#allusions to rooster smut
Text
Act Accordingly
Dipping my toes into the Rooster pool here. Using the jealousy prompt “I don’t like them all looking at you.” No real smut, but allusions to it. Thanks for all the love on Aw Honey Honey! If you like this one, don’t keep it to yourself :)
Title: Act Accordingly
Rooster just wants you to act accordingly.
WC: 3596
There were few things more relaxing than knowing your classes were done for the week, homework all taken care of, and not a single worry in the world for the next three days.
Your situationship was hosting a barbecue on the beach and he’d asked you to come and help set up a few things behind his friend’s bar, which had direct access to the sand.
Tossing on your favorite bikini and a pair of denim cutoffs, you threw a change of clothes amongst other essentials in a tote and head off toward the bar. You’d been hooking up with Bradley Bradshaw on and off for about eight months – sure, it sounded like a long time, but sometimes he’d disappear for two or three weeks at a time, and you’d get caught up in classes for nursing school as well.
Besides, you didn’t mind, he was an incredible lay and seemingly wasn’t looking for anything serious, so you went along with it – no matter how many times you wished your cut-short mornings could have dragged out a bit longer. You also thought it was kind of cool he flew planes for the Navy and didn’t seem to care when you’d pepper him with questions. He actually seemed pretty happy to answer your questions – but that might have just been the post-orgasm haze.
You’d been to this bar before – Bradley’s Uncle’s girlfriend (?) owned it and you’d met in passing once before. She seemed cool and would sometimes comp your bill, so they were good in your book.
“Hey!” Bradley waved you down from the back deck of the bar. He jogged over and you let your gaze rake down his shirtless body.
“I see you decided to skip sunblock again,” you commented, tilting your sunglasses down to the tip of your nose to take in his rosy skin.
“Not on purpose,” he rubbed the back of his neck, taking your tote from your shoulder and opening it up to grab the spray bottle he knew was in there. “Tits look great,” he commented, eyes darting up to your crocheted bikini top. There was a thin layer of nude fabric beneath the knitting to preserve some decency.
“Likewise,” you grinned, reaching up to tweak one of his nipples. “Now what can I help with?” You asked, looking over at a few empty folding tables next to an equally empty grill.
“Table clothes, plates, napkins, all that shit,” he listed off. “Pen and Mav are bringing food out, but I picked up some fruit and veggie trays, too.”
“Put me to work,” you smiled, sliding your sunglasses back up your nose.
“Wait a minute,” he tugged your wrist as you attempted to broach the table. You found yourself pressed tightly up against Bradley’s front, his hands lodged deep into the back pockets of your denim shorts. “No kiss for Daddy?” He grinned, that dumb, hot mustache stretching across his lips.
“Can’t believe you just called yourself Daddy out here in the open where Penny and Jesus can hear you,” you scolded, a laugh ripping from your throat as he squeezed your ass hard.
“Okay, break it up,” you jumped away from Bradley as his Uncle stepped out onto the deck with two big rolls of vinyl in his arms.
“Good to see ya, Pete,” you greeted, running a hand through your hair. “I see you haven’t trained this one up at all since I last saw you.”
“Unfortunately some things are just inherent,” he shrugged but smiled anyway. “Mind helping me with this table cover while we have wonder boy go grab some propane?” He asked, tossing Bradley a look. The younger of the two men shook his head before disappearing into the back of the bar through the sliding door.
“So, you meeting a bunch of Bradley’s friends?” Pete asked, in a way that you were sure he thought was casual.
“I guess,” you smiled, “see ‘em from time to time here and there,” you added. “It’s all casual, Pete,” you added. The older man look contemplative but smiled nonetheless. All it took was half a roll of duct tape to get the table covers to stay down before you could start piling on plates, cutlery and big metal buckets filled with ice for drinks.
You were rubbing down Bradley’s shoulders with sunblock when the first wave of people started arriving.
“I’m gonna go plant myself,” you said, jabbing your thumb over you shoulder. Penny had set up a few beach umbrellas about halfway down the sand and you could feel your towel calling your name.
Bradley nodded and you could feel his hand skim your waist with a ghostly touch as you turned to walk away. Grabbing a White Claw, you headed down the sand, oblivious to the conversations taking place on the back patio.
“Who is that?” Coyote asked, eyes narrowing in on your figure. He, Rooster and Fanboy all paused in admiration as you peeled your denim shorts down your legs, stretching slightly before laying out across your towel.
“She looks…” Fanboy licked his lips, “smart.”
“That one’s mine,” Rooster said with definition.
“Your girlfriend?” Fanboy asked his brows creeping up.
“Well, no, I mean – we’ve been… seeing each other – like unofficially, we’ve been – ” He stammered out.
“What you haven’t planted your flag?” Coyote grinned wolfishly.
“I’ve planted my flag,” Rooster cut sharply, eyes narrowing.
“Sure doesn’t sound like it, Rooster,” Fanboy laughed. “Which means… fair game.” All three men returned their eyes to the beach, where you were rolling over on your towel, breasts pressed closed together and fighting against the seams of your top.
“Hey fellas, what do you want to eat?” Pete said, once again breaking up the conversation as he held up a big tray of burgers and chicken.
Down on the beach, you were trying your best to wiggle into grooves that didn’t tweak your back after standing for clinicals all week. Settling with your hands folded behind your head, taking the full brunt of the sun’s rays, it was a matter of minutes until a shadow cast over you.
“Couple of us are going to play some volleyball,” Bradley was blocking the sun from shining directly in your face. “Want to join?” He offered.
“Deal me into the second game,” you said, “the sun feels so good,” you sighed. “I want to soak it up a little bit,” you insisted. Bradley nodded, his eyes, covered by his sunglasses, trailing down your form. He knew what your skin tasted like, but imagined it sweeter in the hot weather, causing saliva to pool in his mouth.
“I’ll hold you to that,” he insisted.
“Give me a holler when you’re losing,” you smirked. He didn’t know, after all, that you played DI in college. He balled up his Hawaiian shirt, tossing it over to land on your half-empty beach bag.
The game started up as more and more of Bradley’s friend filtered in, joining him only about forty feet away from your little camp site. As the sun passed peak in the sky, it was getting a little more bearable out. You couldn’t help but notice Bradley’s friends were overwhelmingly male and were, as expected, a little disappointed.
“Couldn’t help yourself?” Bradley asked as you approached. His skin was covered in a layer of sweat and you were sure his sunblock was already long gone.
“Just let me serve, Bradshaw,” you said, plucking the ball from his hands. Traipsing to the back corner of the court, you rocked back on your heel, delivering a devastating serve to the other side of the net. The other team didn’t have a prayer.
“It’s not fair! Rooster’s friend is a ringer!” A chiseled blonde called from the other team.
“It’s good to meet Bradley’s friend,” you looked over to see a hand extended to you. “Fanboy,” he introduced.
“Right,” you nodded, introducing yourself, “I forget about the code names,” you smiled, shaking his hand.
“Call signs,” another man with a lantern jaw and dark eyes interjected. “Coyote,” he added.
“Okay, okay, are we playing a game here?” Bradley asked, trying his best to keep a petulant scowl off of his face.
“Hey, we want to trade!” The only other woman in the group called out, “we’ll hand over Bob for Misty Mae-Treanor,” she added, making you laugh.
“Deal!” You called, jogging over to duck under the net.
“I’m Nat,” the woman introduced, “Bradley’s told us a lot about you,” she added. You blamed your blush on the sun. “This is Bagman,” she nodded to the blonde.
“Jake,” he cut in, “and Bradley’s told me nothing about you,” he grinned. You recognized this man from a few of Bradley’s post-work stories.
“Hangman, right?” You asked with a tilt of your head. His grin only widened.
Bradley was no better than any other man and it took every ounce of willpower within him to focus on the game as you countered him on the other side of the net. He wondered how strong that bikini top was, where your tan lines stopped and if you still had that little bruise just on the edge of your nipple where he’d bit you just a little too hard last week. It was okay - he made it up to you.
And God, you were really good at volleyball.
“Just take the L, Rooster!” Natasha, who you’d come to learn was called Phoenix, called out.
“Who’s hungry?” Pete called from up the beach. “Burgers are done!”
“Starving,” you said, jogging over to your towel, stepping into your denim shorts, shimmying to get them over the round of your ass.
“She’s single, right?” Phoenix asked.
“Who cares?” Hangman laughed, dutifully trailing after you as you walked alongside Bradley up the sand.
“How did you get invited to this again?” Bradley asked Jake, making your eyes go wide.
“Bradley!” You scolded, bumping shoulders with Jake, “that’s not very nice.”
“Yeah, that’s not very nice, Bradley,” Jake taunted. “Where you been hiding this one, huh? Afraid she’ll show you up at everything else you do?” He asked.
“Oh, yes, I remember you now,” you grinned. “Dagger Spare, right?” Jake slapped a hand over his chest, causing Bradley to shout out a honking laugh. Bradley was impressed by your memory, he wasn’t sure how much you were really retaining as most of your conversations took place on the periphery of sleep.
You’d all settled around a few tables, burgers, fries and all sorts of other snacks abound. You squeezed between Bradley and Natasha, who was more than happy to let you dip your carrot sticks into her too-big pool of veggie dip. You liked Natasha, she could hold her own amongst the group of knuckleheads and had already complimented your manicure.
You were listening to Fanboy and Coyote going back and forth on some sort of training story when you dropped a cold, white glob of ranch on your chest.
“Whoops,” you murmured, swiping your finger down across the swell of your breast before popping it in your mouth – not noticing that the conversation had come to a complete standstill. You also hadn’t noticed that your nipples had hardened in your top, rendering Coyote completely useless.
“SO,” Phoenix said loudly. “I’m grabbing more drinks from inside, who wants to help?” She asked.
“I’ll help,” you volunteered, pushing your seat back, but with how tightly the chairs were crammed together, there was no easy way to get out. Grabbing the armrest of Bradley’s chair, you hopped over his seat, planting your bare feet on the wood deck. “Taking your shoes,” you tossed over your shoulder, sliding your feet into one of the many pair of brown leather sandals lined up by the sliding door.
Unbeknownst to you, you’d grabbed Coyote’s sandals, but there was no way you could’ve known.
“Big feet!” You called, following Natasha inside. All eyes cut to Rooster when you and Phoenix had disappeared.
“Stop looking!” He said, frustrated.
“What am I supposed to pluck my eyes out?” Coyote asked, gesturing wildly, “they looked at me first!” Hangman shook his head with silent laughter. Bradley really wanted to laugh, too, and he probably would have if it was anyone else that brought their girl around – because that’s what he was trying to do – make you his girl. And he certainly didn’t like all the attention you were drawing from everyone else.
“I mean it, stop flirting with my girl,” he said pointedly, his attention snapping over to Hangman who simply shrugged with a flick of his toothpick.
“I’ll stop flirting,” Hangman drawled, “when she says she’s your girl.”
Bradley blanched. Sure, he was crazy about you, but you’d agreed on casual – even when his feelings developed into something deeper.
He loved ending up at your place after weeks away – laying around your living room, sharing boxes of takeout as he helped you study for the NCLEX. He’d been your patient, sitting for cast wrappings and vital tests, and he knew the exact location of your birthmark, right inside of your thigh. He liked to think of it as the doorbell to get to exactly where he’d like to go.
“Fine,” he rolled his shoulders, taking a bite of his dinner. He only settled when you and Phoenix returned with fresh drinks – holding your hand for balance as you maneuvered your way back into your seat.
“So,” Fanboy grinned, “how long have you two known each other?” He asked.
“Like biblically?” You replied, making Natasha cough on her drink. Rooster’s blush burned bright on his scarred cheek. “Hmm, I think eight months?” You asked, folding your sunglasses into the pocket of his shirt.
“Sounds right,” Bradley nodded.
“And how long have you –”
“Fanboy, you ever get those mystery stains out of the common room futon?” Natasha interjected. Fanboy paled and took a sip of his drink.
“So who here can tell me the coolest flight story?” You asked, “I’ve heard all of Bradley’s a hundred times and I want to hear something new.” You gave your friend a little grin.
“Look no further,” Jake replied, launching into a list of his own accomplishments.
The next time you excused yourself to head inside and use the restroom, you were cornered by Bradley in the back hall.
“Hi,” you said with surprise, having just tied your hair up into a loose bun atop your head. To Bradley, your neck never looked more kissable.
“Put this on,” he said, holding open his button-up shirt.
“Why?” You asked, sliding your arms through the short sleeves anyway.
“Because I’m not trying to pop a chubby in front of my friends,” he said as if it was obvious. “Where’d you find this swimsuit anyway?” You laughed, but clocked the look in his eyes nonetheless.
“Why are you so bothered?” You asked, leaning back against the wall, shirt unbuttoned.
“I don’t like them all looking at you,” he said, pressing you up against the wall hips-first.
“You don’t like them looking at me?” You asked with a small smile, “then maybe you shouldn’t have invited me to your party,” you added.
“Let me be clear,” he pushed his body into yours with more intent. “I don’t like them looking at you like you’re up for grabs,” there was a darker tone to his words and he chose them very carefully.
“And who do I belong to, Bradley?” You asked, looking up at him through those thick lashes with a glint that made sweat bead at the base of his spine. It was usually a look he only saw before you swallowed his cock whole.
“You’re mine,” he tucked a piece of hair back behind your ear, “and it’s about time we both start acting accordingly.”
“What happened to casual?” You asked, reaching up to tuck your thumb into the cleft of his chin, focusing his attention solely on you.
“I haven’t wanted casual with you since the day I memorized thirty gastrointestinal disease flashcards with you,” he said honestly.
“That’s what did it for you, huh?” You grinned, “all that talk of stomach ulcers got you hard for me?”
“Actually I think it was after you passed your test the next day and I bent you over the patio railing,” he recalled, “Yeah, I think that’s what did it for me.”
“Should’ve said something you big lug,” you chastised.
“I should have,” he nodded, hands on your waist, thumbs swiping across you ribcage. “I knew for a while but it took my friends eyeing up these titties like they were the cure before it drove me a little nuts.” He mumbled, making you giggle.
“Maybe they are the cure,” you shrugged, “you think I wore this by accident?”
“The cure is between your thighs, and I need to be saved,” he said, ducking down to kiss you firmly. “Can we please get the fuck out of here?”
“Ditch your own party?” You asked, smiling nonetheless. “Kinda tacky.”
“Says the girl in the Hawaiian shirt,” he countered.
“Touché,” you nodded. “Tell them we’re out and I’ll meet you at the car?” You offered.
“Actually,” Bradley sucked in a breath, “I need you to tell them we’re out,” he recalled Hangman’s comment. You rocked forward, pressing your lips to his once more.
“Okay fine, but when we get back to my place - I get to be pillow princess,” you said pointedly.
“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” he grinned, and you couldn’t resist that stupid mustache, kissing him again. You pulled Bradley by the hand across the bar to the back door again, where Pete and Penny had decided to join the group as the sun went down.
“Sorry to say, it’s time for us to leave,” you announced, sliding your feet back into your own shoes. “But Bradley just recently found his ball sack and we’re together now – so we’ve got business to attend to.” Bradley narrowly escaped the shower of crudité that came flying his way and he parade-waved his way off the patio. “Penny, please bill Bradley for a cleanup!” you called, just before he could sweep an arm under your knees, lifting you from the ground. “He’s actually quite a good cleaner!”
You laughed as he deposited you right into the passenger seat of the Bronco.
“How was that?” You asked, “definitive enough for your friends?”
“Pretty good,” he nodded, bracing his arms against the top of the car, leaning into your personal space. “Better than what I had planned.”
“And what were your big declarations going to be?” You asked.
“Sorry to eat and run – but I gotta run and eat,” he growled, pressing his lips against yours in a hot kiss.
Your scream of laughter carried across the breeze to the back patio, where Pete had just clinked his beer bottle against Fanboy’s.
Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed Aw Honey Honey, you might also like Mighty Fine! This work is 18+
#rooster#bradley bradshaw#rooster bradshaw#bradley rooster bradshaw#top gun#rooster fluff#allusions to rooster smut#rooster x you#bradley rooster bradshaw x you#rooster x reader#jealous rooster#top gun maverick#top gun fick#jealousy prompt
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Party of Three, Checking In | Rooster x Reader
Summary: According to Bradley, your pregnancy was one of the most exciting things that had ever happened. He could see and sense the small changes in your body, and he was already getting into dad mode. And now, after weeks of waiting, he could finally talk about it whenever he wanted to.
Warnings: Fluff, swearing, allusions to smut, pregnancy topics
Length: 3300 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.
Bradley had you half undressed on your bed with his hands on your hips and his lips on yours. You had no doubt that he was excited. You could feel him. His mustache prickled your nose, and you moaned, trying to get more friction against your body. You needed more of him everywhere, but he slowly started to pull away. He was distracted. His eyes were drifting to the nightstand, and you knew what he was looking for.
"Holy shit," he gasped, reaching to grab the pile of ultrasound images. He managed to persuade your doctor to print twenty of them for him at your appointment two hours ago. And he just couldn't seem to put them down even as you wrapped your legs around him and laughed.
"Roo, you're being a tease."
He groaned and looked at the pictures and then at your face. "I'm not trying to, Baby Girl. I'm just so fucking excited." His cheeks were flushed, and his pupils were blown wide as he added, "I can't get over how much the chicken nugget grew."
You bit your lip and ran your fingers through his already messy hair. The baby was starting to resemble an actual baby and not just a nugget. The heartbeat was strong, and everything was going great. You didn't even feel as sick as you did a few weeks ago. But Bradley was leaving very soon for another deployment, and you didn't want to rush him through his feelings.
When you leaned up and pressed your lips to the paper airplane tattoo on his right bicep, his attention returned to you. "You'll be the best Daddy in the world," you promised.
"Sweetheart," he moaned, finally giving you some of that friction you needed with his big, warm body. "Call me Daddy again."
You ran your tongue over his tattoo before you whispered, "Daddy."
He tossed the ultrasound photos aside, and then his lips met your belly. "I love you. I love you both so much. I'm so excited."
------------------------
On Saturday morning, it was hard to be upset about his upcoming deployment when Bradley took one good look at you. Your eyes were bright, and your smile was wide as you carried the iPad and a few of the ultrasound photos over to where he was sitting on the couch waiting.
"You ready for this?" he asked, kissing along your neck as you turned the tablet on. "God, you smell good."
"Probably because I spilled coffee on my shirt," you murmured.
Bradley grinned as you started up the facetime call to your parents. You were wearing his old shirt, and he ran his nose along your ear and whispered, "You always smell nice."
You made a soft sound as the iPad rang. "You're just extra horny for me right now because of the Nugget."
"Perhaps," he replied, fully knowing he was usually like this. "But you're over the top for me right now, so it's only fair."
"Hi!"
Bradley jumped a few inches away from you as your mom answered the call. "Hey, mom," you said with a smile as you tried to pull Bradley's hand out from under the shirt you were wearing. When he looked at himself on the tablet screen, he realized his cheeks were flushed, so he scooted a couple more inches away from you and tried to keep his hands to himself.
"Wait, hang on and I'll get Dad." Your mom vanished from view, but Bradley could hear her calling your father's name loudly throughout their house.
"They are going to lose their minds," you whispered excitedly as you laced your fingers with his. The two of you had been waiting until after your twelve week appointment to start telling family and friends about your pregnancy. On top of your nausea finally starting to calm down, you looked absolutely stunning. Bradley could finally admit that yes, your ass was looking a little bigger these days, but definitely in a good way. You kept telling him you were bloated, but he thought you looked like a fucking goddess. There was just something extra delightful about your tits now, too....
"Hi," your dad huffed, clearly out of breath as he and your mom both appeared on the call. "Sorry, I was outside getting ready to cut the grass."
You turned to look at Bradley, and he nodded at you with a little grin. "We won't keep you too long. We just wanted to tell you something."
"Is everything okay?" your mom asked, brow furrowed as she leaned a little closer to the screen. "Bradley, did something happen with your deployment? Is it longer now?"
"No," he replied immediately, because she sounded so worried. "We're calling about something exciting. Well, we're excited about it, and we think you will be, too."
Your parents still looked confused as you leaned in to kiss his cheek. Then you held up one of the new photos of the nugget and said, "I'm pregnant. You're going to be grandparents."
Your dad gasped, and your mom was immediately shoving her reading glasses onto her face to get a better look. "Grandparents?" your dad asked with a smile, but your mom shrieked.
"Grandparents," Bradley confirmed a little louder over the delighted screaming.
"Oh my god!" your mom wailed, shaking her husband. "We have to move to California. Take the early retirement package. We have to move! We're going to be grandparents!" Then she looked back at the iPad as you started to laugh. "I'll call our realtor on Monday, and I'll start looking at listings in San Diego again. When are you due? I wonder if we can move by the spring!"
"Late March," you told her as you held the ultrasound images a little closer to the camera for your dad to look at while your mom started to pace.
"Kind of looks like a cute chicken nugget," your dad said with a soft smile.
"Right?!" Bradley said excitedly. "That's what I've been saying!"
Your dad reached for your mom and finally got her to stop walking around the kitchen in a daze. "Your mom and I have been talking about moving anyway, and being in a warmer climate near the two of you.... I mean the three of you... would probably be ideal."
Bradley noticed a few happy tears in your eyes as well as your mom's. "That would be great, dad," you whispered.
A few minutes later, you and your mom were all giggles as you ended the call, and Bradley couldn't stop smiling either. After you tossed the iPad and the photos onto the coffee table, you crawled onto his lap and cupped his face in both of your hands. "I can't wait to tell everyone at the Hard Deck tonight," you whispered, letting your forehead rest against his.
"Nat is going to lose her fucking mind," he muttered, his lips brushing yours. "She spent years picking on me for being unwilling to settle down, and now we're having a kid."
Truthfully, he never minded. Nat kind of became his family after his mom died; she was the first person he really opened up to. She was there to witness the aftermath of his one night stands and his adamant insistence that bachelorhood was what he wanted. He just never knew he could have a partner until he met you.
You raked your fingers through his hair, soothing him in that way that only you could as you kissed the scars on his cheek. Then you whispered, "I'm glad we told your parents first."
Somehow you always knew what to say and when to say it. Bradley tightened his hold on you until your chest was pressed to his. "You made that happen," he muttered. "Because you're perfect."
Your cheek came to rest on his shoulder, and Bradley could hear tears in your eyes as you said, "I wish I could have met them."
"Don't cry, Baby Girl. My parents are smiling somewhere at the thought of the nugget. I just know it."
It took Bradley a minute to realize that your soft breathing and limp arms around him meant that you were asleep, and he had to try not to shake you with his silent laughter. He knew you were exhausted so he sat quietly with your body cradled against his, looking forward to the day when he could hold you in one arm and the baby in the other.
----------------------------
Everyone seemed to think the whole purpose of the night out at the Hard Deck was to wish Bradley and Reuben good luck on their upcoming special deployment, and that was fine with you. That was part of the reason you tried to get everyone to come out on Saturday evening for a drink, but it wasn't the only reason.
"You ready to go?" Bradley asked as he walked into the bedroom where you were still getting dressed. You took one look at him in his snuggest fitting pair of jeans and the tropical print shirt that matched the one you were wearing. You squeaked softly.
"Almost." But now you were thinking about just staying home, unzipping his jeans and getting in bed. "You look hot."
He smirked and picked up the ultrasound photos as you struggled to button your own jeans which were starting to feel a little tight now just like your uniform pants. "And you look like I'm gonna fuck you hard into the bed later tonight."
"Let's stay home," you said quickly, but he was already shaking his head.
"I want everyone to know about the nugget before I deploy. You'll just have to whine and bug for me to bring you home from the bar earlier rather than later."
You rolled your eyes but led the way out to the kitchen where you pulled a bottle of Gatorade from the refrigerator. It was icy cold, and you knew it was going to taste delicious, but you didn't want to open it until you got there. Bradley led you outside to his Bronco and buckled you in after he handed you the pictures of the baby. It wasn't a long drive to the Hard Deck, and the two of you started taking bets about who was going to cry.
"Mav will shed some tears," Bradley rasped as he drove.
"No, he won't!" you insisted. "But Maria will. And so will Bob and Penny."
"There's no way Bob will cry."
"He will!"
"Nah. But I think you're underestimating how sappy Maverick can get."
You shook your head as he pulled into the parking lot. "What if everyone cries?Oh my god, what if nobody cries?" you asked as you walked along, holding his hand.
"Nat is a given," Bradley said, leaning down to kiss your cheek as he pulled the door open for you to walk into the noisy bar. "Just wait."
With your fingers laced together, you and Bradley headed right for the bar where Penny was taking a handful of orders. When she caught sight of the two of you, she held up two fingers. "This is where the fun begins," you whispered as Bradley held up just one finger in response. Penny looked a little confused, but she got just one bottle of your favorite beer ready instead of two. When she set it down, you asked, "Penny, could I get a straw for my Gatorade?"
"Sure," she told you with narrowed eyes, reaching for a straw without taking her eyes off you as you opened your drink. "Here you go."
"Thanks!" you replied cheerfully. When you walked away with Bradley's big hand resting just above your butt, you felt her eyes following the two of you. "I think she's suspicious."
"Excellent," Bradley murmured before taking a sip of his beer. The first person to greet both of you near the pool table was Reuben who would be leaving with Bradley on this dreaded deployment.
"What's up man?" he asked your husband before leaning down and pulling you in for a hug. "Hey, can you bake some of those cookies I like and send them away with Rooster?"
You laughed and pecked him on the cheek. "Yes. As long as you look after him for me."
"I always do," he told you with a wink. He looked at your drink and asked, "You want something from the bar?"
"Nope," you told him, hoisting your plastic bottle a little higher as Bradley's hand slid lower to your butt. "I'm all set."
"O-kay," he said, looking as puzzled as Penny. Everyone was used to seeing you and Bradley with matching beers in your hands, including Cam and Maria who both materialized next to you.
"Which aviators are single again?" Cam asked, glancing around so suspiciously you snorted.
Maria smirked and said, "Not Bradley. Not Jake. Not Bob."
You gasped as you looked at Bob leaning on the edge of the pool table lining up a shot next to Maverick. "You made it official? You're not just fucking and cuddling with him all night?"
"It's official," she said, smiling at him when he looked up at her. Then she turned back to you. "Want me to get you a beer or a tequila shot or something?"
"No, I'm good," you told her, tapping her drink with your Gatorade.
"Mmmk," she said, giving you a bit of side eye as she walked away. Now Bradley was talking to Jake and Cat about his deployment. They were the only two here who already knew you were pregnant and that tonight was supposed to be the unveiling.
"Nobody guessed yet?" Cat whispered to you. "I've never seen you drink anything except a beer when you're out for the night."
You shook your head and laughed. "Give it another minute."
When Bradley's hand slid down to cup your butt through your jeans, you had to press your lips together to keep from giggling. He kept telling you that the way you were filling out your pants was working for him, and you'd taken to wearing yoga pants around the house with more frequency as a result.
"Here she comes," Bradley rasped next to your ear, sending a ripple of anticipation down your spine as his best friend came barrelling your way. He gave you a little pat and pushed you toward Phoenix.
"Hey, Nat," you greeted with a smile.
"What is this shit?" she asked, wrinkling her nose at your Gatorade. "I'll get you a real drink." Then she glanced at Bradley where he was hovering next to you with a grin. "The two of you look like idiots in your matching shirts, and I am not saying that with love."
He burst out laughing. "Thanks, Nat."
"Let's get that drink," she said, but then her eyes shifted between Bradley's face and yours as you brought the straw up to your lips and took a long sip. Bradley's hand migrated from your butt, wrapping around your waist and pulling you slightly in front of him as his palm came to rest on your belly over your tropical button down.
"I'm actually all good with this one." Now, when you raised your bottle, Nat's gaze dropped down to Bradley's hand, and she gasped so loudly, she sloshed some of her drink onto her hand.
"You're not. Are you?" she asked, eyes wide. "Are you? Bradley!"
When you looked up at your husband, he leaned down and kissed you as he chuckled. He was looking at you with the most loving expression, his gaze never wavering as he said, "Go on ahead and say it, Nat."
"Are you pregnant?" she practically screeched, and when you looked at her and nodded, she burst into tears.
"You were right," you told Bradley as his best friend slammed into him, the liquid from her glass sloshing all over Mickey. "She's definitely crying."
"Crying about what?" Bob asked in alarm. "What's wrong?"
"Rooster's gonna be a dad!" Nat wailed, squeezing him around the waist before switching and hugging you tight. "He knocked up his wife, and that's why she's drinking Gatorade!"
Next thing you knew, Bradley was unbuttoning his shirt with a bright smile, revealing the tee underneath that read Dad in the Streets, Daddy in the Sheets.
"Roo!" you gasped when you read it, but it was too late for you to be annoyed by it. Your friends were closing in on the two of you, and you reached out for Bradley's hand.
"Congratulations!"
"I was wondering why you were drinking a Gatorade!"
"Are you serious right now?!"
"This is so exciting!"
Bradley only released your hand to give Maverick a hug, and you were surprised to find that he was definitely crying. But now you were crying, too. Because everyone you cared about knew now. Bradley's parents and your parents and the community of friends that you loved so much. They all knew.
"A round of Gatorades on me!" Cam called out before picking you up off the floor in a bear hug. "Oh shit, I don't want to hurt the baby," he said before practically dropping you back on the floor.
But then Jake caught you in his arms while someone handed Bradley a bottle of champagne. "I'm happy for you, Angel. I know how much you both wanted this. That man worships the ground you walk on. It's actually pretty distressing to think about, but he'll be the same way with the kiddo."
You couldn't even keep track of how many people had given you a hug. Penny brought you some sparkling grape juice, and Reuben offered to run to get food if you were hungry. You kept swiping at the tears in your eyes, but Bradley had no shame at all.
"I love you, Baby Girl!" he called from a few feet away where he was handing out the ultrasound pictures like they were celebratory cigars and sipping on the champagne bottle. "Look how adorable this nugget is," he was telling Nat and Maverick. "I'm gonna have the cutest baby ever. I mean look how fucking perfect my wife is."
You found his obnoxious shirt more endearing now than annoying, and when you tucked yourself against his side, his lips tasted like champagne. And he smelled delicious. And he looked incredible. "Oh no," you moaned softly as he put the remaining few photos in his jeans pocket. "Roo."
He looked down at you and smiled before chugging what was left in the bottle. You watched the scars pull taut on his neck as he swallowed, and your hand came to rest on his abs. After he swiped his mouth with the back of his hand, he asked, "You about ready for me to take you home and fuck you hard into the bed?"
You didn't even care who heard him as you dug the Bronco key out of his pocket. "I'll drive, Daddy. You save your energy."
After that, you and he made a pretty hasty exit which was a surprise to exactly nobody. As much as you were dreading sending him on a deployment while you were pregnant, you know that you'd have so many people around you who would be happy to help you if needed.
Once you started to buckle Bradley into the passenger seat, he placed a few sloppy kisses on your cheek. When he pulled you onto his lap, you whispered, "I'm going to have the sweetest baby in the world. I mean look how fucking perfect my husband is."
He cupped your cheek with a dreamy look in his eyes. "Let's go home."
-----------------------
Bradley was bursting at the seams with excitement! Dad mode has been activated. Baby Girl seems to be over the morning sickness hump. And pretty soon we'll send Bradley away. I'll post a few more one-shots, and then we dive into a new series! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
@hotch-meeeeeuppppp
@chassy21
@solacestyles
@daisyhollyxox
@wintercap89
@blog-name6996
@bcon24
@chaoticassidy
@avada-kedavra-bitch-187
@katiebby04
@marantha
@averyhotchner
@abaker74
@heli991113
@k-k0129
@noz4a2
@shanimallina87
@little-wiseone
@ccbb2222
@xoxabs88xox
@thedroneranger
@cherrycola27
@fanboyswhore9
@xomrsalliej4787xo
@desert-fern
@sylviebell
@wkndwlff
@horseslovers2016
@gennyanydots
@mattyskies
@hookslove1592
@blahehblah
@sadpetalsstuff
@local-spidey
@schoollover
@lex-winchester
@magicalmorg
@nicole01-23
@jessicab1991
@happyrebelruins
@samsgoddess
@ughthisisntright
@bellaireland1981
@sagittarius-flowerchild
@mygyn
@yuckosworld
#bradley bradshaw x reader#rooster x you#rooster x reader#rooster imagine#rooster fanfiction#bradley rooster bradshaw imagine#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw imagine#bradley bradshaw x female reader#bradley bradshaw x you#bradley bradshaw fic#bradley bradshaw fanfiction#top gun imagine#top gun maverick imagine#top gun fanfiction#top gun maverick fanfiction#roosterforme#party of three checking in
808 notes
·
View notes
Text
Slow Down, You're Gonna Crash
Chapter One
Summary: Being a Verstappen means realising that you'll never be as good as her brother. She knew it. That was why she ran away to California. Of course, she's gonna fall for the older, naval aviator. And, of course, it pisses her family off.
Bradley Bradshaw x F1!Driver Reader
Warnings: Allusions to smut
1.5K
Series Masterlist
In her defence, she didn't realise that The Hard Deck was a navy bar. She just wanted a drink, a moment of peace before she got back onto the road.
It was empty as she sipped her very first drink, savouring it. The longer she sat there, the longer she had to spend I'm San Diego, away from her family. But that was entirely intentional.
By the time she finished her first gin and tonic (something she had gotten a taste for because of her brother). The bar began filling up. She stood up from her seat, fished her keys from her pocket, and moved to leave. But she found herself back in her seat, found herself intrigued.
These navy men weren't like the men she hung around with. They were bigger, much more muscular. She watched from the corner of her eye as a few of them played pool.
"Would you like another?" The bartender asked kindly.
She immediately went to stand. "I can come and get it," she said, but the bartender shook her head, promising to bring another gin and tonic to her. Another gin and tonic and she wouldn't be able to drive.
As she sipped her second gin and tonic, a man walked in. The only similarity he had to the navy men was that he had aviators low on his nose. It didn't matter that it was dark outside, he sill wore them. A hawaiian shirt was on his body, open to reveal the white beneath. She'd seen her share of moustaches on friends, fellow drivers, her heroes growing up, but none of them looked as good with one as he did.
Colour her intruiged. She sat back as she watched him, sipping her drink as he wandered over to the bar and ordered himself a beer. As soon as the beer was in his hands he was walking over to the group playing pool behind her.
She lost sight of him then, but thought nothing of it as she drank. Two drinks and that would be her lot.
The man in the hawaiian shirt walked past her. He sat at the piano and pressed a few of the keys. His aviator friends surrounded him, singing along with joy as she played.
She couldn't look away from any of them. It was quite a sight. She had seen similar celebrations in her own line of work, like when her brother won his first championship.
He finished playing and everybody returned to what they were doing. His aviator friends walked past her in her both as they headed back to their drinks and to play pool. He went to do the same. She watched his watched the way he held his beer in his large hands, the way his hawaiian shirt moved around him.
But, suddenly, he was sliding into the seat opposite her. She couldn't hide her surprise as he sipped his beer and said "Hi."
That was it. Just 'hi'. She'd been chatted up so often in her line of work, she thought she was immune to it. But one little word from the gorgeous man across from her and she was ready to melt.
But she held her composure. The way his dark eyes stared into her own, the way a small smile played beneath his moustache, wasn't making it easy. "Hey," she responded almost nonchalantly as she picked up her drink. She'd been trained by her media team for stuff like this. But, one look at the man in front of her, and she wanted to forget it all.
"I haven't seen you around here," he continued.
She didn't think he knew who she was, but this confirmed it. It sent sparks through her. This was freedom.
"I'm just stopping by," she replied, a smile playing on her lips.
He held his large hand towards her. "I'm Rooster," he said.
She took his hand and shook it. "Well, Rooster. Do you always sit with random girls in bars?" She asked.
For a moment, a very brief moment, panic shot through him. But as soon as he saw the smile playing on her lips, he immediately relaxed. "Only the pretty ones," he replied.
She saw an opportunity. "Well, if I'm so pretty, then you wouldn't mind telling me your real name. Because I'm betting its not Rooster."
He shook his head. "You're right, it's not actually Rooster," he answered. "I'm Bradley. Bradley Bradshaw."
In return, she gave him her first name and her first name only.
"Have you got a last name?" Bradley found himself asking.
The name suited him. Bradley. She hadn't said it outloud yet, but couldn't wait to feel it on her tongue. Even if it was for only one night.
She didn't tell him her last name, instead pulling out her I.D card to get him to read it. He took it, the I.D card looking tiny between his fingers. "Ver... Vershtap..." He tried to say it again, trailing off in a mumble.
"Close," she laughed. "Verstappen."
Bradley continued to blankly stare at her. So she decided to teach him. "Repeat after me. Ver."
"Ver," Bradley repeated. She couldn't help but laugh, it wasn't like it was difficult to pronounce.
"Stap."
"Stap. Verstap," he said nodding.
"Pen. Verstappen."
"Verstappen," he said slowly. But then he said it quicker, surprising himself with just how easy it was. "It's pretty, where is it from?" He asked and took a swig of his beer.
"It's Dutch," she answering, curling her fingers around her glass. "On my dad's side."
Bradley said her name in full. The way it rolled off of his tongue, she could have listened to it forever.
He looked at her I.D again. His face dropped. "You're twenty four?" He asked in surprise.
She nodded her head and sipped her gin.
"I'm thirty six," he replied.
Bradley went to stand up, to take his beer with him, but she shook her head. "It's not a problem with me," she said and he stilled. "You're younger than my brothers girlfriend and that is my threshold."
So, Bradley sat back dow. As they drank, they spoke. Bradley got her another drink when hers ran dry.
"What are you doing here in San Diego?" He asked as he slipped into the seat beside her.
She tapped her nose. "That's for me to know," she said and giggled. But she really wasn't going to tell him. She'd learnt by now that, once somebody knew who she was, they started treating her differently.
She didn't want that with Bradley.
She didn't know when they started kissing. But her hands were in his hair and she could feel his moustache against her lip. Bradley had his hands on her ass, squeezing lightly as he pulled her onto his lap. "You wanna head back to mine, find out why they call me Rooster?" He whispered against her lips.
She pulled away and nodded her head. At that, Bradley squeezed her hip. "I'm gonna need your words, pretty girl," he said and she kissed him again.
"Yes, Bradley," she said, her forehead against his. "I want you to take me back to your place and show me exactly why they call you Rooster."
Bradley grinned. He took her hand and led her out of the hard deck. As he took her past the other daggers, Nat sent a wink his way.
"Which one if yours?" She asked. She wasn't going to point out her car to him, the McLaren she was currently borrowing from the man that had taken her job. But more on that later.
Still holding her hand in his, Bradley took her over to the Ford Bronco.
She let out a whistle. "This is sweet," she muttered as she looked around it.
Bradley beamed. His Bronco was his pride and joy. "You know about cars?" He asked and she nodded her head.
"You could say I'm a car mechanic," she said and giggled.
Bradley opened the car door for her and helped her into the Bronco.
She fiddled with the radio for most of the ride back to his place. Normally Bradley was precious about his radio. He had it set to a station he liked, and nobody was allowed to change it. But he didn't mind when she did it. When she found a station she liked, she settled back in the passenger seat of his Bronco and hummed along.
Bradley was a gentleman. As soon as he pulled the Bronco into the driveway of his house, he opened the door for her and took her hand as she jumped out. He pushed the door shut and immediately pressed his lips against her own, hands cradling her head as he gently pushed her against the Bronco. She couldn't stop the gasp that escaped her lips. "Fuck," she whispered against his soft lips. She'd never kissed someone with a moustache before, it was a different sensation, brushing against her lip as she fought for control.
She pulled back, chest heaving as she stared at him. "So, you gonna take me inside or what?"
Taglist: @biancathecool @not-nyasa @nurse-sainz
#bradley bradshaw#bradley bradshaw imagine#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw fluff#bradley bradshaw x you#rooster#rooster imagine#rooster x reader#rooster fluff#rooster x you#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw#top gun#top gun maverick#rooster top gun#top gun imagine#top gun fanfiction
545 notes
·
View notes
Text
Worth The Risk
Pairing - Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Mitchell!reader
Word count - 14.5k
Warnings - swearing, angst, fluff, Mav is a wee bit overprotective, mentions of Goose and Carole, allusion to smut at the end
Summary - in visiting your dad in Miramar you rekindle your friendship with Bradley Bradshaw, which yields unexpected results
A/N - sooo... it's a bit of a big one here lads. I wish I could tell y'all how I achieved such a feat but believe me I have no clue how I did this. this was a request sent in by @talesofreading so I hope I did the idea justice (and I'm so so so sorry it took me so long to write it in the first place). I won't ramble so as per y'all please send in requests, feedback, and enjoy!!!
“Yes dad, I’m at the gate now and we’re due to board in ten minutes or so.” You say with a breathy laugh after your dad finishes asking you what feels like a hundred questions about your flight. You were visiting your dad, Pete Mitchell, in San Diego while you had some time off work. After completing your studies at college, you had landed a good gig working as a nurse in a hospital in Chicago. You had grown up sure you weren’t going to follow in your father’s footsteps and so found yourself studying medicine and making a career out of it. It was hard when your dad was constantly deployed after pissing off Admiral after Admiral, but he did make the effort to visit you when he could and now that he was settled in San Diego, you decided you’d give him a visit.
“I’ll be at the airport when you land. I’ll see you soon sweetheart.” Maverick says a smile on his face as he thinks about how in a few hours you’ll be here in person.
“I’ll see you soon, dad. I love you.” You say, smiling as you hear your dad bid you one last goodbye before you hang up. After hanging up, you look out the window, seeing the plane you’d soon be boarding. You wait patiently at the gate, passport and boarding pass in hand as you survey the people surrounding you, little groups of people, family or friends, excitedly chatting about their trip and what they’re going to get up to, couples discussing similar topics, and businesspeople, making last minute calls or typing hurriedly on their laptops.
Before long, the call for boarding to begin comes over the loudspeaker and one by one a group is called up to have their passes checked and board the plane. Eventually, you are able to board and find your seat, settling down in it and tucking your bag away while patiently waiting for the journey to begin.
Soon enough, the boarding process is completed, and the plane begins to crawl towards the runway, patiently waiting for its turn to go. Within a couple of minutes, the plane gets onto the runway, and speeds along until it’s able to take off. You watch the ground get smaller and the clouds appear. You knew you inherited a love of flying from your dad, but your love for it never pushed you to make a career out of it. You watched the clouds pass you by while you listened to your music.
After just over four hours, the plane touched down in San Diego and you couldn’t wipe the smile from your face as you saw the beautifully sunny weather. You disembarked the plane and made your way to baggage claim and waited with the rest of the people from the flight until your bag comes around on the conveyor belt. You grab your bag and follow the signs to where you know you’ll be able to find your dad. You enter the spacious area, eyes searching the sea of gathered people, quickly locating your dad’s familiar jacket and you swear your smile couldn’t get any wider. You lock eyes with Maverick, and he waves before making his way over to you.
“Hey, sweetheart. Was the flight okay?” He asks, sweeping you up in a hug, holding you close as you reciprocate the embrace.
“Hey, dad. The flight was fine.” You reply, squeezing him that little bit tighter before releasing him from the hug, taking the handle of your luggage and following your dad to the car park and letting him lead you to his car.
“New car?” You ask, an amused tone to your voice as you take in the sight of the car.
“I wouldn’t say new. Figured the bike would pose a problem so I had to take the car.” Maverick says with a chuckle, unlocking the car and loading your bags into the back of the car before you get into the passenger seat, and he gets into the driver’s seat.
The drive back to Maverick’s house wasn’t long and the scenery was beautiful. You had spent a little bit of time in Miramar when you were younger, but you don’t remember much of it since you only spent a few short months there before moving away again. You were silently glad your dad had found a place to settle down and that you could finally visit him after the countless times he had come to visit you.
“You probably don’t remember much about Miramar, huh?” Maverick muses softly, glancing at you quickly, noticing your enamoured expression before returning his focus to the road.
“I don’t. But it’s so gorgeous.” You say with a grin, taking in the views, your smile widening as you take in the sight of the beach.
“I’ll make sure we go to all the best places.” Maverick says, a smile on his face as he begins to turn up the road he lived on and then soon parks in his driveway. You get out of the car and by the time you get to the back of the car, Maverick has already unloaded your bags and leads you into his house.
The house was small yet perfect for Maverick, he’d decorated it with pictures from his time at Top Gun and pictures of you growing up. He shows you upstairs and to the room you’ll be staying in.
“I’ll let you settle in. I’ll be downstairs if you need me.” Maverick says softly before excusing himself and heading downstairs while you stay put in the middle of the room. After a brief minute, you cross to the window, taking in the view and opening the window slightly so you can hear the breeze and birds singing while you got settled in. You unpacked some of your essentials before deciding you wanted to go and hang out with your dad while you had the time with him. You head downstairs and find Maverick sat on the sofa in the living room, smiling over at you.
“I’m still feeling pretty cramped from the flight. Are you okay if I go for a walk?” You ask, smiling as Maverick nods.
“Of course, do you want me to go with you?” He offers, already bracing his hands on either side of him ready to push himself up off the sofa.
“It’s okay, you can relax.” You say, watching as Maverick stays put, thinking to himself before speaking up.
“Don’t get lost, okay?” He says with a chuckle.
“I’m not as old as you so I can rely on my phone to keep me from getting lost.” You say with a cheeky grin, pulling your phone out of your pocket and waving it to emphasise your point, laughing at your dad’s expression of mock shock.
“You cheeky shit.” He says, breaking into a laugh and rolling his eyes as you pocket your phone.
“You know I love you.” You say with a grin, starting to head towards the front door.
“I love you too. Text me when you’re on your way back and I’ll start on dinner.” Maverick says, waving you off and you grab a spare key before exiting the house and letting your feet dictate where you go.
You find yourself wandering until you reach the beach, and you find yourself smiling as you see the families on the beach, lying on towels or playing in the sand and sea. You wished you could remember the times you had spent on that same beach but all you had was photos and stories your dad had told you. As you walk alongside the beach, take in the gorgeous sights as the golden sun starts to lower in the sky.
Eventually, you find yourself near a bar, it looks like a Navy bar to you just judging by the amount of people in khaki uniforms going in and out of the bar. You stood still for a moment, watching the people going in and out, wondering if your dad or anyone on his new squadron visited that bar. As you watch the bar, you catch sight of someone in a Hawaiian shirt standing on the decking just outside the bar. You didn’t mean to stare at the stranger, but you hadn’t seen anyone since Goose wearing a Hawaiian shirt so clearly this man had good taste and you couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh at the sight.
Before too long, the stranger caught sight of you, and you could’ve sworn your heart stopped when you realised, he was looking in your direction. Truthfully, you had no idea if he was actually looking at you or at something behind you because of his aviators hiding his eyes but the idea of this guy catching you looking at him was enough of a scare to get you to turn tail and begin your journey back to your dad’s house, shooting him a text to let him know you were on your way home.
In about twenty minutes, you enter Maverick’s house and are immediately greeted with the smell of cooking food, and you immediately know he is making you your favourite meal.
“Smells good.” You say with a wide smile, finding the kitchen and standing in the doorway, watching as your dad diligently works on the food.
“I had to make you your favourite.” Maverick replies, glancing over at you with a smile before returning his attention back to the food. You decide to help your dad out a bit and set the table and get drinks out. By the time you’ve set the table with cutlery and drinks, Maverick has finished the food and begins plating up the meals, handing you a plate with a smile. The two of you sit down at the table and eat your meals, chatting throughout and enjoying each other’s company. When you finish your meals, you help clean up, putting the dishes in the dishwasher despite Maverick’s insistence that you don’t have to. As he tells you what felt like the thousandth time to let him do it, the doorbell rang.
“Let me clean up, you answer the door.” You say, pointing towards the front door with a chuckle before turning back to the dishwasher, loading it carefully and wiping down the surfaces while you hear the muffled voices coming through from the hall.
“y/n, look who it is!” You turn and look through the doorway to see your dad entering the living room and behind him is a man sporting a shirt that looks incredibly familiar.
“I thought it was you I saw by the beach!” You couldn’t believe it. You were standing face-to-face with Bradley Bradshaw. Someone you thought you were never going to see again after that night he had screamed in your dad’s face about never wanting to see him again and leaving your house with the door slamming behind him. But here he was, standing in front of you with a huge smile and bright eyes. He’d changed a lot in the time that’s passed, he was definitely more muscular, and he had some new scars decorating his face, but above everything, he looked much more attractive than you remember him being.
“Bradley, I didn’t even recognise you!” You exclaim happily, accepting the offered hug instantly, clinging to Bradley and relishing in how gently he wrapped his arms around you, his chest rumbling with a gentle laugh.
“I almost didn’t recognise you. If I hadn’t of caught you staring, I probably wouldn’t have known you were here at all.” Bradley replies, both of you pulling apart when you hear Maverick’s amused scoff.
“Staring?” Maverick asks with a raised eyebrow.
“I wasn’t staring. I just noticed the Hawaiian shirt and it made me think of Goose.” You explain, rolling your eyes at your dad as both men laugh softly.
“Well, I’m happy to report that my dad’s impeccable fashion sense did in fact get passed down to me.” Bradley says, shrugging with a chuckle.
“So, what brings you by? Or was it just the fact you thought you saw me, so you came here to test your theory.” You ask, folding your arms across your chest as you raise an eyebrow with an amused smile.
“Maybe I was testing a theory, but I wasn’t exactly wrong.” Bradley admits, grinning as Maverick rolls his eyes jokingly.
“You could’ve called or texted if you wanted to know if she was here.” Maverick says, looking up at Bradley.
“I know but I haven’t seen her in a while, so I wanted to swing by.” Bradley says unapologetically.
“I’ll give you that one.” Maverick admits, nodding his head in approval as he turns to head into the kitchen to grab himself a beer.
“Hey, tomorrow would you like to grab a drink with me at the Hard Deck?” Bradley offers, a soft smile on his face as he awaits your response.
“Sure, it would be great to catch up after so long.” You say with a smile, more than happy to spend some time with Bradley now that you know he’s in the area.
“Great! I’ll swing by tomorrow and we’ll head down together. Is six, okay?” Bradley asks, offering a time.
“Six is perfect.” You say, your smile widening by the second, excited at the thought of spending the evening with Bradley.
“I’ll see you then.” Bradley says, giving you another hug before he leaves you and Maverick, closing the door behind him and signalling that he has gone. Once he’s gone you turn to face your dad, shocked to see his raised eyebrow.
“Don’t date an aviator.” Maverick says simply, making your jaw drop in shock.
“Dad, what?” You stammer, feeling your cheeks quickly heating up at the simple statement your dad said.
“You heard me. Don’t date an aviator. It won’t go well.” Maverick repeats himself, making you even more flustered.
“Okay, firstly, me and Bradley are going out for a friendly catch-up, we haven’t seen each other since we were eighteen. Secondly, I’m not a child so I can date whoever I want, aviator or not.” You retort, folding your arms over your chest as you stare down your dad.
“I’m just trying to protect you, sweetheart. I am an aviator, so I know what they’re like. It’s better if you steer clear of dating them. I saw how you were looking at Bradley and it’s best you don’t even try.” Maverick says, sticking to his guns and trying to explain himself.
“I appreciate that, dad. But I am an adult now, let me make mistakes and figure things out for myself.” You argue, raising an eyebrow as you continue to argue your point with your dad. Instead of responding, your dad just smiled softly before walking past you and heading upstairs. As his footsteps grow quieter as he disappears upstairs, you let out a soft sigh. You weren’t even going on a proper date with Bradley. It was just a friendly catch-up between two people who hadn’t seen each other in years. Right?
Six pm the next day couldn’t have come sooner for you. You had spent the day visiting some of your dad’s favourite spots with him. You had lunch together and he even managed to coerce you into taking a quick tour of his hangar. When you had got home you had spent way too long deciding on what you wanted to wear, trying to find something that was cute but didn’t make you look like you were trying to impress Bradley. Eventually, you find an outfit that fits what you’re going for and you put it on, smiling as you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. You knew it wasn’t a date but the mere thought of getting to spend time with Bradley after so long was making you giddy. Just as you finish freshening up, you hear the doorbell ring and just by checking the time you knew it was Bradley and you immediately began to make your way downstairs. As you were heading downstairs you could hear a muffled conversation between Bradley and Maverick, but they stopped talking as soon as Bradley caught sight of you.
“y/n… you look… wow.” Bradley stumbles over his words, not knowing what to say.
“I’m hoping that’s a good wow.” You say with a soft laugh, smiling up at Bradley.
“It’s definitely a good wow, you look beautiful.” Bradley says, a sheepish smile covering his face as he looks at you and you feel your cheeks heating up at his shy compliment. The moment was then disturbed by Maverick clearing his throat.
“So, I’ll see you when you get back. Keep her safe, Bradley.” Maverick says, softly smiling at you before turning to look at Bradley who straightens up ever so slightly at Maverick’s gaze.
“Of course, I will, Mav.” Bradley says as you both move towards the door, bidding your dad one last goodbye before you exit the house, stepping into the warm evening air and beginning the walk to the Hard Deck, making small talk on your way to the bar.
The walk that had been twenty minutes the day before felt like it was five minutes when you were walking with Bradley. You were having so much fun spending time with him again after so long. Eventually, you reach the Hard Deck and Bradley guides you to a table, finding the quietest corner in the bar and pulling the chair out for you to sit down at, making you smile shyly.
“Thank you.” You say softly, sitting down on the chair.
“I’m going to grab us some drinks. Do you want some fries as well or something?” Bradley says, still standing as he looks down at you.
“I’ll take a beer if that’s okay and fries sound nice.” You say with a smile as Bradley nods, turning and making his way to the bar.
“Hey Penny, could I get two beers and put in an order for fries?” Bradley asks, leaning up against the bar and smiling at Penny as she approaches.
“Of course, am I starting a tab?” Penny asks, handing Bradley two beers and taking his card in return, watching as he nods in response.
“Yes please.” Bradley confirms as Penny nods, tucking his card away someplace safe for the duration of his time at the bar.
“And what table am I taking the fries to when they’re done?” Penny asks as she hands the order to one of her employees before turning back to Bradley.
“Just that one over there.” Bradley says, pointing out the table and Penny leans over the bar slightly, following where Bradley was pointing before her eyes widen in shock slightly.
“Is that y/n?” Penny asks, remembering how she’d seen you a few times when you were younger.
“It is. She’s visiting Mav for a bit, and I haven’t seen her in years, so I figured we’d catch up over drinks.” Bradley explains, unable to wipe the smile off his face as he briefly glances over at you seeing you entertaining yourself on your phone before turning his attention back to Penny.
“A catch-up, huh?” Penny asks, an amused smile on her face as Bradley blushes slightly his gaze flicking down to the bar counter before looking back up at Penny as he licks his lips nervously.
“Don’t you start. I’ve already had Mav warn me away from her.” Bradley says with a joking roll of the eyes as he takes the beer bottles and heads back over to the table placing a beer in front of you and then sitting down in the chair opposite you.
“I was beginning to think you’d run away or something.” You say with a laugh, putting your phone away and holding the beer bottle in between your hands loosely.
“Never. I was just catching up with Penny.” Bradley says, lifting his beer bottle and tipping it lightly in Penny’s direction.
“Penny’s here?” You ask, turning in your seat and looking over at where Bradley had been pointing, smiling as you catch sight of Penny working at the bar seeing her catch sight of a patron and smiling as they approach.
“She was pretty excited when she realised you were here, so I’d imagine she’ll come over soon enough.” Bradley says, taking a sip from his beer bottle as you turn back around to face him.
“I don’t doubt it.” You say with a chuckle, taking a sip of your own beer as the two of you fall into a brief silence.
“So, how have you been? What have you been up to in these last few years?” Bradley asks, head tilted slightly in his curiosity.
“Well, the Navy wasn’t really my thing, so I just went to college and ended up pursuing medicine and now I’m a nurse over in Chicago. What about you?” You say, explaining what you’ve been up to since you last saw him.
“You’ve probably figured out I’m an aviator now, but I did go off to college after the whole thing with Mav. But I’m finally where I want to be and now, I’ve got a permanent squad and a place to call home.” Bradley explains, smiling softly to himself as he thinks of how far he’s come.
“That’s incredible. I know Goose and Carole are so proud of you.” You say, reaching over and gently resting a hand on Bradley’s arm, fighting the growing heat under your cheeks at the contact yet completely missing Bradley’s slight blush too.
“Thank you. You’ve done well for yourself getting a job in Chicago. I’m proud of you.” Bradley says, getting the bravery to rest a hand on top of yours, encapsulating your hand with the warmth emitting from his.
“Thank you, Bradley.” You reply softly, unable to contain your smile.
“So… have you got anyone back home? Any partners or anything?” Bradley asks, flushing a bit redder at the boldness of the question and fights to hide his relief when you shake your head with a slight chuckle.
“No. I’ve been single since college. What about you Mr. Aviator? You’ve surely got girls throwing themselves at your feet.” You say, retracting your hand from underneath Bradley’s both of you trying not to show any upset at the lack of contact.
“Throwing themselves at my feet? Well, you’re not entirely wrong with that. But I’m just waiting for the right girl to come along.” Bradley says with a soft shrug, making your heart pound just that little bit faster at the revelation that he is single.
“Here’s your fries.” You look up at the familiar voice and can’t stop your smile from widening when you see Penny placing the small basket of fries on the table and you instantly get out of your seat to give her a hug.
“Penny it’s been so long!” You exclaim happily, grinning as she wraps her arms around you, reciprocating the hug.
“It really has, hasn’t it?” Penny says with a laugh, pulling away to hold you at arm’s length.
“If I had known you were here, I would’ve swung by sooner. Somehow dad neglected to tell me that you worked here. He had mentioned you were in the area though.” You explain as Penny shakes her head with a laugh.
“I know what your father is like so don’t worry. I won’t interrupt your time with Bradley, sweetie. Enjoy your night and if you need anything, let me know.” Penny says, giving you one last hug before making her way back over to the bar to continue serving customers. You and Bradley then dig into the fries, continuing to chat as you eat.
You had no idea how long you were at the bar with Bradley, but it felt like mere seconds when you were with him. You knew you had a slight crush on Bradley way back when you were teenagers, but it had been pushed to the back of your mind in the last few years with how life had been. But just seeing Bradley and spending time with him had brought all those feelings back and they were stronger than ever.
What you didn’t know was that Bradley felt the exact same way. Only he was struggling with the warning Maverick had issued him when he turned up to pick you up. Maverick had warned him away from you, saying he didn’t want you dating an aviator. But for you, Bradley was more than willing to go against Maverick’s warnings and risk angering him.
“I’m going to close up my tab and I’ll take you home, okay?” Bradley says after clearing his throat and you nod, waiting patiently as he crosses to the bar and closes out his tab with Penny before he crosses back over to you. When you noticed Bradley coming over you got up, following him through the bar, bidding Penny goodbye as you passed.
Exiting into the cool night are you were suddenly aware of how long you had spent at the bar with Bradley now that the moon had replaced the sun. However, you didn’t even mind. With the evening now much quieter than the previous environment of the bustling bar, you and Bradley were able to walk and talk quietly, feeling like your conversations were much more private now.
Much earlier than you would’ve liked to, you wound up at the end of the driveway to your dad’s house and you felt your heart sinking at the finality of the end of the night.
“I had a great night tonight.” You say, turning to look up at Bradley with a smile, grateful for the evening you had with him.
“So did I. It was great to catch up.” Bradley replies with a soft smile of his own.
“It was. I just wish it never had to end.” You admit softly, eyes flicking to the ground before looking back at Bradley.
“Me too. But what if we did this again sometime before you go back to Chicago? Maybe like a date?” Bradley says, biting the bullet and deciding to just go for it instead of losing his chance. But when Bradley saw the hesitation on your face, he began to second guess himself. Had he completely misinterpreted how the night had gone?
“I’d really like that, Bradley. But…” You begin, glancing over at the front door before looking back over at Bradley who softens.
“Mav told you not to date aviators.” Bradley says, nodding in understanding.
“I’m not fussed about that rule, he can’t control me. I just don’t want this to ruin your relationship with him. You just made up after everything that happened, and I’m scared I’ll ruin it.” You admit, wanting to do what you can to protect Bradley from your dad’s protectiveness.
“You won’t ruin anything. I’ve never really been one for listening to Mav’s rules anyway. I think it’s worth the risk.” Bradley says quietly, as if your dad was nearby and listening in to your conversation, while he also reached out and interlocked your hands gently smiling so softly at you that you were sure you’d melt into a puddle right there and then.
“I think it’s worth the risk too.” You admit with a smile, blushing slightly as Bradley squeezes your hand softly at your agreement.
��How about in a couple of days’ time, we have our date? I’ll find us a nice spot and I’ll text you the details.” Bradley says, growing quieter near the end of his sentence.
“You don’t have my number.” You say with a giggle, digging in your jacket pocket for your phone, unlocking it and finding your number before holding it out towards Bradley who hurriedly digs in his pocket for his phone, almost dropping it at the speed at which he pulled the phone out before typing your number into his phone and creating a contact for you.
“Done.” Bradley says with a large smile as you turn your phone off and put it back in your pocket while Bradley mirrors your actions.
“I’ll see you around.” You say softly, knowing you should head into the house and let Bradley get home himself.
“I’ll text you. Goodnight, y/n.” Bradley says softly, extending his arms for a hug which you accept almost instantly, silently loving the way Bradley’s arms wrap around you and make you feel safe.
“Goodnight, Bradley.” You whisper before pulling away from the hug and heading up the path to the front door and unlocking the door, glancing over your shoulder and smiling at Bradley for one last time that night as he smiles back and offers you one last wave before you disappear inside. Maverick had clearly left the hall lights on for you so you could navigate the house and you made your way upstairs to your room, making sure you turned off the lights as you went. Once you reach your room, you change into your pyjamas before heading to the bathroom to clean up and get ready for bed. Then you return back to your room and climb into your bed, pulling the covers over you and grab your phone, smiling at the text that displayed as an unknown number, but you knew it was Bradley.
‘Thank you again for a great night. I’ve not had this much fun in a long time.’
‘It’s Bradley by the way.’
You couldn’t help but giggle at the second text, imagining the brief panic on Bradley’s face after he hit send on the first message without clarifying it was him.
‘Me neither, it was nice to catch up :).’
‘Let me know when you’re home safe.’
You found yourself double texting Bradley in return, wanting to make sure you know when Bradley gets home safe. While you waited for Bradley to text you back, you texted one of your closest friends from Chicago and told her about how your evening had gone and as you expected, she was very eager to hear everything and demanded to know what Bradley was like and whether you liked him. While you were explaining how the evening went, a text from Bradley came through.
‘I’m happy to say I made it home.’
You couldn’t stop your thumbs from typing a speedy response to Bradley’s text.
‘I’m glad you made it home safe. Although I’m sure being a big strong Navy man means you’re safer than most when walking home.’
You knew calling Bradley a ‘big strong Navy man’ was probably a bit of a step too far but your thumbs were typing quicker than your brain could comprehend and you only realised what you had typed when you had hit send on the message. Just as you were beginning to type an apology, a text came through from Bradley.
‘Oh, I’m a big strong Navy man, am I?’
He knew what he was doing, and you did very little to fight back the heat growing under your cheeks.
‘You know what I meant.’
You had no idea how long you had been texting Bradley that night. You had woken up the next morning with your phone under your hand as you woke up to Maverick knocking on your door, asking if you wanted any breakfast. After responding to your dad, you flipped your phone over, unable to stop the smile from crossing your face when you saw the good morning text from Bradley. You replied to the message as you kicked your covers back, stretching before throwing a hoodie on over your pyjamas and heading downstairs to where your dad was preparing breakfast for you.
“Morning, dad.” You say with a smile, sitting at the table as Maverick places a plate of pancakes in front of you.
“Morning, sweetheart. How did you sleep?” Maverick asks, pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head before returning his attention to his own food.
“I slept well thanks, how about you?” You reply, beginning to dig into your breakfast as Maverick finishes plating up his food, crossing to the table to sit opposite you.
“I slept well. How was your evening with Bradley? Penny mentioned she saw you.” Maverick asks, glancing across at you as you smile.
“It was nice to catch up with him. And yes, I did see Penny. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me she worked there.” You say with a chuckle, hoping your dad doesn’t read between the lines too much and instead focuses on Penny.
“Well, I didn’t anticipate you going to the Hard Deck so soon. I was going to invite Penny and Amelia over at some point.” Maverick admits with a light shrug and a grin as you roll your eyes jokingly.
“I’d love to see them and have a proper catch up.” You say in agreement before eating another mouthful of food. You continue to chat with your dad until you both finish your food, and you tidy everything away before you feel your phone buzz in your pocket and you pull it out, smiling when you see the text from Bradley.
“What’s got you all smiley?” Maverick asks with a raised eyebrow and a smirk.
“Oh, just a friendly text from Bradley.” You lie, acting as if you hadn’t just read the text from Bradley confirming the time and place of your date tomorrow.
“Just friendly? Good.” Maverick says turning away and missing you rolling your eyes at his statement.
“Yeah, we know your rule.” You say, wishing your dad wasn’t as stubborn as he was, but you were also a Mitchell and held that same stubbornness, hence why you were so adamantly going against his rule. You typed out a hurried reply to Bradley’s text, telling him that the time and place he had picked sounded great and that you couldn’t wait to have your date.
You spent your day on the beach with Maverick, getting in some tanning time as you read. Penny ended up coming out to meet you with Amelia in tow. You spent time catching up with the mother-and-daughter duo, unable to believe how much Amelia had grown since you last saw her, and you loved getting to hear what she had been up to in recent years. Amelia even managed to convince you into going in the sea with her and you couldn’t help but smile and laugh with her as she attempted to splash you.
When you tired of the sea you returned to your towel, drying yourself off and sitting back down to join in with your dad and Penny’s conversations. And you didn’t miss how both your dad and Penny were acting around each other. You could tell they liked each other, they just needed to act on it.
Eventually, you and Maverick headed home after bidding Penny and Amelia goodbye, promising to keep in touch even after you head back to Chicago. And when you get home you open your phone to see messages from Bradley and you reply to them as quickly as possible, apologising for how long it had taken you to respond and picking up the conversation right up from where it had been left off. You loved texting Bradley; he could make you smile and blush like he was right there in front of you having a proper face-to-face conversation. You didn’t like that you had to lie to your dad about what you were talking about with Bradley, but he had chosen to come up with this stupid rule that had you and Bradley sneaking around like a pair of teenagers. But Bradley was worth the risk.
The next day you were in serious planning mode, you had to figure out a way to get out of the house without your dad asking too many questions or catching on to what you were going out to do. You knew the restaurant Bradley had picked wasn’t super fancy so you could get away with a nice, cute outfit that wouldn’t arouse too much suspicion from your dad and maybe you could get away with saying it was another friendly hang out. Maybe you could talk Penny into hanging out with Maverick to distract him and also potentially give them the opportunity to confess their own feelings after seeing the way they skirted around each other. You had conversed with Bradley about this dilemma, and he had offered to meet you at the end of your road instead of coming to the door and you knew that was more than likely the best option you had. If this date went well and there was another, you knew your dad would get suspicious about Bradley constantly turning up at the door. After some careful planning, you and Bradley had come up with the most effective plan to ensure that Maverick did not catch on to your evening plans.
By the time the evening came around, you had already planted seeds with your dad, telling him you wanted to go on an evening walk because you promised your friend a video tour of the sights of Miramar. With that in place, you had changed into the outfit you had picked for the date and texted Bradley that you were on your way out.
“You’re heading out then?” Maverick asks, smiling at you from where he was sat on the sofa and you smile over at him, grabbing the spare keys.
“Yep! Don’t worry about waiting up for me. Katie and I can chat for hours once we get going. Maybe you could invite Penny over or something?” You suggest, fighting the urge to smirk when you see your dad blush slightly at your question.
“You figured that out quickly, huh?” Maverick asks with a soft chuckle.
“You think I’d miss something as obvious as that? Nice try.” You say with a laugh, feeling your phone buzz in your pocket and you pull it out to find a message from Bradley, letting you know he was at the end of the road waiting for you.
“Look, I have to go. Call Penny.” You say, pointing at your dad with a joking warning finger before leaving the house, looking up and down the road until you spot a figure waiting at one end of the road and head towards them, knowing instantly that it was Bradley. You make your way towards him, your smile widening when he notices you, revealing a bunch of flowers he had behind his back.
“Hey.” Bradley says softly, smiling as you take the flowers.
“Hey.” You reply, admiring the beautiful flowers Bradley had picked out, he had assembled a bouquet of red carnations, it was simple but so beautiful and you couldn’t help but love Bradley just that little bit more because of it.
“I hope those flowers are okay.” Bradley says sheepishly, offering an arm out for you to take which you do so happily, letting him lead you to where he had parked his beloved Bronco nearby and opening the passenger side door for you, letting you get in the car before closing the door, rounding the car and getting in the driver's seat, starting up the engine and beginning the drive to the little restaurant Bradley had picked. The drive wasn’t too long, and you chatted the whole way. When you reached the restaurant, Bradley insisted you stayed put while he went and opened your door for you, telling you that you could leave the flowers on the seat for now before closing the door behind you and leading you into the restaurant.
“Hi, I have a reservation, should be under Bradshaw.” Bradley greets the host with a smile who consults the list in front of him before instructing you to both follow him. You follow him through the restaurant with Bradley by your side. You were shocked to find that Bradley had managed to reserve a table by a large window so you could overlook the beach and ocean, able to see the sun beginning its descent over the horizon.
“Bradley, this is amazing!” You say, unable to keep the excitement from your tone as Bradley yet again pulls your chair out for you, waiting for you to sit before tucking the chair a little closer to the table before going to his own seat.
“I wanted to make sure we had a good first date.” Bradley admits with a light shrug as he eases himself down into his seat, both of you picking up your menus in tandem, letting out a soft chuckle as you do so. You both scan the menus, talking about which meals sounded good before you both eventually came to a decision on meals and a drink. When the waiter comes around asking if you’re ready to order, both you and Bradley nod and ever the gentleman, Bradley lets you order first before ordering his own food and drink. The waiter writes down your orders before dismissing himself with the promise to return with your drinks, so you and Bradley pick up your conversation, both of you overwhelmingly happy with how the evening is going even if the date had only just started. Soon enough, the waiter returns with the drinks, placing them in front of you before dismissing himself again to serve other customers while your food is being prepared. By the time the food had arrived, you were sure that had you been on a date with anyone else, you would’ve run out of things to say but since it was Bradley, the conversation flowed naturally, and you never seemed to have a lull in the conversation even once and before too long your food arrived, and you both began to dig in.
“I never asked the other day. But how are you finding Chicago?” Bradley asks after a mouthful of food.
“It’s good. Obviously, I’ve been out there a while but I’m enjoying myself. I have some great friends out there, but I do feel quite far away from dad sometimes.” You admit, eyes flicking down to your plate before looking back up at Bradley who smiles in understanding.
“I get that. It’s hard to be away from family.” Bradley says, a soft understanding tone to his voice which makes you feel awful. You knew he had lost both his parents before he even reached the age of eighteen.
“Bradley, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to-”
“No don’t worry, honestly. It’s good. The more I talk about them the easier it gets.” Bradley says with a gentle smile, letting you know there were no hard feelings about it. With the topic settled, you were able to start a new conversation and the rest of the night ran smoothly. When it came to paying the bill, you went to get your card out, hand reaching to hand it to the waiter, but Bradley was quicker, gently taking your card from your hand and giving his card to the waiter instead.
“Bradley, come on I can pay.” You insist, your pleas in vain as the waiter begins to process the payment with Bradley’s card.
“I asked you on this date. It’s on me.” Bradley retorts with a grin, thanking the waiter as his card is handed back to him, finally giving your card back to you, chuckling as you huff lightly. Once everything is confirmed to have gone through, you’re given the freedom to leave and Bradley gets up first and you follow, letting him guide you through the bustling restaurant until you reach the cool night air of the outside world. You head back to the Bronco, of course letting Bradley open your door for you again. On the journey back, you both continue to talk with each other, even singing along lightly to one of the songs that come over the radio. By the time Bradley pulled up on the end of your road you couldn’t help but feel your heart sink at the realisation that the date was over. You had the best time with Bradley, and you wished you could spend more time with him. Once again, Bradley made you wait for him to open your door before you got out of the Bronco, this time you brought the flowers with you.
“I had the best night, Bradley.” You admit softly, smiling as Bradley smiles in response.
“So did I. Do you think we could have a second date?” Bradley asks, a slight sheepishness to his tone as he asks.
“I’d love to. This time, I’m picking the place and I’m paying.” You insist, pointing a joking finger at him as he laughs and shakes his head.
“Alright, you can pick. I’ll still come by and pick you up though.” Bradley replies, raising an eyebrow as you let out a soft sigh and nod.
“Deal.” You say, holding your free hand out for Bradley to shake which he does so.
“Deal.” Bradley agrees, squeezing your hand ever so softly before letting go.
“I’ll text you the details.” You say as Bradley nods.
“Got it. I can’t wait.” He replies, smiling as you nod in response.
“Good night, Bradley.” You say softly.
“Good night, y/n.” Bradley replies, his voice matching yours in softness. Just as you turn to head back to your dad’s house, you decide to turn to face Bradley and then kiss his cheek softly before whispering one last good night and heading back to Maverick’s house. As you head back to the house, you missed Bradley flushing a deep red with an awestruck smile on his face, watching as you walked down the road, unaware of the effect you had on him.
When you reached your dad’s house, you noticed that his bike was absent which made you tilt your head slightly in confusion before just deciding to shrug it off and enter the house. You were surprised to find none of the lights on, you flipped them on and found a note on the little shelf where the key bowl was. You opened the note and saw your dad’s scratchy handwriting, informing you that he’d gone to Penny’s house, making your eyebrows raise slightly in shock.
“Didn’t think he’d actually listen to me.” You mutter to yourself, heading through the house to try and find something in the kitchen that could act as a vase for the beautiful flowers Bradley had gotten for you. After searching for a few minutes, you were able to find something that would work and you filled it with water, putting the flowers in before heading upstairs to your room. You place the flowers on the bedside table before getting changed and then heading into the bathroom to clean your face and brush your teeth before getting into bed. You chose to stay up for a while to text Bradley before you both eventually decided to go to bed with the promise of talking in the morning.
The next morning, you woke up and were somewhat unsurprised to find that your dad was still out, so you looked around in the kitchen and found some food to make yourself some breakfast. As you prepared your breakfast, you texted Bradley a good morning message, smiling to yourself when he replied not long after you had sent your message. You continue to text him as you eat your food, unable to rid yourself of your smile as he continues to send you texts. In between messaging Bradley, you find yourself looking online for things to do that could potentially make an interesting date night for you and Bradley. You had decided that you weren’t going to actively look for a restaurant as you wanted to branch out a little and find something different for the two of you to do and as you searched you eventually found a nice-looking mini golf place along the beachfront and when you sent some pictures of the place to Bradley and proposed it as the location of your second date just for a little bit of fun he was more than onboard with the idea. The two of you decide on a time to meet later that day. You knew it was probably a bit soon to have a second date the day after the first, but you weren’t permanently in Miramar, and you were both aware of it and wanted to make the most of you being here.
Just as you finish cleaning up after yourself after finishing your food, you hear the front door open and Maverick call into the house, letting you know he has returned. You called back to Maverick, letting him know that you were just in the kitchen. It didn’t take him very long to head to the kitchen and you could tell from his face that he had a good night.
“So… how was Penny’s?” You ask with a raised eyebrow and smirk as your dad rolls his eyes at your words, heading to the coffee machine, grabbing a mug and filling it with coffee.
“I’m pretty sure you can figure it out for yourself.” Maverick mutters, silently willing his mug to fill up with coffee quickly.
“I’m sure I can.” You say with a soft chuckle, focusing on cleaning up after yourself.
“Did you have a good time calling your friend last night?” Maverick asks, finally picking up his mug and taking a sip of coffee.
“Yeah, she loved seeing the beach. She couldn’t stop talking about how jealous she was of the beach sunsets.” The lie came quickly and easily and thankfully your dad didn’t think much of it, just nodding lightly and continuing to sip on his coffee. It didn’t look like your dad was awake enough to hold a functioning conversation, so you quietly dismissed yourself, heading upstairs to shower and get changed so you’re ready for the day.
After showering, you enter your room to get changed and you smiled when you caught sight of the flowers on your bedside table. You couldn’t wait to spend another evening with Bradley. You don’t know how you were going to keep lying to your dad, especially if your next date went as well as the last and you were going to come back to Miramar in the future. You wished your dad could be okay with the idea of you and Bradley being together. You valued your dad’s opinion so much and you thought he of all people would be okay with you potentially dating Bradley. Bradley was an aviator, but he wasn’t one of the aviators your dad was talking about when he enforced the rule. Shaking yourself out of your thoughts, you finish getting ready for the day and head back downstairs and find your dad fast asleep on the sofa.
“You are the only person I know who could drink coffee and fall asleep right after.” You mutter quietly to yourself, picking up the empty mug and taking it to the dishwasher as you reminisce on all the times your dad would doze off so soon after having a cup of coffee. After the brief tidy up you debate your next move. Part of you wanted to go and hang out with Bradley, but you didn’t know where he lived, nor did you want him to get sick of seeing you before your second date. So, you ended up deciding to just entertain yourself, you had a book, and the beach was nearby so you decided to take yourself down to the beach to read and soak up the sun while you could. You packed up a small bag with your book and a couple of other little things you figured you’d need while you were out before leaving a little note on the coffee table in front of your dad so he wouldn’t panic when he eventually woke up.
After you left the house, you slowly made your way towards the beach. It had so quickly become one of your favourite spots in Miramar and it made you happy that your dad had finally been able to settle down somewhere as beautiful as this. You sat yourself down on the towel you had brought with yourself and opened your book, eyes beginning to scan the pages, getting immersed in the world you were reading about. There were a few times when cocky Top Gun trainees would whistle to get your attention and then flex and show off in front of you, all of them unaware of you rolling your eyes beneath your sunglasses. Those were the type of aviators you had vowed to avoid. And they didn’t know that your heart had already been stolen by a much kinder and gentler aviator. One who was more than likely their superior. Once you stopped paying them any mind, they grew bored in trying to get your attention and instead found someone else who would give them the attention they wanted. You were able to get through a good chunk of your book with the sounds of the beach surrounding you. Just as you decided to pack up and head back home, figuring you had been out long enough, you caught sight of a family playing on the beach, the father scooping his son up and holding him close as the boy giggled and hugged his dad. The sight made your heart melt, and it made you wish all the more that you could remember the time you had spent in Miramar when you were little.
After tearing your eyes away from the sight, you started to make your way home, still finding yourself admiring your surroundings with every step you took. It didn’t take you long to make your way back to your dad’s house and just as you entered the house, you heard the tv playing in the living room, letting you know that your dad was now a bit more awake. You then head into the living room, greeting your dad as you enter the room, smiling at him as he greets you in return.
“Did you have a good time at the beach?” Maverick asks as you ease yourself down onto the armchair, nodding as you sit down.
“It was nice to just relax and read my book. I don’t get to do that much back in Chicago.” You say, glad you took the time you had to take care of yourself and relax at somewhere as beautiful as the beach.
“I’m glad you got a chance to relax. It must get pretty busy with your job, huh?” Maverick muses, realising he’s never truly sat down and thought about how busy your life can be.
“It’s a lot of long hours. But I knew what I was getting myself into when I pursued this career.” You admit. You had inherited a lot from your dad, one of which was your willingness to put in the hard work to get yourself where you wanted to be in life.
“I probably don’t say this enough but I’m so proud of you.” Maverick says softly, smiling over at you which makes you smile at his words.
“That means a lot, dad. Thank you.” You say softly, both of you standing from where you were sat and crossing to each other, hugging each other tightly. It wasn’t that your dad didn’t tell you he was proud of you, even if he thought he didn’t say it enough, in fact, he had said it to you a lot growing up. When you graduated college, you were sure he said it a hundred times just at the ceremony alone. Every time he told you that he was proud of you, it made your heart swell. All you ever wanted to do was make your dad proud.
You decide to spend the day spending time with your dad, talking about things and even coercing him into telling you a few stories from when you were little and lived in Miramar. It was nice to hear some stories from your childhood, especially when Goose, Carole, and Bradley were involved in the stories. You knew your dad missed his friends, and that was part of the reason you didn’t want your potential relationship with Bradley to drive a wedge between them. They were both the last thing left they had of Goose and Carole, and you’d never forgive yourself if you ruined their relationship after they had just mended it. When it grows close to the time you agreed to meet with Bradley, you begin to excuse yourself, getting up from the sofa.
“Where are you off to tonight?” Maverick asks, watching as you get up and begin to cross to the doorway so you can freshen up.
“I found a mini golf place down by the beach and Bradley kindly agreed to come with me for a friendly match.” You say with a grin, hoping your dad doesn’t think too much about Bradley being mentioned.
“You’ve seemed so much happier now you’ve reconnected with Bradley.” Maverick says, clearly not missing the effect Bradley had on you since you started talking with him again.
“I didn’t realise how much I missed him until we started talking again.” You admit with a light shrug, trying not to give too much away about your feelings for Bradley.
“Well, I’m glad you two have been able to be friends again.” Maverick says with a nod, silently dismissing you and you take the chance, heading upstairs to change and freshen up for meeting Bradley.
It takes practically no time for you to freshen up and get ready for your second date with Bradley. You were silently thankful that you had the sense to pack some cute outfits for your visit because now you didn’t feel like you had to panic and find clothes that might work. When you finish getting ready, you head back downstairs after checking your phone and seeing a text from Bradley saying that he’s on his way, grab your key, and bid your dad a quick goodbye as you make your way out the door.
Once more you make your way down the road, realising that you beat Bradley to where you agreed to meet. You waited patiently for but a couple of minutes before Bradley walked up alongside you.
“Funny seeing you here.” Bradley says jokingly, both of smiling as you turn to face him.
“I never could’ve expected to run into you here.” You say, a joking sarcastic tone to your voice as you let out a breathy laugh before giving Bradley the hug he offered. After greeting each other, you both begin the walk to the mini golf place. It wasn’t too far from your dad’s house, and you enjoyed getting to walk with Bradley, especially when you had no shortage of conversation topics. It didn’t take you long to reach the mini golf course and as you got closer; you began to take longer strides to get out in front of Bradley to ensure you could pay for it. Thankfully, Bradley stuck true to the deal and patiently waited for you to pay, only stepping closer when the employee at the booth handed you two golf clubs and two golf balls, taking one of each from you.
“Let’s play.”
As you make your way around the course, taking it in turns while making light conversation with each other each step of the way. As you get ready to take your first shot on the course you had moved on to, Bradley quickly steps forward.
“Hey, do you mind if I just do something that might help you really quick?” Bradley asks, making your focus shift from the golf ball to him.
“Yes, of course.” You say with a smile, waiting as Bradley takes a step closer to you.
“Do you mind if I touch you?” Bradley asks, his voice soft as he studies your expression, not wanting to make you uncomfortable.
“Yes.” Your voice is just as soft as his. Bradley then gently rests his hands on your hips, missing how your breath hitches in your throat at the gentle contact.
“Is this okay?” His voice was soft against the shell of your ear, making your heart pound ten times faster.
“Of course.” You mumbled, fighting the feeling of your cheeks heating up as Bradley carefully adjusted your body, his hands remaining on your hips even after he had finished adjusting your body.
“There, try taking a swing now.” Bradley says, removing his hands from your hips and taking a small step back, making you hold back a frown at the sudden lack of contact. You try to focus yourself after Bradley had stepped away, focusing on where you needed to aim for, and not shifting your body from where Bradley had carefully placed it. You took a deep breath before swinging your club, hitting the golf ball with just enough power to bag yourself a hole-in-one.
“I did it!” You cry out triumphantly, holding your hands up in celebration.
“There you go!” Bradley praises, pulling you into a hug, and carefully avoiding your golf club.
“You’ve given away your best trick. Now I’m going to kick your ass.” You say smugly, laughing as Bradley shakes his head jokingly.
“You’re definitely a Mitchell with that competitive attitude.” Bradley jokes, making you roll your eyes before you and Bradley begin to move on to the next part of the course. It doesn’t take the two of you much longer to get through the remainder of the course and by the time you had finished, you had practically stopped keeping score, instead just focusing on having fun with each other. After returning the clubs to the employee at the booth, you took a little walk further down the beach, finding a wall to sit down at to watch the waves crashing gently against the shore. You and Bradley continue to converse quietly, taking in the beautiful sights the San Diego beach has to offer. At a lull in the conversation, Bradley turned to face you, making you mimic his actions.
“Are you okay, Bradley?” You ask softly, analysing his expression, trying to anticipate what he might say to you.
“Can I kiss you?” Bradley’s question took you off guard, yet you couldn’t stop your heart from pounding in excitement.
“Yes.” You replied breathlessly, and at your response, Bradley gently cupped your face in his hands, inching closer before his lips met yours, your eyes fluttering shut at the contact. The kiss was perfect, it was like putting together two pieces of a puzzle. You didn’t want the moment to end at all but eventually, the need for air became too much and you both gently pulled away from each other, smiling as you locked eyes.
“That was… wow.” You say breathlessly.
“I’m hoping that was a good wow.” Bradley says with a grin and a raised eyebrow.
“It definitely was.” You reply, leaning in for another kiss which Bradley is more than happy to reciprocate.
“Do you think we could make this official? Will you be my girlfriend?” Bradley asks, watching you with the gentlest gaze.
“I’d be a fool to say no to you.” You say happily, pulling Bradley into a hug, your grin widening further than you thought possible, especially when Bradley pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head as he squeezed you ever so slightly closer. You had never been happier than you were in this moment with Bradley. The two of you continue to chat, embracing each other as you watch the sunset across the horizon.
“We should probably get you home, huh?” Bradley muses softly when he feels you shiver against him, instantly shedding his jacket and wrapping it around your shoulders. You get up wordlessly, waiting for Bradley to follow suit and then you begin to slowly walk back together, hands interlinked as you quietly converse, nothing able to wipe the smiles from your faces. When you eventually reach the end of the road leading to your dad’s house once more, you turn to face Bradley.
“Tonight was amazing.” You say, squeezing Bradley’s hand softly.
“It was.” Bradley agrees softly.
“Looks like we have an excuse to see each other more before I leave then?” You muse softly, looking at Bradley as he nods.
“Absolutely.” Bradley says, his smile gentle.
“We can meet at the Hard Deck tomorrow. My squad will be there, but I won’t make you introduce yourself if you don’t want to though. We can find a quieter part of the bar to hang out.” Bradley then continues, carefully picking his words in an attempt to not scare you off.
“I wouldn’t mind meeting your team. I believe I owe one of them a thank you for saving you and dad on that mission you went on.” You say, more than happy to meet Bradley’s team.
“Don’t thank him, it’ll go straight to his head and then he won’t be able to shut up about it for ages.” Bradley says with a laugh, thinking about how Jake would react to being thanked.
“Well, I at the very least owe him a drink for what he did.” You say with a light shrug and a smile.
“I won’t stop you but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Bradley says with a soft shake of the head, making you roll your eyes with a light scoff.
“I can handle egotistical aviators any day of the week.” You say, folding your arms across your chest and raising your eyebrow as if accepting a challenge.
“You know, I’d pay good money to see you put Hangman in his place.” Bradley admits, chuckling to himself at the mental image of you taking Jake down a peg or two.
“If I need to, I will.” You say with a soft laugh, both you and Bradley knowing that you can absolutely handle yourself. You then both fall silent for a brief moment before Bradley clears his throat softly.
“I should probably let you head back.” Bradley says, nodding in the direction of Maverick’s house, not wanting to keep too long.
“Thank you again. Tonight was amazing.” You say, taking Bradley’s jacket off and handing it to him.
“I should be thanking you.” Bradley says, slipping his jacket back on.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Bradley.” You whisper, stepping closer to Bradley and placing a quick, soft kiss on his lips, pulling away with a smile.
“I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight.” Bradley whispers in response, smiling sweetly as you take a small step back offering him one last smile before turning around and making your way back to your dad’s house with a wide smile that you were sure could never fade.
When you entered the house, you were unsurprised to hear the tv on in the living room. After all, you and Bradley hadn’t been out too long, so it made sense that your dad was still up and about.
“Hey, dad.” You say, standing in the doorway to the living room, smiling as he looks over at you.
“Hey, sweetheart. How was the mini golf?” Maverick asks, his focus completely on you.
“It was great. We had a good time. I kicked Bradley’s ass of course.” You say, jokingly bragging even though you had no idea who had won or lost between you and Bradley.
“That’s my girl. Want to finish watching this movie with me?” Maverick offers, patting the sofa to encourage you over. You nod and cross the room to the sofa, easing yourself down on the sofa next to your dad, relaxing back against the cushions as you watch the movie. You loved watching movies with your dad, you had similar tastes in movies, and you made funny comments to each other during the movie, commenting on a character’s choice or how you would’ve handled a situation. Partway through the movie, your dad decided to order some food given that the two of you hadn’t had any dinner. The two of you perused a menu and picked some food before Maverick placed the order. You both continue to watch the movie until the doorbell rings, giving away that the food has arrived, and you go to pick it up from the delivery driver while Maverick grabs some plates and drinks. Once all the food is plated up, you focus back on the movie, still exchanging comments and enjoying each other’s company. It felt like forever since you had been able to spend time with your dad like this and you were so grateful that you took the time off to come and visit him.
By the time the movie had finished, the food had been eaten and you were feeling the excitement of the day catching up to you, so you stood up, stretching your arms above your head as you stood.
“I might go and start winding down. I’m exhausted.” You say, a yawn spilling past your lips as you talk, emphasising your point.
“I believe you. You go and get an early night, sweetheart.” Maverick says as you pick up your plate and cup, nodding lightly at his words, heading into the kitchen to put your things away before returning to the living room just as Maverick was standing up himself.
“Night, dad.” You mumble, reaching out to hug your dad which he happily reciprocates, holding you close.
“Night, y/n.” Maverick replies, squeezing you a little tighter before releasing you. When he lets you go, you head up to your room and quickly get ready for bed, clambering under the covers and texting Bradley. You had a back-and-forth chat with him, telling him about how excited you were to see him next and how you couldn’t wait to meet his team. You also confessed that you would like to tell your dad about your new relationship with Bradley before you went back to Chicago, but you wanted Bradley’s thoughts first and he let you know that whenever you were ready, he’d be there to help you tell Maverick.
Eventually, you fell asleep and when you woke up in the morning, you remembered that you’d be meeting with Bradley at the Hard Deck, and it kicked you into high gear. You knew you wouldn’t be meeting him until the late afternoon, but you wanted to ensure that you had sufficient time to prepare for the evening. You got up and once you were showered and dressed, you headed downstairs to make some breakfast for you and your dad. As you prepared the breakfast, you put the radio on quietly for some background noise and you hummed lightly to the song playing.
When Maverick came down for breakfast, you had just begun plating it up and you handed him a plate just as he began to sit down. You then poured him a mug of coffee, placing it down on the table with a smile before focusing on plating up your own food. You then sit down opposite your dad and the two of you have a chat over dinner. You decided you’d spend the day with your dad before heading to the Hard Deck, so you laid out a plan with your dad since you knew you didn’t have much longer left in Miramar. You were excited to do some more things with your dad, especially given the number of times you’d been disappearing in the evenings to hang out with Bradley. You go with your dad to various places around Miramar that you haven’t seen yet. He even took you to Top Gun, showing you around his workplace, and even able to show you some of the jets he flew. Stepping back into Top Gun felt familiar to you, you didn’t have any concrete memories of the building, but the familiarity was overwhelming, and you were so happy your dad found himself back at Top Gun, so he not only had the familiarity but because he also had the stability of working in one place without having to move constantly. By the time you had finished the tour of Top Gun, you became aware of the time and turned to your dad.
“Hey, dad. I promised Bradley I’d meet with him at the Hard Deck to meet his team in like an hour or so. Is it okay if I head home to get sorted?” You ask, turning to face your dad.
“You’ve been spending an awful lot of time with Bradley. Is there anything you should know about?” Maverick asks, eyebrow slightly raised as he watches you.
“Dad, it’s not like that. He just wanted me to meet his friends. Besides, I do owe one of them a drink at least for saving you and Bradley.” You reply, shrugging lightly as you explain yourself. You longed to tell your dad, but you knew it wasn’t the right time, not without Bradley to support you through it.
“Well, that’ll go straight to his head.” Maverick says with a chuckle gesturing with his head for you to follow him which you do so, trying to hide your smirk when you realise your dad has said practically the same thing that Bradley had when you mentioned buying a drink for the aviator who saved both your dad and Bradley. You followed your dad out to his car, finding it a little bit funny at the number of times he’s used the car in the duration of your stay when you know he’d much rather be riding around on his motorbike. You both get into the car and Maverick begins the drive back to his house.
Once he pulls up and parks the car, you both get out and you make your way into the house and up to your room so you can freshen up. After you’ve made yourself a little more presentable for the evening, you head back downstairs to spend a little bit more time with your dad before heading down to the Hard Deck. Just before you leave to head down to the bar, you bid your dad goodbye, promising to be back before it’s too late.
The walk to the Hard Deck was quiet without Bradley around to keep you company, but you knew you’d be seeing him soon enough. Besides, as you made your way down to the bar, you were able to appreciate the beauty around you before you had to go back to Chicago.
By the time you make it to the Hard Deck, you feel your phone buzz in your pocket making you stop in your tracks, pull your phone out of your pocket to read the message you had received from Bradley, letting you know that he was in the Hard Deck and that you could just head in whenever you were ready. Taking a deep breath, you head into the bustling bar, glancing around and quickly locating Bradley just by his Hawaiian shirt, seeing him standing with a group of people who you could only assume were his team. As you cross the room, Bradley turns around and catches sight of you, eyes lighting up as he smiles and crosses to meet you in the middle, instantly capturing your lips in his for a sweet kiss.
“Well, that’s one way to say hello.” You mumble with a smile as you both pull away slightly, smiling at each other.
“I’m just happy to see you.” Bradley confesses softly, pulling you into a gentle hug, and pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
“That makes both of us.” You reply happily, eyes fluttering closed in the embrace for a brief moment before you pull away.
“Let’s get you acquainted with the team, shall we?” Bradley says, wrapping a gentle arm around your waist and guiding you over to the group of people he had just been standing with by the pool table. As you approach the group, Bradley is quick to introduce you to everyone, making sure he made it known that you were his girlfriend before he introduced everyone by name. Once you had been introduced to everyone, you turned to address the group.
“Alright, so which of you is the one I owe a drink for saving my dad and Bradley?” You ask, making the group exchange looks at the realisation that you’re not only Bradley’s girlfriend but Maverick’s daughter as well. Once they get over the initial shock of the revelation, a blond man steps forward, a cocky smirk on his face as he smiles at you.
“Well, sounds like you owe me a drink then.” He says with a smirk, leaning back against the pool table with an eyebrow raised.
“I’m a woman of my word.” You say simply, shrugging with a laugh before going over to the bar to order a drink for both you and Jake from Penny, greeting her happily as you do so. When you’ve grabbed the drinks, you return to the group, handing one of the beers to Jake which he takes happily, making sure everyone saw the special treatment he believed he was getting.
“You weren’t lying when you said it would go to his head.” You muse with a laugh as Bradley winds an arm around your middle, pulling your back to his chest as he lets out a soft chuckle.
“He’s just warming up.”
Unbeknownst to you and the others, Maverick entered the bar while you were all occupied with your conversations and sat himself at the bar, smiling at Penny as he did so. As he received his drink, he glanced over at you with the Daggers, and his eyebrows furrowed as he saw the embrace Bradley had you in, and he certainly didn’t miss Bradley pressing soft kisses to your cheek as you laughed, looking up at him with all the love in the world.
“Did you know about them?” Maverick asks the next time Penny stops in front of him, gesturing over in your direction with his head.
“No more than you did clearly. But it was obvious they liked each other the moment they had that little meet-up when y/n first came back. Bradley did mention you warning him away from her though.” Penny says, focusing her attention on a stain on the bar top and wiping a cloth along it.
“I just didn’t want her to get hurt. I know what aviators are like.” Maverick says, eyes fixed on the drop of condensation running down the beer bottle in his hand.
“Pete, she’s not a child and I’m sure she’s told you as much. Besides, Bradley looks at her like she holds the entire world in her hands. Bradley’s not like the others. Give him a chance.” Penny says softly, watching the man in front of her softly, seeing how he silently processes her words. Instead of responding, Maverick looked back over to where you and Bradley were, and he could see the look of love evident on both of your faces.
Suddenly, a patron at the bar who was clearly already much too drunk stumbled in your direction and Maverick was convinced he had never seen a quicker reaction from Bradley until right now. Bradley, with one of the arms he had wrapped around your middle, carefully manoeuvred you so that you were now behind him, and he took the brunt of the patron falling on him, immediately steadying him while shooting him a warning look. Once the guy had wandered back to his friends, Bradley turned around to face you, placing gentle hands on your hips and giving you a soft kiss, pulling away with a gentle smile before inaudibly chuckling at something you said.
“They look happy together.” Maverick says softly, thinking of how Goose used to look at Carole the same way Bradley was looking at you.
“They do. Give Bradley a chance.” Penny reiterates, looking down at Maverick who nods sheepishly.
“I’ll speak to them in a bit. I don’t want to disturb them yet.” Maverick says, turning his attention to Penny, smiling softly at her before striking up a new conversation with her.
Across the bar, you were talking to the Daggers, finding out some more stories from when Bradley had first come back to Top Gun.
“Should’ve seen him. He was a menace when he found out Maverick was teaching. Damn near got themselves killed during training with the stunts they pulled.” Jake explains, beer in hand as he leans up against a nearby table as you watch Bradley and Natasha play a game of pool against each other.
“Somehow that doesn’t surprise me. Bradley was pretty pissed at dad when everything went down, and dad’s stubborn as anything.” You say with a gentle roll of the eyes.
“I’m just glad they got past their issues by the time they went on the mission. I hate to admit it, but they’re our best solo aviators.” Javy admits with a chuckle, making you smile as Jake gawps in mock shock.
“I’m right here you know. I’m the one who saved their asses.” Jake shoots in retaliation, making you and Javy laugh to yourselves.
“What are you two laughing about?” Bradley asks with a smile, sidling up alongside you.
“Javy admitting that you and dad were among the best two pilots for the mission seemed to be a bit of a hit to Jake’s ego.” You explain, making Bradley chuckle as he reaches out to clap Jake on the shoulder then holding out the pool stick for him to take.
“Let’s step outside for a minute.” Bradley mumbles, his voice low as he dips his head near your ear so you can have a semi-private conversation with the bustling volume of the bar. You nod and let Bradley lead you towards the front door of the bar, both of you instantly stopping in your tracks when you see your dad standing near the door, a soft smile on his face.
“Can we talk?” He asks the two of you, eyes flicking between you and Bradley as you both nod lightly. Maverick then gestures for you to follow him outside which you do, stepping out onto the deck and watching the waves crash against the beach.
“Mav I-”
“Bradley, I think it’s best I do the talking here. Look I was wrong to tell the two of you to stay away from each other. Just seeing the two of you earlier was enough of a wake-up call for me to realise that I was being a dick and that you both clearly love each other. I won’t get in your way.” Maverick says, making you and Bradley exchange a look before looking back at your dad.
“Dad…” You mumble, heart softening at your dad’s gentle smile.
“Bradley looks at you the same way Goose looked at Carole.” Maverick then continues, making you look at Bradley who has a slight blush painted across his cheeks at the revelation.
“Thank you, Mav. I promise I’ll look after her.” Bradley promises, holding a hand out for Bradley to shake, instead being pulled into a hug by your dad.
“I know you will.” Maverick says reassuringly before pulling away from the embrace, patting Bradley on the shoulder, and taking a step back before you hug your dad gratefully.
“I love you dad, thank you for giving us a chance.” You whisper, only audible to you and Maverick.
“I love you too, sweetheart. Now, enjoy the rest of your evening.” Maverick replies, squeezing you a little tighter and planting a kiss on the top of your head before releasing you and heading back into the Hard Deck. After the door closes behind your dad, Bradley turns to face you with a grin and slightly raised eyebrow.
“Would you like to come to mine?”
It took practically no time for you and Bradley to get back to his small house, the two of you head into the living room and settle down on the sofa. As you sit down, Bradley wraps an arm around you and pulls you into his side gently. At the shift of embrace, you look up at Bradley, a soft smile on your face that matches his. Before you knew it, you started to lean up to press your lips to his softly, pulling away for a brief moment to adjust yourself, turning yourself more towards Bradley and cupping his face in your hands before kissing him once more. Bradley was quick to reciprocate the kiss, bracing a gentle hand on the back of your head in an attempt to hold you closer while his other hand winds around your waist, pulling you closer in that way as well as your eyes and his flutter closed. When the need for air becomes too much for both of you, you pull away but only enough to press your foreheads against each other, eyes opening again as your hand drifts up to play with Bradley’s hair.
“I know your dad pointed it out earlier but… I love you.” Bradley murmurs, a shy smile on his face as you smile back.
“I love you too.” You reply quietly before Bradley reconnects your lips for another kiss. Pulling you impossibly closer until air is needed once more.
“I know I’ve already asked you to be my girl, but what if you stayed? Is there a way you could stay here, with me?” Bradley asks, knowing that it was probably a long shot to ask you such a question, especially when the two of you had not long got together but he couldn’t just sit by and let his chances slip by again. To his surprise, you smiled, and gently ran a hand through his hair.
“I was actually visiting for more than just seeing dad. I actually got an offer to transfer to a hospital here in San Diego. I wanted to see the area before I made a choice and… I think I have a reason to accept it now.” You say, barely able to finish your sentence before Bradley kisses you again, gently pushing you back until you are lying back on the sofa with him hovering over you.
“Well looks like we have some good news to celebrate then.” Bradley says after breaking the kiss, smiling down at you as you smile back.
“Sounds like we do.” You mumble before grabbing the lapels of Bradley’s Hawaiian shirt to pull him back down for another kiss.
“I think we should take this to my room.” Bradley mumbles against your lips, making you loosen your grip on his shirt slightly so he can pull away, pulling you up with him yet still unable to keep his hands and lips off you as you make your way upstairs to his room. Just as you reach the door to his room you begin tugging his Hawaiian shirt off, carelessly discarding it on the floor as Bradley braces himself against the door, pushing it open behind him as you stumble in after him.
You couldn’t wait to make the move to Miramar now you had Bradley. You knew he was worth the risk.
#justabigassnerd#justabigassnerd writes#top gun#top gun maverick#top gun fic#top gun maverick fic#rooster top gun#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley 'rooster' bradshaw#bradley bradshaw#rooster x y/n#rooster x reader#rooster#bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw x y/n#bradley bradshaw x mitchell!reader
477 notes
·
View notes
Text
Need to know
summary: an accidental call to your boyfriend on girls night leaves everyone shocked at a revelation they never thought they would have; bob fucks.
pairing: robert floyd x girlfriend!reader
word count: 1.8k
warnings: allusions to smut throughout but none actually, mentions of alcohol, mentions of a daddy kink, one mention of 50 shades of grey as a joke 😭
part 2!
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Bob, Rooster and Coyote were all sat on the couch in Hangman’s living room whilst an old 80s rock record played through the speaker, watching the latter animatedly talk about some new position him and his girlfriend had tried out the night previous.
“And then I had her leg wrapped around my neck Javy, it was literally insane.”
Javy laughed at his best friend’s antics whilst Rooster spluttered, “You’re so full of shit Bagman! Not even a gymnast could pull that off.” Bob nodded in agreement and Jake started up again.
“Rooster, you’re just mad that the grannies you’re ploughing in missionary get arthritis before you can finish.”
Bob couldn’t even politely hold in his laugh at the dig as Coyote started to smack his arm in an effort to stop cackling, whilst Rooster huffed something about how she was only two years older than him with an eye roll. Now filled with the urge for revenge Rooster decided to strike the first person in his eye line.
“How come we never get to hear about you and your girlfriend Bob?” Rooster questioned, which was cruel of him. He knew Bob was a private person but the alcohol they had slowly been consuming over this ‘boys night’ had lowered his inhibitions slightly and he was still seething from Jake’s dig so Bob seemed like the easy target. Bob shrugged as the boys turned to him expectantly.
“It’s not gentlemanly, I dont expect she says anything about us to her friends either,”
Coyote seemed pleased with his response and slapped him on the back a little too painfully before putting in his (unwanted) two cents.
“See that boys? Always the southern gentleman hey Bob?”
Jake laughed loudly at the two admissions he had just heard.
“What bagman?” Bob asked, growing more agitated by his friends who were a little more inebriated than he was.
“You are out of your depth if you think Phoenix, Halo and our girlfriends aren’t talking about us specifically in the bedroom right now.”
Reminded of your current whereabouts, Bob began to wonder what you and your girlfriends talked about on your bi-monthly girls night. After all that is why he was drinking at Hangman’s place. Jake would never admit it but he hates being alone in his house without his girl, hence the invitation to boys night being sent out to his friends. Bob was about to speak up again when ‘My Girl’ by the temptations started playing from his pocket, signifying that his girlfriend was indeed calling him. Jake giggled out,
“Seriously Baby on board, I promised my girlfriend I’d start being nicer to people but you are making that promise so goddamn hard right now.”
Rooster felt bad for starting up this conversation and came to Bob’s defence,
“I love this song,” this prompted a fake gag from Jake into Javys face.
“Can you guys shush for like one sec,” Bob pleaded before answering the call.
“Hey baby,” Bob spoke.
No reply. Weird.
“Hello?” Bob spoke again, he could hear muffled sounds but no clear words. Begrudgingly switching the phone to speaker in one last attempt to hear you clearly, Bob held his phone out and the boys leaned in rather too nosily for Bob’s liking. There was more muffled noises until a sound rang out that the boys assumed was you moving your phone into a better position.
“Hi baby,” Bob tried again, but it became obvious that you couldn’t hear him. He reached to end the call when a voice rang out.
“YOU CALL HIM WHAT?!” Jake’s ears perked up, he would recognise that voice anywhere, that was unmistakably his girlfriend. Jake gestured for Bob to put his phone on the coffee table so they could all hear where the rest of this conversation (which was definitely not meant for their ears) would go. Bob felt slightly bad that this would be an invasion of your privacy, but that feeling quickly subsided when he heard your response.
“Look, Daddy kinks aren’t even that uncommon, Jake has made you do even crazier stuff and you can’t even argue that!”
Rouge began to spread across Bob’s cheeks and he reached to end the call to prevent further embarrassment in front of his closest friends. However, all three other boys seemed to be working in tandem as Coyote moved to hold Bob down and Hangman held the phone away from him all whilst Rooster reminded Jake that he should mute themselves so that they shouldn’t have to worry about a noise coming from them which would alert you of the call currently taking place without your knowledge.
Phoenix cut in before Jakes girlfriend could retaliate to your earlier statement. She was curious,
“And like.. you enjoy that?” Bob was reminded of the sheer amount of people who he worked with who were now aware of a certain preference he had and he cringed.
Your giggle was heard across the phone and the boys struggled to contain their own.
“I mean when I first met him I was not expecting it at all, but like… it’s so hot when he takes charge,” the girls all squealed and you were spurred on, “the other week he even tied my hands up so I couldn’t touch him when he went down on me.”
More squeals ensued but not just from the girls, Rooster was surprisingly high pitched when he wanted to be. Halo squawked out,
“Phe I cannot believe your little back seater is a total fifty shades of grey type freak!”
Jake’s girlfriend seemed to find this even funnier than everyone else,
“‘Little’! Ha! You’re funny Halo!” This intrigued the two female pilots even more as they prodded at you. Phoenix spoke up first,
“How am I supposed to look him in the eyes after this?!” She laughed.
Halo then decided to question you further, “Okay, I’m gonna move my hands apart and you tell me when to stop,”
A snort from Jake’s girlfriend followed and then silence for a few seconds. The boys stared Bob down suddenly wishing they were with the girls. A shriek interrupted their train of thought and Bob buried his face into his hands.
“NO WAY!” Halo all but screamed. You winked at her and she screamed again, “God, no wonder I saw you limping around the Hard Deck the other day!”
Rooster looks up at this revelation and questioned Bob, “Bro you said she hurt her knee at work,” Bob smiled sheepishly and Coyote continued his annoying habit of smacking anyone in the near vicinity when he finds something particularly funny.
Bob shushed them all as you began to speak again, “Look if we’re being honest now I want to admit something else,”
“Please have a sex dungeon, please have a sex dungeon, please have a sex dungeon, please have-”
“Jake shut the fuck up he does not have a sex dungeon,” Rooster came to Bob’s defence once again, “…do you?”
Bob scoffed at the absurdity of Roosters question, “Hey! I was just checking man!”
You started up again, “that time I lost my voice from a mean cold… it was not a cold.” The girls shrieked with laughter, “and that’s all I’m saying on that matter.”
There was movement on the phone as Phoenix finally spoke up from her laughter, “I need another drink, anyone else for one?” There was a combination of yeses and Halo got up to help her retrieve what was left of the wine.
There was more shuffling then a loud gasp much clearer than everything else the boys had heard, they looked at each other and grinned.
Jake’s girlfriend looked up from her phone and asks you, “whats up, babe?”
“I’ve been on call to Bobby this whole time.”
Bob couldn’t help but laugh at your use of the sweet nickname after seemingly revealing all of yours and his dirty secrets.
Jake’s girlfriend ever the people pleaser tried to reassure you, “Well we didn’t hear anything from them? Maybe he butt answered your butt dial?”
You breathed a sigh of relief at her words, because they made sense right? You reached to end the call but then a voice from your phone spoke up.
“Baby, you are far too optimistic.” Jake chuckled into the phone hoping to surprise his girlfriend.
Jake’s girlfriend laughed and you gasped, “Jake! Hi um… sorry how long have you been on the phone? Is it just you there?”
A chorus of laughs occur from the boys side of the phone and you groan into Jake’s girlfriends hair.
Rooster speaks up this time in a teasing tone, “Best behave for Daddy tonight Angel.” And you groan even further into Jake’s girlfriend as Phoenix and Halo return with wine in hand.
Phoenix gives you a confused look and you explain, “I butt dialled Bob.” Halo threatens to spill the remnants of wine with how hard she is shuddering with laughter.
Phoenix speaks into the phone, “Hi boys!”
Coyote laughs and responds, “Hey Phoenix!”
You finally dare to ask the question that’s been plaguing you, “So how much of that did you actually hear?”
Your sweet, loving boyfriend finally spoke up, “From about the daddy kink up until now, Sweetheart.” He chuckled.
“I’m so sorry, Bobby.” You cringed.
“Don’t worry about it, just be glad I’m not trying to break your legs like Bagman is with those positions with his girl.”
You giggled into your friend again whilst protests from Jake could be heard.
“Okay Baby, well I’ll see you soon?” You asked and you could practically hear Bob’s smirk through the phone.
“Yes you will, Sweetheart.”
After hearing his response you absentmindedly tap your phone to end the call and place it face down away from you.
Jake’s girlfriend piped up, “at least he didn’t hear us talk about you know what!” And you all giggled in relief.
“WE DONT KNOW WHAT !” Jake yelled into the phone.
“Still here Sweetheart,” Bob laughed, and you hurriedly picked your phone up.
“Oh my god what is wrong with me ?!” You whined. Bob laughed in response and Phoenix took your phone ending the call definitely before something too embarrassing was revealed.
Halo piped up, “I suggest a no phone rule at the next girls night!” You groaned into the pillow behind you.
The boys were staring at Bob, somewhat awestruck.
“What?” Bob laughed.
“Why are we all pretending we don’t wanna know what his dick looks like now?” Rooster asked.
Bob pulled away just quick enough before his arm became anymore bruised from Coyote’s violent laughter so Jake fell victim instead.
Bob almost felt bad for Jake but then he spoke up, “Daddy! Help me!” With a shit eating grin on his face.
God, you were in for it when you got home.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
a/n: i have always been a part of the bob fucks agenda but here is my little contribution HAHAH,, also i thought maybe a lil continuation w jake and his gf here ??? if anyone wants more on those two lemme knowww!!
lew lew i love you 🫶
pls comment, reblog or message me and tell me what u think !! all notes are appreciated <3
thank u for reading :)
- honey <33
#top gun#top gun movie#top gun fanfiction#top gun maverick#top gun bob#bob floyd#robert floyd#bob floyd x reader#robert floyd x reader#bob floyd smut#bob floyd fanfiction#top gun smut#top gun imagine#bob floyd x you#robert floyd x you#lewis pullman#hangman#rooster#jake seresin#jake seresin x reader
7K notes
·
View notes
Text
In a Place Just Right
Summary: It's your first year hosting Thanksgiving in San Diego for the Daggers and Bradley can tell you're a little nervous about it. But he already knows it's going to be one for the books, because any holiday spent with you better than anything he could have imagined.
Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Female Reader
Length: 5K
Warnings: fluff and allusions to smut (minors dni)
(author's note: this fic is set in the 'Like I Can Universe', but can be read on it's own! Happy Thanksgiving, friends!)
For the last six years Penny has been the one to host Daggersgiving, but this year hostess duties had fallen on your plate. Needless to say, Bradley knew you were more than a little stressed about it.
When you had asked him about his opinion on the merits of canned cranberry sauce versus homemade he’d blinked at you a few times before asking, “Is this a thing people care about?”
He’ll never forget how adorably aghast you looked to learn that he had no preference on the matter. And maybe if you had asked him when the sun was up instead of at 3 AM he might have known better than to give you such a noncommittal answer.
“Both, we’ll have both,” you’d stated resolutely.
“Whatever you want, kid," he’d murmured as he’d pulled you to his chest and wrapped an arm around your stomach. His smart and beautiful wife. "Now go back to sleep, you’re supposed to be dreaming of sugarplums not cranberries."
“Wrong holiday, Bradley,” you’d sighed contentedly, relaxing against him. And it hadn’t taken you long to fall back asleep with that cranberry crisis having been averted.
But now people were due to show up in less than an hour and you are frantically fluttering and huffing around the kitchen like a madwoman in a very pretty green dress, "I knew that quickie was a bad idea. You're never quick, Bradley."
He’d been away and missed many holidays over the years due to his career.
Your mom had always made it clear that he had an open invitation to join in whatever merry festivities were happening with your family, but more often than not it rarely aligned with him being stationed all over the world. But he’d always been happy to get to have a phone call with you and eat the homemade cookies you’d sent him on those years spent apart.
But now Bradley got to look forward to spending every holiday with you in the home you shared with him.
Over the last week the house had slowly but surely transformed into something that was straight out of a magazine.
There was a display of pumpkins, ribbons, and a garland of strung dried orange slices that decorated the fireplace. And overpriced candles from your favorite store flickered cheerfully on every surface that wasn’t a fire hazard to a bunch of enthusiastic Naval aviators. The dining table was dressed up to the nines and everyone spot with their names painstakingly written in your pretty script on a place card sitting in a pinecone.
You had even made some oversized confetti in the shape of oak leaves out of some old books, the copy of ‘Why Men Love Bitches’ that Nat had given him years ago as a joke was finally repurposed and recycled into something more festive over where the beverages had been set up.
The whole house smells amazing. Warm cinnamons and nutmegs mixing with bright citrus and rich vanillas. The kitchen island and countertops were filled with various plates and platters and bowls of dips, charcuterie, fruit and vegetables, nuts, and other savories. All the other dishes were being kept warm in the ovens for when everyone arrived and was ready to settle around the dining table for dinner.
Bradley was positive that no one would leave feeling hungry. He also wasn’t entirely sure where the things his friends are bringing were going to go, but there were worse problems to have.
Penny had taken Amelia with her to visit her family on the East Coast. They’d decided it would probably be better for Mav to hang back in San Diego for the holiday, those tensions with her dad were still a bit strained even though they’d been married for almost four years now.
Which is how the Bradshaw’s were hosting their first Thanksgiving for everyone.
This morning had been organized chaos. Some of the last minute-things had only managed to be checked off with the assistance of strong coffee and a good playlist.
However, he’d still managed to sneak in the opportunity to spin you around the kitchen to your wedding song when it came up on shuffle. After all the cranberries were still popping and boiling down; there was time for it, he'd always make time for it.
But that was then.
Now, you are glaring at him like you’d been personally victimized by him and his cock.
“You complaining, sweet girl?” he asks with a smirk, leaning his hip against the kitchen island watching as you briskly stir the gravy heating up in the copper sauce pot on the stove. “Don’t think that’s what I was hearing thirty minutes ago when we had that pretty green dress of yours bunched around your hips. Sounded something like ‘more, Bradley, more’ to me.”
You shoot him a look that would make a weaker man wither, but he’s built up an immunity to it over a lifetime of having it directed at him.
“I think that’s quite enough out of you,” you reprimand, but he sees the amusement in your eyes even as you fight to keep the annoyed façade on your face. “We’re behind schedule now. I thought I buffered in enough time, just in case-”
“Just in case you begged me to give you an orgasm to, and I quote, ‘help me chill out’?”
“I was kidding,” you say, stopping your agitated whisking to go fluff the stuffing instead.
“All I’m saying is that if my beautiful wife is begging for me, I’m certainly not going to say no. I’m only human,” he says with an all too pleased shrug.
Bradley grabs the can opener and works on opening the canned cranberry sauce. He reaches for a couple plates, holding them up for your approval and you point to the one on the right. The scalloped white one with gold rim it'll be.
“For the record, I certainly did not beg,” you say primly, glowering into the homemade stuffing that you’d had him get the bread from the nice bakery across town for.
“Sure, sure,” he drawls, the smirk growing wider on his face as he sets to freeing the jelly from its rippled container.
He knows he shouldn’t tease you right now, but you’re so cute when you get huffy that he can’t help himself. He’s known that petulant raise of your chin his whole life. And sometimes when he looks at you he can so clearly see the little girl he’d been forced to entertain for hours when your moms were hanging out.
You went from being his favorite nuisance to his best friend to his everything.
“Do I still look ok? Or do I need to do a quick refresh before everyone gets here?” you ask. You turn to fully face him, tilting your head one way and then another for his inspection.
He would happily stare at you all day if you’d let him. He loves your pretty eyes and what you’ve done with your hair.
“You’re beautiful,” he grins, “And if anyone asks, we can just say you’re flushed from all the cooking.”
“Bradley,” you whine setting down your wooden spoon down on the counter with a sharp thwack.
“Ok, ok. I’m done, I promise,” he says putting his hands up in surrender with a chuckle.
He pushes off the counter and grabs a glass off of one of the floating shelves and fills it with some ice water.
“Good,” you tut haughtily, as you fiddle with the white and orange striped kitchen towel hanging on the oven door, “I was about to threaten to make you sleep on the couch tonight.”
“You wouldn’t.” Even the thought of it makes his stomach feel unsettled.
After nearly two decades of hard beds on foreign bases and on lumpy carrier mattresses, he’s never slept as well as he did since the two of you found your way to each other.
His peace was found under a fluffy green duvet on a wooden canopy bed with you tucked under his arm.
“No. No, I wouldn’t,” you agree, leaning in to place a soft kiss to his cheek in thanks when he presses the cold glass into your hands.
Bradley tugs you away from the warm stove and you reluctantly follow and sit on the barstool he’s pulled out for you on the other side of the kitchen island.
He runs his hand up and down your back comfortingly as you take a few sips, “We’re in a great place, sweet girl.”
“Mhm, yeah. Sure, of course.” You couldn’t sound less unsure if you tried. “It’s just… I’m nervous about the mushroom and leeks bread pudding. I’ve never made it before. And what if we run out of wine?”
“What’s been our motto?” he asks, taking over the helm at the stove whisking the gravy together as it begins to thicken.
“‘In Ina we trust’,” you say with a serious nod of your head.
“Atta girl, we sure do. And Nat said she’s is bringing a few bottles she picked up from when she went to Napa, the good shit. It’s going to be great. Trust me,” he says giving you a warm smile. “Will it make you feel better to go over everything again?”
“Yes, please,” you say, anxiously drumming your fingers along the side of your water glass.
He’d stepped up where he could like making sure the house was pristine and cleaning up the yard by blowing off the wrinkled remainders of the yellow Tipuana flowers. He’d even been able to source and rent some more chairs to make sure that everyone would have a seat at the table.
Bradley wasn’t a schlump in the kitchen. He knew his way around a cookbook and a stove. His knife skills were pretty damn good too, if he did say so himself. But he also knew when somethings were out of his wheelhouse. So he’d taken to being your sous chef, and had taken to washing and prepping the ingredients for you so that all you had to do was toss them in whatever shiny pot they were destined for.
He even made his mom’s favorite pie. It had been years since he's had it, and he was excited to share it with everyone.
Your mom had mailed the copy of the original recipe she had that was written in Carole’s rounded, flourished script. You had made a photocopy of it to use so that the original didn’t get ruined, and then pointed out a spot on the wall where you said you’d thought it would look nice in a frame hanging in the kitchen. And he'd fallen a little more in love with you.
“Ok, hit me with it,” he says turning the heat to low for the gravy and putting the lid on.
This was a partnership through and through, he was going to give you all the support you needed.
“The turkey?”
Bradley picks up the fancy digital meat thermometer he’d bought for the occasion to check, “Big Bird has an hour and twenty more minutes to work on his tan and then he’ll rest for another thirty. Giving people time to graze and mingle and get some drinks in them, just like you wanted.”
You nod and hum contemplatively, “I’ve been thinking we need a salad. I don’t feel like we have enough vegetable options.”
He knows better than to point out that you’re currently snacking on snap peas from not one, but three, of the veggie platters the two of you had put together the night before.
“We’ve got the crispy brussels sprouts, the garlic and hazelnut green beans, and the honey glazed carrots with lemon. We’re more than fine on the fiber and beta-carotene. Michelle Obama would be proud, kid.”
That gets a little laugh from you.
“Well, as long as you think Michelle would be happy than we’re probably fine,” you say with a smile around your water glass that tells him you know exactly what he’s doing invoking your favorite First Lady.
“What else are you thinking about?” Bradley asks peering in the lower of their double ovens, where foiled covered dishes are lined up in perfect symmetry are warming away having been prepared in advance.
“Do you think two bags of rolls will be enough? Or should I text Mav and ask him to grab one more?”
He doesn’t miss the way your eyes dip down to his ass in his gray slacks. So he might linger as second longer than necessary to let you enjoy the view, since it’s for the female gaze and all.
He’s never understood wearing the most restrictive clothing on the holiday that involves the most eating, but that was Penny’s tradition to have everyone dressed in their nicest and you had insisted on keeping it going even if she was on the other side of the country.
You’d teased him earlier when you’d seen him emerge from the bedroom wearing the short-sleeved green cashmere polo you’d gotten him a couple years ago. It fit a little more snug that he remembered it, but he thought he still pulled it off well.
“When did we become the couple that matches?” you’d asked gesturing to your dress as you gave him an appreciative onceover.
If the past was anything to go off of, you would be running your hands over the soft material covering his chest and back all night.
“I just like reminding people who I belong with, sweet girl.”
He might have had something else in mind to wear for the evening before he saw you in that dress, had ironed the shirt the night before and everything, but last-minute pivot it was well worth it when you looked at him like that.
When he stands back up, he gives you knowing wink.
And in return you throw a baby carrot at him with a laugh.
Bradley isn’t surprised in the least to hear the quick clack-clack-clack of nails on the wood floors as their fluffy black and white Portuguese Water Dog rounds the corner. Having been summoned by the sound of food hitting the floor from where he had been dozing near the fireplace in the living room.
The carrot is gone in an instant and he comes to sit at Bradley's feet by the stove, looking up at him from under his curly eyebrows clearly hoping he'll get another snack.
“Nah, bud. You’re barking up the wrong tree over here,” he says leaning down to scratch his floppy ears.
“Ah, come here, Duck,” you croon, calling him over to your side of the island. “He’s so mean for a man who claimed he just saw God not too long ago, isn’t he?”
Bradley snorts and shakes his head at you amused.
He still doesn’t know how he ended up with a dog named Duck.
At the dog park, more often than not people mistook it for ‘Buck’. And you were usually off to the side more than happy to let him take the lead, biting your lip to keep from laughing at his less than enthusiastic expression when he’d have to warily explain yet again It’s Duck like quack.
You’re not even subtle about the piece of cheese you pull from the charcuterie board to feed him.
“I saw that,” he says, giving you a pointed lift of his eyebrow, “You know Bob is going to be spoiling him all night.”
“It was just a little piece of cheese. Plus, I don’t know who you think you’re fooling. I saw you go over there and deliver him his own little veggie platter with some of the leftovers we had while I was making the apple cider sangria.”
“That’s different, that’s good for him,” he says rounding the island, reaching over and snagging his own slice of cheese to snack on.
“And cheese is a protein. He’s just a baby, Bradley, what am I supposed to do? Not give him a piece of swiss?” You slide off your chair to squat down and rub Duck’s belly, you’ve always been his favorite.
“He’s almost five,” he replies flatly.
“A youth!” you exclaim, “He’s a growing boy.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Bradley says affectionately with a little roll of his eyes. He knows a losing battle when he sees one.
He offers you his hand to help you stand back up, but you wave him off and pull yourself up using the edge of the island. You take a moment to readjust your dress before making your way to the sink by the big windows that look out into the backyard.
“Speaking of Bob, do you know if he’s bringing his fiancée?” you ask from over your shoulder as you wash your hands.
“Not this time, sweetheart. I guess she volunteered to cover a shift in the NICU when she heard they were short staffed.”
“Oh that’s too bad, I was excited to see her ring in person,” you say drying off your hands and heading to the pantry.
“It’s all he can talk about at work. I guess they’re thinking about a Spring wedding next year. They don’t want to wait too long to get married.”
“I’m so happy for them,” you say, digging around for a moment and then emerge with a stack of some sturdy plastic plates and set them on the last free spot on the countertop. “Don’t let me forget to make them up a couple plates that he can bring home for her, before Fanboy declares it time for ‘second dinner’ and eats all the yams like he did last year.”
“I won’t forget, promise,” he says fondly.
If you were facing him, he knows you’d probably tease him for the look on his face and just how gone he is for you.
You’ve always been so generous, it’s one of the things that he loves most about you.
You were always good about hustling him out of his well-earned money from is part time job scooping ice cream in high school, like with the fundraiser you did for the local soup kitchen and the one for the elementary school summer arts program.
He’s always been wrapped around your finger, it just took him awhile to realize why.
It’s the same reason why there’s been a donation that comes out of his bank account every month for the last five years for one of the San Diego animal shelters.
Bradley had made a rather sizable donation and then set up a smaller reoccurring monthly one after the chaos that was the time Bob had set you up with his friend who worked at the shelter, back before the two of you had gotten together.
Even after all these years, he still can’t help but get a little irritated every time he sees that guy’s face in the monthly newsletter that comes to his email. He’s pretty sure Casey still might have a little crush on you, but Bradley can’t blame him. He’d have a hard time getting over you too, so it’s a good thing he’ll never have to.
On newsletter day, Bradley always finds himself giving Duck extra treats.
You are his wife. And Duck is his dog. Ridiculous name and all.
He couldn’t wait to surprise you with the golden tennis ball that the shelter sends out as a thank you after a decade of donations.
Only five more years to go.
You’re over by the bar that’s been set up off to the side, straightening the already very straight rows of gleaming wine glasses when he hears you suck in a sharp gasp.
Bradley drops the dish cloth he had in his hands as he attempted to give what little counter space there was left a final wipe down and is in front of you in half a heartbeat. Was there a fluke with some faulty stemware? Are you bleeding? There’s a reason Thanksgiving is one of the busiest days at the hospital.
“The butter!” you cry out as you whirl around, your pretty eyes welling up with tears, “I let you fuck me and I forgot to pull the butter from the fridge. It’s going to be too hard for people to spread now!”
He knows it’s more than just hosting jitters that’s got you like this, but it still catches him by surprise sometimes.
“Woah, woah,” he says as he catches you on the way to the fridge and pulls you to his chest, “C’mere, my sweet girl.”
You make a distressed noise but allow him to keep his hold on you, “But the butter…”
“I already pulled the butter, see?” He points to the sticks that are already softening away on the counter. “Will you take a couple slow breaths for me, please? This place looks and smells amazing. We did good, baby.”
Bradley feels the moment your body relaxes into him.
He presses a kiss to the side of your temple as he smooths his hands down your soft, pretty green velvet dress and the warm, firm curve of your rounded stomach soothingly.
“Ugh, I’m sorry. It’s the hormones,” you sigh, as you lean your head back against his shoulder.
He hums empathically as he sways gently side to side with you in his arms.
“I would like to go on the record saying that I like pregnancy hormones, especially the ones from earlier,” he jokes lightly.
“That makes one of us,” you say with a watery laugh, “Just wait until I am waking you up at 4 AM because I am craving something from a drive-thru that’s not open.”
“Mm, can’t wait,” he murmurs before dropping a few kisses along the soft line of your jaw.
Bradley still can’t believe he gets to be this lucky in life.
He doesn’t want to forget a single moment of this. With you, with his family.
“We did a really good job with this one,” he whispers into your ear, still stroking your stomach, not wanted to disturb the magic in the domesticity.
“We really did, da--” Bradley groans and cuts you off with a kiss. He can feel the impish smile plastered on your lips as he kisses you. His favorite menace.
He knows you’re pretty sure it was the spontaneous hook up in the storage closet at the Hard Deck on the Fourth of July that’s responsible for the noticeable bump you’re sporting. Call him a romantic, but he likes to think it was that night in the Bronco overlooking the ocean when he’d taken the long way back home.
You pull away all too soon for his liking to grab his left hand. He sees the flash of the two diamonds on your engagement ring, one from his mom and one from yours, as you take it and press it to a spot near your bellybutton.
The feeling of the fluttering under his palm will never get old. He’s not too proud to say he’d shed a tear or two the first time he’d felt it.
Bradley lets himself bask in this moment as he two of you stand there in the kitchen of your dream house.
There are a few pops from the wood in the fireplace, the refrigerator is humming away in the background, and he can just hear the sounds of a melodic piano from the playlist he queued up earlier playing over the speaker.
Of all the delicious scents that waft through the house, the smell the floral and musk notes in you perfume is still his favorite.
There are times in the soft quiet of night, usually when you are asleep and his mind won’t quite settle, that he sometimes thinks he was put on this Earth to hold you.
It’s the only reason he can think of that explains why you fit so perfectly against his body.
Why his palms can fit so perfectly over your rounded stomach.
Why it’s his hands that you have trusted to protect your heart.
And he’s still holding you in the warmth of the kitchen when he hears the front door open.
Bradley knows he’s going to have to play host soon and he just wants to keep you in his arms for just a little longer.
“Hey kids, I brought the turkey,” Mav calls out from the entry.
You spin in his arms, looking at him wide eyed and confused as you two exchange a look. He presses one last kiss to your cheek before letting you go.
“Thought you were going to bring the rolls, Mav,” Bradley calls out just in time to see him round the corner.
Pete stands there proudly grinning holding a few bags of bakery rolls in one hand and a turkey in the other.
The sound of your delighted laughter makes his heart swell in his chest as he takes in the sight.
“Cooper Mitchell Ford Bradshaw, you are without a doubt the cutest turkey I have ever seen,” you gush as you go to greet Mav with a warm hug and a kiss on his cheek. Your son’s chubby arms reaching out for you.
Mav has dressed your almost two-year-old son in a soft, plush turkey costume that is complete with tailfeathers and a beak. He’s clearly a fan of the outfit too because he is grinning widely, showing of the more of the baby teeth that have come in over the last few months.
Mav had swung by early this morning to take him off your hands to get ready for Daggersgiving without chasing an almost-toddler around. While it was nice to have some time just the two of you while you got the place in order and took care of the last-minute things, like that homemade cranberry sauce, but he’d missed not having his son around.
The sweet sound of Cooper’s giggles and your coos fill up the kitchen as he watches you pepper his face with kisses. You bounce him a little and do a little spin, making the little boy laugh even more. The two of you in your own little bubble.
“You doin’ ok over there, kid?” Mav asks, a soft grin on his face as he sets the rolls on the counter to pull him in for a hug.
The two men had made their way back to each other over the last few years, just another thing that Bradley was grateful for in his life. The man had always been his father in everything but name. That is until he’d seen the man who raised him hold his son for the first time.
“Yeah, Dad,” Bradley says, clearing his throat a bit, “Everything’s perfect.”
From there it’s a flurry of activity as people start to arrive.
Nat comes with her longtime girlfriend and the extra bottles of the fancy Napa wine she promised to bring. Only handing it over once he promised to give her the name of the contractor the two of you had worked with and the exact shade of green that was used on the lower cabinets during your kitchen renovation.
Payback and Fanboy and their wives show up wearing oversized turkey hats on their heads each carrying a bakery box of pie.
Bradley isn’t surprised when Duck ditches the attention that Coyote was giving him the second Bob shows up with the famous Floyd family scalloped potatoes. Bob has always been a sucker for a pair of puppy dog eyes.
And in between checking on people’s glasses, swapping out empty appetizer trays for fuller ones, and making sure Jake doesn’t tamper with his perfectly cooked turkey, he’s got his eyes trained on you.
There are no words for the pride and love that washes over him every time he looks over and sees you with his son propped up on your hip and the way your pretty dress stretches around your growing family.
He had missed this stage of your pregnancy when he was deployed and you were pregnant with Cooper. He was determined to savor every second of this one. Every butter related freak out and every late-night milkshake run.
Being in his house surrounded with all the people he loves, minus a couple who are here in spirit, isn’t something he could ever take for granted. It’s more blessings than he ever hoped to receive in this lifetime.
You look over your shoulder at him and everything about the way you’re looking at him is picture perfect.
Your smile sunshine gold and just for him as you hold his gaze for a moment as time ticks on around the two of you. You send him a little wink before turning back to Mav who has his phone held up for a FaceTime call with Penny and Amelia.
Bradley sees his son peek his head up from where it had been nestled into your neck. Cooper grins when he sees him, his tiny hand reaching out for his dad. For him.
As he makes his way over to the two of you with his heart full, he makes a mental note to ask Mav later where he got that costume. He’s already planning on running out tomorrow to see if they have any more in stock now that it seems they have a new Bradshaw tradition on their hands.
He’s going to have three little turkeys running around this time next year and he couldn’t wait.
Cooper and him were going to be outnumbered soon.
The two of you had found out earlier in the month that Everly Caroline Bradshaw and Olivia Saylor Bradshaw were going to be the newest members to join your little family.
His girls.
It was an announcement the two of you were excited to share later tonight with everyone else when the slices of pies were being passed around.
He scoops up Cooper from you with one arm, dropping a kiss onto his little boy’s perfect curls as his small fist clutches as the soft fabric of his shirt. And then Bradley kisses the crown of your head as he wraps his other arm around you, his thumb stroking the swell of your belly.
With you- because of you- he gets to have it all.
The wife. The family. The house. The dog. The life. The dream.
He’s right where he wants to be.
He’s right where he’s supposed to be.
Happy Thanksgiving! This was such a joy to write, thank you for reading!
It might not be Carole Bradshaw's famous pie, but it's one of my favorites! And who better to share it with than you! Cranberry-Lime Pie
If you haven't read the 'Like I Can' series you can read it here!
You can read my other stories here!
Taglist:
@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @shanimallina87 @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader
#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw x female reader#bradley bradshaw x you#bradley bradshaw imagine#bradley bradshaw fanfiction#top gun fanfiction#top gun imagine#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw x you#bradley rooster bradshaw x female reader#bradley rooster bradshaw imagine#rooster x you#rooster x reader#rooster x female reader#rooster imagine#bradley rooster x reader#bradley rooster x you
801 notes
·
View notes
Text
to the left.
Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x f!reader
summary: fun little christmasy one-shot. rooster helps decorate
t/w: allusions of smut
“A little to the left,” you call from the mound of plush blankets on the couch.
Rooster’s shoulders slump momentarily in defeat before straightening the star on the tree.
You study the star, tilting your head to the left, then the right. “I think it needs to go back to the right.”
Rooster tilts it back the way he had it mere seconds ago. His fit arm is stretched to the top of the tree. A small sliver of his abs peek beneath the green henley he wears. The plaid pajama pants (that match yours) hang low on his hips.
“I don’t know, Roos. Back to the left”
At this, Roosted lets an exasperated sigh. His hand falls from the tree and lands on his hip, extinguishing that small sliver of skin. He shoots you a look.
“I’m beginning to think you’re pulling my leg.”
You shake your head vigorously, widening your eyes in feign innocence. You point to the tree. “To the left!”
Rooster starts on you, abandoning the tree. He hovers over you, placing all hand on either side of you. The back of the couch holds his weight off you, but you want nothing more than to have him drape himself over you.
“This left?” he asks, placing a kiss under your left ear. Butterflies fill your stomach as he brings his brown eyes to yours. You audibly gulp, causing one of his brows to arch.
“Or was it the right?” he murmurs, kissing under you right ear.
He smiles into your neck, right against your racing pulse. “I can’t believe I do that to you.”
“Oh, please,” you scoff, your voice coming about breathless.
You slip your hands around his neck, and into his hair. You trail a line of kisses up his neck and along his jaw. His breath hitches in the back of his throat, and suddenly, you know exactly what he means.
Knowing you have the same effect on Rooster that he does you thrills you in more ways than one.
“C’mere,” he murmurs in your ear, pulling you from the couch. Once he has you on your feet, his arms wrap tightly around your waist. Tugging you flush against his body, he leans down and takes your lips in his. Every part of you flairs to life. As his hands slide from your waist to your hips, you can’t help but feel just what you do to him.
Rooster’s hands slide around your ass, hoisting you up, your legs wrapping around his waist.
“Can the tree wait?” he whispers against your jaw, walking the two of you back to your room.
a/n: i’m bbbbaaaacccckkk
#top gun maverick#top gun#top gun maverick fic#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw x y/n#rooster x reader#rooster fluff#rooster imagine#rooster bradshaw fic#bradley bradshaw fic#bradley bradshaw fanfiction#bradley bradshaw imagine#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradleybradshaw#bradley x reader#rooster#rooster x oc#rooster fanfic
646 notes
·
View notes
Text
Heartbreaks & Happy Birthdays
Happy sleepover Saturday y’all, I thought I’d kick it off with a miracle, yes you are seeing this right I wrote a fic for Bradley! @roosterforme I know you are somewhere victory dancing 😂. Hope you guys enjoy it!
Pairing- Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x reader
Warnings- drinking, allusions to smut, language, angst.
Summary- you throw Bradley a birthday party and it ends in disaster, can you move past it or is it time to let him go?
It had started out as such a good weekend, for the life of him he couldn’t figure out when it went wrong.
Bradley had turned 37 on Thursday and you’d agreed to spend the weekend with him, getting off of work early Thursday to cook his favorite dinner (a recipe of Carole’s you’d found in storage) and treating him to a fancy new lingerie set that had been an absolute hit, you even let him take some pictures and videos for his next deployment which he couldn’t wait to watch over and over again on nights when he couldn’t hold you close. You were his sweet quiet girl and although the two of you couldn’t be more different it just made sense when you were together, he brought out a side of you that no one else could, he was a live wire, his bright smile and infectious energy captivated everyone who interacted with him but when he was with you? It was like puzzle pieces snapping in to place, a perfect mix of yin and yang that just fit seamlessly.
You and a few members of his squad had been planning him a surprise party for weeks, you’d mostly let Phoenix handle all the invites and had thrown yourself into decorating and finding a caterer, even Jake had helped by asking one of his buddies to dj for the night, the country club the boys played golf at had graciously let you rent the conference room and it was sure to be an evening to remember.
Friday night came and you had convinced him that he was just going out for dinner at the restaurant in the clubhouse with a few of his friends, dressed in a floral button down with some black slacks he looked like he’d stepped right out of a magazine, you were having trouble keeping your thoughts together as he pulled into the lot in his shiny blue bronco, swollen biceps stretching the soft material from all the pushups he’d been doing lately. You hadn’t even realized he’d been talking to you until he stroked your cheek, eyebrow cocked and a knowing smile on his face, of course he could see right through you, he knew you’d been checking him out. “Oh Bradley I’m so sorry, I don’t know where my head was, what did you say?” He chuckled as he unbuckled you and pulled you across the bench seat by your waist, rucking up the sides of your sundress as you went, using his massive left hand to curl around your jaw and the back of your neck as he kissed you breathless, running the other hand up your back and shoulder as he ran his tongue along your lips and you opened for him with a breathy moan, tongues tangled together and reducing you to a puddle. He pulled away much sooner than you would have liked, causing a whine to tear from your throat as you chased his lips. “I know it, I’m gonna take my time with you later sweetness but you did all this planning for dinner so let’s go eat and then I can have my dessert.”
When you made a sharp turn towards the conference room he scrunched his eyebrows in confusion, but quickly realized what you were up to as the doors were thrown open to everyone yelling surprise at him. He’d never had a surprise party, hell he hadn’t had a birthday party since he was a kid, he couldn’t believe that everyone had pulled this together under his nose, the boys quickly drug him away for a drink and you and Phoenix just laughed at how excited he looked. It looked like just about everyone Bradley worked with was here, including quite a few people you’d never seen before, but it was expected really; your boyfriend never seemed to meet a stranger and that much was evident by the wall to wall crowd dancing the night away. Somehow he’d pulled you into the middle of the dance floor, twirling you around the floor and kissing you breathless amongst the sweaty bodies and flashing lights, it should have been overwhelming but he always seemed to make you feel comfortable in the most vulnerable situations.
You finally excused yourself and headed for the rest room, you were sure you looked a mess and as you checked yourself over in the mirror you were definitely right. Kiss swollen lips and smudged lipstick, hair all in disarray and you giggled to yourself at the thought of what was to come later that night. As you stepped into the stall you heard a group coming in behind you, no doubt doing the same as you but when you heard them talking you realized they were gossiping about you. “I really don’t get it, she’s a librarian or something right? Could she be any more boring looking?” One said to the other and you could hear her friend agreeing, “I mean at least when you guys were hooking up it made sense, you both have so much in common, I’m sure he’ll get bored eventually Lisa don’t even worry about it, she can’t honestly think they’re going to last.”
You were so humiliated, had you really come off as plain and uninteresting? Was Bradley bored of you? You thought things were going so well and yes you had honestly been thinking about what a future with him might hold, it had only been six months but you’d never felt so loved by anyone. Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes as you waited for them to leave, finally it got quiet and the booming music filtered through the room as someone opened the door, unlocking the stall you made your way out of the door only to realize the girl who had apparently hooked up with your boyfriend was still preening over herself in the mirror. You swiped your eyes with a tissue as you felt your skin flush and prickle, knowing her eyes were on you. She capped her lipstick and fussed with her hair, giving you a once over as she stepped towards the door. “No offense sweet pea, you seem nice but what Bradley needs is someone wild; a big personality to match his and you just aren’t that. You won’t be enough, he needs more than just a quiet wallflower to keep his attention, I’d enjoy it while it lasts if I were you.”
It felt like you’d been slapped, you couldn’t even bring yourself to respond as more tears came, you needed to get out of here; the room was spinning and you couldn’t get a deep breath, you stumbled out into the crowded space only to see that same girl with her hand on Bradley’s arm, you didn’t stick around to see anything else, your heart couldn’t bear it. Opening the ride share app you typed in your address and thanked the stars that there was only a two minute wait, typing out a half ass apology about feeling sick to Bradley and Natasha as you cried all the way home.
By the time Bradley got your message you were long gone, he had been wandering around looking for you but no one seemed to know where you’d been. He stepped outside and called you immediately but it went to voicemail, trying again with the same result. He messaged you ask if you needed him to come to you, but you replied that he should enjoy the party and that you needed to sleep, and as torn as he was he trusted that everything was ok, promising to bring you breakfast in the morning and spend the day with you. You’d cried until you couldn’t anymore and then had the worst sleep you’d had in ages, waking up to a pounding headache and knocking at your door. It was nearly 10 am, you weren’t the sleeping in type and when you checked your phone you had a litany of missed calls and texts. You groaned as you trudged down the hall to your door, not bothering to see who it was before you opened it, only to be met with the honey brown eyes of your ridiculously handsome boyfriend, coffee and a donut from your favorite shop in hand as he looked you over. “Oh baby you look like you feel awful, come on let’s get you back in bed, dr. Bradshaw has exactly what you need.” He’d said with a wink, he was acting as though everything was normal but you couldn’t bring yourself to reciprocate, just shrugging lightly and letting him usher you back to bed.
You’d let him in and settled into bed with him as he turned on a movie, but your smile wasn’t meeting your eyes and he could barely get a word out of you. He was really starting to worry that he’d done something wrong, but no matter how he wracked his brain he was coming up with nothing.
He’d told you once that when you smiled at him it was like you held all the answers in the universe in that one look, like you could solve any problem with a kiss and make everything ok. He wanted to be that for you, but for the life of him he couldn’t figure out what was wrong. You’d all but turned away from him in bed and fallen asleep halfway through the movie, leaving him even more confused than before, you’d planned him an elaborate party and now you wanted nothing to do with him? What the hell was going on?
When you woke a few hours later you felt more yourself, but turning over in bed to find it empty sent worry through you all over again. “Bradley?” You called as you came down the hall, hearing the drone of the tv you sighed in relief as you found him texting on his phone while some basketball game played in the background. He gave you a small smile and held his arms out for you, but you hesitated; and he noticed. “Ok, you gotta talk to me baby I’m completely lost here, what is going on with you? We were aces yesterday and now you don’t want to touch me, I can’t fix it if I don’t know why it’s broken honey, you gotta give me something.” Your eyes welled up with tears again as you plopped down on the couch, if Bradley had been confused he was even more so now. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I know I probably ruined everything. I know I’m not the prettiest or the most fun to hang out with but I want so badly to be enough for you and I’m worried that you’ll get tired of me.” You couldn’t meet his gaze, and he was looking at you like you’d grown a third eye, his handsome features scrunched up in confusion as he tried to process what you meant. “Baby have I been making you feel like that? Shit if I have I’m so sorry-“
“Wha-no! You haven’t at all, it’s just there was this girl last night at the party, she said you guys had dated and that I wasn’t your type, and then I saw you talking with her at the party and I just- I couldn’t stand it. Thinking that I was holding you back from being who you are, I never want to be that to you.” You were staring very intently at your hands when you saw his come in to view and wrap them around you, pulling you to face him. “That girl that you’re talking about, was it Lisa?” You nodded and he rolled his eyes and clenched his jaw so hard it looked like he might snap it. “Honey I never dated her, we had a drunken hookup one time and I told her she wasn’t my type, I don’t know what the hell she said to you but she’s dead wrong. You’re everything to me, and if you’d waited around long enough last night you would’ve seen the surprise I had planned for you.”
Now it was your turn to look confused, why would he have planned something for you on his birthday? But as you looked up at him he knelt on the floor, producing a small box from his pocket. “I mean it sweet girl, you’re everything I want and I had planned on asking you this last night but you vaporized before I got the chance. I don’t need some wild free spirit, I need someone to keep me on solid ground, someone who loves me for who I really am and not the persona I have to put out to everyone around me. I want quiet nights and dancing in the kitchen and maybe one day a house full of little ones but I want it with you. So if you still want that, will you be my wife?” He was crying now too, this perfect man was everything you’d ever dreamed of and you’d nearly let something so trivial take it from you. You didn’t have to think of an answer, surging forward into his arms as you both toppled to the floor, laughing and kissing as he placed his mother’s engagement ring on your finger. All he needed was right here, warmth and love and happiness, he couldn’t think of a better birthday present than you.
Tagging🏷️- @attapullman @mamachasesmayhem @sailor-aviator @bobgasm @bradshawssugarbaby @sebsxphia @roosterforme @sarahsmi13s @hangmansgbaby @goldenseresinretriever @mynameismckenziemae
#top gun maverick#top gun maverick fanfiction#bradley bradshaw#bradley rooster x y/n#bradley rooster x reader#bradley bradshaw x you#bradley bradshaw fanfiction#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw imagine#rooster x you#top gun rooster#rooster x reader#rooster top gun#rooster bradshaw fic#sorchathered’s 300 follower celebration#300 follower sleepover
211 notes
·
View notes
Text
Blondie Fancy-Pants
Jake Seresin x reader
6k words
summary: You meet Jake at the Hard Deck for the very first time. Or maybe not the very first time after all. But who says first impressions can’t be disproven?
allusions to smut, as always
top gun masterlist
This Friday evening was no different than any other Friday evening. At least nothing had been different up until now.
The bar was crowded but not overcrowded, loud but not too loud, full but not too full of navy officers. Penny was busy behind the bar and your best friend - who was supposed to be helping her out - was standing opposite you, downing her second shot of the night. Penny didn’t mind. Usually she would even join you for one, later on, but still. Your friend was a good waitress, especially good with the people here, and she did good work. She was always tipsy, yes, but if anything, that made her an even better barmaid.
“You see that guy at the dart board?”
You turned on your little stool, a hand wrapped tightly around your shot glass, as you tried to make out just who she was pointing at. It took you a few seconds. Two guys were standing there, throwing darts effortlessly back and forth, undoubtedly military, undoubtedly navy. Heck, still in their goddamn uniforms. You fought the urge to roll your eyes.
“Which one? Blondie fancy-pants or Hawaiian shirt?”
She leaned closer to you as if to let you in on some big secret, eyes transfixed on the navy guys.
“Hawaiian shirt”, she said and you did roll your eyes then. You knew that look. She’d found her victim of the night. “His name’s Rooster. He’s a real sweetheart. Told me I looked stunning when he ordered his friends a few beers.”
“His callsign is Rooster”, you corrected. “God, if his name was Rooster I’d be sorry for him.”
She chuckled and left you for a moment to tend to a patron while Penny was busy. It gave you the time to check out these two navy guys.
Okay, so they were attractive, at least from where you were sitting. Broad shoulders, nice arms - you were sure they were ripped, but then again, the whole navy was. If they would just turn so that you could actually see their faces... After all, you wouldn’t let your friend hook up with just anyone.
One of them - the blond one, fancy-pants - took a sip of his beer at one point, at least offering up his sideprofile (which, to your dismay, looked just as good as the rest of him). You sighed and turned to the bar when your friend was done and slid back up to you, two cocktail glasses in her hands.
This was one of the advantages of knowing the barmaid: free drinks. You could spend every evening here, drinking and drinking and drinking until you blacked out without paying a penny.
“So?”, she grinned, nodding in the general direction of the dartboard. “What do you think?”
You took a sip of your cocktail.
“Hawaiian shirt is different, I’d say”, you shrugged. “Whether that’s good or bad will be up to you to say tomorrow morning.”
She rolled her eyes as you grinned - you felt that you were allowed to tease her at least a little. She’d had her fair share of fun with navy guys, alright. You deserved your fair share of teasing her for it. Especially because you knew that unless Hawaiian shirt was gay, they would absolutely be leaving together once her shift was over.
“Shut up”, she laughed, resting her chin in the palm of her hand as she watched him. You turned back as well, your fingertips skimming over the rim of your glass. Okay, so maybe they were quite easy on the eyes. Sadly you doubted that they’d be as easy listening to. Usually that was the way it went with the navy men here.
“He’s...” She bit her lip, pondering what to say. “Cute. Don’t get me wrong, he’s hot as hell, but he’s real cute too. I mean, have you seen that little dance when he makes a good throw?”
You let out a laugh, shaking your head even though you knew she was too transfixed to see that.
“He dances?”
“He shimmies”, she corrected, and you glanced at her to spot her smirk.
“Ah”, you said, hiding a grin of your own as you turned back. “And his friend?”
Blondie fancy-pants was winning, it seemed, and he was being real smug about it too. He had his sunglasses hooked into the collar of his uniform (which, even though you hated to say it, looked really good on him) and he was gripping the neck of his bottle of beer in a way that really shouldn’t have annoyed you as much as it did.
You could feel your friend’s eyes burning into the back of your head and with a sigh, you shifted to face her. You already knew what she was going to say, especially with that grin on her lips, almost sadistic. You should’ve just kept your mouth shut.
“You like a navy guy!”, she screeched, pulling back from the bar top to point her hand at you dramatically and jump up and down. “This hasn’t happened in...”
She narrowed her eyes and pretended to count on her fingers.
“Two and a half years!”
You huffed.
“I just don’t like their menality. Most of them are pretty faces with no thoughts inside their head. Sorry that I like to be intellectually challenged at least a little.”
“That sounds like a dig at me personally.”
You snorted and took a sip of your drink.
“Honestly I admire you for being able to just ignore everything about a guy except for his appearance. Would certainly help me at times.”
“Well”, she grinned. “Blondie fancy-pants can count himself lucky, hm?”
You chuckled and shook your head, risking a glance at the dartboard again. A woman had joined them, also in uniform, also with a beer bottle in her hand, a grin playing on her lips, and you got the distinct impression that she was looking over Hawaiian shirt’s shoulder straight at you. But that couldn’t be.
“You know her?”, you asked your friend over your shoulder. She shrugged.
“Nope. Don’t know any of them to be honest. Their whole group must be new.”
You watched as the woman’s grin widened, as she raised her beer and pointed it right at the bar. Both of the navy guys turned around and before you could react, Blondie fancy-pants was looking at you. You almost fell off of your chair.
Instead you pulled yourself together and wheeled around, grabbing your glass until your knuckles turned white and staring wide-eyed at your friend behind the bar. She - much unlike you - had not panicked and turned, but instead was still staring, her grin replaced by a coy smile, tilting her head to the side and giving them a little wave.
“What the fuck are you doing?”, you hissed.
She looked at you like you were insane.
“Not being absolutely socially inept like you?”
You huffed and brought your glass up to your lips instead of answering, gulping down the rest of your cocktail in one to help calm your nerves. Okay, so Blondie fancy-pants not only looked outrageously attractive, but had also most definitely caught you staring at him. This might just be the most embarrassing thing to happen to you ever since that time you’d landed face-first in your mashed potatoes in eighth grade. You wondered if you’d gone just as red right now.
“They’re coming over.”
Your head snapped up like someone had pulled on it.
“They’re what?”
“They’re coming over right now”, she repeated, a grin tugging at her lips again.
“Both of them?”, you asked, panic surging through you. Oh, god, your friend was right, it had been too long, way too long since you’d done something like this. Swiping on an app, sure, texting a bit, sure, but just chatting up some random navy officer at a bar? No, thank you.
“Both of them.”
She’d hardly spoken the words when they were sliding up next to you, one on your right and one on your left, close but not close enough to make you feel caged in, which was a miracle in itself. Your friend grabbed your empty glass and you pried your fingers away despite not wanting to let go. It was the one thing keeping you grounded and she was taking it away from you just like that.
“We couldn’t help but notice”, Blondie fancy-pants said, and you realised there was a Southern drawl to his voice (which didn’t make him any less attractive whatsoever and you hated that), “You two lovely ladies watching me win at darts.”
You took one deep breath and looked up at him - and in hindsight you just should’ve kept staring at the bar top because shit, he had stunning green eyes, and they were already boring into yours.
“Don’t flatter yourself”, Hawaiian shirt snorted, and you turned your head to him only to see him smiling at your friend. She was clutching the glasses in her hand, halfway down the bar to put them away and serve some other patrons. You knew the expression on her face. Hawaiian shirt had a target on his back and he didn’t even know it - not yet. “It was a close call, Bagman.”
You turned back to Blondie fancy-pants and suddenly felt sorry for your neck.
“Bagman?”, you repeated with a laugh, surprised that your voice came out quite steadily. “Well I’ve heard a lot of callsigns in my life, but Bagman may just be at the top of the ‘dumbest I’ve heard yet’ list.”
He narrowed his eyes as if he was hurt, but that grin was still apparent enough on his lips that you knew he wasn’t. Interesting. Most navy guys were screaming bloody murder the second anyone dared to insult their callsign.
“Well actually”, he chuckled, leaning in a bit closer (and you’d deny this to anyone who asked but your breath hitched in your throat like you were a teenage girl again and you glanced down at his lips for just a split second, horribly inviting like the rest of him and his goddamn charm). “It’s Hangman.”
You raised your eyebrows. Hangman. Hangman, Hangman, Hangman... You’d heard that somewhere. You knew that callsign. Somehow, you knew that. You just couldn’t remember where you got it from.
“Hangman”, you repeated, slowly, swirling the word around on your tongue for a moment. Sounded kind of nice, that word laced with your own tone, your own voice... And then it hit you and you gasped almost comically, pulling back, sitting up straight, fingers tightening around the edge of the bar top.
“Shit, I know you! You’re the asshole from that fundraising event I organised for the navy! The one who was ‘too busy’ to talk to ‘some chick from marketing’.”
“Wait.” Your friend was sliding back up to you, four bottles of beer in her hands that she set down on the bar just a little too firmly. “Blondie fancy-pants is Mr. Better-than-you?”
You didn’t know whether to cringe or grin and just ended up laughing, grabbing for your beer and taking a sip as you nodded, her expression stuck somewhere between shock and amusement.
“I don’t know what I should find funnier - Blondie fancy-pants or Mr. Better-than-you”, the other navy guy chuckled, also grabbing a bottle but unlike you getting out his wallet - to pay for it? Your friend put her hand on the back of his in one swift motion, holding it down on the bar top as she smiled up at him.
“On the house”, she winked, pulling back to place a bottle in front of Hangman, as you’d learned, as well. Hawaiian shirt thanked her with a chuckle, pocketing his wallet again and grinning at her, and you had the distinct impression that he’d forgotten what he’d said about his friend or that he was part of any conversation at all anymore.
“Blondie fancy-pants?”, Hangman asked, the corners of his lips tugging upwards even as he frowned. It sounded wrong coming from him, like he’d never been meant to say anything like it, the slight accent and the tone all messed up and you had to laugh again, realising that perhaps this was the icebreaker you’d needed.
Usually, you would’ve been a little more resentful. That fundraising event had, after all, taken a lot of planning - he’d been supposed to give a speech, but he’d only been fluttering about the room and after you’d unsuccessfully tried to talk to him for the third time, he’d basically told you to fuck off without even looking at you twice and you’d had enough of him, so you’d gone over his head to talk to his superiors and had allowed yourself just a small condescending smirk as you’d seen his face fall, imagining the punishment he’d surely get the next day.
But you already had enough alcohol in your bloodstream to make it seem just a little funnier and make you a little less mad and anyway, he’d been the subject of one too many jokes about navy guys on girl’s nights out, so whatever.
“In my defense”, you grinned, holding up your hands. “I didn’t know your names - come to think of it, I still don’t - and well, you’re blond, and he” - you pointed at his friend, “he’s wearing that shirt.”
“Oh, he’s got a nickname as well?”
“Hawaiian shirt. Because, you know. He’s wearing a Hawaiian shirt.”
You shrugged with a grin planted firmly on your face, watching as he raised his eyebrows and put the bottle to his lips.
“Very creative”, he chuckled.
“I did my best!”, you argued, pushing him away from you by the shoulder and pouting, turning to his friend instead. “Is he always like that?”
“Most of the time.”
You examined him for a moment. He was tall, a little taller than Blondie fancy-pants and yeah, you could see where your friend was coming from. Sadly, you seemed to have a taste for guys much too full of themselves who had already disappointed you once before.
“Rooster, right?”, you asked, and he gave you a small smile as he nodded. You broke out into a grin again. “I don’t want to ask, do I?”
Your friend let out a laugh and you turned to look at her, raising your eyebrows, already guessing what rabbit hole her thoughts were going down right now.
“Even if it’s not what I’m thinking, I don’t want to know the truth”, she laughed, backing away to serve another patron. “It’s nice to picture.”
She winked at him again and you gagged, turning back to Blondie fancy-pants instead. You did not whatsoever feel the need to be stuck in the middle of that flirt. Hangman was sipping his beer with a grin on his lips that you couldn’t quite place. He was still looking at you - you didn’t know if he’d ever looked away from you. Before you could get too nervous because of that, you swallowed and glanced down at the bottle in his hands (another mistake because that had your imagination running in circles).
“How ‘bout you, Bagman?”, you asked, your voice just a little breathless around the edges, which you prayed wasn’t noticeable. “What’s the story behind your callsign?”
For a second, his jaw clenched, but then he was grinning again and leaning closer to you and you brushed it off as some illusion of the light or your tipsy mind playing a joke on you. You couldn’t help but grin right back. There was something infuriatingly intriguing about him, and you guessed that exactly that was his charm - the fact that even though he was so obviously smug, much too confident, much too full of himself, he was still so very charismatic, so infatuating. With his eyes focused just on you, the attentive way he flirted, his accent... and, sure, his appearance certainly didn’t make him any less attractive. Actually that was probably the main reason he was attractive in the first place and the rest was just additional charm.
“That would be a story for a second date, darlin’“, he chuckled.
You swallowed. You could feel your skin growing hot. It may have been the pet name or maybe the mention of a second date, but either way you had to look away from him.
“So this is a first date?”, you asked. “Because that would sure be a terrible first date.”
“Darling”, he said, in a tone that was definitely not normal. He leaned against the bar top, arm resting on the wood, the bottle between his fingers dangling just before the edge and you could feel his eyes boring into the side of your head. He paused, waiting, you realised, for you to react. You bit into your bottom lip as you followed his wish and looked up, pushing the hair from your face and meeting his eyes, if a little carefully.
“This sure ain’t a first date. I know how to treat a lady.”
You couldn’t stop your mind from wandering off at his words once again today. He’d probably intended that. No, he’d definitely intended that.
“You say that now”, you chuckled, emptying your beer and putting it down. “Just wait until you’re too busy for me again.”
“You can’t hold that against me forever. I’m sure it was a very stressful night for the both of us.”
“You’re sure?”, you gasped. “You don’t even remember what I’m talking about?”
He grimaced as if caught - which you kind of had done to be honest - at least pretending to feel guilty. You huffed. Well, he was just ups and downs, wasn’t he? You didn’t know what to do with him. All you knew was that you were feeling impossibly attracted to him and you couldn’t explain why.
“Let me make it up to you”, he smiled, putting his bottle down as well and offering you a hand. You glanced at it and then up at him and then back down at it again.
“Sorry?”
“I said-” He leaned in closer, so close that you could smell his aftershave - woodsy somehow and just as intriguing as the rest of him. “Let me make it up to you.”
You swallowed, hesitating as you slowly placed your hand in his, fingers intertwining - his skin was warm and soft and sent a wave of electricity through you that made your breath hitch in your throat.
“What?”, you croaxed, trying to grin at him without losing your mind. “You’re just gonna take me home now?”
He pulled you towards him, off of your chair, and you were tipsy enough to stumble a bit, your hand coming up to steady yourself, bracing against his chest. Well, here came the next mistake of the night: being so close to him, because you didn’t think you would ever be able to recover from that.
“I thought we’d start with a dance”, he chuckled. You were sure your eyes were blown wide as you looked at him (the urge to pull him in and kiss him grew with each passing second and you weren’t a fan of that).
“Oh”, you let out, and maybe you should’ve cringed at yourself, but you were way past that point already. He just kept grinning down at you.
“I mean, I won’t say no to a pretty lady like you”, he drawled. “But you’ve had a few drinks and I won’t take advantage of that.”
So he was sweet as well, wonderful. You just rolled your eyes.
“I’ve drunk a bit, sure”, you said, almost dismissively. “But not enough to do anything I don’t want to. Besides, I thought we were going dancing?”
“We are.”
His laugh was infectious, warmth spreading through your body and you didn’t know if it was at the sound or the feeling of him so close to you, of the grip he had on your hand as he led you onto the dancefloor, of the hold on your waist and the way his hair felt when you crossed your arms behind his neck and brushed your fingers through it, of the way he smiled - almost... no, was that sweet? You were sure the alcohol was affecting you a little more than usual after all because a navy guy like him certainly didn’t smile anything close to sweetly.
“You look gorgeous by the way”, he muttered, dipping his head down low so that his lips were just short of grazing the shell of your ear, his breath making you shiver.
“Thanks”, you whispered, perhaps a little too breathless and a little too obvious if his answering chuckle was any indication. You were way too flustered already. He’d barely done anything yet somehow, you were putty in his hands. You’d known this man for the better part of fifteen minutes maybe and were prepared to cut the night short and leave with him. What the fuck had he done to you? This had never happened before. And you weren’t particularly comfortable with it happening now.
But he smelled just a little too good, looked just a little too perfect, spoke just a bit too charmingly and held you just a little too close for you to do anything but melt into him and let him take the lead, to do anything but go with the flow, follow him.
“You haven’t told me your name yet”, he said, a grin on his lips that you could hear. Your arms tightened around his neck.
“I haven’t?”, you asked, fighting the urge to let your eyes fall shut and pull him closer. His touch, his scent were making it hard, way too hard.
“No”, he chuckled. “You haven’t.”
You couldn’t help but smile. For what may have been the first time this whole evening, you had the whip hand.
“Gee”, you drawled, hardly able to keep from grinning when he leaned back a bit to be able to look at you, eyebrows raised. “What a coincidence, Hangman. It’s almost like names are real important to you, hm?”
His laugh reverberated in your chest with how close you stood.
“You don’t have the best impression of me, do you, darling?”
“Well”, you shrugged, meeting his eye and seeing the same twinkle in them that you were sure he could see in yours. “You’ve done a way better job tonight than you did at that fundraiser.”
His expression softened and before you could react, he pulled you close - so close that your nose bumped into the fabric of his collar, your cheek squashed against his uniform, a small oomph falling from your lips. His face nestled into your hair, the side of your head. You stiffened for a second, but the moment you breathed in his scent you relaxed again. Even if you couldn’t tell why, his presence was soothing - you weren’t opposed to falling asleep in his arms, right here right now.
“You won’t let that go, will you?”, he asked, his voice low, sending a shiver down your spine. Involuntarily, your fingers tangled in his hair, messing up at least some of that perfect appearance that he was so smug about (and should be, if you were honest).
“No, I will”, you whispered. “If you prove it’s worth it.”
He was quiet for a while, just swaying you to the beat, and your eyes fell close at some point as you snuggled into him, listening to his heart beating in his chest and the feeling of his hands on your waist, of his face pressed into your hair, of the sound of his breath.
“Jake”, he murmured eventually and you blinked, needing a second to adjust to the light of the bar again.
“What?”, you mumbled. You felt his smile against your ear this time.
“Jake”, he repeated. “My name’s Jake.”
“Jake... Jake.” You rolled it around on your tongue. It was a pretty name, somehow fit him, and then again it seemed much too casual. Much too average. “I like that.”
“You won’t tell me yours?”
“I don’t know”, you grinned, propping your chin up on his shoulder. “Maybe I’ll let you work for it.”
He laughed, low and genuine, and this time you really felt it, like little electroshocks travelling through your bloodstream, your nerves on fire, your skin burning hot. God, this man had a chokehold on you. Usually by now you would have been spiralling, overthinking to a point that hurt, but somehow... You weren’t. And you were pretty sure that was on Jake. Jake.
“Work for it, hm?”, he chuckled. “What would that look like?”
You shrugged.
“Do I get time to think about it?”
“As much as you need, sweetheart.”
He leaned back and you let him go with a bit of a pout, the cold air of the bar lonely and disappointing compared to where he’d been holding you pressed against him a moment ago. His expression was nothing short of smug again as he looked down at you, the corners of his mouth tugging upwards. You had to fight the urge to roll your eyes, even with your skin burning up.
He pulled his hands from your waist (again you totally didn’t feel disappointed for half a second) and grabbed your hands from his neck, raising your right up above your head - to twirl you, you realised, a grin spreading on your face again as you twirled for him, once, twice, thrice, laughter bubbling up and the music suddenly louder again before you fell back into his chest, bracing yourself with both your hands, dragging his right hand with you as well, your forehead falling onto his shoulder as giggles escaped you.
You didn’t know why or how, but this man was a dream - your dream maybe, if only for today. You trusted him, him and his goddamn charm, him and his stupid grins, him and his pretty fucking service khakis.
A navy guy.
A fucking navy guy.
You were falling for a navy guy in the middle of the dancefloor, in the middle of a bar, and you couldn’t even find it in yourself to be ashamed of that - or of the fact that this navy guy also just so happened to be Mr. Better-than-you. Or of the fact that you still hadn’t told him your name.
Which you should probably do.
“Jake”, you said, pulling back a bit to blink up at him, lips parting in mild surprise when you realised he’d already been looking at you. You stared up at him for quite a few embarrassing seconds - you had wanted to finally tell him your name, not ogle him for half an hour. But you just couldn’t help yourself. Especially not when he pulled his hand from yours, when instead he cupped your jaw and brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, when the light hit his eyes in such a stupidly romantic way that the green shone like fucking emeralds. God.
“Can I?”, he muttered, his thumbs grazing your cheek.
You didn’t trust yourself enough to actually say anything, not with how tight your throat felt, with how hard it was to keep looking at him. So you simply nodded.
You caught his grin just before he leaned in. Then his lips were on yours and you were in heaven.
He was firm but still gentle, decisive but not forceful, careful but not hesitant, attentive but not passive. Shit, what you were saying was that this man was a fucking marvelous kisser. You wouldn’t have minded one bit to keep kissing him for all of eternity, not in the slightest. Not with the soft movement of his lips, his tongue, of his hands on your jaw and yours hooking into the collar of his uniform. If you were to die now, you would do so happily.
He pulled back only to breathe, to tilt his head to the other side and to kiss you again, more deeply than before, which in itself you’d thought impossible, once, twice, so long that you lost count and didn’t care, didn’t care about much anything but the feeling of him.
Almost accidentally, your name fell from your lips.
You couldn’t say much more than that, not with the urgency he was kissing you with, not with how he knocked your breath out of you when he smiled into the kiss - though smiled almost didn’t capture it. Grinned, smirked, that was more like it. Satisfied with himself, once more, that he had managed to coax your name from you after all.
And, this time, he could be. He should be.
Yes, he was that good and you wouldn’t deny it, at least not to yourself. To him, well, maybe, once you finally had enough breath in your lungs again to talk - though it didn’t seem like that would happen soon. No, Jake tugged you closer to him, let his hands fall down, down to your hips, leaving blazing fire wherever he touched you, his fingers digging into the fabric of your dress, sure to leave bruises on the skin underneath. You wondered if he’d get to see them tonight. Maybe he would. Honestly, at this point he probably would.
When his lips landed not on yours, but on your jaw, on your throat, your neck... Your fingers loosened on his collar and you whimpered, arching into him as he found your sweet spot instantly, chuckling against your skin at your reaction.
“Well that’s a pretty name for a pretty lady”, he murmured, his voice just as smooth and cool as before and for some reason, it irked you that he seemed unaffected. Unaffected by all of this, this kiss, this closeness. So much unlike you. You were melting into a puddle of human limbs in his arms, only held up by him, sure to fall and plant yourself face-first onto the floor if he were to let go of you.
“Jake”, you mewled, hardly more than a breath, your hands sneaking up to his hair, tugging at the strands and you didn’t know whether you were tugging him away or pulling him closer into you, but still he understood. He let out a laugh, one that you could feel down to your very bones.
“You sound so pretty saying my name too, honey”, he muttered.
You scratched at his scalp, letting your head fall back a little to give him more access to your neck - he wasn’t leaving hickeys, at least you didn’t think so, but honestly at this point you wouldn’t have minded.
Shit, you wouldn’t have minded if a navy guy who had once before completely neglected your existence was leaving hickeys on your neck in the middle of the dancefloor at the bar your friend was working at.
“Jake”, you repeated, almost a prayer at this point. “Jake-”
And you didn’t know if you were going to say “Let’s get out of here” or “We can’t do this here” or “Please kiss me again” because he’d just pretty much turned your mind off with a few kisses. You were worried what else he might do.
He understood. Again.
“I call an Uber, you tell your friend we’re leaving”, he said, pulling back to look at you with raised eyebrows. You felt yourself swallow at his blown irises. Shit. Maybe he was good enough to hide how affected he was when he was talking, but even he couldn’t hide his own bodily reactions. Now this made your chest swell with pride - yes, suddenly you could understand why he was so very smug.
And even though it hadn’t been a question, you knew that it was. He was waiting for you to say something, to react, and because you did not whatsoever think you could speak right now - or ever again for that matter - you just nodded.
He let go of you with a grin, slowly, carefully, steadying you until he was sure you could stand on your own (if shakily) and the first thing you did as you watched him walk away and pull his phone from his pocket was breathe. Actually take a deep breath, in and out. The air here was stuffy and warm and your face was burning up and suddenly you felt very exposed after all, so you turned as quickly as you could and marched off the dancefloor with your eyes glued to the ground.
The first time you looked up again, you’d nearly run into the bar top. Your friend was immediately sliding up opposite you, leaving behind Rooster, who looked rather amused, with her eyebrows disappearing into her hairline and her palms resting on the wood, leaning in as close as she could without outright flinging herself over the bar.
“You just made out with a navy guy on the dancefloor”, she said, and even though it was just an observation you cringed at her tone, your eyes dropping to your hands.
“I did, didn’t I?”, you asked.
“Yeah, you did”, she said again, this time breaking out into a grin. “Damn straight you did! Tell me you’re here to let me know you’re leaving. Please. Don’t say he was such a bad kisser that you had to ditch him.”
“Nope”, you laughed. “He isn’t a bad kisser. And I am here to let you know we’re leaving.”
She let out a squeal, turning to Rooster to mouth ‘Told you so’ and watch him shrug with a grin before turning back.
“You go get it. This is exactly what you need.”
“And you go get Hawaiian shirt over there”, you teased, regaining some semblance of sanity. This was familiar territory - teasing her about the navy guys she went home with. Not going home with a navy guy yourself. But guess what you were doing? Who would’ve thought.
Jake came up behind you then, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close, looking down at you with that grin that just seemed to be etched into his features at any given moment.
“Ready to go?”, he asked, somehow taking away your ability to speak again for just a moment as you spotted remains of your lipstick on his mouth. Instead you nodded, debating whether wiping it away would be the right thing to do - because you could very well just keep staring at it, even if you didn’t know just why.
“Call me in the morning”, she said, pointing her finger at you. “And don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
You snorted as she handed you your jacket and your purse.
“Does that even exclude anything at all?”
She pretended to be shocked, hurt, but you couldn’t hear what she said anymore because Jake was tugging you away and his laughter filled your ears and his arm around you was just so distracting and because you were basically floating out of the bar, floating until he draped your jacket over your shoulders and hugged you close to keep your warm, floating until his hand brushed circles over your lower back, floating until he kissed down your jaw and floating until he finally ushered you into the uber with a chuckle.
Floating until he woke up next to you the following morning, a grin on his lips as he combed his hands through your hair and kissed the corner of your mouth and said ‘Good morning’ in the most devastatingly attractive morning voice you’d ever heard. Floating until you knew that you couldn’t let him go again. And then perhaps floating some more.
#top gun#x reader#top gun x reader#jake seresin#jake seresin x reader#hangman#hangman x reader#jake hangman seresin#jake hangman seresin x reader
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
the captain’s daughter ➤
pairing ➤ robert “bob” floyd x fem!mitchell!reader
genre ➤ fluff, allusions to smut
summary ➤ an unlikely candidate has you breaking your dad (and brother’s) “no pilots” policy
———
Your entrance to the Hard Deck was announced with a wave of cheers from the squadron of naval aviators tucked against the far wall. You laughed and gave a show of waving at them before scurrying over. You passed out hellos and high fives to them all before reaching your—in every way except by blood—brother.
“Hey, short stack,” Rooster greeted you when you gave him a side hug.
“Hey, beanpole,” you returned.
“What’s going on, Miss Mitchell?” Fanboy said.
“It’s a pleasure to see you as always,” Payback told you with a grin.
“God, don’t I know it.”
“Looking good, Y/N,” Hangman said, taking a step away from the pool game to greet you with his usual line.
“I’m sure you say that to all the pretty girls you meet,” you recited back at him.
“You know I only have eyes for you, baby.”
You laughed when he winked at you and shoved him back toward the pool table. “Piss off.”
This was the usual greeting you got from your father’s students. It all started back on that first day they all had landed on North Island and took to the Hard Deck to meet each other prior to training. You’d grown up on navy bases and eventually found your way to working a job near Top Gun, often putting you in the path of your father and brother on their numerous orders.
You’d been out with your dad that night when Hangman approached you. Maverick, your father, had quickly cut in and Hangman took to taking the piss out on him for the rest of the night, a decision he regretted almost immediately as he learned who your dad was the next day for training.
Once the trainees all got more comfortable with your dad, and got to know you in turn, the flirting from them all became a running joke to ruffle your dad’s feathers. No matter how well he knew that it was all a big joke to get him riled up, it still worked. Sometimes even Rooster butted in to draw a line, but you just found it hilarious and started giving your own flirty remarks back.
“How long is this going to go on for?” your dad asked, coming up behind you to pass out drinks to the crew. He pressed a kiss to your temple. “Hi, sweetie.”
“Hi, dad.”
“You know we’re just playing, Maverick,” Fanboy said.
“Do I know that, Fanboy? Do I?” your dad sighed.
“Mav, trust me, if any of them actually tried anything, I’d cut their dick off before you even heard about it,” Rooster spoke up.
Several of the men winced at that. Fanboy took a long drink from his cup.
“What if I want a shot with Miss Mitchell, here?” Phoenix spoke up, sending you an award winning smile.
“You may be the one I approve of the most, but it still is not going to happen,” Maverick said. “No Navy fighter pilots. It’s my one dating rule I’ve ever given Y/N.”
“Who do you approve of the least?” Phoenix asked.
“Hangman, obviously,” Rooster answered for him.
Maverick gave a small look of agreement but said nothing.
The table laughed.
You found a seat beside Fanboy. To your other side, Bob. Your heart beat a little faster as you sent him a small smile. He and Phoenix had been deployed on a mission that had them away for a few weeks. Their safe arrival back home was the reason you all were out drinking tonight.
The night went on and the flirting only reared its head a sparse few times. No one noticed how your and Bob’s hands were intertwined under the table, or how his grip tightened anytime one of the others made a flirtatious comment toward you.
———
“I can tell them to stop, you know,” you told Bob later, tucked against each other in the afterglow.
He tilted his head to look up at you, resting on your chest. You ran a hand through his hair and he closed his eyes, almost purring with the small, blissful sound he made.
“I can tell them to stop the flirting and the jokes if it bothers you,” you said. “Tell them I’m getting tired of it, or whatever.”
“No, it’s fine,” he said.
You gave him a look.
“I’m serious,” he laughed.
“Right. And that wasn’t jealous sex.”
“That was I haven’t seen you in three weeks because of a mission and I missed you very very much sex.”
“Hm.”
“I’m serious!”
“You’d tell me if it bothered you, right?”
“Yes,” he answered quickly. “I promise.”
He kissed your collarbone to assure you. You leaned down to kiss his forehead and fell into quiet again, holding each other as you settled down from the high you’d given one another. You ran your fingers through his hair and scratched his scalp. He smoothed his palms over your body, tracing small shapes into your skin.
You didn’t think you could ever need anything more than this. You wished you could freeze this moment and stay in it forever.
You drifted off to sleep and woke up still tangled together. It felt like you were unable to get enough of him on a normal day when he came home to you every night; he’d been away for three weeks and you felt insatiable, not even able to whine about missing him to anyone lest your dad or brother found out about you two.
If you had to guess, you’d say Bob felt the same way based on how he rolled on top of you the moment he woke up. The kiss was slow and messy and left you panting, desperate for more. You could do little more than steady your breathing as he disappeared under the blankets and wrapped his strong arms around your thighs to keep you in place.
Your head had just started to cloud over when you were abruptly snapped out of your lust-filled haze.
“Y/N! Ever heard of checking your phone?”
You inhaled sharply. “Bradley.”
You grabbed Bob’s shoulders and wrenched him out from under the covers.
“What? Are you okay?” he asked.
You slapped a hand over his mouth to keep him quiet. “My brother’s here.”
Bob’s eyes widened and he repeated back what you said into the muffle of your hand.
“Y/N? Hello?” Rooster called.
You and Bob stared at each other as you tried to come up with what to do or something to say. Eventually, you managed out, “Hang on, I’m getting dressed!” and practically shoved Bob out of bed, both of you scrambling to find clothes to put on.
“Mav and I texted you last night about breakfast today. Are you coming?”
“Uh, sure!” you said, hopping around to pull your pants on.
“Did you not see our texts? In the group chat.”
You chucked Bob’s shirt at him. “No, I didn’t.”
“Did you pass out after getting home last night? Couldn’t bother checking your phone?”
You glanced at Bob, flushing as you remembered last night. “Something like that.”
Bob turned to look at you helplessly, fully dressed despite his shirt being on backwards. You scanned the room then zeroed in on the windows.
“We are going to tell them about us eventually, right?” Bob asked in a whisper as you pushed him across the room.
“Yes, eventually,” you said, wrenching the window open.
“Why not just tell him now?”
You looked at him like he was insane. “This is not the introduction you want to have with my brother as my boyfriend. Eventually, yes, we’ll tell him and my dad but not like this, and not right now.”
You started hitting him to get him to climb out the window. “Okay, okay!”
You reminded yourself not get distracted by the way his muscles moved in his arms as he maneuvered himself out the window. You glanced back at the door to your bedroom but it had remained safely shut during the whole endeavor.
“Rooster won’t actually cut my dick off when we tell him we’re dating, right?” Bob asked, hanging onto the windowsill.
You blinked at him. “I’ll see you later.”
“Y/N—“
You leaned down to kiss him. “Go, or I close the window on your fingers.”
“Alright.” He pulled himself enough to kiss you once more. “Bye.”
“Bye.”
He dropped down from your window and you shut it quickly after him.
———
BONUS!
“Hey, Bob!” Hangman called out. “I’ve got a question for ya.”
Bob had his hands busy in the underbelly of one of the jets he and a few others were working on. Neck craned to see what he was doing, he looked around one of his extended arms to spot Hangman coming over to him. Phoenix trailed after him, looking mildly irritated by his existence as usual.
“Uh, yeah?” Bob said, keeping his hand aloft in the jet he was working on.
“Who gave you the hickey?”
Something clunked inside the plane as Bob lost hold of it. “W—what?”
Hangman gestured to Bob’s neck where a bruise was on full display. “That little thing. Where’d you get it?”
“I—I didn’t— it’s nothing.”
Bob’s hands were still caught up and busy when Hangman spotted something else incriminating. He tugged the neck of Bob’s shirt down just enough to reveal the bruise that had blossomed on his collarbone.
“Hey!” Bob protested, shouldering Hangman’s hand away as best he could.
“That seems like a little more than nothing,” Hangman said with a shit-eating grin.
“Leave him alone,” Phoenix spoke up, elbowing Hangman back to put herself between him and her WSO.
“What? You can’t tell me you’re not curious, too.”
“Yeah, but I’m not gonna harass him about it.”
“Who was it, Bob? I mean, the only girls you ever talk to are Phoenix, Halo, and Y/N.”
Maybe he was reading too far into it, or maybe the way Bob swallowed at the sound of your name and glanced around the hangar wasn’t just a coincidence.
“You wouldn’t dare,” Hangman said slowly. “Would you?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Bob said, too quickly.
“Holy shit,” Hangman said, “you’re fucking Mav’s daughter.”
“I’m not,” Bob argued, trying to force out a laugh.
“You actually are,” Hangman said, and he sounded almost genuinely impressed. “You’re fucking the captain’s daughter.”
“Okay, no,” Bob argued, finally getting his hands free from the jet. “I’m not… seeing Y/N. I’m not. I don’t know where you got that from, but we are just friends. Hardly that. Acquaintances, really.”
“I’m starting to think you might be right, Hangman,” Phoenix said.
Hangman looked at her in shock.
“Don’t get used to hearing that.”
“You’re siding with him?” Bob said incredulously. “Because I… hit myself in the neck. With a book. Hard.”
“You talk too much when you’re trying to lie,” Phoenix told him. “It’s your tell.”
“I am not dating Y/N, okay?” Bob said, forcing out laughter that just sounded pained.
“Tell Y/N to film it when you two finally decide to tell Rooster and Mav,” Hangman said. “I would pay to see their reactions. And what they do to you afterward.”
Sure of himself, Hangman gave a laugh and walked away. Phoenix hung back for a moment and patted her back seater on the arm.
“Good for you, Floyd,” she said. “Just try to keep your dick attached to the rest of you.”
#top gun#top gun x reader#top gun maverick#top gun maverick x reader#robert bob floyd#bob floyd#robert floyd#top gun bob#top gun bob x reader#robert bob floyd x reader#bob floyd x reader#robert floyd x reader#top gun fic#top gun fanfic#top gun fanfiction#top gun maverick fic#top gun maverick fanfic#top gun maverick fanfiction
7K notes
·
View notes
Text
i'll look after you (bradley "rooster" bradshaw x reader)
word count: ~1.3k
synposis: "don't think, just do," was a challenging mentality to live by. but bradley quickly finds there is a balance to be had between thinking and doing.
warnings: allusions to anxiety, work abuse, overthinking
a/n: another hurt/comfort, who's surprised? this has been sitting in my drafts with an unfinished smut ending for a month but i’m electing to post without it as i’m not confident in my ~other~ writing abilities yet.. enjoy!
It was rare that the Navy ever let its aviators off early for the day; even more so for the elite members of Top Gun. Yet, with the clock barely stroking past a sunny four, Bradley was reclined on the sofa with a beer in hand. The house was spotless thanks to a shared cleaning spree the day prior. Nothing could have made for a more perfect turn of events.
But Bradley was pondering on the few texts he'd received that day. They were void of any of the color and character he was used to. None of the words exaggerated their spelling, and periods punctuated every short sentence. Everyone had once remarked him as a chronic overthinker both in the air and on the ground. It was easy to dismiss the gnawing he felt in his gut as the remnants of that mentality.
So, he cracked a Heineken and let himself indulge in uncommon solitude. The flat screen played his favorite drama to placate his mind. A subtle hunger led to perusing online menus for takeout ideas. Every little bit of stimulation was a welcome distraction from his pompous presumptions.
And then he heard it: the abrupt slam of a car door. Fumbling footsteps made their way to the front stoop followed by a clamoring of keys against the painted wood. Bradley grinned as he awaited the arrival, even through the slight tug of worry in his chest.
He watched as you stumbled inside without care. Shaking hands hung up tightly gripped keys and those same fumbling feet kicked off their shoes in frustration. Your shoulders rose and fell sharply with every short breath.
Was I overthinking?
Bradley had yet to see your face, had yet to meet those eyes always bright with excitement. Your face remained tucked toward the wall with each passing second. Swallowing his hesitation, Bradley spoke over the TV. "Baby?"
Your body reacted in shock, jolting up as your head whipped around.
I wasn't.
Hot tears were rolling down your cheeks. Said cheeks were splotchy, proof that these tears were far from the first you'd shed that day. The bright eyes he adored were puffy and red. Their brightness now was not out of joy but sorrowful watering.
Bradley's heart clenched tightly. "Oh, angel," he cooed, hurrying to displace his Heineken to a coaster and mute the TV. You had little time and no energy left to fight his comfort. As your boyfriend stood before you with open arms, you crashed into them.
He wasted no time in embracing you. Sobs broke past your wobbling lips and muffled against his shoulder. "I've got you, babe," Bradley soothed. "I've got you, it's okay. Just let it out."
All you had ever wanted was for someone to support you whenever life put you through the wringer. Bradley felt it a great privilege to be that support, knowing you'd do nothing short of the same for him. He almost cursed himself for letting his insecurities derail his intuition for you, but dismissed the old habit of self-deprecation. Nothing mattered more in this moment than helping you get back on your feet.
"I- I didn't know, you'd be ho-home," you blubbered. The comment irked something in him. How long had you been coming home in a similar state, putting yourself together just in time for him to get home? Were there more despondent texts or other warning signals he hadn't picked up on?
Each hypothesis built a greater desire to look after you, and to follow up on any twinge of doubt he felt. He needed not only to think but to take action on what he thought. "Shh, none of that, baby. None of that. You can always let go around me, okay? 'Can always tell me what's bugging you."
The words lifted heaviness off of you little by little. You cried more at the safety you felt in his words. Bradley guided you, leaden-legged, to the couch. He sat first before gently tugging you atop his lap.
Warm palms rubbed against your cheeks to dry them. Warmer brown eyes sunk into yours, unconditional love seeping through every glint of gold. "Do you wanna talk about it now, or later?" Though not wanting to let your feelings fester, Bradley didn't desire to press you for answers.
He watched as you took in a steady breath and nodded slowly. "Work's just.. just been really frustrating." You sniffled before continuing with anecdotes of being overworked and underappreciated.
Bradley continued to rub softly at your skin as you spoke. His lips pressed assuring kisses to your temples at times you got too worked up to continue. He gave every ounce of care and attention he could to your stories as you vented them out.
You slumped forward in his hold as you finished with a heaving sigh. Another soft kiss was pressed to the crown of your head. "Thank you for telling me, baby." His hands took up rubbing up and down your arms to help ease any remaining tension.
Bradley wasn't sure what he could say or do to make any of this better for you, to help resolve your problems in one fell swoop so that you never had to feel this way again. At the same time, he wasn't sure that a fix-it attitude was what you wanted or needed.
Don't think, just do.
"I want you to know that you're amazing. You work your ass off in everything you do without any promise of reward, and that's really admirable." You lifted your head slightly to see him, to see the sincerity dripping from his praises. "But you deserve recognition for it. It's not fair that you're continually overlooked for fuckheads who don't do a fraction of the shit you do. And it's not fair that you're made to feel so much less than you're worth. I'd kick all their asses if I could." His empty threat broke a small giggle from your lips as grateful tears replaced those of frustration.
Bradley returned your smile with one of his own before resuming a serious tone. "You don't ever have to put on a show for me, okay? I want you to know you're safe to come to me with anything, even the littlest complaints that you write off as whining. Do you ever think I'm whining about Jake getting on my nerves? Or Maverick getting too tough with me in the air?"
"Sometimes."
"Okay, that wasn't the best example." You laughed again, louder this time, and Bradley felt his chest swell with pride. He leaned forward to catch your lips against his, softly, allowing you to take the reins. The kiss stayed soft and sweet as you melted against him. Soft breaths filled the space between you as you parted, resting foreheads against one another. "I'll always look after you, angel. Don't forget that." You nodded in agreement before kissing him once more.
"Thank you."
🏷️: @avengersfan25
#rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw#bradley fic#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw imagine#bradley bradshaw fic#bradley bradshaw fanfiction#top gun rooster#top gun fanfiction#bradley bradshaw x female reader
316 notes
·
View notes
Text
your way back to me
Dad!Jake “Hangman” Seresin x female reader
Summary: Jake’s best student gets into an accident and ends up in the hospital, and he doesn’t want to leave her alone so he waits for her mother to show up. But her mother just so happens to be the love of his life who left him in the middle of the night decades prior, and it’s about time she shared her biggest secret.
Warnings: Allusion to smut. Cursing. idk, that may be it.
Notes: This is an AU of the Oh, Baby series.
She was a good kid.
A great kid.
Dedicated, strong, wise beyond her years. Wickedly stubborn, and yet, she managed to keep it from impacting her work. She didn’t have the ego; that entitlement and bravado that came with being as talented as she was. But she wasn’t just talented. As if it were woven into the network of her veins, she was the absolute best at what she did, far surpassing her classmates.
No one wondered how she achieved so much at such a young age. She lived by some internal set of rules that Jake had caught onto over the last few months. Something along the lines of ‘work harder, train longer, don’t lose hope, never surrender.’ He could see it in every choice she made—too similar to his own mantra of motivation when he was developing his skills in the sky so many years ago. But she was also open. Open to offering others what she knew, and open to learning from others what she didn’t. He couldn’t have asked for a better student; didn’t even realize one like her could possibly exist.
He never had a child. There was one woman he would’ve given it all to, but when she left, finding another he cared to build a family with was not so easily achieved. But if anyone were to come close to what he imagined his kid to be like, Eve was it. The qualities she possessed that he recognized as his own were what bonded them, and the rest of her—the other pieces that made her whole—were infinitely better. They surpassed him. Those qualities, he’d deduced, came from her mother.
He didn’t know much about Eve’s mother, and knew of Eve's father only what Eve had shared with him—that solely being that the man was a pilot and the determining factor in her choosing to be the same. And maybe, he thought, that was why the two of them fell into their easy flow. He had always wanted a child; someone to care and be there for, and Eve was in need of the support and encouragement that should have come from the father she never knew. And so developed the relationship they had—one of instructor and mentor, confidant and friend.
Rooster teased him; told him that if he wanted something to take care of and watch over like a papa hawk, then he should’ve just gotten a puppy. But a puppy was a thought-out process. It was an acknowledged adjustment to daily life that required careful planning. It wasn’t the same. He hadn’t planned on taking Eve under his wing. Somehow, it was a natural development. He cared about the kid’s well-being. He wanted her to do well. The possibility of her fire and liveliness being snuffed out from a mission gone wrong was unable to pass through his mind without an accompanying squeeze to his heart. Should it become a reality, he would lose the closest thing he had to a daughter, and he knew he’d feel the full force of it.
That was why he stayed when the rest of her team had eventually gone back to base. Despite his exhaustion, despite his duties, the aches in his body from cheap waiting room chairs, and the hours upon hours of unchanging news, he refused to leave.
Eve only had her mother, and while she had been notified of the accident, it would take ages to make her way to California from the east coast. When she would finally arrive at the hospital, he didn’t want her to be alone. He wanted Eve’s mother to understand that there was someone else who cared about her baby, who tried so damn hard to protect her when he could, and wouldn’t leave her side when he failed.
—-
Jake…
Jake!
He internally groaned.
He hated when you called out to him. He hated that your voice always sounded so clear; so near that it filled him with enough false hope to have him reaching out into the darkness, thinking his fingers might actually feel your body. He imagined them grazing along your skin as you smiled at him in a promise that you were real, right in front of him, able to be tugged close and held tight and kissed until the rest of the world fell apart around you. He pictured you still in his bed, wrapped around him, trading whispers of love. It was a common stabbing to his chest that never failed to pierce through to his heart. Yet, if it disappeared, if you disappeared, if the dreams stopped, he knew it might be the thing to finally undo him.
“Jake!”
He jolted upright in his chair before his eyes had a chance to snap open. He looked up at a ghost. Stunning. Ethereal. A well-known silhouette.
Huffing, he positioned his elbow back on the armrest so he could rest his cheek against his fist. He allowed his eyes to drift closed. “Go away,” he mumbled. “You’re not real.”
“What are you talking about?”
His vision again tried to adjust to the overhead lighting. With a bite in his tone, he replied, “You are not—”
His eyes widened as they met those he had stared into so many times before. Real?
Jake shook his head, trying to recall any serious hits to the head. But then an invading thought caused him to remember his purpose.
His stiff joints cracked as he hopped out of his seat and rushed to the main desk.
"Excuse me, Miss." The words tumbled from his lips so fast it startled the young woman behind the counter. "Can you please tell me if—"
"She's going to be fine, Jake."
His breath hitched at the voice not leaving the mouth of the shocked young woman. The voice that came from behind him. That voice. The only one that mattered.
Moments ago, he was convinced his mind was having fun with him, playing and betraying simultaneously. However, needing to know Eve's state had shoved that concern to the side. But now it was unmistakable.
Jake gulped. He slowly turned.
Fuck.
His brow pinched, eyes beginning to sting as his heart went wild inside his chest.
Beautiful. So damn beautiful.
Like a fresh wave, it washed over him how different he felt just at the mere sight of you compared to how he did for any woman he had in his life over the last decades. Those feelings never came close to matching. They weren't on the same tier; couldn't be when what he felt for you sat high on a pedestal of his own making.
His eyes savored their slow scanning of you.
Exhaustion showed in the slump of your shoulders and in the dark circles under your eyes. Your hair was slightly messy. The shape of your body was hidden under a large sweatshirt. Your thumbnails were worn down from being nervously picked at. And Jake could see a few fine lines touched around your face. But you were still you. You still looked like his girl. And he couldn't understand how the hell you were in front of him.
"Eve's going to be ok," you repeated. "I talked with the doctor already. They gave her some medication to help her rest."
"You talked to…" He was still worn out. Brain trying to catch up with the world around him until, eventually, it clicked. "Eve is your daughter."
The empty room was silent as you stared at him. Then you said, "We can come back in the morning to see her. They said visiting hours are over so we have to go."
You twisted on your heel, making your way to the exit. Your steps against the tile echoed.
You were real. Each passing second further proving it. So he followed after you.
"Wait! You can't just walk aw—"
"Not here," you interjected.
His mouth instantly closed. He wouldn't argue, fearing that doing so would somehow make you disappear. And that was not something he was willing to risk.
He trailed you out the front door of the hospital.
"Are we far enough away now that you'll talk to me?"
You stopped and faced him. Neither of you seemed to guess what to do first. He had asked his question and he wanted his answer, but you didn't appear to know how to give one, so he skipped past it and instead glanced at your ring finger. It was bare. But maybe that meant nothing.
"Are you married?" He asked.
"No." You wrapped your arms around your middle. Hugging yourself. Barring yourself from him. Your weight shifted to your other foot, then your averted gaze made its way back to his. "Are you?"
His head shook as he soaked in the relief of your response.
Heaviness settled between you despite the California breeze moving the air along.
"Did you know?" He broke the silence, but the tension held firm. And as if you expected it, you didn’t flinch. "Did you know I was her instructor?"
The simple gesture of your nod was a punch to the gut.
"And you didn't want to reach out? Talk to me? See me?"
"Jake—"
"I would've done anything to get a chance to—" He stopped himself at the pain screwing your features. That expression had always ripped him apart. Twenty years changed nothing.
Taking a calming breath, he continued. "I'm sorry. I didn't…I'm not trying to…" His hand ran down his face. "Shit, I don't know how to do this anymore. I never thought I'd see you again."
You made no rushing move to collect the words he was giving you, and Jake sighed in disappointment. This was not how the two of you interacted. You didn’t stand so far apart. You didn’t hold yourselves back from touching one another. You weren’t supposed to be nervous in each other's presence.
"You look beautiful."
With a snort, you replied, "I'm a mess." You looked down at your sweatshirt and leggings. "I wore this to bed last night. They called me at the crack of dawn and I practically ran to the airport." Tugging at the hem of the oversized top did nothing to erase its wrinkles. "I didn't know you guys train so early."
"Eve likes to, so I let her," Jake said. "I'm so relieved that she's going to be ok. She's really great. If I ever had a daughter, I'd hope she'd be like Eve."
A hard swallow briefly created a bulge in your throat. Your arms found their way around your waist again.
"Do you, uh…do you have a place to stay?" With me, he thought. You belong with me.
"I'll find a hotel."
"You can sleep at mine."
"I couldn't intrude—"
"Honey, it's you. You're not an intrusion," he said, stepping closer.
He would’ve paused to consider the slip of the endearment and the slight widening of your eyes, but he too desperately needed to convince you to go with him. He needed more time. More time to exchange questions, to learn all he’d missed. More time to hear your voice, and maybe, if he could encourage it, hear your laugh as well. More time to be in your presence and exist in the space you enchanted. More of any and everything with you.
His hand rested on your arm and even through the thick material of the sweatshirt, he could feel your heat. So familiar. So welcoming.
Home.
"Come home with me, Honey. I've still got the spare room."
—
There'd been an unspoken agreement, as Jake drove back to his house, that neither of you would discuss all that had been revealed within the half-hour prior. Well, ‘agreement’ maybe was not the most accurate of words. You didn't speak, so Jake didn't pressure you. Had you chosen to open your mouth, he would've hung onto every syllable.
When you did finally step into the house, you shocked him with your sudden willingness to ask questions. How long had he been an instructor? Why had he kept the house when he'd surely been deployed elsewhere for long periods of time throughout his career? How the rest of his old team was?
He answered each one as you made your way down the hall into the living room. Then you went quiet and Jake glanced over his shoulder to find you staring at his wall of frames. From left to right, your eyes scanned each picture—those of his friends, group shots of his past classes, and one or two of him with his Gram. But you stared longest at the last one, and reached up to softly run your fingers over your younger face; a happy young woman smiling wide from his kiss on your cheek.
His chest tightened. "Do you want something to drink?"
You jerked your hand back to your side. A pinkish tinge rushed to your cheeks from having been caught, but seeing that reaction only produced the same in him. "No, thank you."
Nodding, he said, “Make yourself at home.” Just as you used to. Back when you were so close, so attached to one another that home really was being in each other’s space. It was the way things should have always been. It’s the way things would have continued to be had you not left him.
Jake grabbed a glass from his cabinet as you sat, poured himself a swigs-worth of alcohol, and downed it. He needed to curb the edge; calm the wiggling nerves under his skin. Then he joined you on the couch.
“How are you feeling?”
You blew out a long breath. “Exhausted. I was in panic mode all day. The only reason I’m not suffocating right now is because the doctor promised me she’ll be fine.”
“I felt that relief, too,” he said, trying to restrain himself from wringing his hands. “I mean, I know she isn’t my daughter, but I try to help and prepare her for every obstacle as if she were my own.”
As he had hoped, he got to hear your laugh. Not the one he so fondly remembered, though. It was a weak chuckle, not the least bit imbued with humor, and there was an odd twinge of something else he didn't quite understand.
“Of course you do," you muttered under your breath.
His brow pinched, and he was ready to ask what you meant, but his first word was interrupted.
“Jake, why didn’t you ever marry?”
"Uh…" He shrugged. "I don’t know. It just never happened.”
Lying to you was not something he was accustomed to. It was different than when he was a younger man keeping the secret of his feelings from the woman he’d loved for a year. You’d never directly asked him what he felt for you, so he was never in a position to be untruthful. But he sure as hell wasn’t about to tell you now that the sole reason he never married was because the only woman he ever imagined having a family with vanished from his life while he slept unaware and unable to stop it. You, though, didn’t seem to have the same problem when it came to properly moving on. You had created that family. Without him.
“Were you ever married?” he asked. “To Eve’s father? Or someone?”
For such a simple curiosity, you took a while to address it, opting instead to sit in silence, eyes not entirely focused on any particular thing in the room as one thumbnail picked at the other.
He knew that look, only shown when you were overthinking.
"Jake," you began, eyes still lost for a moment before they flicked over to his, “Do you know how old Eve is?"
"Sure. Pretty much everyone does. She's one of the youngest to ever be in the program," he chuckled.
A sense of pride encouraged his smile. Being so young made Eve’s skill and abilities wildly impressive, and aiding in her success couldn't be compared to anything less than an honor.
His grin remained long after the lingering of his statement faded entirely. And not once did your expression shift. Rather, the radiating anxiety continued to halo your body.
Jake placed his hand on top of yours to soothe their fiddling, and you immediately grabbed onto him, pulling that hand closer and keeping it snug between your palms.
“Honey, what’s wrong?"
Sighing, you peered up at him. Your gaze was sad, desperate, pleading, in a way. And he stared back, trying to decipher that pain; hoping to figure out why you were looking at him as you were, and why you'd asked the questions you did.
Then his eyes widened.
His jaw slackened.
Lips parted.
He’d heard of those random shocks. Those instances of a thread suddenly linking two dots, and that new connection bringing a clarity which, in hindsight, should have been so very obvious.
Jake sifted through his rapid replaying of memories that spanned the last couple of months.
Phoenix eyeing the young student and commenting how the girl bore quite the resemblance to him—He’d brushed it off. Plenty of people had blond hair and green eyes.
The way she sometimes spoke. A specific phrase said in a specific tone that he’d only ever heard come out of your mouth—Just an odd coincidence.
The fact that her name was the same as his grandmother's—There were only so many names to select from, right?
But now, with that new unbreakable thread connecting those previously sporadic dots, clarity smacked him upside the head.
"You left me at the beginning of that summer," he started, voice low and slow and careful with each word. "And Eve's birthday is in March."
"Yes."
Looking down at your joined hands, he nodded and said, "She's our daughter."
He could practically hear your swallow.
"...Yes."
He stood then, hand slipping from yours so it could run down his face as the other settled on his hip. He blew out a heavy breath.
"Jake, I'm so sorry. I should have told you. I thought—I thought I was doing the right thing at the time. When I found out you were her instructor, I was going to find a way to tell you, but I was so scared and it was selfish and—"
"Does she know?"
"No, she—When she came here she told me she looked up to you, and that if she imagined the kind of man her father was, he'd be like you."
You paused to properly exhale, head hanging in the aftermath.
He wanted to erase that showing of shame, but if he interrupted you, you might not have given the rest of the story. And he needed the rest of the story. He needed the truth of the events that had haunted him for decades.
"I always felt I made the biggest mistake of my life the day I left you, but hearing her say that solidified it. And for years, I let fear keep me from righting that wrong,” you said, a droplet of water falling from your face, soaking into the fabric of your leggings. "All this time I've been so afraid that you wouldn't want her, and you wouldn't want me, and it's paralyzed me."
His fingers twitched at his sides, begging him to allow them to brush away your tears—to let the woman he loved know that he didn’t hate her for her past choices—but he couldn’t move. And the only thing he could think to say was, "Should it really have taken her getting hurt for you to tell me?"
Raw heartbreak seeped into your gaze.
"So it's my daughter that is laying in a hospital bed right now." The more he said it, the more he called her that in acknowledgment of who they truly were to one another, the more it ached each limb and vein and nerve of his body to know that she was hurting. Yes, he had always cared about her and treated her like his own, but Eve being his daughter changed things. It altered his biological instincts and the chemical balance in his brain. Failing in protecting her was no longer just a failure, it was catastrophic to his soul.
He pictured her face bruised, her lip cut, her cheek swollen. He imagined your sheer horror once learning she was injured thousands of miles out of your reach. You’d faced it alone. You never should have been alone to begin with.
"I should've kept looking for you," he said. "I should have just told everyone else to fuck off."
"Jake, if they were telling you to give up, then—"
"Don't. Do not say it was for good reason. We could've been together. If I had found you we would've been a family."
The day his friends had sat him down, laid out what they believed to be the reality he refused to accept, and told him to move on, was fresh in his mind. Not a moment of it had faded. He’d dreamt about it for ages—sometimes still did—always waking devastated.
Your palm cupping his cheek called him back from his thoughts.
"The only reason we weren't a family is because I fucked up. I did,” you stressed. “This isn't on you."
You were suddenly so close, he realized. So warm within his space. How he’d survived losing you, he didn’t know.
"Would you have come back with me? If I had been able to find where you were?"
Your hand fell but he grabbed it before you could retreat, and thankfully, you didn’t fight him. Then you sighed, the act expelling the tenseness that had stiffened your form. "I'm not going to answer that question."
Perhaps for the best. Either answer would’ve broken him.
He wished to go back in time, to never give up on his search. He wanted a chance to convince the woman he loved to raise a child together. He wanted to be a father to that baby girl as she’d grown, and enjoy all of the moments that came with being her parent.
Nothing could give that to him now, but at least he wouldn’t be losing any more time.
Eve being grown didn’t mean she wasn’t his. Being in one another’s lives proved to be predestined. He was a father, had always been, and could maybe finally be seen as a father by his daughter now that you had bared it all and given the truth.
So he figured maybe it was only fair to do the same for you.
Jake looked at you. Really looked at you. His eyes bore into yours, taking in the swell of your pupils and the different colors flecked around in what remained of the ring of your irises. "Is this secret sharing day?" he asked.
"What?” Your brow pinched as you sniffled and swiped your fingers under the lower lashes framing your right eye to remove the final remnants of tears. “I-I suppose so. If that’s really what you want to call it."
“Good.” Both hands were on his hips to give him some sense of physical stability, and he licked his lips, then said, "I didn't get married because I never found anyone I loved as much as I love you. I couldn’t fully give myself to anyone while I still belonged to someone else.”
Shock and disbelief melded inside that previously heartbroken gaze.
He hadn’t been able to say the words before you left. You hadn’t given him a chance. But he could see now that you had spent years wondering if felt that deeply for you, as he had wondered if you felt that way for him.
“Jake, you…you love me?”
“I've always loved you, Honey,” he declared just before his lips met yours.
The soft touch didn’t seem to stun you. You didn’t take your time to adjust to the kiss you hadn’t shared in decades. Instead, you fell right into it, right alongside him. Your arms rose to wrap around his neck, sending shudders up his spine. You tugged him closer as he did the same to you. You moaned and whimpered and let your tongue play with his, so generously allowing him to get drunk off of your taste.
You kissed him exactly like he remembered; like nothing had changed or interrupted the perfect path you once started on. There was the same sweetness that, just as it used to, surrendered to an underlying burn. A familiar need for each other that had never died. And you settled into it; kissing skin and grasping at clothes and snuffing out all space between you until neither of you could take it anymore.
“Honey?” A little whine into your mouth.
“Yes,” you replied, sealing your lips again before he could say another word. Because you weren’t just answering the call of his name for you. You were answering the unspoken question the both of you already knew was coming.
Jake grinned into the kiss and slipped his hand down the front of your leggings.
—-
"I assume you have more questions?"
Your voice was the first break in the peaceful silence where he had been lazily pressing his lips to your neck and bare shoulder while your back was tucked against his chest.
He did have questions. But it was a war whether to ask them or to remain a little longer in the bubble of bliss where he could touch you and cuddle you and kiss you. You had asked, though, and he'd never been too good at denying you anything.
Pulling his lips away from your skin, he said, “A hundred of them.”
You flipped under the bedsheet to face him. "Any particular one you wish to start with?"
Jake paused. Not because he didn’t know the first of which to ask, but because your answer had a great deal of power over him. It contained his hope and his pain, either with the potential to destroy the other. It was an answer that would dictate his future.
"Can she know?" He finally asked.
"She deserves to know,” you replied to his relief. “She'd want to know. As long as you want her to know, too."
His arm over your waist curled and pulled you closer. "Of course I do, Honey."
"Then we can tell her tomorrow, if you want."
"Are you ready for that?"
"It's not about me," you said. "She might forgive me now, she might not. It could take a while, I suppose, and I hate that, but I'd deserve it."
When your head dipped down away from his, he ran his hand over the strands of your hair and brushed his lips against your forehead.
"I hope that we all can look at this as a chance to have something new, though," you continued. "I'd like for us to look ahead, not behind."
Jake smiled. That was all he wanted. Just a chance to have what he’d lost. Everything he had lost.
"And what about you and me?" He hummed as his knuckle under your chin tilted your face back up to his. "Do we get something new as well? Because I don't know if I'm capable of letting you walk out of my life again."
The corners of your lips curved the slightest and you cupped his cheek, drawing him further into you. The kiss was gentle, brief, but more than enough to send tingles throughout him. Then you separated a hairs width and whispered:
"Jake, I'm not capable of leaving you again."
----
A/N: Ok, so this might be it for a little bit, guys, as far as fic posting. There’s been a lack of interest it seems lately and i’m not in a good space mentally to be able to put a lot into it and not know how it’s being received. It’s no ones fault but my own that I feel this way. This is how I’ve chosen to spend my time and this is the platform I picked. I want to write the rest of Oh, Baby and Beyond the Hills stuff but idk. Maybe i’ll snap out of it. But this was just to let those of you who have been following know what the plan might be. I’m very thankful that some of you have stuck around this long.
Tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @cinderellasmissingshoe @novagreen04 @multifandomlover4life @mayhemmanaged @memeorydotcom @ryiamarie
#jake seresin#jake seresin x reader#jake hangman seresin#jake hangman seresin x reader#top gun maverick#top gun maverick hangman#top gun maverick fic#tgm fic#jake seresin fluff#jake seresin angst#dad!jake seresin#dad!jake seresin x reader#jake seresin x female!reader#jake seresin x fem!reader#jake seresin imagine#jake seresin au#jake seresin fanfiction#jake seresin fic#jake seresin fanfic
522 notes
·
View notes
Text
Slow Down, You're Gonna Crash
Chapter Four
Summary: Being a Verstappen means realising that you'll never be as good as her brother. She knew it. That was why she ran away to California. Of course, she's gonna fall for the older, naval aviator. And, of course, it pisses her family off.
Bradley Bradshaw x F1!Driver Reader
Warnings: Allusions to smut
1.8K
Series Masterlist
"Rooster."
"You've been spending far too much time at The Hard Deck."
The moment he said it, she let out a laugh. But he was right, she'd only started calling him Rooster because of Jake.
Bradley had been a little afraid for her to meet Jake. If anybody could turn her head away from Bradley, it was Jake. The way he sauntered in, oozing confidence, he caught her eye. And Bradley couldn't blame her; Jake was a pretty boy with kills under his belt. He didn't run out of fuel.
Jake noticed her, too. But that also didn't come as a surprise. Bradley knew she was gorgeous, knew his fellow aviators would have their eyes on her if he took her to The Hard Deck. But he'd wanted nothing more to see her in his spaces, in the places he frequently.
She held her hand out, offering Jake her first name only. He took her hand, introduced himself and shook it. And, in that minute, a beautiful friendship was born.
It took three days of Bradley being jealous and grumpy before he realised there was nothing going on between her and Jake. Not that he had any right to be jealous. What were they doing but sleeping together?
"C'mon, Roos," she said down the phone. She sat on the bed of her shitty motel room, towel head against her body. "I need your help."
Rooster rolled his eyes. It wasn't malicious, more endearing. "What do you need, Princess?"
The nickname wasn't serious, she would have hated it if she was being serious. No, it was something he used when she was being just that, a princess. Like when she wore those stupid shoes she'd bought and spent the night complaining at Bradley. He'd carried her shoes in one hand and carried her out to the Bronco on his back.
He'd called her princess just the night before, when she'd been on her knees, pouting with her fingers wrapped around his cock. Bradley had pulled her up after that. Threw her on the bed and buried his face in her cunt.
Whatever she wanted, Bradley knew he was going to give it to her.
"Can I come and use your shower?"
The sigh he released from his lips was entirely superficial. "I'll be there in five minutes," he said and ended the call.
And, five minutes later, she watched from the window as the blue Bronco pulled up outside of the shitty motel she'd found herself in. She grabbed her bag from the bed (she was rather particular with her shampoos), walked out of the motel, and towards the Bronco.
When she tried pulling open the passenger side door, it didn't budge. "Roos, c'mon!" She called as she kept trying the door. But, still, it wouldn't open. "Let me in! Rooster!"
He opened the window slightly. (It was almost as if he knew she'd reach in and open the door herself if he opened the window fully. Two weeks and he knew her so well). "Go back up to the room and get the rest of your stuff. You're staying with me until you leave San Diego," he said.
A grin lit up her face. Rooster unlocked the doors and she threw the bag full of her toiletries into the back of the Bronco. Bradley's watched, eyes hidden behind his sunglasses, smile beneath his moustache, and she went back to her motel room. She shoved the clothes she had brought with her into her remaining bags and ran down to the office.
She checked out of the motel and left her key on the desk. Returning to the Bronco, she threw her bags into the back and climbed in beside him. "Seriously," she said as he began driving away, "thank you.”
"Don't worry about it, stinky," he said and she pulled a face at him. "Let's get you home."
It did make sense to have her in his home, though, didn't it? She spent so much time with him lately that the McLaren had been parked on his driveway for the last week. All Bradley needed now was to have her soaps and shampoos in his shower caddy.
It was odd, wasn't it? His life had been overflowing with tragedy. He'd lost his father so young and his mother too soon after. And then he'd had the man he'd once loved like a father pull his papers and set him back four years.
Things had gotten better since Maverick had come back into his life. They were a long way away from being normal, but things were better. Still Bradley had been searching for some sort of solace in his life.
He didn't expect to find it in a twenty-four year old woman. A sports star, at that. Bradley hadn't wanted to seek such comfort from her, he was just looking for somebody to ride his cock for the night. He didn't expect to want her to stick around.
He carried her bags into his house. It had always felt too big for just one person, and having somebody else's stuff in his place felt right. "D'you want dinner?"
"Please!" She called as she ran towards his bathroom, her little bag full of toiletries held between her hands.
Bradley wasn't exactly a brilliant cook. Carole had tried to teach him, but, and I quote, he always had his 'head in the clouds, just like his father'. But still, he could cook and that was far better than she could do (not that Bradley was aware of that).
So, as she turned the knobs to start the water in his shower, Bradley began preparing food. She waited, hand under the gentle stream of water as she waited for it to warm up. As soon as it was warm, she stripped off her clothes and stepped under the water.
A content sigh left her lips as she moved Bradley's loofah over her skin. She'd been in his shower before, always using his soap. As much as she loved smelling like him, it was lovely to have her own soaps scrubbing her skin.
She washed her hair, nails dragging against her scalp as she rubbed the shampoo in. Ever since the first time she'd used Bradley's shower, she'd wanted to shower with him. But it would have been a tight squeeze (and neither of them would have minded).
Stepped out of the shower, she looked around for a towel. A towel that wasn't there. "Bradley!" She called. "Have you got a towel I can use?"
Bradley came running when she called. "Shit, sorry!" He called as he walked past the bathroom. She didn't know where he went, but a few moments he was back at the bathroom door, knocking.
She hadn't bothered to lock the door. Why would she? What hadn't Bradley seen before? Keeping her feet planted firmly on the bathmat, she pulled open the door, letting Bradley into the bathroom.
Again, he'd seen all of her naked body plenty of times over before. But he still shielded his eyes as he passed her a towel. "I hope you like macaroni cheese," he said as she wrapped the towel around the body.
"Macaroni cheese?" She echoed as she patted her body dry. "I haven't had that in years." A smile graced her pretty face as she took the towel from around her body, wrapped it around her hair and strode towards Bradley.
When her fingers touched his shoulder, Bradley looked up. A hiss left his lips as his eyes moved across her body. "Holy shit," he said. And she just laughed at him. It wasn't a sweet little giggle, but a full on laugh. And Bradley loved it.
***
"Phone," Bradley said with a sexy, groggy, morning voice. His body was pressed against her own, morning wood and all. His moustache tickled the back of her neck, waking her up, but he kept his grip on her tight.
"I got it," she mumbled, barely opening her eyes as she grabbed her phone off her nightstand. Not paying much attention, she swiped her finger across the bottom of the screen and pressed her phone to her ear. "Hello?"
There was a beat of silence. And then, "Holy shit," came an American voice. "I didn't think you'd pick up."
Suddenly, she sat up. "Huh?" Bradley mumbled. But he stayed laying beside her, nose pressed against her hip and hand on her thigh, fingers moving across her skin like they had a mind of their own.
"Logan," she began, somewhat breathlessly. "I, uh..."
Truthfully, she hadn't meant to pick up the phone. She saw all of the phone calls she'd been getting while preseason testing was going on, but she hadn't picked up. Hearing how good the RB car was, the car that was supposed to be hers was, it would have been far too painful.
But it was the day before the very first race of the season. She'd completely lost track of the days, or she would have had her phone turned off.
"I miss you," Logan said. "We all do. It's so weird not having you here for the season opener."
She shook her head. "Logan, stop. Please don't do this," she said quietly, fingers moving through Bradley's hair. He let out a satisfied hum, but she didn't hear it. "I can't hear this right now."
But Logan kept going, pretending he didn't hear her. "How quickly can you get to Bahrain?" He asked. "And, where the hell are you?"
A sigh left her lips. "I can't go to Bahrain, but I will tell you where I am. As long as you promise not to tell anybody!" She hissed down the phone. Bradley pinched her thigh suddenly, so suddenly that she jumped.
"I swear down, I'm not gonna tell anybody."
"Not even Max," she insisted, Bradley's fingertips moving higher. She batted his hand away.
Logan let out a weak laugh. "You haven't even told your brother?" He cried, but the noise she released from her throat had him promising to tell nobody.
"Fine," she breathed, scratching at Bradley's scalp. "I'm in California ."
There was a moment before Logan responded. "Wait," he said, voice lowered to just a little more than a whisper. "If you're in the States, will you come and watch Miami?"
"I think about it," she said.
That was good enough for Logan. "I got to go," he mumbled.
"Good luck, Lo," she said quietly. "And, for what it's worth, I really do miss you." She ended the call after that snuggled back down beside Bradley.
He squeezed her hip and moved his body on top of her own, cock pressing against her clothed cunt. "Who was that?" He asked, his morning voice still groggy and sexy.
She tugged at his hair, a lazy smile crossing her face. "Nobody," she said and pulled Bradley's face down to her own.
Taglist (OPEN): @biancathecool
@not-nyasa
@nurse-sainz
@boiohboii
@thehufflepuffavenger1
@sweate-r-weathe-r
@hiireadstuff
@spideybv28
@skepvids
@spookystitchery
@jolixtreesunn
@nikfigueiredo
@primroseluna
@charli123456789
@madara1256
@jpg3
@dckgzz
@almostjollypizza
@charlesgirl16
@mavies-stuff
@siannaplmn
@justmexfranzi
@marvelfangirl04
@customsbyjcg-blog
@esquivelbianca
@thatgirlthatreadswattpad
@hnm-mika
#bradley bradshaw#bradley bradshaw imagine#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw fluff#bradley bradshaw x you#rooster#rooster imagine#rooster x reader#rooster fluff#rooster smut#bradley bradshaw smut#rooster x you#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader#top gun#top gun maverick#tgm#rooster top gun#top gun imagine#top gun fanfiction
236 notes
·
View notes
Text
Red, White, and Bradshaw
A Red, White, and Rooster Sequel
Series Warnings: Language, alcohol consumption, political inaccuracies. Mentions of and acts of terrorism, death. Allusions to and full smut. Banner Credit @thedroneranger
Masterlist Next Part
...........................................
Chapter 1: Designated Survivor
At thirty-nine years old, you'd lived quite a life. You had been married to the man of your dreams for almost a decade. You had four beautiful children with him. You had been the First Lady of the United States, and you were currently the Secretary of Commerce for Bradley's successor, President James Hamilton.
Though you had worn many hats during your time in Washington, you never lost sight of who you were. After his time as president came to an end, Bradley supported your political career. He was more than happy to take a back seat from the spotlight and be a stay at home dad to your kids.
Andy and Elle were now seven, Leo, whom you were pregnant with at his second inauguration was five, and Wren, your fifth anniversary vow renewal oops baby, whom you loved very much, was three.
Your two boys were the spitting image of their father, and your two daughters were like mini versions of you. Out of all of them, Elle and Leo had definitely inherited your can-do attitude and "bossy" personality, as Bradley would say, while Andy and Wren shared his laid-back vibe.
Your family was your pride and joy, but you were also proud of the fact that you never had to sacrifice your love of business and politics to have them. You were blessed with a supportive husband who recognized how hard you worked.
When President Hamilton had first offered you a cabinet position, you were hesitant to take it. How could you raise a family and serve? Being First Lady was one thing. This was an entirely different level.
Bradley listened as you told him about your worries and assured you that he would do everything in his power to support you if you wanted to make this career move. "You supported me when I need you. You helped me follow my dream, and now it's my turn to help you." Bradley had told you as he held you in his arms one night.
The next day, you accepted the offer, and after a relatively quick vetting process, you became Y/N Wiseman-Bradshaw, Secretary of Commerce.
The first few months were an adjustment. You spent many sleepless nights venting to Bradley about how you thought you'd made a mistake and that you should quit. He would listen to your concerns and encourage you and soothe your worries each time. He celebrated all of your victories in your new position, both big and small. Everything was going well—too well.
.............
It was a quiet night in Washington D.C.
President Hamilton was about to give his first State of the Union address. You were in a secure, undisclosed location with your family. You had been chosen as the designated survivor. You thought it was silly, really. What were the odds that every single person ahead of you in the line of presidential succession died at the same time?
But you also understood the importance of it. You appreciated a good backup plan.
You were relaxing in some leggings and a well-worn, oversized Georgetown hoodie, staring at the TV when Bradley joined you.
He had an old Navy shirt and some flannel pants on. He'd just tucked the kids in bed before coming to watch the State of the Union with you.
He wrapped his arm around you as the two of you shared a bowl of popcorn.
"Oh my god, did I look that stuffy when I gave my speehes?" He asked as the two of you listened.
"No, Dearest. You looked exceptionally handsome." You told him. He laughed as the two of you continued to watch the screen. Everything seemed fine—normal even.
Until it happened.
A large boom shook the safe house just as the live feed of the address went black.
You and Bradley looked as each other with panic in your eyes.
"Bradley, go get the kids." You told him. He was out of his seat and racing down the hall before you could finish your sentence. You quickly flipped through the TV channels to see if you could figure out what was wrong. The sound of sirens and helicopters blared from outside. Whatever this was, it was serious.
Just then, Dante, the head of your security team, burst in the door. Mrs. Bradshaw, we need to move all of you now." He said in a protective tone. "Dante, what's going on?" You asked him. He didn't respond.
Just then, a news flash came over the TV, and your heart sank. Your children came running into the room and gathered around you as Bradley followed behind.
"Oh my god." The two of you said in unison. "Bradley, they blew up the Capital." You said in disbelief as you watched the screen. You couldn't believe your eyes. In the spot where the beautiful building had once stood was nothing but a pile of burning rubble.
"Dante, I need you to get the Seresin's on the phone right now." You demanded. "Mrs. Bradshaw, we need to get all of you out of here now. We will call them from the car." Dante said. You wanted to protest, but he was grabbing your arm and hauling you out door as more members of your security team escorted Bradley and your children.
You looked back over your shoulder just in time to see a banner flash stating that there would likely be no survivors. Your heart sank as you thought about all innocent men and women who lost their lives— your parents included.
Suddenly, it felt like everything was moving in slow motion. Andy and Elle sat on either side of you in the car while Leo and Wren clung to Bradley.
You were vaugly aware of him telling you that they had reached Jake and Jaycee. The Seresin's and their three children were fine, and more security would be sent to them.
Bright lights from police, fire, and military flashed through the streets of D.C. as Dante navigated them. You were sure someone was talking to you, but you didn't hear what they said. You felt like you were underwater.
You didn't register yourself getting out of the SUV or the fact that you were being taken through a back passage of the White House. It was only when Chief Justice Inglewood was asking Bradley to hold the Bible and for you to place your hand on, that you snapped back to reality.
"Wait, what's going on?" You said as you looked around the room.
"Mrs. Bradshaw, you're the designated survivor." Chief Justice Inglewood said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
You still hadn't processed what was going on.
"Honey, you're about to take the oath of office. You're going to be the president." Bradley said to you calmly.
You took a deep breath as Justice Inglewood looked at you. "Please place your left hand on the Bible, raise your right hand, and repeat after me." She began. You didn't even have time to process what Bradley had said before Inglewood started the oath.
"Do you, Y/N Wiseman-Bradshaw, solemnly swear to faithfully execute the Office of President of the United States, and will to the best of your ability, preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States?" Chief Justice Inglewood asked you.
That's when the reality of the situation hit you like a ton of bricks. The president, vice president, and everyone else in the Capital tonight were dead. You swallowed thickly as your children huddled close, not sure of what was happening, but aware enough to know something was off.
You took a deep breath and looked at Bradley for reassurance. He nodded his head and smiled.
"I, Y/N Wiseman-Bradshaw, do solemnly swear to faithfully execute the Office of President of the United States, and will to the best of my ability, preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States." You affirmed in a shaky tone. You felt like you were going to throw up. You tried to swallow, but your mouth was dry, and your tongue felt like sandpaper. You were vaugly aware of someone taking pictures in the background as you spoke the words.
"Congratulations, Madame President. I wish this could have been under better circumstances." Justice Inglewood said as she shook your hand.
You thought that it was odd that she was shaking your hand and congratulating you. You were here because hundreds of people had died, not because you won an election. You did deserve this.
Your hands started to shake as tears pricked your eyes. This was wrong. All wrong. You felt like you couldn't breathe. How the hell did you end up here?
Your husband turned to you and saw the fear in your eyes.
Bradley immediately pulled you in for a hug before cupping your face in his hands. He could sense the terror running through your body as the severity of the situation set in.
"Oh my god, Bradley. I—I—what am I going to do?" You said as tears threatened to fall from your eyes.
"Right now, we are going to tuck the kids in and read them a bedtime story. Then, you are going to go with Dante to a secure conference room and talk with the department heads that weren't at the State of the Union. You are going to figure out a way for us to get through this because that's what you do best, honey. You solve problems. Tomorrow morning, you are going to drink way too much coffee, put on a suit, and address the nation. You are going to let them know that we are down, but not out. You are going to show them how strong their president is. But most of all, you're going to do your best. That's all you can do." Bradley tells you as he kissed your forehead.
Dante doesn't give you time to respond or to help Bradley with the children before he is whisking you away again.
"Go get 'em; Madame President. I love you." Bradley said as he ushered you to go. You nodded and followed Dante.
You couldn't believe this was happening. One minute, you were enjoying a quiet evening. The next, you were thrust into a position you weren't even sure you wanted and knew you weren't qualified for.
"Oh my god." You said to yourself for what seemed like the hundredth time this evening as the weight of everything settled over you.
You were no longer Secretary Wiseman-Bradshaw. You were President Wiseman-Bradshaw.
Life as you knew it would be forever changed.
Dante and your other Secret Service team members stopped outside a door. Dante went ahead while you waited behind. Moments later, he returned and said,
"Madame President, they're ready for you."
Taglist: @daggerspare-standingby @shanimallina87 @teacupsandtopgun @hecate-steps-on-me @roosterscock @roosterbruiser @roosterforme @seresinsbabe @startrekfangirl2233 @soulmates8 @xoxabs88xox @avengersfan25 @blackwidownat2814 @loveforaugust @mak-32 @cottagecori @amysteryspot @heyimmadisonn @sunlightmurdock @lewmagoo @cassiemitchell @die-cunt @shipinabluebottle @malindacath @violyn20 @imawkwardlysoc @books-for-summer @blackroseboulevard @recordblues @desert-fern @luckyladycreator2 @katieshook02 @samhapner6 @sebsxphia @roosters-girl @diorrfairy @je-suis-prest-rachel @mizzzpink @a-linabean @amklibrary @gretagerwigsmuse @jstarr86 @actuallyazriel @krismdavis @bradshawsbaby @wkndwlff @dakotakazansky @multifandomlover4life @princess76179
#cherrycola27#top gun maverick#top gun#bradley rooster bradshaw#rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw#rooster top gun#tgm#rooster smut#rooster x reader#lt. bradley bradshaw#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw smut#tgm fanfiction#tgm fic#tgm smut#top gun 2#red white and bradshaw#red white and rooster
395 notes
·
View notes
Text
Fell in Luv
summary: Bradley letting you pick the Halloween costumes this year ends up being the best decision he’s ever made.
pairing: bradley bradshaw x girlfriend!reader
word count: 2.1k
warnings: allusions to smut, mentions of alcohol, and bradley being a horndog but same tbh
this is my lil contribution to halloween fics so pls enjoy lollll
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Bradley Bradshaw was many things; a naval aviator, a boyfriend, a son, a romantic (if he could say so himself) but mostly he was a comic. Bradley took pride in making people laugh. You knew that whenever you stepped into a room he’d be in the centre of it, causing some type of chaos to keep everyone entertained. It was one of the things you loved most about him. It was also why you couldn’t help but burst out laughing at his suggestion this morning.
“We are not wearing a couples costume to the Hard Deck tonight,”
“Baby, pleeeeeeeeeeeeease.” He whined in a way that reminded you so dearly of a child on the verge of a tantrum. You raised your eyebrows at his tone and he checked himself. Clearing his throat he started again.
“Jake and his girlfriend are dressing up! So are Bob and his girlfriend! I seriously think Penny and Mav have something sorted! Not to mention all the couples we don’t know who will be matching…”
Bradley’s puppy dog eyes stared up at you from where he was sat behind the island in your kitchen.
“God don’t look at me like that you make me feel bad.” You spoke as you walked around the kitchen to sit next to him. He squeezed your ass as you walked by and you gave him and a pointed look. “You’re not helping yourself here.”
He pouted and spoke again, “what if I let you choose the costume?” You perked up at his suggestion and he carried on, “sweetheart I’m giving you a great deal here.” You thought on his offer. Bradley had to be at work all day today whilst you had the day off, it would give you the chance to figure out what to wear and not leave it to Bradley’s often misguided hands.
You loved Bradley with all of your heart, but your apprehension to a couples costume came with reason. Last Halloween you had allowed him to pick the costumes without backlash and had ended up having to walk around the Hard Deck as dressed Mario and Luigi. You were so utterly confused as you why you had to be Luigi. Had they ran out of Princess Peach costumes? You had questioned Bradley as soon as he showed you the matching overalls and his answer was infuriatingly simple.
“Ohhhhhhhhh i forgot about her!” He laughed. Doubled over once he saw you sporting a matching moustache to his. If you were going to dress up you were going to commit to the costume.
Done with your cringeworthy reminiscing you hummed and finally smiled, “Ugh, fine.”
Bradley pressed a sloppy kiss to your cheek and hopped down from the stool he was sat on.
“Thanks, baby!”
He rushed to leave in fear that if he stayed longer you would change your mind. He shouted from the door as you started to clear breakfast from the table.
“I’ll see you tonight darling!” He was laying it on thick.
You giggled, “Bye babe!” and waited for the sound of the door to close before you retreated up to your shared bedroom to start thinking about your costumes.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Flicking through your draw of random accessories that you had accumulated over the years something caught your eye. Digging behind a hideous plastic tiara you picked up a pair of bunny ears.
They had been a part of a costume you wore with two of your other friends a few years earlier. You had all dressed as the plastics from mean girls in their Halloween ‘outfits’, you being Regina, had worn the bunny ears to complete the full look. It had been a look that got you far too much attention than you were used to. But if Rooster wanted a couples costume, then a couples costume he would get.
Placing the bunny ears on the bed you pulled out the second drawer down where you kept your socks and underwear. You pushed your hand right to the back and felt around for the tell tale material of your fishnets. You had bought them once on a whim of trying to be more alternative in your fashion. However, whenever you put them on they never made it out of the house with you. Bradley was a simple man and seeing his girlfriend in fishnets was something he felt was only for his eyes.
You huffed in triumph as you snagged your nail around the material and managed to pull the fishnets out from the drawer (making a mental note to clean the drawer out later because geez) and placed them down next to the ears.
Rummaging through you wardrobe now, you hummed as you flicked through random articles of clothing until you hit the jackpot. The black corset bodysuit you had bought on a whim to surprise Bradley for his birthday earlier on in the year. You giggled to yourself as your costume was coming together before your eyes and Bradley was going to lose his mind.
Reaching for your phone on the dresser, you went to ring Jake’s girlfriend asking for a favour. She picks up after the first few rings.
“Hi gorgeous, are you okay?” She chats down the phone.
“Perfect actually, I was just wondering if I could borrow Jake’s silk robe for Bradley tonight?” You giggled down the phone.
You were only aware of Jake’s bourgeois fashion choices because of an emergency pick up he had to make for his girlfriend after she had downed one too many tequila shots at your birthday party. He had been teased mercilessly for the robe by Bradley for months still so you felt it only appropriate that he shared the experience.
Jake’s girlfriend snorted at your question, “Of course! But please don’t return it with any bodily fluid stains, I will never hear the end of it from Jake.”
You assured her, “I promise no harm will come to his robe, scouts honour.”
You could hear her smile through the phone as she began to question you, “What are you going as anyway?”
“I only agreed to costumes this year on the condition that I got to pick it. Lord knows there could not be a repeat of last year.”
She cackles as you carry on. “So I’ve decided on a playboy bunny and Hugh Hefner.”
“And you think Rooster is gonna let you walk around the Hard Deck all night in fishnets and bunny ears, you’re funny!”
“That’s the whole point my dear,” you smirk down the phone.
“God you’re evil. I love it.”
You chat some more and agree that she’ll come and drop the robe off, then pick you up so you can get ready together.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Hearing a knock at the door, you go to greet Jake’s girlfriend who has the robe in tow. You smile at her and take the robe off of her, leading her upstairs.
You place the robe down on your bed, where you have also placed Bradley’s hat that he has to wear with his dress whites, and a pair of black smart trousers. Jake’s girlfriend giggles as she reads the note you’ve left Bradley along side his outfit.
Bradley,
Wear this to the Hard Deck tonight, I’ll meet your there
Love, your bunny x
ps, recognise the robe? ;)
“He is gonna lose his mind when he sees you!”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Finishing the final touches to your makeup, you look across the room to where Jake’s girlfriend has added a bunny tail to your bodysuit.
“I knew I kept you around for a reason.” She laughs at your statement and stands up to dress herself.
Her and Jake were going as her choice of costume as well. Her hair was pulled up into a classic ponytail and she was somehow managing to balance herself in bright pink stilettos. Barbie and Ken. You smiled knowing Bradley would get a kick out of seeing Jake even more perfectly styled that usual.
You pull the fishnets up your legs, careful not to catch a manicured nail into the fine material and secure them with a quick jump. Next you pull on the corset, and stand to look in the mirror at how it accentuates your waist and breasts perfectly.
Jake’s girlfriend walks back into the room and whistles loudly.
“Damn, if you weren’t Bradshaw’s I’d be taking you home tonight babe.” You snort at her cheesy line and sit back down to pull on your equally as uncomfortable black heels.
As the finishing touch, you place the bunny ears onto you styled hair and check yourself out once again in the mirror. You looked hot.
You and Jake’s girlfriend make your way downstairs to where Jake had been sat waiting for you two to finish up. It hadn’t taken him long to create his signature Ken look, he sported an unbuttoned button up, blue chino shorts and loafers. It was all very frat boy of him.
Jake looked up from his phone and chuckled, “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes? Is Bradshaw still treating you right?”
You look to your right expecting to see your friend annoyed but instead she exclaims, “that’s exactly what I was saying baby!” And runs over to kiss him. God they were meant for each other.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Walking towards the entrance to the Hard Deck which had been appropriately decorated with pumpkins and other Halloween decor, you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of anxiety in your stomach. What if Bradley didn’t like your outfit? What if he was embarrassed to be seen with you in so little clothing?
Noticing your apprehension, Jake’s girlfriend grasps your hand and squeezes it reassuringly. Giving you a surge in confidence you push the door open. Jake greets Coyote dressed [read barely covered] as Tarzan and heads over to the bar top where Mav and Penny are dressed as Bonnie and Clyde serving people their drinks.
Scanning the room you spot your boyfriend draped in Jake’s robe with his back facing you, speaking to who you can assume is Phoenix who has some extremely detailed skeletal face paint going on. You smile at her as you make eye contact and her jaw drops. You see her say something to Bradley and he whips around to face you.
You make the final steps in their direction and greet your boyfriend somewhat shyly under his heated gaze.
“Hi.”
Bradley flicks the top of his hat up and places both his strong hands on your waist. He stares hungrily down at you feeling his dress pants tighten slightly. You feel your confidence rise as he drinks you in and go to speak again,
“Cat got your- mmph!”
Bradley interrupts your teasing by smashing his lips into yours. Phoenix chuckles, bringing you back down to earth. You pull away from Bradley breathlessly and smile sheepishly at her. She pipes up,
“I’m gonna need a drink after watching that borderline soft core pornography!” And with that she saunters off.
You bring your gaze back to Bradley with flushed cheeks both from the embarrassment of Phoenix’s comment and the intensity of the kiss.
“Bunny, you have no idea what you are doing to me.” Bradley whispers against you ear, his breath hot.
You turn on your heels slightly and wiggle your ass in Bradley’s direction, showing off the fluffy tail. Bradley groans, swearing under his breath and grabs you by the wrist.
“We are getting out of here.”
You pout as he pulls you from the crowds and stumble slightly on your heels. Bradley slows as he reaches the door to steady you and you speak.
“But we just got here!”
Bradley shrugs and squeezes your thigh, revelling in the feel of the fishnets on your smooth skin.
“Should have let me pick the costume then.” He speaks smugly.
You turn to make eye contact with Jake’s girlfriend as you’re pulled out the door and she winks before turning back to Jake. Once you’re out of sight of the Hard Deck Bradley picks you up over his shoulder fireman style and slaps where the tail meets the top of your behind. You laugh and wiggle in his grip as you see his phone light up with a notification in his pocket.
You pull it out to see a message from Jake.
bagman 🙄
for the love of god watch the robe
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
a/n: i had so much fun writing this request you had no idea lolll
brad brad loml let me dress up for you 😫
pls reblog and comment and tell me what u think !!!
thank u for the request and pls keep sending them in!!!
ty for reading :)
- honey <3
#top gun#top gun maverick#top gun movie#top gun fanfiction#bradley bradshaw#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw x you#rooster x reader#rooster x you#miles teller#top gun smut#bradley bradshaw x reader smut#rooster x reader smut#hangman#hangman x reader#jake seresin#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader#top gun rooster
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Seeing Double
Summary: Two weeks had felt like more than enough time to come up with something. And now you’re costumeless and in a panic less than a couple of hours before you’re supposed to be meeting your boyfriend’s closest friends. You’re ready to call it quits when you’re suddenly hit with a burst of inspiration.
Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Female Reader
Length: 6k
Warnings: fluff, allusions to smut, and Bradley Bradshaw in short-shorts (minors dni)
(This fic is a one-shot that is set before the Oh Christmas Tree, but you can read it on its own! Enjoy 🧡)
Looking at your closet, filled with everything and yet absolutely nothing, you’re beginning to realize just how totally and royally screwed you are.
The thing is you’d had time. More than enough time, in fact.
When Bradley had first invited you to go with him to this Halloween party, two weeks had seemed like plenty of time to concoct the perfect costume.
And then the more you’d thought about it, the more you’d overthought it, the more annoyed you’d gotten for overthinking it. A vicious spiral that not even hours of searching on Pinterest had helped to pull you from.
One that had left you costumeless for a party that was supposed to start in less than two hours with all of your boyfriend’s friends.
Fuck.
It was one outfit for one evening. You should probably be more concerned about Ciara from Marketing and her not-so-subtle scheming than what you were going to put on your body for the next five or so hours.
As you a sift through your perfectly color coordinated clothes, dragging hangers across the closet rod as if you’ve been personally victimized by the wardrobe you’d bought with your own money, you can’t help but wonder if you might have some self-sabotaging tendencies.
Bradley Bradshaw had snuck up on you when you were least expecting it. And what you thought was just going to be some summer fun had quickly turned into something more.
More often than not, you were thinking of him.
More often than not, he was texting you throughout the day.
More often than not, you were sharing a bed with him at night.
The last three, almost four, months had flown by in a summer haze and you liked Rooster more than any other man you had dated in the past.
You might even love him, but that was something you were keeping close to your chest for now. It felt too soon to be feeling the way you did about him.
He was more than just the pretty face and easygoing smile that had swayed you into giving him your number. He was more than just a fun night out and some no-strings-attached-yet-mind-blowing sex that you had tried to convince yourself it was.
He’d made it impossible for you to try and keep it casual in the way that he’d thoroughly swept you off your feet. You’d given up trying to keep him at arm’s length after your fifth date with him.
If you couldn’t beat him, you might as well join him. And so far, it was a gamble with your heart that was paying off.
Which was probably why you had given yourself the world’s worst mental block trying to figure out a costume to wear.
You’d met a few of his friends, like Natasha and Jake, during the nights he’d taken you to the Hard Deck. He’d told you that after one of their missions earlier in the year, the members on the squad had been in high demand. But this was the first time you’d be hanging out with them all at once.
So yeah, you were more than a little nervous about this evening.
And you didn’t just want to make a good impression, you wanted to absolutely charm and delight them. These people were so important to him, they were his family. They mattered to him and he mattered to you.
You pull out a black cocktail dress and debate whether you could pull together a Breakfast at Tiffany’s look with the pearls your grandmother had left you. It was a classic for a reason, right?
Or did it make you look like you were trying too hard? She was basically a callgirl after all.
The formfitting little dress goes back on the rack with a little more force than is necessary.
It’s just a causal get together, so why are your palms sweating?
You eye a silky pink slip dress and think about pairing it with one of your overpriced sleep mask. But you think you’d look less like you were flirty, thirty, and thriving and more like you forgotten to get dressed after rolling out of bed.
There are still a couple of cozy plaid button ups that you’d brought with you from home, but unless you carried around a roll of paper towels all night, it was an idea that might get you a more than a few perplexed looks. And there was nothing worse than having to explain your outfit for it to make sense to people.
Or worse, you’d be the one cleaning up spills all night.
You wanted your effort to look effortless.
Cool but not try hard. Thought through but not over the top.
You remember seeing some friend of a friend’s post from last weekend where she was dressed as Kim Possible. Green pants and a black top feel very doable. And she’d looked very cute and low maintenance, which was just the kind of vibe you were going for.
Remembering a pair of green khakis your sister had somehow talked you into the last time she came to visit, you go to your dresser and yank out the drawer you think they’d be in and toss it on the floor. You’re over trying to keep some semblance of order, that’s a problem for future you to deal with now.
Digging around in the pile, you will a flash of olive green to appear before your eyes. And when the items formerly nicely folded drawer and nothing but a heap of wrinkled, olive green-less chaos, you’re hit with the realization that the khakis that had seemed like a bad idea when you’d first gotten them had felt like a bad idea every time you looked at them and they’d ended up in the donation pile during your last closet purge.
You flop down and take in the carnage.
Half open drawers, random tops and skirts flung on your bed, the perfect rainbow of your closet now some technicolored disarray.
You’re almost afraid to pull out your phone to look at the clock, that pressure growing in your chest keeps getting worse. You can almost feel each individual second as they tick by. Glancing down you see that there’s a new message from Bradley, one that you missed in your frenzy to find something, anything to wear tonight.
Bradley, 9:52 AM: That wake up was worth the extra pushups I had to do for being late.
Bradley, 11:10 AM: Did I leave my shirt at your place this morning?
You, 12:22 PM: I’ll check when I get home and let you know. But I’m sure it’s there since I vividly remember the way you took it off last night.
You, 12:23 PM: And you only have yourself to blame for those pushups. (PS. I told you what time it was before I got in the shower, you were the one who invited yourself to join. PPS. I liked that thing you did with the shower head)
Bradley, 2:37 PM: As I said, worth it (PS pretty sure the only thing I heard you chanting was my name. Also I just ordered a new shower head for my place, one with a fancy handheld and everything)
You, 3:04 PM: I guess I’ll have to wake you up with my mouth more often then. (PS. just curious how many settings does it have? Asking for a friend.)
Bradley, 3:10 PM: Jesus Sweetheart, I’m up next to do a hop… (PS more than enough, and by enough, I mean 7)
You, 3:10 PM: 😘 (PS. can’t wait, I’m more than happy to product test)
Bradley, 3:11 PM: Yeah, I bet you are...
You, 3:11 PM: (Want to know the best part of working from home? I can get off any time I want. Have fun flying with that hard-on, Roos.)
Bradley, 3:12 PM: Baby, you’re killing me here
You, 3:12 PM: Fly safe ❤️
🔴 Bradley, 6:14 PM: Just got home, I can’t wait to see you tonight. What time should I pick you up? You might have to come down though, I don’t know if they’d let me in...
Skimming the previous messages from earlier in the day helps relieve some of the anxious energy that was thrumming in your veins. Because he’s just so Bradley.
He hadn’t been the only one who got to work late this morning. You’d actually worked from the office that day, but it had been more fun to tease him from your desk than draft the internal communications you were supposed to be working on.
The original plan had been to work a half day and then leave early and figure out your costume situation. But then you’d been pulled into an emergency PR meeting on your way out the door for one of the company’s biggest clients and had got home much, much later than you’d planned to.
You’d spotted Rooster’s shirt crumpled on the floor by the foot of your bed, from where he’d shucked it off the night before, the second you’d flown into your bedroom. Now it is carefully draped against the back of the soft blue tufted chair in the corner of your room. It was a colorful patchwork of beach themed vignettes in soft corals, teals, and dark blues. In addition to the palm trees and foliage, there were also planes and ships on it.
It was one of your favorites because you always felt like you were finding something new on it every time he wore it.
He’d told you once early on when you’d first gotten serious, after you’d teased him about his seemingly endless supply, that he’d even gotten curious one drunken night and looked up the resale value on some of his favorites and was shocked at the numbers. That it had taken him a month to put one back on because he didn’t want to ruin any of them on accident, now that he knew what exactly his father had left him.
You knew how much Bradley valued his collection, what they meant to him. You were even watching a few vintage ones in nice condition on Ebay to give him for Christmas.
Letting out a ragged sigh, you look back at the pile on the ground.
You’ve always prided yourself on being a problem solver. And the one time you needed to spring into action with a pivot plan is the one time you’re at a complete loss. You felt paralyzed by indecision and the kind of pressure that only you could put on yourself, which made everything that much more frustrating.
How you had kept the novelty six-pack tank top you’d taken home from a White Elephant exchange, but donated the green khaki pants was beyond you.
Out of the two, one would have been much more practical in this particular moment.
You pick it up off the floor and feel the fabric between your fingers. It was surprisingly soft for something that you’d expect to feel like sandpaper no matter how many times it got washed.
That tank top had never seen the light of day, yet always seemed to make it through your yearly purge unscathed. Probably solely on the fact that it made you giggle whenever you saw it. You always forgot about it, but it was a happy surprise when you pulled it out from where it was tucked away in the back of your dresser drawer.
You let it fall back onto the top of the pile.
Your thumbs hover over the keyboard of your phone as you try to figure out what to say to Bradley, as you look back and forth between your mountainous mess and the empty text box.
You know you could call him and he’d pick up before the third ring. You knew you could text him and he would reply the moment he could. And you know, if you told him you were stressed about meeting all of his friends and wanting to impress them, to impress him, that he would understand. He’d tell you- in that soothing way of his- to not worry about it, that you could just wear whatever made you comfortable, no costume necessary.
He’d probably even ditch his own so that you weren’t the only one there in normal clothes, even though he’d been dropping teasing hint about his for days now. He was so excited for tonight, you didn’t want to bring the vibe down before you’d even arrived.
You close your eyes and allow yourself a couple moments to reset.
What you wore didn’t matter. But whatever you wore, you were going to have a great time with Bradley and the people he cared about. And that was the only thing that mattered to you.
You could throw on your little black dress, or a red and white striped sweater with a pair of glasses, or some skintight leggings and a leather jacket. But it didn’t matter because it was all going to end the same way: with you tipsy and giddy and in Rooster’s bed.
Already feeling much better you open your eyes again.
You’re greeted again with those perfectly sculpted abs of that silly little tank top that still sits on top of the mound of clothes on your floor. But out of the corner of you eye, those cheerful colors adorning your chair in the corner wink out at you.
The glimmer of an idea settles over you like stardust.
It’s on that the more you sit with, the more perfectly solidified it becomes in your mind. Oh, you can see it so clearly now.
It’s an idea that makes you feel like you could bubble over in excitement.
You shoot off a quick text to Rooster and set about grabbing all the things you needed. You’d be a little late, but not terribly so. Fashionably late.
And you’re hopeful it’ll be worth the last-minute change of plans.
There was only one thing you needed that you didn’t already have, and you knew just where you’d be able to find it.
Just a quick little pit stop on the way to the party.
On your way to Bradley.
When Rooster parked in front of Fanboy and Payback’s place he shouldn’t have been surprised to see the Spanish-style house they rented together absolutely covered in every type of decoration imaginable.
He’d heard Reuben moan and groan about it enough over the last few weeks.
Halloween was Mickey’s favorite holiday and there was nothing more he loved than going all out on a theme. It didn’t matter if it was St Patrick’s Day or National Cheeseburger Day, he always committed.
They’d all be pulled into the argument about whether or not a faux body bag filled with empty bottles should be strung up on the front porch. Fanboy lost that one by a mere two votes. And Bob had been the one to broker the peace by suggesting they make some ghosts to hang up instead.
Dozens of glowing pumpkin lanterns hung from the trees outside and lined the pathway up to the front door. The bushes were wrapped in fibrous looking cobweb material as lights flickered and flashed underneath them. There was a fog machine hidden somewhere because wisps of smoke were curling and crawling along the lawn. Custom gravestones littered the yard along with a few well-placed plastic skeletons. The front of the porch was filled with more pumpkins of various sizes and shapes and colors as well as those truce ghosts and a few oversized bats swaying in the chilly October night breeze.
Rooster wasted no time letting himself in the glowing entryway, rubbing his arms as he hustled to get inside. Normally he ran warm, but he’d been covered in goosebumps from the moment he’d gotten out of the Bronco.
His costume had earned him more than a few wolf whistles when he had stopped to get gas. He’d simply shot them a wink and a smirk as he’d strut past them to go inside and pay.
He looked damn good.
But there was only one person he’d wanted to show off this outfit to.
He didn’t know how it was possible but the inside was even more decorated than the outside of their place was.
There were stands and strands of colorful string lights in black, purple, and orange strung across the ceiling covered by gauzy black fabric. There were more cobwebs covering every exposed bit of the walls and flameless candles lining the floor of the hallway. And there was a mix of eerie forest sounds playing under the Halloween party soundtrack that Coyote had been roped into making for the night.
Bradley follows the hundreds of little plastic spiders decorated the wall leading him to the living room. And almost collides with someone as he rounds the corner.
The shorter man he’d nearly taken out had on an overly bleached and spiked wig with a goatee and was wearing more neon orange flames than any one person should be allowed to wear.
They were both eyeing each other waiting for the other person to lob the first comment.
Rooster sees the way Mav’s cheeks are twitching as he takes in the length of the shorts he was wearing and just how much leg he had on display.
“Yeah, yeah. Let’s hear it, old man,” he snorts, reaching out and taking the drink from Mav’s hand and taking a swig from the mostly empty bottle before passing it back.
“Did they lower the drinking age and I missed the memo, kid?” Mav tosses back easily, pointing to Bradley’s clingy, red Rydell High School t-shirt. “Don’t need a Class A misdemeanor on my record, that file is already big enough on its own.”
“Laugh it up, Flavortown,” Bradley snorts, “You on your way out?”
“Yeah, just wanted to swing by for a minute before I go over to the Hard Deck to help Penny out for the night. She sent me with some treats too, they’re over on the table. Where’s your girl? I was hoping to see her before I left.”
“Oh, uh, she’s meeting me here. Said she got caught up in a last-minute meeting,” Bradley says rubbing the back of his neck. He was trying not to over think the text you’d sent him. “So what’s Penny dressing up as?”
Mav uses both hands and gestures to his costume, face flat.
“No shit,” Bradley laughs.
“Amelia hustled the both of us,” Mav says shaking his head fondly. “I’m telling you, kid, teenagers these days are a scary bunch.” He takes the last swig of his beer and passes the bottle to Bradley, patting him on the shoulder. “Make sure you and your girl try the candlestick cakes. The realistic ones are the ones that Penny made.”
“And the others?” Rooster asked with a smirk.
“Let’s just say I’m a better pilot than I am with a piping bag,” he says with a self-deprecating laugh. “Happy Halloween, Bradley.”
“See you on Sunday for brunch.���
He and his godfather exchange a hug before Pete strides out the door, giving him one more pat on the back before he leaves.
Rooster makes his way further into the living room and goes to check out the food situation and to grab a drink in hopes that it’ll help settle that anxious coil in the pit of his stomach.
He waves over to Fritz, Yale, and Omaha, who are dressed up as the Sanderson Sisters, as he makes his way to the dining room. Fritz has his arm draped over his wife’s shoulder who is dressed like a black cat and they’re all gathered around the keg in the kitchen like it’s a cauldron.
Under a display of floating candles, Fanboy and Payback’s dining table is filled to the brim with all kinds of party food. Breadsticks that looked like fingers, a charcuterie board being clutched by a skeleton, a carved pumpkin puking some kind of tasty looking dip, and rice krispies with an ungodly amount of red dye number forty wrapped up in plastic on Styrofoam trays. And of course, the candlestick cakes. It was obvious which one’s Penny had made and which were Mav’s handiwork.
He pops one in his mouth, making a mental note to text Penny about how good they are.
Off to the side there was a homemade cooler shaped like a coffin and a witch’s cauldron bubbling away with dry ice filled with something potent, if the patriotic punch from the Fourth of July was anything to go by.
He grabs one of the plastic syringes from the bowl that says free shots and sips it down easily, trying not to grimace at the ratio of tequila to cranberry cocktail, and then dropping the now empty syringe in the hazardous waste bucket that’s placed next to the bowl.
Checking out the inside of the cooler, he sees it’s been stocked with a good variety of beers and ciders, he even spots your favorite which he knows you’ll be excited about.
That is whenever you get here.
Bradley pulls out his phone from the back pocket of his tight-fitting shorts to see if there’s any new message from you yet.
No ETA, no update, no on my way. Nothing since his last text nearly forty minutes ago. He’s tempted to shoot you another one, but he doesn’t want to come across as overbearing.
Rooster knew you were a bit anxious about tonight, even though all his friends really liked you, but he was starting to think that maybe he might be deeper in this than you were. He was trying not to let his mind spiral about why you didn’t want him to pick you up, but the only thing he kept coming back to was that maybe you wanted a way to make an easy escape if you weren’t having a good time with him or his friends.
He was worried that you might have one foot out the door.
You’ve met most of his friends now, just at different times and never all at once.
After the Uranium Mission, their team quickly became very in-demand. Getting requests to join other training contingents, classified trials and testing of new tech in development, and smaller specialized missions. It’s very rare now that they’re all in the same place at the same time. It always feels like there’s always someone missing, they’re always going and doing.
His team has always been good about finding ways to let off steam.
Although, he’s been less frequently found behind the piano bench of the Hard Deck since he’s taking on a more starring role in your bedroom. His friends would tease him on base about keeping you to himself. But he wouldn’t apologize for wanting to spending all his free time with you than the people he already spent the majority of his days with. Bradley doesn’t want you to feel like he’s trying to keep you away from them, he just would rather soak up all of your attention than share you with everyone else.
He liked that you were his girl.
Sighing to himself, Rooster puts his phone back in his pocket and walks back out to the living room before anyone can accuse him of sulking.
Callie and her fiancée are dress up as Velma and Daphne and chatting away with Bob over by the fireplace that is filled with skulls and thick pillars of candles. Bob’s homemade chef’s hat is glowing lightly from the inside and showing the silhouette of a little rodent.
He watches as Fanboy in his Hamburglar costume heading over of the bathroom with a trash bag looking more than a little suspicious. Bradley is sure he has more than a few pranks up black and white striped sleeves tonight.
“Where’s your Sandy, Danny?” Nat asks, sliding up to him and passing him a beer.
“You know, I don’t actually know what she’s coming dressed as. She never gave me any hints,” he admits, taking a small sip as he takes in her costume. She’s got fluffy bunny ears on and her nose is painted pink. The only thing missing from her Lola Bunny ensemble is the basketball.
“Oh?” He can tell Phoenix is trying to school the surprise on her face. “I just figured with you wearing that and all.”
He just shrugs, his thumbnail picking at the label on the bottle.
Bradley had thought about floating a couple’s costume when he had invited you to come with him, but he pivoted at the last moment, not wanting to put pressure on you to agree to commit right away.
“Is she on her way?” Nat asks, looking at him out of the corner of her all too keen eyes.
“Hopefully, if she doesn’t change her mind,” he says ruefully.
“Why would she do that? Did you do something to piss her off?”
“Not that I know of. I know I’m reading into things, but I was supposed to go pick her up and she texted me last minute saying that she’d meet me here instead. And I don’t know what to make of it, it just isn’t like her.”
“Is that why you’re standing here look like a sad puppy? You know I’ve never been able to get through those ASPCA commercial without them getting my credit card information. Can I read the text?”
“Sure, have at it,” he says, unlicking and handing over his phone to her. “Uh, just the last few though.” He tacks that last part on quickly and she just gives him a pointed lift of her sharp eyebrow.
He feels dumb watching Nat skim the texts, he knows he’s overthinking things. But he also knows he’s not going to feel better about any of it until you get here and he can see your face.
“She said she’ll be here, Bradshaw. I don’t know how else you’re reading into this, but I imagine the mental gymnastics must be getting tiring.”
Bradley huffs a laugh, because she’s right.
As always.
“Yeah, I know,” he sighs, running his hands through his hair, “It’s just- I really like her, Nat.”
“Oh, we know. You moon after her with those big cow eyes all the time” she teases, nudging her elbow against his ribs. “But I’ve also seen the way she moons after you too, so relax.”
He can’t fight the small smile that works its way onto his face. The idea of you watching him the same way he knows he looks at you when you’re not looking at him makes his chest fill with warmth.
Nat peers around him and he spins to see who’s just arrived.
“Jesus, Rooster. Aren’t you worried about your dick falling out of those? They’re indecent,” Jake drawls, looking every inch the action hero he thinks he is.
“Please,” Bradley says with a roll of his eyes, “You wish you could pull these off, Bagman. If you got it, flaunt it.”
“I’m flaunting plenty,” Jake counters as he flexes. His shirt is unbuttoned all the way to the waistband of his pants. Although, Bradley is pretty sure Indiana Jones at least had sleeves. “Once your girl sees these abs she might be my girl by the end of the night.”
Seresin shoots him a wink and struts away, the plastic whip on his hip bouncing with every step. Rooster just shakes his head after him, watching as he high fives Javy, who is dressed as The Rock complete with a fanny pack and chain around his neck, in greeting by the sliding glass door that leads to patio.
“I still can’t believe you use to date him,” he ribs Nat lightly.
She plucks his beer out of his hand, claiming it as her own in retaliation. “Me neither,” she grunts, but he hears the hint of affection in her voice.
“Hey, you two look great! Do you need anything?” Mickey asks enthusiastically. His shifty eyes and overly wide smile instantly making Bradley edgy.
“Where’d that trash bag you had earlier go, Fanboy?” he asks warily.
“That’s for me to know and Javy to find out about later,” Mickey says slyly.
Rooster and Nat exchange a look.
This was the thing he was worried about when Cyclone had announced the news earlier in the week that they’d all tentatively have the next couple of months off through the new year. A well-earned break. No extra assignments. No extra transfers or additional training seminars.
Mav had told him in confidence that there was one small deployment that might get approved near Thanksgiving and that he was going to pull some string to see what information he could find out about it. Bradley was hoping that you might ask him to come home with you and meet your parents, so he had his fingers crossed that his name was left off that list.
The mood on base was already light. Mickey and Javy had started a series of pranks against each other that had slowly been escalating over the last few days. And Rooster knew that this extroverted bunch would be leaning in at full force and cutting loose tonight.
“Can you do me a favor, man? Can you hold off on the pranks for an hour, I don’t want you guys to scare her off the second she walks through the door.”
“She’s met us, she knows how we are.”
“I think that’s that point,” Nat quips.
“She likes us and we like her, so what’s there to worry about?” Fanboy asks rhetorically.
“Not all at once,” Bradley mutters.
“Lighten up, Rooster! I’m sure she’ll get here soon. In the meantime, go have some of the Potion of Peril punch that I made. I promise we’ll be on our best behavior. I won’t even ask her to grab something from the fridge for me,” Fanboy says that last part with a concerning laugh as he scurries away.
“You won’t what? Wait, Fanboy, come back,” Rooster calls after Mickey. He sees Payback dressed as Marty McFly coming down the stairs, and catches him. “Reuben, hey, what’s in the fridge?”
“Mickey has been collecting all of our empty jars for weeks now. He filled the damn fridge with jars of heads. It scared the shit out of me the first time I saw all of them. I haven’t been able to find the open container of mayo for days, and I’m tired of eating dry sandwiches.” Payback lets out the biggest sigh and rolls his eyes before he leaves them making his way over towards Coyote and Hangman still by the patio.
“See, Nat? This is what I’m worried about. We’re a lot, in more ways than one.”
Bradley pulls out his phone again, probably for the fifth time since he’s arrived and begins working on a text to send her. There’s nothing wrong with a little heads up and if he can get a little update from you then he’ll consider it a win.
“Well, if it ain’t Rooster,” he hears Hangman call out from across the room.
“We just did this, man,” he tosses back, not bothering to look up from his phone.
“Hey! Bradshaw’s girl has got a better set of abs than he does!” someone else calls out.
That gets his attention.
“What the fuck are you guys talking about?” he grunts irritably, as he tries to put his phone back in his pocket.
He doesn’t get a response because Phoenix is already turning him towards the entryway, the room erupting in a series of hoots and hollers as the rest of the party takes notice of your costume.
You’re shifting a little on your feet under the attention, there’s a small shy smile on your face and you have your pretty eyes already trained on him.
Hangman wasn’t kidding when he said you had a better set of abs than him.
You’re wearing a pair of frayed light blue denim shorts with a truly impressive screen-printed washboard stomach is on full display tucked into them. Over that you had on the Hawaiian print shirt he’d left at your place on accident this morning, it was one of his favorites with all its bright colors, along with a pair of sunglasses dangling from the pocket.
There was no mistaking who you’ve come dressed up as, not with that striking press-on mustache you were wearing.
It’s all he can do to just stand there and stare at you.
You’ve always been so damn beautiful, and even with a felt mustache on your face, you can make his heart pound away in his chest. Not to mention, he really likes the way you look in his shirt.
Your face lights up as you take him in too. Your eyes sweeping over his two-sizes-too-small shirt and the white short-shorts that left nothing to the imagination.
There is such fondness on your face he can’t believe how he’d let himself get so twisted in knots.
He forgets about all of his friends and their commotion as he struts over to you taking your face between his hands and kissing you. You make a little noise of surprise that he uses to his advantage to slip his tongue into your mouth.
When one of his friends catcalls them, he waves them off with one of his hands, and then drops it down to your ass to pull you in closer to him.
A flash goes off, the light bright behind his eyes.
He can feel the laughter bubbling out of your chest before comes out of your mouth, even he fights to tamper down his own amusement in favor of kissing you more.
Pulling away Bradley gently takes your chin between his finger and thumb turning your head left and right to admire your costume of choice, up close and personal.
“I gotta say, sweetheart, you’re really working that mustache.”
“I get your attachment to it. I think I wear it pretty well,” you say looking very pleased with yourself. You reach up and affectionately brush your fingers along his own.
He’d thought about shaving it off for the sake of his costume, but ultimately couldn’t go through with it. And now he’s really glad he didn’t.
“It’s not just that ‘stache you’re wearing well,” Bradley says low just for her, toying with the hem of his shirt draped on you. “You know I like the way you look in my clothes.”
He can’t help up enjoy the way you’re getting bashful under his appreciative gaze and compliments.
“I had to make sure you got the shirt back somehow,” you say with a smile.
“So it can end up on the floor of my bedroom instead?” he teases, kissing your cheek.
“I like the sound of that, and not just because my bedroom looks like a crime scene.” He cocks his head at you, but you just shake your own at him in response before continuing, “But I’m letting you know right now, the mustache is staying on when you have your way with me.”
“You have yourself a deal as long as you share your routine with me,” he murmurs, running a finger down the line of the faux abs of your tank top. “Can’t say I remember seeing these this morning in the shower. I’ve got a girl to impress, so I’d be happy to show you how grateful I am for any tips and tricks.”
“Think you’re doing just fine in those short-short of yours,” you reply, taking a step back to give him a thorough once over, “What inspired this eyeful of an ensemble?”
“I knew the shorts would make my ass look good,” he says with a shrug that send you into a fit of giggles. He’s ready to skip the party all together, in favor of appreciating how good you look outside of your costume. Your eyes are dancing with amusement and he finds himself wanted to admit more, “And because, you know…”
He thought his costume idea had been pretty witty, but now he felt a little sheepish because he didn’t want you to think he was being corny. Sure the shorts had been the thing that sealed the deal, but he’d picked good boy Danny Zuko for a reason.
“No, Bradley, I don’t think I do. Will you explain it to me?”
“Summer lovin’ happened so fast and all that.”
“‘And all that’, huh?” And there’s that look of your, he was absolutely putty in your hands when you looked at him like that. “Ok, ok, but I need to know,” you pause for moment, and look up at him with a very serious expression, “Did you have yourself a blast?”
He watches as you bite your bottom lip trying not to laugh at your own joke.
And in that moment, he just knows.
The sureness had been taking up residence in his bones since he’d first convinced you that trying to keep it casual with you wouldn’t cut it for him.
“Would now be a bad time to tell you that I love you?” he asks, threading his fingers through beltloops to pull you in closer to him.
“While I’m wearing a tank top with a six-pack dressed up as you? Seems a little narcissistic, does it not?” He’s never seen your smile this big or this bright before.
He knows. He knows. He knows.
Rooster pulls you back in for a deep kiss.
“I love you too, Bradley,” you murmur against his lips.
He kisses you until he can’t keep the smile off of his face.
“Hey, Bradshaw!”
Surprised, he pulls away from you to see Nat waving him over. He takes your hand, ready to take you over with him.
“No, not you. The better Bradshaw,” Phoenix announces as she points at you, crooking a finger and holding out a shot syringe for you.
You pull him to you, giving him one more quick before floating over to join Nat near the kitchen.
He’s feeling more than a little dumbstruck in that moment.
And not just from the sight of your shapely legs in those cutoff jean shorts.
Bradley’s feet feel cemented to the wood floors beneath his black hightop converse as he watches you throw your head back in laughter at something Nat says.
He doesn’t want to get ahead of himself, but he thinks his last name looks good on you.
You smile wide and beaming, your eyes shining as you turn to look at him from across the other side of the room.
Yeah, it looks really good on you.
Happy Halloween, Friends! This little moment has been living in my head since I posted my first ever fic on here, 'Oh Christmas Tree'! I'm so glad to finally release it to share with you! Thank you for reading!
If you want to find out what happened next for these two, just follow the link above!
If you're curious about what all of their costumes look like, you can see them here!
You can read more of my stories here!
Taglist:
@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @shanimallina87 @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader
#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw imagine#bradley bradshaw x female reader#bradley bradshaw x you#bradley bradshaw fanfiction#top gun imagine#top gun fanfiction#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley rooster bradshaw x you#bradley rooster bradshaw x female reader#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw imagine#rooster x reader#rooster x you#rooster x female reader
772 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
zxzejix69
The strongest loser u will ever meet...
helga-b-sonnenshine
Helga B
bodiesinourcellar
- - From here in you’re on your own. 🪦
mingjiemagnets
mjmagnets