#bradley rooster x oc
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The Forgotten Nest - Rooster
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw / Mitchell!OC (Cora)
Word Count: 3.1k
This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only
Warnings: Past Unplanned Teenage Pregnancy; Angst; Absent Father Figures; The 'He Didn't Know About the Pregnancy' Trope; Repeating Trauma Cycles (Teen Pregnancy, Absent Parents, etc.); Crying; Carole Would Be Disappointed; Named Mitchell Daughter OC (Cora) and Named Mitchell-Bradshaw Son (Nickie)
Summary: Years ago, Rooster left Cora Mitchell's life when her dad pulled his papers. And, unknowingly, he left behind something other than just his toothbrush.
A.N. There are references to a previous unplanned teenage pregnancy (between two eighteen-year-olds) in this fic. There won't be any flashback scenes to the pregnancy, but the references are still there, so if that makes you uncomfortable, please do not read.
Master List
Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Epilogue
Rooster walked out of the admiral’s office with his new orders clutched carefully in his hand. He kept his head held high as he walked through the narrow halls of the USS Gerald R. Ford, heading for his quarters to pack his bag and prepare to fly back to US soil. To Top Gun. To Miramar.
The Californian town had a lot of memories—some of the best and some of the worst of his life. It was the town where he lost his dad before he truly understood the gravity of it all. It was also the town where he spent his later years of high school after his mom died. Where he learned how to drive, where he graduated high school, where he had all of his firsts with a girl—now woman—whom he hadn’t seen since he stormed out of her life.
Cora Mitchell. Maverick’s daughter.
As a result of some poor decisions at nineteen, Maverick ended up with daughter only a few months younger than Bradley. Cora’s mom wanted nothing to do with her and even though Maverick was far from fit to be a father, he would have preferred falling down 100 flights of stairs than letting his child go into foster care.
Carole quickly offered to help raise Cora and help Maverick out. And as his mom used to call them, they were built in best friends. And in the later years of high school, they were a lot more than that. Sneaking into each other’s beds and spending the nights together was fairly regular and easy for them to pull off with Maverick’s bedroom on another floor.
Of course, then Maverick pulled his papers and then he left that life, and Cora, behind completely.
Rooster entered his room and shut the door behind him, heading for his bunk. His roommate wasn’t in, still doing drills with the rest of their squad, leaving Rooster alone with his thoughts. He opened the folder again, reading over the orders once more before he found his gaze shifting. Pulling out his personal bag, Rooster reached into one of the smaller pockets and pulled out a small photo preserved in laminate.
It was from a photo booth at Bradley’s senior prom. Cora sat on his lap, beaming at the camera as Rooster pressed a kiss to her cheek.
It was stupid to still be this curious about what Cora was doing with her life. After all, he was the one who broke up with her and stormed out of her life, saying all kinds of nasty things that he regretted the second that he said them. And he had to admit that he had scrolled through social media, trying to find a glimpse into her life, to no significant results.
All he knew was that she took some time off after high school and eventually graduated from nursing school. He assumed that she was still working as a nurse. And he knew that she now lived in or around Miramar. He didn’t have the guts to try and contact her when he was in town for Top Gun the first time around.
But maybe this new, and probably highly dangerous, mission would finally give him the kick in the ass to try and make things right with Cora. Even if it was just a simple apology, like a small ‘sorry,’ it would take away some of the guilt that ate away at his stomach every single time that he remembered her crestfallen expression and calls for him to come back.
Tucking the photo back into his bag, Rooster stood up and started to pack, letting his mind wander to what Cora’s life looked like now.
~~~~~
“Nicholas Peter Mitchell!” Cora thundered, marching towards the stairs, still dressed in her scrubs from work. “Get your butt down here now!”
Cora was only partially pleased to hear her son scrambling around, undoubtedly in the middle of some kind of panic due to her tone. She tapped her foot, able to picture her son’s exact expression of fear. She would have preferred that he simply told her ahead of time because then they could deal with it together, but he forced her hand by hiding it.
The sound of a door opening and a soft pattern of footsteps caused Cora to pick her head up. Her eyes narrowed when her son, Nickie, poked his head out from behind the wall with a sheepish smile. She shook her head when his expression gave away the fact that he knew exactly why she was upset. And that only caused her migraine to intensify.
“Hey, Mom. Did you have a good shift?” Nickie asked kindly, stepping out from behind the wall. “And did I mention that I love you and that you look more beautiful than usual today?”
Nickie, or simply Nick to his friends, was far from her twin. His hair was a light brown and curled at the end. His eyes were big and light brown, like someone she knew well in the past. The shape of his head and his cheekbones that were starting to emerge from the baby fat came from her side of the family, but the slope of his nose reinforced his father’s influence on his features.
But his sheepish, mischievous smile was definitely a Mitchell trait. Undoubtedly.
“When were you going to tell me that you got a speeding ticket?” Cora questioned, eerily calm despite her earlier yelling. “Today? Tomorrow? Next week? Never?”
“Mom, I already paid it off—”
“—When were you going to tell me?” Cora demanded, not amused. When Nickie fumbled for a response, Cora straightened up. “You have had your license for a month and you’ve already gotten a speeding ticket, Nickie. That’s not funny. You clearly do not understand that your car and your license are privileges, not rights.”
“It was at that speed trap under that highway pass on the way to school,” Nickie tried to explain, but Cora was not going to give him an inch of the moral high ground.
“I do not care where you got the ticket. I care that you were reckless behind the wheel of a motor vehicle. I care that you got a speeding ticket and now it’s on your record. And I care that you hid this whole thing from me.” Cora sighed, placing her hands on her hips and shaking her head at her son. “How much was it, Nickie?”
“Thirty bucks,” Nickie replied quietly.
“Well, then I think that thirty is an appropriate number of days to not need your car. And a good number of days to think about the importance of following traffic laws,” Cora stated, folding her arms over her chest. “Where are your keys?”
Nickie sighed and walked downstairs to grab his keys from the countertop. He quickly returned to his mother’s side and placed them into her open hand without a fight. Cora closed her hand and shoved the keys into her pocket.
“I’m serious, Nickie,” she stated softly, causing the teenager to turn back to her with doe eyes. “I don’t want you getting hurt. And speeding around, especially on these roads where there’s a thousand pedestrians and everything—it’s not safe. For you or anyone else.”
“I know, Mom. I’m sorry.”
“Thank you for having the maturity to realize that it was your bill to pay,” Cora offered her son in return, her tough exterior cracking just a bit. She rubbed her face tiredly. “And that’s probably what I get for letting your grandfather teach you how to drive.” Letting out a sigh, Cora dropped her hand from her face and turned back to Nickie. “How’s your homework coming?”
“Mostly done. I’ve got a test tomorrow.”
“Good.” Cora set her purse and the mail down on the countertop. “I’ll get started on dinner after I take a shower. Work on your homework and I’ll call you when I’m done.”
Cora walked into her bedroom and made a beeline for her on suite bathroom. Throwing her scrubs into her specified scrubs laundry bin, Cora quickly washed up from a long day at work. She changed into some comfortable clothes and a Navy sweatshirt before heading to the kitchen to start on dinner. The sun started to set in the distance as Cora waited for the chicken to cook.
The distinct sound of a Kawasaki caused her to look up from the oven, frowning with surprise. Walking over to the front windows, Cora was shocked to see her dad pulling into the driveway.
“What the—” Cora walked over and opened the front door, stepping out onto her front porch. “Dad? What are you doing here?”
“I thought that I would drop by since I was in town,” Maverick replied, setting up his kickstand and getting off his bike.
“Why are you in town? Not that I’m not happy to see you,” Cora added on, walking down to greet him. Maverick picked up the bag that he strapped to the back of his bike and pulled his daughter into a hug. But when she felt him wince, she instantly pulled back with a sharp, knowing look. “What happened now? What did you do this time?”
“Is that dinner that I smell?” Maverick asked, redirecting the conversation.
“You’re not getting out of this conversation,” Cora warned him, turning for her home and pulling the door open. “How many times do I have to tell you that you’re not twenty anymore? And could you at least wear a helmet once in a while?”
“Mom, who are you talking to?” Nickie yelled from upstairs.
“Your grandfather decided to drop by. Randomly,” Cora called back to her son.
A second later, there were a set of rapid footsteps echoing down the hall before Nickie appeared at the top of the stairs. His grin was immediately wide, showing the likeness between him and his grandfather, before Nickie hurried down the rest of the stairs to greet his grandfather.
“What are you doing in town?” Nickie asked, jogging over to Maverick.
“Well, I thought that it was a good idea to visit my favorite kid and grandkid once in a while,” Maverick joked, pulling Nickie into a hug despite his aching ribs
“Pops, I’m your only grandkid,” Nickie pointed out, frowning slightly.
“Still counts.” Maverick stared up at Nickie, jokingly inspecting him. “Did you get taller since the last time that I saw you? You look taller.”
“Maybe you’re just shrinking,” Nickie quipped, causing Maverick to turn to Cora.
“Don’t look at me,” Cora replied, gesturing to her own short stature. “Nickie over here got about three generations worth of height.”
Or, rather, he just had other genes to pull from when it came to height. And the men on the other side of Nickie’s family were all at least six feet tall, like Nickie was quickly shaping up to be. But not a single Mitchell in that household was going to bring that up.
Once dinner was finished cooking, the three Mitchells set the table and sat around, chatting and catching up since the last time that Maverick was in Miramar.
“I thought that you said that you wouldn’t be done with that project for a while,” Nickie stated, turning to his grandfather.
“Well, plans change,” Maverick replied noncommittally, glancing down at his plate.
“Because they were actually changed or because you felt the need to change them?” Cora deadpanned, cutting into her chicken.
“There might have been some . . . minor scheduling changes.”
“So, you’re not just visiting then,” Cora deduced, reaching for her drink. How she wished that it was wine instead of water.
“How long are you in Miramar for then?” Nickie asked excitedly, reminding Maverick painfully so of Bradley as a teenager.
“A few weeks. Somewhere around a month.”
“For what?”
“That’s classified,” Maverick replied, causing Nickie and Cora to roll their eyes in seemingly practiced sync. “I’d tell you, but—”
“—But then you’d have to kill us, yeah, we know, Gramps.”
“How’s school then? Still swimming and everything?” Maverick asked Nickie, changing the subject.
“It’s good. Swim doesn’t start for a few more weeks, but I’m trying to train before it. But I think I’m going to have to focus on running.”
“Why? Something wrong with the car?” Maverick questioned, looking concerned.
“No, just the driver,” Cora replied, setting down her utensils. “Nickie got a speeding ticket.”
“How bad?” Maverick asked, earning a sharp look from Cora. “I mean, that’s bad, Nickie. Don’t do it again. You have to get a little bit more driving experience before you start speeding.”
Cora sighed, holding her head in her hand for a moment as Nickie hid a smile behind his mouth. Maverick shot Nickie a joking smile before straightening up in his seat.
“But you’re doing good in school, Nickie?”
“Pretty well. Pre-calc is kicking my butt, but I think it’s supposed to get better.”
“Well, don’t be afraid to enjoy your teenage years a bit. Don’t go rushing off to try and grow up before your time,” Maverick replied, glancing over at his daughter for a moment. “Besides, I thought that you were going to try out for the surf team.”
“They want me to,” Nickie agreed, taking a bite of his dinner. “Mom’s a little scared to let me do it.”
“I just think that baseball is safer,” Cora replied softly, reaching for her drink. “Besides, between swim and water polo, you’re going to turn into a prune, Nickie. Not to mention that you go out sailing with Penny and Amelia all the time.”
“I just like the water, Mom,” Nickie stated, missing the pained expression on Cora’s face. “And besides, the baseball coach is an asshole.”
“Language,” Cora stressed, causing Maverick to chuckle.
~~~~~
After dinner, Nickie excused himself to finish up his homework. Cora and Maverick worked together to clean up after dinner and to set up the spare room for Maverick to sleep in while he was in town. But after the finished up the housekeeping, the father and daughter sat out on the back porch. Cora poured herself a glass of wine for the conversation and brought Maverick a beer.
“So, why are you really in town?” Cora asked, sitting down.
“Ice called me in,” Maverick stated, causing Cora to grow more serious instantly. “It’s a mission.”
“And not just any mission . . . is it?” Cora questioned, though she already knew the answer.
Ice wouldn’t have called Maverick in for just your run of the mill mission. This was a serious mission, that was certain. And that instantly caused Cora’s blood pressure to spike in an instant. Ice wouldn’t have called Maverick in unless it was something bordering on a suicide mission.
“No, it’s not,” Maverick agreed, nodding solemnly.
He looked away from his daughter for a moment, a rock settling in his stomach. It had been sitting there since a familiar face flashed on the screen in that conference room. But he knew that he had to unload it sooner rather than later.
To say that Maverick’s perspective on Rooster was complicated did not quite do it justice.
On one hand, as Cora’s father and Nickie’s grandfather, there was nothing that Maverick wanted to do more than to grab Rooster by his ear and give him the lecture of the century about responsibility and putting his personal emotions to the side to be a man and a father. Hell, if it was any other boy who did that to Cora, Maverick would have strapped him to the outside of the Darkstar and done a couple laps around the Earth.
But, on the other, as Goose’s wingman and the man who tried to raise Rooster, Maverick wanted Rooster nowhere near Miramar or this mission. Hell, Maverick did what he could to make sure that Rooster stayed as far away from a cockpit as possible. And that side of Maverick just wanted Rooster back in his life, safe and far from danger.
But being Cora’s father and Nickie’s grandfather was always the side that won out in the end.
“There’s something else,” Maverick began, causing Cora’s eyebrows to furrow with concern. “He’s involved in the mission.” Cora noticeably tensed up as Maverick added, “He’s here.”
“In Miramar?” Cora asked quietly, earning a nod from her dad. Sighing, she held her head in her hands for a moment. “Fuck.”
“Did you tell Nickie—”
“—No,” Cora interjected, cutting Maverick off. “No, I didn’t.” Not . . . not the whole story." She stared out at the backyard, out at the little swing set that Maverick and Ice built for Nickie on a warm afternoon so many years ago. “He’s supposed to be out in the middle of the Atlantic right now.”
“And I’m supposed to be in the Mojave.”
Nickie sat with his back to the wall, silently listening in on his mom’s conversation with his grandfather. He knew that it was wrong and he knew that he was already on thin ice with the speeding ticket, but he knew that his mom and his grandfather went outside to talk where he couldn’t hear them. But his mom always seemed to forget that the bathroom window was right above the patio.
“Have you seen him yet?” Cora inquired quietly, causing Maverick to nod slowly.
“Yeah, I did. Briefly. At the Hard Deck.”
“Did he see you?”
“I don’t think so, no,” Maverick replied, shaking his head.
Cora let out another sigh and held her head in her hands again. Maverick quickly got up from his seat, setting aside his beer and pulling his daughter into a tight hug. Cora latched onto her dad, trying to calm herself down and not shed anymore tears over Bradley Bradshaw.
But she failed. Just like she did the last thousand times.
Nickie clenched his eyes shut and curled his hands into fists. His mom was the strongest person that he knew. Life threw a thousand things at her and she somehow always managed to keep herself and him on their feet. But the second that anyone brought up his dad, she always flipped a switch.
She always broke down or went into absolute survival mode until something else snapped her out of it.
Nickie stopped asking about his dad when he overheard his mom sobbing to Penny in the middle of the night about how his dad still wouldn’t return her calls. It happened years ago, nearly a decade now, but it was still fresh in his mind. Burned there for the rest of his life. And, well, if his dad couldn’t even give his mom three seconds of his life, then Nickie wouldn’t give him an ounce of energy either.
And, hell, Nickie was a mama’s boy. And anyone who made his mom cry was dead to him. Dad or not, the fucker who never showed up for him or his mom was dead to Nicholas Peter Mitchell.
Whoever the hell he was.
Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Epilogue
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Say My Name
Requested: no
Summary: You find out just how big Bradley is. He really does live up to his call sign.
Word count: 3.4k
Note: banner by @lewmagoo
Warnings: smut, oral sex (f!recieving), fingering, anal fingering, size kink, overstimulation, unprotected sex, cum play. Please let me know if I missed anything!
Pairings: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x fem!reader
The air in the bedroom was filled with tension. You were on your third glass of wine and Bradley had just begun pouring his second. Nerves surged through you. Tonight, you were planning on having your first time with Bradley. While the two of you had been dating for nearly seven months, you had yet to sleep together. The thought had you nervously fiddling with the hem of your short skirt.
Bradley had made the two of you a nice dinner before leading you to his bedroom. Despite how much you wanted this, you couldn’t settle the butterflies in your stomach. Sure, you had slept with others before Bradley. However, given the things that you had heard about him from his fellow pilots, you felt more nervous than usual as you stared at the gold chain he was wearing. You had done some sexual stuff with the pilot before, but you had yet to see what he was packing. Honestly, that was what had you the most nervous.
No matter how hard you tried to ignore the teasing from the rest of his squadron about his size, you simply couldn’t. Not when Jake kept making crude remarks about his callsign having some sort of double meaning and teasing you about what he saw in the locker rooms. You could never get away from it. Now, you couldn’t help but find yourself staring at the bulge straining in his jeans.
His deep chuckle was what broke you out of your trance. “See something you like, Princess?” There was a teasing lilt to his voice. You blushed deeply, sipping the last drop of wine from your glass. “C’mere.” He rasped. Instantly, you obeyed, crawling into his lap and straddling his thick thighs. His glass was set on the nightstand before his hands came to sit on the tops of your thighs.
The tickle of his mustache as he peppered kisses across your neck had you squirming in his lap. You clenched around nothing at the guttural groan he let out. From where you were sitting right now, you could tell he was big. Moaning quietly, you nearly melted when Bradley gripped your hips and pulled you down closer to his growing bulge.
“Bradley,” You moaned out with barely concealed need. Another grunt was released into your neck. “Fuck,” Panting with your head tossed back, the feeling of Bradley’s lips travelling down your chest had you shivering. “I need you. Please.” It was the neediest sound you had ever made in your life.
Time seemed to stand still as Bradley lifted you off his lap. You whined at the loss of warmth before laid you down on the bed and crawled on top of you. Cooing quietly at your pitiful whine, the pilot smirked at your frantic state. As Bradley continued to kiss down your neck, your chest was rising and falling quickly. “I’m gonna make you feel real good, baby girl.” His words were a promise; one that you knew he would make good on.
Your blouse was slowly unbuttoned as Bradley peppered kisses across your soft skin. When he finally reached the last button, you were out of breath, panting loudly. Now, you were left in nothing but your lacy bra and short skirt. Unbeknownst to Bradley, you had nothing on under that skirt. Feeling Braldey’s mustache tickling the sensitive skin of your stomach had you wanting to giggle. But the pleasurable warmth in your core had you moaning out instead.
Next, Bradley began massaging your thighs, shimmying further down the bed until he was level with your thighs. You breathed in deeply, nerves rearing their ugly head again. Ever so slowly, Bradley reached under you and pulled the zipper of your short skirt down. It took every fibre of your being to focus your breathing. Bradley had eaten you out before, but knowing what would be coming after had you shaking.
Your legs parted enough so that Bradley could slot in between them, knees bending and feet planted firmly on the cool sheets. Before you even realized what was happening, Bradley had your legs tossed over your shoulder and he was softly nipping the sensitive insides of your thighs. When Bradley lifted his head, he was met with the sight of your bare, puffy cunt. He groaned loudly, his cock managing to harden even more in his tight jeans.
Seconds later you were met with the feeling of Bradley’s tongue running over your slit delicately. Instantly, a sharp cry escaped you. Tangling your fingers in your boyfriend's curly hair, you tugged when his lips sealed around your clit. The feeling had you arching off the bed, your heels digging into the pilot’s back.
For the next few minutes, the only sounds that could be heard in the room were your loud, wanton moans and the lewd sounds coming from between your legs. Bradley’s tongue was now prodding against your entrance, teasing you relentlessly. You found it hard to breathe as cry after cry escaped you. Slowly, your high began building. When two of your boyfriend’s thick fingers pushed meticulously inside your weeping cunt, your back arched so hard off the bed, Bradley had to pause to make sure you were okay.
The grin on his face when he heard your needy whines was nothing short of devious. Without hesitation, he returned to sucking on your clit and working his fingers in and out of your slick entrance quickly. “Oh!” You cried out from the delicious
Bradley was relentless. His thick fingers stretched you open deliciously, making a scissoring motion as he licked around your greedy hole. Your moans slowly grew higher and higher in pitch. Outside of your field of vision, Bradley brought his other hand up and between your legs. The sudden press of his thumb against your tight, puckered hole had you nearly screaming. “Oh, my god.” The words were slurred together. That familiar coil in the pit of your stomach was almost ready to snap.
The tip of his thumb suddenly slipped into your tight hole, creating a delicious pressure. More slick leaked from your slit. As Bradley’s fingers kept up their pace inside of your puffy cunt, the squelching sound got louder the wetter you got. There wasn’t a single coherent thought in your mind as Bradley’s thumb pushed further into your ass, his fingers stretched apart even further and his lips sealed around your clit. All at once, he sucked on your clit harshly, pressed his fingers into your sweet spot, and pressed his thumb in as far as possible.
You were so close. In a few seconds, you would be gushing around his fingers. “Bradley,” You panted, fingers gripping his brown locks like a lifeline. “Stop.” He froze instantly, eyes snapping up to meet yours. His fingers slowed until they stopped and his thumb moved to draw back. But when you whined at the sensation in your puckered hole, he stopped his movements altogether.
“Honey?” He started, rubbing your thigh softly and smearing your slick on your smooth skin in the process. “What’s wrong.?” It was whispered into the soft skin of your stomach The tickle of his mustache against your stomach had you giggling. Even though your core was clenching around nothing and you could still feel his finger moving slowly inside your ass. Regardless of the worry bubbling in his chest, Bradley smiled at the sound of your laughter.
You offered him a blissed-out smile, moaning softly at the movements of his thumb. “Nothin’,” At those words, Bradley slipped his fingers back inside of your dripping cunt. You were so wet that there was zero friction as he pushed them in until the second knuckle. You were instantly whiny again. “Wait,” You tried again. This time, Bradley only slowed his ministrations. “I wanna come on your cock.” The widest grin you had ever seen broke out on your boyfriend's face.
Teasingly, he leaned down and allowed his tongue to flick over your clit. A chuckle escaped him. You had no idea what you were in for. “Honey,” There was a teasing lilt to his voice. “You’re gonna need at least two before I even think about letting you cum on my cock.” His words caused you to let out a shuddering breath. Sure, you knew that he was big. After all, you couldn’t go anywhere without someone reminding you of that fact. But his words caused you to wonder just how big he was.
Before you could snark back, his thumb pushed in as far as it could and his lips sealed around your clit. Crying out again, your heels dug further into Bradley’s back and you pulled so hard on his curly locks you thought that some of the hair would come out. Instead, he groaned and began slurping harder. Within seconds, you were gushing around his fingers, cuming so hard you could have sworn you saw stars.
As you were coming down, Bradley drew his thumb from your ass and pulled his sticky fingers from your core. Your cum slowly dripped down your opening. Once you were coherent again, your eyes slowly looked down at Bradley. He was transfixed on the sight between your thighs. The tip of his index finger slowly began to swirl through the creamy mess between your thighs. It dipped shallowly into your opening and scooped out some more of your cum.
The overstimulation was almost becoming too much for you. Now, Bradley’s finger was swirling your cum around your sensitive clit. Your whines were breathly, so much so that Bradley could hardly hear them. Nevertheless, he continued, drawing moan after moan from your parted and chapped lips.
Within minutes, you were right on the brink again. Feeling that delicious pressure building faster than ever, you shifted your hips until Bradley’s face was, quite literally, buried in your slick cunt. As you tipped over the edge for the second time in a matter of minutes, Bradley stared at your expression in awe.
Your legs were shaking. So much so that Bradley was almost convinced he went too far. But when your eyes fluttered open, Bradley could see the pure pleasure swimming in your eyes. “How was that, Honey?” There was a low timbre to his voice as the coarse hairs of his mustache rubbed against your smooth thighs. Your breathing was heavy and your fingers couldn’t stop twitching, but you had never felt better. So that was exactly what you told him.
“That was amazing,” You sat up, half expecting Bradley to push you back down and pull another orgasm from you. Crawling up your body, one of your boyfriend’s large hands rubbed at your side before grabbing your tit. A soft moan escaped you before you grinned up at the pilot. “But, I think you know that I want something else.” Your words were punctuated with a soft squeeze of his rock-hard cock.
The groan that he released was nearly primal. With one last passionate kiss pressed to your lips, he slowly, almost teasingly, unbuttoned his jeans. Then, he peeled his black boxers off his toned and muscular thighs. Your eyes were fixed between his legs, not blinking as you came face to face with his sheer size. “B-Bradley,” You stuttered, beginning to shake slightly. Snapping your eyes up to meet his, your boyfriend had a smug grin on his face. “There’s no way that that’s going to fit.”
The chuckle that escaped him was nearly mocking. “Yes, it will.” Those were the last words he spoke before he was leaning over you again. His hard cock rubbed into your thigh while he was sucking dark marks that contrasted against your unblemished skin into the side of your neck.
After a few minutes of nothing more than kissing softly, Bradley finally pulled back. His hands were warm as they rubbed softly over your sides, an attempt to soothe you that didn't go unnoticed. “Are you ready, baby?” Regardless of the fact that you couldn’t tame the nerves fluttering in your stomach, you nodded. With a smile, he kissed your forehead. Against your skin, he whispered that he was going to get a condom and the lube.
You stopped him. For the first time tonight, you felt one hundred percent prepared for what was about to happen. “No,” Bradley looked at you confused, wondering why you had changed your mind. Kneeling next to him, you placed one hand on his bare chest, stroking the tanned skin softly. Seductively, you whispered in his ear. “No condom. I wanna feel you.” You were on the pill, and you knew that both Bradley and yourself were clean.
His breathing seemed to stop and then there was a wide smile on his face. You squealed when he kissed you passionately, laying you down on the bed and leaving you breathless as he disappeared in search of lube. The sight of his bare backside walking away had you giggling dreamily. When he returned from the bathroom, you were met with the sight of his shockingly large cock between his legs. At that sight, you didn’t laugh as much.
For the next few seconds, you and Bradley were quiet. Soft touches were shared between the two of you before your boyfriend pulled back once more. His fingers dipped between your legs, checking to see just how wet you were. A soft moan escaped you as he swirled your slick around your clit. The next thing you knew, you could hear the cap of the lube snapping open. Suddenly, you felt the cold drop running down your slit. A hiss escaped you before Bradley slipped his fingers into you once more.
The next few minutes were spent with Bradley opening you up even further than you already were. You could feel that familiar pressure building once more. But, instead of Bradley leading you over that delicious edge, he stopped right as you were about to tip over. You groaned.
With a chuckle, Bradley slowly crawled up your body. “You ready, baby?” You could only nod, wanting nothing more than for Bradley to be seated inside of you. As he poured some more lube onto his hand, you got a sinister idea. The thought had you smirking. However, you were stopped in your tracks as you watched Bradley wrap his hand around his thick cock. His fingers couldn’t even touch.
For the first time tonight, you found yourself focusing on his cock. It was long, longer than you had seen before and curved toward the end. His tip was an angry red colour and as he stroked himself, you could see the pre-cum leaking down his shaft. Your eyes traced the vein that ran up the bottom before your eyes snapped up to your boyfriend’s. He had caught you red-handed.
Now, you decided to act on your plan. Before Bradley could realize what was happening, you had flipped him over and were straddling his thick thighs. He looked up at you in shock. With one hand, you gripped his cock and with the other you stabilized yourself against his chest. Biting your lip, your eyes locked with his as you began to stroke him. After a few seconds of building up your courage, you slowly sank down on him. Your warm and slick cunt sunk down onto his fat, mushroom tip with hardly any resistance.
Within the first few seconds, you were a moaning mess. There was less than two inches inside of you and you were already losing your mind. You couldn’t even begin to fathom taking the rest of him. Bradley could sense that you were struggling, so, your boyfriend’s hands gripped your hips. Slowly, he helped you sink down onto him. The breath rushed from your lungs in a matter of seconds. Now, you were just over halfway down Bradley’s cock and you felt like you were being split in half.
“That’s it, Princess,” He encouraged you as your greedy cunt swallowed another inch of him. “Doing so good.” With careful movements, he pulled you down until your head was resting on his chest, the steady sound of his heartbeat under your ear. Ever so slowly, Bradley pulled down your hips until they were flush with his. The second he was fully seated inside of you, you let out the most pornographic moan Bradley had ever heard.
One of his hands grabbed your ass and the other cradled the back of your head. The next few minutes were spent with Bradley simply letting you adjust to his size. His sheer girth had you whining quietly against his skin, sticky with sweat. After about four minutes, Bradley planted his feet and shifted slightly. That caused the tip of his cock to press right against your sweet spot. Once again, you couldn’t help but moan loudly.
Ever so slowly, your boyfriend began rocking into you. With each thrust, Bradley would only pull himself out a little bit, leaving the rest of his pulsing cock stuffed inside of you. Then he would push back in, filling you to the brim once more. The feeling of his mushroom tip hitting your spot over and over again had you seeing stars. “Say my name.” It was more of a command than a request.
“Fuck, Bradley!” You cried out, hips beginning to raise and fall of their own accord. He grunted hips smacking into yours as he fucked you.
You grunted, feet planted firmly against the bed as he pistoned his weeping cock into you. “No,” He taunted, slowing his thrusts until he was hardly moving. “Not that one.” The realization of what he wanted you to do was almost enough to make you cum.
“Oh my god,” You rushed out, fist forming as you curled into his chest further. “Rooster!” It was almost a scream. The way the words rushed out of you so fast, Bradley was almost concerned. Almost. “Rooster, please. Please fuck me.” At that, Bradley moaned. He had never heard such a sweet sound as you begging for him to fuck you. It was music to his ears.
Loud moans and grunts filled the room as Bradley began to thrust harder and deeper. Now you were clinging to him, puffy cunt stretched out more than you ever would have thought possible. Your boyfriend gripped your hips harshly, raising you up on his thick cock before slamming you down onto him. That sent a sharp cry out of you, your face turning until it was buried against his chest.
Suddenly, your whole body tensed. Bradley, once again, had slipped his thumb into your tight ring of muscle. The moan that you let out was nearly a scream. Feeling his thick cock in your dripping core and his thumb pushing into your ass sent you reeling. “Imagine what my cock would feel like in this tight, little ass of yours.” He punctuated his words with a hard thrust. His thumb slipped out of your ass seconds later. The fucked-out look on your face wasn’t going away anytime soon.
This pattern continued for the next few minutes until Bradley's thrusts began growing erratic. You were so, so close. All you needed was a little bit more and you would be falling into blissful pleasure. Bradley gave you that little bit more in mere seconds.
His thumb pressed hard against your clit, rubbing the small pearl in circular motions. You found yourself clenching around him with your eyes rolling back. There was an obscene amount of your sweet release leaking out around your boyfriend’s thick cock. He held you carefully as you slowly came down from your high.
Before you had time to recover, however, your boyfriend was pumping his cum into you, thick, white ropes painting your walls. You shuddered at the foreign feeling. Regardless of the other guys you had been with before, you had never let any of them do what you and Bradley just did. His cock was still throbbing inside you. The feeling almost had you cumming again.
Ever so slowly, Bradley lifted you off his softening cock. It had you whining and whimpering. You clenched around nothing, his cum starting to leak out of you. It dripped onto his lap as he pulled your hips up. You were breathless as he set your hips down on his thigh, your cunt clenching desperately at the pressure suddenly placed on your clit. His arms wound around your stomach, holding you tightly against his sweaty chest.
In less than five minutes, you were drifting off against his chest, feeling his warm cum still dripping out of your puffy and abused cunt. Needless to say, the next day, you were walking with a limp.
a/n: Thank you for reading! Requests are open :)
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#top gun#top gun fanfiction#top gun x female reader#top gun x reader#top gun fluff#top gun maverick#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw fic#bradley bradshaw fanfiction#bradley bradshaw x y/n#bradley 'rooster' bradshaw#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw fic#bradley bradshaw smut#bradley bradshaw#bradley bradshaw imagine#bradley bradshaw x oc#bradley bradshaw x female reader#bradley rooster x reader#rooster fanfic#rooster fics#rooster x reader#rooster imagine#rooster smut#rooster x y/n#bradley bradshaw fan fic#bradley bradshaw x you#bradley bradsaw x reader#bradley bradshaw fluff
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actually, it’s captain.
Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x f!reader
summary: request for @kpopgirlbtssvt. rooster’s girl is hit on by Top Gun students.
t/w: touch her, you d i e trope. cursing. mentions of alcohol.
Rooster leans against the bar, laughing at something Penny tells him. His jeans hang low on his hips, and he’s wearing the Hawaiian shirt you bought him for his birthday.
Rooster’s hand slaps the bar as he continues to howl. Penny and Mav exchange a look. Maverick murmurs something to Penny. Your guess would be “it wasn’t that funny.”
You throw back the rest of your drink. As your glass returns to the table, a group of men circle you, all clad in khaki. Must be new Top Gun recruits.
“What’s a pretty little gal like you sittin’ here alone for?” one of them asks you, his accent very similar to Hangman’s.
“Mind if we join ya?” the second asks. Before you can reply, two of the slide in across from you, while the one who spoke first sits next to you. His burly arm comes up around your shoulder. You stiffen under him, feeling small.
And not in the way you feel with Rooster. He makes you feel small, protected, but also empowered. This guy has a hold on you like he’s claiming you. Telling every other guy in the bar he plans on taking you home.
“This here’s Crane and Sorry,” he points to the two in front of you. “And you can call me Pleasure. As in, it’s a pleasure to meet you. As in, the way all ladies feel after a night with me.” He winks. He actually winks.
Your brain is so shocked, you can’t form words. You should take this guy’s arm and bend it behind your back, the way your dad taught you. You should give him on of your grade-a verbal lashings.
But you don’t. The sheer audacity of this man has you frozen.
You try to make eye contact with Rooster, but Pleasure’s frame blocks your view.
“Get your hands off my girlfriend, asshole.” Rooster’s voice makes a relieved breath come from your mouth. His tone of voice would make anyone run for the hills, but it leaves you full of wanting.
Pleasure chuckles, meeting Rooster’s gaze. “Actually, it’s Lieutenant.”
Crane and Sorry exchange an amused look. Rooster’s face is set in a hard line. He reaches for Pleasure’s bicep, ripping him from the booth.
“I said to get your hands off my girlfriend, asshole.” Rooster is a whole head taller than the aviator that just had himself draped on you.
“Shouldn’t leave your girl all alone, dick.” Pleasure tells him, bowing up. Rooster’s mouth pulls up on the left, giving him one of his infamous cocky smirks. Second only to Hangman’s.
“Actually, it’s Captain. And I hope to God you’re in one of my classes. Lieutenant.”
At this, you see Pleasure audibly gulp, knowing he’s fucked up. Rooster still has a death grip on his arm.
“Come on, man. Make my day,” the words come out laced with venom.
Before things can get out of hand, you hop out of the booth and high tail it to Penny. Quickly giving her a synopsis, she rings the bell, signaling these guys need to be thrown out. Hangman, Omaha, and Coyote each grab one of the guys and drag them to the exit.
Rooster joins you at the bar, taking your face in his hands. Those brown eyes roam over you, searching.
Your hands come up to cradle his face, “Roos, I’m fine.”
“When I saw him draped over you, I saw red. Nobody touches my girl.” He leans down to place a kiss against your temple. Rooster’s words have your toes curling in your shoes. You’ve never seen this side of him.
You lower your hands to his shoulders, threading one of them in his curly hair that’s definitely longer than Military regulation.
“You’re the only one I want touching me,” you murmur in his ear, your face flushing.
“Yeah?” he murmurs back.
Not trusting your voice to not come out completely needy, you nod.
“Come on, guys. Quit being disgusting,” Maverick says to the two of you, feigning gagging.
Penny pops his hand over the bar, eliciting a laugh from him.
Rooster ignores him, placing a deep kiss onto your mouth.
“Take me home, baby,” you say, taking in those brown eyes.
“I don’t know, pretty girl, I don’t think I can get further than the Bronco,” he winks.
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The Over/Under
Summary: Your friends insisted that the best way to get over someone was by getting under someone else. But you had been over your ex for a long time before you ever signed the papers, and you had no intention on hooking up with anyone. Then an attractive man with a mustache that really shouldn't look as good as it does catches your eye, and you suddenly forgot why you were hesitant in the first place.
Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Reader (no use of y/n)
Word Count: 6.2K
Warnings: Language, smut, talks of divorce
Notes: Written as a fun little surprise for my best gal @roosterforme for her birthday today, because what better gift is there than porn shared amongst friends, am I right?
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“What about him?”
“No way. I can practically feel that guy’s ego from here.”
“Him?”
“He looks like he’s barely old enough to be here.”
“Okay, what about him?”
“Hmmmm. Oooh. He’s cute. Hey, I think we found your guy!”
The words were followed by an excited jab to your side, and you hissed out an “ow” as you swatted the hand that had done so. Your best friend wasn’t phased in the slightest as she grinned at you, her eyes already a little glazed from the tequila shot you had taken upon getting to the bar - the very patriotic, very uniform filled bar, that was not your normal stomping grounds by any means.
Not for the first time since arriving a little less than thirty minutes ago, you huffed out a breath of disbelief. “Isn’t tonight supposed to be about celebrating being single again? Why are you trying to scope out guys for me?”
“Because what better way to get over someone than by getting under someone else?”
You couldn’t help but snort into your drink as you took a long sip. Truthfully, you had been over your ex-husband for a long time now. The divorce was nothing more than a logistical means to an end, which the bastard had dragged out for far longer than it needed to be. You had felt single for damn near years at this point, but as of earlier this week, you were legally so, as well. Finally.
“And what if I want to be on top?” you dared to ask, raising a challenging eyebrow. “What then?”
Your friends all burst into laughter, talking over one another as they weighed the merits of your question, unsurprisingly veering off into debates about the best positions for maximum pleasure. You rolled your eyes fondly, but tuned them out as you let your eyes scan the crowd. It was apparently their mission tonight to get you laid, which you honestly should have caught on to as soon as they had thrown a brand new lingerie set at you earlier that night. It was strappy and lacy in all the right ways and you hadn’t hesitated to put it on under your tiny black dress because it had made you feel good. Sexy, even. You deserved to feel that way just for you, so you had thought nothing of it. Now, though, their insistence made sense.
Pure curiosity had you looking in the direction of the man they had been trying to point out. He had that classic All-American look to him, all blonde hair and dimples, and you could see his shiny white teeth from across the bar as he laughed with his friends. He was cute, you supposed, and everything that your type used to be. But now he reminded you a little too much of your newly-made ex-husband, and you felt nothing as you looked at him. You let out an internal sigh as your eyes shifted to the left.
You paused, your head cocking to the side as you took in the man sitting beside him. Now he…oh, now he was something. He was very something. He was handsome in a way that was different from your usual type. He had dark, tousled hair that curled on his head, and a mustache that you’d normally find hideous but that only served to enhance his very attractive look. His features were sharp, with a strong jawline and eyes that you couldn’t quite make out the color of from this far away. He was dressed casually in jeans and a ridiculous looking Hawaiian shirt over a plain tee. Just like the facial hair, it was a combo that you were sure would look ridiculous on anyone else - like the pretty boy sitting beside him - but that he was somehow pulling off. Something about him seemed to exude confidence without being cocky, and it was intriguing.
You took another sip of your drink, feeling your heartbeat a little faster with strange anticipation. In principle, you had been single for a long time now. You weren’t planning anything tonight, but you also hadn’t felt that familiar tingle in your tummy since before you got married.
Your thoughts were interrupted as your friend jabbed you in the side again. "Cute, right?” she asked eagerly.
You shook your head, your gaze still fixed on the handsome stranger. "No, not him," you said, your voice low. "The one next to him.”
Your friends followed your gaze. "Oh, damn," one of them breathed out, her eyes widening with interest. "He's hot."
You didn’t pay attention to whatever your friends were talking about as you stared, swirling the remaining liquid around in your glass. He was broad, and even seated, you could tell he was tall. He was thick in all the best ways, and you wanted to know what he looked like up close. Almost like he could feel you watching him, he cut his eyes in your direction. They connected with yours, and instead of shying away, a flash of boldness had you raising your glass to your mouth to take a small sip. You swiped your tongue over the moisture left coating your bottom lip, eyes never leaving his. A slow grin spread on his face and a thick eyebrow raised before he turned back to his friends. You smiled to yourself. It was a rare moment of feeling powerful and in control, and you relished it.
He was looking back at you now, and you felt a flutter in your stomach at the intensity of his gaze. You shifted in your seat, feeling a sudden urge to be closer. It was an unfamiliar feeling, and you didn’t quite know what to do with it. It had been so long since you had tried to pick up a guy, and you weren't sure you remembered how
A moment passed and he looked away again. Feeling emboldened, you downed the rest of your drink and pushed out of your seat. “I’m going to get another,” you announced before you could talk yourself out of it. It was a bad cover and you knew it, and by the way your friends cheered and started egging you on, they did too.
You took a deep breath as you tried to quell the flutter in your stomach. You made it a point to not look at him as you approached the bar. You leaned against the counter, ordering a tequila shot and splurging for the top shelf when the kind, pretty bartender asked for your order. You weren't sure if the drink would help settle your nerves or make them worse, but you needed something to distract you from the intense gaze you swore was burning into your back.
She slid the shot across to you with a grin, nodding when you asked her to put it on your tab before quickly moving on to other waiting customers. That tingling sensation of being watched came back stronger, and you had to remind yourself to breathe when a warm presence leant against the bar at your side, facing you. You turned your head, and oh, wow. He had a smile on his lips that made your knees weak, and from up close, you could see faint scars that had faded with time. He had eyes the color of dark honey that sucked you in, and even that ridiculous mustache looked soft. Your whole body tingled at the proximity.
“Hi,” you said, and you were surprised at how breathy you sounded. His smile widened as he looked you up and down.
“Hi.” His voice was deep and husky and you fought the urge to groan at how delicious it sounded. "Can I buy you a drink?" he asked.
You grinned, feeling a little giddy. "I just ordered one," you said, holding up the full shot glass. You felt embarrassment heat your face when a little bit of the clear liquid sloshed onto your fingertips, but you forced yourself not to break eye contact.
He chuckled, cheeks tinting red, and leant in a little closer. "Then let me join you for one.”
You pretended to think it over, humming in fake consideration. When you finally nodded, that charming smile of his turned just a touch toward a smirk. He called the bartender by name when she passed, asking for a shot of whatever you were having. The woman, Penny, huffed out a laugh that sounded amused but not judgemental as she efficiently poured it and slid it over. When she walked away, he raised it to yours.
“Cheers,” he murmured, voice low. You shivered in delight.
“Cheers.” You downed your shot, and he followed suit. The liquor burned its way down your throat, but you didn’t care. All you cared about was the way he was looking at you.
“What’s your name?” he asked. He sat himself down in the barstool you had been standing beside, and you couldn’t help but glance down at his legs, spread in a way that you would be standing between them if you shuffled just the slightest bit to the right. His denim clad thighs were thick and looked so inviting. When you met his eyes again, they sparkled like he knew what you had been thinking.
“What’s yours?” you asked instead. You were trying to get some of that control back that you had felt on your walk over here. You inhaled a subtle deep breath, catching another whiff of his cologne.
He chuckled lightly, ducking his eyes and looking at you through thick lashes that you envied. Your knees threatened to give out. “Bradley,” he introduced. He extended a hand. You took it, feeling the roughness of his palm and the strength of his grip. You couldn’t help but imagine those hands on your body, exploring every inch of you. You told him your name, and hummed in appreciation, repeating it. The syllables sounded like velvet coming from his mouth. “What brings you here tonight?”
“Oh,” you breathed. You drew your bottom lip between your teeth as you contemplated how to respond. You were proud of your decisions - of finally being free. But you weren’t sure how that would come across to a stranger you could definitely see yourself having a good time with. “Just…celebrating,” you settled on.
“Celebrating huh? Is it your birthday?”
“Maybe,” you shrugged, hoping it came across as playful and coy. By the laugh he let out, you thought you had succeeded.
“Okay, a woman of mystery I see.”
You smiled, lifting a shoulder again, not bothering to confirm or deny.
“Alright, mystery woman. Can I buy you a drink this time?”
You glanced over your shoulder, catching sight of all of your friends. They weren’t even trying to mask how they were staring at you, one of them even shooting you a thumbs up that made you roll your eyes. Bradley was still staring at you when you turned your gaze back to his, and you got lost in those dark honey eyes. It was sobering how quickly and intensely you were responding to him. You couldn’t remember the last time a man had that effect on you. That aspect of your marriage had been dried up long before the ink on the paper was. When the two of you finally separated almost a year ago, you had spent the time focusing on relearning who you were on your own, standing on your own two feet. You were cautious by nature, and it had been so long since you felt desire toward someone - even longer since you felt desired in return.
But when you shifted, you felt the straps and the lace comfortable against your skin under your dress, and you realized that maybe giving yourself the opportunity to show it off that night wouldn’t be such a bad idea. Maybe your friends had been onto something after all.
“I’d like that,” you finally said, and he was already smiling as he opened his mouth to respond, but you held up a finger to stop him. “But I have one condition.”
“Name it,” he said immediately. He was already waving down Penny behind the bar, and his lack of hesitation was so sexy.
“We move out of sight of my friends. I’d rather not feel them watching us the whole time.”
The laugh Bradley let out this time was loud and free, and you couldn’t help the giggle that escaped in return. His smile turned into a devilish grin and he leaned closer like he was going to share a secret. “Deal,” he said, “and also incredibly relatable. Don’t look now, but I’m pretty sure my friends are doing the exact same thing.”
Now that he said it, it did feel like there were multiple sets of eyes on you coming from opposing directions, and you giggled even harder. Once your drinks arrived, he stood up from his stool and offered you his hand. You had been right about him being tall, and you had to tamper down the sudden urge you felt to climb him like a tree. Instead, you took his hand and murmured for him to lead the way. You followed him closely as he led you through the crowded bar, feeling his warmth radiating off his body. The spicy scent of his cologne was intoxicating, and you found yourself wanting to breathe him in even more.
The cool night air was refreshing once you walked through the back doors and further down into the sand. Bradley kept a tight grip on your hand as you stumbled in your heels, but luckily it wasn't too far before he stopped next to a few sunken beach chairs.
You could still hear the music and the chatter from inside the bar, but it was quieter. There were string lights along the railing and torches in the sand that provided the slightest bit of light to where you could still easily see around you. You were far enough away that you could have privacy, but close enough to where you could easily scream and catch someone’s attention. You doubted it would get to that, but it was good to know your self preservation instincts were still working amongst all the things this man was making you feel.
It was nice out here, you decided, and before he could ask if it was okay, you were letting go of his hand and sidestepping him to sink down onto one of the oversized chairs. You patted the spot next to you as you looked up at him, and Bradley didn’t make you wait before he was squeezing onto the seat beside you. He was so close that his thigh pressed a delightful line against yours. It was all you could do not to melt into him.
You took a sip of your drink, the cold liquid providing some relief against the heat building in you. Bradley took a drink of his own, his eyes never leaving yours, and you couldn’t help yourself when you glanced down at his lips for a second; you wondered what it would be like to kiss them.
“Tell me something about yourself,” Bradley said, breaking the silence.
You thought for a moment, trying to think of something interesting to say. It was almost like you suddenly forgot every intriguing thing about yourself. You glanced down at the drink in your hand, swirling the liquid in the glass. “I’ve always wanted to learn how to fly,” you decided on.
Bradley sat up a little bit straighter, and pressed just a little bit closer. “Oh yeah?” he asked, and he sounded genuinely interested, almost excited. “Planes?”
“Yeah,” you nodded, and then couldn’t help the snort you let out. “Well my preference would be Superman style, but something tells me that won’t happen. So a plane will do.”
He smirked a little, taking another sip. He licked some of the liquid off of his mustache, and you wanted to know how the beer tasted off of it, too. “You’d look good in the spandex tights, though. No doubt about that.”
The line should have been gross and offensive, but coming from him, it felt like a compliment, and you couldn’t help but laugh as those butterflies erupted in your stomach again. “What about you?” you asked, and you didn’t know if it was your increasing level of comfortability with this man or the earlier tequila shot hitting your bloodstream, but you knocked your shoulder into his as you spoke. “Tell me something about yourself, Bradley.”
His smirk fell into a soft smile, and either mischief or the reflection of the moon was making his eyes sparkle. “You won’t believe me if I tell you.”
“Try me.”
He leaned so close that your breath caught, and for a moment you thought he was going to stop the conversation all together and kiss you. You were ready for it, even. But instead, he leant just a little bit to the side and whispered to you like he was sharing a secret, his lips brushing your ear. “I’m an aviator,” he told you, and his proximity made it so that it took a moment for the meaning to register to you.
“Oh my God,” you gasped, eyes wide, and he was already chuckling as he pulled away. “You fly!”
“I do,” he laughed, the sound deep and infectious, before tacking on in further explanation that he flew for the Navy.
“Wow,” you breathed, after he finished regalling you with more details about his aircraft and how long he had been flying, and the different planes he had gotten in the cockpit of over the years. He talked about it with a passion that you knew he wasn’t bullshitting or trying to impress you - he genuinely loved what he did. You toyed with the words before you spoke them, taking a deep breath and laying your palm on his thigh. You tried to keep your voice light and playful, despite your body humming. “Maybe you can teach me some time.”
“I’d be happy to,” he told you, “if you think you can handle it.”
It was a challenge, a proposition clear as day, and you knew it was your out if you wanted him to back down. But that’s not what you wanted. Not even a little bit. You swallowed thickly at how his gaze intensified. It felt like he was looking right through you like no one else ever has, and you liked it.
“I think you’ll find that I can handle a lot of things,” you murmured, and even you were surprised at how raspy your voice came out - sexy in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time. “I’m more than what I may seem.”
“So I’m discovering.” There was a moment of silence between you, but it wasn't an awkward one. Rather, it was charged with anticipation and desire. You could feel the pull between you, and you tracked the bulge of his adams apple as he swallowed. He cleared his throat and shook his head, and it was refreshing knowing you were having an effect on him, too. He held his half full glass up to yours, clinking them together once you did the same. “Here’s to discovering more.”
It got later and later as you sat out in the sand talking and getting to know this beautiful man sitting beside you. And the more you learned, the more you liked. He had a sense of humor that matched yours and a voice that sent shivers down your spine, and you hung onto every story with rapt attention that he returned whenever you spoke. Bradley was easy to talk to, and you found yourself getting lost in the conversation. The warmth of his body against yours was addicting, and you found yourself leaning into him even more.
“Can I make a confession?” you asked, after a particularly enrapturing tale of racing his best friend in an F-18 and almost getting caught doing so.
“I want to know all your secrets,” he said in return, and you almost moaned at how smooth the line was. Instead, you playfully rolled your eyes before you chewed on your bottom lip, trying to figure out how exactly to say it. He waited you out patiently, the hand from the arm he had draped across the back of the seat a little while ago tracing your shoulder so lightly you almost didn’t feel it. Your empty glasses were in the sand in front of you, but neither of you felt drunk on the limited alcohol you had consumed.
“I told you I was out celebrating tonight,” you started, and Bradley made a noise of recognition that let you know he remembered.
“Is it your birthday afterall?” he teased. You laughed softly at the way he put you so at ease.
“No, not my birthday. My friends actually insisted on taking me out tonight to celebrate some news I got earlier this week.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Mmm,” you hummed, before taking a deep breath. “My divorce was finalized earlier this week.”
If he was surprised or bothered by your words, it didn’t show. In fact, he didn’t flinch at all, just sat as relaxed as he had been all night while his fingertips continued to cause goosebumps to erupt all over your skin from their contact with your shoulder.
“How do you feel about that?” he asked, and you couldn’t help but marvel at his nonchalance. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but you don’t think it was this. You sighed happily in response to his question, and was delighted when he laughed a little. “That good huh?”
“That great,” you corrected. You shrugged, and his hand steadied on your skin, a nice weight on your shoulder. A soft smile played on your lips. You knew you didn’t have to tell him - truly, it was probably better if you didn’t. But something made you want to be honest with him. You tried not to read too much into that. “It had been a long time since he made me feel the way a man should make his wife feel, you know? We were over way before I ever served him with the papers, which was almost a year ago now. So it was a long time coming.”
“Enough time to get over him?” Bradley asked. Your breath caught because you swore there was something like hope in his voice. You desperately wished you were right. Regardless, you didn’t hesitate in nodding.
“I’ve been over him for ages,” you confirmed. “Just took awhile to make it official.”
He made another noise of understanding, and leaned in closer. He lifted a hand and your heart raced wildly in your chest at the way he cupped your cheek, his thumb tracing your bottom lip in a way that made you gasp quietly. The way he was looking at you made it feel like you were the only two people in the world.
“He was a fool for letting you go,” he said, so quietly you wondered if he meant to say it out loud.
Bradley leaned in closer, his lips hovering near your ear. You felt the heat emanating from him, and your body responded with a shiver. "You deserve to be wanted," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. You turned your head to look at him, and for a moment, you were lost in his dark eyes. You felt a sudden urge to kiss him, to taste his lips that looked so soft and inviting. You leaned in, closing the gap between you.
The kiss was electric, sending shivers down your spine. His lips were soft and full, and his tongue was warm and intoxicating as it slid into your mouth. You moaned quietly, feeling a rush of desire pulse through your body. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. He responded with a low growl, his hands gripping your hips tightly. You went willingly when he pulled you into his lap.
You broke the kiss for a moment, gasping for air as his tongue slid along your chin, down your neck, leaving a burning trail of heat. He bit at your collarbone playfully, smiling up at you. It was wicked and full of promise.
He used his grip on your hips to pull you down onto him, groaning at the friction. His own hips arched up to meet yours, and your head fell back as you both let out a moan. His teeth grazed along the soft skin of your neck, and you couldn’t help but claw at his shoulders and the back of his neck as you felt the rush of heat already pooling between your legs. He was hard, you could tell, and you wanted him so badly.
You had no idea what was happening or what was going to happen next, but it didn’t matter. All you wanted right now was to feel his body against yours. You heard his breath hitch as you let your hands roam his chest, hard and warm against your palms, the muscles firm and toned. You let your fingernails drag down his abs, eliciting a groan from him, and you grinned in satisfaction. You wanted to see more of that reaction, see more of him.
You moved to scoot back, intending to unbutton his jeans, but he grabbed your wrist before you could.
“Let me take you somewhere,” he murmured, and you let out a breathy laugh even as you nodded.
“Bathroom inside? Your car?” You leaned in for another kiss, but Bradley pulled back. He cupped your face in his big hands. The pad of his thumb rubbed a smooth line on your cheek.
“You deserve more than a quickie in a bar bathroom or a parking lot, Sweetheart. Can I take you home?”
“Yeah,” you breathed. You were blown away at how he continued to make you feel, how he was treating you like you were worth something. You wanted him so much, and you thought it was more than just physical, even as you were aching.
Your friends were still inside, clearly having had more to drink while they waited for you, and flirting with a few men in uniform of their own. You made quick work of letting them know you were leaving, and you didn't stick around for their catcalling as you followed Bradley into the parking lot, your hand held tight in his. You were trembling as you sank into his front seat, and you know it’s not just from the chill in the air.
He kissed you again before he put the classic Bronco into gear, your address plugged into his GPS. His hand was heavy on your thigh during the drive, and part of you was glad he didn’t do more than let it rest there, a reminder of his presence. You weren’t sure you could handle any more without losing control.
He pulled into your driveway and killed the engine, and for a long moment, the two of you just sat there, breathing heavily as you looked at one another. Finally, after a long moment, he raised that gentle hand of his and tucked some of your hair behind your ear.
“Beautiful,” he whispered, and his voice sounded reverent.
“Bradley.” You let out a shaky breath, swallowing down all of your nerves. “Come inside.”
It was a miracle that you managed to open the door without dropping your keys as Bradley kissed down the side of your neck, and you pulled him inside eagerly. You didn’t bother giving him a tour as you guided him up the stairs to your room. There would be time for that later.
You bypassed the ceiling light to turn on one of the bedside table lamps instead, casting a soft glow throughout the spacious bedroom. Bradley was right there when you turned, the two of you moving at the same time. His hands stroked down your sides as you pressed yourself against him, his mouth hot and hungry against yours. You let out a moan as your tongue tangled with his again. You threaded your fingers through his hair, just as soft as it looked, and tugged. He hissed out a low, sexy sound of approval.
You pushed the Hawaiian shirt off his shoulders and then tugged at the white shirt underneath it. He took the hint, detaching from you to pull it off over his head, baring his chest. You stepped back for a moment and let your eyes wander over him. He was incredible, toned and muscular, and the light dusting of hair on his chest made you bite your lip. You wanted to trace the lines of his muscles with your tongue, feel him against you. Your eyes moved down to see his erection straining against his jeans, and you licked your lips. You were so ready for him, and he was ready for you. You could tell. When your eyes trailed back up to meet his, the look he was giving you was hungry.
Before you could overthink it, you were tugging at the side zipper holding your black dress together and lowering it. You pushed it off of your shoulders and let it fall to the ground. Bradley blinked once, his gaze inevitably dropping. His eyes widened noticeably as a deep groan tore from his throat.
“Jesus Christ, baby.” The wonder in his voice was evident as he took in the lingerie that your friends had thrown at you earlier in the night, and you made a mental note to thank them tomorrow.
He seemed to be struggling for breath as he swallowed and stepped forward, sliding his hands up your sides to cup your chest. His thumbs brushed across your nipples, and you moaned at the sensation, arching into him. He leaned in and kissed you again before he began to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, over your collarbone, down to one breast. You dug your nails into his scalp, whimpering as you felt his teeth tug at your nipple through the lacy fabric. His tongue teased it, flicking over the sensitive skin. And then, with no warning at all, he was lifting you up and laying you down on the bed. You raised up on your elbows as he made quick work of taking off his belt and unbuttoning his jeans. He pushed them and his briefs down all in one go until they pooled at his feet. Your eyes widened at the site. His cock was hard and huge, and you grew wetter just looking at him.
You held out your hand without a word. He crawled onto the mattress, looming over your body as he braced his hands on either side of you. He kissed you again, his mouth hot and hungry against yours. Your hand wrapped around the back of his neck, pulling him closer. He kissed you for a long time, so long you thought you were going to be drunk off of it. When he did pull away, it was only to trail his lips down your neck, making you writhe as his mustache brushed against your sensitive skin. His mouth moved to your collarbone again, then down to one breast, and then the other. You keened at the sensation. Then his lips were on your stomach, and he shimmied himself down the bed until he was between your thighs. Slowly, he tugged your panties down your legs. He spread you wide, his eyes never leaving your center. He leant forward and inhaled deeply, groaning at the scent - your scent. He pressed a featherlight kiss to the inside of your thigh where it was settled on his shoulder before looking up at you.
“I’m going to devour you,” he stated. Before you had any time to react, his mouth was on you.
He was ravenous, lapping at you as if you were the best thing he’d ever tasted. You felt it all the way through your body as he moaned against you, your body writhing against his mouth. You were so hot, so ready for this man to take you. You let out a loud moan as he licked your clit, then took it into his mouth and sucked. It was almost embarrassing how quickly he brought you to the edge as his mouth worked you over expertly.
You don’t remember the last time a man had his mouth on you, let alone made you come from it. When you came, it was hard and loud, your hands buried in his hair, his name a mantra on your lips. He crawled back up the length of your body and kissed you, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. His thick cock twitched against your sensitive pussy, and the feeling of him settling between your legs was enough to have you pulling away from his kiss, breathing deeply.
His eyes were dark with lust as he looked down at your body, and you felt your face heating up at his silent perusal.
“I’m clean,” you whispered urgently, “if you want…”
He answered you with a groan of your name, his forehead pressed to yours, his cock twitching. “I am too. You sure?” You nodded, and without a word, you reached for him. You watched his face as you stroked him slowly. His eyes fluttered closed, and he leaned into your touch. He let out a throaty moan when you guided him to your entrance.
“Please,” you whispered. His eyes opened as he slid into you, filling you up entirely. He stilled for a moment, letting you adjust to the feeling. He was so thick and hard inside of you; you felt so impossibly full.
“You feel incredible,” he told you, still not moving, but you could feel how much he wanted to.
“Bradley,” you begged, and he withdrew slowly until just the head of his cock was still inside of you, pressing against your clit. He slid back in again, filling you up until you couldn’t think of anything but the feeling of him deep inside of you. You could feel it all the way to the top of your head, all the way down to your toes, and you moaned as he pulled out and thrust back in again.
His pace was tortuously slow at first, in a way that could only be deliberate, driving you crazy. You could feel every inch of him leave and enter you, over and over again. The feeling of him moving inside of you was almost more than you could stand, but still, you wanted more. You were ready to beg him to go harder, faster, but you didn’t need to as he finally, finally started to pick up the pace. You wrapped your legs around his hips as he found a steady, powerful rhythm. You cried out with every thrust, and he groaned out your name, his arms shaking with the strain of holding himself up above you. Soon, he was fucking you hard. Every thrust drove him deeper inside of you, hitting that spot that made it almost impossible to breathe. You could feel yourself getting close.
“Come on, baby,” he panted. “Come for me.”
You were drowning in him, and when he pulled you in for another kiss, there was so much passion you thought you might be swept away by it all. You’re not sure what to do with yourself, but you know you don’t want this moment to end. Your walls tightened around him as you let go, and you could feel him shuddering as he came with you.
He stayed there, kissing you softly for a long time before he gently pulled out, rolling onto his back beside you. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you with him. You pressed a kiss to his chest before you rested your cheek on his sweaty skin, listening to his heartbeat as it began to slow. He kissed your head lightly, and for a while, the two of you just laid there, basking in the afterglow.
It was Bradley who finally broke the silence, and your whole body trembled at his words.
“Rest for a little bit, sweetheart. I’m not done with you tonight.”
Your pussy clenched. You could still feel his cum oozing out of you slowly from round one, and if you were honest with yourself, you had been wet since you first laid eyes on him. You picked your head up to look at him. Your voice was breathy with anticipation when you asked, “Is that so?”
“Yes. And then, I’m gonna convince you to let me stay the night. And in the morning, after at least one orgasm, I’m gonna cook you breakfast.”
Your breath caught and a lump formed in your throat. He said it so confidently, like it was an indisputable fact. You were surprised at how much you longed for it to be just that.
This was not at all how you had anticipated your night going.
“And after that?” You dared yourself to ask.
He traced your cheek with a sated smile on his handsome face, his mustache twitching and his dark honey eyes sparkling. “I told you, you deserve to be wanted. And I want you.”
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Main Masterlist
Notes: Happy Birthday Em! Thanks for being born. Hope you enjoyed this! Now go do fuckboy things and celebrate 🎉💚
Thanks to @mak-32 for the banner and for all of her help with this!
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#alli writes#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw imagine#bradley bradshaw x oc#bradley rooster bradshaw#rooster imagine#rooster smut#rooster x reader#rooster x you#tgm fic#tgm smut#tgm fanfiction#bradley bradshaw x you#bradley bradshaw x female reader#bradley bradshaw x y/n#bradley bradshaw smut
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picture perfect guy
rooster x afab!reader | 2.5k words
summary: it’s not like you ever forget your boyfriend is strong but seeing it so blatantly displayed makes you dizzy
cw: 18+ MDNI, smut, strength kink (?), sweat kink (if u squint), size kink, man-handling, no protection don’t be like them, p in v sex, reader is down bad, secret relationship, big dick rooster, he’s just big in general, shorter reader, reader works in the navy, lowkey power dynamics where reader is higher up, rank kink, pet names (girl, baby, etc), fuck the army in more ways than one
you heard what happened in the simulation, working at top gun meant that the pilot training was of utmost importance. no one knew about your relationship and you wanted to keep it that way until the mission ended.
you made your way to the tarmac, wanting to see your boyfriend and your friends doing their punishment. in fairness as maverick’s right hand you had valid reason to make sure they did as told. your boots hitting the sweltering pavement as you made out your boyfriend doing push ups. you were sure his hands were burning up and his body was screaming from exhaustion, you grew closer seeing hondo watching them. you did your best to pay equal attention to phoenix and bob but failed completely as you heard rooster grunting. sweat beaded down his forehead and his skin shined under the sun, a sheen of perspiration on his muscular arms. you swallowed down hard, tearing your gaze from him as you looked to hondo for a count, he looked at you with a wry look and yelled out, “150.”
“i can take over, it’s hot as hell out here.” you elbowed him, he shot you a smile before counting once more and giving you an appreciative nod of the head. your eyes quickly returned to rooster. he grunted once more, moving up and down only looking up when you yelled out the next number. his furrowed brows and glare dissipated like a lovestruck puppy as he met your eyes, you shook your head to dissuade him, to try and make his response less obvious. luckily you turned to find hondo already walking away. bob and phoenix were too busy fighting the ache in their arms to notice or care. it wasn’t like you were the best actors in the world, hangman made countless jokes at the expense of both of you until you reminded him of your rank. you continued counting not missing how bradley’s eyes never seemed to leave you. he was sneaking glances as much as he could, even craning his head as you walked towards bob when you noticed him slacking off. “eyes forward rooster,” you didn’t have to look at him to see his eyes squarely planted on your ass.
you knew your boyfriend was strong, but times like this reminded you just how strong. your rooster, your bradley was mostly gentle with you. when you first started dating you had no idea just how his training affected him, even saying that you were too heavy to sit on his lap. you still remember his slightly offended expression as he tugged you onto his lap and said, “baby i could bench two of you, are you trying to hurt my feelings?” his words, just like they did the first time he said it, made your stomach drop and your thighs squeeze together. you wanted him so badly, wanted him to break you. you knew you were being unfair, the man was 165 push-ups deep in the sweltering california heat. it didn’t stop your greedy eyes from raking over his frame once again, his back muscles bulging through his black shirt as he strained them. you felt your heartbeat pick up and move south. this was torture, for all parties involved. you unbuttoned a few buttons of your uniform, it was lower than you’d usually wear in the base but the only person who had their eyes on you was bradley. the remaining push-ups went as well as they could’ve, all three lieutenants struggling against their bodies grunting and groaning as they struggled through. when it was finally over bob collapsed to the ground, welcoming the hot pavement against his skin. phoenix and rooster shakily stood. you told them both good work, offering bob a hand up which he refused. “just need to catch my breath.” you nodded and threw him a water bottle from the cooler nearby. rooster and phoenix helped themselves to the drinks. phoenix said something about needing to wash up which you nodded dumbly at not really listening when your stupidly handsome boyfriend was drinking down water like his life depended on it, water dribbling down his chin. your eyes tracked the drops as they ran down his neck and under his shirt, you so badly wanted to lick them off, feel the cool liquid against your lips but most importantly feel skin on yours. you felt an inexplicable urge to just lick him clean, you’d blame it on the heat. your entire body burned with a need for him, to taste him to drink him in, to have him. bradley groaned as he finished off his bottle, your mouth slightly agape when he caught your stare and wiped his chin with the back of his hand. his eyes flashed from confusion to all knowing, he could practically feel the desire radiating off you.
“lieutenant bradshaw, are you done for the day?” you should’ve known the answer, he was under your jurisdiction after all, but your mind couldn’t recall anything about today besides his arms and back. bradley licked his lips, feeling himself grow half-hard at the use of his rank. his breath was shallow as he spoke next.
“i’ll be leaving in 15 minutes after i shower.” his eyes flick down to your opened collar you’d forgotten about that until his wide brown eyes seemed to get wider at the sight. you buttoned up, noticing the small pout to his lips. it truly was a miracle the entire base didn’t know due to how obvious your boyfriend was.
“what a coincidence so will i.” you said, shooting him a small smile before heading off towards the base. you heard him running up to your side, following you back inside.
15 minutes later exactly, you found bradley waiting for you next to his truck. he opened the door for you and you put your hand over his as you entered. you both agreed after almost being caught in your office not to do anything physical on the base. that meant as soon as you were off the base, his hand slid onto your bare thigh, you’d changed into a sundress just like he changed into shorts and his usual hawaiian shirt. you were already so desperate for him, his rough large hand covered your thigh and you squirmed in your seat. the drive to bradley and your’s place felt longer than usual, neither of you breaking the silence. after what felt like years you both entered your home, tugging bradley to you by his shirt, your lips finding his as you leaned up onto your toes. he gasped into your mouth, his mustache tickling against you, his arms encircled your waist and you moaned at the feeling. his arms had driven you insane all day and now they were squeezing you like you were nothing. bradley pulled back at the noise, shocked at how you were so gone from a kiss alone, not knowing your train of thought. you leaned back, moving your arms from around his neck to touch his arms, you trailed them up and down feeling the muscle there as bradley watched you, slowly piecing the puzzle together.
“is my girl all worked up from watching me work-out?” his voice was hushed, heavy with want and you felt heat surge between your thighs as he aptly deduced what had you so dizzy.
“you’re so strong, so big, God bradley.” your hands trailed up his arms, to the broadness of his shoulders, traveled to his back to feel the raw power there too. bradley couldn’t help but let that comment get to head as he took in your dazed expression and smirked. at times like this he wondered how he got so lucky. he pulled you closer, his arms tightening around your waist as your chest pressed against his. he could feel all of you now, you could feel his hard-on against your stomach. you looked up at his eyes, finally tearing them away from his body. you whimpered as he lifted you clean off the floor, not even flinching or breaking eye contact. you were a doll in his hold, propped up so he could get a good look at you, finally eye level with him. your breathing got shallower, and bradley had confirmed all he needed to know, hauling you over his shoulder and carrying you to the bedroom.
bradley easily threw you on the bed, stealing the air from your lungs as you crawled up the bed. he pulled his shirt off, his tank to go next, only his dog tags against his bare toned chest. your cheeks flushed as his gaze met yours, his eyes dark with lust, pupils blown wide surrounded by hazel. you were sure you weren’t any different. “pretty, always so fucking pretty.” he murmured, in a daze just like you, wrapping a hand on your ankle and pulling you towards him, at the edge of your bed. his strength, the way he easily threw you around, made your thighs clench and bradley didn’t miss it this time. smirking as he hovered over you, pulling you by the back of your head to kiss him. he pulled back only to kiss your neck, then your collarbone, before he was pushing your sleeve down, ripping the seam in the process, making you hiss. too fucking strong and too fucking desperate for you, you were choking back a moan but didn’t want to egg him on.
“roo! i like this dress.” you gasped as he continued to kiss you, unwavered by your torn sleeve. you half wondered if you could sew it up, your thought being cut off when his teeth scraped against the top of your breast.
“i’ll buy you a new one doll.” you whined in response as he pulled the front of your dress down, cupping your breasts over your bra. you pushed at his chest, not even moving him but he moved back as you pulled the dress over your head. he quickly unclasped your bra and his kisses turned to bites, one hand kneading one breast as the other teased your nipple. his lips bit and sucked at each nipple, blowing air on it to make it even more sensitive. meanwhile you were bucking under his hold, begging for more, begging for him to touch you.
“please bradley, please,” your pleas were falling on dead ears as he sucked and pinned you down. you had to pull out the big guns. “please lieutenant bradshaw touch me.” his eyes snapped back to your face, his teeth dragging off your tender nipple.
“i’m touching you now.” his hands were circling your waist, keeping you in place. his tone was teasing, he knew what you needed but he wanted you to beg.
“please just fuck me.” and that’s all it took, bradley never was one for dragging things out. you both were already aching for each other. he lifted you up and instead of pushing you further up, he was lifting you clean off the bed, to stand. you legs wrapped around his waist and his hands lifted you up by the underside of your thighs. you looked at him to try and understand what he was doing until one hand left your thigh and you heard his fly unzip. he was gonna fuck you while standing, while supporting your entire weight. you were sure you had soaked through your underwear, bradley would know anyways since his member was freed and poking against your clothed entrance. bradley pushed your underwear to the side, it made you feel even filthier than you did now. bradley cursed under his breath, rubbing his head against you, collecting the slick there and coating his member with it. you whined and twitched as his tip caught against your clit. you’d start dripping on your hardwood floor if he didn’t fuck you already.
“ready baby?” you nodded enthusiastically with hooded eyes, one of your hands playing with his chain as he pushed the tip in. you gasped at the stretch, no matter how many times he fucked you, you’d never get used to how fucking big he was. he stretched you wide and filled you all the way up. he slowly pushed in, letting you adjust like always. you pressed a kiss to his lips as you looked down with a slight nod for him to move.
maybe you shouldn’t have made your newfound affinity for his strength so blatant, because bradley lifted you up and plunged you back down so viciously you saw stars. his tip bruised your cervix and you swear you could feel the veins on his cock stamp your walls. you were clenching around him, the sounds of your slick pouring out of you and the slap of skin against skin filled the room making your head spin. bradley never let up his pace, his breathing growing shallow as he used like a sex toy. “fuck bradley, s-so deep.” you whined out, leaning your forehead against his. you felt his was wet with sweat and you clenched at the memory of him from earlier today. you watched a bead of sweat roll down the side of his head and this time you caught it with your tongue. bradley lost any self control he was holding onto at that.
“you’re killing me baby.” his pace grew brutal, turning you into a babbling mess as he began thrusting up while still hammering you on his cock. you grabbed onto his hair, grabbed his arms his shoulders, dug your nails into his back and clawed, anything you could do to ground yourself. nothing stopped the earth-shattering pleasure from washing over you in waves. everything felt sensitive, your nipples erect as they ground against him from every thrust. you felt yourself close and you knew bradley was too, could feel him tensing up under you. with one final thrust, he came inside filling you past the brim, his cum mixed with yours leaking out the side. you came with him, twitching in his hold as he fucked you both through it, milking him for all he had. he never moved you off as he walked you both to bed, lying you down, spooning you from behind. the angle let him stay inside, not letting anything leak, just like you both liked.
“so the push-ups huh?” bradley whispered against the shell of your ear, pulling your underwear off finally and hugging you closer. his dick going even deeper.
“uh huh, you looked too damn good lieutenant.” at the mention of his rank, you felt his dick twitch and you couldn’t stop the giggle from escaping your lips. you both were insatiable. it wasn’t long before you were worked up again, bradley filling you up and proving just how strong he was all over again.
a/n: possibly my filthiest one-shot to date? that can easily be beaten but something about sweaty bradley bradshaw makes me FERAL…. i will not be taking questions ab it <3
#rooster fanfic#rooster imagine#rooster x y/n#rooster x reader#rooster x oc#rooster bradshaw#rooster smut#bradley bradshaw fanfiction#bradley bradsaw x reader#bradley bradshaw fluff#bradley bradshaw x y/n#bradley bradshaw#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw smut#top gun maverick#top gun maverick smut
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Begin Again Part Two
As a first grade teacher, you couldn’t help but fall for your sweet student and her very attractive Navy fighter pilot father.
Part One. Part Three.
Bradley could not believe his ears. He was pretty sure if he looked into a mirror his face would be tomato red. He had never felt more humbled in his life.
“I’m not sure where she got that from,” Bradley awkwardly laughed. “You know how kids are. They get confused sometimes. Right Tara?”
“But Daddy,” Tara started. “You told Aunt Phoenix that my teacher was…”
“Well,” Bradley said while looking at you. “We have to um get going. See you tomorrow Ms. Y/L/N.” He practically dragged Tara out of your classroom.
You politely smiled and waved. “Bye Tara! Bye Mr. Bradshaw!” You said.
Bradley and Tara leaving meant you finally had some time to yourself. You wondered if Tara was telling the truth. Bradley was right. You did know how kids are. Maybe Tara overheard Bradley’s conversation and got confused. That had to be why she said that.
The next day on base, Bradley practically ran to Phoenix. “What do I do? Phoenix please help me,” He begged.
Phoenix began walking towards the on base locker rooms. “Bradshaw, what the hell is up with you?”
Bradley made quick steps to keep up with Phoenix. “Yesterday, when I went to pick up Tara, she walked up to her teacher and told her that I think she’s pretty,” he said with a hint of embarrassment in his voice.
“Yikes Rooster,” Phoenix replied. “I don’t even think I can help you get out of that one.” She said before bursting into laughter.
“Phoenix please. What should I say to her today? Should I just ignore her or what? You’re the girl here, you have to have something I can do.” Bradley said, voice laced with desperation.
“Look Bradley,” Phoenix said seriously. “Just be honest with her. Tell her that what Tara said is true and that you meant no harm by it. I don’t know what else to say.”
Bradley sighed, said goodbye to Phoenix, and did the walk of shame to his Ford Bronco. It was time to pick up Tara again. It was time to see you again.
At school, Tara was the last person to be picked up again. You led her inside of your classroom and patiently waited for her father to arrive. At four o clock, he knocked on your door.
“Daddy,” Tara yelled while running to Bradley.
“Hi sweetie!” He said while giving her a hug. “Hi Ms Y/L/N.” He said with a polite wave in your direction.
“Hi Mr. Bradshaw.” You said politely. “Before you go, I just wanted to remind you that drop off is at 3 o'clock.”
“Crap,” he said while letting go of Tara. “Sorry. I’m a single dad and sometimes it’s hard to transport Tara from place to place. I fly planes for the Navy so my schedule isn’t very lenient.”
“It’s okay Mr. Bradshaw.” You said while smiling at him. “I have no problem keeping Tara after school for a few hours if it would help you.”
“That would mean a lot as long as it’s not an inconvenience to you.” He said. Bradley couldn’t believe you had offered to watch Tara for him. Finding someone he trusted to watch Tara while he was at work could be hard. Not only were you nice to look at, you were also just nice. “You can just call me Bradley by the way.”
“I’m Y/N then,” you said while holding your hand out for him to shake. “I’m happy to help you. I know it’s only the third day of school but Tara is one of my best students so far.” You said with a wide smile in Tara’s direction.
“Thank you so much.” He smiled while grabbing Tara’s backpack and jacket. “Oh.” He said while turning around to face you again. He quickly ran his fingers through his hair and closed his eyes before quickly opening them again. “About what Tara said yesterday,” he started. “I did say you were attractive in confidence to my friend. She must have overheard and I’m really sorry if this makes things awkward now, but I just wanted you to know the truth,” he rambled on, “But um yeah I apologize.” He said while running his fingers through his hair again.
“All is forgotten,” you said. “And for the record, you’re not too bad yourself.” You said, slightly blushing.
Bradley grinned. He couldn’t believe his ears. “I should probably give you my number,” he said while pulling out his phone. “You know since you’re going to be staying with Tara for a while after school.”
“Right.” You said taking his phone and typing in your number. “I’ll see you tomorrow Tara.” You waved. “Bye Bradley!”
When you checked your phone after getting home and showering you saw a message from an unknown number.
Hey, it's Bradley. I can’t wait to see more of you. And thanks again for helping with Tara.
You put your phone down and smiled. Then you thought of what to say to Bradley.
Happy to help! See you tomorrow.
You couldn’t wait to see more of Bradley either.
Authors note: I love writing these characters! Please let me know if you want part three. Happy Reading!
-Willow 🩷
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His Wings of Gold | Bradley Rooster Bradshaw |
When Bradley called you and asked if you would come down for his winging ceremony, you couldn’t say no. It was in September, right after the semester started, but you wouldn’t miss it for the world. You couldn’t let Bradley be all alone, not when he didn’t have any other family to be there to support him. So you got on a plane and flew down, just in time for the ceremony.
Dressed in your casual sunday best, you made your way onto the base, showing your ID at the gate, knowing Bradley had you on the approved list. Your heart pounded in your chest as you drove your rental car. You were nervous, both for Bradley and for yourself to actually be the one to pin the wings on. You didn’t want anything to go wrong, this was his special day.
He promised to meet you out front of the officer’s club, where the ceremony was being held. You couldn’t wait to see him, it had been months. Both due to your work schedule and his training. You hadn’t had time to fly over and see him, and you hated it. This was one of the longest periods you’d gone without seeing each other since he graduated from college.
You saw him the second you pulled into the parking lot. He had to be sweating in his dress whites, the heat was unnatural for this time of year. He paced back and forth, waiting on you. Your heart broke, you could tell he hadn’t been sleeping.
“Bradley!” You breathed out, running from your car.
You could see his shoulders relax when he spotted you, steps quickening so he could reach you faster. He reaches for you, wrapping you in his arms, breathing in your scent. He can’t put into words just how much he missed you.
“Baby,” His voice cracked just enough to let you know he was trying not to cry.
It broke your heart. You should’ve found a way to come sooner. So you hugged him back as tightly as you could, without getting makeup all over his dress jacket. You wanted him to feel every ounce of love that you had for him. He deserved nothing but love.
“I’m here, Brad,” You whispered in his ear, “I’m right here.”
“I can’t believe you’re real. I feel like I’m dreaming.”
“You aren’t sweetheart,” You told him, pulling back slightly, “You made it. It’s almost over.”
He sighed, and closed his eyes, nodding slightly. You could see the beads of sweat starting to form under his cap. So you nudged him towards the building, “Let’s go get a drink.”
He nodded again and started walking inside, hand guiding you from the small of your back. Inside was a mess of Wingees and other personnel that were here to watch the ceremony. Bradley led you over to the bar and ordered for both of you, two bottles of Bud.
“I want to introduce you to some of my friends, if that’s okay?” He questioned.
“Baby, this is your day. You do whatever you want,” You told him sweetly.
He just smiled and waved over a female with dark hair, “Natasha, this is Y/N, my girlfriend.”
“Oh my god! It’s so nice to finally meet you! I’ve heard so much about you!” Natasha gushed, reaching over to hug you, “Brad here doesn’t shut up about you!”
“Oh my god,” You exclaimed, “Me? I’ve heard so much about you! Brad doesn’t stop talking about you!”
The other female blushed slightly and took a sip of her beer, “Only because I’m one of the only ones to put up with his ass.”
“Yeah, thanks Nat,” He groaned, “I think you just like me because of the care packages Y/N’s sent me.”
“Yeah actually, thanks for those,” Nat said, tipping her beer towards you.
You couldn’t help but laugh. You sent Bradley a care package once every two weeks, full of his favorite candy and snacks. Sometimes you added in his favorite movies, just to brighten up his day and remind him to take time away from studying.
“Glad you enjoyed them too!” You laughed, hugging onto Bradley.
When the time came for the Ceremony to start, Bradley downed the rest of his beer quickly before leaving you to sit with the rest of the winging class. You took your seat in the audience, leg bouncing as you waited. The whole time you couldn’t take your eyes off of Bradley. You wished his mom was here to see this, you know Carole would’ve been so proud of him.
“LTJG Bradley Bradshaw, front and center,” The announcer called.
You took a deep breath and made your way up front. The announcer continued to give a bio on Bradley, including the fact that he would be stationed in North Island for TOPGUN. You took a deep breath and stepped up towards him. They said that you were the one pinning him just as you reached him.
“Hi baby,” You whispered to him, taking the wings, “I’m so proud of you.”
He smiled big and wide as you gently pushed the golden wings into his uniform. You tried your best to make them straight for him, so he wouldn’t have to fix them later. He held your hand and pulled you close so you could get a picture together. You couldn’t help but smile wide as everyone cheered him on.
What neither of you knew was Pete “Maverick” Mitchell slipped out of the back door before Bradley, or you, had the chance to see him. But he wasn’t going to miss Bradley getting his wings. Even if the younger pilot was no longer speaking to the older man. But he looked at Bradley as if he was his own son, he couldn’t let this day go by without being there.
After it was all over you took some more pictures together. You saw the way he looked at you when they awarded the spouses with plaques to thank them for their sacrifice and help they gave to their aviators during training. You could feel the love he had for you. And although you’d never talked about marriage, you knew he was thinking about it.
“We should do that you know,” he stated a while after once you were back in his little shared house with Natasha.
“Do what Brad?” You questioned, reaching up to kiss him.
“Get married.”
“Braddy,” You sighed happily, “You know I would marry you in a heartbeat.”
“So, let’s go do it.”
“Right now?” You questioned.
“Why not? We can treat the after party tonight as our wedding reception,” He half joked, “We can have a big ceremony later for your family.”
“Really?” You questioned, “Don’t you want today to just be about you?”
“Baby, it’s about us,” He replied, “You helped me earn these. I want to celebrate everything with you. So c’mon. Let’s go down to city hall.”
“Okay, Brad. Let’s do it.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, let’s go get married, my love.”
“Wings of gold and a wife, this day can’t get any better,” He smiled so big you swore his face hurt.
“I love you so much,” You told him, kissing him deeply.
“I love you even more.”
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Used to be yours
Masterlist
You were never part of Bradley's plan. The plan consisted of two things, getting into the Navy, and being a pilot. But the day he met you was the day his list grew, grew to include you, the constantly forgotten best friend of his most hated classmate. Jake Seresin. He would never forget his Tapout ceremony, because that's where his real story starts.
You had known Jake your whole life so it wasn't really a surprise when he asked you to come to the ceremony. His father had also hated you for at least your entire friendship with his son. You, in his eyes, were nowhere near good enough to be associating with the Seresin Heir. It didn't matter that you had money of your own, sitting away in a trust fund. In Jacob Sr's eyes you were just the kid from town who's daddy had died in the line of duty.
It didn't matter that said daddy had died while on call as a firefighter..
So when you were told to buy your own ticket, get your own hotel room and rental car you really weren't surprised. What did surprise you though was Jake barely even saying hi to you before he was introducing some girl to the rest of his family. The snarky smile she gave you and the little finger wave of condescension turned your stomach. The little life that Jake had unknowingly left there the night before not yet protesting, but the action caused your heart to squeeze in pain. Without having to speak, since no one was listening anyways, you walked away and to the bathroom.
Your heart broke slightly when you came back and the entire Seresin family was nowhere to be seen. They had left, off to some fancy dinner without you. Jake had left.. without you.. suddenly the receipts for this trip flashed in your mind. The money for the ticket, room, the car you rented. The pretty black dress and shoes you bought to wear. All money wasted..
At least it was wasted until you turned around and noticed a group of high ranking Military men standing looking sadly at something. Side stepping a little you looked past them to see another man, still standing at attention, clearly waiting for no one but waiting all the same. You didn't know what took you over but suddenly you couldn't look away. Your feet moved towards him without thinking as you took him in.
He was beautiful. Beautiful in a broken kind of way, the same way you always saw in yourself when you looked in the mirror. Scars on his neck and face came into view the closer you got. And when his brown eyes locked onto yours it was like the entire world faded. Like you could see yourself introducing this man to your friends, to your grandma. Taking him to your dad's grave without him laughing or being awkward like Jake did the one time you took him there.
Bradley was shocked to see someone walking towards him. He wanted to turn and see who you were really looking for but he knew he was the only one left out on the field. He had seen Natasha pause wanting to turn around and tap him out. He could see her now from the corner of the field watching as this beautiful girl walked towards him. You stopped just in front of him and whispered a small hi. Clearly you were embarrassed, he was too. But when you asked in a voice much stronger if it was okay for you to tap him out he almost sagged in relief. When your hand came up to tap him on the shoulder tears filled his eyes.
Without asking his arms wrapped around you, yours easily coming around to hold him just as tightly. For some reason seeing him left out on the field waiting for someone who couldn't show up made you understand him on a level that so many other people couldn't. You ask him to go to dinner with you and the two of you spent the entire night talking about your parents and his. Expressing how grateful you both were to have someone in your life for you, it was your grandma for him, his Uncle Maverick. Maverick was due back the next day meaning that when Bradley practically begged you to meet him you couldn't turn it down.
The next morning when Bradley opened the door to the home he and Maverick were temporarily sharing, the wind was knocked out of his lungs. He had never been more sure than in that moment that his parents were truly looking out for him as his eyes took in the Hawaiian style dress sundress you were wearing. You mistook his awed look though, quickly explaining how your parents got married in Hawaii and how after your mother passed away your father took to wearing Hawaiian shirts to try and honor her memory. And how even after he passed away you tried to continue that tradition.
Bradley stopped you with a soft smile even though inside he wanted to strangle whoever it was that made you feel so self-conscious about it. Gently he grabbed your hand and guided you up to his makeshift room pulling out a Hawaiian shirt that belonged to his dad and telling you a very similar story. It was the start of what would become a fairytale-like story.
Three months later you were storming from Seresin family ranch and sprinting for your car. Positive pregnancy test fisted in your grip as Jacob's words replayed over and over in your mind. "No son of mine will be drug down by a bastard child." "You're just a sad little girl who's looking for a family" "He will never love you". After Jacob SR demanded he pay for an abortion you stormed out. His mother caught up to you on the porch, promising your child a trust fund and enough money to care for a baby for 18 years if you just swore to never tell Jake.
You were suddenly thankful that your plane ticket was for the same day. Bradley was coming home the next day and Mav had asked you to pick him up from the docks. You were beyond excited to see him. Your love for Jake had faded every single day as you talked to Bradley. You were terrified to tell him though that there was a baby growing in you. One that was put there by someone who went out of his way to make Bradley's life harder. Someone who used the fact that Bradley's parents had passed away as a reason why he wasn't good enough to be a pilot.
The next day your phone rang as this giant ship got closer and closer to the dock. Bradley had been staring at his phone for 10 minutes waiting to get enough service to call. He just wanted to know when the soonest he would be able to see you. He could hear the deep sadness and worry in your voice when you said you were waiting on the dock for him. He thought nothing could dampen the pure excitement he felt knowing that someone was waiting for him, especially someone he loved as much as he loves you. But he was proved wrong when he saw how puffy and red your eyes were. How your bottom lip quivered the closer he got. The only thought then was what he would do to make you feel better.
And that's what he did for the last 10 years every decision Bradley Bradshaw has ever made has been made with the utmost care. When he adamantly wanted nothing more than to continue dating you. When he said he wanted to be there for the birth of your daughter. Another year later when he got out on one knee and asked you to become his wife. When two years later he begged you to let him adopt and make her officially a Bradshaw. And potentially the biggest decision he's ever made to date, was made last week when Cyclone pulled all of the aviators and officially made them the dagger Squad. Everyone besides Maverick, Cyclone and Phoenix were shocked to hear the mustache man say that he needed to call and talk to his wife. The guys all sat around talking about how none of them had even known Bradshaw was married.
Jake scoffed and rolled his eyes when Phoenix told him in a very hard voice that it wasn't any of his business. Jake never understood because no matter how hard he tried to reconcile and create a friendship with Rooster the man just constantly blew him off. It didn't matter how many times he apologized for bringing up his dad. Or for screaming nepotism when he found out that Bradley had grown up with Ice and Mav. Bradley held strong that he couldn't forgive some of the things the man had said. But Jake didn't know Bradley wouldn't forgive him for the words that he spoke to you.
Bradley remembers the devastation on your face when you called Jake to tell him you were pregnant. It had taken Maverick and himself two months to talk you into it. And it was something Bradley hated remembering, hates that he had a hand in. Because he will never forget the look on your face when Jake told you he couldn't be friends with you anymore. That being friends with a young, single mother was bad for not only his family's reputation but his own. That he didn't want his higher up thinking he hung out with people who made bad choices. He hung up before you ever got the chance to tell him who the baby belonged to.
Two months later an envelope arrived in the mail, inside were papers that broke your heart even more. Paperwork signed by Jake stating that he wanted nothing to do with any potential child. Bank account information as well as trust fund information for your daughter from his parents with a letter from his mother apologizing that they could have nothing to do with you or her.
You never spoke to or of Hangman again, until your husband called and told you he had a possible permanent assignment. Told you the details and who would be there. You wanted to say no. Wanted to tell Bradley to come back to his previous team, back to the small home you had made for yourselves. But you could hear the underlying excitement in his voice. Could see the hope shining in his eyes even over Face-time. You knew being close to Mav and Ice would bring him joy. Being at TOPGUN made him feel closer to his father. Would give him an opportunity to become an instructor. You knew that you couldn't allow your past to destroy something beautiful in your future. Even if you knew that Rooster wouldn't complain a single time if you said you couldn't do it. But for him… you could do anything.
Even at that something was seeing Hangman. And yes that was what you were going to call him because the person you remembered as Jake was the first person you had ever fallen in love with, a boy from your childhood who would do anything and everything to make you smile. Hangman was the guy who left you at his Tapout ceremony. The guy who left when he found out you were pregnant. The guy who had hung you out to dry and never looked back. While you were ridiculously grateful that he had saved your husband and surrogate father in law, you couldn't forgive him for everything else.
That's why now Bradley was standing on the tarmac nervous as hell. Because he hadn't seen you or his daughter in months and of course Hangman had to be here with the group. Claiming he wanted to see everyone's happy reunions. Bradley had sent you a text stating that the blond was here, he just hoped you would see it before you got off the plane. As he watched the tires bounce on the ground he got a text.
BeautifulGirl: Hen wants Mav to catch her off the stairs like always. Catch me BradBrad?
BradBrad: Always Beautiful. Be the last off for me. ❤️
He leaned over and showed the text messages to Maverick who chuckled and shook his head even though deep down he absolutely loved having a tradition with his granddaughter. So together they stood and waited watching as Phoenix's girlfriend came rushing down the stairs screaming for her. As Bob's little sister brought over his dog, and as Payback reunited with his two daughters and wife before moving forward.
Bradley turned back looking at the group, happy to find that Coyote and Hangman were being introduced to Payback's wife so they were too busy to watch. As soon as they reached the bottom of the plane stairs a beautiful little blonde girl with sea-foam green eyes threw herself off the second to last step and into the arms of her Grandpa, both of them laughing. Pete gently stepped out of the way so that you could throw your arms and legs around your husband pressing your lips together all in pretty much one movement. He wrapped one arm under your butt, holding you too him while the other wrapped around your neck. It was a feeling neither of you would ever get used to or tired of.
Being together, touching each other in any way was addictive. The two if you were always touching. Whether it was holding hands or Bradley's hand resting on your back or you sitting on his lap, you were always touching when you were together. Next to you you guys could hear Mav and Henley giggling. Bradley smiled whispering to you "I'm chop liver to her when Poppas here" you nodded brushing your fingers down his cheek. Mavs voice broke the little bubble around the two of you. "How about we go get some lunch and ice cream then my little Henny can stay the night."
Hangman watched from the other side of the tarmac as Rooster and Maverick each carried someone away from the plane and towards Bradley's Bronco. There was something in the back of his mind and in his heart screaming to get a closer look. To know who this little girl was in Mavericks arms. To just see the face of the woman that was so tightly held against Bradley. But as he went to take a step forward Phoenix laid a hand on his chest and gave him a hard look while shaking her head. When he looked back up the little family was already loading into the Bronco.
~
~
~
PART 2
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The Boyfriend Experience - Part 2 /2
7k words of Rooster being your super wonderful, pretend plus one! A few swears, but it’s the Navy, goddammit! The fluffiness should make up for it.
The Boyfriend Experience 1 / 2
“Thank God you didn’t catch the bouquet,” Rooster rolled his eyes as you wandered back, bored. "Could you look any less interested?" he bit back a smile.
“I could, yes," you told him, patting his cheek with a gentle thwack as he chuckled.
”Well, you made sure I didn't have a run there to fake propose in front of all these witnesses. Left my fake engagement ring in my dresser drawer back at base,” he snapped his fingers. "Fuck."
"You'd have really ruined this wedding if you proposed. Even you must know the lack of decorum of proposing at someone else's wedding. You probably wouldn't need to go to those extremes," you laughed quietly.
He nodded and grinned. "I'd guarantee you a life of no more wedding BS though."
"You're probably right. How long you been sitting on that?”
"Just came to me," he admitted. "But you can't tell me it's not an amazing idea to get everyone off your ass."
"Thank you for not going to those lengths," you said as his head fell back and he kept giggling. Yes, Rooster was a giggler after a few drinks. And it was adorable.
Looking back at you, he said, "I guess we're almost done though. Since I have this," Rooster grinned widely, flinging the bride’s baby blue garter at your face. You flicked it right back and he caught it easily. He'd mortified you that he'd made such a spectacle to get his mitts on it earlier in the evening - he literally speared a dude to get to the front and leapt over the Best Man to catch it. "My Little League coach would be so proud today."
"You're the worst," you reached for his whiskey as he looked on proudly.
"You disappointed us as a couple and missed the bouquet to boot but I forgive you because you've graduated to a very sexy drink. That's my girl," he raised his eyebrow, waiting patiently for your sip, which you did gladly.
"You're such a dick," you could only respond, handing the glass back as he chuckled, putting the garter back in his breast pocket, patting it safely.
"Taken you 30 years to figure it out - that's more on you than me though," he teased.
"Last song of the night, friends," the MC of the band announced as Rooster offered you his hand. "Your bride and groom are ready to kick into matrimonial bliss part of the night and we all have to head home at some point!"
"You're not getting out of this. It's our last dance as fake lovers," he said, giving you the creepiest bedroom eyes, or you supposed, that you’d ever seen. How had he managed to bed so many women if that was his game, you'd never know (you assumed it was probably a lot less effort than batting his lashes, to be completely honest), and you shook your head with a smile. He stood to his full height and offered you his calloused palm. You naturally accepted, lacing your fingers through his. You loved the warmth his hands gave yours.
"Can you never say 'lovers' again?" you asked, spirited, as he spun you under his arm, leading you to the dancefloor, laughing loudly.
"Never," he promised as the song began. The band started Elvis' "I'm All Shook Up", most people in the room made their way to the dancefloor and Rooster praised the gods. You liked the song but loved the joy it clearly stirred in Rooster more. You adored how much he loved music, though he admitted he was never taught piano, guitar, or even drums but was pretty good at each of them, or he liked to think so. He played by ear and enjoyed experimenting with sounds. You'd romanticised Rooster playing at home in the quiet, just for himself, tinkering with keys, strumming strings. It made you kind of weak to think of him creatively like that. He was certainly full of surprises and you were yearning to know more.
He was unlike anyone you knew - you'd learned so much tonight and appreciated the human he was more than just the talented pilot most assumed of him, you thought maybe he appreciated people thought he was fairly one-dimensional, he liked his space and privacy. "New one to learn for the bar?" you offered as he pondered the question.
"Shit, maybe," he contemplated with a nod and he pulled you close. While not an incredibly slow song, Rooster actually moved quite well. Yet another thing you had learned about him tonight and he pulled your back to his chest, keeping you pressed to him, his hands spreading across your belly, keeping a respectful amount of space between your bodies. He took your hand and spun you back to him, facing the other again and he smiled slow, a smile you'd certainly never seen before but enjoyed thoroughly as his hands moved to the back of your ribs, dragging you closer to him.
He loosened a hand and put your arms around his neck, the height difference between you bringing your body crushed against him and it felt kind of... perfect.
"Thank you for tonight," you said, just between the two of you. He smiled faintly, his hands caressing your back. Once he'd found access to skin, his hand kept a close touch all night and your back felt cold without it.
"It's really me that should be thanking you," he admitted, lips dangerously close to your ear and you'd deny it, but it shook you to the core. Looking at him, your feet stopped moving and the world may have stopped too. Here he was, right in front of you, just like he always had been... but he was completely new to you now. "I haven't had a night like this in a really long time," he continued earnestly. "Almost felt like a real date."
You had lost the ability to talk, because thinking about it later, you'd realise, this was the first of many nights like this. But it wouldn't pretend anymore. He would be yours, and you would be his right back. And the pretence would be gone; traded for romance that didn't need to be held back, touches on skin that meant something because it was their skin you'd touched so many times before, still able to draw the same spark as it had tonight.
Rooster's lips met your forehead, leaving a lingering kiss against your skin and you held him just a little bit tighter. "I got you, kid," he told you softly but wasn't quite sure why he added, "You're safe with me."
And you may have believed him.
"Do you two want a lift?" Annie asked as the festivities started to come to a close. The bride and groom had left, guests were starting to organise themselves to do the same, the band was packing up and the music was over for the generic 'get the fuck out of our venue now' muzak. After your last duties for the evening to help Sarah's parents collect the gifts and load their car, you went back to the table to collect your belongings, thankful it was all finally over... as well as the evening.
It was a long day, and saying you were exhausted, physically, mentally... emotionally, was an understatement. Things were a bit muddled to you now and you were feeling a little unhinged at the growing flutters in your tummy while so close to Rooster. He was currently holding your bouquet and your clutch like it was absolutely no big thing.
"Rooster, I don't think you should drive. I can get you both back. I'm the designated driver for another three weeks and one day," she looked at her belly, accusingly. "Unless you'd like to come sooner, please?"
"Shit," he muttered. He had probably had one or two drinks too many, he realised. Palming his keys in his pants pocket, he replied he would just walk back to base. Wasn't at all far, he had his credentials. Fresh air would sober him up anyway.
"You sure?"
"Yeah, absolutely. Thank you though. I'm sure your little sister will get me back safely," he joked entirely for Annie's benefit. But your feet, your poor feet were shredded. You gave yourself kudos, you'd done the right thing and kept your heels on the duration of the day, but all you could imagine was peeling them off and preparing for the onslaught of blisters and discomfort as soon as humanly possible.
"Okay," she grinned. "Take care, Rooster," she hugged him and he hugged her back, trying to avoid her baby bump politely. "So good to see you."
"You too, Annie," he replied fondly. "I had a great night."
"Don't be a stranger when you're in town. Let's do this again soon. Come over for dinner, bring her," she nodded to you.
"I might," Rooster gave her a shy smile and Annie hugged him again. "I'm thinking of moving back so you may be seeing a bit more of me anyway," he said and your ears pricked up, this was brand new information and your palms may have clammed up a little.
"You should, everyone would be so happy you're home," she told him.
"Definitely thinking about it," he promised.
"Good, Please get my sister home safely?" she warned him.
"Of course, she's precious cargo," he smiled as Annie kissed you and waddled over to Arron, her extremely drunk hubby.
"I could have gone with that lift," you told him as you watched them leave. Your poor feet.
"Nah, you're okay," he said. "Let's go for a walk."
"Rooster," you protested. "I might cry."
Rooster pouted. "Then I'll piggyback you," he broke into a smile as a few of the single bridesmaids said goodnight to you both. "Come with me. Got an idea," he urged, nodding towards the door, not waiting for you and taking off in his strides in that direction. Moving as quick and gracefully as the heels would allow, you caught him at the door where he took your hand and you followed him to the beach. It was pitch black minus the moon's reflection on the water, nearing midnight when he stopped at the edge of the grass to sand and watched him unbutton his jacket to sit. You did the same. "Feet, please?" he asked quietly.
Confused, you weren't sure why you offered him your left foot, but his fingers made haste unbuckling the silver heel you had been wearing for hours and hours.
"Gentle," he told himself as he pulled the off, and held his palm out for your other foot that you gratefully offered, the relief almost instantaneous. Putting your heels together, he lightly pressed into the arches of your feet, your ankles, your calves, the pain worth it for a few moments, looking at you with a gentle frown to make sure he wasn't hurting you, but it was definitely worth it. "Okay?" you nodded as he slipped off his jacket and left it in a pile with your shoes, purse and bouquet. He unlaced his loafers, took his socks with them and cuffed his slacks up to his lower calf although there was little give to them. "Shit," he muttered, pulling at the wrong piece of his bowtie and knotting it tighter.
"Here, Roost," you said softly, sitting up to kneel, he watched you in keen interest as your fingers worked to loosen the tie. Knowing he'd made it worse before it unravelled under your touch, you smiled as he happily unbuttoned the first few holes on his shirt, showing a little of his strong, golden chest and a light smattering of dark hair.
"Thank you," he said quietly. "Up," he got up slowly, finding the buttons on the cuffs of his shirt and rolling both to his muscular forearms. He smiled, offering his hand. He pulled you up, your sore feet sending you careening into him softly. He nodded towards the water and followed you through the sand.
The night was cool, but in the height of summer, not unbearable by any stretch of the imagination. Stopping right before the waves, you looked back at him.
"I promise you, those feet will feel a million bucks in about 15 seconds," and he hitched you into his arms, taking you out to his knees, lowering you amid squeals of cold and a now damp skirt around your thighs. He didn't give you space, he stood behind you, his hands resting on your belly, chin on your hair. You felt him sigh behind you.
"Dammit, Rooster," you cursed him although grinning in the madness, trying not to shiver as the waves splashed around you. It was a little chillier in the water than you would have liked, but Rooster was close and he was almost radiator hot. "It's f-f-freezing," you chattered.
"It's the ocean at midnight," he said in your ear. "What were you expecting?" he posed a good question. "But your feet don't hurt now, do they?"
"Actually, I can't feel them... because they're numb," you replied, your toes thumbing in the sand beneath you, it grounded you and felt so familiar. You loved it, craved it. The grains felt good and if you squinted, you could almost avoid the slight needling of your feet as they started to relax and unwind.
"You're the water," he murmured to you quietly, his voice lower than the ocean's bustle around you. "I know I'm the clouds. But you're the ocean. You need it. I've always known that about you. I see you some mornings down here, in the waves if I run late. I never see a crease or concern on your features, you're just one with the water. It's pretty sexy, actually."
You wished he'd stop talking because as he adjusted his hold on you, leaving one hand on your hip, the other arm wrapping around your shoulders, you only reaffirmed how good you fit against him. "I love that," you admitted, taking his hand and he sighed again. He was right, though cold, this was your happy place. This is where you desired to be, in the water and the freedom and terror that came with it, how it could make you teeter so easily and push you out of your comfort zone. And he knew all about it.
Above you, Rooster smiled to himself. He was starting to really enjoy holding you close, learning the curves of your body, how you could find the perfect place to find calm in his arms. "Hey?"
"Hmm?"
"I had a really good time tonight. It... didn't feel forced or contrived. Why haven't you and I done this before?"
Because we didn't see each other this way before Natasha threw us together, you wanted to say. We can laugh, we can play and have fun, team against anyone and not think anything of it... but tonight has categorically changed our friendship because I can't go back to just being your friend, Rooster. I think it would be easier to lose you than find out you didn't want to be with me this way again.
You stayed silent, you had just tortured yourself with your inner monologue as it was. "You are absolutely shaking," Rooster said, softly, maybe now regretting his idea and his fat fucking mouth just a little. "I think it's time to get you out of the water."
"I'm okay," you lied as he rubbed your arms where he could see the goose pimples rise. He couldn't stop the shuddering even in his stranglehold.
"Out you get, kid."
You nodded thankfully. The adrenaline coursing through your veins was not enough to keep you warm and only caused you to tremble more. "Sorry," you said as he released you from his clutches and moved before he could say anything else.
And just like that, the moment passed.
Rooster sighed, watching you make your way to the beach. He knew he'd scared you. You knew he was opening his heart to you, and just like Natasha joked about your commitment fear, maybe it wasn't too far off the mark and that made him sad for all that you had missed and what you could miss out on. He began to follow you as you sat back near all the gear you'd removed, closing in on yourself. Rooster ran the last little while up the beach and retrieved his jacket, putting it over your shoulders. "You okay, kid? You're blue."
"Can't stop shaking," you could only reply and he swore he heard your teeth chatter. "But I'm okay."
"Come on, let's get you home," he tossed all the gear except the flowers into his jacket and tucked it under his arm then offered you his hand to help you up. He used a little more force, driving you into him and he wrapped you into his arms - he was very good at bringing you close and he knew, not once had you fought it. "I didn't want to scare you before. I'm sorry I was so forward."
You gave a little shrug. "Don't worry about it, Rooster. I'm just a big girl with big problems," you said simply.
"Do you think you know... why you don't want to get close to me?" he asked, almost not wanting to know the answer.
You looked up at him and he knew the kicker was coming. "You have I have very different daddy issues," you told him. "When my dad left, I thought he'd come back. For years I thought I could try and make him want us again... but my sister and I weren't enough and if he could leave us, who he was supposed to love so fucking easily, it doesn't give you much confidence as an adult. He picked another family over us, I have other siblings I don't even know. The shit sticks."
Holy shit, Rooster thought, his knuckles rubbing against your back. He paused and held you tightly. He didn't know that... hell, he did but certainly not to that deep an extent and maybe your issues were a little more deeply rooted than Natasha had alluded to. He certainly couldn't blame you for that.
"You mean something to me, and ruining anything with you would destroy me," you continued. "I appreciate our friendship and that comfort that brings me."
He nodded. It felt like a kiss-off, that was for sure. "I wasn't asking for the rest of our lives," he said quietly.
"I know," you pulled back, needing to be completely out of his reach. "But I just don't know what to tell you right now."
"And that is the end of our first fake date," Rooster said, hating to admit he was kind of relieved as you got back to your apartment. He followed you to the front door and wanted you to feel as safe as you could in his presence because you hadn't said it... but everything had changed, and he knew it too. He didn't expect the night to go like this, but he knew, like you... things couldn't be the same again now.
You gave him a gentle smile and his heart fluttered, he'd always loved your smile, but shit... it was his now. He left your heels neatly at the stoop. "I hope today wasn't a total bust for you. Now you know how good I am at ruining good things," you poked fun at yourself. "It's a wicked character trait."
He sighed, dropping his eyes. "Why would you think that being honest with me would ruin anything?" he had to ask, putting his hands in his pockets. "Don't you think I appreciate that more?"
"I dunno," you leaned back against the door as he looked back at you, chewing your lip and God, he wanted to be the one chewing that lip. Vulnerability to most people could be seen as a red flag but to him? You were telling him things that you'd never told anyone, and that was almost sacred and it would always mean more. He knew you trusted him, but made him uneasy that it wasn't with your heart. "Do you?"
He rolled his eyes, a faint grin on his face. "Yes. I do appreciate that more. I've learned more about you tonight than I have in the last 30 years, which is kind of awesome... and terrifying."
"Terrifying?" you repeated, a little disappointed as he stepped closer.
"If you think for one second that you scaring me is a bad thing, you are kidding yourself," of this he was certain. He wasn't scared to be out of his comfort zone with you.
You finally smiled and shook your head gently. "I had a wonderful time tonight. Thank you, Rooster. I owe you, big time."
"Don't be crazy. I drank top-shelf booze, ate more cake than I have eaten for years, and I got to spend my night with you. We'll call it even."
"Well, thank you. It really meant a lot. And it won't happen again, there are no weddings or other OTT celebrations in the foreseeable future."
"That's a shame," he laughed quietly.
There was a slight beat before your rationality kicked in. "Well, I should go in," you told him, pushing back off the door and reaching for your keys in your clutch. "I'm sure you've got an early morning."
"Class," he acknowledged.
You nodded. There would always be something. "Goodnight, Rooster," you said as you unlocked the door and took a step in before pausing. Rationality be damned. "Unless you wanna come in?" you called softly in the dead quiet of the night. You could see his brain working a million miles a moment.
This wasn't something you and Rooster did, you didn't hang out together this way, it was always in a group, always someone else to play the distraction. "Yeah, I really do," he admitted, standing before you. The air around you had changed and you swore it wasn't just you that noticed it. For the first time tonight, his nervousness was evident and he put his palm on your cool cheek. Licking his lips, he admitted, "I really wanna come in," he said quietly, resting his forehead against yours.
His eyes searched yours as you pushed the door open and your hand found his. He followed willingly, quietly kicking the front door closed as you led him down the small hallway to your living room. Low lit from the lamp you'd left on for your late arrival, Rooster was interested to check out your place. Quaint, but it was quintessentially you. Linen in neutral and blue, a stash of books on the coffee table. A home. "Do you want a drink?" you asked.
Erring on the side of caution, he responded 'water'. He was starting to cut it fine of being in a proper state for the following morning and while he could take his liquor, the last thing he wanted was a hangover in an F-18. You came back to him with a cool glass and he gave you a small smile of thanks. He tossed his suit jacket on the end of the couch, finally happy to be rid of the silly thing.
"Do you mind if I get changed? This dress is clogged with sand, it's wet and damp."
"Course not. Go make yourself comfy," he said with a small smile as he watched you walk away before he preoccupied himself with the endless photos on your wall. A tasteful aesthetic of beautiful white frames with a mix of colour and black and white photos stored in them, he felt the love and consideration you'd put into the curation of images. And holy shit, if it wasn't you on his Mom's hip. You were crying and she was trying to appease you in any way she could. He took the photo from the wall and you wandered back a few minutes later, hair down, oversized Lakers t-shirt and you saw what he stared at.
"Mom said I had just been told I couldn't get an ice cream from the ice cream truck," you filled him in. Rooster actually laughed.
"That's the cutest fucking thing I ever heard."
"And Carole was trying to tell me she could get me ice cream from your place even though my mom was saying no, but I didn't want it anyway because it didn't come from the ice cream man. Naturally."
"That's amazing. This is about the last photo I would have ever expected to have seen, you know?"
"You can have it if you want. I mean, I'm a screaming three-year-old, but your mom looks absolutely beautiful."
"Always," he said softly and put the photo back carefully on the wall. "You keep it, it gives me something to see when I am here."
You shrugged easily and took a seat on the couch. He took a hint and went to join you, taking a cool sip of water to regulate. This was just not how he saw the night going. Sure, he was a man, he had eyes in perfect working order. He wouldn't lie and say he hadn't memorised every curve of your body, your smile and that absolutely devastating self-deprecating wit but there were plenty of other distractions in his wake. But here you were, right before him. And you, at that moment, were perfect but he didn't know what you wanted from him and it ate him alive.
"What time is class tomorrow?"
"Eight," he replied.
You gently reached for his hand, avoiding his eyes and tracing over the callouses and his lifelines. "I'm sorry about before," you said finally. "I am really good at finding ways to make a night nosedive."
He shook his head, laying an arm against the length of the couch in hopes you'd shift just a little closer again. "No, fuck no. Please don't apologise."
"You know more about me tonight than most people know in a lifetime. I'm really not the sharing kind."
"That... I knew," he with a smile. "I kind of figured we were a bit alike that way anyway. But it gives me a little bit of hope. I'll weasel my way in," he said confidently. "You'll regret opening yourself up to me," he teased as you laughed heartily.
"Using my trauma against me," you fist-pumped and he was so relieved you could see the funny side to it as he scooted a little closer since you didn't. "Awesome."
"I promise I never would do that," he said sincerely. "I have enough baggage to take everyone in this damn town out."
"That's true," you agreed. "What a mess we are."
"You're not a mess. You have your reasons, just like I do," he let go of your hand and reached into his shirt, pulling out his dog tags. "These have been driving me mad all night. Think they're imprinted into my chest..."
"Can I see?" you asked as he shrugged and slipped it over his head, gently putting it over yours and letting the tags jangle across your heart. You picked it up and looked at the imprints of his name. "Bradley N. Bradshaw," you spoke. "What do you think your parents were thinking when they gave you more or less the same first and last names?"
He laughed loudly. "Bradley was my mom's dad's name," he explained. "And it was the 80's. I guess they thought it just sounded cool. They didn't think of what it might be like for me at 34."
You grinned, tracing the bumps of his ID. "I forgot what these felt like. Dad's, Grandpa's. Having them in my hands like they were a toy, and what they really stand for."
Rooster didn't speak. He understood what you meant without having to go into it.
"Roost?"
He hummed in reply.
"Have you thought about settling down?"
"I've thought about it," he shrugged simply. "I haven't really found anyone who I want to settle down with. Last thing I want is something that doesn't last. I want to feel like my parents did - I can hardly remember it... but the way Mom spoke about Dad after he died? That's something to strive for, you know? I know she was sick... but she really died of a broken heart in the end," he said quietly.
Holy shit... you thought.
"When I find the one, I'll know," he added, taking your hand back into his and this time, he avoided your gaze as he drew circles around the pads of your palm. "I'm sure of it." He was sure of it.
"And here I was thinking you loved being a bachelor and the notoriety of the Navy," you said, and he appreciated the teasing as he laughed, scratching his neck.
"I mean, yeah. There are some benefits to not settling," lifting his gaze back to you, he pondered again. "I'm not really that guy that falls quickly."
You nodded, you knew what that felt like and you knew he was growing weary of sharing hour, so you decided to make things more interesting. "I've asked Natasha this and was not remotely surprised with her response. But I'll ask you too because I know you wouldn't lie to me... What's the greater thrill: flying... or fucking, Rooster?"
Rooster chuckled quietly. "That is going directly for the jugular," you saw his lips move, but sounds didn't follow through. "I love flying," he looked up. "My fate is sealed, but the right person? Jesus, fucking the right person could make you wanna give it all up, you know?"
"No, I don't," you pressed, your brain trying to decipher his answer. "That's why I asked."
He smiled, a small tint of red creeping up to his cheeks. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"
"I think I like making you squirm," you said simply as dropped his eyes, coy all of a sudden.
"Oh, I get it now," he thought about it. "If it was life and death, I would, I can't believe I'm saying this... but I'd fly."
"Oh, my God," your jaw may have hit the floor. It just was not the response you were expecting but told you a lot about Rooster's priorities.
"As I said, if it was the right person..." he tried to over-correct himself as you bit back your grin, covering your mouth with your joined hands.
"I'm speechless," you continued to needle him.
"Okay, if this is the little game we want to play - " he announced, smacking the top of your hand.
Oh, fuck.
"My turn, then," he said straightening up and you panicked, and he grinned because he could see you were clearly panicking. "Why haven't you really settled? You could have found the guy that it could have all worked with. You're smart, fucking hilarious, beautiful. Now don't get me wrong... but for most guys, that's all they need. We're not overly complex creatures."
"Honestly?"
His hand that was in yours clamped down and was trapped in his strong grasp. "Honestly."
"I don't think I'm ever going to find what I'm looking for. I haven't found someone that can keep my attention for long enough."
He stayed silent, he wasn't convinced.
You grunted and continued. "I date. A lot. I am just not broadcasting how average these dudes are I'm dating. Why do I want to spend my time with someone with who I don't spark with?"
"Do you really have a problem with commitment?" he asked pointedly.
"No, I have a problem with assholes," you replied smartly. "You haven't settled down, do you have a problem with a commitment?" you threw back.
He rubbed his moustache and he considered his answer. "No, I'm content with not being ready to settle down yet."
"So, yeah. You kind of have a problem with commitment," you laughed as he nudged you.
"I realise I'm in my prime," he shrugged, giving his ego receiving a nice self-stroking. You didn't mind Rooster talking himself up, it was incredibly sexy, truth be told. He was generally pretty modest about all that kind of stuff and kept his business to himself but really, he wasn't completely unlike his friends and co-workers. He knew he good a good-looking dude, his voice could turn you inside out (you figured), he could command a presence fairly easily, and women were putty in his hands. It wasn't a lot of effort on his behalf.
Grinning widely, you snuck closer to him, sitting on your knees and he watched his hands fall to his thighs as you released yourself from his grasp. God, you loved making him writhe and he dared you to ask what you were thinking. "I'm not stupid, Rooster. I know you get a handful of numbers when we go out."
"How many of those girls do you think I call?" he asked, thoughtfully. He knew you were getting off on this, taking the focus off you and pinning it on him. He didn't mind, he knew you were enjoying this little game of cat and mouse, and you weren't really offended by any of his questions, so he couldn't be either.
"You tell me," you whispered.
He adjusted his posture and he took your chin in his palm, his thumb imprinting on your chin. God, you were right there, so close... desperate to be kissed. "I like the chase," his voice low. "But the chase isn't all that much a challenge much anymore," he admitted and his wrist started beeping. 4am. He needed to go. He silenced it. "Saved by the bell," he announced. "That's my alarm."
"And just when we were getting to the juicy bits," you sighed as he kept your gaze, a small smile on his face.
"We can continue this if you like. At a more respectable hour."
"No thank you," you said quickly and he chuckled quietly.
"I'm not surprised by that."
You smiled shyly. "Sorry."
"Fuck, you're so beautiful, do you know that?" he couldn't stop himself from saying. It just had to be said and put out there. Great, now it was done, he reasoned. You didn't break his gaze, you were daring him to make a move. He licked his lips and had to laugh. He'd already made the move. If you wanted him, he decided... the ball was in your court. Come and claim me, he wished.
"Roost?" you said again.
He raised an eyebrow in reply.
"Stay."
"No," he said, sitting forward. Fight for me.
You got to your feet and pushed him back against the couch, a small grunt bristling as you stepped between his wide legs. He reached for your hamstrings, his hands massaging against your bare skin as he raised his eyes to you. It was powerful and intimate and he didn't know if he trusted himself to be touching you like this.
"If you've got something to say... this would be the time to say it," his voice thick with desire, daring you.
"Stay," you repeated, your fingers coiling into his sun-kissed ringlets, giving them a gentle tug as he slowly licked his lips.
"Gonna need more than that," he told you, pulling you flush against him, helping you straddle him, his arms in a vice grip around you.
"Stay for me."
He bristled a laugh as you reached for a button on his shirt, dainty fingers making light work of the straining material over his chest. "Think I'm gonna just fuck you after all this?" he removed your hands, placing them back in your lap where he silently prayed you'd keep them because his strength was waning and if you tried really hard, you'd have him exactly where you wanted him. "You really wanna make this about a quick fuck and I just up and leave?" he shook his head. "I think you know by now I want a little more than that."
"What do you want, Rooster?" you asked, your fingers tracing his scars, finding one on his jaw you were particularly fond of and tracing it, feeling him tremor beneath you. "Tell me," you said reaching for the hem of your shirt and he knew he was going for martyrdom as he held your shirt down, whispering a curse. "You don't want me?" you asked, easing back just a little, shocked and a little more than embarrassed.
"More than anything. Can't you fuckin' see that?" he took your face in his palms and he could see your resolve crumble, breaking him as your eyes shone with tears. "That's why we gotta wait."
Your gaze dropped, you hadn't felt rejected like this in a long time. You didn't feel sexy, you didn't feel desired and you absolutely did not feel like he wanted you regardless of the apparent sincerity of his words.
"Listen to me," his voice raspy from alcohol and exhaustion. "Tonight, before tonight," he confided. "I've thought about taking you in every position my mind could imagine. But every one of them was crude and in my mind, pure fantasy. Why do you think I didn't even think about saying no to any of this tonight? All these years and all we have to show for us is a cheap fuck? I got a little more respect for you than that, baby girl. I wanna turn you inside out," he whispered against your skin. "Why do you think I never made a move before? If you give me the green light, I will absolutely pray to you."
You had forgotten how to breathe and he kept your eyes locked to his.
"I want to worship you," he told you, repeating your name like a mantra. "Don't you get it?"
The blood was pumping so loud in your ears that you were finding it hard to focus. You were drawn out of your stupor as his alarm started buzzing on his wrist again. He was getting later.
"I gotta go," he murmured, his face so close. "Just think about it, okay?" he said quietly, kissing your temple.
"That will be the problem," you confided as he hummed.
"I hope so," he helped detangle yourself from him, letting you stand although your legs were absolutely jelly. He smiled at you finally, thoroughly wretched, and all due to him. "So many things I want to do to you," he breathed. "But now, I gotta go." He'd been short on time before, but nothing as bad as this made him feel.
"I'm not asking you to stay again," you threatened pathetically, and he heard the lies as clearly as you did.
He nodded. But he couldn't and he knew he didn't have to explain his duty... because of anyone who knew him, you understood this most. "See me out?" he asked.
"Okay," you murmured, following him by the hand down the hallway. You unlocked the door, and he pushed it closed again, leaving his palm and weight against it. You raised a surprised eyebrow.
"I just can't - " he closed his eyes, dropping everything he was holding and grasping your face tenderly between his calloused palms. "Please think about this."
"And if I fuck it up?" you asked, scared as reality started to kick in.
"What if I do?" he challenged. "Do we not owe it to ourselves to find out?"
You nodded, almost pained, pressing your hands to his chest because you needed the last few touches before he left you. "Yes, we do," and with that, his lips were on yours. Soft, unobtrusive, it felt like you'd been kissing him your whole life. Familiar and right, you didn't realise how long you'd been waiting for this. He was such a good kisser, and there was no going back now. The words were out there... his kiss had tainted you.
His hands left your face, tangling into your hair, it felt incredible. He smiled against your lips and lightly pulled back. "You only needed to say yes," he told you, holding your face, his warm hazel eyes dancing and he kissed you again, a little rougher this time, his large hands tangling into your hair, tugging at strands as they moved to your back, dangerously close to your ass. "I'm holding back so bad right now, because the second I give in, I will stay."
"Can't you call in?" you asked hopefully, reaching for his lips again, your hands drifting to his hips and his head fell back with a quiet sigh. He pleaded for your hands anywhere further north.
"If I don't front up today... every single person we know will know exactly where I am... and why," he said, voice laced in mirth.
You told him softly, "I will make it worth your while."
He groaned loudly, his body already ready and willing, pressed unyielding against you. "I believe you," he breathed. "The idea of being with you will be all I'll be able to think about today. God damn," he hissed, his alarm going off again. "Can I see you later?"
"I think that's a good idea."
He gave a small smile, pushing some hair from your eyes. "Good morning, fake girlfriend," he kissed you gently again, let go of you to collect his gear at your feet and forced himself into opening the door, stepping over the threshold purposefully. He leaned back and kissed you once more. "I'll call you later," he breathed, trying to gather some resolve.
"Tonight?"
He nodded. "Tonight."
"Okay. Good morning, fake boyfriend." But now... there was nothing fake about it.
"Oh, before I forget," Rooster pointed at you. You raised an eyebrow, leaning against the doorframe, the adrenaline of the evening waning as he started to wander away. "What are you doing the last Saturday of next month?"
You outwardly shrugged. At this point you didn't know how today would even pan out as he wandered back to you, lips painfully close to yours, his arms slipping around your waist again and you didn't want him to let go. "I dunno. Why?"
"I got a wedding invite through the week," he smiled kindly and you bit back a laugh. "Thought maybe you'd like to go with me..."
"Think you can keep this fake dating thing going until then?" you asked, caressing his cheek.
"I'm pretty confident we may not be fake dating then..." he said quietly, kissing you just one more time.
"Ballsy of you to assume."
He nodded. "Yep," his eyebrow quirked.
"Do you have to wear your dress uniform?"
"Yes," he sighed, recalling your first conversation.
"Damn. This suit is really good," you playfully teased him, knowing his dress uniform would likely bring you to your knees. White or blue, you didn't care. It would be utter carnage.
"I don't even think a dry cleaner would bring this back to its original glory," he admitted with a chuckle.
"Shame."
"Jesus Christ, I want to stay. Please tell me to leave," his eyes fluttered closed.
You smiled as he took a wide step back. "You'd better go."
He nodded, thankful for your push. "I'll see you later," he said and forcibly turned away, his feet taking him away from you and when he was out of your view, you felt the weight of his dog tags on your chest.
"Oh, shit."
masterlist.
A/N: Want to learn more about these crazy kids? Here we go!
The Relationship Experience - prologue
#notroosterbradshaw#rooster#rooster fanfic#rooster fluff#rooster top gun#top gun fanfiction#rooster x reader#rooster x you#rooster x oc#rooster x female reader#bradley bradshaw#bradley bradshaw x female reader#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw x you#bradley rooster bradshaw#rooster bradshaw#bradley rooster bradshaw x you#bradley rooster bradshaw x oc#bradley rooster bradshaw x female reader#bradley rooster bradshaw imagine#rooster bradshaw fic#the boyfriend experience
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little wallflower | bradley bradshaw x hearing impaired!reader
disclaimer: hello all. i wrote this for all of my lovelies who have loss of hearing, or have any type of hearing impairment, or am hearing and want to read a cute little fic. i myself am hearing, and i took a bit of inspiration from me being bradley, seeing as i work with a wonderful person who's deaf, and they are SO helpful and encouraging in my journey to get better at signing. if there are any inaccuracies, i apologise profusely - i tried my best to research what i could. seeing as i'm not american, i am learning ssl, and hope that I got the american signs right. please tell me what you think?<3
warnings: ignorance about hearing disabilities (nothing malicious at all, just good ol' norm thinking), bob being the mvp and a sweetheart, cursing. no use of y/n.
word count: 2.5K.
description: Bradley had seen you sitting on your own many times, and was bewildered as to why no one was talking to you.
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Bradley had noticed you a few times, often sitting by yourself nursing a beverage. Sometimes you were looking at your phone, and other times you were just observing the surroundings, smiling softly at the people who milled around. Bradley had never really seen you interact with anyone at all, except for ordering beverages from Penny, and then you always showed her your phone - something that puzzled Rooster a little. Perhaps you wanted to see if she had a particular drink that wasn’t too easy to get ahold of? Either way, he was enthralled by you. The way your soft smile lit up your face, and the way you seemed to be a little bit of a wallflower intrigued him. He also found himself wondering why you were always sitting alone. He’d only seen you once with another person, a friend who was gesticulating as you laughed - it was a very pretty sound, he decided, before he was ripped away by Payback to play pool.
Bradley always walked into the Hard Deck thinking that this would be the night he’d go over and talk to you - ask what you were drinking, where you were from, if you’d like to go out with him… but every time he chickened out, afraid that such a pretty person wouldn’t want a ruddy naval aviator who smelled of jet fuel and couldn’t stay in one place for too long. He kept his distance for a few weeks, stealing longing glances whenever he could.
One day, as he was sipping his beer slowly, Phoenix approached him with a roll of her eyes “When are you gonna make a move, Rooster? You’ve been staring for weeks,” she inquired, raising a brow at her friend.
“Make a move? Rooster?” Hangman smirked, letting his sentence hang in the air to rattle Rooster a little “who are we talking about?” Jake continued, his eyes scanning the filled bar. Natasha nodded her head towards you, and Hangman followed her gaze.
“Oh them? Don’t bother Rooster, they completely ignored me the other day. Wouldn’t even respond to my question,” this had Bob scoffing out an uncharacteristic laugh, that sounded somewhat like he was telling Jake that he was being an idiot. Hangman furrowed his brows, looking at Bobs’ smiling face “what’s with him?” He muttered as the WSO went up to get another bottle of water.
Rooster simply shrugged, watching you make your way over to the bar, near where Bob was stood.
“C’mon Roos, go talk to them!” Phoenix gave him a gentle push in your direction, and Bradley could feel butterflies thrash around his midsection as he cleared his throat before approaching you. You seemed to be deep in thought, waiting for Penny to help Bob with his order.
Standing next to you, Rooster looked down and smiled at you, before saying hi. You didn’t seem to notice at all, and Bradley suddenly wondered if perhaps Jake was right - you completely ignored him. Now, Rooster thought of himself as well raised - he didn’t want to touch you without your consent, but he also didn’t want to give up, even though being ignored was a pretty big sign you weren’t exactly interested.
He had to, though - he had to hear you say you weren’t interested before he gave up. So he reached out gingerly, only hesitating for a second before softly tapping your shoulder. You jumped as if you hadn’t noticed him standing there at all, and as you turned to look at him, your eyes had turned wide with surprise.
“Hi, I’m so sorry. I’m Rooster— I mean, my name’s Bradley, but uh I’m called Rooster by— uh… I was just wondering if I could buy you a drink?” He was rambling. Since when didn’t he know how to speak to a beautiful person? He could hear Bob barely containing his laughter behind him, and he had to fight the sudden urge to throw an elbow back to shut him up. You blinked, opening and closing your mouth a couple of times, with a pained expression. Damn. He’d blown it. He sighed and nodded slowly “I get it, sorry to have bothered you,” he felt dejected as he turned to leave, but stopped as he felt your hand on his wrist, and heard a sound that resembled “No”. It was soft, and little too quiet to actually make it audible in the loud, boisterous environment you were in.
He turned back, looking at you quizzically as you lifted a finger into the air - signalling him to wait as you tapped away on your phone. A frustrated noise left your throat as you scrambled to find the notes app you’d installed on your phone.
“They can’t hear you,” Bob spoke up from behind Rooster, coming to stand beside his pilot friend. Bradley looked at him, bewildered - what did that mean? Bob quickly waved a hand in front of your face, and Rooster slapped his arm - what the fuck was he doing? That was rude as hell. Bob only shook his head and laughed at Bradley’s exasperated look.
As you looked up, Bob smiled at you before signing with his hands swiftly. Rooster took in how your facial expression went from relieved to elated, smiling as you replied with your hands.
“Do you want me to translate what my idiot friend said?” Bob spoke softly as he signed, making that beautiful laugh fall from your lips again. Oh my god, Rooster thought, both he and Hangman were fucking idiots. You couldn’t hear them. He almost groaned at his ignorance.
He thought of himself as a man that was very ‘with it’. He considered himself a feminist, he thought everyone should be treated the same and that no person held any particular advantage over any other - he felt that people could believe in what they wanted and say what they wished as long as it didn’t hurt or put others at risk. But he had actually never really ransacked himself about his knowledge about hearing disabilities, which he felt slightly ashamed over now.
He watched you nod with a big grin, and he had to trust that Bob translated what he said (favourably, he hoped, perhaps Bob would take pity on him and wouldn’t translate into ASL how he’d fumbled it all). He watched you furrow your brow as Bob signed something that Bradley could only guess was “Rooster”, tapping his forehead twice with his thumb, his middle finger and pointer finger forming a V. He couldn’t be sure, but it made sense in his mind.
You locked eyes with him and his heart stuttered a bit as you smiled, repeated the sign Bob had made to his forehead and softly spoke “Rooster?” And then pointed right at him.
“They’re asking if you’re called Rooster” Bob smiled, he didn’t doubt that Bradley had surely understood, but Bob could tell that Rooster felt a little frozen under your gaze - and he figured he’d help kickstart this conversation by breaking Bradley’s little trance.
“Oh, yeah! I’m Rooster. Or Bradley.” He looked at you and then Bob before hesitantly trying to copy the sign they had made. You laughed and moved closer, adjusting his hand so it was at the correct angle before nodding at him with a big smile. Oh god, those butterflies came back with a vengeance having you standing so close to him.
“How do you sign ‘thanks’?” Rooster almost panicked, looking at Bob - was he being rude by asking Bob instead of you? Bob just smiled and put his fingertips, his palm open but not spread, to his chin before sliding it outwards ‘thank you’ he said softly. Rooster repeated the sign to your smiling face, and he felt as if he could stare at the way your eyes twinkled happily forever. It made his heart clench.
“I’m sorry that I assumed you could hear me,” Bradley said and watched as Bob made a fist, circling it in the middle of his chest before signing something else that was too fast for Bradley to differentiate. You just smiled at him and shook your head, Bradley took that to mean “don’t worry about it”, your facial expressions were so vivid and beautiful to him.
You signed rapidly to Bob for a few moments, holding your phone out briefly before you stopped. Bob smiled and turned to Rooster “They say they’re pretty good at reading lips, and that you two can use the notes app or texts if they can’t understand. You’re on your own now, pal” Bob smiled, patting Bradley’s shoulder.
“Bob, thank you so much. I had no idea you knew how to sign!” Bradley sighed, really feeling surges of gratitude to the WSO. Bob smiled before replying that his parents couldn’t hear, and he learned to sign and talk at the same time.
“That’s fascinating,” Rooster replied with a smile as you signed something to Bob that made him laugh. “What did they say?” Bradley asked eagerly, and Bob shook his head. “They said they appreciated me translating, but that they had a hard time with my accent” Bob smiled at Roosters bewildered face.
“I’ll educate you later. Have fun, man!” He simply said before retreating to the pool table. You took a hold of his hand gingerly, and Bradley felt his heartbeat pick up slightly at the feeling of your warm skin against his.
Making your way to the table you’d occupied earlier, he sat down opposite you. He felt a little out of his depth at first, talking whilst your eyes flickered between his lips and his eyes - but as he got more used to you taking a moment to write down a reply, or speaking shorter sentences in response, he felt as he would with any other person. He just wished he could sign as efficiently as Bob did, it would make everything so much easier for you. He wanted to learn how to sign so you wouldn’t have to concentrate so much on reading his lips. Why hadn’t he learned from the jump? It seemed silly now that not everyone was taught sign language in school.
You spent the night in that booth, laughing and getting to know each other, finding that you had quite a lot in common. Bradley thought you were just the sweetest, and he tried his best to not offend you or ask stupid questions - though sometimes they slipped out anyways. Like when he asked what type of music you listened to. He could kick himself. He actually apologized profusely before he saw you shake your head before typing on your phone.
“I hear a little bit. They call my impairment ‘severe’, but I can still hear some loud noises, and I love music that has a lot of bass in it - I love the thrum of the melody it gives” you smiled kindly at him, and he smiled back, grateful that you didn’t seem to mind explaining the most obvious things to him.
“It’s okay to ask about, you know? I don’t mind if there’s anything else you’re curious about,” you’d typed in after a beat, showing him the screen. He read the words quickly, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth, speaking slowly he asked how it was that you spoke - could you hear yourself? He felt stupid asking, but your voice was so sweet and soft, he was puzzled as to how one could form words without hearing them.
You smiled, typing away on your phone. You’d apparently lost your hearing after having learnt to talk, which made it easier to maintain the feeling of speaking certain sentences and words. You explained you preferred sign language, just because you couldn’t tell if your volume was too loud or too quiet, which explained why you’d spoken so softly, not wanting to seem like you were shouting.
Bradley smiled, mesmerized about your abilities, and he told you so as well. He could tell you were blushing at his compliment and that made him smile all the wider. Suddenly you took hold of his hand and held it to your throat before typing a quick “I can tell somewhat from how the vibrations feel in my throat when I speak - but it’s hard to tell what volume it’s at” and then you said “Rooster” out loud with that sweet voice Bradley had already come to love, even if it didn’t sound like everyone else. Perhaps that’s why he liked it so much. He could feel the vibrations that thrummed in your vocal chords, and he smiled. He’d never thought about any of these things.
You lifted your hand, raising a brow as if to ask a question, and he nodded - you placed your hand on his Adam’s apple. He laughed before saying that he thought you were beautiful. You smiled, looked down and blushed again before clearing your throat and slowly saying “You have a nice voice,”
Bradley beamed at the compliment “Yeah?” You nodded before typing “I can tell” with a little wink. God, he was a goner.
All too soon, Penny announced last round - and he made sure to swap numbers with you. You emptied your drink and typed out “I had a great time tonight. I’ll text you?” You smiled uncertainly, and he typed back “So did I. Please do text me so I know you’ve gotten home safe?” You grinned and nodded before wrapping your arms around his neck in a parting hug, waving goodbye sweetly before making your way out of the Hard Deck.
“Wow,” Rooster let out a breath as he made his way back to his friends who were slow to make it to the front door. Making eye contact with Hangman, Bradley groaned and said “Hangman, we’re fucking idiots,”
“I don’t even want to talk about it,” Hangman replied with a similar type of “fuck I’m dumb” groan. Bob was silently laughing behind them “That was absolutely golden,” he sniggered, throwing his arms around their shoulders and shaking them “Just two dumb pilots, huh?” He and Phoenix laughed.
“Jesus,” Rooster shook his head. “Bob. This was 'Rooster', right?” He signed and Bob nodded, laughing again “and 'thank you'” he repeated what Bob had showed him earlier. The WSO smiled and nodded at his friends eagerness.
“Can you help teach me sign language, Bob? I’d love to be able to talk to them better” Bradley sighed, wishing he could learn it all right this second. Bob smiled, he could tell this meant a lot to his friend, so therefore he said
“Of course, Brad. We’ll start with the alphabet tomorrow"
#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw x oc#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw x oc#rooster x reader#rooster x oc#rooster x you#tgm fic#bradley rooster bradshaw fic#my writing
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The Forgotten Nest (Epilogue) - Rooster
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw / Mitchell!OC (Cora)
Word Count: 1.4k
This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only
Warnings: Past Unplanned Teenage Pregnancy; Crying; Named Mitchell Daughter OC (Cora) and Named Mitchell-Bradshaw Son (Nickie) and other named OCs
Summary: Ten years after the uranium facility mission, Nickie returns to Miramar.
A.N. There are references to a previous unplanned teenage pregnancy (between two eighteen-year-olds) in this fic. There won't be any flashback scenes to the pregnancy, but the references are still there, so if that makes you uncomfortable, please do not read.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8
Master List
Nickie walked through San Diego International Airport, excited to get home and surprise his family. Walking through the crowd, Nickie beamed when he spotted his ride home waiting for him. Amelia Benjamin waved to him and hurried over to greet Nickie.
“Welcome home,” Amelia joked, pulling Nickie in for a tight hug.
“It’s like you’re actually happy to see me,” Nickie replied, hugging her back. Pulling back after a moment, Nickie grinned and gestured between them. “Hey, I think I’m a full head taller than you now.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Amelia huffed, poking him in the gut. “Now, let’s get going.”
“And that’s all the warm welcome I get?” Nickie called teasingly as Amelia walked away, causing her to shoot him a playfully annoyed look over her shoulder. “You haven’t seen me in two years and that’s all that I get?”
“You’ll get to walk home if you don’t hurry up, Prince,” Amelia mocked Nickie, causing him to sour.
“Do you really have to call me that?”
“It’s your callsign,” Amelia reminded him, grinning because she knew how much he hated it when people from back home called him by his callsign. “You get called that every day. Now, come on. There’s probably traffic.”
Nickie and Amelia caught up on their drive to the Mitchell house about everything that happened since they last saw each other. They still regularly texted and emailed, since Nickie was all over the planet these days, but it had been a while since they actually were able to sit down and talk like old times. But it never took long for them to find their rhythm again.
“And we’re here,” Amelia called victoriously, putting the car into park in front of the Mitchell house.
“In one piece. Shocking,” Nickie replied, reaching for the door handle.
“You’re the one with the ticket on their record,” Amelia shot back, causing Nickie to groan.
“One time! When I was sixteen. It’s been ten years!”
“And we’ll still never let you forget it,” Amelia laughed, sliding out of her seat. “Come on. Before they hear your big mouth. Leave your bag.”
Nickie followed Amelia up the stairs of his childhood home but stuck a bit farther back. Amelia turned for the kitchen, waving to everyone. Maverick and Penny sat at the table, chatting, while Cora walked around the kitchen.
“Hey, I brought a friend. Is that okay?” Amelia asked, causing Cora to pick her head up.
“You know it is,” Cora assured Amelia with a kind smile. “Where are they?”
“Just behind me.”
Amelia stepped to the side and Nickie walked further into his childhood home and into the view of his mom. Cora let out a shrieky gasp before rushing forward to hug her baby boy. Nickie laughed and hugged his mom back, letting her cry and hold onto him for however long she wanted.
“You told me that you wouldn’t be home for three more months!” Cora complained, rocking Nickie back and forth.
“Well, something came up,” Nickie replied, causing Cora to pull away and hold him at arm’s length.
“What is it?”
“I’ll be temporarily stationed in North Island for a few weeks,” Nickie explained with a proud smile.
“Top Gun?” Maverick called from his place behind Cora. He stood back, letting his daughter thoroughly welcome her son home at first, but at the insinuation that Nickie made, he couldn’t help but step forward. “You made it to Top Gun?”
“As of two days ago,” Nickie stated, causing Cora to hold a hand to her mouth.
“Oh, Nickie, we’re so proud of you!”
Nickie accepted another bone crushing hug from his mom and then one from his grandfather, who still somehow barely had any gray hair, before glancing around the kitchen. Releasing his grandfather, Nickie looked in between Cora and Maverick.
“Where’s everyone else?”
“They just went out to grab something. They’ll be back any second,” Cora sniffled, still choked up from the surprise. “Maybe I should call them.”
“I’ll do it,” Maverick offered, knowing that Cora couldn’t keep her voice level right now.
Nickie moved to greet Penny and catch up with her briefly before another set of headlights pulled into the driveway. Nickie stepped back into the hallway, out of sight of the main door, and waited for the rest of his family to come in. Rooster, now retired and working a more traditional nine to five, opened the door and held it open. A little girl with light brown curls and stark green eyes stepped inside, immediately moving to greet Cora.
“Mommy, Daddy took forever,” Carly Bradshaw-Mitchell complained, causing Cora to laugh and bend down to her height.
“He did, did he?” Cora asked, glancing up at her husband of six years.
“Nothing wrong with being thorough,” Rooster replied, not seeing Nickie quite yet. “Why’s everyone standing around?”
“Just a surprise,” Cora explained, standing back up.
Rooster frowned, a bit confused, but his daughter turned her head and spotted someone standing in the hallway. She tilted her head to the side suspiciously before she let out a gasp when she realized who the man standing in the hall was.
“NICKIE!” she shrieked before racing forward.
“Hey, Princess,” Nickie greeted his little sister, scooping her up and into his arms. “I missed you.”
Carly wrapped her arms and legs around her older brother, whimpering a bit. She looked up to Nickie more than perhaps anyone else in her life. And even though he was absent a lot because of his job, they FaceTimed and talked all that they could. And Nickie always made time for her.
“I missed you too,” Carly mumbled into his shoulder, refusing to let go of him. “You’re not allowed to leave again.”
“I’m not?”
“Nope.”
“Well, can’t argue with that,” Nickie chuckled, giving her another squeeze.
Rooster slowly approached his son, not wanting to interrupt the moment between the siblings, but still desperately wanting to greet his son after so many months apart.
“What are you doing here?” Rooster asked softly, still in a bit of shock.
“To see me!” Carly called indignantly, causing everyone to laugh.
“And I got called up,” Nickie replied, turning to his dad. “To a little school down the road.”
“Top Gun? You made Top Gun?” Rooster breathed out, not shocked but still immensely surprised.
“I start in two days,” Nickie explained, nodding along.
“Holy shit.”
“Bradley!” Cora admonished, shooting him a look and pointing at Carly. “Your daughter is right there.”
“I know I just—holy Jesus, Nickie, we’re so proud of you!”
Rooster couldn’t help himself anymore and pulled both of his children into a tight hug. Carly was a bit squished between her dad and her brother, but she didn’t mind it too much. It was better than Nickie not being home at all. Nickie kept an arm on his sister but pulled his dad in with his other arm, having missed him too.
It killed Nickie to hold in that secret about Top Gun for two days from his family. And now that the secret was finally out, he couldn’t stop smiling.
“Oh, come, let’s eat. You must be starving!” Cora called, still wiping tears from her cheeks. “And tell us all about the last few months.”
Nickie sat at the table, surrounding by his family with his sister perched on his lap. After all, if he was Prince—the callsign that he received after they found out about just how many aviators that he had in his family tree and extended network—then his little sister was rightfully Princess. And princesses got whatever they wanted.
Maverick looked between Nickie, Rooster, Cora, and Carly, remembering days in the distant past when he thought that an image like this would never be a possibility. But he was so relieved that those days were long gone and now, the Bradshaw-Mitchell family could just relax.
“He made it to Top Gun. Can you believe it?” Maverick wondered silently, glancing out the window at the setting sun.
He’s named after me, Mav! Of course, he made it! Goose would have said in return.
God help us all. Another Mitchell at Top Gun, Ice would have replied.
Smiling to himself, Maverick turned back to his family and simply enjoyed the moment.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8
Thank you again to everyone for reading, commenting, and reblogging this story!!
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No Worse Pain
Requested: yes
Summary: Bradley has been extremely stressed at work lately. You don’t want to add to that by telling him about the pain you’re in.
Word count: 1.2k
Warnings: periods, cramps, pain.
Pairings: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x fem!reader
Stupid fucking period cramps. In your entire life, you couldn’t remember another time when you wished for the pain to dissipate this badly. You felt like sobbing. For the past three hours, you had been curled up on the couch, hands clutching your lower waist desperately. You hadn’t had period cramps this bad for years. While you weren’t exactly sure what caused the pain to be this intense, you were silently praying that it would disappear soon.
Another wave of pain rolled through you, causing you to curl up even further and hiss quietly. Normally, Bradley would be curled up right behind you. Only, this week, he was conveniently so busy at work that even as the clock struck 11:00 pm, he was still nowhere close to coming home. So, you were left to find a way to deal with the cramps yourself.
However, nothing was working. You had taken painkillers and had a hot water bottle pressed against your lower stomach. And yet you still couldn’t find any relief. There was a random show playing in the background, but you couldn’t focus enough to make sense of it. You were so out of it that you didn’t even hear the crunch of your finance’s tires as he pulled into the driveway. Nor did you hear the door open with a loud creak.
It felt as if there was a 100-pound weight on his shoulders as Bradley stepped through the door and into your shared home. He hated the fact that he was only coming home to you this late at night. Usually, he was home in time for the two of you to share dinner. Lately, however, he had been coming home later and later. Over the past few weeks, Bradley’s workload had increased tenfold. He had stacks upon stacks of paperwork, plus training, and he was up for a new promotion.
The added stress had put a small strain on your relationship. A few arguments had been caused by Bradley’s newly added stress. However, they had been small and had quickly blown over. Now, as he kicked his heavy boots off and dropped his backpack onto the floor, all he wanted was to be with you.
He walked around the corner, ready to be greeted with the sight of you with your hair tossed up in a messy bun, pyjamas on and binging some new show that he had never heard of. But what he saw had him freezing for a second. The show was playing, just like how he had imagined, but you were balled up on the couch, whimpering quietly and turned away from the TV.
“Honey?” The second you heard his voice you were trying to hide the fact that you were in pain. With everything that Bradley had going on at work, you didn’t want to add more to his load. He immediately rushed forward and crouched down beside you. “Is everything okay?” The soothing feeling of his hand gently caressing your side had you wanting to burst into tears. Your emotions really were a wreck right now.
After taking a moment to compose yourself, you rolled over with what you hoped was a reassuring smile. “All good, baby. How was your day?” You silently pleaded that changing the topic would work. He hesitated for a moment, searching your face for any sign of pain before he relented.
“It was alright. Stressful as usual,” Somehow, that only made you feel worse. Knowing that Bradley had such a terrible day, the thought of him having to come home, expecting to relax, and having to deal with your pain instead made you feel uneasy. He noticed you wince when you shifted, your hand grasping your lower stomach. “Are you sure everything’s okay?”
Regardless of the pain, you plastered a smile on your face. Bradley seemed to accept your single nod and dropped the subject. Wordlessly, you stood from the couch and made your way to the bedroom, Bradley hot on your heels.
Getting ready for bed was a hard task when you were trying to mask how much pain you were in. You could tell that Bradley was still suspicious, but you were grateful that he didn’t say anything. You disappeared into the bathroom, popping a few more painkillers into your mouth and finished your business.
Bradley was sitting on the bed when you returned. You could only smile at him, kissing his cheek as you climbed into bed. The soft cry that escaped you as you sat down had Bradley’s head snapping over to you. He cooed softly as he wrapped his arms around you and held you against his chest. You began crying softly, hating the fact that you were putting additional stress on your fiance. “Honey, it’s okay.” He attempted to soothe you quietly, but your tears only fell harder.
“Darlin’, please,” Your fiance pleaded quietly, asking, begging you to tell him what was hurting you. “Just let me in.” His forehead knocked against yours and you could feel the love and sincerity rolling off him in waves. He wanted you to open up to him. He wanted you to share that with him. So you nodded.
You took in a breath and began explaining yourself. “I got my period this morning. You were already at work,” You noted when you saw that Bradley was confused. “Everything was fine until this evening. Then I got really bad cramps and nothing I did worked. It really hurts.” You whimpered quietly. Sighing, your fiance hugged you tighter and ran his fingers through your hair gently.
Even though you had told him what was hurting you, he knew that there was something you were still holding back. Bradley simply held you, waiting for you to open up on your own. And when you spoke, Bradley was shocked at the words that came out of your mouth. “But even though it hurt that bad, the hardest part was not telling you.” Your head was resting on his chest and the room was so quiet that you could hear his heartbeat pick up at his words.
Given the promotion that he was up against, you really didn't want to draw his focus away from his work. You knew how much Bradley wanted this and you would never be able to forgive yourself if you were the reason that he didn’t get it.
It took your fiance a few seconds to form a response. “I’m sorry that you’re in pain, princess. Lay down, let me help you.” You obeyed, shuffling under the covers and letting Bradley maneuver you. He moved you until you were laying on your side with Bradley spooning you from behind. The feeling of his warm hands sitting on your lower stomach had you almost moaning in relief. Even though you had tried all night to dilute the pain, the second Bradley’s hand hit your skin, you felt a thousand times better.
There was a silent communication between the two of you as you both drifted off to sleep, wrapped in each other's arms. No matter how busy or stressed Bradley was, you could share anything with him. It didn’t matter how big or small the problem, he wanted to know.
a/n: Hope you all enjoy! Thank you for reading and requests are open :)
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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
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Slap Shot || A Hockey AU
Jake Seresin, first round draft pick to the North Island Daggers. Possibly the best defensemen of his time. Breaking records in both the franchise and the league. Hot tempered and the biggest playboy in the National Hockey League.
Y/N L/N, new public relations hire for the North Island Daggers. Her job is simple, show the behind the scenes of the North Island Daggers and help boost their home crowd attendance.
But what happens when the Playboy King of the NHL finds himself in the middle of a PR nightmare and the only one who can help him is the new hire who can't stand the sight of him.
warnings: 18+ NO MINORS, smut, angst, enemies to lovers, work place harassment, misogyny, mentions of cheating, mentions of stalking.
teaser | coming soon. . .
prologue | coming soon. . .
playlist | taglist form
#top gun#top gun fan fic#top gun fan fiction#top gun imagine#top gun maverick#top gun AU#top gun maverick fan fic#top gun maverick fan fiction#top gun maverick imagine#top gun maverick AU#Jake seresin#Jake seresin x reader#Jake seresin x y/n#Jake seresin x OC#Jake seresin fan fic#Jake seresin fan fiction#Jake seresin imagine#Jake seresin AU#Jake hangman seresin#hangman seresin#hangman#hangman fan fic#hangman fan fiction#hangman imagine#hangman x reader#hangman x y/n#hangman x OC#hangman AU#Bradley bradshaw#Bradley rooster bradshaw
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Something Worth Remembering
Summary: You were hopeful that you’d be moved into your new house before Christmas, but after another renovation delay, that’s not in the cards. To your credit, you make the most of the situation, and Bradley falls in love with you even more because of it. But he’s determined to make your first Christmas together special, and sets out to plan a surprise that ensures the holiday will be one both of you will always remember.
Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Reader (no use of y/n)
(can be read as Forgetful Boy and Pumpkin from RYEWID, but not necessary to read that first)
Word Count: 3.7K
Warnings: Warm fuzzy Hallmark feelings. Language. Allusions to smut.
Notes: Some holiday action for my faves. Written for @bellaireland1981's Winter RomCom Challenge with the prompt "home for the holidays”. Also as part of The Forgotten Moments Collection, but can very much be read by itself.
—---
____
Bradley stopped short when he walked through the front door, eyes widening as he took in the scene in front of him.
“Um…Pumpkin?”
“You’re home!”
You popped up so suddenly from the other side of the counter in the kitchen that he jumped slightly in surprise. “Am I?” he asked slowly, closing the door behind him and bending down to unlace and take off his boots. You laughed brightly as you stepped around some of the shopping bags on the floor to get to him. He accepted the kiss from you eagerly, feeling the stress from another work day dissipate as he wrapped his arms around you.
“Contractors called,” you told him once you pulled back, resting a hand on his chest. Your ring sparkled in the light streaming in through the open curtains, and Bradley couldn’t help but smile before he registered the words. “There’s a delay with the electrician and the flooring.”
Bradley groaned, the familiar annoyance of hearing the word “delay” coursing through him. The home the two of you had purchased was a fixer upper, tucked into the end of a cul de sac in a neighborhood not too far from base. There was work that needed to be done to make it everything you wanted, but neither of you had anticipated all the headaches that would come along with that. It would be a long project, you knew, but the contractor you had hired had promised it would at least be livable within the first few weeks.
That had been nearly two months ago now, and the delays kept piling up. Barely anything had been done at this point, and he knew he’d have to call the administrative office tomorrow to extend the lease on the on-base apartment, again.
“Of course there is.”
You smiled gently, and Bradley couldn’t help but let some of the annoyance slip away at the soft look on your face. He took a deep breath and let himself relax, pressing a kiss to your forehead before releasing you. He gestured to the tiny apartment the Navy had provided you with, smaller than the shoebox you had called home back in DC, that definitely did not look like what it did when he left for work this morning.
“Is that why it suddenly looks like Christmas threw up in here?”
You threw your head back as you giggled. The sound caused a full blown smile to cross Bradley’s face, warming him from the inside out.
“I was holding out hope that we would be able to spend Christmas in our new house, even if it’s not finished. But since the electrician’s are delayed, the floor people can’t come until the 28th. So I decided to finally cave and decorate here instead. But I didn’t want to spend a bunch of money on nice decorations, because I want to save that for when we’re completely moved in next year.”
“So…”
“So I may or may not have bought out a good portion of the Dollar Tree Christmas aisle, and spent way too long deciding on white lights or multicolored lights for the $20 table top tree that I bought.”
Bradley laughed loudly, looking around your temporary home once again. Red and green and gold covered the minimal available surfaces, and a small lopsided tree sat on the corner table in the living room, a bag of what he assumed to be decorations sitting beside it. Your cat, Florry, was curled up on top of a pile of bright green garland on the floor.
"Who needs a fancy new house when we can have our own little tacky winter wonderland right here?"
Your eyes sparkled with delight as you spoke, clearly thrilled by the idea, or at least incredibly amused by it. Bradley knew that Christmas was your favorite holiday, and how much you loved the festive season. This would be the first one you ever spent together. When you had toured the house months ago, you had pointed out the perfect place for a tree and where certain decorations could go. You had been so excited to spend the holiday in your new home. As the delays started coming in you had adjusted just how grandiose your plans would be, but you had taken it in stride. Now you were only six days out from Christmas itself and you were once again just making the best of the situation that neither of you could control.
Not for the first time, he wondered how he had gotten so lucky.
"Alright, Pumpkin," he said, "Let me go change, and then I’ll help you make this the tackiest, most magical Christmas ever."
You grinned at him, a mischievous spark in your eyes. "Challenge accepted."
_____
The Dagger Squad had an impromptu and unofficial holiday party the next night at the Hard Deck, and it still blew Bradley away seeing you intermixed so perfectly with his friends, both old and new. You floated from conversation to conversation and when he wasn’t by your side, he watched you with a smile on his face. He knew you were perfect for him, but seeing you fitting in like this just reaffirmed it.
“How’s the house coming along?”
He looked over at Mav as he leant against the bar beside him, handing him a fresh beer. He was still getting used to being around his godfather after all this time, but they had settled into a peaceful kind of hesitancy as they relearned what it meant to be in the other’s life, and it was nice, even if Bradley had to remind himself to breathe sometimes.
“Slowly.”
His tone must have relayed how he was feeling because Mav shot him a sympathetic wince. “Another delay?”
“Yup.” Bradley let out a frustrated sigh as he ran a hand through his hair. “They can’t get the electricians in until tomorrow, which is when the flooring was supposed to go in. So now that got pushed to after Christmas”
Mav clasped a hand on Bradley's shoulder, offering a supportive squeeze. "It'll all come together eventually. How’s she taking it?”
He snorted as he brought the drink to his lips, taking another sip. “She handles stress and shit like this better than anyone I know.”
Mav smiled, nodding in what looked like approval. “You got yourself a good one.”
Bradley hummed his agreement and let his eyes stray to you, chuckling softly when he saw you dancing with Nat. Sometime in the last few minutes, you had stolen the Santa hat that Coyote had arrived with, the red and white material perched on your head. You twirled around with his best friend to the Christmas song playing over the jukebox, laughing merrily. You really did love this time of year.
You had told him that you didn’t care where you spent the holiday, so long as you were together. It was your first Christmas together, after all. But Bradley still felt guilty over not being able to get you into the house sooner. You had only been married for a few months, and you had given up your whole entire life to move out to California when he got permanently assigned here. It’s a decision you would make again and again, he knew, but he still wished there was something he could do, too. You had made far more sacrifices than he had. He wanted this holiday to be special. Memorable.
You were just a little bit tipsy when you got back to the apartment that night. You had clung to Bradley’s arm with both of yours the whole way up to the third floor from the parking lot, but the moment you walk through the door, you’re releasing him to go plug in the tiny table top tree. You plug in the string lights lining the kitchen counters next, humming a christmas song he can’t quite place under your breath as you do. You turned to him once the space was illuminated, the soft golden glow highlighting your smile.
“Pretty nice, huh? These cheap decorations aren’t so bad - I may just keep them for the new house, too.”
Your ability to make the most of everything made his heart stutter. He was in front of you in only three quick strides, one hand landing on your hip while the other cupped your face. He bent to connect your lips in a kiss. He could still taste the peppermint from the candy cane you sucked on on the ride home, and the taste of the champagne Penny had broken out at the end of the night for a toast. You didn’t hesitate to wrap your arms around him and return the kiss, both of you getting so lost in it that by the time he pulled away, he was panting.
“You must really like the cheap decor,” you breathed, and Bradley huffed out a laugh at your joke.
“I just really like you,” he quipped, and he enjoyed how a shiver went through your body at his response.
As you changed into pajamas and settled on the couch together, an idea started forming in his head. He thought he might know just what to do to make this holiday memorable for you after all.
_____
“Are you sure you don’t mind me running out for a bit?” you asked for what was probably the tenth time as you slid your sweater on over your head. Bradley groaned to himself as your body was covered from his view as he lounged in bed. He had been watching you get ready, enjoying not for the first time how getting dressed was almost always the last step in your process.
“I’m positive,” he said, also for the tenth time. You gave him a dubious look and he couldn’t help but laugh. “Pumpkin, I promise it’s okay.”
“I know, but it’s our first Christmas Eve together!”
Bradley moved so he was sitting on the edge of the bed, holding his arms open. You stepped between his spread legs and let your hands rest on his shoulders as he looked up at you, squeezing your sides through your red sweater. “Technically, it’s Christmas Eve morning. And I think you getting brunch with Nat and Coyote’s wife will be nice for you. You’ve been so busy with work and the move that you haven’t really had time to make friends.”
“I was already friends with Nat.”
He rolled his eyes at you fondly. “You know what I mean.”
You sighed again, fingers playing with the hair on the back of his head in the way that always calmed him down, even when he wasn’t feeling stressed out. He thought maybe the motion soothed you, too. “I think it’ll be fun.”
“Yeah,” you admitted slowly, nodding hesitantly. “I do too.”
“Then go. Have fun. I’ll be here when you get back, and we’ll spend Christmas Eve together. The morning doesn’t count.”
You snorted, but nodded nonetheless. He accepted the kiss you gave him right as your phone started ringing from the bedside table. Nat was there to pick you up, just like he had requested her to when he asked for her help with pulling off this surprise by getting you out of the apartment for a few hours today.
He gave it ten minutes after you had left before he jumped up and started taking down all of the decorations you had strewn throughout the apartment. It was easy work considering how small the place was, only taking him a few trips to and from the Bronco. He grabbed the small tree last, carrying it delicately so that none of the ornaments fell off and wouldn’t have to be reconstructed.
It didn’t take too long to get to the house at the end of the cul de sac that was now in both of your names, traffic light despite the holiday. He let himself in with the key that was still shiny with how new it was. He let out a sigh of relief when he flipped the switch and the overhead light in the living room actually turned on - with everything that had gone on, he wouldn’t have been all that surprised if it hadn’t. He made quick work of bringing in everything from the car, including the items that he had purchased and kept in the trunk without you seeing them this week.
He knew he had limited time, as Nat could only commit to a few hours of keeping you distracted, but it would be more than enough with what he needed to do. His phone buzzed right as he was finishing up a little more than an hour later, your name flashing up at him.
Pumpkin🧡: Getting the check! Back soon❤️
He sent back a response telling you he’d see you soon, quickly finishing up. He locked the door behind him and jogged to the Bronco parked in the driveway, and he was only back at the apartment for less than 10 minutes when you walked in the door with a large smile on your face that quickly morphed into horrified confusion.
“What happened to our decorations?”
“Hey, Pumpkin. How was brunch?”
“Were we robbed?”
Bradley barked out a laugh, shaking his head at your wide eyes. “Of our dollar tree Christmas decorations?”
You just gestured wildly around the space, devoid of any hint of the holiday cheer that had existed in its space earlier in the day. He laughed again, closing the distance to where you stood at the still open front door. He reached around you to push it closed before pulling you into him. He kissed your forehead, your nose, and then finally your lips, pursued in an adorable pout. “We weren’t robbed,” he assured you. “But I do have a present for you. Go get changed.”
“What?”
He squeezed your hips, smiling warmly. “Trust me?”
You eyed him closely for a moment before your pout eventually settled into a soft grin, and you let out a long sigh before you nodded. “Always.”
He kissed you again, a little deeper this time, but pulled away before he could get totally lost in it. “Pajamas are on the bed.”
“Pajamas? It’s 2pm!”
He only chuckled in response, playfully smacking your butt when you started walking back toward the bedroom. “Trust me.”
You got even more suspicious when you emerged from the bedroom and saw that he had Florry in her carrier at the door and had changed into his own pajamas. He twirled his keys around his fingers and then held open the door for you. Once you were in the Bronco, cat meowing at your feet, he held out a red silk piece of cloth that made your eyebrows shoot up.
“Seriously? A blindfold?”
“Think of it like a Christmas adventure. Now let me put it on.”
You huffed a breath but he knew you weren't actually mad - you loved surprises, and there was a smile tugging at your lips as you turned to allow him to tie the silk at the back of your head. He kissed your hair when he was done and turned to start the vehicle.
“You know,” you said casually, just as Bradley was pulling out of the parking lot, “this blindfold might come in handy later. We should make sure the headboard we pick out has appropriate accommodations.”
He groaned at the implication, a flush creeping up his neck on instinct. You giggled happily, knowing the effect you had on him. He rested a hand on your thigh as he drove, yours covering his in a familiar move. The feeling of your ring on his skin was one he had grown to love in the last few months since you’ve gotten married.
You threw out guesses the entire drive over, each one more extravagant and ludicrous than the one before. By the time he pulled into the driveway that one day will be an everyday occurrence, he was grinning so hard that his cheeks were starting to hurt.
“Don’t move,” he said when he saw you reach for the door handle. He jogged around the Bronco to the passenger side, opening your door. He helped you down before reaching back in for Florry’s carrier, pressing it into your hands so you could carry her, while he focused on you.
"Alright, Pumpkin," he whispered, his voice laced with eagerness. "Keep your blindfold on, and I'll guide you." His hand tightened around yours as he led you out of the car and towards the front door of your new home. Excitement coursed through him as he thought about your reaction, and he loved that he knew instinctively that it would be positive.
He loved that he knew you so well.
“Stay here just a second,” he instructed once he got you through the door. He moved away from you to quickly plug everything in, coming back to you once the room was cast both in the sunlight streaming through the windows and the artificial LED lights.
He stood in front of you, a grin playing on his lips as he watched you fidget with anticipation. Your blindfold was still securely in place, blocking your vision from the surprise he had prepared. You were so damn beautiful, and he would never understand how he got lucky enough to call himself yours.
"Okay, baby," he said softly. He gently took the carrier out of your hands, setting it on the floor and letting the cat out to wander the new space that he had cleared of anything that might hurt her, before moving to stand behind you. Your back flush against his front, he moved his hands up your arms in a smooth caress, settling on your shoulders and squeezing in affection. "You can take off the blindfold now."
With trembling hands, you reached up and slipped the silk cloth from your eyes, revealing the scene before you. Gasping in awe, your eyes widened as you took in the sight that unfolded in the living room.
“Oh my God. Bradley.”
The room was still very much a construction zone, but he had moved all of the decorations from the apartment, plus a few more that he had gotten, to decorate the barren space. The tree you had bought sat on the floor in the corner. Blankets lined the unfinished floors, as well as humongous cotton puffs to replicate snow. An air mattress covered with bright red sheets and a green blanket was in the middle of the room. Everything looked straight out of a tacky high school Christmas play, but it was so bad that it was almost good - whimsical and unique.
He watched as you took it all in, feeling his heart beating double time in his chest. When you turned to face him, there was a wide smile on your face, and tears shining in your pretty eyes. You didn’t have to ask for him to know what you were thinking.
“I wanted our first Christmas together to be in our home, even if it’s not finished yet. I figured we could camp out for the day. You-” The words were knocked out of him as you launched yourself into his arms. He held you for a long moment, pressing a kiss into your hair as your laughter settled. “You deserve something special, Pumpkin,” he finally finished, voice softer than it had been.
You pulled back just far enough to meet his eyes, your hands cupping his face. “All I need is you, baby. You know that?”
He turned his head just slightly to press a kiss into your palm, nodding once. “I do.” A smirk twitched at his lips, his mustache twitching with the expression. “Does that mean you want me to pack all this up and return your gifts, too?”
The gasp you let out was damn near scandalized. "Oh, no you don't!" you playfully swatted at his chest. You motioned toward the tacky decorations with a mischievous grin. "We can't let these go to waste. It's our first Christmas, after all."
Bradley chuckled, arms secure around you. "It sure is," he whispered, his voice filled with affection. He leaned down to capture your lips in a sweet kiss, the taste of anticipation lingering.
“Besides,” you murmured quietly, your eyes sparkling with a familiar look that had him warming from the inside out. “This gives us a jump start on christening the place. That air mattress looks mighty comfortable.”
Desire flared through him, and he wasted no time in scooping you up in his arms, carrying you bridal-style towards the makeshift bed. Your laughter echoed in the space as he laid you down.
“You know I’m gonna make you pack all of this back up and put it back up in the apartment until at least New Years, right?” you asked him, slightly breathless as he moved his kisses from your lips down to your neck, nipping at the skin.
Bradley chuckled, his hands pushing your shirt up, revealing soft skin that he loved to touch. “Oh, of that I have no doubt.”
Later, you lay nestled together underneath the green blanket, the crackling sound of a virtual fireplace playing from his laptop on the floor beside you while Christmas music played lightly from your phone. You were basking in the glow of the makeshift display as your breathing calmed. You pressed a kiss to his chest, right over his beating heart. He was sure that it skipped a beat at the gesture, but if you noticed, you didn’t comment on it.
“I can’t wait until we’re in here for good,” you whispered instead.
He hummed in response, tracing lazy patterns on your bare back. “Me too.”
You snorted after another moment, propping your head up to meet his eyes. “Hell of a first memory to make here, don’t you think?”
Bradley laughed lightly, a contented smile spreading across his face. It certainly was, in all of the best ways. “I’ll remember this forever,” he said, voice filled with warmth and conviction, because he couldn’t fathom ever forgetting any moment with you, especially something as perfect as this.
--------------
Main Masterlist :: The Forgotten Moments Masterlist
Notes: It's been far too long since I wrote anything for these two. I hope you enjoyed it! Likes/comments/reblogs are always appreciated if you did🧡
Thanks to @roosterforme and @mak-32 for all their help!
Tag List: @roosterforme @mak-32 @wildxwidow @gretagerwigsmuse @lilyevanswhore @too-fangirl-to-fuction @fav-fanficssss @notroosterbradshaw @teacupsandtopgun @sometimesanalice @sunflowersteves @littlezee80 @je-suis-prest-rachel @khaylin27 @infamous-reindeer @yanna-banana @avengersfan25 @wkndwlff @sylviebell @lt-spork @indynerdgirl
@mssleepy876b @kassieesworld @mizzzpink @a-serene-place-to-be @sexualparkour @sadpetalsstuff @almostgenerallyalways @alilstressyandlotdepressy @ccbb2222 @taytaylala12 @shelbycillian @mavrellover91 @vici111 @lunamooncole @blackwidownat2814 @pisupsala @bellaireland1981 @jynxmirage
@greatszu @na-ta-sh-aa @callsign-magnolia @chaoticassidy @thedroneranger @cherrycola27
#alli writes#bradley bradshaw: forgetful boy#the forgotten moments#winterromcomchallenge#bradley bradshaw imagine#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw x oc#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw fanfiction#bradley bradshaw#rooster imagine#rooster x reader#rooster bradshaw#tgm fanfiction#tgm#rooster x you#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader#bradley rooster x reader#bradley rooster x y/n#bradley bradshaw x y/n#bradley bradshaw x female reader#bradley bradshaw x you
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Glue Song (Pt. 1)
summary: jake tries to keep your existence out of rooster’s knowledge. (friends to lovers, pining)
pairing: jake seresin x female reader
warnings: negative self talk
a/n: haven’t wrote in awhile but glue song by beabadoobee and tgm brought me back...ugh i can't i love pining jake.
word count: 2.5k
next part
“I respect the guy, but he is out of his damn mind.” You watch as Jake momentarily pauses his rambling to take another chug of the latte you brewed for him.
“Maverick must’ve hit his head while landing during the last mission. Yeah, that must be why.” he concludes, almost entertaining himself, imagining all the ways the old guy could have begun to lose his sanity.
If Jake wasn’t so annoyed, he would have laughed at the made up scenarios playing out in his head. And of course, voicing them to you afterwards so you could laugh with him.
Noticing that some of the neatly decorated whip cream from his drink had found a new home on his freshly shaved face, you wet your hands in the sink and mindlessly reached over the kitchen island to wipe at his sticky chin.
He blinks back at you, the annoyed expression on his face faltering at your touch.
“There was whip cream on your face. You hate when things get on your skin.” you carefully whisper, pulling your hands back to begin cleaning the dishes again.
Worry began to brew in your stomach, you might’ve crossed a boundary.
After processing what happens, Jake just hums, pursing his lips at you in thanks.
Your body unravels at the notion, the tense muscles of your shoulders relaxing itself.
Jake watches you intently, eyes scanning over every detail of you.
There is a beat of silence as you two acknowledge each other. Your eyes meet in silent conversation. So touching Jake’s face was allowed, you two had agreed without having to say a thing to each other.
As if nothing happened, Jake regains his posture and furrows his eyebrows together once more, signaling that he’s ready to continue his stream of complaints–this becoming a new routine for you two on weekends where you are both off from work.
You couldn’t help but to smile to yourself in moments like these. Moving to San Francisco on your own was not an easy decision. Stability has always been something you craved, even if it meant not putting yourself first. But it quickly wore you out with time. You had a job you were unhappy with, shitty friends who you had kept around for the sake of having a social life, essentially trading in your sanity for the sake of stability. The knowledge that this might be how your life would span out, left you disoriented.
That one fateful summer was when you had decided it was time for a change, despite the fact it made you sick to your stomach to do something so sudden, especially all on your own. But, maybe a new location is just what you needed.
When you first arrived, reality hit you like a truck. All you felt was immense regret, you had no friends, you’re making less money now, and you didn’t know your way around San Diego at all. This wasn’t something you were used to, causing the doubts of your rash decision to eat at you whenever you had a moment to think to yourself. You should’ve never done this.
And as if your guardian angel saw your internal struggle, they sent Jake on your trail to ease all of it. All it took was his odd obsession with the way you specifically made his vanilla lattes, to keep him around—following your every move like he was tethered to you.
After a while Jake found himself not only sticking around for your applaudable barista skills, because there was you. Jake never realized he could possibly laugh so hard that it hurt until he started talking to you during his morning coffee runs. Before you, he had always thought that was just an expression–how was it possible to laugh that hard? And like any other guilty pleasure Jake had, he couldn’t help himself in indulging in you, not wanting to share you with anyone else.
After flight training, he’d unconsciously rush out of the locker rooms without saying goodbye to anyone in order to catch you after your shift. Just so he could walk you to your car as he accidentally bumps into you outside.
And as the weeks flew by, your shared activities quickly branched out from just friendly morning chats and Jake walking you to your car.
Now you found yourself spending weekends with him, where you had continued to make his coffee for him, but now just inside in the comfort of your own apartment. Playful conversations were had every morning, with you behind the counter and him seated across from you grinning ear to ear from hearing your laughter that he evoked from you. This became permanently ingrained into both your weekly routines. His excuse being that he can’t physically survive if you weren’t the one making him his morning coffee, so he obviously has to come see you every weekend. It was a no brainer, he told you.
“He is ridiculous.” he affirms once more before bringing his lips back around the rim, being more careful to not get his drink onto his face this time.
Although it might have seemed like he was rambling to himself, you had been nodding and quietly reacting to every statement he made thus far–assuring him that you were paying attention to him.
“That's funny, coming from the guy who was growing a whip cream beard one second ago.” you inquired.
“When did you stop being so nice to me?” he sulked, something he was specifically raised to never do. His father would have had a stroke if he knew his 30 year old son was habitually sulking now. But it couldn’t be helped, you drew out new behaviors from him, that he never felt ashamed about doing.
“If I knew you were like this, I would have never pestered you at work in the first place.” Though, Jake knew that if his day had been reset from the first day you two met, he’d undoubtedly pester you every single time.
“That’s too bad, isn't it?” You flicker some water on your finger tips at him.
“Hey, watch it missy.” he flinches, bringing a protective palm to hover over his drink.
“So, let me get this clear-” you redirected the conversation back to its original course.
Jake quickly shifts his attention away from the state of his drink and back to you.
“So Maverick..” he nods, confirming that you got his callsign right.
“...wants you and your co-worker Rooster to spend time together outside of work. At least once a week?” you cautiously recall what he told you.
“Yeah, isn’t that horrible?” he puffs his chest in defiance, expecting you to readily agree with him.
“Can’t be that bad though, right? Shouldn’t you two be working on becoming good friends, especially now that your dagger squad is an official detachment now? You’ll be seeing a lot of each other from now on.” you expressively shared your final thoughts with him.
He silently watches you rinse off the dishes as he soaks in what you said, with his brows pinched tightly together. You were right, he knew that.
“We get along fine, we’re kind of cool with each other after that first mission. Why be best buds?” he deflects.
“I want you to have more friends, Jake. Give it a shot.” you attempt to encourage him, while placing his dishes onto the drying rack carefully.
“I have you and Javy.”
“But you can also have Rooster. And who knows, maybe everyone else on the squad too.” you offered up with a smile.
“I have a week to plan our first bonding session.” Jake threw up his fingers in two sarcastic quotes.
“Cute. So like a date?”
You grinned widely watching Jake’s face fall flat.
“God. Please.” he scoffs, trying to fight off the smile making its way onto his face.
“Never call it a date, I’m begging you angel.” Oh. The endearment slipped from his mouth and Jake looked slightly mortified.
Well, it’s not like you weren’t an angel in his eyes anyways, he thought.
Ignoring the flush of heat rushing to your ears, you attempt to casually brush over what he said.
“How about. I lend you a hand, just this once.” Jake’s ear almost perks at your statement, instantly recovering from his slip up.
“I’ll set something up for you two down at the shop after I close up, all you have to do is show up.”
“Only question is, if you trust me enough with something like that.”
Of course I do, he thinks.
Jake wishes he could extract the part of your brain that made you doubt yourself so much. The blond couldn’t think of anything he wouldn't trust you with. And he’d seen you do it so often–second guess yourself, and he hated it. He hated how it made him feel–sick at the thought that you could possibly not believe in yourself.
“If I didn’t, would I be sitting here defenseless at your place?” He flashes his dimples at you in a reassuring smile.
Adoration fills you completely at the sight of him, his tousled morning hair and the creases set under his eyes, marked by his smile makes you glad you decided to take residency here. This feels right, Fightertown feels right. He feels right.
“You’re lucky my love language is acts of service, Jacob Seresin.”
“Mine is physical touch.”
“Gross.”
“Don’t believe me? Come here.” he raises his brows teasingly, getting up from his seat, making his way towards you.
“No. Stay back.” you panic, swatting away his already outstretched arms.
“So…what do we think?” you were basically jittering from where you stood, a poor attempt at holding back your overflowing excitement.
The two naval aviators stood side by side in front of you, almost mirroring each other perfectly. Expressions unreadable, hands on their hips, lips pursed and side eyeing each other—urging the other to speak first. Javy directs Jake to say something first by lifting his chin at him as Jake deadpans his best friend in response.
Between you and the pair of pilots sat a small table you manage to drag in the center of the cafe with a candle flickering in the center, surrounded by an array of chocolate croissants that you knew Jake had an insatiable craving for. The rest of the table was cramped with random assortments of new Valentines recipes you had been testing–and who better to try them than your reliable Jake and his new friend that you would assume to be in equal size as him.
And how could he possibly crush your excitement and tell you this looks absolutely terrifying, and that he would rather do 300 pushups under the unforgiving sun than sit at this romantic table and feast on your heart shaped cookies with the likes of Rooster.
“Well,” Coyote begins, not noticing the pointed glare Jake shoots at him.
Jake observes you begin to shrink in front of his eyes at Javy’s tone and immediately slaps his palm over his friend’s mouth, panicked at what he’ll start to say.
Javy stiffens, shocked that his germophobic friend had even put his hand on his face, recalling all the times Jake complained that Javy should start using cleanser for his “oily” skin. Jake even once swore he would rather eat dirt than touch Javy’s face after seeing sweat drip down his face after their first morning run together.
“It's perfect” he swallows back any sign of hesitancy under your careful gaze.
You know he’s lying for your sake. Although he sounds sure, you could see the prominent vein in his neck protrude, a tell tale sign that he’s feeling pressured.
“Jake..” the uncertainty in your voice makes him want to double over. Your shoulders have already slumped, his eyes frantically watching as your cardigan start to slip down your arms, exposing your bare shoulders.
Javy’s mouth parts as he watches Jake take a big step over to you, gently pulling the sleeves of your knit cardigan up to your shoulder blades again. His hands slowly moving down to your wrist, nervously playing with the cuffs of your sleeves.
Javy’s heart briefly swells at the sentiment, but he knows what he has to do. Jake would thank him for this later, he hopes.
Although Jake has to be the most horrifyingly fearless pilot Javy knows, when it boils down to situations like these–he knows his best friend needs a push in the right direction or else he’ll never take the leap of faith.
Javy pulls himself together.
“Admit that you hate it, Hangman” he speaks up, interrupting the moment.
Bewildered, Jake snaps his neck to face Javy from where he stood in front of you.
“I do not hate it.” his southern accent is now present from being provoked.
Javy feels glad for once that Jake is so stubborn.
“So you’ll happily sit here with Rooster?”
“Yes.” He answers almost immediately.
“Can we join you too?” Javy quickly shoots the question.
“Of course” he answers, right away.
Javy practically glows at the sight of Jake’s eyes shooting wide open, caught off guard by his own reply.
“Perfect. Rooster can hang with all of us.” Javy proudly grins.
Something unfamiliar swirls at the pit of his stomach. You, Javy, and him hanging out? Sure. That's fine, as long as he sits between you two. But You, Javy, him, and Rooster? It’s unpredictable.
When a bird flies straight into his jet unexpectedly, he can handle that–he can predict the outcome. When his jet is jeering towards a canyon and his eject button doesn't work, that’s fine he can predict his next move to get out safely. But the idea of you and Rooster in the same room makes his head spin out of control. Jake feels like his soul shifts out of his body for a moment.
“That’s a great idea Javy! Maybe we can sit in on this hangout so Jake is less nervous too.” you chime in, grabbing Jake’s hands sweetly, swinging them side to side to soothe his nerves.
His head lowers to watch the way your small hands grip at his own calloused ones–playfully swinging your arms left to right in unison in the small space between the two of you. His eyes soften at the sight.
“I want to hear what you guys think of my new recipes too..” you add on, shyly smiling up at Jake–silently asking if that was okay with him.
It's a done deal. He can’t take back what he says. Not when you're staring up at him like this, looking so tooth achingly sweet in his favorite white dress that you own.
“Yeah let’s do it..” he gulps.
thank you for reading, and as always-reblogs are greatly appreciated!
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