSO up from the inside.

“There’s my girls,” he said, gratefully, beginning his scheduled video chat time.

Now, while Bob Floyd couldn’t be home for Christmas this year, he was happy to receive what little bit of time he could have with you on the screen. He was up for reassignment soon, and he was absolutely going to be ask for fewer, and shorter, missions and deployments. Whether the Powers that Be would grant his request, he didn’t know, but he was certain he didn’t want to spend another holiday being away from you two.

“Tell me, how has Christmas been so far?” He smiled as you started detailing the holiday spent with his parents and family.

Yeah, he definitely couldn’t wait to be home.

___

Annnnd end scene.

Feel free to tell me what you think in a comment. If you think it's completely horrid, keep that to yourself! (Just kidding, all constructive criticism is good constructive criticism.)

Anyway, happy Christmas to everyone. Or Happy Holidays to whatever holiday you celebrate. Love you all!

#bob floyd x reader #bob floyd #top gun: maverick #tgm #natasha trace #phoenix #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction

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love-in-light · 5 months

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“Smell is a potent wizard that transports you across thousands of miles and all the years you have lived.” – Helen Keller

Fragrant Flashbacks | Bob Floyd | Cypress and Bayberry

Get Bob's Candle Here thanks to the collaboration with @nerdgirljen of Jen and Jute Candle Co.

#Top Gun #Top Gun Maverick #Bradley Bradshaw #Miles Teller #Jake Seresin #Glen Powell #Bob Floyd #Lewis Pullman #Javy Machado #Pete Mitchell #Tom Kazansky #Reuben Fitch #Natasha Trace #Mickey Garcia #Aesthetic #Moodboard

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ohtobeleah · 3 months

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💕 Galentines Day Song Prompt List 💕

Leah’s Galentines Day Special! Rules & Regulations are as followed 👇

🫶 All entries must be submitted over the weekend of the 17th & 18th of February. (Remember I’m Australian so this may be subject to Timezone differences)

🫶 All participants must be 18+ (Blogs will be checked upon entry for something that indicates this)

🫶 Participants must direct message me & requests a song to use as their prompt. Once a song has been recorded, selected and given to you, your @ will be tagged next to your chosen song.

-> Example: “Hi Leah, May I please select *Song of choice* for your Galentine’s Day special”

🫶 No kink!shaming allowed (Reader discretion will be advised by the participants involved) It will be the job of the Author to ensure their work is properly tagged and that warnings are properly placed.

🫶 Although this is a Valentines Day Soecial, angst is also encouraged as well as Smutty ideas, and of course our fluffy lovey dovey ideas. 💡

🫶 No Minimum or Maximum word count required.

🫶 Any art or moodboards are also welcome.

🫶 Submissions can be stand alone One-Shots or a blurb using previously established characters from worlds authors have already created.

🫶 All Submissions are to be tagged with #leahsgalentinesdayspecial and @ohtobeleah tagged.

🫶 All Submissions will be added to the official Galentines Day Soecial Masterlist as well as reblogged by yours truly.

-> I’m Yours ~ Jason Marx

-> You're Still The One ~ Shania Twain @senawashere

-> Bubbly ~ Colbie Caillat @shinycupcakebaker

-> You and I ~ Lady Gaga @briseisgone

-> You Shouldn't Kiss Me Like This ~ Toby Keith @a-reader-and-a-writer

-> Chasing Stars ~ Rupert Pope, Giles Palmer

-> Delicate ~ Taylor Swift @purelyfiction

-> Lavender Haze ~ Taylor Swift @becks-things

-> Style ~ Taylor Swift

-> Wildest Dreams ~ Taylor Swift

-> Lover ~ Taylor Swift @sorchathered

-> Wonderland ~ Taylor Swift @sparklehippie17

-> Love Again ~ Dua Lipa

-> Kiss Me ~ Sixpence None The Richer @muddwheelz123

-> Can’t Help Falling In Love ~ Elvis Presley @seresinsbrat

-> Can’t Take My Eyes Off You ~ Frankie Valli @withahappyrefrain

-> Be My Baby ~ The Robettes @nerdgirljen

-> Bad Romance ~ Lady Gaga @briseisgone

-> Somebody To Love ~ Queen @rockstxr-x

-> Lovefool ~ The Cardigans

-> Like a Wrecking Ball ~ Eric Church @mynameismackenziemae

-> Counting Stars ~ OneRepublic

-> Adore You ~ Harry Styles @seitmai

-> Radio ~ Lana Del Rey

-> All Of Me ~ John Legend @fanboyswhore9

-> Always Be My Baby ~ Mariah Carey @ryebecca

-> Let’s Stay Together ~ Al Green

-> Here I Am ~ Bryan Adams @auroralightsthesky

-> Something Just Like This ~ The Chainsmokers, Coldplay

-> Jessie’s Girl ~ Rick Springfield

-> Dandelions ~ Ruth. B @callsign-phoenix

-> I Want It That Way ~ Backstreet Boys

-> You & I ~ One Direction

-> A Thousand Miles ~ Vanessa Carlton

-> Hey Lover ~ The Daughters Of Eve @sunlightmurdock

-> She Will Be Loved ~ Maroon Five

-> Maps ~ Maroon Five

-> Girls Like You ~ Maroon Five

-> Stay With Me ~ Sam Smith

-> Love On The Brain ~ Rihanna @moonlight-prose

-> Mary Me ~ Train @sailor-aviator

-> Young & Beautiful ~ Lana Del Rey

-> I'm In Love ~ Hailey Whitters @purelyfiction

-> For Once In My Life ~ Stevie Wonder

-> Just Give Me A Reason ~ P!nk, Nate Ruess @bradshawsbaby

-> Just The Way You Are ~ Bruno Mars @mamachasesmayhem

-> I Don’t Wanna Live Forever ~ Zayn, Taylor Swift

-> How To Save A Life ~ The Fray

-> Love Me Like You Do ~ Ellie Golding @senawashere

🫶 Don’t see a song you’d like to use? Not a problem, direct message me your preferred song and I’ll add not only your song of choice but you to the list!

#leahs galentines day special #top gun fandom #top gun fanfiction #top gun au #jake seresin #jake seresin imagine #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagine #bob floyd imagine #mickey garcia #javy coyote machado #reuben payback fitch #too gun maverick

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lewmagoo · 6 months

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christmas is my absolute favorite time of year, and i thought it would be fun to host a writing celebration to get into the festive spirit! 🎄

RULES:

use the tag #a lew magoo christmas

must be 18+ to join

choose from one of the songs below and use it as inspiration to write a one shot about one of lew's characters (listed below)

it doesn't just have to be writing; moodboards are also more than welcome!

send me an ask with your song and character choice; limit to one song per writer; if two people request the same song, i will permit it as long as you are writing about different characters. no more than two fics per song

tag or message me when you post your submission so i can read and reblog it!

please have your submissions posted on or before december 24th

if you do not celebrate christmas but would still like to participate, winter themed submissions are also permitted

CHARACTERS YOU MAY CHOOSE FROM:

bob floyd

rhett abbott

miles miller

calvin evans

harrison knott

SONGS:

a marshmallow world - dean martin (harrison | @seresinsbrat ; read it here!)

step into christmas - elton john (bob | @attapullman ; read it here!)

sleigh ride - harry connick jr (rhett | @delopsia ; read it here!)

all i want for christmas is you - vince vance and the valiants (rhett | @floydsmuse ; read it here!)

what christmas means to me - stevie wonder (bob | @bradshawsbaby ; read it here!)

believe - josh groban (miles | @auroralightsthesky ; read it here!)

merry christmas darling - the carpenters (rhett | @whisperofsong ; read it here!)

christmas (baby please come home) - darlene love (rhett | @callsignspark ; read it here!)

please come home for christmas - eagles (rhett | @mikpieboo) (bob | @nerdgirljen ; read it here!)

let it snow! - dean martin (rhett | @bobfloydsbabe ; read it here!) (bob | @ryebecca ; see the moodboard here!)

white christmas - bing crosby (bob | @dulcewrites ; read it here!) (rhett | @rhettabbotts)

it's christmas time for everyone (but me) - buck owens (rhett | @sebsxphia ; see the moodboard here!)

like it's christmas - the jonas brothers (bob | @roostersgirlfrxend)

winter wonderland - bing crosby (rhett | @luminousnotmatter)

blue christmas - dean martin (bob | @damrlova)

last christmas - wham! (rhett | @callsign-magnolia) (bob | @sunlightmurdock)

please reblog this for anyone who might be interested! merry christmas to all, i can't wait to see what you come up with!

#a lew magoo christmas #lewis pullman #bob floyd #rhett abbott #calvin evans #miles miller #harrison knott

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thisisanewlowes · 3 months

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The A-List Universe | Masterlist

Here is the masterlist for the A-List Universe!! Under the cut, you'll find both 'Money Can't Buy You Love' and 'Falling Stars.' Both stories take place in my modern-day Hollywood AU!! Any likes, reblogs, or comments would be met with so much acceptance and happiness from me :))

A-List Universe Tag List

Money Can't Buy You Love

Pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader

Summary: Jake Seresin is one of the biggest celebrities in Hollywood. He's also the industry's most infamous playboy. All set to star in what's shaping up to be the most highly anticipated film of the year, Jake's lifestyle comes into question when he meets his director's daughter... and finds himself falling fast.

✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩

Money Can't Buy You Love | Masterlist

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

Falling Stars

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: With his career quickly declining and his marriage falling apart, Bradley isn't sure how he's supposed to keep going. But, when he's offered a main role in a franchise almost as irrelevant as he is, it seems like things might turn around. Only, what happens when his return to the limelight threatens the career of someone he thought he left behind long ago?

✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩

Falling Stars | Masterlist

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

Tag List:

@environmental-gbcd @seresinsbrat @miselaneas @fantoz @teacupsandtopgun @seresinsweetie @thedronerange r@floydsglasses @mrsrobertfloyd @djs8891 @queenslandlover-93 @paigewinchester67@tgmrooster @seresinhangmanjake @callsigncurse @callsigncowboy @callsign-daydream@teacupsandtopgun @acewritesfics @missathlete31 @themissingmango @blue-aconite @whatislovevavy @sunlightmurdock @bradshawbaby @averyhotchner @boiolay @nerdgirljen @thatredlipped-classic @dempy @atthelakes13 @redbarn1995 @jessicab1991 @kmc1989 @seitmai @avengersfan25 @aworldwideapart

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floydsglasses · 2 months

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So I finally got that candle I was gifted it smells amazing not going to lie I kind of thought it wasn't going to show up it looks amazing. @nerdgirljen Check her out Etsy

(So funny story this candle gave me a lot of anxiety because I had to open it up and show my parents and make up some story about why it says Bob on it, because I would be caught dead telling people what I do on the internet.)

Who knew me getting bored one time and looking at bath and body works would get me a free candle also my nose in my asthma decided to act up today so I can't really smell it

#top gun maverick #tgm #robert bob floyd

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roosterforme · 4 months

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DECO MY TREE!

Thank you for the tags @teacupsandtopgun @desert-fern @startrekfangirl2233 @bradleybeachbabe @dakotakazansky @just-in-case-iloveyou @mamachasesmayhem

Tagging everyone, but especially: @beyondthesefourwalls @mak-32 @withahappyrefrain @annathesillyfriend @je-suis-prest-rachel @indynerdgirl @goldenseresinretriever @bobgasm @attapullman @horseslovers2016 @hookslove1592 @nerdgirljen @inmyloveworld @love-in-light @thedroneranger @lt-spork @myfaveficrecs @ccbb2222 @averyhotchner @xomrsalliej4787xo @trickphotography2 @na-ta-sh-aa @shanimallina87 @marvelouslyme96 @ryebecca @princessofglitterland @bradshawsbitch @bradshawsbaddie

#if you ask emily

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bradshawssugarbaby · 17 days

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Meet The Teacher - Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

summary: Bradley Bradshaw's re-entering civilian life with a new mission - teaching second grade.

a/n: thank you to @nerdgirljen for suggesting the idea with her breakdown of Bradley's military file, and thank you to @floydsmuse, @mamachasesmayhem, and @purelyfiction for reading this over for me last night 😅

pairing: teacher!Bradley Bradshaw x single mom!reader (last name is given to reader) warnings/content: mentions of trauma/injury, mentions of death/parent loss, Bradley pining for a student's mom, allusions to smut (masturbating (m)).

word count: 2.9k

taglist: @avengersfan25 @nouis-bum @sorchathered @hangmansgbaby @sarahsmi13s @jessicab1991 @atarmychick007 @b-bradshaw @djs8891 @primroseluna @silversprings-mp3 @drxgxnslxyer @gardenavenue @seitmai @unhinged-bitch @mattyskies

“You’ve got this, Bradshaw. You’ve got this. It’s just two dozen second graders. You’ve flown fighter jets and stared enemy aircraft in the eye, shot them down midair, you can handle a classroom of second graders.”

Bradley repeated his mantra over and over in the rearview mirror of his car, taking a deep breath as he nodded his head. He adjusted the collar on his baby blue and white striped dress shirt, fingers tracing over the silver chain of his dog tags. His breath hitched in his throat as he ran his fingertip over the beaded chain, letting it out in a strained sigh. He was venturing into uncharted waters here, and he was beginning to wonder if he was in over his head.

Six months ago, he was flying planes, one of the US Navy’s finest aviators. He’d never cared much about what he could have been doing if he hadn’t become a pilot - he’d known as long as he could remember that he wanted to fly. Since his accident though, he began to process all the things he’d let himself miss out on over the past 18 years. At 40 years old, he knew he was pushing his body to its limits, but he didn’t think he’d reached that threshold yet.

He was wrong.

It’d been a routine flight exercise, the kind he’d done about 40,000 times before in his career. His plane’s engine cut out, a mechanical failure beyond anyone’s control that couldn’t have been predicted. He kept his composure, pulled the ejection handle and parachuted his way to the ground below. In an ideal situation, he would have landed perfectly, safe and sound and taken to the hospital for observation but released the next day.

Instead, he’d blown his knee out on his landing, making walking next to impossible, let alone flying.

Presented with his options, returning to flying seemed unlikely. His knee would only likely get worse, and he realized, he sort of liked the idea of settling down someday — he knew forty was a little late in life to realize it, but damn it, he did want a family. He didn’t want to be that dad who couldn’t keep up with his kid. He wanted to be an active, fun parent like he’d remembered his mom being in her lifetime. He wanted to be able to dance with his new bride at his wedding, if it ever happened, and he couldn’t do any of that if his knee was fucked beyond repair.

Dreams of coaching Little League and dancing around kitchens in the soft, yellow glow of overhead lights had suddenly flashed before him in his hospital room, and when the proposition of an honourable discharge came up, an offer absolving him of any guilt for abandoning his post in the pursuit of a civilian little fairytale life, he seized it. He loved flying, but he knew he couldn’t do it forever, despite his best efforts. He needed something to fall back on. And if these hopes and dreams suddenly crossing his mind — having a wife and a family, being a doting dad — were to come true, he needed to start somewhere.

Bradley always swore he’d never leave a wife and family behind. He’d seen what happened when a service member didn’t come home first hand - his dad was killed in a training incident when he was just over two years old, and he’d seen how his whole world turned on its side when it happened. Even as a toddler, he remembered a lot of crying from his mother, and suddenly noticing a huge absence in his life that couldn’t be explained.

He didn’t understand what happened until he turned five, when he finally worked up the courage to ask his mom where his dad was. Why he left. Why he didn’t want to be home with Bradley. The moment he was old enough to decide his career path, he knew he wouldn’t be able to put a wife and children through the things he and his mom had been through. He was better off alone if he was serving. And it suited him just fine for the most part. The odd pang of jealousy when a colleague got married, the occasional feeling that he was missing out on something each time someone he knew announced the arrival of a new baby — they were easy enough to ignore when he focused his attention on his work.

Now, sitting in his parked car, an hour before the start of the school year, he was talking himself through how to survive his first day in his chosen back-up profession — teaching.

He’d minored in education studies at university when he went. He’d promised his mother when he was applying to colleges that he’d pick a good back-up option to flying, just in case he didn’t get into the academy, and everyone knew he was great with kids. He’d often babysat for his mom’s friends, volunteered to coach softball teams and run summer camps at the community centre throughout high school. Teaching seemed like a no-brainer.

He let out a heavy sigh as he strolled into the school, his head held high, lesson plans tucked neatly in a file folder under his arm, his coffee cup in the other hand. He was ready to face the day, and whatever these seven-year-olds had to throw at him.

The day went on without a hitch, much to Bradley’s relief. Twenty-three little darlings sat in their desks, on their best behaviour for their first day of class. He knew it was unlikely that they’d continue to be so well-behaved, but he savoured it while it lasted. His co-workers seemed laidback and relaxed, friendly smiles and waves exchanged frequently in passing, words of advice and encouragement spoken at length over lunch and prep times.

Three o’clock came faster than anticipated, and Bradley felt like he’d barely covered any of his plans for the day. At dismissal, he’d politely waved goodbye to each and every child, introducing himself to the parents he’d missed that morning at drop off, and greeting the ones he’d already met with brief updates about their child’s day. The last child to be picked up was a sweet little boy, with blonde hair and hazel eyes, freckles dotted across the bridge of his nose. Bradley’s brown eyes scanned over the attendance record in his hand. Wells Montgomery.

At 3:10, Wells had grown bored of kicking his soccer ball around the grassy area around the side of the school. He picked his ball up under his arm and hurried back to Bradley.

“Mr. Bradshaw, is my mom here yet?”

“Not yet, bud. She’s probably stuck in traffic coming over the bridge into town. You know, it gets really busy around now. Do you want to come inside and read for a little bit in the classroom?” Bradley squinted, the sun shining brightly into his eyes as he scanned the parking lot for anyone who might be Wells’ mother.

“Ok,” Wells said with a heavy sigh. Bradley furrowed his brow for a moment before looking back to Wells as the two of them headed back into the building.

By 3:20, Bradley was beginning to worry about his new pupil. He didn’t anticipate a parent going missing-in-action on him on his first day of teaching, but faced with the possibility, he began going through the list of possible actions he could take. Just as he pondered over the idea of taking Wells down to the staff room to rummage the cupboards for a still-at-school-after-school snack, you came practically flying through the door, a panicked expression on your face, cheeks reddening when you saw Wells sitting at his desk, quietly reading.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry! I got held up in a meeting until 2:45, and then traffic was a nightmare, everything was backed up and there’s only two ways onto the island but I couldn’t ditch my car to take the ferry over, I’m so sorry,” you apologized profusely, nodding your head as you looked from Wells, to the teacher seated in the desk and back again, unsure who you needed to apologize to more.

Bradley turned to face you, his eyes raking over you as he assessed the situation. Dressed in a fitted lilac coloured pencil skirt, white tank-top and matching lilac coloured blazer, you looked like something out of a dream to him. He’d never given much thought about what his type in women was before. He’d dated blondes, brunettes, redheads, the occasional girl with bright pink hair, curvy girls, petite girls, mid-sized girls - he never had much of a preference one way or the other as far as appearances went, but God, if he had to sum up his dream girl right now - you were it.

“It’s alright, honestly,” Bradley nodded his head, smiling warmly at you in an effort to ease your concerns. “I’m Mr. Bradshaw, Wells’ teacher for second grade. He’s had a great day today, we were just about to head down to the staff room and see if there were any rogue granola bars hiding in the cupboard for him and I to share.”

“Thank you,” you nodded, your expression softening as Bradley spoke, an instant wave of relief washing over you. “You ready to go, Wellsy?”

“Mom, please,” Wells whined, shaking his head as he grabbed his book and shoved it into his backpack. “She thinks I’m a baby,” he griped, turning to Bradley for a sympathetic smile.

“Moms, huh? Mine was the same way with me.” Bradley laughed softly, waving as you and Wells headed out.

Later that night, Bradley sat on his couch, settling in to watch a baseball game as he poured over the plans for the upcoming week. Cracking open his beer bottle, he sipped the drink, sighing tiredly as he read over the social studies plan, visiting the list of important historical figures he was expected to familiarize the class with over the course of the school year. With one hand, shakily written notes were made in a notebook, scribbling out ideas for fun ways to engage the kids with each important person he was required to introduce.

Setting the beer down on a coaster, he exchanged it for a slice of greasy pizza, his reward for himself at the end of a successful first day of school. He shovelled it into his mouth, sighing as he watched the baseball game unfold. The Padres were down 3-7 in the bottom of the eighth, with not much hope left for them to pull through tonight. Bradley swallowed his mouthful, brushing the grease off his hands onto the leg of his grey sweatpants.

Bradley yawned, tired bleary eyes blinking as he padded down the hallway to his bedroom. He sighed softly and settled into bed, his mind wandering as his head rested on the pillow. Before he realized it, you were on his mind. He’d thought about you a lot that evening, brief intrusions of your smile flashing through his mind as he tried to plan out the upcoming week.

This time though, as he laid there looking up at his ceiling, he thought about your apologies for being late, how it felt like you were pleading with him or Wells to not be upset with you. He thought about how your hair, although tousled from clearly running through parking lots to your car and to the school, framed your face perfectly, and how even in the harsh fluorescent lighting of the classroom, you managed to look nothing short of beautiful.

He thought about how well the soft, purple hue of your skirt and blazer suited you, bringing out the glow of your skin and the colour of your eyes. He thought about how it hugged your curves as you left, hand in hand with Wells, the swish of your hips as you walked down the hallway. He thought about how he was pretty sure he didn’t see a wedding band on your finger, but also admonished himself for even checking. He couldn’t date a student’s parent. He knew better than that.

But still, he couldn’t help but think about you.

The next couple of weeks went by and Bradley’s interest in you grew fonder. He’d begun watching for you subtly at morning drop-offs and pick-ups, hoping to at least say hello once a day. On the last Friday of the month, you stopped him as he headed for his car, watching as Wells played on the playground equipment facing the parking lot.

“Mr. Bradshaw!” you called out, and Bradley couldn’t help but feel like you were making his name sound like a chorus of angels singing.

“Hey, Mrs. Montgomery! Is everything ok?” Bradley asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Everything’s fine, yes,” you nodded, smiling as you gently corrected him about your name. You hadn’t been Mrs. Montgomery in two years, but, you couldn’t fault Bradley for slipping up, you knew the school secretary likely didn’t alert him ahead of time. You stifled a giggle as Bradley’s cheeks flushed red with embarrassment, now his turn to apologize profusely to you.

You waved a hand dismissively and smiled, turning to watch Wells play once again.

“You know, it may have only been a few weeks, but Wells speaks very highly of you,” you started, nodding in confirmation as you watched him play, your gaze turning to land on Bradley for a moment, “He hasn’t been this interested in anything since his dad moved across the country.”

“Oh? I’m glad I could help him enjoy school again. I try my best to keep things fun and exciting in the classroom — kids learn better when they’re excited and interested in something. No one has fun being read to from a textbook over and over again all day,” Bradley explained.

“Well, Mr. Bradshaw, you’re doing a really good job of it. He came home excited to tell me that he learned about George Washington yesterday. I’m pretty sure two days ago he had no idea who that was.”

“Please,” Bradley laughed softly, shaking his head, “You can call me Bradley. It’s less formal.”

“Bradley,” you repeated, nodding as you chuckled to yourself, “Bradley Bradshaw?”

“My dad had a sense of humour,” Bradley shrugged, looking out at the playground as Wells chased one of his friends around. “He’s a good kid, you know. Wells.”

“I know, I’m proud of how well he’s handling things now that his dad got relocated. Pensacola’s a lot further than he anticipated. He was hoping for Corpus Christi at least.”

Bradley’s ears piqued at the mention of Wells’ dad relocating. Pensacola and Corpus Christi both housed Naval Air bases, he was more than familiar with both of them. He’d only ever been stationed between Oceana, Miramar and North Island, but in his eighteen years of service, he’d met plenty of service members who hailed from one of the two bases originally.

“Wells’ dad is a pilot?”

“Mhmm, well, mechanic, actually. He doesn’t fly them in combat,” you commented, raising an eyebrow at Bradley. “You seemed to guess that really well. Most people don’t guess pilot.”

“I used to be a Naval pilot, m’am,” he nodded, smiling proudly as he thought about his accomplished Naval career once again. “Lieutenant Commander Bradley Bradshaw, US Naval Air Force. I was stationed at NAS Oceana, transferred here to North Island, wrecked my knee, now I’m a teacher.”

“That’s quite the pipeline into teaching, Lieutenant Commander.”

“Please, it’s Bradley. It’s nice not going by my rank, actually.”

“Well, Bradley, I’d love to hear how exactly you landed on teaching second grade as a backup to flying F/A-18s for the United States Navy some day.” You nodded, hoping Bradley wouldn’t take offence to the suggestion of getting together at some point. Even if it was just as friends, you’d welcome it.

“That sounds like a good idea to me, actually. I’d love to.”

As Bradley headed to his car, he felt a little bounce in his step. He couldn’t help himself. Even if this just turned into a friendship and nothing more, he felt grateful that you wanted to spend time getting to know him better.

His drive home was filled with more thoughts of you, thoughts of your pretty pastel coloured outfits you always seemed to favour, thoughts of your perfect smile, always beaming and cheerful, bright enough to brighten his entire day in a way that should make the sun jealous, thoughts of your hair, how it always looked so perfectly imperfect.

In bed that night, Bradley thought about your legs, how they were long and lean, curving at your thigh. He thought about how good your ass looked in your skirt earlier today, how the material hugged it tightly. He thought about your thighs, how they looked so perfectly smooth and soft, how your plain white t-shirt that was tucked into your skirt did little to hide the swell of your breasts, and the way the curve of your neck looked irresistible, how badly he wanted to plant his lips on your skin and cover you in a trail of kisses.

Bradley thought about you in a lot of ways that night. None of them were ways he was proud of. But as he stared up at the ceiling this time, you were the only thing on his mind. He didn’t know much about how he’d go about this newfound infatuation with you. All he knew was that if he was going to settle down with anyone, he was almost positive it would be with you.

#bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x y/n #rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw x you #rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster bradshaw x y/n

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