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intoanotherworld23 · 10 months

Text

Feel The Vibrations

Pairing: Reader x Bradley Bradshaw

Warnings: MATURE CONTENT AHEAD NSFW 18+ ONLY, there is smut and sex in this, consensual sex, use of sex toy, use of vibrator, mild choking, smidge of fingering, swear words

Summary: Bradley always has a way of surprising you with new things in the bedroom

Ignore the woman in the GIF, and imagine it’s you instead cause that’s exactly what I did! Enjoy my loves! XOXO

Check out my other works on my Hall Of Hunks

Laying on your side with Bradley behind you as he was holding your leg in the air. Your arm gripping his thigh hard as you felt him going in and out of you. His arm underneath your head giving it something to rest on.

“That’s my good girl.”

Feeling every thrust pushing in and pulling up driving up a rhythmic beat. Loving the thickness of his cock stretching out your inner walls. He was guiding you to the edge of pleasure. Feeling him pulsing inside of you both of you pushing each other into a frenzy.

"Oh fuck." You cried out as he slid his cock easily in and out of you.

"You are absolutely soaked." The sounds of your wetness echoing around the room.

He was breathing heavily into your neck as he continued to pump his cock inside of you. You felt so incredibly full, and you didn't know how you were going to take anymore.

"That feel good baby?"

"Mhm." Nodding your head unable to find the words to speak.

"Aw did you forget how to speak?" His tone condescending.

The scruff of his mustache was scratching against your neck, and he whispered dirty things in your ear. Your head thrown back so he had easy access to your neck, leaving sloppy kisses along the skin. Your eyes closed in pure ecstasy you didn't want this feeling to end.

You could feel the juices from your pussy slopping against your thighs every time he drilled into you. Your ass cheeks slapping against his pelvis with each movement he made. Your pussy making a squishing sound that made you feel flustered.

"Hold on."

He mumbled against your ear as he stopped thrusting inside of you to reach into his drawer digging something out. Trying to look over to see what he was exactly up to.

“Bradley what are you doing get back over here and fuck me.”

“Patience baby I got something for you.”

You cried out at him to continue having been close to your orgasm you didn't want to lose it. Whining when he was taking a little longer than you would have liked.

Looking over quickly to see what he was doing then leaning your head back down. Feeling a cold object touch your wet folds, and then a high vibration buzzing against your clit making you squeal.

"Shit just like that Bradley." You moaned out your pussy clenching around his cock.

Bradley has always talked about using a toy on your during sex. He just never expressed when he wanted to do that. Now here he was deep inside of you while rubbing a vibrator against you.

"I can feel you squeezing my cock baby."

Lifting his leg up even higher so he could get in a deeper angle. His cock slamming into your sweet spot making you see stars. Sweat was forming around your back and forehead. The sounds of his skin slapping against yours making your cheeks heat up.

Both your bodies rocking back and forth clashing into each other. The bed was shaking underneath you hearing then creak from the bed springs. If he kept going like this you were worried he was going to break the bed.

"God you drive me so fucking crazy." Growling in your ear as he nipped at it.

He moved the toy around your clit harder and harder. That fire was forming in the pit of your stomach and you knew you weren't going to last much longer. Your legs were shaking feeling yourself getting closer to release.

"Stretching this tight cunt out."

"Bradley." Whining pathetically with your mouth wide open.

"I know baby I know I'm gonna get you there."

Not even knowing what to do with your hands either having them on his body, or in your hair. At one point while his one hand was moving the toy against you, his arm that was underneath you moved slightly. His hand reaching up to grab you around your neck lightly choking you.

A smile appearing on your face making him rut into you even harder. He loved seeing you like this and what a desperate wild animal you were becoming. He's never wrapped a hand around your throat, but he was just living in the moment.

Applying just the tiniest bit of pressure to your throat so you could still breathe. It was overstimulating but absolute fucking bliss. Bradley could see it written across your face, and he wanted to keep that image in his head.

"Fuck you look so good like this sweetheart."

Both your bodies were rocking back and forth together in unison. The smell of sex and sweat was filling your nostrils. Moans and groans echoing across the room. Bradley was straining himself waiting for you to reach that sweet release.

"Oh god I'm gonna cum Roos." You whined pushing your head back Bradley growling at the use of his call sign.

“Call me that again.”

“Rooster.” Drawing out the name.

Bradley was a complete sucker for use of his call sign or rank being cried out in ecstasy. Driving him wild with lust whenever you did it. Whether it was by his command or not. It made him weak in the knees.

"Such a good girl for me."

Bradley groaning as he felt your pussy squeezing his cock. Your hips began to move in the rhythm of his cock. Still continuing to use the toy against you egging you on. Stopping for a quick minute, before his wrists would start snapping the toy against your clit and folds.

Your breathing was becoming heavier by the minute. His hand using the toy kept the tip of it against your clit pressing down harder so your back was arching against Bradley. He was always one to tease you, and bring you to tears when it came to sex.

"Cum all over my cock baby."

That was all it took before you felt your toes curling in the air, and you pussy squeezing him so tightly as you came around him. The pit of your stomach coiling as a wave of warmth rushed over your body.

"Oh fuck I'm there sweetheart." He warned you through his teeth.

Your body slumped against him as he pumped into you a couple more times. Groaning loudly as his cock twitched inside of you before squirting his warm load into you. The both of you out of breath after your kinky lovemaking.

Leaning his head forward so his forehead was pressed up against your shoulder. Giving you little tender kisses his hand running circles on your thighs in a soothing way. Feeling your eyes becoming heavier as you strained to keep them open.

There was no way your body was going to be able to move. Your legs felt like cooked noodles, and your hands were lightly trembling. It was an intense feeling almost like a rush of excitement or adrenaline.

"I hope I wasn’t too rough with you." His soft hands touching your neck.

Bradley turning into a soft lush when everything was over. You were a priority to him, and he always wanted to make sure he didn’t hurt you, or push you past your limit.

"No it actually felt really good." Confessing as you looked away feeling slightly embarrassed for liking it so much.

"Good cause we are definitely doing that again."

His hand reaching down between your legs to your raw cunt. Gasping as he gently pushed a thick finger inside of you. Your inner walls spreading open around it as you selfishly lifted your hips it. Feeling like you didn't know if you'd be able to handle anymore, but Bradley knew you could.

Bradley grinning as he watched the expression on your face. Knowing that he had you exactly where he wanted you. He wasn't exactly done with you yet, and had more in store for you.

"Get ready for a long night sweetheart."

#miles teller #miles teller smut #miles teller x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw smut #miles teller fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw imagines #miles Teller imagines #miles Teller fic #Bradley bradshaw fic

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vintagemulti · 2 years

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rainfall

pairings: bradley “rooster” bradshaw x pilot!reader

desc: you’ve always had a thing for your best friend. this mission didn’t help.

warnings: this is quite long😵‍💫, swearing, sex references and innuendos, alcohol and drunkness, death and family member loss, dissociation mentions, i know NOTHING about pilots/flying sorry, this WILL be a series !!!

a/n: someone tell me to stop making series. i beg. this is my little writer brain not being able to watch anything without making a character WHOOPS. anyways, i’ve not seen the first top gun. so. cannon? who? we don’t know her. also i hate called bradley rooster i can’t work out why but i’ll only refer to him as it when flying. soz.

series masterlist

masterlist

you had been in bali when you got the call. you and bradley, in bali, relaxing. but who ever said naval pilots get to relax?

it was something you had gotten far too used to, having to pack up your things and get the first flight back to the states. sure, you had been the one to chose this career and the disruptions you faced were consequences of your own actions, but you had really - really, really - hoped that you didn’t get called up when you did.

two weeks in bali with bradley bradshaw, the highlight of your year. it had been planned for almost a year, which was saying something. normally you and bradley would say you’d do something, and it would never actually end up happening. but no - this vacation had went ahead, and you’d had six days of utter bliss before the dreaded number showed up on your phone.

bradley had been phoned right after you, his reaction being about the same. annoyed, upset but somewhat excited. what the fuck was all this about? both you and him being on the same mission?

and so you had packed all your stuff and made your way back to california, dropped your bags off at your separate apartments and rushed to put together an emergency bag, with your uniforms and workout clothes inside.

that took you up to now, sat in the passenger side of bradley’s new range rover, forty minutes into the drive back to the naval base on lake tahoe. it wasn’t far away now - only ten or so minutes, but the sun was beginning to slowly dip it’s head, ever so slightly.

you were still dressed in your summer clothes, a tight, black dress with white lining and held up by a strap around your neck. it was low cut, a little lower than you’d like for the first time meeting your other teammates, but there wasn’t any time to get changed.

bradley was dressed in the same way, tight white tank top covered in a hawaiian shirt, nude-coloured cargos covering his thighs. and, of course, his aviator glasses. was it really bradley without them?

he turned into one of the roads leading to the hard deck - a bar frequented by everyone within a mile vicinity - and you turned to look at him, right as the sunlight hit him. golden rays washed over his skin, his collarbones shining and under his sunglasses you could see his brown eyes - turned like honey in the light.

you thought he looked beautiful, but you’d never tell him.

“this better be good,” he spoke, breaking the moment of silence. “that hotel cost a fuckin’ fortune.”

rolling your eyes, you nodded. “you’re lucky i remembered we get travel insurance. who was it that was determined we didn’t, again?”

“oh, shut up,” bradley said, but you could see the outline of a smirk on his mouth. “no one ever told me we get that.”

“lies!” you laughed. “they put it in the ads, that if you get called up while away, they pay you back whatever you lost.”

it was bradley’s turn to roll his eyes. “alright, miss ‘i always read the fine print’.”

“at least i can read,” you joked back.

electing to ignore the snide comment he made back, you reached into the passenger side compartment, searching for your own sunglasses - feeling nothing. you looked around the car, sighing in defeat as you realised you must have left your pair at home.

spotting another pair of aviators on the dashboard, you picked them up. “can i borrow these?”

bradley looked at what you were referring to, almost laughing when he saw his spare glasses in your hand.

“go ahead, sugar, i won’t need ‘em.”

putting the sunglasses on, you pushed down the butterflies in your stomach that flew around with the pet name.

the hard deck came into view, looking busy already. it was so loud - you could practically hear the music playing from the jukebox all the way out here.

“takes you back, huh?” you asked.

“that it does,” bradley pulled into a parking spot. “feels like yesterday we were here last.”

“wrong,” you undid your seatbelt. “yesterday we were in a five star villa in bali.”

opening the car door, you stepped onto the concrete, your heels clicking against the ground. why did you wear these again? good god, it would be a long night. bradley joined you, walking towards the front door of the bar. it was so loud now - it was like you were already inside.

he pulled the door open, letting you in first. fireworks exploded all over your body as his hand moved around your waist, letting him manoeuvre himself to be standing next to you. you let him take the lead to where the rest of your team appeared to be, and you watched him walk - his swagger that was just so fucking hot almost making you forget you were stood completely still.

most of the faces you recognised - actually, you recognised all of them. pheonix, hangman, fanboy and payback we’re speaking to bradley, and someone you had recently been introduced to was the first person to notice you.

“rainfall! hey, how’s it going?” bob smiled at you, the other people snapping their heads to look at you as well.

“yeah, alright, how’re you?” you answered, him nodding a reply.

“wow,” hangman spoke first. “both rooster and rainfall arrive late, not in uniform? been busy, you two?”

“about as busy as your mum, hangman.” you retorted, those around you letting out a surprised laugh.

“that’s not the most important question,” pheonix tilted her head. “what the hell is this? what can they possibly be trying do here?”

you furrowed your eyebrows, prompting her to go on; “well, we’re the best there is. who the hell can teach us?”

the question took you by surprise - but it wasn’t irrelevant. the only briefing you had was this was a training program for an intense mission, and only those who had came top of the top gun class would be accepted, so, pheonix was thinking right. who could possible teach the best pilots out there?

a bell rang throughout the bar, interrupting your thoughts. everyone cheered, knowing exactly what the bell meant.

“poor guy,” rooster mumbled. “i’m going to the restroom, get me a drink?”

you nodded, walking over to the bar.

he wasn’t recognisable at first - he looked so different. but it was the eyes that gave it away, he was still young behind the eyes.

“it’s you, then.” you mumbled, taking the empty spot next to him at the bar.

maverick looked at you, realisation hitting when he clocked who you were. “nice to meet you, rainfall. i’ve heard lost about you.”

“so have i.” looking at him, he wasn’t the man you had built up in your head. he looked nicer.

sighing, maverick nodded slowly. “i thought that’s who you came in with.”

“he won’t want you to teach him, you know that, right? you… you ruined his life, maverick. his mum’s, too.” you said, although you knew it wasn’t anything he hadn’t heard a million times already.

“yep,” maverick clicked his tongue. “i thought that would be an issue.”

“he hates you.”

“i know.”

bradley might have hated maverick, but you didn’t. sure, he was an arrogant ass from what you had heard and he destroyed your best friends family, but you personally had nothing against him.

penny walked over to you, interrupting your conversation with her greetings.

“wow, y/n, you’re here too? damn, what a mission.”

“hey, pen,” you smiled. “i know, i know.”

she raised her eyebrows. “must be serious, huh?”

you raised your hands in defence. “i have absolutely no idea what this mission’s about, swear.”

humming in response, she changed the subject; “what’re you for?”

“uhh, a blue WKD for me and the house beer for brad.”

she nodded, looking at the man next to you. “he’s paying, by the way.”

you almost laughed, turning to maverick. “unlucky son of a bitch. you better take a loan out, maverick.”

“how was i meant to know the rules, huh? i’ve not been here in god knows how long.” he grumbled.

both you and penny chuckled as she served your drinks, taking one in each hand and moving away from the bar, you turned to look at maverick again.

“mav,” you called, and he looked around. “good luck.”

he smiled, nodding. you would admit it would be hard work for him, and it must be difficult to teach the boy who’s father you watched die. but then again, he could have declined the job.

spotting bradley, you walked over to him and handed him the glass of beer. he thanked you, face contorting in disgust as you noticed what you were drinking.

“i don’t know how you stomach that stuff, sugar, it’s all sweetener.”

“says the man who threw up after three of them. they’re only like, three percent as well.”

bradley narrowed his eyes. “all sweetener.”

laughing, you walked with him to join the rest of the group. your feet already began to ache with every step you took, straps digging into your ankle. god - it would be a long night.

if you were counting how many drinks deep you were, you’d have used up all your fingers. you’d been here for a few hours, at least, the sun was almost setting now.

you could see it from the small window in the bathroom, the blur effect on the window turning the sunset into just colour. you didn’t need to pee or anything, just a minute. it was a fair assumption to say you were an extrovert, and loved to be around people, but the noise of the crowd in the bar had become slightly too loud, especially as maverick had just been thrown overboard.

the sound of a piano playing came muffled through the door, followed by a familiar singing voice. it made you smile; hearing bradley drunkenly scream out ‘great balls of fire’.

washing your hands and quickly drying them, you walked back out of the bathroom and into the crowd, thanking the girl who had been holding your drink for you. you walked towards the piano, seeing bradley completely in his element.

“kiss me baby, ooh! that feels good, good!” he sang, everyone joining in.

leaning against the piano, you joined in, the lyrics coming as a second language, this song was practically indented into your brain.

as you sang, you watched bradley’s hands hit every note perfectly, his fingers tracing the keys with a gentle-harshness, something that just about set you off. a man who was good with his fingers? lord have mercy.

he looked at you, as if on cue, smiling as you sang out the words. bradley took a spilt second to remove his hands from the keys, gesturing to his lap.

you tilted your head. he can’t be serious, can he?

“sit!” he called, hands going back to playing the instrumental section.

maybe it was the drinks you’d had, influencing your system. but it took you the whole of two seconds to decide to follow his order, slipping under his arm and placing yourself down on his lap. people around you whooped, especially the ones in your team. had this happened before? you couldn’t remember through the tipsy-horny-lovesick haze that had clouded your vision.

bradley’s leg bounced, making you laughing against his chest. when he started singing, you joined in with him, your voice coming out as more of a tuned shout compared to bradley’s angelic singing voice.

“kiss me baby,” you looked up at him. that second you made eye contact - that whole second - felt like an eternity. it felt like no one was watching, thay for once the love that remained behind your eyes finally appeared behind his, too.

or maybe that was the vodka shots talking.

“ooh! that feels good, good,” he sang.

you looked away, staring at his hands once again while you sang the words. if you had kept staring, you would have seen the way he looked at you while he sang; “i’ma tell the world that you’re mine, mine, mine, mine!”

if you had seen that, you probably would have melted on the spot.

the song came to an end, everyone cheering for bradley’s fantastic piano performance, yourself included. you fell against his chest, laughing like a schoolgirl. he laughed too, taking his hands off of the keys to embrace you.

was this normal for best friends, you wondered? did everyone do this when they were drunk? the answer: wait and find out.

“i’m gonna get a drink,” you smiled at him, finally standing up.

“alright, darlin’, get me a beer?”

“god,” you feigned annoyance. “one day you’ll pay for your own beers, bradley bradshaw.”

you walked away before you heard his mumbled comeback; “yeah, our wedding day.” but, even if you hadn’t walked away, what would you have done?

walking to the bar, you leaned against it, ordering with penny for the god-knows-how-many-th time that night.

“thanks,” you smiled.

“is that a tan line i see?” penny asked, pouring out a beer.

“yep,” you popped the ‘p’. “i was in bali with brad, was supposed to be there until next week.”

“oh,” she sat down one of the glasses. “but you got called up?”

nodded, you took a drink of bradley’s beer, instantly regretting it. “fuckin’ hate the navy sometimes.”

penny stopped in her tracks. “oh, y/n, did i just hear what i think i did?”

your eyes widened. “no, penny, please, i’m seriously broke right now, i’m begging-”

the bell ringing cut you off. hanging your head, you felt multiple people clap your back.

“oh, no, what do we have here?” bradley appeared at your side, laughing.

“this one,” penny giggled. “was insulting the navy.”

bradley exaggerated a gasp, putting his hands over his mouth. “no!”

“yep!”

“tut, tut, tut, lieutenant l/n!” he joked.

you raised your middle finger in response.

“honestly, rooster,” penny was half way away, walking to serve another customer. “get your girlfriend under control!”

the heat rose to your cheeks, head snapping up. luckily for you, you were ninety-nine percent sure that bradley didn’t hear her, but when you were sober, you’d have to tell her off about almost spilling your decade long secret.

“my god, brad,” you walked away from the bar. “i’m gonna be so broke tomorrow.”

he giggled, a sound your drunk mind would have registered as the trumpets of heaven, the best music in the world - every lovely sound put together. god, how in love were you?

“come on, rainfall,” bradley led you to the table the group were all sat at. “the night is young!”

there’s a saying, if you had a dollar for every time this happened, you’d be rich. well, if you had a dollar for every time you’d gotten blackout drunk the day before the first day of training and had to get up at the crack of dawn, you’d have slightly too many dollars. every time, every single time.

as you sat, shoulders straight and hair tied ever so slightly too tight, the commander speaking about something you weren’t properly listening to - the thought of about seventy aspirin was popping into your mind, almost soothing your headache with the sheer thought of it.

footsteps came from behind you, but you didn’t turn around. you knew who it was. instead, you looked at bradley, who was sat in the chair next to you.

as his eyes fell on maverick, you noticed the way his whole smug demeanour fell - for just a moment. you then noticed how he put those walls straight back up, clenching his jaw and shifting in his seat. he cleared his throat, making eye contact with you and raising his eyebrows.

looking away, maverick started speaking.

you must have been truly hungover, because from the second maverick opened his mouth to right now felt like it went by in a blink - you couldn’t tell if you had dissociated the entire time or if you weren’t interested enough to actually pay attention.

zipping up your flight suit, you smiled to yourself. this was your first training exercise for what seemed to be an impossible mission. getting in and out of a thin passage within a minute and a half seemed unrealistic, but compared with the insanely low hard deck and the pull up? you’d be lucky if you made it out alive.

a few planes were already in the air as you stepped onto the tarmac, helmet in hand. looking to your right, you saw two planes, to your left; pheonix and bob doing push-ups.

the exercise was simple; don’t get caught. if you do, you have to do two hundred press ups.

you had almost laughed when maverick set the exercise, how insanely easy it sounded. unfortunately for maverick, he had never flown with you before - he hadn’t quite learnt the meaning of your call sign.

radio chatter sounded from your headset as you climbed into your plane, spotting bradley on the tarmac as well. everyone had insisted you two went last - the top two of the class. even hangman bit back his ego for two seconds to admit that you had finished top of the class, so you should go last.

that’s right, you came top of your class. one of the best pilots of the last decade, apparently. it had earned you quite a reputation, pilots almost always recognising you wherever you went. you were some kind of a legend.

buckling yourself in and triple checking your belts were secure, you pulled your helmet over your head, and your ears were filled with radio chatter. bradley got into the plane next to you, doing the same thing.

“when are we ready to take off, mav?” you asked, closing the top of your plane.

“any time now, rainfall.” he replied.

it was a feeling you always craved, taking off. as a little girl, you used to love going on holiday, just because when the plane would take off and your stomach would turn, it made you smile. from that moment, and from the moment you saw the pilots in all the different documentaries, you knew you wanted to fly planes.

just in a little more extreme way. a way, way more extreme way.

gaining speed, you clicked the needed buttons and flipped the right switches in order to take off, and the tarmac got smaller and smaller as you flew higher into the sky. hearing bradley take off a few moments later, you knew the game was about to begin.

you knew this would be personal for bradley - getting beaten by maverick. anything maverick did to him, it would be personal. you prayed he would be able to separate the pilot from the person, just for a minute.

“good morning aviators,” maverick spoke. “ready to play?”

“oh you are on,” you smiled, still gaining height. “old man.”

bradley laughed over the radio, making you smile even wider.

“for everyone listening over the radio,” you spoke. “get ready to listen to the best flight of your life.”

down on the ground, the rest of the team laughed.

“ready?” maverick asked. “three, two, one… the game has begun.”

you understood the purpose of this exercise - dogfighting. to watch out for yourself while attacking at the same time. playing both offence and defence.

seeing bradley slip into your peripheral, you looked around for the other plane. still gaining height, you hoped to god that your technique would stay reliable.

everything felt like a blur - you were flying so fast, so high, nothing felt real. keeping your eye out for maverick, you swerved through the clouds.

“all alright, rooster?” you hated calling him by his call sign. if felt so… impersonal, weird.

“all good here, rainfall. you?”

you nodded, even though he wouldn’t see it. “no sign of him.”

looking down, you could see bradley underneath you and to the right. he wouldn’t even notice you, if he hadn’t learnt to always look up.

“oh hello, you,” he said, the smugness seeping through the radio.

“hello, rooster.” you smiled.

as you stared down at him, a second plane came into view, far enough away that bradley wouldn’t notice him.

“rooster, on your left!” you called, swerving away as soon as you said it.

“shit,” he mumbled, and you could see him fly away.

“language, folks, come on.” maverick laughed.

“alright grandpa.” you joked back.

looking below you, you could barely see the two planes dogfighting, but from the small glimpse you got, it wasn’t looking great for bradley. maverick was too fast.

“hurry up, rooster,” you spoke your mind. “he’s faster than you.”

“yeah, thanks for that observation.” he grumbled back.

“cheeky.”

from your point of view, the dogfighting was getting even more intense, bradley constantly being tailed by maverick. you hoped once again, that bradley didn’t take this too seriously.

a dial tone broke your thought.

“and rooster, you are out.” maverick spoke over the radio, making you sigh.

“fuck you.”

and there it was; all of your proof that bradley had taken it personally. fuck, this would be a hard one to calm him down from.

“ready to fight, rainfall?” maverick said, and you could almost see his smirk.

pushing everything else in your mind to the side, you let the calm, slightly arrogant side of you take control.

“do you know why my call sign is rainfall?” you asked, already spotting maverick below you.

“i suppose you’re going to enlighten me?”

you let a beat of silence pass, making sure you were in the right position. it was obvious maverick was looking for you, but you were at least fifty feet above him, slightly in front of him. why did no one ever look up?

“or not?” maverick added.

“because,” you paused, gripping your gearstick a little tighter. “rain always comes from above, and you don’t see it until it’s on you.”

with those words, you descended with absolutely no warning. as you came closer to maverick, he seemed obviously surprised, fumbling for a moment to move out of the way so you didn’t fall straight into him.

“jesus, kid,” he mumbled.

“did you know that i came top of my class?” you pulled back up without hesitation, g-force pushing you back ever so slightly.

“yeah, i read it somewhere,” maverick was flying parallel to you. “i wasn’t too of my class.”

“oh, i know,” you somehow managed to keep your tone casual. “iceman, right?”

maverick hummed over the radio, obviously too focused on getting you out.

but your technique was working perfectly. descend on them, climb up, and when the least expect it….

pulling away, you circled around maverick, seeing the outline of a target appear in your helmet. he hadn’t even realised what you had done.

a dial tone sounded through the radio silence, everyone on land holding their breath - even bradley.

“you,” a voice cut through the radio. “are out. good game, maverick.”

the people on ground cheered almost loud enough for you to hear all the way up in the air.

“what the hell?” maverick was in disbelief. “what?”

“i’ll see you on ground, mav.”

the sun was already setting by the time maverick had finished his press ups. he must not have taken in personally, offering to buy you a drink for how well you had flown.

but you didn’t want a drink, you were too concerned with other things. it had been hours since the training had ended, and bradley was still outside, doing press ups.

you walked onto the tarmac, out of your flight suit and in casual clothes, the figure of bradley noticeable - everything still apart from him.

he was shaking, sweating, almost sunburnt. the most noticeable thing was his red eyes, they were so red you thought he must have burst a blood vessel.

“bradley?” you called, getting closer to him. he didn’t answer.

walking right next to where he was, you sat down. sat, right on the hot tarmac - it heated up your legs. “bradley, please,” you called again.

this wasn’t new - for him to do exercise until he just about burst. some people punch walls, some people drink - bradley worked out. maybe it was just as unhealthy as every other coping mechanism.

his arms were so shaky, he almost couldn’t even keep himself up right. you wanted right then and there to take him into your arms, let him cry his heart out and tell him that one day - one day in the future - it will get easier.

as if he could hear your thoughts, he stopped. collapsed onto the ground, arms finally giving in. you could hear him, choking out sobs between breaths - it just about broke your heart.

“come here,” your fingers brushed his arm, and it was like he just needed the instruction to do so, because he moved into your arms and clung onto your shirt, just like a baby.

you didn’t care where you were. no one was looking, anyway. everyone went home or went elsewhere hours ago, you and bradley were most likely the only two people left there.

“what is it?” you cooed, gently running a hand through his hair.

“he- my dad, he- maverick-” and that was all he had to stutter out for you to understand.

“i know, i know,” you bent over him, almost encasing him in your body. kissing his head, you repeated the phrase over and over again.

it was in that moment that for the second time in twenty four hours you thought to yourself - is this normal for best friends to do? it is, right? like, you would do it for any of your other friends?or maybe that’s what you liked to tell yoursef to deny the simple fact;

you were in love with bradley bradshaw, your best friend.

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dameronscopilot · 1 year

Note

hi, my sunshine person

I am coming into your inbox to ask you for your absolute most depraved thoughts about a Bradshaw. either of them will do. just one of them.

fair is fair.

you always know exactly how to make my brain short circuit 🧡

so here's the thing. when it comes to my beloved, goofy daddy Nick Bradshaw, it's all soft, tender, silly thoughts. but Rooster?

-> 18+

Content: NSFW, smut, unprotected p in v, switch!Bradley, creampies, oral sex, spit kink

Bradley loves to see you splayed out beneath him, mouth hanging open, back arching upwards, and fingers digging into the mattress as he fucks you until you can’t think straight. He loves when you gasp for him to fill you up, when you’re so goddamn needy for it, you’re crawling back into his lap and stroking his softening cock for more while his cum is still dripping out of your cunt. He knows he could fuck you past the brink of overstimulation, and you’d still be begging for it.

But some nights, he wants something else.

Those nights find him at your mercy, his hard shaft straining against the thin fabric of his boxers as you ride his face. He can’t even be bothered to dig the heel of his palm into his throbbing, leaking cock, because he’s too pussy drunk on your breathy, unabashed moans each time he laps another firm, broad stroke through your soaked folds.

When you eventually settle down into his lap, engulfing his length in the wet, sticky warmth of your cunt, Bradley could easily grasp your hips, fucking up into you until you’re writhing in his arms, coming for him once more. But instead, he’ll gaze up at you patiently as you use him as you please, easing up and down on his shaft, relishing each push and drag that stretches open your tight, soaked channel until you reach your climax.

And it’s then, when his thigh muscles have begun to burn from restraint, when his cock is fucking aching with the pressure of his impending release, that he lets his head fall back against the wall—only for you to firmly pull on his hair, his pupils blown wide with lust as his lips fall open of their own accord. Because when you lean down and spit in his mouth, that’s what finally sends him hurtling over the edge, fingers roughly digging into your sides as he chokes out a moan and comes so hard the edges of his vision go white.

#answers from the cockpit #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw #rooster x reader #top gun: maverick fanfiction #top gun: maverick #miles teller fanfiction #bradley bradshaw smut #copilot sleepover

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tongue-like-a-razor · 2 years

Text

Altitude - Chapter 1

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female!OC

Pete "Maverick" Mitchell x Female!OC

Summary: Sydney is not a pilot. But she knows all their tricks. That's why, when she meets the smooth-talking Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, she's not falling for any of them. She's not falling for him, either.

CW: Excessive drinking. Love triangle, angst, angst, angst (in later chapters). What else? More angst.

Sydney feels the music in her bones. She’s barely watching the light show; her eyes are mostly closed. She’s not listening to her friends screaming giddily behind her, their squeals drifting farther and farther away. Her head is heavy on her shoulders, but she feels like she’s floating, nonetheless. After the copious amounts of alcohol she’s consumed, the club is a vision, blurring around her as she glides through it, her arms outstretched as though she’s trying to stay afloat. Swaying as she travels through the wave of bodies.

To her left, she notices a man glancing at her from time to time, and she smiles. He’s wearing a Hawaiian shirt, which she finds hilarious. He’s dancing too, and he moves like a dream. He grins back, nodding in her direction.

She laughs, shaking her head. She’s not here for the boys; she’s here for the dancing. She’s already turned away several guys trying to gain her attention.

That’s when somebody comes up behind her. An arm wraps around her stomach, nearly knocking her off her feet. She tries to push him away but he’s persistently holding onto her.

In her trancelike daze, she barely registers what is happening. But it only takes a moment for the man in the Hawaiian shirt to spring forward and intervene. He grips the assailant by the collar and shoves him back. The latter stumbles, but Hawaiian shirt is already in his face again, yelling something indiscernible at him over the blaring music in the nightclub.

Hawaiian shirt turns to Sydney. “Do you know him?” he yells.

She shakes her head.

His jaw shifts angrily and he turns back to the man who’d grabbed her, towering over him with clenched fists and a threatening expression on his face.

Sydney gravitates toward him, taking him by the arm to pull him back. She doesn’t want him getting kicked out of the club on her account.

“It’s fine!” she shouts casually over the music. “I’m fine!”

Hawaiian shirt looks down at her fingers clasped around his bicep and then glances up at her face. “Say that again!” he yells. The arm that she’s holding flexes as he lifts his hand to take her elbow and pull her closer. He lowers his head so that he can hear her.

She blinks at him and, for a moment, she’s lost in the rhythm of tiny, dancing lights reflecting in his eyes. “I said,” she replies, trying to tear her gaze away from his face. “I said, thank you, but he’s not worth it. And I’m fine.”

“You’re okay?” he yells back.

She nods.

He lets out a steady sigh, clenching his jaw and straightening his back. She leads him away from the goon who’s already gathered his friends around in preparation for a fight.

Once they are out of sight, consumed by the mass of bodies on the dance floor, she turns to look at him uneasily. He stands perfectly still amidst the swinging arms and twisting silhouettes of the crowd, watching her carefully. And something about his eyes draws her in despite her reservations.

She considers thanking him but, instead, she says, “Nice shirt.”

He chuckles. “It was my dad’s,” he replies.

She laughs. “He’s got a great sense of style.”

His smile falters slightly. “He did,” he responds.

Sydney realizes suddenly that she’s still gripping his arm and she lets go awkwardly. After all, she’s not here for the boys.

But Hawaiian shirt holds out his hand. “Would you care for a dance?” he asks, a crooked grin materializing on his face.

And before she could remind herself that she most certainly would not care for a dance, she places her hand in his.

He pulls her hand into his chest, taking her by the waist once she’s closer, and starts swaying with her to the beat. The sudden proximity makes Sydney slightly dizzy, although she decides to attribute the sensation to the flashing lights and the stale smell of spilt beer on the sticky floor. Still, she can’t deny that his hand holding hers right over his heart while he gazes into her eyes makes her somewhat lightheaded.

“You can dance,” he shouts over the music. “I saw you – earlier.”

Sydney smiles slightly. “You’re not so bad, yourself.”

He grins, his eyes sweeping over her face as though he were committing her features to memory. “I think that, if I stare at you long enough, I might forget how to walk, let alone dance,” he says.

Sydney laughs, shaking her head. “What a line,” she replies.

“I’ve got a few more if you’re interested.”

She chuckles. “I’ll get back to you.”

He draws in his cheeks to keep his smile from spreading, but the amusement behind his eyes gives him away. He lowers his face and she could feel his mouth move against her temple when he says, “Can I buy you a drink?”

His voice is smooth now that he’s not yelling and it shoots a ripple of delight through her body. He doesn’t move away, keeping his face against hers. She takes a shallow breath, moving her head back to glance up at him. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she says. When she sees his expression fall, she adds, “I already drank way too much.”

He chuckles, biting his lip. “So, what’s another one?”

She shakes her head, stepping away from him, before he can find a way to make her change her mind. Something tells her that he could be exceptionally persuasive. She knows his type. “Thanks for the dance,” she says loudly, still competing with the volume of the music.

She pulls away but he’s still holding onto her hand, his arm outstretched as she retreats. “Don’t tell me you’re leaving,” he calls.

She laughs. “For now,” she replies. “Perhaps I’ll see you before the night is through.”

He’s grinning as she turns away. “Now you’re just getting my hopes up,” he shouts over the pulse vibrating the walls of the club. “You didn’t tell me your name!” She glances over her shoulder at him with a playful smile. Then, she disappears into the crowd.

Read Chapter 2

A/N: Welcome to Book Two of the "Freefall" Series!

No worries if you haven't read Book One (Tailspin), because each book stands on its own.

Tailspin is set in the original Top Gun era, and follows the reader (Fem OC) and Maverick.

This fic is set during Top Gun: Maverick and will follow Sydney (Female OC), Rooster, Maverick, Amelia (Female OC), and others! No Charlie or Penny in this story!

Tag List:

The rest of the tag list is in the comments. Some of you are tagged because you're on my general Rooster tag list. If you prefer not to be tagged in this particular story, please let me know and I'll take you off the list!

@atarmychick007

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@matya4

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@simp-for-fictional-people

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ash5monster01 · 10 months

Note

Ashley my love. I recently reread your masterlist, YOU ARE FANTASTIC. Just needed to shout that out =) I've got an idea for a story. Don't know if you like it but I give it a try, especially after discovering that Miles Teller is on your character List????? Omg yeah. Here it comes:

Miles and reader are best friends since for ever and always more than happy to film together. Her excitement is marred by a new regisseur who gives her instantly a bad feeling (guy is flirting with her, gives her creepy looks and stares whenever he gets the chance). The whole situation is getting worse when gets touchy and handsy and when he corners her when she's alone. The creep harasses her and even threatenes her that when she's not dating him or be more friendly to him he will end her career. Miles notices that there's a change in the behavior of his normally bubbly sunshine best friend. Got more details in my mind, but that doesn't mean that you have to use them in any way!!!!!! I imagine that Miles and her always sharing an apartment when they're together, so he notices her sleeping not well, hearing her having nightmares. But she always brushes him off. One day he finds her having a panic attack behind her trailer (the creep just touched her rough and claim her dating him)....yeah well I need some good angst, drama, some hurt and an protective Miles, a fluffy end mayhabs?!

Love ya girl, it would ne fantastic if you let me know if you like my idea

Not Yourself

Pairing: Miles Teller x FemReader

Warnings: 18+ due to heavier themes, mentions of SA, abuse, depression, language, control issues, gaslighting, fluff

Summary: Being best friends for a long time can be like wearing rose colored glasses, ignoring the fact that feelings can change, touches can become more, and love can evolve into an entirely different thing. Some people ignore these signs for their entire lives but when Miles notices you’re not the same bubbly girl anymore he discovers a sad truth and in the midst of it all he can’t deny how he feels about you any longer.

a/n: I've had this request for ages and I am so sorry, I am busy literally all of the time and try to keep up with my own series and requests all the time. plz enjoy now that it is finally here xx

word count: 3,038

Masterlist

It’s been three weeks. Three weeks since you stopped smiling as much, since you stopped looking him in the eye, since you stopped laughing at his jokes, since you stopped spending time with him, since you had a full night of sleep. He had heard you, crying, having nightmares, your sobs barely muffled by the door. He wished he could figure out when it all changed. Everything was fine. You both landed another project together, found a perfect apartment to use while filming, you had been so happy. It was the two of you against the world like always. Yet now it’s as if the sun didn’t shine and because of your broken smile the world couldn’t really thrive.

Being an actor in this industry was hard, you had heard the horror stories, yet you still took it on knowing you had your bestfriend by your side. From highschool plays until now you were continuing to face the craziness of this job head on. Luckily enough with him by your side, landing new projects together left and right. You figure you had gotten too comfortable, too blind with happiness to see the warning signs, too scared to say no when one of the producers had asked you on a date. You figured one date couldn't hurt, that you could just go and keep your job, make up an excuse to get out of a second date, but it was too late. You had let him in and now he held the power. He held more weight in the bustling world of show business and now his threats of debunking your career were enough to scare you silly.

It was supposed to be the fun part of the date, the walking you to the doorstep, pink cheeks hidden by the dark of the night and revealed in the glow of street lamps, a shy kiss shared under the porchlight. Instead it was a tight grip around your wrist, back pressed into the hard brick of the home, wide eyes, as he threatens to end your career if you don't date him. Then you finally realize all that flirting and staring he had done on set was more creepy and forceful than anything. Blood pulsing through your veins you agreed, a harsh and unwanted kiss forced upon your lips. You waited till he got in his car and left before breaking down in tears on the front steps. You had promised yourself you wouldn't be one of those Hollywood horror stories and yet here you were, blindsided, and completely alone. You couldn’t even tell Miles, the keeper to every secret and embarassing story in your life. Once you realized this you waited until the living room lights turned off before entering the home and hiding in your room so he couldn't see the heartbroken look on your face.

Now it had been three weeks of this torture. Unwarranted touching and kissing all over set and it was as if nobody noticed or they ignored it for their own benefit. That broke you more than anything. The only person to inquire about your change in demeanor your best friend Miles, but you denied him every time. Assuring him everything was okay even though it definitely wasn't. Your only safe place was your room at night, but the abuse had followed you into your dreams, nightmares startling you awake until you were too scared to fall sleep, tears taking place of sleep. So you learned to live with the pain, but the thing about holding everything in means it dulls the parts of you that shine brighter. It’s harder to smile when something so heavy sits on the weight of your shoulders. You just prayed nobody would really notice.

Opening your trailer door you were prepared to make it to set, thankful you were a good enough actor that your emotions hadn't tainted your performance. Least expected as always, the strong grip curled around your wrist, and practically tugged you off the trailer steps before pulling you around and out of sight of anyone passing by. Your heart instantly quickened and suddenly you were slammed against the cool metal of the trailer before his large hand wrapped around your ass. You let out a shaky breath due to the close proximity and he snarled in your face. Barring his teeth like a wild animal and you were instantly fear stricken, frozen in place, and prepared for more trauma to add to your plate. Another nightmare brewing just at the edge of your fingertips, not even your work place safe from the abuse.

"You look good today, just for me?" his hand squeezed tighter, heavy breaths landed on your face. Your stomach churned with disgust over his weird attraction towards you. "Bet you sat in that makeup chair, begging them to make you look good so I could have something to see"

His other hand finally let go of your wrist, wrapping around your neck, the coolness of his rings practically stinging you by the touch. You shuddered as his face closed in, warm mouth landing on your neck as he left wet kisses, devouring you like a meal in the worst way. You prayed it would be enough, that he would leave, but then his hand was gripping your chin, mouth landing againt your own, and tongue shoving inside your mouth despite how hard you tried to keep your lips closed. Tears burned at the back of your eyes but you knew not to let them fall, to not give him the satisfaction. After what felt like hours he finally let go, backing off with a sly smile on his face. Hiding your shuddering body he pointed in your direction.

"Keep that pretty little mouth shut" he sneered and then he was gone, leaving you behind the trailer in a broken heap, heart racing, and life ruined. Once you could no longer hear his footsteps you were on your knees, tears free falling as sobs raked your body. You couldn’t control it as the panic rushed through, anxiety closing your airways, as you tried to wrap your mind around what had just happened. Unexpected and harmful all the same. You were late for your scene, but as the panic attack set in you had no part of you that could care.

As for Miles he knew you'd never be late to a scene, you didn't want to be one of those dramatic Hollywood stars that let the fame get to your head. So when it had been ten minutes and you still weren't there the panic set in. He told the director he was off to find you and before he could protest Miles was out the door and running to your trailer. Without knocking he forced himself inside but you were not there, sighing he walked back out and that’s when he heard a cry. Just not any cry though, the same ones he had heard from your bedroom every night. Bending down he looked under the trailer to see you were behind it, a heap in the gravel as you cried your eyes out.

"Y/N!" he was around the trailer in a flash, dropping beside you as he cradled you in his arms. You cried against him, barely aware he was even there. He found tears seeping out of his own eyes as he tried to determine what was wrong with his best friend, his oldest friend, the girl he loved more than anything in the world.

"Miles" you finally cried, gripping onto him like he could disappear any second, and he found himself lifting his head, trying to calm his heart and he let it settle in that something was really really wrong.

"Y/N I want to help you but I need you to tell me what’s wrong" he finally said, pulling you close and rubbing a hand through your hair.

"I will, I promise, just not here. Please not hear, when we're home" you begged and he heard the desperation in your voice, the fear that strangled you from telling him the truth he needed three weeks ago.

"Okay, at home. You can tell me then, just please calm down" he cried and you nodded againt his chest, counting your breaths like you had practiced. He held you through it, silent as he allowed you support while you did what you needed to do. Finally you gave him a nod and he helped you to your feet. He wished you would tell the directors you were sick, that you’d do the scene tomorrow but he knew youd be mad that he suggested it so he walked you that direction anyway, wiping tears from his eyes and painting a fake smile on his face and he realized that's exactly what you had been doing the last three weeks.

After that you both had been jittery getting through the day. Finally the director called it and awkwardness enveloped you as you collected your things and headed towards Miles Bronco together. He did his best to keep silent as he drove you through the busy LA streets, driving towards the safe haven you both shared. Miles did his best to keep his mouth shut as he locked his car and unlocked the apartment door. You were very clealry distraught and he watched as you dumped your things on the kitchen counter, the weight of the world crushing you into the ground. So he moved towards the couch, very obviously leaving the seat open beside him for you to take and start explaining yourself. You knew not to fight it, you had made a promise, and you never broke a promise with Miles.

"I'm not taking anymore bullshit Y/N, I want the truth and all of it right now" he finally broke the silence as you took your seat beside him. Hugging a pillow to your chest, tears lined your eyes as you finally told him everything from the beginning. Miles did his best to not get angry and interrupt as you told your truth, the weight of the news much heavier than he expected.

"For three weeks, that's almost a whole month Y/N" guilt bloomed through your body and he pressed his head in his hands, trying to not let the anger consume him. Yet as he thought of how angry he was he was able to recognize the jealous pull. That some bastard got to kiss you without permission when he's been wanting to kiss you the way a real man should since college. He had never realized that he had hid that from himself all these years, denied himself of recognizing his attraction towards you. Stopped himself from loving you, and maybe if he didn't do that this would've never happened.

"I was scared he would hurt me, we were always alone" you told him, wanting him to know that you wanted him to know but sometimes fear controlled you in ways you couldn't explain.

"I was right inside that first night, I could've come out and stopped him" Miles argued and that’s when it hit him. The front porch, the doorbell, his phone. His eyes widened and you watched as his thoughts danced across his face.

"What is it?" you asked and without answering he rushed to his room, plugging in his phone as he opened the app that could hold the key to everything.

"Don't worry Y/N, I got a plan" sighing you let him hide out, making yourself some dinner. and trying to go to sleep despite knowing a nightmare would awake you soon. Yet when you woke up Miles was snoring softly beside you in your bed. A wave of calm rushed over you and you scooted closer before falling alseep again, the first real rest you had gotten in a long time.

When you woke up to your alarm he was no longer there, his car not even in the driveway. You figured he had early scenes and you had forgot. So you got ready, tried to slow your heart as you made your way to set, trying to prepare yourself for another day of torture. Yet before you could be called to set a knock sounded at your door, a worker telling you that you were needed in the table read room, a meeting with the show runners. Realizing that you were more than likely going to be fired you allowed a few tears to fall as you made your way in that direction. Your situation did not look good as you spotted the director, all the producers including your own abuser, and Miles all sat around the table.

"We're glad you could join us Y/N, have a seat" the director told you and you nodded, scurrying to the open seat beside Bradley.

"Usually we don't call meetings until production time John, what is it" one of the producers asked the director and John gave you a soft smile.

"Miles came forward to me today with some information I think we can't ignore" he finally said and your heart doubled in speed as you realized what he had done, started a battle you would never win without any evidence. "Mr. Conway here has been harrassing Y/N for the last three weeks, threatening to debunk her career if she told anyone"

"Oh this is bullshit and you know it" Conway said, but everyone clear as day could see the fear across his face.

"Miles has also provided evidence" John said before clicking the screen, ring doorbell footage of the first night appearing on screen. Miles hand wrapped around your own, knowing this would be tough to watch. It was hard for him to watch himself, crying the moment he realized you sat outside in tears waiting for him to go to bed.

The group watched as you and Conway approached the door holding hands, they all watched as his smile turned into a growl as he shoved you against the wall, fear clear as day on your face and he got so close you were breathing each others air. "If you don't agree to dating me I will proceed to make your life a living hell, you'll never be hired ever again, people will think of how trrible you are, your fans will hate you, after tonight your mine and if you tell absolutely anybody it’s game over, you'll never amount to anything ever again"

Then they all watched as you frantically nodded and he forced himself on you, you clearly trying to push him away. Then they watched him harshly release you, walk to his car, as you clearly sobbed on the front porch. John ending the video before they could see anymore, you clearly distraught from reliving that moment.

"We're going to allow Y/N to decide if she wants to press charges and I am fully prepared to pause production if you aren't willing to immediately terminate him" John informed them and you felt your heart warm over at the thought of him protecting you.

"We understand completely, Conway you’re fired. Have your things packed by the end of the day and be expecting a court order coming your way" relief washed over you completely as Conway sat there, shock all over him. Miles pulled you into a hug, Conway leaving the room with profanities falling from his mouth.

"We're sorry for this Y/N, if you need anything at all we're here for you. We will also testify in court if you choose to go in that direction" you nodded as they also got up and left the room. John placed a comforting hand on your back before leaving as well, a true hero in this situation.

"I can't believe you came forward for me" you told Miles, still hugging him like your life depended on it.

"I had too, your my bestfriend. I love you, I have always loved you" Miles told you, pushing some hair out of your face. Losing you was never an option.

"What if your plan didn't work?" you asked and he shrugged.

"Then I was quitting the movie" he told you earnestly and you smiled, pulling him tighter into your hug.

"I love you Miles" you told him and he smiled before pulling back a little.

"I know this probably isn't the right time but after all this I figure you deserve to know that I'm in love with you Y/N. I love you in that more than best friend way and after this whole disaster you deserve to know that beause you deserve to be loved the right way" for a moment you were shocked, allowing his words to sink in because there was a moment you considered you and Miles. You just figured he'd never feel the same so you brushed it off, ignoring it for the sake of your friendship.

“Are you sure?” Miles hoped that this doubt wasn’t a symptom of the last few weeks of abuse.

“Positive Y/N, it took a lot of self control to not kill that asshole” you found yourself giggling through tears, a wide smile on your face for the first time in a month.

“I love you in a more than a best friend way too Miles” you grinned at him and he smiled arms pulling you close again.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked, wanting to make sure it was okay since that asshole never did.

“Yes, please” and he didn’t need any more confirmation before his lips were on yours. Instead of holding your breath like you had been for the last three weeks you inhaled him, breathing his air like he just filled you with life after the past month of torture.

A kiss to redeem every bad one, a kiss to start the healing process, and start finding yourself again. Which you had a feeling would be better than ever considering you had finally allowed yourself to love Miles in a way you always wished you could. This time you didn’t have to look out for the warning signs because you had Miles to protect you, and look for them too.

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that-one-random-writer · 1 year

Text

Caution to the Wayward Son Chapter 1

Rooster x f! Not pilot Reader- Enemies to lovers

Summary: One bad first date. That's all it takes for an impression to be rotten. A reputation costs more than just the price of dinner. Six months deployed on an aircraft carrier across the hall from the date. That is priceless in the navy.

Warnings: Cursing, Drinking, 18+ eventually Words: 1,838 no use of Y/N I'm doing a lot of research into the navy. If I'm wrong about something, I deeply apologize. I'm not in the navy, I do know some military things not all.

More stories from me

Next chapter is at the bottom for your convenience

There was a big party at a navy officers house. He had invited everyone to come drink and be merry for his thirty year old birthday. He had invited a lot of people. There were huge groups of pilots, WSOs, NFOs, this man had a crowd all supplying and sharing each other booze.

You were standing in the kitchen. There were white cabinets, foliage, and baskets made of wood holding different treats on the marble countertop. You looked around, acknowledging that the birthday boy either really loves interior design or most definitely had a wife. You held conversations with your coworkers about the house and work, meeting new WSOs and pilots. You smiled as a new one introduced himself.

"I'm Omaha," you shake his hand, returning the introduction with your name.

The living room was open concept. Just across the hard wood floors covered by other party goers, hangman spoke to Rooster on the couch. "I told you to get off your perch. Now look Omaha is going in for the kill. You've been staring at the poor girl for twenty minutes." Rooster looked back at hangman who had a girl by his side. "You have to go up to her to get her number." Hangman added. Rooster looked back at you watching Omahas encounter with you. It seemed you were letting him down easy. Rooster held his head in his hands.

Hangman stood up. "Alright, I've had enough of this..." He trailed. The girl following behind him.

Rooster knew what he was doing. "Hangman..." He trailed.

Hangman called over his shoulder. "You said I could be your wingman anytime."

Rooster called back. "I meant in the air."

Hangman chuckled. "Not a chance you'll be my wingman up there. Down here, though. I'm your guy. Look, I've even got you a weapons system operator. She knows exactly what works picking up girls, dont you." The girl nodded, giggling. He stepped away with his girl on his hip. Rooster watched but looked nervously on his phone once hangman appeared in your conversation.

You stood talking casually to one pilot when another appeared next to him. "Omaha... do you mind if I speak with the lady?" This pilot had a woman by his side. You felt comfortable having another woman around. There were far fewer females within the navy. His voice spoke over the music playing. "I'm hangman. This is Tinsley." You introduced yourself, giving them your name. Hangman smiled.

"It's nice to meet you." He repeated your name back. "Look, I have a friend. He's a little shy. I was wondering if I could give you his number?" You smiled lightly about to shoot him down.

Tinsley read your expression. "Let me show you what he looks like." Tinsley pulled out her phone and pulled up a picture of Rooster from the teams beach adventures. "He's really funny. He wears these Hawaiian shirts. He's a sweetheart. He's not really shy. He just couldn't find an opening to come talk to you. We thought we would help him out. You look gorgeous. I love your outfit. "

You saw the pictures and had a different view of his personality from the insecure man hangman sold him as. Your expression gave off a different vibe to Tinsley than it did before. "Thank you. I like yours too." You complemented her outfit back.

She scrolled a couple more over. "He's got a nice body, too. We can give you his number and you can think about it. No pressure."

You nodded. "Alright. I like a funny guy."

Hangman gave you the number and walked back towards Rooster. "Alright, loser, it's done. She's got your number. I've got a night ahead of me." He glanced back at Tinsley. "I'm taking off. Don't forget we have some training to do tomorrow."

Rooster looked back up at you. You had walked out of the kitchen somewhere he didn't see. He eventually called it a night himself.

The sun had risen once again. Rooster rolled over, checking his phone. A text had appeared. Pheonix had been the messager. He responded and got out of bed. He took a quick shower and got dressed in his flight suit. He checked his phone once again, hoping you had texted him, but once again, Pheonix had been the only name that popped up. He walked out of his room and traveled down the barrack hallway. He made sure his key card was in his pocket as he closed the door.

Training began. They were studying maneuvers. "So..." hangman trailed. As they got up for a break.

"Nothing." Rooster shook his head at hangman.

"Don't worry. She seemed into it. Give her some time. Maybe she stays on a perch, too." Hangman shook his head, poking fun at Rooster's expense. They continued training after the break ended.

Rooster made his way back to his room and sat down in front of the T.V. Training was over for the day. The sun was still in the sky. It was five o' clock. He grabbed his phone. He checked the notifications just one last time. He saw a number with a simple message.

'Hey, are you the guy from the party?'

You had been training yourself. You are a naval flight officer. You were watching radars and listening to the comms that day. You hadn't texted him throughout the day. You were focused on getting the training done. You sat on your couch after getting back to your room. You kept thinking you were forgetting something. You looked down as your phone vibrated. You messaged your roommate back about needing some laundry detergent, and then it dawned on you. You flipped through the contacts and hit the phone number. You decided on something simple.

You got an answer fairly quickly. You both continued the ping-pong texts.

'I'm the guy. My name is Bradley, callsign Rooster.'

You texted your name introducing yourself. 'I heard you on the comms today. I'm an NFO.'

Rooster tensed, nerves hitting at the thought you were actually talking to him and so close during work.

'That's not fair. I don't know what your voice sounds like.'

You smiled.

'We can change that tomorrow after work.'

You hit send, and butterflies fluttered all around your belly.

Bradley read the message twice, then a third time. Then, he responded.

'Yeah, that sounds good. What did you have in mind?'

You thought for a minute.

'What about dinner at the Italian place on Main St.'

The corner of his eyes crinkled from the smile he had.

'That sounds good. I'll see you then. Im changing out of uniform before we get there.'

You jumped up and over the couch. You ran straight to your closet. You sifted through the clothes. You tried on one, then another, then another. You finally landed on something simple yet eye-catching.

You folded the outfit into a bag and put it next to the door for tomorrow.

Bradley replied 'Ill change too. I'll see you tomorrow',

He got up, calmly walk over to his closet. He chose his favorite hawaiian shirt, it was a bit of a good luck charm, a white undershirt and a pair of light wash jeans.

He sat back down and leaned his head back, wonder what tomorrow would be like.

The next work day went by fast. You had gone to the locker room and got changed into your datewear. You walked out to your car and drove to the Italian restaurant. You both made a time clear during the work day through text. You got a call from your roommate. She needed your keycard. She forgot hers in the room and was locked out. You huffed in defeat and drove back to the barracks. It was a fifteen minute drive there. You gave her the key card and got her inside. She couldn't find her key card inside. You both spent another ten minutes trying to find it. You started to text Bradley to explain why it would take you a little bit to get there, but she had interrupted you, saying she left it at work. You never pressed send on the message. You shook your head and told her you'd drop her off but then had to go.

You both were supposed to meet at five thirty. It was five fifteen when Bradley arrived. He walked in, and the waitress led him to a table. It was now six o'clock. He scrolled through social media as time passed. He had already given up the thought you would be coming, so he ordered and had one too many glasses of whiskey. The clock hands were going fast, but Bradley's whiskey was going down faster.

You finally made your way in and sat in front of him. "Hey, sorry I'm late. I had something really important to get done."

He smiled drunkenly. "It must have been important."

"It was, I'm sorry. I like your shirt." You complemented his hawaiian shirt. He was a very handsome man. The pictures didn't do him justice compared to what he looked like in person.

"It can come off if you'd like." He smirked the smell of whiskey coming off his words.

"Um, no, I would rather it stay on for the first date. I'm not that kind of girl." As much as you wanted to see his body in person, you didn't just want a one night stand with an obviously drunk man.

He smiled. "Okay, I can respect that. How was your day..." He trails off like he can't remember your name. You tell him your name again and respond. "It was one hell of a day. It was fine until my roommate..." "Let me buy you a drink." He interrupted. "No, thank you. I don't drink to feel better, I drink to feel even better. Now, it doesn't seem like the time." You didn't want to put yourself in a bad situation, not knowing a guy, and both of you would be drunk off your ass. He watched as people passed, seeming to be lost in thought, not paying any mind to you for at least three minutes. "Alright, I'm going to go. This isn't for me." You spoke calmly.

He rolled his eyes. "You just got here."

You scoffed. "Bradley you're drunk, and I'm not into that kind of thing."

He sat up. "You were late!" He raised his voice.

You stood up. "So you decided to get..." You were raising your voice back. You cut off before you finish your sentence. You continued in a calm voice. "You know what I'm going to go, and I'm just... I'm going to go." You couldn't find anything more to say. You walked off back to your car. He didn't follow you. You sighed in relief as you sat in the car. You called your roommate. She picked up. "Thanks for forgetting your key that was a nightmare." She chuckled at your failed efforts. "So, no second date?" You groaned. "Absolutely not. He was drunk and yelled at me. I can't stand him. He was yuck!"

You got home and settled in for the night. You got a call at about nine. "Yes, sir. I understand, sir." The call was quick. Your roommate gave you a look. Your head fell. "I got my orders. Deployment for six months. I have to pack. I leave tomorrow at noon."

You entered the new bunk you would be living in for the next six months. You unpacked everything into your locker.

You were expected to be in formation on deck in ten minutes. Once you got done unpacking, you opened the door to make your way to the deck. You saw a tall figure in front of the door opposite of yours. You followed up the figure to find none other than Bradley 'Rooster'. "It's going to be a long six months." You spoke out loud with a scowl. "Yup." He matched your angry tone and followed behind you to the deck.

Chapter 2

No permissions to share the story as your own. Do not repost to any site. Don't steal from aspiring authors that makes you a 'C U Next Tuesday'!

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constantlywriting1 · 2 years

Text

Take My Breath Away Pt. 1: Rooster x F! Reader

Summary: You live in California close to the Naval Air Station Miramar. You frequent the bar where the pilots drink and often make friends with them. It’s nothing to run home about until you have a one-night stand with one Brandley “Rooster” Bradshaw. This wouldn’t usually mean much, but since you had been friends with all of his “coworkers” things could get a little awkward

Word Count: 1927

Warnings: implied sexual activity, smooching, nudity, casual flirting. Also not my gif.

A/N: I want to make this into a three-part series so stay tuned. pt. 2 will be a lot more smutty

You sat beside Hangman and Phoenix listening to them bicker with their beers in hand. You on the other hand were on your third margarita. You took another sip as Phoenix finally turned toward you.

“You’re a civilian, do you think that Navy guys get more girls?” She questioned, clearly trying to prove Hangman wrong.

“It’s personal preference but I don’t prefer them.” You answered playfully.

Hangman looked over at you as if you had said something preposterous. He put down his beer, hard, and leaned over Phoenix to get closer to you. “You don’t prefer them?” he shouted.

“No, I don’t.” You began to smile, unable to take yourself seriously. It was true, you were lying. Navy guys especially aviators make you feel as though you had been shot through the heart with one of their missiles. They were always fit and somehow made their arrogant attitude so attractive. The worst part about your lie was that Hangman had hard evidence that would immediately disprove your claim.

The previous weekend you had all been in the bar and you had been a little tipsy. In front of most of the aviators, you danced on him, a little less than innocently, and even sat on his lap when he was playing the piano. This wouldn’t be that big of an issue if you didn’t sleep with him later that night. It wasn’t sneaky, you were sure Hangman had seen the two of you leave together but still, you decided to lie.

“You guys are too cocky, what girl would be into that.” You continued.

Hangman was completely baffled. He knew what he saw and he could vividly remember the way you looked at him and his friends the first night you met. “You’re really going to sit in front of me and say you don’t prefer aviators?” he asked.

You didn’t waste a second. “I thought we were talking about the Navy, not the Airforce.” It was your favorite to pretend you had no clue what your new group of friends did for a living.

Phoenix couldn’t help the burst of laughter that came out of her as Hangman sat back in his chair. You gave the woman next to you a quick wink, before taking another sip of your drink.

Hangman sat silently for a moment as if he were trying to come up with something to say that could put you in your place without completely exposing something he didn’t know to be fully true. He opened his mouth to speak but quickly closed it as his eyes trailed somewhere behind you, a slick grin appearing on his lips.

Your smile immediately faded as you turned to see what he was looking at. Your heart dropped. Rooster was walking into the bar with his Hawaiin shirt fully unbuttoned, showing his white t-shirt that stretched perfectly over his chest. For a moment you can’t take your eyes off of him, flashing back to the half-drunk sex the two of you had, but you quickly pulled your eyes away when Hangman’s voice began to ring in your ears.

“Roos, come over here and help me prove a point.” He shouted.

Rooster made his way to your table and looked toward Hangman with complete disinterest. When he stopped walking his stomach was inches away from your face. You looked away, physically restraining the smile that so badly wanted to expose how happy you were to smell his cologne.

“She says she’s not into Navy guys.” Hangman interrupted your gawking, motioning in your direction.

Rooster took a step back so that he was able to get a better look at you. You watched as his eyes took their time analyzing every available inch of you. His gaze was practically palpable. He could tell you had a few drinks in you and yet somehow you seemed extremely calculated. You gave him a quick glance through your lashes before turning back toward Phoenix and Hangman.

“She likes what she likes.” Rooster shrugged and you couldn’t help the smile that his words provoked.

“See, it’s not that crazy of a concept,” you shouted over to Hangman. “You guys are too cocky anyway.”

This made Rooster perk up. “That works on some women,” he said, raising his brow.

“Well, not me.”

You wanted to burst out into laughter. It had been fun pretending you weren’t attracted to the men around you, but it was becoming harder to keep yourself from making some sort of suggestive joke about the man across from you. He was reading you like a book and though it seemed like only you could tell, you were sure someone would catch on eventually.

The four of you sat and debated for a while longer before Hangman finally gave up and challenged Pheonix to a game of pool. She agreed, leaving you and Rooster alone at the table.

“I guess I really did get lucky.” He immediately began to joke.

You looked over at him, your eyelids feeling heavy as you scanned his features. “Oh, you have no idea.” You said in a clearly exaggerated tone.

Rooster let out a small chuckle before scanning the room to make sure no one important was within earshot. “About the other night, I had fun but I don’t want to give you false hope.” he began.

Without fully realizing it you rolled your eyes. Of course, he would assume you were looking for something serious. “Listen, Bradley, I’m a grown woman. I know what happened was a one-time thing, you don’t have to worry about me.” You replied.

You could see the tension leave his shoulders as he let out a sigh of relief. It wasn’t often that two people so quickly understood one another and he appreciated that about you. The first night you two met you were dancing on tables and singing loud enough to be heard outside of the bar. You weren’t always so outgoing but with a couple of drinks in you, there was no telling what you would do. From the moment you laid eyes on each other, you both knew what was to be expected of the night. It took him two drinks to approach you and four more to ask you if you wanted to go somewhere more private. It was fun and a much-needed release for both of you.

Now, as the two of you sat drinking and laughing you realized there was something different about him. Sure he had that same arrogance that seemed to come with all aviators, but he also had an unidentifiable charm about him. He was attractive, there was no doubt about that, but he was also adorable and filled with a light you hadn’t seen before. As you both continued to drink you found it harder to keep all of this information to yourself.

Eventually, the group you had arrived with was completely gone. Both you and Rooster looked around the bar only to realize the entire bar was empty besides the two of you. A string of giggles filled the air as you paid off your tab and followed Rooster toward the beach.

Holding your shoes in your hand you stumbled haphazardly on the sand. You felt an arm wrap around your waist and looked up to see Rooster saying something about keeping you on your feet. He was completely unaware that it wasn’t the alcohol making your knees weak, it was him.

You had lived near the base most of your adult life and never had you met someone like him. He was somewhat old-fashioned, but you liked that about him. You liked the way he made you feel safe without suffocation and how nonchalantly he could hold you in his arms. You didn’t want anything serious, but you would be lying if you said you didn’t want him back in your bed.

“I have an idea.” You said, taking a step away from him and turning toward the water.

Your sudden excitement caught him off guard but he was curious to hear what you had to say. “What?” He asked.

“We should go skinny dipping.”

Rooster immediately began to shake his head, but you were already taking off your pants.

“I really don’t think that’s a good idea.” He frowned.

“Oh come on. It’s late no one’s gonna come out here.” You smiled while continuing to strip.

“Exactly, what if you drown or something?”

“Then you’ll save me. Don’t be such a pussy.” And with that, you were completely naked and running into the water.

Rooster stared at you for a moment before shaking his head. “Don’t be such a pussy Roos.” he egged himself on.

Soon you were both in the ocean. You had swam to a point where the water met your hips, using your forearms to cover your chest. “It’s a little colder than I expected.” Rooster smiled awkwardly, finally catching up to you.

You looked down where the water met his waist, shamelessly examining his v-line. Without saying a word you submerged yourself underwater. You didn’t open your eyes but you could tell he was shifting in the water. When you reemerged you were closer to him than you originally thought. The cold water had sobered you up a little and you felt bad for invading his space. You pushed your hair out of your face and could immediately tell he had taken a peek at your bare chest.��

“You know, I think we could be really good friends.” You grinned, letting your arms rest on your sides. You could tell that his face was turning red from the glare of moonlight.

“I thought we already were.” He replied.

You took another step toward him. “I think we could be closer.”

Rooster looked down at you, you’re pupils completely blown. At that moment he knew there was no going back. The two of you had crossed a line and he was willing to figure out what was waiting on the other side. He reached out to brush a piece of wet hair off of your shoulder, leaving his hand so that his thumb was grazing your neck.

“I don’t know if you’re ready for that.” He smirked, finally matching your mood.

You wasted no time before wrapping your arms around him and connecting your lips to his. Rooster pulled you in closer by the waist, making sure that you could feel him on you. Your kisses were sloppy but somehow completely gratifying. You felt his hand trail down your back, sending shivers down your spine. He grabbed your ass and lifted you into the air.

You let out a soft moan before screeching as both you and Rooster fell into the water. When you emerged out of the water you were hysterically laughing as he tried to catch his breath. “You almost just killed me!” He shouted.

You couldn’t even answer you were laughing so hard, but you immediately stopped as you felt water splash onto your face. You turned your head to see Rooster with a massive grin on his face. You splashed him back and before long you were both a laughing wet mess.

You went to push him but he grabbed onto your wrists, bringing you closer to him. “I think you’re giving me a lot of false hope right now.” you teased.

“And I thought I wasn’t your type.” He replied, moving his thumb over your bottom lip. You took in a deep breath as he pulled you in again.

“Maybe we both spoke a little too soon.”

#miles teller #fanfiction #rooster shorts #rooster x reader #rooster bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster fanfic #rooster x y/n #rooster x you #topgunmaverick #top gun movie #rooster fanfiction #rooster smut #rooster top gun #miles teller fanfiction

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lovewithasideoffries · 2 years

Text

wave: peter hayes x reader

notes: takes place in insurgent

summary: idk if i wanna spoil it bc this is my attempt at making you cry. it's angsty tho.

word count: 1k

“Tris!” you call her name, running over and pulling her in for a hug. You and Christina have been worried sick waiting for her at the Candor compound. Jack Kang was kind enough to let you and the rest of the Dauntless stay there for a while.

“Hey guys,” she says when she pulls away. You notice she's cut her hair short; it looks good.

“Have you seen Will?” Christina asks her.

“Or Peter?” you add and she makes a face. Both Christina and Tris have never approved of your relationship with Peter. And for good reason. But your staying with him, despite his hard exterior and rude insults, is also for good reason.

“No, I haven't seen Will, I’m sorry,” she says, “And Peter… Well, last I saw him was in Amity, when he tried to sell us out to Eric.”

You ignore the last part of her sentence - Peter does everything for a reason, even when sometimes you can't explain it.

“You went all the way to Amity?” Christina asks, shocked. “You have to tell us everything.”

“I will,” Tris promises, before she gets swooped away by Tori and you all head back inside. It's not too safe for you to be out here, with all the lies Jeanine is spreading about the Dauntless and Divergents.

Once they get inside, guards take Tris and Four away to a Candor trial using the truth serum used for Candor initiation. You’ve never been under it before, but you've heard much about it.

Apparently for Candor initiation, you’re forced to spill your deepest, darkest secrets. Seems like hell.

When Tris spills that she killed Will, you turn to pull Christina into a hug. You’ve known her since you were kids and you’d never seen her as in love as she was with Will.

You understand your friend’s frustration, she’s just lost the love of her life, but you also understand Tris’s side of things. Really, it's neither of their faults. It’s Jeanine’s.

That anger is what drives you to join the rest of your faction when they team up with the factionless. The whole time you’re wondering where the fuck Peter is and if he’s safe, but you get no closure on that.

And it seems you never will, because just after you settle in the large makeshift home of the factionless, the little piece of metal in your shoulder puts you in another sim.

Tris watches with horror as you, Hector, and Christina stand over a balcony and deliver Jeanine’s message. She only has a split second before all three of you throw yourself off the balcony and she can only save Hector and Christina.

That night she decides to just go to Erudite’s headquarters, not wanting more innocents to die because of her. It is there she wakes up in a small room to Peter, dressed in an Erudite suit.

She glares up at him and her eyes burn with tears over you. Over your love for this fucking traitor. Over how the whole time you’d been so concerned and worried on where Peter was, if he was okay, when this whole time he’s been working with the side that made you throw yourself off a building.

“You know I knew you were stupid, stiff, but I didn't know you were that stupid,” he smirks. “Coming to Erudite willingly? Seriously, what were you thinking?”

“I didn't want more innocents to kill themselves. I’m not worth that much,” she mutters, blinking back tears. She was not going to give him the satisfaction of watching her cry after what he’s done.

“I know. See, it was my idea to do that. Pretty intelligent of me, no?” Peter tells Tris, and it makes her blood boil. “I know you all too well, huh?” he laughs. “Just shows that you can take the girl out of Abnegation but you can't take Abnegation out of the girl.”

“So do you not know or are you just fucking heartless,” she spits at him. Tears are about to fall now, and honestly Tris doesn't care anymore.

“Know what, Stiff?” Peter asks carelessly, not believing she has anything to say that he would care about.

She laughs, but there's no humour in the bitter sound. “You really don't know, huh, Peter.”

“I don't know what, Tris?!” he asks again, but this time lacking the insincere teasing and usual cockiness in his tone.

“You know the whole time, she never stopped asking about you, worrying about you, hoping you were okay. She ignored every attempt at keeping her away from you, every attempt at saying you were a bad person. The whole time, Y/n never stopped loving you.”

At the mention of your name Peter’s heart drops to his feet. How stupid of him to not consider that you would be with Tris. You are friends with her after all, and you are nothing if not kind and loyal.

“What happened to her, Tris?” Peter asks but he knows the answer.

“Y/n was one of the people under the second simulation. She was one of the people that tried to kill themself.”

He shakes his head in disbelief and tears run down his cheeks. “But… but you saved her right? You’re a stiff, you’re selfless, you’re supposed to save the innocent!”

By now Peter’s on his knees, too overwhelmed by the pain to stand. But Tris doesn’t take pity on him. Instead, she takes the knife in his chest and drives it deeper. “Y/n loved you, Peter. And she’s dead. Because of you. You killed her, you hear me? This is on you! So I hope you’re happy Peter. I hope whatever the fuck Jeanine offered you was worth it. Was worth Y/n’s life.”

He chokes on a sob, holding his body as he rocks back and forth. You were his hope, his happiness, his everything. And now you’re gone.

Peter remembers that you had once told him that grief was like riding a never-ending wave of pain and suffering. Over time, the pain would ease and the suffering would lessen, but you would still be riding that wave, it just got easier.

He said that he’d never experienced grief before, never ridden that wave. In response, you told him he was lucky, and that if he ever did start to ride that wave, you’d be there for him, you’d be there to help him ride it out.

But now, as he feels his world crash down around him. As tears fall down his cheeks and the realization hits him, his journey on that wave is starting. It’s starting and you aren't here to help him through it. You aren't here to help him ride it out. And it’s all his fault.

divergent taglist:

@manyfandomsfanvergent

#divergent #divergent fandiction #insurgent #miles teller #miles teller divergent #peter hayes #peter hayes x reader #peter hayes fanfiction #peter hayes angst #divergent angst #miles teller fanfiction #miles teller x reader

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deadratio · 2 years

Text

Blackwood Ch. 4

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x fem!Blackwood!Reader

Summary: (Y/N) ‘Finch’ Blackwood had grown up her whole life without knowing the true identity of her father. She had always thought herself to be content without knowing who he was, but when her work crosses paths with his own, they both face challenges in trying to figure themselves out. Meanwhile, she doesn’t know that her childhood best friend has made his own way through the Navy, and will be joining them on their adventures.

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: Angst directed toward a parent, some cursing

A/N: Here is chapter 4! I appreciate y’alls patience with me getting this out, this semester has been busy so far but I’ve found some spare time to get some writing in. (Ghost) Riders in the Sky is on hiatus for the time being - I am trying to figure out how I want to continue with it and I may change the way I write it.

HUGE THANK YOU TO @callsignthirsty for beta'ing this and giving me suggestions on my writing, I can't express how amazing they are!

As always, please let me know what you think, and happy reading!

Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Masterlist

The first thing Finch does the next day is invite her mom out to visit her. She knows her mom is acting weird for a reason, and won’t tell her anything over the phone. So Finch oh so kindly offers to fly her out and pay for her to stay for the weekend, since she would be off anyways.

Charlie was extremely hesitant at the offer. She knows her daughter, which means she knows that she is up to something. She just isn’t exactly sure what that is. After thinking it over, Charlie gives into her daughter’s pleas. The truth will come out eventually, she knows, and it might as well come from her. God forbid Pete finds out and tells her first. No. It would be much better, Charlie knew, if she told Finch first.

Sitting at the edge of her bed, Charlie holds the framed photo in her hand, a finger gently running through the dust that lines the glass. She remembers the day relatively well, she doesn’t think she could forget even if she tried. It was the day that Maverick told her he was staying at Top Gun to be an instructor. They celebrated in the best way they knew: going to the club, returning to her place, then drunkenly stumbling through the doorway.

He told her that night that he loved her, and she believed him in his intoxicated state. She had been a believer in the quote ‘drunk words are sober thoughts.’ He made love to her. Practically worshiped her. Made her feel like they could stay like that forever and the world would be better for it, like they could take on the world as long as they were together. It was truly unlike anything she’d ever experienced before.

It would all come crashing down two months later..

Maverick quit instructing and took an assignment to somewhere out of the country weeks later. He avoided telling her until he was just three weeks out from his deployment. He said that it was for the best — calling things off in an attempt to preserve her feelings in case he didn’t come back alive.

Flabbergast, Charlie had sent him out of her home immediately. She wasn’t exactly sure how she should feel about it all as she piled all of his stuff into a garbage bag and left it on her porch. She just felt numb. She knew that Maverick was an adrenaline chaser, but not to this extent.

And here she was, just over thirty years later, going to visit their daughter at the place where it all started. He would be there, doing who knows what. She hoped that since it was the weekend that they wouldn’t run into him, and that everything would be fine. But things never went according to plan with Maverick. At least, not on the ground.

She slides the picture back into the box that had been hidden under her bed for years, sighing deeply before returning to packing her bags.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Finch is on a mission when her mother arrives at the airport Friday evening toting a single suitcase and a handbag. She’s wearing a comfortable pair of leggings and a thin sweater. She wasn’t exactly sure how her mom wasn’t overheating in the dry California heat, but she didn’t question it.

Taking the suitcase from her, Finch guides her to the front of the airport where their Uber awaited them. While they had hugged in greeting back near Arrivals, they hadn’t shared anything more than pleasantries. Finch knows exactly what she wants to talk to her mother about, but with a quick look at their Uber driver, doesn’t want to do it in the company of a stranger.

The ride to Charlie’s hotel takes longer than they expect, but that’s just how the traffic in the area is. No one gets anywhere on time. After checking in, Finch might as well have pushed Charlie into the room, closing the door behind her and flipping the lock.

Charlie barely has time to set her things down before Finch assaults her with questions.

“So, now that I’ve got you here in person, do you want to explain to me what the fuck went on between you and my coworker?” she demands, arms crossed over her chest, glaring daggers at her mother.

Charlie sits precariously on the desk chair provided and sighs at her daughter’s question. She knows the weight the answer carries and figured this is what would happen.

“Honey, can I at least get settled in?” She asks in return, leaning against the back of the chair. Frankly, Charlie’s exhausted from hauling the truth across the country with her. But she can tell that Finch isn’t putting up with any of her stalling, and she will likely draw the answer out of her any way she can sooner rather than later.

“Yeah, if you want to keep dodging my questions and avoiding me for the rest of the night,” Finch sasses. “I brought you out here to spend time with me, first and foremost, but you know the other reason why I brought you out here as well. You can’t avoid me forever, and I will find out one way or another.” The ‘even if you don’t particularly like my means’ part goes unsaid.

“Maverick is a good guy. Kind of stuck in his head, yeah, but he means well and he’s a damn good pilot,” Finch explains while Charlie goes silent and begins to unpack her bag. “I find it both interesting and funny that any mention of him silences you almost completely.” When Charlie’s shoulders visibly tense, Finch knows she’s got her mom right where she wants her. “Look, I know it’s hard for you to talk about the past, and I understand, I really do, but whatever whatever this is… whatever you’re hiding from me isn’t helping my situation at work, my relationship with him, or protecting me,” Finch confesses as she takes a seat on the bed far enough away from Charlie that they both have room to breathe.

Charlie gives her statement a thought, her eyes dredging over Finch’s facial features as she looks over her shoulder. She looked so much like him; it was a wonder she hadn’t connected the dots already. Sighing heavily again, Charlie decides it’s time to stop avoiding the subject and be direct.

Chewing on her bottom lip, Charlie knows she has to blurt it out or else she’s going to take too long to say it and begin to overthink her decisions.

“Maverick is your father.”

She says it simply. There’s almost no emotion in her voice. Her eyes are stuck on the floor, the ugly carpet more interesting that the topic of conversation. She doesn’t dare to look at Finch’s face in fear of her reaction.

The air of the tension in the rooms changes. Finch can’t believe what she’s hearing. She can’t be serious. Finch knew that her biological father was out there somewhere, but she didn’t think that he was literally right under her nose.

This definitely isn’t how Finch expected this visit to go. She doesn’t even know what to say. She was just thinking that her mom and Maverick had some sort of short fling, but apparently, she was the result of said fling. Finch wanted nothing more than to run out of the room and scream. This could not be happening.

Charlie finally wills herself to look at her daughter. There’s a tapestry of emotions strewn across her face, but none that can easily be read. Her heart shatters at the notion that her daughter might not even want to know who her father was, but here she was, revealing the truth after thirty some-odd years.

Finch falls back onto the mattress and heaves with exhaustion. She can hear her mom get up from the desk chair, making her way over to the bed. The mattress dips with Charlie’s weight, her hand reaching out to grasp Finch’s.

“Honey,” Charlie starts, still avoiding looking directly at her daughter. “I know it’s a lot to take in, but you deserved to know. There was no other way for me to get it out.”

Sitting up, Finch looks over at her mom and takes in her features. While she’s still in shock from the news about Maverick — her father — she also wants to remember this rare moment of vulnerability from her mom. Her head finds its way onto Charlie’s shoulder, and Finch takes a deep breath, relaxing at the subtle vanilla of her mom's perfume.

“Why did you wait so long to tell me?” she asks, leaning further into her.

It takes her mom what feels like forever to answer her, but Finch knows she’s trying her best to be honest with her. “What I had with Maverick…it was something special to me. It was wrong, considering I was basically one of his instructors, but he was so good to me.

“He was great — thoughtful, a little lost in life, but otherwise unstoppably motivated. I don’t think he ever knew exactly what he wanted in life other than his wings. If he could spend every second of every day flying, he would. It’s going to be the death of him one of these days.”

Finch moves to meet her mother’s gaze again, intrigued by her story, and finds her smiling fondly.

“He lost his RIO, though,” Charlie’s smile drops. “I think that really changed his perspective on everything. His job, his career, us. When Goose died, Maverick was flying the plane. He couldn’t have done anything to prevent it, but Goose hit his head on the canopy when they ejected. He was dead before he hit the water.”

Finch goes rigid. She hasn’t lost anybody at work, hopes she never does, but knows that it couldn’t have been easy on Maverick to go through that. “That must have been hard for him,” Finch mumbles, unsure of exactly what to say, “losing his RIO like that.”

“They were more than that,” Charlie shakes her head with a sad half-smile. “They were best friends, inseparable, and Goose loved flying with him.” Finches heart breaks a little bit hearing that. She wonders if Maverick ever got over the loss, or if a bit of him died with Goose all those years ago. “He left behind a wife and son who I stayed in contact with after everything. You may not remember them, but they came over a few times when you were younger. After he graduated Top Gun and finished the assignment he was given, he decided to be an instructor. I was so proud of him, and so happy. We hadn’t exactly been exclusive, but at the same time hadn’t been seeing anybody else.”

“Too much information,” Finch joked to try and ease some of the tension, but she felt as though she was on the edge of her seat.

“To make this already long story short, it was blissful for two months while he instructed, but I guess he just wanted something different. He quit and left me three weeks before he deployed somewhere on the other side of the globe. I didn’t find out I was pregnant until a few weeks after that.”

Finch could infer the rest of the story from there. Her mom must have moved away from San Diego shortly after Maverick left. They had lived in Virginia for the first ten years of her life and then moved wherever Charlie’s job had taken them until they settled in the Northeast when Finch was a sophomore in high school. Charlie rubbed her daughter’s shoulder lovingly, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head.

The moment was interrupted by Finch’s phone ringing loudly, startling both women.

Finch reached into her pocket to retrieve the device. She pressed her thumb down on the answer button, bringing the phone to her ear.

“Hello?”

“Finch? It’s Rooster.”

Her breath catches. This weekend just keeps getting better and better.

Grinding her teeth, she pinches the bridge of her nose. “Rooster, hey. How did you even get my number?”

“Phoenix. Heard you two were pretty close.”

A moment of silence passes before Finch says anything. “Yeah, we are,” she confirms with a sigh. “Anyways, what’s up? I’m a little busy.”

She can hear shuffling from his end for a moment before he answers. “I’m sorry to bother you, but I think we need to talk about what happened the other day. If now’s not a good time, then we can schedule something. I just don’t want to talk about it in front of the others, you know.”

“Yeah, uh, I guess that’s fine with me.” Finches eyes flick to her mom. “How about tomorrow night? I’ve got some things going on right now, but I can meet you at the Hard Deck at, like, seven-ish,” she tells him.

Rooster hesitates, unsure of his answer for a moment. “Sounds great, first rounds on me. I’ll see you then.”

“Cool. I’ll be seeing you,” she says and hangs up.

Charlie pulls away from Finch, glancing over at her. Finch set her phone down on the nightstand, her head falling into her outstretched hands. A soft groan leaves her lips as she rubs her face.

“Who was that, honey?” Charlie inquires.

“Do you remember when we first moved out of Virginia, out to…I can’t remember where it was. But anyway, we moved, and your friend came to help us move and brought her son?” Finch asks, trying to clarify things for both her and Charlie, but her memory is so spotty she isn’t sure her mom will be know what she’s referring to.

“Goose’s family. Carole and Bradley,” Charlie answers, memories flashing through her mind. “Poor Bradley’s had to deal with more loss than anyone his age should. I heard cancer took his mom a while back. She was a fantastic woman.”

Finch grimaces, making a mental note to try and avoid asking Bradley too much information about his mom when she saw him the next night. “Well, I think her son is an aviator on this mission, but as you know, my memory doesn’t serve me too well. I think he’s Bradley, but we all call him Rooster. We were exchanging stories yesterday about how we got our callsigns, and his just…the story made so much sense. I can barely recall the memory he shared, but him saying it all, it came back to me, then.”

Charlie feels like she should be wrought with emotion, but holds herself up for her daughter, knowing that she’s going through far more than she could have ever imagined right now. “Well, honey, I think you need to talk with him about it when you see him tomorrow. It’ll be nice to see an old friend and catch up.”

Finch nods, licking her lips. Her head is racing with all kinds of thoughts now, and she’s not entirely sure she’s ready to face anything. But she knows she’ll have to work with Maverick on Monday, and tomorrow she’s meeting up with Rooster, which is arguably going to be much easier than facing the man who she now knows to be her biological father.

Chapter 5

Taglist:

@luckyladycreator2

@shouldershimmycity

@pennbii

@someone-pls-kill-me

@bayisdying

@cherrycola27

@pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy

@shrimping-for-all

@harper1666

@lonelywitchv2

@erinswrld

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planetnini · 2 years

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the story of us, bradley bradshaw -- masterlist

࿔･ﾟ*࿐ Y/N Y/L/N earned her title as one of the greatest fighter pilots that the United States Navy had ever seen, and so naturally she had been called back for a mission at Top Gun. After receiving the news, she comfortably settled with the team but there were still unresolved feelings and conflict between her and Bradley. Despite this, the two somehow always manage to gravitate toward each other and find themselves in more and more precarious situations - perhaps Clover and Rooster could find a way to be friends (or more) once again.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠! bradley ‘rooster’ bradshaw x fem!pilot-reader

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬! angst, hangman (sorry, he gets better), alcohol consumption, swearing, violence

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞! anyone else obsessed with miles teller atm? not just me then but i hope you guys enjoy this becos.... yeah i love me some good angst. also y/n call sign is clover which is rly cute and self explanatory!

part one

part two (in the works)

part three

part four

part five???

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spidey-d00d · 2 years

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what she said ^^

via: lostmymarblesagain on tiktok live 08/02/22

#top gun #top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #miles teller #miles teller fanfiction #miles teller x reader #brittany broski #lostmymarblesagain #tiktok #tiktok live #thank you brittany #broski nation

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intoanotherworld23 · 3 months

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Porn And Play

Summary: Bradley comes home to find you touching yourself while watching porn, and instead of stopping you he wants you to continue

Pairing: Reader x Bradley Bradshaw

Word count: 2.5k+ words

Rating: 18+ only MDNI

Warnings: there is smut, sex, masturbation, mention of porn, fingering, unprotected sex, daddy kink, spanking, dirty talk

A/N: If you like this please let me know in the comments and be sure to reblog it would be greatly appreciated! My tag list is always open all you have to do is ask! Thank you so much everyone for your continued support! XOXO

Hall Of Hunks

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

"Turn it on."

"Bradley please-"

"I said turn it back on now." Bradley says sternly his eyes squinting at you on the bed.

Feeling like you were going to throw up as your hands shook turning on the laptop to the video you were watching before he came home. Bradley smirking as he watches you then get comfortable on the bed.

Of all the intimate things that have gone on in this bedroom something like this has never happened. Not once has he ever seen you touch yourself, and he was getting excited at the thought.

Soon as you press play on the video you were watching minutes ago. He gives you this mischievous look that makes you swallow a lump forming in your throat.

"Well," he starts off as he unbuttons his shirt. "Keep doing what you were doing."

Taking a huge intake of breath as your hand drops down between your legs. Touching your incredibly wet folds not sure what to do with Bradley standing basically between your legs.

Moving your fingers up and down to gather the juices on your own fingers lubing yourself up. Gathering up some confidence as you pushed them inside of yourself. Opening your mouth open slightly already use to the feeling of your own fingers.

Hearing the over exaggerated moans on the computer screen. Feeling slightly embarrassed for being caught watching this while Bradley was away. Bradley however was focused on you and not the porn right in front of him.

Looking down to what you were doing ashamed to even look at him. Thrusting your fingers in and out a small moan escaping your lips. Straightening up as you cleared your throat awkwardly.

Quickly glancing at Bradley to see him grinning devilishly. The only clothing he had left on were his underwear. He was eagerly waiting in anticipation to when he could jump in.

He was intrigued watching you like this. It was almost like he was on the edge of his seat waiting to see what happens next. Your cheeks become warm as you hold his gaze.

"Just like that sweetheart." His hand rubbing himself through his boxers hoping to ease the pressure.

Your fingers stopping their movements for the slightest second. Bradley saw this and groaned with disapproval.

"Did I tell you to stop?" Taking another deep breath as you keep going.

Bradley couldn't keep his hands to himself anymore as you feel him grasp onto your ankle. The sudden touch had you jump. That didn't stop him though as he moved his hand up your leg. Massaging the flesh smoothly and in a comforting way that didn't intimidate you too much.

As you looked over quickly to the screen the woman was being fingered by some buff male. Her body writhing on the bed as the camera panned in on his fingers thrusting into her violently.

"I want you to come apart on your fingers." His hand pushed your thighs further apart so he could get a better look. "I know you can do it darling."

That was more than enough motivation for you as your fingers were slamming into you. The palm of your hand smacking against your pelvis. It felt good but it wasn't enough for you, and you needed Bradley.

"Bradley." Whining as you ground your hips into the mattress.

"What baby?" His hands now on your upper thigh so close yet so far away.

"Bradley please." Begging him without saying anything he knew what you needed.

He moves closer to you as his hand touches your pussy. Softly rubbing his thumb back and forth on your clit. The powerful sensation had your toes curling and your back arching off the bed. All you needed was his touch on yours, and Bradley secretly knew that.

Looking up at him to see his jaw clench, and his eyes wide with lust. Seeing this look on his face your now glad that Bradley caught you watching porn otherwise this wouldn't have happened.

"Keep fucking yourself." He grunts as he kisses the top of your knee. "I know you're so close."

You nod in obedience. A soft smile glistening on his hips for your full submission. He could see you like this all the time. It was the hottest thing he's ever bared witness to.

Eyes glancing over at the screen again the man was now thrusting into the woman not waiting or anything. Her moans were turning into wails as he railed her into the mattress. The sounds alone had your ears feeling like they were on fire from embarrassment.

"Is that what you like?" You had to make sure to answer him carefully.

"I want you Bradley." Shaking your head hoping your words would sway him. "Only you."

"Good." The pace of his fingers in match with your fingers inside of yourself.

It felt like your vision was getting hazy between your fingers and his. Any second now you could cum around your fingers, and he knew this judging by the look on your face.

"It hurts." Bradley hums at your words as he licks his lips.

"Does it?" Cocking his head to the side.

"Yes daddy it does." Hearing you call him daddy sends him over the edge. He had a weakness whenever you'd whisper that name. It always did something to him.

Not wasting another second in taking off his boxers tossing them somewhere in the room. Your fingers removing themselves as you laid back legs spread waiting for him with a slight glimmer in your eye.

"Does my baby want me to fuck her?" Bradley says as he waits for your response.

"Yes daddy I need to feel you inside me."

Bradley then crawls up your body his mouth kissing up your trembling stomach. His mustache brushing against your skin making your body jolt. A trail of saliva follows the movements of his mouth. Your hands on either side of your head as your chest rose up and down heavily.

"Are you ready for me?" He asked against your breast biting down on your nipple making you cry out.

"Mhm." Breathing out harshly.

"What's that?" Cocking his head to the side not accepting that reply.

"Yes daddy."

Before you could say anything else his mouth is right on yours. Taking your lips against his like they were the last drop of water. He was thirsty for you, and planned on swallowing every last drop of you.

His tongue feels so incredible against yours. The sensation for both of you is becoming insatiable. He craves every inch of you. His hand reaches up and holds your jaw in his hands. The warmth of his hand pressed against your skin gave you a comforting feeling. Almost like he was telling you that you were safe with him.

"Don't think we need this anymore." Quickly turning the computer off so you could solely focus on each other.

"You won't be needing to watch porn like this anymore." His words more like a command than a request. "I wanna show you how much better the real thing is."

Bradley watches your face as he nudges his cock towards your now dripping pussy, his large and swollen head disappearing between your folds. Finally moving forward even more.

Bracing himself against your hips as the air seems to leave your lungs. Both of you watching as his cock stretches you out. Silently cursing to himself when he sees how you welcome him. Gritting his teeth as his hands on either side of you grip on the sheets beneath him.

Bradley would never get used to the feeling of how tight you felt around him. It was almost like a soft velvety feeling he wanted to wrap himself around.

"No more of this shit I mean it." He growled kissing you hard. "You will only fucking cum for me and nobody else."

Mumbling his name with a whine, but that seemed to only delay his actions.

"Do you understand me sweetheart?" His cock still inside of you as he waited for your response.

"Yes daddy." That was good enough for him.

Moving his hips back as he pushed forward to fill you to the brim. Your head feeling back against the pillows reaching forward to grab onto his butt. His cheeks clenching as they flexed when he pressed into you.

"For now." Mumbling just under a whisper.

"Excuse me?"

Before you could repeat what you just said he's already flipped you over so that your on your stomach. Pulling your hips up so your on your hands and knees. Smacking your ass leaving a slight sting.

Unable to catch your breath he pushes back into you. Without another hesitation he's thrusting with the same rhythm and motion as before. Hands glued to your sides as he pulled you back to meet his hips.

"What did you fucking say?" He hissed each word being spoke along with a thrust.

His hand coming down on your ass again. Your skin felt like it was on fire the way he was controlling your body. He loved seeing you like this though.

"Nothing." Stuttering as you buried your head into the pillow.

"Uh Uh Uh." He tsked at you.

"Nothing daddy." Responding as you wiggled your hips teasing him even further.

"That's what I thought. That's better."

Bradley wasn't going to have that though. He wanted you to know that he was in charge, and wasn't going to put up with your back talking. All he wanted was to hear your words to him, and how badly you wanted it.

"Beg." Was all he said making you whine as he stopped his movements. "Beg for me."

Feeling suddenly shy and embarrassed to know you've gotta beg for him like a pathetic desperate whore.

"Beg for my cock and I'll give you what you want." His voice a touch softer as he pleaded with you. "I want to hear those pretty lips beg for me."

"Bradley I want your cock so badly please." You started off but he wanted more. "It hurts so much please I want you and only you. Nobody can make me feel the way that you do."

He was loving this more than he should.

"Fuck me so hard with your cock I can't walk for a week."

With that he begins such a unmerciful pace that has your body and the bed rocking. He wants you to know he's in charge, and that he's the only man you ever need in your life.

He's drinking in every detail. The way your ass jiggles each time he pushes forward, the way your pussy clenches when he pulls out, and the sounds coming from your lips. He wants to savor each moment like it's the last time.

"Such a good girl for me letting me fuck you like this." He praised sweating dripping down his forehead.

Bradley knows by your body that you aren't far, and your so close to the heavens he wants to help bring you to it. Wants to hear you scream his name as you cream around his cock.

"Bradley." The way you said his name was like a warning.

"What baby?" He made fun as he kissed your shoulder blade. "What's wrong?"

"I'm so close." Is all you can say which is the truth. Any moment now and you'd be drenching his cock with your juices.

Weaving his fingers through your hair slightly tugging pulling your neck back. Mouth hanging open as you waited to see what he would do next. You never knew with Bradley. One minute he could be cool and collected, and then next thing he's red with rage and unable to control his actions.

"Don't you want to cum around my cock?" He questioned with a grin on his face.

"Yes Bradley please so badly." You mewl pathetically.

Your body is beyond spent, and your arms and legs are trembling and shaking to the point you become numb. A tear rolling down your cheek, and Bradley is able to glance a peek.

"So fucking good for me baby." Clenching his jaw as a hand reached forward to grab your shoulder to have more leverage.

You can feel his breath on the back of your shoulder as he hovers over your body. His hips connecting with yours as your cheeks jiggle back and forth with each powerful thrust.

"You can take it darling I know you can take it."

Bradley wants to watch your face. He loves seeing the expression you make when you orgasm. To know that he's the reason behind that gives him pride.

The pressure is building faster and faster. It feel so close yet so far away. Within arms reach and Bradley isn't letting you grab it. He just grins wickedly down at your mewling and pathetic cries to him.

"I'm right there with you sweetheart." A hand slips under your body to attach to your clit.

A squeak slipping past your lips at the sudden and rough touch. It hurts but it a very good way that almost heightens the pleasure you're feeling. Turning your head your mouth finds the pillow and you bite down on it to muffle your sounds.

"You're doing good baby," he coos kissing your shoulder blade tenderly. "You're doing so good for me. You're okay you're almost there."

He pinches your clit between his fingers, and the small action sends you right over the edge. A shock running through your body almost like you were being brought back to life.

"Come for daddy."

He rotates his fingers slowly and gingerly on your clit to help ease you through your orgasm. His thrusting had slowed down, but he hasn't stopped. He simply keeps going and keeps his eyes glued to the side of your face. Spent and fucked.

"Oh fuck I'm right there." Nodding your head back at him as your able to see him from the corner of your eye.

Noticing you were trying to look at him his cock twitches violently as he fills you completely and utterly. His head resting against the top of your back. His arms shaking trying to hold himself up so he doesn't hurt your already sore body.

"That went way better than I expected." He chirps as he pulls out with a hiss your sensitive clenching as he did.

Feeling the mix of your cum and his dribbling out of you and onto the sheets. Your eyes fluttering with relief knowing it was over, but sad that he was done. Bradley could keep going until he passes out, but he didn't want to do that to your poor body.

Bradley's hand massaging up and down your spine all the way to your ass. Hoping his touch would help sooth you and comfort you. He knew you had to be tired, and wanted to help ease you into slumber.

"I'm serious though." He says making you lift your head to fully look at him.

Taking note of how red and sweaty his face is. His lips were swollen from kissing you, and biting down on his lips. His pupils were dilated like he just took something or he was high off of you.

"No more fucking porn. You can watch only my cock." That seemed a little extreme not letting you be able to watch porn. "So I guess we'll just have to make our own."

#bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw smut #miles teller fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw imagines #miles teller smut #miles teller x reader #miles teller #miles teller fic #Bradley bradshaw fic

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hopip99 · 2 years

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A/N: I'm officially on the fanfic train. It's going to be intense, so buckle in. Any feedback on my work would be much appreciated as well!

Masterlist

Disclaimer: Please read the warnings for this story. It is intense and touches on some very heavy subjects.

Summary: After being subjected to a nearly lethal dose of Darkenfloxx, Y/N is still feeling the side effects long past when they should've subsided. Jeff is there to help put her back together when she finally shatters and shares what happened.

WC: 2508

WARNINGS: Angst (like it's barely hurt/comfort... it's mostly just hurt), unethical testing of fictional drugs, mentions of sexual assault (nothing explicit but enough to be alarming), suicidal ideation, PTSD

An Unending Nightmare

Darkenfloxx was the worst drug the prisoners at Spiderhead could be exposed to. Every time, without fail, it forced the subject to relive their worst nightmares as though they were happening in that moment. For the most part, testing of Darkenfloxx was disbanded because the subjects became violent and may become a threat to others and themselves. That was until Y/N came along, and Steve Abnesti insisted on testing the horrid drug on someone convicted of a crime that they should never have been. Y/N had been assaulted on her way home from work one night and had killed her attacker before fleeing because he had threatened to follow her home and kill her if she didn’t continue to listen to him in that dark alleyway. When she was arrested, she pled not guilty but was still charged with involuntary manslaughter and sentenced to two years in prison. She’d applied for the Spiderhead program, knowing it should be objectively better than spending those years in a state penitentiary. For the most part, she was right. At least, she was until she had been tricked into trusting Steve Abnesti and sat in the uncomfortably bright white room used for testing.

“Alright, Y/N, this is your last test for the week. Permission to start drip?” Steve asks in his ever-charming voice without giving her any details on which drug she’d be testing that day since she was alone.

“Acknowledge,” she says without hesitation, unable to see the nod he’d given Mark nor the look of discomfort on Mark’s face as he administered the highest dose of Darkenfloxx he could without it being lethal. The effects were almost immediate. Y/N felt the creeping buzz of anxiety and panic prickle her skin before seeping deeper into her bones. It was the same feeling she’d had that night when she thought she was forced to take a life to be sure she could live. “I… Make it stop, please,” she began pleading as her surroundings shifted from the bright white room to the dimly lit alley she had always walked down to get home. The minutes started to feel like hours as she began hyperventilating, the feeling of that man’s hand taking up residence on her skin again. “Please make it stop,” she screams pleadingly, the vivid memory of her torn clothes and bruised body overtaking her reality at that moment. The Darkenfloxx wasn’t making her relive her crime, as it did with many of the others, because her worst memory was what had led up to her crime—hours' worth of events replayed in her head in a few short minutes.

Steve only gives Mark the okay to stop administering the Darkenfloxx when Y/N has begun to claw at the skin of her arms hard enough to draw blood. Unfortunately, the effects of the Darkenfloxx have not subsided as quickly as they came on, as Mark has to half carry her back to her room while everyone else is asleep so as not to arouse suspicion. Y/N can’t sleep that night, and she just sits on the floor of her private shower, fully clothed and with scalding hot water running all night.

How she doesn’t have any burns the next morning is a mystery, but she gets up and puts on a brave face. She is thankful that her long-sleeved shirts had come out of the wash the day before. She pulls on a black long-sleeve shirt with a pair of shorts to hide her scabbing arms from prying eyes, but there is no hiding the dark circles under her eyes.

Her movement is stiff and slow as she walks towards the kitchen to start her snack duties. She even takes her time pulling out what she needs for snack until she hears Jeff’s approaching footsteps. At that moment, she forces herself to move at her usual pace and put on a convincing enough smile. “Hey, Jeff,” she says, forcing herself to sound chipper as she usually does. Jeff doesn’t buy the fake tone.

“Hey, Y/N, you alright?” he asks softly, stepping beside her to help with the snacks.

“Yeah, I’m alright. I just didn’t sleep well last night, is all. They took me on a field trip yesterday, and I couldn’t stop thinking about it.” She surprises herself with how easily the lie rolls off her tongue, but it is only a half lie because she couldn’t stop thinking about what she experienced the night before. She hasn’t even stopped feeling the effects of the Darkenfloxx yet. Her skin is still vibrating with panic even though she’s standing next to the only person in the entirety of Spiderhead who can make her feel safe. If he doesn’t believe her, he doesn’t say as much. Instead, he just accepts her words with a slight nod.

“Alright. Then let’s get snack done so we have some free time,” he says with a half smile, bumping her arm playfully. Y/N nods and forces a smile even though the contact brings her back into the flashbacks the Darkenfloxx had induced the night before.

Her breath catches in her chest in a way that is nearly excruciating, but she plays it off with a cough and a proclamation of “I’m alright, just inhaled wrong.” Jeff gives her a look of utter disbelief but makes no attempt to dispute her words. Instead, he lets her tell him nothing is bothering her, and they set to work making the snacks. It doesn’t take them any longer than expected to finish preparing the snacks or any longer than expected to hand them out. As soon as they finish handing out the snacks, Y/N collects the plates from Jeff. “I’m going to go wash these. You go enjoy some extra free time, and I’ll join you as soon as I’m done,” she murmurs, her voice trembling. She doesn’t wait for a response, and he doesn’t follow. He just stares after, feeling completely confused.

The next few days pass in the same manner, and the side effects of the Darkenfloxx do not subside. Steve and Mark constantly check up on her when everyone else is asleep, or they call her to the testing room just to ask her what she's feeling day after day. When a week and a half passed, Y/N had not managed more than three restless hours of sleep a night. She’s sitting in the blinding white of the testing room for a final debriefing to see if the effects of that high dose of Darkenfloxx had finally subsided: they did not.

“I’m so sorry you’re still feeling the effects of the Darkenfloxx, Y/N. Just for the sake of data, I need you to tell me one more time what you're feeling. We’re going to administer Verbaluce to help you express what you’re experiencing. Acknowledge?” Steve asks his tone kind and laced with what could only be described as forced concern. Not the Y/N knew that.

“Yeah, whatever, acknowledge,” she mutters, sinking deep in the chair as she waits for the effects of the Verbaluce to kick in. Once the drug kicks in, she can’t help but immediately start speaking everything on her mind. “It’s the worst feeling in the world, Steve. Everyone else that I know says they relive the crime they committed that got them here. I don’t. I relive the hours leading up to my crime on repeat. I can still feel the callouses on that man’s hands; I can hear the sound of my top tearing, and I can feel it pressing against my skin. I haven’t stopped reliving that moment since you administered the Darkenfloxx nearly two weeks ago,” she spouts loudly and sucks in a sharp breath as tears start to fill her eyes. “I’m so exhausted. I barely sleep anymore, and it isn’t restful when I manage to get a few hours. The only people I normally feel comfortable around make me jumpy now, and I know they’re confused and worried, but they never pressure me for answers. I don’t want to make them worry, but living every day like I’m still on the Darkenfloxx is getting to be too much. No one knows you’ve been hiding anything sharp every night so I don’t get to them. They don’t know that there's no longer anything I can tie clothes or bedding to in my room. Anything that I could’ve used to end this suffering has been ripped away from me. And you won’t give me anything to counteract the Darkenfloxx yet. Not Luvactin. Not Laffodil. I just need something so that I can sleep, or I need you to let me die,” she nearly screams, her voice hoarse and wavering as tears stream down her face. “Whatever you have to do, please just make it stop. I can’t live like this anymore.”

Mark pales at her words and quickly terminates the Verbaluce drip before standing up to escort her back to her room. “We can’t let this go on much longer, Steve. As soon as this week is over, we need to give her one of the other drugs that will bring an end to the effects of the Darkenfloxx. It was a mistake administering that high of a dosage, especially on someone that has a clear case of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.” Steve nods in agreement, and Mark quickly takes Y/N back to her room. She spends the night staring at her ceiling, letting her tears fall until she’s physically incapable of crying anymore. The next day, she is late for snack duty for the first time, and she gives Jeff some unconvincing excuse that she can’t even remember. She disappears to an empty decompression room when they're done cleaning up. Primarily, the room is used for reading when the prisoners don’t want to read in the common area or the room.

That is the last straw for Jeff. He’s been biting his tongue for a week. A week of seeing the dark circles under her eyes grow and darken to an alarming extent. A week of seeing her eyes and cheeks puffy and red with tear stains down the sides of her face. A week of her jumping any time he touches her or gets too close when she can’t see him. A week of her wearing long sleeves that are clearly sticking to her arms. A week of her making up excuses to be alone. A week of her being brought to her room late, he wasn’t sleeping until he was sure that she was in the safety of her room. A week of her lying about what tests they’ve been doing because there is no way she went on four field trips in a week. He takes a deep breath and follows her into the decompression room, kneeling next to her. “Talk to me, sweetheart. I can’t help you if you keep bottling this up,” he says gently, making no move to reach out for her because reaching out had scared her a lot through the last week and a half. Those words are all it takes for the dam to burst, though, and Y/N dissolves into a sobbing mess as she moves closer to him.

He quickly shifts into a sitting position, Y/N settling between his legs as she buries her face into his chest and tightly grips his t-shirt in her fists. “Y/N,” he murmurs shakily, his heart breaking at the sight of her in such distress.

“It’s awful, Jeff. I want to die, and they’ve taken everything away that could help me die,” she sobs, and his heart shatters. He wraps his arms tightly around her, feeling her body tense in response, though she slowly relaxes against him over the next few minutes.

“Tell me what happened, Y/N. I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart. I’ll do whatever it takes to help you feel better,” he whispers, rubbing a hand up and down her back to soothe her. She stays quiet for at least 20 minutes after that, giving herself time to calm down before attempting to speak. Jeff doesn’t push her to talk. He simply gives her all the time she needs before she speaks.

“The first day I seemed off a week and a half ago,” she rasps, “I didn’t go on a field trip the night before. I was in the testing room. Darkenfloxx. They gave me the maximum dose they could without it being lethal.” Those words alone were enough to start a fire in Jeff’s veins. He’d been among those who tested Darkenfloxx in the initial trials, and he maintained that it made his blood feel like it was on fire and that it was like reliving his worst moment on repeat while the drip was on. Hearing that Y/N, the sweet girl who ended up at Spiderhead because she was imprisoned for defending herself, had been subjected to Darkenfloxx at that high of a dose makes Jeff want to march right up to Steve Abnesti and tear him a new one. He doesn’t, though. He knows picking a fight will only extend his sentence, and it won’t help the girl falling apart in his embrace. Just when he thinks he can’t hurt for her any further, she tells him every detail of what she has been reliving, and it grinds the pieces of his already shattered heart into dust.

“I’m right here. I’ve got you. You’re safe. I’ll protect you,” he murmurs repeatedly, kissing her temple gently. “You’re safe, sweetheart. I’ve got you. Whatever you need. I’m right here,” he promises.

“I’m so tired, Jeff,” she whispers into the damp fabric of his shirt. I just want to sleep,” she murmurs, her voice already slowing as she starts drifting off against his chest. Even though she’s still on edge and terrified, Jeff’s sturdy frame and the smell of his soap on his skin soothe her and lull her to sleep for the first time in nearly two weeks.

“Sleep, sweetheart. I’ll be right here when you wake up. If you have nightmares, I’ll be right here to comfort you until you can go back to sleep. I promise. Just try and rest sweetheart,” he murmurs as she drifts the rest of the way into the welcoming embrace of sleep. Jeff stays true to his word even though he moves them back to her room after an hour, wanting to ensure she is as comfortable as possible. Steve doesn’t even interfere as he usually would. He simply notes how Jeff and Y/N interact and stores that information for later use. For the first time since she was given the Darkenfloxx, Y/N sleeps almost through the night and is lulled back to sleep by Jeff following an intense nightmare. She’s not back to normal, but she’s less jumpy, and Jeff is glued to her side every moment he can be. He plans to stay there until he’s sure that she is okay again.

Taglist: @milestellersimp

#spiderhead #jeff fic #angst #hurt/comfort #Spiderhead fic #Spiderhead fanfiction #miles teller #miles teller fanfiction #miles teller fic #movie #movie fanfiction

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dameronscopilot · 1 year

Note

Hey Dee, I can’t stop thinking about rooster trying to stop you ✈️ sad and drunk out of your mind 🥹

nonnie, i know this is a little off course from what you asked for, but i hope you enjoy it anyway!

love you through the window

bradley "rooster" bradshaw x reader

summary: Rooster comforts you after an unfortunate text from your fiancé sends you spiralling.

word count: 800+

content: angst, drinking, infidelity, panic attack, comfort, first kiss

song inspo: Zach Bryan — Loom

When you stepped out of your apartment a week ago with a duffel bag slung over your shoulder, there had been a permanence in the resounding thud of the front door as it swung shut. One that echoed in your ears as you walked across the wet pavement, drowning out the sounds of traffic on the street and the rumbling storm clouds above.

You’d ignored it then.

Ignored the distraction in your fiancé’s eyes as you leaned in for a kiss goodbye.

Ignored the hollow feeling in your chest, the parts of you that had been peeling away long before your flight to San Diego.

But now, when your phone screen lights up from where it’s resting on top of the table as you’re gathered at the Hard Deck with your fellow pilots, you can’t ignore the message that pops up, letters bold and bright—

20:27 - i can’t do this anymore 20:31 - there’s someone else You’ve had your suspicions, and you’ve had more than enough time to reckon with the ugly crash and burn your life has been careening toward for months now. But it hurts worse like this, the truth reduced to eight words glowing in the palm of your hand.

Bob looks like he wants to say something from where he’s seated beside you when he watches you unceremoniously pluck off your engagement ring and drop it into your half-full glass of beer, but Phoenix kicks him hard under the table, and his mouth snaps shut. He pushes at the bridge of his glasses instead, sliding his own untouched drink your way.

Minutes and hours start to blend together as you work your way through several more glasses, going from moderately buzzed to nearly falling out of your seat, at which point you find yourself pressed against a warm body, a pair of arms helping you back up.

“You okay?”

There’s concern in Rooster’s eyes as he looks down at you, one hand resting on your shoulder.

“Never been better, Rooster,” you sarcastically reply, reaching for the latest cup of beer you’ve been nursing.

“Did somebody lose a—” Fanboy is cut off by Phoenix clapping a hand over his mouth, but the damage has already been done when both you and Rooster glance over to see him holding up a shiny, golden band, fingers wet with beer from fishing it out of the glass.

Rooster’s eyes dart down to your left hand, and he starts to say your name, but you cut him off as you grit out, “Let it go.”

You know he’s not going to.

“What did he do this time?”

There’s anger in his tone, though it’s not directed at you. But you don’t care. You can’t do this right now.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me.”

You’re too drunk for this. Too goddamn drunk and angry and hurt.

“Well I don’t want to fucking talk about it,” you snap, stumbling as you go to stand up again.

Rooster tries to steady you, but you tear yourself out of his grasp, storming toward the exit. When the door to the bar swings open, you just barely make it to where your rental car is parked before you’re grasping the driver’s side door, gasping for breath.

It’s a balmy night, but—maybe because of the panic rapidly rising up inside of you—the air feels stifling. And just like that, you can't breathe.

Your fingernails drag across the cool metal of the car’s frame as you scramble for purchase, heart pounding and head swimming. Waves crash against the breakers across the sandy beach, the scent of salt air flooding your nostrils, and for a moment you’re out there treading water at the mercy of the current, untethered and sinking.

And then you find yourself wrapped up in a strong embrace from behind, the noise in your head going quiet at the sound of Rooster’s voice, his chest to your back, mouth pressed against the shell of your ear—

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you.”

He hugs you tighter when you turn in his arms, burying your face in his chest.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs, thumbs rubbing circles into your back.

And it’s those two words that make you begin to cry harder, because it’s true. Wrapped up in Rooster’s arms, in the familiar scent of his cologne, the steady beating of his heart, you do feel okay. You feel like you’ve washed up ashore, oxygen filling your lungs as you cough up the stale, acrid remains of the sea.

It’s always felt like this with Bradley—safe.

Reassuring.

Home.

But the two of you have perpetually been two ships passing in the night. Years of fondness and attraction unable to breach the barriers of wrong place, wrong time.

“He never deserved you,” he mutters against your hair.

But you did.

You still do.

“You should have said that when he proposed,” you sigh, loosening your grip on his shirt.

He laughs weakly. “Would that have changed anything?”

It would have changed everything.

“What do you think, Bradshaw?”

And as he takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger, his expression flooded with determination and unabashed affection, your heart skips a beat.

“I think I should have done this a long time ago,” he murmurs, leaning in and pressing his lips to yours.

#bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #top gun: maverick fanfiction #top gun: maverick #miles teller fanfiction

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tongue-like-a-razor · 2 years

Text

Altitude - Chapter 4

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x F!OC

Pete "Maverick" Mitchell x F!OC

CW: Love triangle, angst, marital conflict, slow burn

Start from the beginning: Part I

Sydney looks over to the baby grand near the bar, craning her neck to get a good look at Bradley as a crowd forms around him when he starts to sing. She gapes at him in awe as the music brings him out of his shell.

“Oh god,” she says under her breath. “Are you telling me that that’s Brad Bradshaw?”

Jake is watching her with a confused expression. “I thought you said you knew him.”

Sydney shakes her head slowly. “Not for a long time,” she says quietly.

She takes a step forward while Jake continues eyeing her wearily. Unhurriedly, she makes her way toward the piano, winding through the lively officers who have joined in song, until she’s standing by Natasha right at the bench. Bradley looks over at her and cracks a smile as he sings.

Sydney is too shocked to return the gesture. Instead, she stares at him in wonder; at the ease with which his fingers travel along the keys; at his beaming face, at the sunglasses obscuring his eyes. His energy is catching and the entire bar is singing along with him. His confidence is sexy as hell and Sydney finds herself entranced by his performance.

When the song is over, he rises from the bench, grinning at her.

She doesn’t find his unflappable attitude amusing. In fact, it irritates her. “Why didn’t you tell me?” she says as the throng of people cheers around them.

“Tell you what?” he shouts over the crowd.

She watches him intently. “That you’re Goose’s son.”

Bradley’s grin falters and he immediately looks away. “Didn’t come up,” he responds.

She glances down at the Hawaiian shirt he’s wearing over his white tee. “You should’ve said something.”

Bradley’s gaze flits back to her face. “Why?”

Natasha, who is standing right next to Sydney, eyes her with furrowed brows. Then, she glances questioningly at Bradley.

Sydney shrugs. “So, that’s why you don’t like my father.”

“Trust me, your father has plenty of unlikeable qualities,” he says tersely.

She tries to maintain a neutral expression while her stomach does a sickening flip. “Yeah,” she finally agrees, searching his face for more, although his features are drawn and his eyes are blank.

He watches her levelly. “I’ve got an early morning,” he says after several moments of silence. “You need a ride home?”

Sydney shakes her head, breaking eye contact. “I’m going to stick around for a bit,” she says.

He nods, his jaw set. “Have a good time,” he says.

“I intend to,” she responds.

He lowers his gaze, still nodding. “I’ll see you around,” he says. Then he steps around the two girls, giving Natasha a quick nod before heading for the door.

…

“Either you’re incredibly smart or we’re incredibly boring,” Jake says, sitting down at the desk beside Sydney’s, eyeing the stacks of textbooks on the surrounding tables.

Sydney lifts her eyes with a small smile. Behind Jake’s head, she can see two Super Hornets zoom over the airfield, one after another. “Can’t it be both?” she asks.

He laughs and his voice echoes around the hangar. He tilts his head to read the spine of one of the books. “Advanced Experimental Design,” he remarks. “Hot.”

She chuckles. “Well, it’s no dogfighting.”

“So, you’re a scientist.”

“I will be.”

He studies her face with a grin. “I had fun with you last night.”

Sydney purses her lips. “Does that surprise you?”

“No,” he replies. “But I thought I’d comment on it anyway.”

She smiles at him just as Bradley enters near the back. Jake eyes him slyly as he makes his way through the hangar toward them.

“Is he bothering you?” Bradley asks Sydney impassively.

Jake rolls his eyes as Sydney glances up at Bradley. Their eyes meet briefly before Sydney lowers her gaze. “We’re fine,” she says.

Bradley nods, giving Jake a hostile look. “We’re up, Hangman,” he says, adjusting his chute bag.

Jake rises from his seat. “Perfect,” he says, smirking down at Sydney. “You’ll get to see me in action. The other kind of action,” he adds, winking.

Bradley’s flat gaze follows Jake as he makes his way outside. “How are you?” he asks once Jake is out of earshot.

Sydney looks back up at him. “Great,” she responds sarcastically. “My father’s made me join him on base today because apparently he’s got some sort of activity planned for you guys that he thinks I might enjoy.”

Bradley’s mouth curls into a small, lopsided grin. “He is persistent, I’ll give him that.”

Sydney sighs. “Yeah,” she replies tartly. “It’s not always a good thing.”

Bradley takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, watching her flip through her textbook. “For what it’s worth,” he says. “It was a pleasure to meet you – again,” he adds.

Sydney lifts her eyes. “I think it was the mustache,” she says thoughtfully. “Why I didn’t recognize you.”

He chuckles. “Well, I think a lot more than that has changed since I was ten.”

She nods, trying to remember the last time she saw Bradley Bradshaw. She was four, so the memory is foggy at best.

He played a lot of video games, swore like a sailor, and kept a stash of chocolate bars under his bed. He’d never let her touch the controller because her parents had told him that she was too young to play, but on the day her parents had announced their split, he taught her anyway and, while she was trying her hand at Donkey Kong through the blurred vision of her teary eyes, he’d brought out all his chocolate and laid it on the bed beside her. That was the last time she’d seen him – until a few days ago when they met at the club.

“I heard about your mom,” she says. “I’m sorry.”

He pulls his lips into a tense frown. “Thanks.”

Sydney looks over his shoulder at Jake who is watching their conversation from a distance. “I guess I’ll get to see you fly today,” she says.

Bradley’s expression softens and he smirks. “Are you going to be watching?”

Sydney shrugs. “Nothing better to do.”

Bradley eyes the textbooks spread out over several desks with raised brows. “In that case, you’re in for a treat.”

Sydney chuckles. “Looking forward to it, Brad Bradshaw.”

He smiles. “Kind of rolls off the tongue, doesn’t it?”

Sydney narrows her eyes. “Are you thinking about my tongue, Brad Bradshaw?”

Bradley laughs. “Now I am.” Sydney brings her head down into her palm, unable to conceal her smile. She blinks up at him in amusement and he shakes his head, starting to walk away. “You’re going to make me late for the hop and your father will be furious with me.”

Sydney bites the side of her lip. “Now that would be a spectacle.”

He laughs heartily and lifts his hand to indicate his departure.

Sydney waves at him with a couple of fingers, pressing her hand against her mouth to cover her persistent grin. “I’ll see you around, Brad Bradshaw,” she says under her breath.

Read Chapter 5

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tarohemianrocketmanapsody · 2 years

Text

Homeward Bound // Somewhere Only We Know - Prologue

Prologue.

The Hard Deck had always seemed rather infinite to her. It saw generations of men and women, mostly touched by the Navy in one way or another, pass through. Families have come and gone, some had even been started because of the bar. It was there before her and she had hopes it would be there after her too. She had always marveled at it’s novel-esque meaning to her life, and how like the pages of a well worn book she somehow experienced every high and low of her life in this bar. She had seen friends come home, and she had mourned those who hadn’t. Now, she was just thankful for the part she got to play in the bar’s story.

She had left Miramar as a bright eyed teen intent on forging her own path. She had seen the heartbreak Top Gun had left on her family in more ways than one. Her mother Penny, caught in a vicious loop with a man who always seemed destined to leave. Her Uncle Ice who had used the school to raise through the ranks, just to be brought to his knees by something as mundane as cancer. Her Uncle Maverick seemingly doomed to a solitary life after losing all of his wingmen and his penchant for pissing people off. The fuzzy memories of her Uncle Goose who perhaps had been the biggest loss of all. If not for himself, for her Aunt Carole who never recovered and died all of a broken heart all of those years later. And, perhaps, the most painful of them all, Rooster, or Bradley as she still allowed herself to call him in the deep recesses of her mind. Her first love, her seemingly only love, who had been stolen away from her just like the rest of them, signing himself away to the life of a military vagabond, an overly confident never there military pilot who left dust, and her, behind. That was a pain she did not allow herself to ruminate on, otherwise she could not have come back at all. It was staggering at times, and could bring her to her knees if she let it.

However, for every loss, there was life and love and happiness this place brought. There was her best friend, and likely her platonic soulmate, Jake Seresin, known more fondly around here as Hangman (which she loved to tease him mercilessly with). This place brought him to her and he has fought to never leave her since, whether physically or in spirit. These open desert roads and beaches and mountains became their refuge as they shared life together, understanding each other in a way most never could. He was always with her, whether they together or apart permitting whatever military detail her dear friend was shipped out on. He was her favorite phone all and her closest confidant. And, at times, he was something more when they both needed it. There was her mother Penny, her beautiful, smart, melancholy mother. Who, while admittedly seemed to have a knack for always picking men who left, was always present and filled her childhood with happy memories on the water and behind the bar. Her laughter was always a welcome sound and her smile was enough to make her day and soothe her wounds still to this day, something she never took for granted because one thing Miramar had taught her is you never know the last time you’ll see it. There was the Navy, and while albeit she held some resentment for the part it played in keeping her makeshift family apart over the years, and gave them blame for the losses that had forever changed them, she knew there was always a home for her and people to run to if she needed, a comfort she dearly missed when she had galavanted away with no intention of coming back. And, okay, she could admit to herself as she cleaned glasses and prepared for the opening of what was bound to be another busy night with new recruits and old veterans and everything in between, while Rooster was a loss he was also one of the best things that Miramar had brought her.

He was… everything to her. The sun and the moon and the stars and every fond memory she had of this place always seemed to feature him in one way or another. His smile lit up her world and for a time he was the axis on which her earth rotated. If she was truly honest, he still was, even 6 years and what seemed a lifetime later with no communication. They grew up together, and on the beaches watched by Ice and Maverick and Penny and Carole, they truly merged together to create a beautiful bond, two sides of the same coin. They just… went through life together. For a time, it seemed like neither the Heaven could shift or Hell could open up to divide them. He often joked to her in the hot summer nights spent reading under moonlight on the beach (after they snuck out of course), that they were Healthcliff and Catherine.

“He’s more myself than I am,” Bradley would read to her, his hands running through her hair while her head rested on his leg, “whatever our souls are made of, hers and mine are the same.” She would laugh and swat his hand away, but would then intertwine their fingers together again all the same. “Yes,” she would say, gazing up at him like he himself hung the stars in the sky, “but they were doomed to live apart, two halves separated by time and outside forces and a rather measly tract of land, not exactly a model to live up to.” He would roll them over until he was on top of her, gazing down at her like she was the only thing that existed in this world (at least, that’s how she liked to romanticize it in her head), and would say, “True, but it’s the premise of the thing. We have the platform, we just have to make it our own. We’re not as dumb as them or confined by antiquated marriage rituals. We have all of the time in the world to learn from the mistakes of old ass lovers. We’re making our own story baby.” Of course, he would always follow up a romantic declaration like that with something like, “in addition to making a movie of our own”, followed by eyebrow raising and a gesturing of his hips and her laughs just seemed to echo timelessly over their beach. Because wow, how he could make her laugh. That was the fun part of it all. But the fire, dear god the fire. She had to close her eyes sometimes, and run it all through her head because it just didn’t seem real. When childhood friends aged into something more, became something more. When they discovered their own bodies and each other’s and how they seemed to be made to respond to their touches and theirs alone. If she focused really hard she could almost feel the power games they played and the ways they learned how to seduce and coax each other, young kids mad for each other and dabbling in things they didn’t even quite understand yet. And hell if that didn’t explain what she had dubbed the Great Rift. Because while there was fire, on top of the given love and devotion they had been giving and receiving from each other their entire lives, there were also sparks. Sparks that, while managed properly could create something beautiful, seemed all but catastrophic in the hands of young kids who did not understand the immensity of what they had between them. It was too much, too soon, too fast. They had one of those storybook loves that everyone yearned for, but they were also kids who had dreams. Dreams that opposed each other. She wanted to escape from the lives their parents had, get away from the melancholy and the empty looks and the loss. He wanted nothing more than to emulate his family and follow in their footsteps. And that had inevitably broken them apart and been the final nail in the coffin that sent her packing while he fought for, and eventually earned (she knew because she kept tabs, had to), his place at Top Gun. She hadn’t returned for 6 years in an attempt to rid his grip over her life. It didn’t work, but it did give her time to find herself, standing on her own for once in her life, and figure out what she wanted independently of everyone else. Crazily, and almost inevitably, it seemed that what she wanted most was a business degree and to eventually end up right back where she started, in the bosom of the Hard Deck. She told herself Bradley had nothing to do with it. She just didn’t look in the mirror while she did, because she knew what she looked like lying and she didn’t need that on her conscience. She preferred to live in peace.

Now, she was home, and home was this warm and worn bar where she was happiest behind the counter greeting old and new friends, standing next to her mom. Happiness was finally having her Jake back, standing in the bar and always having a close eye on her as he schmoozed and teased his fellow comrades, toeing the line between charming and conceited very well. Happiness was having half ownership of the bar after all of this time and finally allowing her mom to have a day off every now and again. And, happiness now seemed to be getting to watch her mom fall in love all over again as her wayward Maverick once more jaunted back into her life with a well meaning smile and fire dancing behind his aviators. It was all almost as it was before, and she was almost content.

Almost.

But life, and certainly the Hard Deck in all of its infinite dramatics, never did halves or almost’s.

That was why, after six years of every diversion possible, and lying to herself and everyone around her, fate brought Bradley Bradshaw back through the doors of her bar. There was nothing halfway about the feelings that shot through her body at his entrance.

She hoped Uncle Goose and Aunt Carole were at least having a laugh on her behalf while watching all of the chaos and destruction that fate decided to bring into her bar in the form of their son, a 6 foot tanned Adonis who looked to have the Devil’s intentions in mind. The poetic Gods who seemed to place the magic in her bar that brought people together over time and torture were definitely having a fucking ball right now.

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I didn’t see enough Rooster fan fictions so I had to dabble myself. The intent is to create a multi chapter VERY smutty gift for us all, as this character is all that has been occupying my thoughts since I saw the movie (twice now), but we’ll see how it plays out and how you guys like it. This is just essentially the prologue setting it up and giving some history to our couple, but smut is never too far off of the horizon where any of my fics are concerned. Enjoy! And let me know any title recommendations that strike your fancy.

AN: This was written @ 2am when I couldn’t sleep and Miles Teller kept dancing around in my head. It went straight from my notes app to tumblr with no editing so please be kind :) enjoy !

#bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster x reader #rooster x you #top gun #jake hangman seresin #miles teller fanfiction #miles teller #top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw

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