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ilovetopgunsstuff · 5 days
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Do you only write for Joe Burrow and Bradley Bradshaw or would you be able to write for Jake Seresin?
i’ll write for him too i just never got requests!
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ilovetopgunsstuff · 7 days
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Did you delete your original Joe fic??
if you’re talking about post game recovery, no it’s should still be there. let me know if you’re having trouble finding it or reaching it. i’ll check the link in the masterlist!
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ilovetopgunsstuff · 8 days
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overdue
joe burrow x reader
prompt: joe cancels last minute on you because he got caught up at work, and he makes sure you know how he feels about you when he gets home.
warnings- smut and fluff
a/n- promise i will be answering some of my requests soon. this is prolly ass because i wrote it kinda fast but i love it thx bye
Joe was a busy guy. It was always something. He had practice, or a meeting, or a conference call, or something. Of course you couldn’t blame him. He was pretty busy during the season, but was practically glued to you when he didn’t have anything to do.
The last few weeks, though, Joe was sooo caught up with work. When he got home for the night, it was so late that you were usually already asleep. If you weren’t, you knew he was too exhausted to do much anyway. He’d give you a kiss, head to the shower, and pass out next to you shortly after. He’d always apologize, but you knew he really couldn’t control it. So despite your frustration and loneliness, you said nothing.
Today would be different, he pulled some strings to get home around 8 so y’all could have dinner, watch something on TV, and enjoy each others company. It had felt so long since you did something like this, so it felt like a special occasion. Tonight, you were cooking his favorite meal. You grilled chicken, made potatoes, and sautéed asparagus. It was about 7:30, and you would be done right when he got home. Your phone rang, and seeing his name on the screen, you perked up.
“Hey!,” you said cheerfully into the phone.
“Hey…” His voice was soft and already apologetic. You knew the news before he even told you.
“You’re not gonna make it home?” you sighed into the phone. Your voice was almost a whisper. You wanted to cry. How was it every day that this happened? Was he doing it on purpose, trying to send a hint? Was something else going on than work? Tears already brimmed in your eyes.
“I’m so sorry. Something came up way last minute. I can’t make it, baby. I’ll be home late.”
“Okay.” Your voice cracked, and you knew he heard it. That’s all you could say. The silence on the line was so loud. What else did you have to say? You sat with your phone to your ear, the excitement in your posture leaving you. Your shoulders slouched and you could hear his breath still on the other line. Self-consciousness swallowed you. Was this a sign that it wasn’t working? Was it only a matter of time? “Well I guess I’ll see you later tonight.” Your voice was quiet.
“Yeah.”
Without any goodbyes or anything, the line disconnected. You weren’t sure who it really was that hung up. You were just in a haze. You finished dinner silently, eating alone standing at the counter. You made sure to still make Joe’s plate, though. You put the perfect amount of everything he liked on his plate, making sure no foods were touching like he liked it.
Maybe it would give him a small surprise when he got home, as he didn’t know you were cooking it. He could eat it when he got home and you were inevitably sleeping. It wouldn’t be as good as eating it with him, but hopefully he’d still like it.
You packed up the food to put on the fridge in a silent, melancholy state. You placed his plate on the oven for him to find when he got home. It was in the shower that you cried, shoulders wracking with heavy sobs of loneliness and fear of losing him. You were so frustrated. You couldn’t blame him, but that didn’t mean you weren’t still upset. You sunk into the soft sheets of the bed after putting on pajamas, slightly cold without his body next to you. Hot tears slid down your face silently as you dozed off.
Joe’s POV:
As silently as I could, I unlocked the door. I dropped my bags on the floor and the clock on the kitchen wall said it was 1 AM. I stretched and rubbed my eyes, exhausted from work and weighed down with guilt. Of course I couldn’t control being busy, but i shouldn’t have promised her that I would’ve been home if I wasn’t completely sure. I did, though, cause hearing her pretty excited voice on the phone after telling her I’d come home brought me to life, but hearing it get quiet after I called it off earlier made my chest hurt. It was dark in the house except for one light on in the kitchen. It was the light on top of the oven. There was something there.
I walked closer to the oven and my heart dropped to my stomach.
Fuck.
There, on top of the oven, was my absolute favorite meal, made by her. You could tell she plated it with care, the food not touching exactly how I liked it. My stomach hurt and so did my chest. Guilt surged through me painfully. There was a note too, and it made me want to quit my job entirely.
I’m sorry you couldn’t make it home. This is for you if you’re hungry. I love you so much. We’ll find the time.
Her pretty cursive carved my heart out with its sweetness. You wished she would just yell at you, tell you off for taking on too much and upsetting her. But she never would, cause she’s an angel, and supports me through whatever I do. How will I ever make this up to her?
Regular POV:
Joe crept up the stairs, trying not to wake you up. You had an ear for him though, and roused when the door creaked open.
“Oh hey,” you mumbled at him. “How was work?”
“Don’t worry about that,” he murmured. He stripped down to his boxers, and crawled into bed. He dragged you under him and engulfed you with his arms. “I’m so so sorry,” he said into your hair.
This sudden intimacy and affection was unexpected, and your eyes immediately watered with tears. “I’m sorry, Joe. I know your so tired and I don’t want you to feel bad.” You voice cracked to a whisper as you started to cry.
“Hey..” he said gently as he flipped you on top of him to look at you. You sat on his lap, tears streaming down your face in the moonlight from the window.
“I just miss you,” you breathed, crumpling onto him as he held you. Your body shook slightly with quiet sobs as he held you.
“I know, angel.” He rubbed your back and whispered on your ear. “I miss you so much. You know I love you more than anything don’t you? Huh?”
He grabbed your face, holding it gently with both hands as he looked at you. Your watery puppy eyes looked up at him, and his heart tugged. He wanted you to know that you really were his priority.
“I have been a very bad boyfriend. I’m so so sorry,” his blue eyes looked earnestly into yours as his blond hair messily fell in his eyes. “I don’t want you to think I’m doing this for no reason. I know we can get through this. I’m working like this because I want you to be able to have whatever the fuck you want every time you want it. You deserve it. I know it’s so hard. I’m really trying for us. And I want you to know it’s all because of you. “
It felt like you were melting into him.
“This is for you, and you only. If for one second I thought I’d lose you over this, I’d leave in a heartbeat. You have been a saint about this whole thing. Please just give me a little more time. Don’t give up on me. I love you so so much.”
Your hiccuping sighs were all that was left as you stared up at him. “I would never give up on you. I love you.” You relaxed fully on to him, cherishing what he feels like to touch and smell and experience.
It didn’t matter where you were, or what time it was, or what was happening around you. He was the only thing you could focus on or care about.
He pulled you in and kissed you gently. Running his hands across your middle, seemingly trying to memorize everything. He went under your shirt and cupped your breasts, lowering his kissing to your neck. He removed his hands from your shirt and placed them on your hips, which he firmly gripped as you lazily grinded on him. Small whimpers escaped his mouth as you did this, encouraging you in your lovesick state.
Joe gently unbuttoned your pajama shirt, the silk material sliding down your body slowly when he undid the last one. He caressed you gently, in no rush to savor you.
“So beautiful,” he whispered into the cool air of your bedroom.
You couldn’t respond as you focused in on his gentle touches. You were so honed in on how lightly he caressed you, afraid that if you didn’t savor it, you’d miss them. Small, quiet moans escaped your lips in ecstasy. You sat up to drag his boxers down his soft skin to where they didn’t limit your contact with him at all. You sat up, shorts still on, and ran your hand across his length, honing in on his tip. You massaged him, and his head lolled back onto the pillows.
“Yes,” he whispered.
The slowness of both of your actions was torturous and incredible at the same time. Endless touches and whispers disappearing into a night that was only your own. You slid down your shorts, anxious to finally have him. Joe looked angelic, soft tan skin glowing in the twilight. The blue of his needy eyes was nearly palpable. His roaming hands never stopped for a second. You lowered your self onto him slowly, a gasp being released by the both of you when you finally reached his hilt.
He pulled you into him, wrapping both arms tightly around you on top of him. He thrusted up into you, allowing you to remember every inch. Neither of you spoke, though you doubted either had the ability at the moment to form words. Your breathy moans filled the room, pleasure mixing together as you clung to him and he clung to you. The air was thick with need. For eachother, for touch, for everything.
Everything seemed to morph together despite the slow pace. It had been so long since Joe could show you how much he loved you, and god were you overdue. Finally, his thorough thrusts quickened slightly as he came. Your nails left trails down his back as you reached your high. All you both could do was cling on to each other, repeated “I love you’s” said into the air.
The work was worth it for him, so worth it.
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ilovetopgunsstuff · 15 days
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omg fr. that smut had me kicking my feet back and forth 🥰
i think i speak for everyone when i say we neeeed more 😍😍
definitely smut coming soon! sorry guys i’ve been a bit busy, but it is in the process. stay tuned
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ilovetopgunsstuff · 15 days
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Hey bestie
Wedding guest Joe had me going feral for the last few days, THAT HAIR LOOKS SO GOOD
Post game recovery had me screaming omg such a good piece of smut 😌💋
omgggg thank you so much. a little smut in your life is healthy im sure
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ilovetopgunsstuff · 16 days
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have mercy
looking like a DAMN MODEL omg
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New Heights Live 4/11/24
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ilovetopgunsstuff · 17 days
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YOUR JOE FIC WAS SOO GOOD!!!!!!
need more from you :)
ILY THANK YOU
there’s another coming within the next week or so
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ilovetopgunsstuff · 20 days
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post-game recovery
prompt- joe had a tough game. he didn’t necessarily do bad, but the team looked like they had no chemistry, and there was some questionable reffing, resulting in a loss. what does he do for the stress? he takes it out on you…
joe burrow x reader
a/n: as always pls give feedback and feel free to request
warnings: SMUT OMG SMUT MINORS DNI, nsfw under the cut
It was a tough watch. You sat in the suite, biting your nails as the Bengals played in Paycor Stadium. There was a good crowd today, but not a happy one. The ref missed a pass interference call, but then made a bad call against your team.
If things weren’t already bad, Joe got sacked twice, and the catches were dropped more than they should be. Overall, it was just a bad game.
Every time Joe went to the side, you watched him closely. His jaw was clenched, he was so tense. He sat and quietly watched the clock while he was out. When the game ended, he walked back to the locker room silently.
One of the other women in the suite was talking to you about something, but you couldn’t really focus on her. You were worried, because you knew that under all that silence and brooding, he just wanted to do well. That’s all he ever wanted to do. You hoped he wasn’t too upset on the drive home; you hoped he saw himself how you saw him.
It had been about 20 minutes since the game ended; it usually took about 30 after each game for Joe to come out the locker room.
You stood. You were wearing black high waisted pants, with an orange, tight-fitting short sleeve shirt. You wore orange Nike hightop dunks, and held a black zip up jacket over your arm that you had taken off earlier. Your hair and makeup was done for the game. You walked to the elevators, and made small talk with the other women and families on the way down. When you got to the bottom level where the players came out, you leaned against the wall to wait, and opened your phone. There was a recent text from Joe in your notifications.
Joe: I’ll be out in a second.
You stared at it for longer than you needed to, as if you could read his mood from a one line text. And he did come out. He took a little longer than he usually did. He came out with a simpler outfit than he came in, with the rest of his clothes in the duffel he carried, you assumed. He stared at you the whole time he walked over, his blue eyes seemingly more piercing than usual. You brushed your done hair behind your ear, suddenly shy under his gaze.
You knew he didn’t want you to talk about the game, it would just upset him. So you settled for a small, “Hi,” as he reached you.
He raised his eyebrows as he looked at you. His eyes were tired, though, more tired than they usually looked.
“Hey, baby.” He bit his lip absentmindedly. One hand on his duffel strap over his shoulder, he pulled you towards him with one arm, snaking down your back to cup your ass. He kissed you hungrily. He never did public stuff like this after games. It surprised you. He pulled away, and looked away, biting his lip absentmindedly. He held you by one finger as you both began the walk to the parking garage.
The walk to the car was silent. Joe’s sleek Porsche gleamed in the light of the parking garage. You took the drivers seat, as you always drove home after games.
The drive home was also silent. You assumed Joe probably wanted to be left alone, and you understood. If he didn’t want to talk, he didn’t have to, and you didn’t want to annoy him.
“Are you hungry?” you asked quietly, as you parked in the garage.
He shook his head no, staring off into space. You both began opening up your doors to go into your house. You closed and locked the door behind both of you.
He goes upstairs to change into his plain boxers, as he took a shower back in the locker room. You busy yourself with doing the dishes, wiping the counters, just cleaning in general. Afterward, there wasn’t really much else to do. Exhaustion from the day set in, and you realized that you’d been so preoccupied that you didn’t even take off your shoes yet. Your back hurt, and so did your feet. You leaned one hand on the counter to slip off each shoe with your other. Little did you know, Joe was watching you from the couch in the living room, which led into the kitchen. He’d sat there since he got back downstairs, just staring at you. He needed you, especially after a game that bad, and you looked so good.
You turned to go sit on the couch and stopped when you saw him. “Oh, I didn’t know you were in here.”
He sat on the couch with only boxers and socks on. His blonde hair was messy, his skin was tan. He also was not without his usual wristbands, his LSU one shone brightly against his tan wrist. He looked good, really good. And the way he was looking at you… You once again felt shy under his gaze. You thought he wouldn’t want to be talked to, so what was this?
“C’mere,” he told you, not breaking eye contact. It was like you were out under a spell. You would’ve went over there even if you didn’t want to.
You sat next to him on the couch, but it was seemingly not close enough for his liking, because he dragged you over to sit right beside him by the inside of your thigh, to where your legs were basically all the way in his lap. His hands were so big, he left one on the inside of your very upper thigh. You wished you would’ve already changed out of the clothes from the game. A small ache between your thighs cause you to squeeze them together slightly.
Joe didn’t seem to notice the squeeze on his hand as he boredly looked at the TV playing a random show. He rested his head on the couch and sighed.
“That game was fucking bullshit.”
“I know, I’m sorry.” His jaw was clenched again, and he squeezed your thigh.
He was so tense still. You wanted to help him.
“I don’t want you to be stressed,” you whispered as he pulled you all the way into his lap.
He hummed response, his eyes boring into you. He pulled your jaw in to kiss you. It was light at first, then he turned so hungry. He kissed you roughly, his hands going up your tight shirt to feel your skin. He couldn’t communicated to you how much he needed you, and he needed you bad. So bad that he couldn’t think straight. His hands on you wasn’t enough.
Slowly, you slid down, in between his legs, onto the rug that was at the foot of the couch.
He looked down at you with lidded eyes. “Oh my god,” he said as he realized what you were about to do. His hands twitched to grab you by the hair and fuck your mouth. “I wanna make you feel better,” you said quietly, looking up at him through your lashes. You palmed him, so lightly, through his boxers, a distinctive imprint already showing in them. You heard him let out a desperate breath.
“Fuck,” he breathed out. “Y/n.”
It didn’t take long for him to lose the boxers. You began by slowly running your tongue from his base to his pink tip, swirling your tongue over the head of his cock. You took the head into your mouth and looked up at him. His lips were parted and he looked down at you in ecstasy. Then it was like a band snapped inside of him. His hand came to grip your hair as he forced you down roughly on his length. Your moans and whimpers were muffled with him in your mouth. So much for your done hair. You felt tears come down your cheeks as he thrusted into your mouth, abs clenched and a sheen of sweat on his brow. His palpable frustration and aggression made for an aching slickness between your legs that was uncontrollable. You could feel the throbbing of his dick in your mouth, and you knew he was about to cum. You silently pleaded using your tongue for him to give it to you. You wanted to swallow every drop.
“Oh my god, Y/n. So good for me, angel,” He groaned out breathlessly. He was just about to cum when he lifted your head off of him. Your lips were flush and moist with saliva, and your mascara ran down your face in lines of tears. You couldn’t even look confused as to why he didn’t come in your mouth before he grabbed you.
He grabbed your arms to pull you up back onto the couch. “I wanna fuck you,” he said as he struggled to take off your clothes. You took your top off and he yanked at your jeans, the button of them eventually getting ripped off and jingling to the floor.
“I’ll buy you some new ones,” He said in a rush.
You couldn’t even respond because you were so focused on getting your clothes the fuck off. You were quickly left with just a bra and underwear. Joe undid the clasp with one swift movement of his hand, and your panties came off in a yank.
He pushed you down roughly to where you were laying on your back, fully naked, and slick between your thighs. One hand roughly squeezed your breast as one plunged two fingers into you. His mouth aggressively sucked and nipped at your neck, no doubt leaving dark purple marks in his path. His heavy breaths and your breathless whimpers and moans drowned out the droning of the TV.
He curled his fingers inside you, initiating a yelp from you. Your legs were spread, one dangling off the couch, your socks the only clothing left on your body.
“Please can I fuck you,” he whimpered into your ear. It contrasted with his usual gruff voice, but he needed this. It wasn’t long before he thrusted, in one smooth stroke, into your pussy. Every thrust caused you to cry out, and you pleaded with him out loud for nothing in particular. You were in complete ecstasy. He sat up from your ravaged neck and threw your legs over his shoulders to get deeper. His strong, tan, sweat slicked shoulders. His hand fumbled on your clit while the other held one of your legs in place.
Every thrust made an unholy sound echo through your living room, his grunts as he thrusted complimenting them. His bare cock stretched you, he was so big. Him rubbing on your clit made you so overwhelmingly pleasured. So much so that tears ran down the side of your face.
The pace and power of his thrusts quickened, and your legs began to tremble with you pushing toward your climax.
“Joe, I’m gonna cum.” You barely could get it out. You wanted him close to you, pressed against you so could cling to him. One arm gripping what you could of the couch cushion, the other reached out for his thick arm.
“I know, angel, me too,” he groaned, throwing his head back as he thoroughly fucked you. He knew what you wanted, how you liked to dig your nails into him to keep you grounded every time he fucked you this rough. So he dropped your legs back down onto the couch, and laid his full weight on top of you, wrapping his arms fully around your torso. He groaned and grunted with every thrust into your ear, his muscular, tan middle against your soft, pretty pale stomach.
You were cumming, and you said his name like a prayer as his pace didn’t slow down. You wrapped your legs around him as they began to tremble. He thrusted hard, clinging to you as you felt him cum in you. He pressed deep into you, and whimpered in your ear. Your nails were dug into his back, and you both came down from these highs together, savoring every drop of pleasure you both were feeling. A wave of drowsiness went through you.
“I love you so much. You did so good,” Joe murmured in your ear.
“I love you,” you said softly. He got up off you, slipping his boxers back on as he sat on the couch. You weren’t so quick to bounce back from the events that just took place.
You laid on your back, legs splayed pressed together to the side.
“Hey.” Joe slipped his hand between the fold of your stomach and thighs to gently rub your stomach. “You wanna go upstairs?” He whispered as he gazed at you with care and concern.
“I don’t think I can walk,” you said, drowsy.
A small chuckle escaped his lips. He stood, grabbing you under your knees and back to carry you up the stairs.
“I look ridiculous,” you whined, as you leaned your head on his chest to look up at him.
He shook his head, smirking, making it to your room. He genuinely thought you looked beautiful. You lay undressed in his arms, lips and neck flush from his manipulation, the only blemishes on your otherwise flawless skin. Your long eyelashes over your lidded gaze made his head spiral, and made him remember how he got you here in the first place. He gently placed you on the bed, pulling the covers over your shivering body. He went around to get in on his side, and gently pulled you close to him in the dark.
“You okay?” he asked quietly.
“Mmhm,” you responded, half asleep.
“That wasn’t too hard?” You smiled with your eyes closed at his care for you.
You hummed a no, and you felt him smile against you. Before you passed out, you blabbed one last thought.
“I think we’re gonna have to wash the couch, like everything on the couch.”
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ilovetopgunsstuff · 20 days
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oh my god he looks delicious here
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ilovetopgunsstuff · 23 days
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CAN SOMEONE PLS DEBUNK OR CONFIRM IS THERE GOING TO BE A TOP GUN 3
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ilovetopgunsstuff · 1 month
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heyyy!! i love your writing especially the night shift! i was wondering if i could submit a request for bradley? just him being physically affectionate and always having a hand on you (i feel like that’s his love language idk idk), maybe we’re at the hard deck with the dagger squad and it’s just super fluffy! overall rooster is just hubby material, and maybe there’s a cute kiss or make out sesh outside the hard deck or against his bronco! i trust you haha and i love your writing so whatever you think works! :))
touchy
prompt: it doesn’t matter where you are, but bradley HAS to touch you, it’s his love language it doesn’t matter where on your body: on your arm, thigh, knee. for a tall gruff military guy, he’s like a little teddy bear
warnings: literally js fluff, maybe a little suggestive
a/n: this was such a cute request, hope you enjoy!
“Christ, are you ready yet?” Bradley called from your couch. It was easy for him to say; all he had to do was put on a Hawaiian shirt, a tank top, and jeans. You, however, had to shower, shave your legs, dry and style your hair, do your makeup, pick and outfit, the list goes on.
Bradley acts annoyed, but secretly he enjoys it. He’d wait for you forever. He loved laying on your couch, already dressed for wherever you were going, and listening to you get ready. He’d continue to act annoyed every time, though, cause your little eye roll as he complained was worth it. He was itching to get up and go see you in the bathroom, but you barred him from entering while you were doing your makeup so you could “be in your zone.” He’d pretend he wasn’t bothered by it, but every second he was away from you he wished he wasn’t. He wanted to touch you, kiss you, smell your perfume, anything. He wanted you, all the time.
Tonight, the team was going to the Hard Deck since it was Friday. It was a spot you two would attend regularly, but Bradley loved how done up you got every time you went. Without fail, you were the most beautiful girl in the room, makeup or not, and he’d tell you that over and over.
“Shush,” you replied, spraying one last bit of perfume on before stepping out of the bathroom. You smoothed out your dress, which was light blue, and it hugged your curves so well. You hadn’t looked up at him yet, but you heard a whistle.
He stood up, not hiding that he was looking you up and down. You thought you heard a “damn” whispered under his breath but you weren’t sure. You also weren’t completely sure about your outfit.
“I really don’t know if I like these heels. It was between these and another pair and I might go-“
“You look perfect,” he said as he grabbed both your hands, pulling you into him. You felt his hands snake down to grab your ass, and he couldn’t help but kiss your neck. “So perfect,” he murmured into your skin, “that we could skip the whole bar thing and just stay at home. And if you’re unsure about the shoes, I could take those right off for ya.”
You pulled yourself away from him to keep from possibly agreeing. “Bradleyyy, you love the Hard Deck!”
“That I do,” he said as he pulled you back to him. “You know what I love more?”
“Hm?”
“My girl.”
You could help but shyly smile. “Well,” you stated, “tell her she can wait then.”
He scoffed at your joke as he nuzzled into your neck.
“Come on, let’s go!” you turned around and dragged him by the hand out the front door.
He groaned as he followed after you like a puppy. You walked like this all the way down the gravel path to the driveway. He opened the Bronco door for you on the passenger’s side, then walked around and got into the drivers seat.
As soon as he turned on the car and started driving, his hand took its common place on the inside of your upper thigh. His thumb absentminded rubbed your skin gently. You looked over at him and just watched him. His mustache and hair together looked so good against his tan skin and flowy Hawaiian shirt.
“What?” he was at a red light, and he lolled his head to look at you with his sunglasses on.
“Nothing.”
A small smirk was on his face as he looked back forward, giving your thigh a squeeze.
“I love you,” he murmured.
“I love you, too,” you whispered.
- - -
The Hard Deck was crowded tonight, but it didn’t take long to find your group. You met Phoenix at the bar; she was standing there talking to Penny, who greeted you with a drink. You smiled at her and joined in on their conversation.
Rooster was in the process of being convinced by the guys to play a game of pool.
“Mind if we steal your girl for a little while, Rooster?” Penny called out over the noise of the crowd and music.
“If you promise to give her back.” He smiled at her.
He then kissed you on the cheek from behind, squeezing your hips as he whispered that he’d come find you later before he got dragged off. Your knees almost buckled, you wouldn’t lie. Phoenix looked at you with feigned admiration.
“Aren’t you two just adorable?” she teased.
“Two peas in a pod,” Penny quipped, winking at you.
You couldn’t even be annoyed at them, because you were beaming. “Whatever, guys.”
“So… what’s been going on with you two? Spill!” Phoenix pressed you.
You knew Penny would never ask you that sort of question outright, but she was definitely leaning in to hear.
You loved having girl talk, and you could talk about Bradley for hours and hours, happily bending to Phoenix’s wishes. You glanced over to the pool table to find Bradley laughing with the cue in his hand, a beer in the other. You girls’ conversation went on into the night as you lost track of time.
- - -
Bradley played a tipsy game of pool with Hangman, Bob, and Coyote while the others sat and watched, sipping lazily on beers. He and Bob won of course, and game after game went by into the night. Every once in a while, he’d glance up at you, making sure you were still there and he could still see you. You had no idea how bad he just wanted to take you home in that dress, but he’d wait it out. Seeing you so happy talking with your friends was worth it.
Before he knew it, though, he was a few beers in and he just couldn’t get you off his mind. He checked his watch and time had flown. It had been a few hours since you got here, and it was now a little before 1 AM.
- - -
You’d stopped drinking after your second drink; you didn’t feel like getting drunk tonight. The crowd was dying down and so was your energy.
“Well, ladies, I think it may be time to call it. I’m tapping out,” you told them. They agreed with you.
“I was thinking that also. Need help closing or anything, Penny?” Phoenix asked as she looked around for Hangman, Bob, and Coyote, the group she came with.
“Oh I’m good. Not much left to do around here,” Penny responded as she finished polishing glasses. “You girls have a good night.” You and Phoenix thanked her. Phoenix hugged you goodbye, promising to call you tomorrow and saying that she’d see you at work Monday.
Then it was just you. You looked around at the dwindling crowd, narrowing your eyes to try and find-
Then his familiar arms slid around your waist.
“Hey, baby,” he whispered.
You turned in his arms, and you were now face to face with him. “Hi,” you smiled up at him. “I’m tired.”
“Me, too.” He couldn’t get his hands or gaze off you. He just looked down at you while holding you close. It was his favorite thing to do. “Lead the way.”
And you did, all the way out to his car. The parking lot was void of people except for you two. He hadn’t kissed you in so long. As soon as you got out of sight from everyone he backed you against his car and his lips passionately met yours. His hands roamed so desperately. You hummed in surprise as his hands found the back of your thighs and lifted you onto the hood of his car.
“I’m sorry baby,” he said through kissing you. “I know we should continue this at home, I just want you so bad.”
“Take me home, then,” you said breathlessly. All of your self control was gone by now.
“Gladly.”
And boy did he speed home.
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ilovetopgunsstuff · 1 month
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masterlist
Bradley Bradshaw
night shift (can be read as standalone or series)
is it casual now? (sequel to night shift)
touchy (one-shot)
- - -
Joe Burrow
post-game recovery (one shot)
overdue (one shot)
- - -
open to requests!
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ilovetopgunsstuff · 1 month
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is it casual now?
prompt: the mission is only in a few weeks now, and you and bradley have only gotten closer. however, a heated argument erupts between the two of you. what is bradley masking, and what does it reveal?
warnings: lots of angst, mention of age gap, emotional roller coaster really
a/n: it’s a long one. again i love feedback. this is a sequel to night shift, which can be read as a stand alone or a two part series
“I just don’t want you going.” He raised his voice as he refused to look you in the eye.
“How could you say that? After all the work I put in? that we’ve both put in?” Your voice wavered with the raising of his voice. Where could this be coming from?
- - -
He had gotten cold all of a sudden, one night laying in his bed together. You had been talking about nothing in particular, and the subject of the upcoming mission had been brought up. Laying on his chest, you felt him tense, as if he was made of stone. You had picked your head up, feeling this change, and furrowed your eyebrows. He was no longer looking at you like he usually did, but looked sort of through you.
“I need to shower,” he had said. As of a few weeks ago, he always brought you along with him. Tonight, he brushed past you, sort of gently shoving you away from him, hinting that this time, you genuinely weren’t invited. So you sat, alone, staring at the ceiling thinking. What did you do wrong? Was he just tired? Uncomfortable? Your heart quickened in pace and your nerves heightened.
He came back out, later than normal, and you were still awake. You sat up,
looking at him, studying him, trying to read him.
“You need to sleep.” He rifled around in his drawer for pajama bottoms. Still, no eye contact was made. He found them, and pulled them up over his boxers, wearing no shirt. What was his problem?
“Did I do something?” You said it so quietly and unsure that it was almost a whisper.
“…No, what do you mean?” He asked it less as a question and more as a statement, robotic. As if it was a prerecorded response. He began to walk out of the room, you assumed towards the kitchen.
You stood, unable to even fathom what was happening. This didn’t help your stress whatsoever.
“Bradley.” It sounded so pathetic, needy and confused. You followed him down the hallway, eventually getting in front of him. He was forced to stop.
“Hm?” Eyes on the ground.
“You won’t even… look at me.” Your brows were furrowed in confusion. What did you do? He sighed.
“Do you want me to fucking look at you?” His voice was so cold it sounded unfamiliar. So much so that your breath hitched. He finally did look at you, but there was nothing affectionate in his eyes. If anything it was exasperated.
Your breath hitched in your throat. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, a tug in your chest.
“What the fuck is your problem?” you whispered, since you were so close to him.
He didn’t answer. He just threw his arms up and rubbed his eyes in frustration.
You masked your pain and confusion with anger. “You were fine the whole night and all of a sudden you’re being a dick? We started talking about the mission and now you wanna go mute again-”
“You shouldn’t even be going on that fucking mission.”
Silence.
“What is that supposed to mean?” You sort of squeaked it out in the silence. Your voice was soft, calmer than you felt. Why would he say that?
“I just don’t want you going.” He raised his voice as he refused to look you in the eye.
“How could you say that? After all the work I put in? that we’ve both put in?” Your voice wavered with the raising of his voice. Where could this be coming from? “What, you think I’m not good enough?”
“You’re too young for this shit. I should’ve known...” He looks like he wants to say more, but he just scoffs and looks away.
“Should’ve known?” You were so taken aback by his words. Should’ve known what? About you?
“Yeah I should’ve.” He spoke so sharply. He looked at you through his brows. You tried to look strong, but he was so much taller than you, and you were sure you felt your lip quiver. He licked his lips and his eyes flicked away. They would almost look regretful if he didn’t look back at you with the same guarded expression.
“So you regret this? This was all just casual to you?”
He didn’t answer. He just looked on.
You scoffed, and brushed past him. You grabbed what clothes you could, and tried to breathe to keep from crying in front of him. He followed you into the room.
“What the fuck are you doing, y/n?” he asked, his voice tugged at strings in your chest.
“Going home.” Your voice cracked. You took off his sweatshirt that you wore and threw it at him. He caught it against his chest. You grabbed your purse, made sure you had your keys, wallet, and phone.
“Y/n.”
You pushed past him, making your way down the hall to his door.
“Y/n, it’s the middle of the night.”
“Trust me, I know. It’s usually the only time you acknowledge me for something.”
You don’t know if he had any expression on his face. You just opened the door and closed it behind you. You walked to your car, and felt like you couldn’t breathe.
The drive home was a silent one, with quiet sobs, and small, quiet breaths. When you got home, your own house looked bland. You were so stupid, you knew this wouldn’t end well. You were so young and naive, and look what happened.
You fell asleep sometime around two.
- - -
Training next morning was miserable. You were too fast on the course, fucking it up for everyone else on the team. Bradley said nothing to you except for a stiff, “Morning,” since everyone was watching you two. Phoenix tried to ask you what was wrong; you were usually the most precise one on the course, and the only one that had made it to the target on time. You just told her you didn’t get much sleep.
After work, you got home and melted into the couch. You had turned on some random show, and you stared blankly at it for hours. A ring of your phone snapped you out of your dazed state. You almost hoped it was a certain someone, even after everything. It wasn’t.
“Hey, Phoenix.”
“We’re going out tonight, and I’m gonna get you laid!” her voice was so cheerful on the other line.
“I’m not-“
“I will not take no as an answer. Dress in as little as possible! We’ll pick you up.”
She hung up, and you forgot about her words too quick to wonder who “we” was, and if it was the exact person you hoped to avoid.
So you would go. You would put powder over your baggy eyes and mascara over damp lashes, because you had to be okay.
- - -
Rooster POV
Fuck. I’m so fucking stupid. I let myself act like that to her because I think everyone in the navy is gonna turn up like my dad. Now I lost her because I’m a dick who doesn’t know how to say his fucking feelings. The only person around I actually care for I fucked over.
I just don’t want her going on the mission. I’d rather her hate me forever and not go on it than to really lose her. And she does hate me. I know now. I saw it in her anger, heard it in her words. But of course I didn’t accomplish anything. I just hurt her.
Phoenix wants me to drive herself, Hangman, and Bob to the Hard Deck. I don’t feel like it, but fuck it. I need a drink.
- - -
A text dinged on your phone from Phoenix. “We’re here.”
You looked at yourself in the mirror. You didn’t look how you felt. You would let Phoenix believe she was helping. She’d introduce you to some shitty guy who’d mansplain the navy to you, and you wouldn’t end up going home with him and make up some excuse. God, you needed a drink.
You touched up your appearance in the mirror. Your makeup was flawless, and your hair was straightened out long. You donned a tight black dress, with long sleeves, and it was a little short for your liking. You grabbed your purse and sighed. Here goes nothing.
It was when you stepped outside that you realized who the “we” was in the text. Outside your light blue house sat a shiny Ford Bronco. You almost tripped over your feet. You had to pretend like everything was fine.
Phoenix catcalled you out the window. You reached the car and opened the door. It was crammed. You ended up sitting four people in a three person row. As you started driving, you looked up at the rear view mirror, seeing Bradley, driving with his eyes forward. His face was freshly shaved, except for the mustache. Of course he looked good. Of course he felt fine. Of course you were already miserable.
The drive to the Hard Deck felt like the longest drive in the world. After you parked, everyone was giddy, and whooping and cheering. You were left behind them, walking slowly. You had a buddy, though. Just the man you didn’t want to see.
He twirled his keys on his finger, the jingle of them the only sound between you two. You glanced sideways too look at him. His eyes looked forward, a solemn expression. Thank god you were almost to the door. Coyote met you there.
“Woooooo you guys are here, finally!” Coyote has obviously already had something to drink as he was waiting for your car to arrive. He threw his arm around Rooster and disappeared into the busy evelin crowd with him. You pushed through the crowd alone to the bar, where Phoenix already had a shot waiting for you. Based on your misery, it would be the first of many. You felt a tap on your shoulder next to you, and turned around, thinking it was someone from the team.
“I hope a guy didn’t buy that for you,” a guy said. He had jet black hair and blue eyes, and by the looks of him was obviously in the Navy. You rolled your eyes.
“What if one did?”
“Then I have some bad news for him.” He introduced himself after that, some name you wouldn’t remember. He talked your ear off about nothing in particular, how great he was, how tough he was, the works. You tuned him out and traced your finger absentmindedly on the varnished wood bar. If you were going to put up with this, you were gonna need another drink. You glanced around the room, looking for anyone, preferably Phoenix, to save you from this situation. Then you saw it.
There he was, against the wall next to the music box, and he wasn’t alone. Next to him stood one of the prettiest girls you had probably ever seen. She was blonde, and shorter than you. She had a perfect body, and perfect makeup. She looked nothing like you. They spoke and laughed. She touched his arm and whispered something to him. He smirked at whatever she said and whispered something back. Suddenly you felt like throwing up. Your dress felt wrong on your body, your makeup felt like too much, your hair felt frizzy. Your face went stark white, you were sure.
You were so frozen by the sight that whatever man was standing next to you actually paused his talking. You had to get out of here. You needed air or you would hyperventilate.
“Excuse me,” you squeaked. You felt dizzy. You pushed your way to the door to the back deck. It was so crowded and you wished you could go home. You passed Phoenix on your way out.
“Hey!…Are you okay? You look so pale.” She furrowed her brows at the sight of you. She put her hand on your arm.
“I- I need air. I’m going outside.”
“Oh…okay.”
Finally, you reached the doors. You walked out onto the back deck to watch the waves. You just wanted to go home, but you had no ride, and nobody to tell what was really going on. Did he really move on that fast? Did he even have to move on at all? Maybe he didn’t even see you as that much. She was so pretty it hurt. You found yourself tearing up again. You titled your head upward and tried to think about something else. You couldn’t act upset. The doors opened behind you, and the sound of the crowd spilled out. You heard a giggle behind you. You turned. You really couldn’t catch a break. You and Rooster locked eyes, and surprise show in them.
“Oh, sorry,” the blonde giggled. “We didn’t think anyone was out here.”
You said nothing, just stared at them blankly. Rooster dragged her back inside, his smiley mood that he had with her earlier gone. He didn’t break eye contact before he turned around. You couldn’t read his expression. Smugness? Apologetic? Bored?
It didn’t matter. He found himself something new to keep in his sheets like he did you. What an idiot you were for thinking you were more. You sat blankly staring at the shoreline. That was your last straw. You were leaving, and you didn’t care how much an Uber would cost to get you out of here.
You went inside to go tell Phoenix you were going home.
- - -
Rooster POV
I had to get my mind off her. She looked so good in that dress, but her eyes were so blank and miserable. I caused it, and I don’t know what to do. I walked into the bar and met some girl. I needed a distraction. She was some ditsy girl from up the coast, but she’d do. Her freckles, in the light of the bar, almost looked like the one’s Y/n had. Almost. It was a mistake. I tried to take her outside, but there she was. I’m such a dick. Y/n didn’t look well. She was pale and exhausted. The blonde dragged me back inside somewhere, but I couldn’t stop thinking of her.
I was dragged into one of the hallways of the bar, and whatever girl I was with pulled me into the shadows. She kissed me, and I hate to say I kissed her back. I wanted to pretend.
“Y/n,” I whispered in between kisses.
It abruptly stopped as I realized what I’d said.
“…who is Y/n?” The girl backed up.
“Shit.”
I think she got the idea, because she was gone pretty soon after that. I was alone again now. I didn’t feel like doing anything except running to her, to Y/n. I couldn’t, though, all because of me. Now she thinks I don’t care, that I don’t respect her. I’m not used to sleeping alone. The dreams were bad last night, and I woke up alone. I fucked up, bad.
- - -
You didn’t even make it inside before someone grabbed your arm. You turned and it was the guy from earlier. You were the only people on the deck outside. It was dark, with lighting steaming onto it from the glass doors of the bar. Other than that, though, it was a dark patio of wood floors and picnic tables.
“We didn’t finish our conversation from earlier.” He said. His face was hard to make out in the darkness. The sentence sounded less like a request to keep talking and more of a demand.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I, uh, was just about to leave.” You really just wanted to call your Uber and go home. You had been on the verge of tears all day, now more than ever.
“Oh come on, stay a while.” His grip hadn’t left your arm. If anything, it tightened. You tried to step back, but you hit the rail of the deck. He was drunk. You could smell it on his breath. Your heart rate picked up slightly. No one was out here, and he wouldn’t let you go.
“No, I think I should really get going. Please, just- I need to go home.” The last part sounded like you were begging, but you were scared.
He chuckled, and stepped closer. You were leaned back as far over the rail as possible. “We haven’t even had any fun yet-“
“I think she fucking asked you to leave her alone.” You had no idea where he came from, but Rooster basically appeared behind him.
The guy hardly gave him a glance. “I don’t think this concerns you,” he said. “Does it baby?” The question made your stomach flip.
In a split second, the man was pulled off of you, and snatched by Bradley face to face. “Did I fucking stutter? I swear to God if I ever see you here again-“ He looked stern, and so much bigger compared to the guy in front of him. His jaw is clenched, all his muscles taut, seen through his white t-shirt. He looked like he could lose control in a split second, just waiting for this guy to make the wrong move.
“Okay man, fine I’m sorry!” And just like that, the guy was gone.
You didn’t really know how to feel. You just sat there and stared at Bradley in front of you. He was actually looking at you this time. Your arm tingled where the guy held you so tight.
You wanted him, but you hated him. You hated him for making you feel so bad about yourself. You hated him for everything, but the only person you want to run to is him.
“Are you uh-“ He was probably about to ask if you were alright. You couldn’t speak to him. He did so much to you but you didn’t trust yourself. You could just fall back in. All the emotion from the past few days welled up in your head.
“It’s fine. I’m going home.” You were short with him, looking down at the ground to keep from making eye contact. It hurt so bad to look at him, knowing he’s not really yours, no matter how bad you want him.
“How are you getting home?”
“Uber.”
“That’s not safe during this time of night. Please just let me take you home.”
“Please don’t do this to me Bradley,”Your voice was so cold, but it still sounded like you were begging him for something. It had to be, because if not, you’d just break down into tears.
“Do what?” He just looked at you.
“Act like you care. You didn’t last night. Just let me go home. Please.” On the last word, your voice cracked. Shit.
“Do you think I don’t care?” He mumbled, and took a step closer to you.
“I know you don’t, Bradley! You don’t take someone you care about home night after night to sleep with them and then ignore them all of a sudden. Then you blow up on me for no reason at all, and the day after you do start hanging out with some random bitch at the bar? You were probably planning to do with her exactly what you did with me, because you think I’m disposable. You think that after everything, you can just throw me out when you’re done with me. And you did.” So much for not crying, cause now, there were tears streaming down your cheeks. You weren’t even yelling at him, you couldn’t. You were talking with your hands, and on the last sentence you pointed your finger into his chest as you looked up at him. You were spouting out everything you felt to him, and you regretted it as soon as it came out of your mouth. It must have been the shots talking. “So- so don’t act worried now. I don’t-”
“Jesus Christ. Everything I do is because I’m worried! Can’t you see that? I don’t keep girls around a lot. Ever. But I kept you around. It’s not casual, Y/n. It’s scary. I care for very few people. The navy took one of them from me. It makes my chest hurt to think that could possibly happen to you, too. And you can hate me. I’m willing to be the worst guy in the world if it means you’re safe. I mean it. And I know I’m an idiot. I don’t give a fuck about that girl, I don’t even know her name. I thought it would make me stop thinking about you so fucking much. It didn’t. It’s every hour of every day, and it’s torture. I need you. All the time, every day I want you near me, Y/n.“ He didn’t realize everything he said until he stopped saying it. His hair wasn’t as neat as it usually was. He was talking with so much emotion; it was the most passionate you’d ever seen him. And all his words made you do was cry. You didn’t know exactly what you felt. Happiness, relief, longing? At some point during his talking he’d grabbed your arm so you’d know how much he meant this. He held you so gently, but with so much desperation. You just looked up at him. You couldn’t speak, you just listened to him. “I- I… Fuck. I’m sorry. I don’t-“
You stumbled into his arms and cried. Again, you weren’t sure why. His embrace wrapped fully around you. It was the most secure you’d ever felt. He looked down at you as he rested his chin on the top you your head. His pulse was fast in his chest, you heard it.
“I know. I’m so sorry,” He whispered to you, and only you. You looked up at him, you were sure your makeup was fucked up in some way.
“You’re so beautiful,” he mumbled. He cupped your face with both of his hands and pulled you into him. His soft lips brushed yours and he kissed you with so much passion, but so careful. Your stomach turned as you stood on your toes to get more of him. You never wanted it to stop. You never wanted him to stop, and you hoped he never would.
When you finally pulled away, Bradley smiled at you. “I can’t walk back through the bar looking like this,” You giggled.
He laughed, and looked down at the wood deck. Was he blushing? “We can go around the side to my car. You still gonna refuse that ride or..?”
You swatted him with your hand. “What about the others? How will they get a ride home?”
“They can Uber.”
You feigned shock. “At this time of night? Soooo dangerous.”
He licked his lips and rolled his eyes trying to look annoyed at you, but the smile on his face was evident. “Come on,” he tugged you by your hand around the building to the parking lot, and threw his arm around you as you walked.
“So uh, my house or yours?” you asked shyly.
“Hmm, I could use a change of scenery.”
“It’s decided then.”
So you guessed it wasn’t casual anymore.
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ilovetopgunsstuff · 1 month
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plsss lmk
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ilovetopgunsstuff · 1 month
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night shift
bradley bradshaw x reader
prompt- training for the mission is underway, and y/n has slept in bradley bradshaw's bed for more nights than she'd like to admit. when rooster has a bad dream next to her, it gets a little more personal than no strings attached should get
warnings- angst, cursing, ptsd mentioned, sex mentioned, not exactly smut
An: may be some typos, please give feedback and don't be afraid to request!
Y/n stared at the ceiling, enjoying bradley's arm wrapped tightly around her middle before they had to go back to pretending theyre just friendly collleagues during the work day. 
She hadn't meant to have anything start between the two of them, but a drunken night at The Hard Deck changed that a few weeks ago. Rooster smelled good that day, tan and sculpted by the sun. Maybe his tank top was a little too tight, Hawaiian shirt a little too flowy. She had always thought he was attractive, but the alcohol really brought it out of her. They had been talking all night, rooster bought Y/n a drink. She cracked a tipsy joke and a lopsided smirk grew on his pretty face as he looked at her, head tilted. That's when she knew it was over for her.
Y/n thought she was in the clear when they all left the bar. She just had to go grab her charger from inside his house. Then he asked if you wanted water to sober up before driving home. Harmless. Then you couldn't reach the cup in his cabinet to get said water. Then he came up behind you to grab it for you, brushing against you slightly as he mumbled a "sorry" under his breath right beside you, almost touching your ear. It was then that your last shred of self-control somehow diminished, landing you right into his bed for the night. 
It's been a few weeks since then, and you keep ending up here. It was supposed to just be friends with benefits, no strings attached. But sometimes it wasn't, even though neither of you would admit it. The way he splayed his massive hands across your stomach as he fucked you, gently pushing down so it'd feel better for you. The way that he would trace across your skin with his finger until you fell asleep, whispering praises in your ear, telling you how good you did. It was when he thought you fell asleep that he went to take a shower, kissing you on the forehead while running his thumb gently across your cheek. The two of you never really discussed what you were, you just were. These nights seemed to be doing more harm than good for you. It was hard to stay detached from something like this, spending your nights with someone so often. He didn’t feel like you did, you were sure, so you’d settle. You would take the nights over nothing, but that didn’t mean it didn’t sting during the day. 
The glow of Bradley’s alarm clock read 1:34 AM. His room was nicer than you’d expect. More than two pillows on the bed, light blue sheets, ivory paint on the walls. Your favorite part though, was the decor that made Rooster who he was, the decor that nobody else on the team had probably ever seen. Old baseball photos, pictures of his graduating class, polaroids of the beach, of his bronco. It made the room feel warm.
Now here you were, trying to soak it all in before it was a secret again. He hadn’t taken a shower tonight, and wore only boxers next to you. He had fallen asleep on top of you, holding you tight, though he had since rolled over to beside you. He looked so peaceful sleeping, his face void of the serious expression he usually took on. You were laying pressed against him, his arm around your middle holding you in place. You had pulled on some clothes since the hookup, and you now donned one of Rooster’s big t-shirts and your underwear. All your other clothes were trailed around his house somewhere. All you could hear was the combination of your breaths in the late night, and you began to doze off again. 
Then his breath hitched. His arm snaked away from you as he shifted in his bed. His breathing became more rapid, and a sheen of sweat show on his forehead. His dog tag glistened in the night as they jingled across his bare chest. He was having a bad dream. 
This was normal for the military. Bad, traumatic memories linger in the back of your head. It hits you when you least expect it. It even taints your dreams. Everything you refuse to remember when conscious comes to haunt you at night. You have it too, and seeing him like this made your chest ache. He was mumbling now. 
“No no no,” he mumbled. You sat up. He had his jaw clenched; his whole body was tense as he continued mumbling. The breathing didn’t slow. 
“Rooster,” you said out loud, putting your hand gently on his and squeezing. “Rooster,” you said again, louder.
He stayed dreaming. 
“Bradley.” You spoke loud enough but gentle. It was hard coming out of these dreams.
He drew a sharp breath in and sat up, muscles rippling across his back and stomach as he moved. He used the heels of his hands to rub his eyes as he seemed to catch his breath. Your hand hadn’t left his. 
“It’s okay, It’s okay. You were just dreaming,” you say as he tries to get his bearings. You push his hair out of his eyes. It’s messy from sleeping. Still holding his hand, the rapid beating of a pulse can be felt coming from his wrist. 
“Fuck,” he whispered under his breath. The covers were pooled at his waist and he looked up at you. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for- I don’t-“
“Don’t apologize. Here,” you handed him your water from his bedside table. In a quieter voice, you say, “You’re not the only one it happens to. I usually wake up a lot less graceful than you.” You try to let out a small laugh, more nervous than amused, but it wasn’t really funny. Many times have you woken up, tangled in the sheets alone, struggling to get away from something that’s not even there. It’s PTSD, and the military can only do so much to help. The damage is already done, the memories already happened. He looked at you, watching everything you did. He looked exhausted, even though he’d been sleeping. Drained. 
“Thank you,” he whispered, like he didn’t want to disturb any more peace. “Did I wake you up?”
“No.” You didn’t really have any explanation other than that. Oh I was staying awake to remember your touch so I miss it less during the day. Yeah, like that would’ve gone over smooth. 
He nodded. “That’s good,” he said. He ran his hand through his hair, the other that you’re holding still limp in the bed. You (tried to) smoothly let his hand go and put your hand back in your lap. You wanted to do something for him, to help, but thats not what you were here for. It wasn’t your place. You were just a girl in his bed to him. Your hands itched to run through his hair, across his skin, but you couldn’t. “I’m probably gonna go take a shower,” he said.
And off he goes again, didn’t even wait for you to fall asleep this time. You nodded, suppressing the sigh that wanted to erupt out of your chest. 
He gets up, kicking the covers off. He stood in the middle of the hard wood floor of his bedroom, boxers only. The only light was from the moon and the glow of his alarm clock. His muscular silhouette walked towards the bathroom, then faltered, seemingly looking back. 
“Oh. Are you not- uh…” he trails off in the dark. Did he want you to come?
“Oh…I didn’t know I was allowed to.”
You couldn’t see him, but heard a low chuckle in the dark. “..allowed to?”
“Oh shut up,” you said as you rolled out of bed, but you couldn’t help but smirk a bit. You squinted as he flipped on the lights to the bathroom, not bothering to close the door since you were both in there. You took a chance and looked in the mirror. Your hair was wild, with your mascara running down your face in faint lines. What a charmer. 
Bradley had his back turned, turning the shower on. He turned, thumbing the waistband of his boxers to take off. You began to strip as well, and all of a sudden felt shy. He did this to you all the time, but doing it yourself while he watched made your cheeks tinge pink. The overhead light reflecting off the white tile walls didn’t help either. You slid your panties off easily and they dropped to the floor. Then the shirt.  
He pulled you by the hand, and you both stepped under the hot water. 
Once again, he met your gaze. He was being so quiet. 
“What are you looking at?” He tilts his head at you with a slight smirk, his eyes still seemed tired.
“Just…you.” You’re guessing that you’re not hiding your worried expression very well. Your eyes flicked downward and you bit your lip. 
“I’ve still got a pulse, you know, darlin’. I’m gonna live.” 
“I know,” you mumbled, shy. You held one of his hands in yours, keeping from looking at him as you trace over his palm. “I was just…”
“Nervous?” he asked quietly.
“Mmhm,” you hummed. He took your hand that held his and pulled you towards him. The rush and warmth of the water relaxed you slightly. He pulled you close to wrap his arms around your waist. You didn’t know what to do with yourself. This is the most personal you’ve ever gotten. This pained you; somehow being closer to him made it hurt worse, being seen as just a hookup. You would’ve been better off without any of this, any of him, but  you weren’t without him. You were right here, undressed in front of him night after night like clockwork, like having a night shift. You almost groaned out loud.
“You gonna be stiff as a board this whole time or…” There he was teasing you again. 
“Sorry.” You were flustered, and exhausted, not because it was one something in the morning, but exhausted mentally. Who knew no strings attached was so much work? Well, it is when one of you is attached, you guessed.
You let out a sigh, tiredly resting your chin on his tanned, warm shoulder. He tightened his arms around you, his chin in the crook of your neck.
“Don’t apologize,” he murmured. His mustache and breath tickled your neck, causing you to shiver, and you began to melt all over again. “I don’t want you to be jumpy around me now. I didn’t scare you off did I?” 
You picked your head up, moving back slightly to look at him. He has the hint of a smile on his face, but his eyes are serious. You let out a breathy laugh, releasing some tension.  “No you didn’t scare me off. Still here.”
He smiled, an especially knee-buckling smile, and he pulled you close again.  “Good,” he murmured. “I’d be lonesome if I did.”
You sighed, and a small, shy smile crept onto your face as you rested and leaned against him. “I think you’d find yourself more company in no time.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he laughed out his words. You just hummed in response. 
“I’ll have you know I’m a gentleman.” 
“Mmhmm.” 
He squeezed your hips playfully. “I cant believe you,” he whispered in your ear, as all space previously between you two went elsewhere. 
The night shift would do.
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ilovetopgunsstuff · 1 month
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live laugh love pining
pining is 100000% the most important aspect of pre-relationship fic for me. good-natured whole-hearted pining filled with lovelorn gazing and chest aching and fluttering touches, that’s my top priority. i was put on this earth to watch characters suffer over the profundity of their love for another person. unrequited love is why god made me. characters finding out that their feelings are reciprocated after long months/years of suffering is why the universe was assembled from nothingness. amen.
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ilovetopgunsstuff · 1 month
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top gun fics coming soon! open to requests!
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