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withahappyrefrain · 6 months

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Somebody to Love

Summary: Attending a cookout hosted by Penny seemed like the perfect way to kickstart summer. Meeting and falling in love there wasn't on yours or Bradley's bingo list.

Warnings: Language, Bradley being a loverboy, female reader

For @roosterforme's Rocktober event! I'm so sorry it took so long and hope you enjoy it!

The first time you saw Bradley was at the Hard Deck.

He completely missed you, as much as it pains him to admit.

In his defense, his eyes were on the ivory keys of the piano, only looking up briefly to revel in the cheers from guests of the Hard Deck as he played.

You, in his defense, were just trying to get in and out. Considering it was barely seven, you thought you were coming in before things got rowdy.

You were mistaken.

The show he was putting on was nice to watch while you waited for Penny to be free. But that's all it was, a show. And after a while, you couldn't help but scoff. Was being in the Navy not enough attention?

The smile on Penny's face when her eyes met yours was worth the wait. You pulled out the coveted book from your bag, raising it in the air as if it were the golden ticket.

"Amelia is going to be so excited," Penny beamed as she took the book from you, "She's been talking about it for weeks!"

The mention of your former student brought a smile to your face.

Amelia was a student during your first year of teaching. You felt a kinship to the young girl, whose parents were going through a divorce at the time. You also saw that her love of reading was untapped, blocked by years of past teachers failing to help her learn how to read.

So you worked with her the whole year, and the summer after that, helping the girl catch up. One summer, Penny offered a bartender job when she heard you were looking for extra money. Over time, the Benjamin women had become more like family than your own.

It's why you stayed in touch. Why you took on extra shifts occasionally during the school year, when Penny truly needed help at the last minute. Why you made the trip out to the Hard Deck simply to give a book.

"Stay for a drink? It's on the house," Penny held up an empty glass, hoping the way it gleamed in the light could entice you into staying.

But you looked around, taking in how many people were there, how loud it was. How the man wearing aviators and a Hawaiian shirt was feeding the crowd with the piano rendition of a song that sounded familiar.

And simply shook your head.

"Should get going, it is a school night." The truth was, you'd rather be at home, in your bed reading than staying out late with a bunch of pilots.

Before you could say goodbye, Penny placed a hand on yours.

"Before you go Birdie, I wanted to let you know that we're celebrating Amelia's middle school graduation two weeks from Saturday. We'd love to have you there."

You smiled, sincerely flattered that they would want you present for such an event, "I'd love to. Will your man of the hour be there?"

A giggle escaped from you when you saw Penny's cheeks begin to turn pink.

Bradley swears if he had looked over at that moment, he wouldn't have let you leave the Hard Deck that night.

—------------------------

Bradley Bradshaw was not anti-romance, despite what his friends claimed, despite the numerous times he's turned down someone wanting to set him up.

The idea of romance did appeal to him. The idea of spending the rest of his life with one person, who loved him and wanted to grow a family with him, was very appealing in theory.

He wasn't against it at all. Just cautious.

Cautious as he witnessed first hand how dangerous his job was, how it tore families apart. Hesitant because he grew up with the aftermath- the support groups, the sympathetic looks, the empty dining chair that served as a loud, always present reminder of what he and his mother had lost.

He had been on dates, had been in relationships. They never went anywhere and Bradley was fine with that. The possibility that he may not come back from his deployments lingered in his mind, as did the image of someone receiving a flag and maybe his dog tags.

Why put someone through that?

“It's hard, but I wouldn't change a thing about it. You'll understand when it happens to you.”

His mother’s words rang in his ears. He knew she meant well. Bradley knew those words were true for her.

But he couldn't see them being true for himself.

So he came to Amelia’s graduation party with a vegetable tray and no date, despite Penny’s insistence that he could bring someone.

It's why Bradley walked straight past the kitchen, ignoring the unfamiliar voices. It's why he kept to the people he knew, rather than mingle with strangers.

And that was fine, enjoyable even. Things were going the way they always went, the way Bradley wanted it.

Consistent.

Bradley Bradshaw lived for consistency. Each morning, he'd get up and go to work. Work hard until his bones ache. Spend time with friends and the makeshift family he had found. Go to bed alone. Rinse and repeat.

Consistent.

Everything was just fine, until Bradley felt a hand grip his shoulder. When he turned around, he found Jake and his fiancé, Danica (or Venus, as everyone called her), looking at him.

“Your future wife is in the kitchen. Get in there.”

—-------------------------------

Bob saw her first.

It was hard to miss the sound of classic rock blaring from her red Subaru.

The sounds of eighties rock was a nice change from the Jerry Lewis and Sinatra music Bradley insisted on playing.

Even nicer was her voice. Sweet, smooth, light.

She was clearly in her own world, unaware she had an audience.

Nor would she. Bob knew better than anyone the pains of people walking in on him. So he quietly got out of his car, leaving her to finish the song by herself.

Reuben was the first one to speak to her.

Or rather, his daughter was.

Ava, always determined to explore, ran into the kitchen as soon as he set her on the ground.

It was easy to find her. Despite being only two, Ava had quite the voice on her.

Given her shouts about cookies, Reuben wasn’t surprised when he found his daughter in the kitchen, pointing excitedly to a plate of sugar cookies.

He was a little surprised to see that the person kneeling down to talk to her wasn’t Penny, but rather a woman he had never seen before.

“Is it okay if I give her a cookie?” She asked, motioning to the sugar cookie she was holding in her hand.

“As long as you're able to cut her off after two,” Reuben chuckled, “I'm warning you now, she can be hard to convince.”

You smiled, the corners of your eyes crinkling, the bridge of your nose scrunching up as you looked at Ava, “It'll be tough, but I think I can manage.”

Javy was the first one to try to include her in the picnic festivities.

“Hey, don't tell them this is what we’re calling them, but we’re playing beer pong against the old timers in the basement. You in?” He asked.

“Oh I'm good, but don't worry, your secret is safe with me,” She said with a gentle smile and a wink.

It was the fact that she sounded assured, content to stay in the kitchen and continue making small talk with some of the wives, away from the hubbub of the picnic, that made him not push.

Natasha was the first one to have an actual conversation with her.

In a sea full of testosterone, it was hard not to notice another woman. Especially one who looked around her age.

“So how do you know Penny?” You looked rather surprised by Nat’s question, surprised that another person had noticed you in the kitchen and decided to converse.

“Oh, I'm, well, I was Amelia’s third grade teacher. I tutored her for a couple of summers and have helped Penny bartend when she needs extra help,” you explained.

Natasha recalls Penny mentioning you a few times, now able to put a face to the name.

“So you're the teacher! Penny said we might see you at the Hard Deck this summer,” Nat grinned, hoping it would help her feel more at ease.

“I am! I'm still figuring out how exactly I want to spend my summer. First time I won't be doing summer school or tutoring,” you explained, continuing to wash the dishes that had begun to pile up on the counter.

“Any travel plans? Or family you plan to visit?” Nat asked.

You shook your head, eyes appearing dismal for a brief moment, “I don't have much family to visit. But I have been meaning to explore the area more, so I might do that.”

Natasha knew not to press. You didn't owe her any further explanation.

But out of all people, Jake Seresin was the one to make the connection.

“I’m sorry, but what did Penny just call you?” He asked, jamming a finger up his ear to clean it out, convinced he heard it wrong.

“Oh, Birdie!” you explained, flustered, “It’s um….it’s always been a nickname that friends and family have called me, ever since I was a kid. When I told Penny, she started calling me that too.”

Jake recalls the other details he's learned; a love of classic rock, vintage clothes and children, how your face lit up when someone spoke to you, as though you had been waiting an awfully long time to be noticed, to be acknowledged.

Your nickname.

It hits Jake like a fucking freight train.

“Excuse me, I have to go uh, um, find my wife,” he said abruptly, practically running out of the kitchen.

Jake quickly found his Venus, tapping her on the shoulder as he ignored the death glare Phoenix was giving him for interrupting.

“What is-”

“Birdie. Her nickname is Birdie.”

Danica’s amber-glazed eyes widened as she shot Natasha a knowing look.

“Where is she?”

Which is how Bradley Bradshaw found himself being dragged away from the grill and into Penny's house.

After all, Bradley didn't have too much common sense. He would insist he was alright, despite losing his beat as he watched his close friends fall in love and get married.

So they were just helping, helping him find somebody to love.

“Y'all are being ridiculous, just because she likes the same music-”

“It's more than that. You just need to see for yourself,” Jake explained, pushing him towards the kitchen. Inside, a sweet voice was talking.

“Peekaboo! I see you!” He could hear a big smile through your voice, “Now it's Ava’s turn!”

Bradley turned the corner to find you sitting cross legged on the kitchen floor, enabling you to be somewhat closer to eye level with Ava. You and the little toddler were both full of giggles as you continued your game.

Ava’s small hands flew up to her face, covering her eyes. It was an adorable sight, how she was trying to say the words. A bright smile adorned your face, eyes shining as you played with her.

“Where did Ava go?” You asked, pretending to look, “There she is!”

A warmth flooded Bradley’s heart as he watched this mysterious woman interact with Ava. It felt familiar,childhood memories of his mom flooding back. But this time, instead of feeling sorrow, a pleasantness surrounded him.

Strange.

Ava babbled, causing you to giggle once more.

“My name is Birdie. Can you say Birdie?”

Oh.

So that was why everyone thought this was his future wife.

It was a cute coincidence, nothing more. Yes, it was beyond endearing to watch you interact with Ava, you were obviously great with kids.

“Roo!” Ava’s coos of her special nickname for Bradley broke him out of his thoughts.

“What's a Roo?” You asked, your eyebrows knitted together in confusion. The puzzled look on your face was adorable.

“That would be me. Hey Ava girl,” Bradley kneeled down, his arms open wide, allowing Ava to run over and hug him.

You instantly recognized him thanks to the memorable mustache. But his smile and eyes were much softer now. His whole demeanor is less cocky and more approachable in Penny’s kitchen.

Bradley scooped the young toddler into his arms, grinning as Ava giggled.

“You being good? Trying to persuade people to give you more cookies by being adorable?” Bradley asked the toddler.

“I'm holding out strong. Don't want her dad to hate me for giving her a sugar rush,” You explained, a soft smile on your face as you watched him interact with Ava.

“See, the key is to make sure the sugar rush happens when he takes her home,” Bradley grinned, “That way he can't do anything about it.”

“I'm sure he can ask around regarding who gave her all that sugar though,” you retorted, facing the sink again to continue the dishes.

“See, that's where you have the advantage; you're not in the group chat,” Bradley balanced Ava on a hip, walking over to the sink to join you.

You were fun to talk to; able to hold your own with a soft, yet slightly mischievous smile adorning your face.

“I'm Bradley,” he explained, the spirit of his mother probably screaming that it took him this long to introduce himself.

“I take that's your actual name, considering that's way too normal to be your callsign,” normally you wouldn't tease a complete stranger like this. But he was easy to talk to and it helped that he was holding an adorable baby like a complete natural.

“It is. My callsign is Rooster.” The information caused your hands to still.

“Rooster?” It was too wild to be a coincidence.

“Yeah, when I was part of my first squadron, I was always the first one to be up. But I also had a tendency to be well, louder than what they would have preferred, which is how I got my callsign Rooster.” Bradley smiled as he recalled the loud complaints of his squadron, which always seemed to die down once they learned he was making breakfast.

“I, love that. Sorry, I, it's funny your callsign is that. Because it's like a nickname right? My nickname is Birdie,” your speech quickened as you realized you were rambling, “I know that nicknames aren't the same as callsigns. Well, in a way they are, they're both given to you for a reason, right? It's just funny how our nicknames are both-”

“Excuse me?” You looked up to see your savior came in the form of a bespectacled man who was standing by the door.

“I was threat-I mean, told by Danica and Phoenix that I needed to get Ava,” The man said, walking over to Bradley.

“Bo!” Ava exclaimed, reaching for the man.

“Sure thing Bob,” Bradley said, hanging over the toddler to his friend, unable to stop himself from rolling his eyes at his friends’ schemes.

“C'mon Ava, let's leave the two soon to be lovebirds alone,” Bob whispered, out of the room before Bradley could say anything.

“Did he just… “

Bradley sighed, “Gotta watch out for that one. He's quiet but can be cheeky when he wants to be.”

“As opposed to the others, who are just outright cheeky?” You asked.

Bradley chuckled, “You're catching on. Here, I can dry while you wash?”

He could be spending time with his squadron. Could be spending time joking with Mav’s old squad, making jokes and talking about the past that he was too young to remember. Could be anywhere but here in the kitchen, helping you do dishes.

And yet, he didn't mind it at all. Bradley was finding himself enjoying his conversation with you, despite knowing it would earn him several eye rolls and shoulder shoves from Danica and Jake.

You were surprised he was still here, that he hadn't found an excuse to leave.

It was a nice change.

“So you're the teacher Penny talks about?”

You laughed, “Is that who I'm known as? You're like the third person to ask me that.”

“Just shows how big of an impact you had.” Your cheeks warmed at the praise.

“You know, you just try your best. Make sure to listen. Helps that I'm also a child of divorce, you know? Had a lot of pointers,” you shrugged, but it was clear you were downplaying your efforts.

“Have you always wanted to be a teacher?” Bradley asked, wanting to keep the conversation going, despite the dishes being done.

You took your hands out of your pockets, fidgeting with the hem of your dress. Your shoulders shrug as a small smile spreads across your lips.

“Yeah. I love helping folks, especially kids. I was a camp counselor all throughout high school and I just….felt at home when I was helping other people,” you explained.

You leaned forward, the scent of jasmine flooding Bradley’s nostrils.

“It makes sense that I became a teacher. But if you asked me as a kid what I wanted to do as a grown up, I wouldn't have said teaching.”

Bradley leaned forward. With the sunlight hitting him, you could now see the lighter shades of brown that adorned his curls.

“A mom. I’ve always wanted to be a mom.”

“You'll understand when it happens to you.”

Oh. Okay.

That's when Bradley Bradley finally gets it. Because he's imagining life with you; moving in together, getting married, having kids. The risk is still there. But he'd rather live with that risk and you than not at all.

“I know that's silly, but it's true. I mean, it's not even an occupation-”

“I said I wanted to be a dad when I grew up.”

Your eyes light up at his admission, feeling at ease and less like a rambling burden.

“You must have had a really great Dad then.” There was a flash of sorrow in his eyes at the mention of his father.

“From what I remember. I was only four when he died, but….from what I remember, he was great,” his voice was softer now, his eyes showing he was in another place.

You inched closer to him, “I'm really sorry, I'm sure that was hard for you and your mom.”

“It wasn't easy. But she always said she wouldn't change anything. Never really understood that until recently.” His shoulder is touching yours, his long fingers inches away from your thighs. You were hyper aware of the closeness, unsure if moving away would be proper or offensive.

“Something helped you have that revelation?”

“Moreso someone.”

It's impossible to not notice the way his stare lingers on you, how his smile is warm and those whisky eyes are shining bright as he sends a wink your way. It makes your heart flutter; no one has ever looked at you that way before.

Nerves begin to overtake your brain, causing you to look away from his intense gaze.

“Should we um, get back to the picnic?” You all but mumbled. There's no desire to leave him, but you don't want to get your hopes up.

“Can I at least get your number before we do that?” Bradley asks, eagerly getting out his phone.

Bradley Bradshaw hates accidents, except for the one that led him to this kitchen, to you.

His forwardness is uncharted territory. There's no wondering or second guessing; Bradley wants to stay in touch, wants to keep talking to you.

It's nice. It's unfamiliar. It's exciting. It's sending your doubts and anxiety into a tailspin.

Your fingers fumble for your phone, opening up a new contact for him to fill out. His fingers brush against yours when he hands you his phone, little sparks flying up your spine.

Bradley simply smiles when your eyes look at the screen of his phone. Your brows knit together in confusion, the bridge of your nose scrunching up as you read over the words again and again, eyes surely playing tricks on you.

“Um, I think you made a mistake Bradley?” you hold up his phone, “The name for this contact is Mrs. Bradshaw?” It also has a heart emoji next to it, but that wasn't worth mentioning.

“Oh, it's no mistake,” Bradley grins.

The only sound you can let out is a confused huh.

“You just gotta put your number right there, and then you're all set.” Bradley points to it, an assured smile remaining on his face.

“Are you….are you going to change the name?” You asked, dumbfounded.

Bradley shrugs, “Nah. I'll know it's you. But I can put the word ‘future’ in parentheses if you want it to be more accurate.”

Your fingers have a mind of their own, typing in those desired ten numbers. Bradley takes his phone from your hands but not before placing a gentle kiss on your burning cheek.

His lips feel soft, the hairs of his mustache gently tickling your skin. When you turn your head, your lips are now inches away from yours.

You try to ground yourself, try to look away from his lips, try to ignore the warm, fuzzy feeling that's overtaking your body.

“Sorry Birdie, but I'm old fashioned. First kiss shouldn't be until the first date,” He winks.

What floors you more, his confidence or his bold desire for you?

Raising an eyebrow, you ask, “And when will that be?”

Bradley chuckles, “Whenever you want Birdie.”

He can't be serious. But what would he gain from leading you on, other than Penny’s wrath?

You straighten your shoulders, trying to hold your own against his large frame.

“Tomorrow at six,” You muster up all the confidence you can, preparing yourself for him to drop the act.

“Done. Do you prefer Italian or French?”

“Neither as I'm lactose intolerant.” This was it. Was he going to stop the act, once he knew it would require more effort.

“How do you feel about Thai? I know a great spot. Never been but it's been praised by Jake and Danica and let me tell you, that woman does not give out praise easily.”

You giggled, “I could tell. By the way, is there a reason he calls her Venus?”

“Short version; he's obsessed with her. Been that way since they met in the parking lot of a coffee shop. You should ask them how they met; they give different answers and it's hilarious,” Bradley explains, a gleam in his eyes as he thinks about one of his favorite couples.

“I'd like that. But if you go with me,” you asked, “Kinda random to just walk up to a couple you don't know and ask how they met.”

Again, you expect Bradley to falter. He's clearly more outgoing than you, so why would he want someone whose first instinct wasn't to strike up a conversation with strangers?

“I will, but only if you confirm we’re on for Thai tomorrow at six.”

Surely, he couldn't be serious. But that sweet smile and shining brown eyes said otherwise.

“You really gonna take me out?” you crossed your arms over your chest.

“Of course! I mean, I'm more than happy to take you out tonight, but you said tomorrow, so I'm sticking to it. Plus, it gives me time to get you flowers. Speaking of which, what are your favorite? You seem like a sunflower gal,” his eyes reminded you of an eager puppy, absolutely endearingly adorable.

“What makes you think that?” He was absolutely right, but you wouldn't let him know that yet.

Bradley shrugged, “When you smile, it reminds me of sunshine. Also, if it want to get technical, birds also like sunflower seeds.”

You couldn't help but throw your head back and laugh. Your laugh was sweet, bursting with joy. It calmed down Bradley’s racing heartbeat.

“And what should I get you, Rooster? Corn meal?”

His corniness almost made you forget that he literally compared you to the sun.

Almost.

His laugh was deep, bellowing deep from his stomach, making you feel warm all over.

“You kill me Mrs. Bradshaw, now let's go get you that story,” He gently takes your hand into his, entwining his fingers with yours.

The nickname makes you less confused and more certain Bradley would be sticking around.

#my writing #bradley bradsaw x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster x reader #bradley rooster x y/n #rooster x reader #rooster x you #rooster bradshaw #rooster top gun #bradley bradshaw fluff

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gloryofroses19 · 3 months

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Fly Me to the Moon

“I just don’t get it.” Lieutenant [y/n] was only partly lying, she could somewhat understand the appeal. However, she couldn’t have him know that the appeal was mostly him.

Shooting his passenger a handsome grin, Major John Egan effortlessly followed the bend to the Air Field. “Well I gotta show you some time.”

“Do you, though?” To the untrained eye, Bucky Egan’s driving seemed lackadaisical. Hands resting comfortably at 4 and 6 o’clock, aviator glasses covering his blue eyes, mouth chewing gum and sporting an easy smile, he seemed like a man of leisure. But those who were close to him, knew Major Bucky Egan as anything but careless about those close to him. The combination of his confidence, his steadfast leadership and devastatingly handsome looks in that fur lined jacket, she could begin to understand the attraction of flying.

It was enough to make her consider, in the lonely dead of night, about inquiring if she could become the first woman in the Air Force just to see him more, Hilter and those flying deathtraps be damned.

“Of course, there’s nothing like flyin. When I come back we’ll sneak you past Mother Matron Moore and past Kenny.” Waving to the working crewman as he parked, Bucky leaned in conspiratorially. “But we might have to ditch the truck though, wear good walking shoes too.”

Scrunching her nose up after Bucky finished his thought with a tap on her nose, [y/n] shook her head. “Don’t you get into enough trouble Major Egan?”

Chuckling as he rounded his way to her side of the truck, John held his hand out to help [y/n] out. “No, besides, it's why you like me, Lieutenant Goody-Two Shoes.”

“Oh that’s why? I guess I need to rethink my priorities”

Eyes crinkling happily as she had yet to release his hand from her delicate grip, John smiled. He would miss her when he was up in the cold dangerous sky. Her warmth, her mirth, the safety she provided him.

“Oh, are there other reasons?” He beams at [y/n], inching closer to watch the sunlight in her gaze. Major Bucky Egan didn’t need other’s praise. Sure, when Bubbles said he was a great fighter pilot or when Buck said he would follow him anywhere, it was nice to hear. But her praise? Hers was enough to fill his heart with a song he could sing forever and how Bucky Egan loved to sing…

Despite the retort bubbling on the tip of her tongue, [y/n] laughed. “Yes, but your ego is big enough. You don’t need me to inflate it more, otherwise how will your head fit in the cockpit Major?” Tilting her head to the side, [y/n] raises her eyebrows at him. Baiting him into asking for her praise, she had learned early on that he was so transparent around her. It was one of the things that enamored her, never shy, only careful. As if her attention and affection was something to earn and worship.

“Easy,” Mirroring her head tilt, John added lightly. “I'll just kick my copilot out. I’d even allow him a parachute.”

The loud shouts of the crew around her was a balm over the burning heat of his grasp and gaze, the reality of this situation reemerging. Removing her hand from his hold, she instead placed her palm on his chest, and not before noticing the flash of disappointment in the Major’s eyes.

“I’ll make you deal, every mission you come back I’ll tell you another reason I like you.”

He had never thought he was the type of man to get weak in the knees but her earnest proposal sure made him reconsider that. “Now that’s a reason to come back!”

“Now that’s a reason to stay in the air, don’t need your ego getting any bigger John!” Startling them out of their bubble, Major Buck Cleven slapped his best friend’s back.

Bucky knew he was living on borrowed time, the lead pilot couldn’t be late to the mission. So, with his final few seconds, he took the hand off his chest. After raising it to his lips, he brushed his lips against the smooth skin before wishing her farewell.

“Hey Fly Boy,” Raising her voice above the chatter of the crew, she flashed him a smile. “Bring me a souvenir!”

“You got it, Lieutenant!”

A/N: I appreciate any and all feedback! Hope you guys enjoy!

More Than You Know is an unofficial official sequel

#john egan x reader #bucky egan x reader #major john egan x reader #john egan x female reader #mota imagine #mota x reader #mota fanfic #john egan imagine

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thesewordsareallihavetogive · 2 years

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That's My Wife - Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x airline pilot!reader

Summary: 3.2k words. Rooster and his coworkers drew the short stick and ended up on a commercial civilian flight across the country for specialty flight training in Key West. A certain someone makes the flight and travel woes well worth the trouble for Bradley.

Warnings: none really, just tons of fluff! maybe some cursing & frequent usage of she/her pronouns for the reader

a/n: hi!! i posted a little snippet/preview of this fic last night and def did not expect it to get as much attention as it did. i'm so happy that so many of you were just as excited as me to see the finished product! i hope y'all enjoy it! <3

master list

An advanced specialty flight training at the Naval Air Station in Key West had the best aviators in the U.S. military flocking to the vibrant Florida island. This, of course, included Top Gun’s best graduates.

Rooster, Phoenix, and Hangman all had impressive reputations before the Uranium Plant mission led by Maverick. After that mission? They were nothing short of living legends in the Navy. So, naturally, they were among the pilots being sent out for the rigorous training.

The Navy couldn’t rationalize sending a private charter plane or wasting the fuel needed to transport just a few pilots to a base thousands of miles away, so the three aviators were sent on a commercial flight. Phoenix, Hangman, and Rooster got to experience the joys of civilian travel–long security lines through TSA, insufferably stressed-out travelers, and the overwhelming urge to get wasted at the bar conveniently located near their gate.

Hangman joked that if Rooster weren’t in uniform and instead wearing his typical Hawaiian shirts and jorts, he would’ve fit right in with the other passengers. Phoenix, who gave in and treated herself to a glass of wine, snorted before adding that Rooster was uptight enough then to blend in seamlessly.

Bradley would never admit it, but they were probably right. His one consolation was the smile his boarding pass brought to his face. The airline they were traveling with was familiar to Rooster to say the least.

The three aviators received priority boarding as active-duty military personnel. They sat at the very front of the cabin and Phoenix took the opportunity to people-watch as the rest of the passengers boarded. Hangman busied himself with looking into which Key West nightclubs and bars he could hit up after training while Rooster sent a quick text.

2:37 p.m. Hey, baby. Just boarded the flight to Key West. I’ll talk to you when we land 😘 – Brad

2:38 p.m. Have a safe flight, babe 😉💗 – y/n

Rooster chuckled at y/n’s use of a winking emoji before he turned his phone off and slipped it into his pocket. The flight attendants moved down the center aisle to begin their safety demonstration. Rooster was certain he’d sat through the same speech a thousand times, so he got comfortable and closed his eyes to take a nap.

A crackling from the plane’s speakers preceded what Rooster anticipated to be another relatively boring announcement.

“Good afternoon and welcome aboard, everyone. This is your Captain speaking,” an upbeat feminine voice floated through the aircraft’s speakers. Bradley’s eyes shot open wide and he sat up straight at the sound. He’d recognize that voice anywhere.

“No way…” he whispered to himself with a surprised smile.

Phoenix and Hangman shared a side-eye glance once they noticed the sudden change in Rooster’s demeanor. The man previously looked bored out of his mind and now he was hanging on to every word of the announcement. A wide grin spread across Rooster’s face while the pilot continued her introduction. As they taxied toward the runway, Hangman’s curiosity got the better of him.

“What is it, Bradshaw?” Jake asked with a raised brow. The bastard couldn’t help but be nosy. Phoenix softly elbowed Hangman in the ribs, but she certainly wasn’t tuning the conversation out. Rooster confidently squared his shoulders and turned to look at them.

“That’s my wife,” Rooster stated proudly, referring to the captain’s voice with a grin.

Hangman’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head and Phoenix leaned back with an impressed smile. Rooster’s fellow aviators knew he was married; hell, he wore his wedding ring like a badge of honor. He was quick to reject the frequent flirting he received and would simply raise his left ring finger whenever he was asked out at The Hard Deck–the man was nothing if not loyal. But Rooster was never the type to speak about his personal life at work, much less mention that his wife is also a pilot.

In fact, the only person Rooster worked with that knew anything about y/n was Maverick. Bradley introduced them to each other a few months after they started dating. The younger Navy man knew by the end of their second date that y/n was it for him. It took y/n a little longer to come to the same conclusion, but once she did she never looked back.

Actually, it was Maverick that helped y/n realize just how head-over-heels in love she was with Bradley. He brought y/n to meet his stand-in father figure at Mav’s hanger. In the middle of y/n and Maverick geeking out about all the memorabilia displayed in the hanger and trading flight stories, Rooster ran out to silence his Ford Bronco’s ancient and overly-sensitive car alarm. Pete took the opportunity to let y/n know just how whipped his godson was. “I haven’t seen him this happy in a long time, y/n. He’s bailed on our dinner plans at least three times in the past month just to get a chance to see you when you’re in the area.” Maverick smiled and clasped y/n’s shoulder. “You’re good for him. I hope he’s good for you too.”

And the rest was history. Just after their one year anniversary, Bradley got down on one knee in the middle of a crowded airport after they spent three full weeks apart. y/n flung herself into Bradley’s arms, foregoing the ring entirely and pressed her lips against his before she said “yes, yes, a thousand times yes.” Maverick was one of the few people at their wedding. It was small and intimate–just how y/n and Rooster liked it. Their relationship wasn’t a secret by any means, but they preferred things to be private.

Rooster returned from his trip down memory lane as y/n reached the end of her airline spiel. Her simultaneous light-hearted bubbly tone and professional manner had Bradley sporting a sweet smile.

“Before we take off, there’s an additional announcement I’d like to make.” Rooster perked up. y/n was going off-script. “A little birdie told me that some very special Navy aviators are on board with us today,” y/n’s voice came through the speakers, pride seeping into her tone.

Phoenix and Hangman exchanged amused smirks before staring right at Rooster. In a different scenario, the sudden attention focused on him might’ve made him uncomfortable, but he couldn’t care less right now. His wife, whom he hadn’t seen in over a week, was just steps away and he would be able to hold her in his arms again soon.

“Thank you for your service, lady and gents,” y/n finished sincerely. A polite applause filled the aircraft, bringing appreciative smiles to the aviators’ faces. Rooster wasn’t surprised that y/n somehow found out they were on her flight; he knew better than anyone that she was particularly skilled at getting what she wanted, evidently including private passenger information.

With their busy schedules and unpredictable jobs, y/n and Rooster would sometimes go weeks without seeing each other. y/n was gaining seniority in her airline, so she was able to pick and choose her flights sometimes–all of which she strategically planned to be able to visit her husband. When they were on opposite sides of the country, or even the world, it was harder to align their schedules for just a phone call.

A few nights ago, they had synced-up free time and they didn’t waste a minute. Despite the time zone differences, they talked on the phone for hours. Bradley told y/n about his upcoming week of specialty training at the Naval Air Station in Key West. Since there was no pressing mission or deployment, the Navy was opting to send Rooster and his coworkers on a commercial flight rather than coordinate Navy transport. y/n hummed and checked her schedule while they talked. Lo and behold, she would be piloting a flight from San Diego to Key West later that week. Specifically, Rooster’s flight.

y/n didn’t let on anything about their upcoming flight during the phone call, she wanted it to be a surprise. If there was anything being a commercial passenger pilot taught her, it was how to make sure no one suspected anything was wrong while she spoke into her headset mic. Once, she had to make an announcement to casually address turbulence despite her internal panic while she discreetly manually redistributed fuel between engines when the automatic fuel system failed on a cross-country flight.

The very next morning following Rooster and y/n’s phone call, she pulled a few strings at work and was able to glance at the passenger details for the upcoming direct SAN to EYW flight.

Seat 1D: Lt. Bradley Bradshaw

Seat 1E: Lt. Natasha Trace

Seat 1F: Lt. Jake Seresin

If any policies or procedures were violated in the process of y/n finding the answer to her burning question, no one batted an eye. After all, she was quite possibly the most beloved pilot in her airline. So, that’s how she found out exactly which of Rooster’s coworkers would be accompanying him.

As the plane sped down the runway, quickly gaining enough momentum for take-off, Bradley and y/n both fiddled with their wedding rings. It was a habit they’d developed independently, ironically enough.

y/n’s ascent into the air was smooth as always. Even the most nervous passengers appreciated the light-as-a-feather feeling settling over them as y/n gently reached cruising altitude. Rooster was no stranger to his wife’s expert precision and careful handling of her aircrafts. Phoenix and Hangman were thoroughly impressed by y/n’s skill and ease.

Once the fasten seatbelt lights were turned off, the flight attendants made their way down the center aisle of the plane with snack and beverage carts. Hangman didn’t hesitate to order a double shot of whiskey, earning him an incredulous look from both Rooster and Phoenix. ”What happens on this flight, stays on this flight,” he muttered, ignoring the sting in his throat after downing a third of the glass in one go. Phoenix shrugged and ordered herself another glass of wine. Rooster rolled his eyes at both of their antics. Before he could place his own order, the flight attendant addressed him directly.

“Lieutenant Bradshaw? Captain Bradshaw has requested to see you in the cockpit.” Rooster stood up without hesitation, a wide smile on his face. Hangman’s jaw dropped, a small huff escaping his mouth and Phoenix swatted his chest. Before making the short trek to the cockpit, he bought a bag of gummy worms from the snack cart.

He gently rapped his knuckles against the door before slipping inside and shutting the door behind him. y/n didn’t hear Bradley enter the cockpit over her headset, but she instantly recognized his warm cologne. She whipped around and smiled wide at him, taking her co-pilot by surprise. The co-pilot offered to take over and y/n gladly accepted the offer.

y/n typically didn’t haphazardly hop out of her seat while piloting a massive plane with over 200 passengers, but for Bradley, she’d make an exception. She all but threw herself into his arms, sending them both stumbling back a few steps. Rooster gently pulled y/n’s headset off, careful not to mess up her neatly styled hair, before capturing her lips in a searing kiss. y/n’s co-pilot pretended not to notice, but the embarrassed blush spreading across his cheeks gave him away. When y/n pulled away to catch her breath, Bradley pulled her closer and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“How’d you know we’d be on your flight?” he asked, brushing some hair away from his wife’s face.

“I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you,” y/n teased with a wink. Rooster was no stranger to y/n’s scheming, but it typically worked out to his advantage so he could live without knowing the details.

She all but did a happy dance at 34,000 feet in the air when Bradley pulled out the pack of gummy worms he hid in his pocket. y/n had admitted on more than one occasion she often got the munchies on longer flights with only stale peanuts to hold her over. She leaned against her husband’s chest and tore into the package of sugary goodness, offering a few gummy worms to her co-pilot in exchange for him swearing to secrecy.

The plane shuddered from a brief pocket of turbulence–one that y/n would’ve handled better, Rooster thought. Bradley braced himself against the wall and pulled y/n against his body to keep her from falling.

“Do you remember the first time we were in the cockpit of a plane together?” Rooster asked with a reminiscent smile. That first experience was undoubtedly more harrowing then the current one. y/n chuckled at the memory.

“I could never forget it, honey,” y/n smiled back, pressing a kiss to his cheek before offering him a gummy worm. The couple stood comfortable in silence for a few minutes, arms wrapped around each other. With the amount of time they spent apart, every moment they got together was precious. Even if they were simply holding each other in the cramped cockpit of an airplane.

y/n’s attention was pulled away from Bradley when a warning light lit up on the dashboard, accompanied by a shrill beeping. Her co-pilot turned back to her, silently signaling that she was needed back in the pilot seat. With a heavy sigh, she untangled herself from Bradley’s arms and pressed a final peck to his lips with a promised “I’ll see you later, baby.”

Rooster watched his wife climb in her well-deserved pilot seat and slip her headset back on. She switched back to her professional demeanor with an impressive ease as she worked to remedy the dash’s highlighted issue.

He wordlessly slipped out of the cockpit and back to his seat. Hangman, who was on the brink of tipsy after his strong whiskey, lost all sense of discretion as Rooster sat back down in his seat.

“Bradshaw, you sly dog. Was the Missus excited to see you?” Hangman poked, focusing on the lipstick print adorning Rooster’s cheek. Phoenix passed Rooster a napkin with a grin of her own. Bradley rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide his smile.

With just an hour left in the flight, y/n handed all the controls over to her co-pilot so she could stretch her legs. Lucky for her, her husband was seated just outside of the cockpit. Whoever booked the seats for the aviators knew what they were doing; Bradley Bradshaw was too tall for his own good, something y/n reminded him of frequently. Ironically enough, she never brought up that teasing point when she needed help reaching something around the house or when they went grocery shopping. The point is, being seated at the very front of the cabin gave Bradley sufficient room for his long legs.

y/n slipped out of the cockpit as inconspicuously as possible. She learned from past experience that passengers tended to freak out when they saw pilots, well, not piloting in the cockpit while the plane was airborne. y/n smiled softly as she took in the sight of her husband quietly snoring with his head leaned back against the chair and mouth wide open. She thought about taking a photo, but she was nearly positive Jake Seresin already had based on the devious grin on his face.

Phoenix noticed movement in the front of the cabin, her eyes eventually landing on a woman in a formal pilot uniform. Her face looked familiar. Phoenix was sure she’d seen her somewhere before. With a final squint, she realized the woman a few strides away was the same woman in all of Rooster’s locker polaroids. Mrs. Bradshaw in the flesh.

y/n offered a friendly smile to Phoenix, who seemed to have figured out who she was. Hangman was still focused on the picture he intended to eventually use for blackmail. Phoenix gently shook Rooster’s shoulder, stirring him from his nap. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes before his eyes settled on his wife.

“Good morning, Brad,” y/n cooed and reached out to grab his hand. He quickly checked his watch before pulling y/n in and kissing the back of her hand.

“Hi, baby,” he greeted with a glint in his eye. y/n chuckled, she knew he was holding himself back from calling her a smart ass while she was on the job. Hangman watched the interaction in awe. Not only did Bradshaw have a skilled pilot wife, but she was also gorgeous and witty? Jake briefly thought about asking Rooster for dating pointers.

The sleepy fog clouding Rooster’s brain cleared when he had three expectant sets of eyes on him, waiting for him to make introductions. He introduced Natasha and Jake first, citing their names and call signs, even though y/n already knew both from the stories her husband told.

“Phoenix, Hangman, this is Captain y/n Bradshaw, my wife,” Rooster finished with a warm smile. Man, he was whipped.

“Outranked by your wife, huh, Bradshaw?” Hangman jabbed harmlessly. The whiskey wore off a while ago, but Jake was always eager for an opportunity to poke fun at Rooster.

“Mmm, I outrank you as well, Lieutenant,” y/n smiled sweetly, responding without missing a beat. Phoenix chuckled and held out her hand to high-five y/n for her quick comeback. Jake was certain he heard Rooster mutter “that’s my girl,” as he looked up at his wife with a grin.

Rooster’s coworkers made small talk with y/n as she pulled her leg up behind her in a subtle stretch, using her husband’s hand to keep steady before switching sides and repeating the motion. In just the span of the few minutes y/n spent talking to Hangman and Phoenix, all of Bradley’s stories involving them made so much sense. When there was a brief lull in conversation, y/n checked her wristwatch, her eyes widening when she realized she’d been out for longer than expected.

“It was really nice to meet you guys, but I gotta get back in there,” y/n said apologetically. Hangman and Phoenix nodded in understanding, they were more than familiar with the painstaking pillar of time in aviation. Bradley gently squeezed y/n’s hand before she left, still trying to shake his nap-induced daze.

y/n turned on her heel just before reaching the cockpit door to face Bradley again.

“Are you free tonight?” y/n asked hopefully. The week-long training wasn’t scheduled to start until the following day, but she knew it wasn’t unlikely that the Navy would have Rooster busy in his spare time beforehand. His wife’s soft voice and wishful eyes were more than enough to have Bradley’s heart melting. Hell, he’d hand in his resignation as soon as the plane landed if it meant he could spend some time with y/n.

“For you? Always, baby,” Bradley smiled and winked at y/n. The captain grinned and slipped back into the cockpit, looking forward to being back on the ground with her husband.

a/n: did anyone notice the Top Gun (1986) reference 👀? anyways, i hope u liked it! pls lmk what you think, i love reading ur comments & reblogs! :)

also!! i have a bit of a prequel for how rooster & pilot!reader met in the works. i'll finish it up & post it if anyone is interested :)

#rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster imagine

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powerfultenderness · 11 months

Note

Ok but what if reader and konig were out for a coffee or something, and they run into Adrian! I don’t know if you meant for their breakup to be on good terms or not, that’s up to you, but I just want to see konig get all jelly.

Sorry this one is a little late! I couldn't decide which way to go. But I still love Adrian so I couldn't have him hurt lol! 😅

Sooo, I have König doing something else! Which means I'm dropping a (Mature 18+ rating on this!)

“Ah! Hide me!” you gasped and jumped behind König.

He stiffened, left hand flying behind him for a second as if to anchor you to him, but that was hardly needed as you were clinging to his back. “What! What is it?”

“It’s him!” You whispered sharply into König’s back. “My ex!”

“Where? Who?”

You didn’t even notice him clenching his fists and holding them down at his sides. “By that bench. Blue suit. Five-eleven.” König nodded, spotting the man.

“Cute dorky glasses.”

The guy he was looking at was wearing silver rimmed aviator glasses. Was that cute?

“Light green eyes.”

He nodded again, green eyes, yea he was definitely looking at the right guy.

“Pretty curly brown hair,” you continued, gripping König’s shirt even harder. “Ugh, absolutely stunning smile with dimples and dazzling teeth,” you sighed and sagged against König a bit, “and-”

“Ok.” König interrupted you, he already spotted the guy, he didn’t need you to keep talking about him. “Who is he with?”

“He’s with someone?” You gasped again and popped out from behind him to look.

“Oh!” You barely managed to squeak out before your lips started to tremble. “She’s so pretty.” Your voice fell as you tried not to cry.

The woman was just Adrian’s type. Tall, skinny blonde with killer legs, could very well be a Taylor Swift (his biggest celebrity crush) clone. You really shouldn’t be surprised that he moved on with such a beautiful woman.

König looked away from your ex to you, clinging to him with one hand, and clutching at the fabric above your heart with the other. Your eyes were shining with tears that you were desperately trying to hold back and you were biting your bottom lip so hard that soon you’d draw blood.

“You are prettier.”

You didn’t hear him. And even if you had, you probably wouldn’t have understood the German. You’d tilt your head all cutely and smile at him as you asked him to translate. But you didn’t hear him, and you didn’t ask him to translate. König growled to himself, he didn’t like the hold this guy seemed to have on you.

It wasn’t until he dropped a heavy hand on your shoulder did you snap out of whatever trance Adrain had over you. “Let’s go.” He needed to get your mind off of your ex (and preferably on him!).

“O-oh!” You looked up at him, eyes still brimming with unshed tears, “yea. Totally. My bad!” And the fake smile you gave him would fool no one.

As luck would have it, just as you turned around, someone shouted your name. You froze and König growled again. He turned to face Adrian first, startling the smaller man enough to get a quiet, “whoa!” out of him.

Even through his peripherals, he saw you quickly smoothing out your clothes and hair before you turned around too, this time your fake smile was much more convincing.

“Adrian! Hey,” you greeted the man, though remained firmly planted next to König.

Adrian smiled that dangerous smile. The one that made you fall for him in the first place and still had you blushing. He tried to step further into your space, arms spread for a hug, but König caught him by the shoulder and pushed him back.

“Hey, man! Not cool!” Adrian pointed a finger at König once he caught himself.

“Do not touch her.”

König’s cold tone and death glare had both you and Adrian glancing at him with concern. It isn’t until you reach out a tentative hand and touch his arm does he stop glaring at Adrian. “It’s fine, König.”

After taking a moment to glance between you and König, Adrian stepped back, he even braved tapping your free hand as he motioned for you to follow.

König growled, fists clenching and he nearly stormed after the other man. He told him not to touch you!

“It’s fine.” You repeated and gave his arm another pat for reassurance.

He resisted the urge to wrap his arms around and simply pull you away from your ex. But you followed him instead…

“What’s up?” You tried to sound unaffected.

Adrian looked behind you and frowned. “You really with that guy?”

“Yea. Why?”

You hadn’t moved so far that König could no longer hear, and when you so casually admitted that you were with him, well, he was somehow both smiling and glaring under his mask.

“I just wanted to say hi, but,” he eyed König again, “do you still have my number?”

Your brows furrowed as you shook your head. “No. I deleted it when we broke up. Why?”

Adrian reached inside his jacket and pulled out a business card and a pen. He scribbled his personal number on the back and handed it to you. “Here, take it. Just in case.”

You blinked, a pang of familiarity hitting you as you read his messy handwriting. “Just in case what? I need a lawyer?”

“No…” He sighed and nervously scratched the back of his neck. “I’ve just, seen this a few times. After a break up, women will date the first dangerous guy they meet and-”

“He’s not going to hurt me, Adrian! ” You yelled and threw his card back at him. You had aimed for his face, but the little card hit his chest instead.

“I’m just worried about you,” he sighed and tried to hand you the card again.

“He’s never even been mean to me, unlike you!”

“What! I was never mean to you!”

“You broke my heart!”

Adrian stopped, he looked so taken aback with his mouth hanging open and eyes nearly as wide as his lenses.

You sighed as he struggled, and failed, to think of a response. “Goodbye, Adrian.” That actually felt good, as there had been a lack of closure when you broke up.

“But,” Adrian tried once more to talk to you, but seeing you done with him, König stepped between you and Adrian.

“Leave.” He growled out and stared him down.

“Jesus! Ok! Ok!”

He waited for Adrian to turn around and return to his partner before he relented, finding you quickly and dropping his hand to the small of your back.

You muttered out a quiet thanks and an apology for ruining a nice day, but König shook his head, he wouldn’t mind going home anyways. “Too many people.”

The next time you spoke up you were in front of your door, fishing your keys out of your purse. You were in the middle of a half hearted thank you to König when you suddenly found yourself pressed up against the door, König’s left arm braced against the door while his right arm was wound around your waist, pulling you tight against him.

“Ah! K-könig! What!” You squealed, heart pounding wildly in your chest as you tried to push back, only for him to tighten his hold on you, pulling you even closer to his hard body.

You could feel everything. From the muscles in his arms trapping you against him, every breath he took, the flutter of his mask as he pressed his mouth against the side of your face, and the way his dick was hardening against your ass. You gasped, your entire body buzzing with want, need.

“Do not think of him.” He growled into your ear, earning a whimper from you, your struggling against him not an attempt to get out of his hold, but to feel more of him.

“Wh-what?” You finally managed to gasp out, one hand clutching at his arm as you tried to calm down.

He wasn’t having that. Behind the loose front of his mask, his mouth found your neck. His teeth found your neck. You whined, quietly moaning out his name, as his tongue lapped at and soothed the fresh bite mark. “Think only of me.”

You let out a breathy whine as you could definitely feel the outline of his hardness roughly rutting into you, your front pressed fully against the door at this point. He repeated the action a few times, heavy pants fanning your neck, tongue sliding out over your skin once more. It wasn’t elegant, but desperate and needy. Until he suddenly stilled and gently set you fully back on the ground.

He turned you around, setting your back against the door, and moved his hand from your waist to cup your face, forcing you to look into his eyes. “Goodnight.”

You blinked. “What?” No. That one you understood. “What?”

He chuckled, “remember to lock your door.”

What! You sagged against the door and watched as he walked down the hall to his own flat. How in the world were you supposed to go to sleep after that?

More Neighbor König: [Neighbor König masterlist]

#anonymous #könig x reader #neighbor!könig #konig x reader #könig x fem reader #quick! go to google translate to figure out what he said #reader madly downloading duolingo now

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foxilayde · 8 months

Note

Taking a break from Thanksgiving thots to ask how you envision OTTR Leto meeting reader?? I haven’t given it much thought before this moment and now I’m desperate to hear your thoughts on the beginning of their relationship

I think about this one all the time.

You met Leto in Venice. Ocean Front Walk Venice, CA.

It gets hot in the Valley.

So hot that when you’re getting off your shift one blazing afternoon in downtown Los Angeles, the prospect of sitting in dead stop traffic on the 60 to Jurupa Valley, in your busted Honda Civic, only to go home to a stifling house with no AC…. Is anything but appealing.

So you do something unexpected. You are going to cool down, and you’re going to treat yourself while you do it. You’re going to pretend your life is ab-fab (absolutely fabulous) if only for one evening.

You take off from the parking lot of your job and instead of heading east, you go west. You stop at Neiman Marcus and you buy a dress. One that is too expensive to actually keep. So you wear it out and tuck the tags with every intention to return the next day. The dress looks amazing tho, it’ll be a shame to say farewell. It’s a classy little black cocktail thing that goes well with your plain black work shoes.

You get a little touch-up at the makeup counter to refresh your lipstick and spray on some Diptyque, and you head back to your car. You google, “open houses ocean view near me” and you take off to the coast.

You park your car a few blocks away from the listing. If the agent sees that heap, they probably won’t let you step inside. I mean this house is listed for nearly 15 million dollars. You shouldn’t even be walking down this block. You feel almost guilty for parking anywhere near this neighborhood.

There’s about 5 or six other people in the house looking around. The agent smiles at you and hands you a brochure when you enter. A glossy embossed thing listing the amenities as well as her contact information. You feel a little overdressed. The men are in tommy Bahama shirts and the women are in Lulu Lemon leggings.

You get a glass of free champagne and you help yourself to the charcuterie tray, looking around the house with appraising eyes, trying to nod your head at the bannisters and balconies like “hmm yes, maybe this will do.” Truthfully the house is beyond gorgeous. It’s ocean adjacent and has it’s own deck, pool, hot tub rooftop lounge, bedroom balcony… the kitchen is a thing of ART. The whole open concept and glass everything makes you feel so utterly out of place.

But its not like buying it was ever in the cards or the intention. the AC works, that’s all you care about, and you step outside the living room patio balcony, the ocean breeze hits your face in the most cooling fantastic sort of way. You audibly sigh and close your eyes breathing in the air. A voice from behind you startles you.

“Refreshing, isn’t it?” You nearly drop your glass, surprised by the man’s proximity.

God. He is handsome. Slick backed hair, mirrored aviators, a thousand watt smile, movie star jaw, and a dark navy suit cut, sewn, and ironed by Giorgio Armani himself. He looks like a magazine advert for Ray Bans. Now this, this is the type of man who buys a 15 million dollar home. Not you. The way he’s smiling at you now seems like… like joke or something. Like he’s laughing at you. He can smell the Honda Civic on you, can clock your shoes as Margiela knock-offs… heat creeps up your face despite the cooling breeze.

You look down at the floor and smile politely. “Excuse me” you mutter and go inside to investigate another part of the house.

You run into him again in the closet. Literally, you bump into him in the grand walk in. He’s probably going to need a closet this big for his collection of fine Italian sartorials. “Sorry” you mumble, ducking out. God he smells good.

You head back down to the kitchen to grab more cheese and crackers. Another bonus of open house crashing along with the free AC and free sparkling wine. Free food.

You’re midway through shoving another Brie covered cracker into your mouth when you see him again, in the kitchen, examining something attached to the marble countertop. His glasses are hanging from the center of his undone silk shirt. Those eyes.

You cover your cracker-full mouth and gulp. He’s so fucking cute furrowing his brow at the contraption and he spins the lever of it with one hand and smiles. He looks up at you.

“Pasta maker.” He points to it before shoving his hand back in his pocket. “You ever use one like this? It’s old school.”

You shake your head, still swallowing cracker.

“Wonder if it comes with the house…” He muses, looking up at the recessed lighting. He points up. “They all come with this now, you notice that?”

You shake your head again.

He tsks and continues, “Can’t stand it. I like something softer, y’know. These are harsh. You get up at 3 in the morning to get a glass of water and you want to kill yourself.”

You shrug and take a sip of sparkling wine. You wish you could talk to him but you can’t. You can feel yourself on the verge of saying something fucking stupid and it’s best to just not speak at all. So you look up at the recessed lighting with a curious face, trying to see the harshness, as he put it.

“Something hanging, like right over here,” he indicates over the island. “Something with yellow light. Soft, capiche?”

You smile at the word. It makes you more comfortable for some reason. “What? Like the Tiffany lampshades in the pool hall?” You offer with a smile.

He grins the most dazzling smile at you, stepping a foot closer and nodding. “Not exactly what I had in mind, but keep talking.”

“I was thinking more Venini myself.” You offer, taking another sip. He nods at you with appreciation.

“Tasteful. And soft. I’m listening.”

Your cheeks hurt from smiling at this point and you take a few steps to the living room gesturing near the sofa.

“An Arco floor lamp in the corner right here.” You submit to him, looking back over your shoulder with a wink. He chuckles.

“Took the words right out of my mouth.”

“And for the foyer,” you stride over to the front entrance, “A Sputnik. Right in the middle.”

“Gold or silver?” He asks.

“Bronze of course.” You reply with an affected air.

“How silly of me, dear.” He puts his hand over his heart.

The real estate agent makes a remark on what a gorgeous couple you are and how you just “fit the house”.

You start to protest but the man puts his arm around your shoulders and thanks the agent saying, “whatever baby wants, baby gets.” Winking at the woman and KISSING the side of your head. Which makes your face turn hot instantly.

He is… good at playing along, isn’t he. Well isn’t that what you were doing already? cosplaying as someone who could afford the house, and now you’re cosplaying a couple with this man whom you don’t even know the name of? Jesus—Just go with it, you suppose. Enjoy the pretending before you have to go back to the heat of Jurupa Valley…

“Now what about the dining room?” He asks into your ear in a deep voice, arm still over your shoulder.

“Hmmm,” You’re slowly running out of lamp styles, but you can’t let on. “How do you feel about Venetian glass, darling?”

“Inspired. Really,” he squints his eyes at the recessed lighting over the dining table. “We are in Venice after all.” He laughs with a toothy smile. “You have fine taste…” he leads.

You give him your name. He repeats it before telling you his. “Leto”

“I should have known you would have fine taste by the dress you’re wearing.” He compliments, picking up a glass of sparkling wine on the marble counter and gesturing your dress up and down.

“Thank you.” You blush. It’s not even yours. It’s on loan. You’re returning it tomorrow and you feel like a fraud.

Leto bites his bottom lip in contemplation then takes a step towards you, his hand making its way towards the nape of your neck with stern concentration on his lips. Oh fuck he’s about to kiss you. You make the split second decision to let him, closing your eyes gently, puckering your lips, holding your breath, and leaning in slightly.

But he doesn’t kiss you. You feel the slide of glossy paper down the back of your neck and the settling of it under your dress. He was tucking in the price tag of the dress for you. Jesus fucking Christ. You step back, embarrassed. He pats your arm. You cover your your brow, feeling your face get hot once again. So much for searching for that cool breeze by the coast!

Leto chuckles pleasantly. “Hey, hey, don’t be embarrassed. Happens to the best of us.”

God he’s probably giving you the benefit of the doubt. Probably thinks you just have so many new designer dresses that you innocently forgot to take the tag off… but if he had, would he have tucked it back in like he did? Or would he have just plucked it off?

“You like the house?” He asks, still jovial like the most embarrassing thing in the world didn’t just happen to you 5 seconds ago.

“It’s amazing. Perfect, really. The location, the style. It’s a dream. I have always wanted to live in Venice… the energy here is unbelievable.” You look around at the pristine grandiosity. The sun is close to setting now over the ocean and you sigh wistfully at the stunning view. “Whoever gets it is a lucky duck, I’ll tell you that.” You say, cheersing the sun itself before knocking back a sip of wine.

Leto watches you watch the lapping waves. “Let me buy it for you?”

You nearly choke on your drink. “Leto?! The house??”

Leto nearly doubles over in laughter, holding up his hand in apology, “No. No. I’m sorry, I— I meant the dress.”

Your face goes hot again. He knows! He knows you’re planning on returning it. Shit, he probably saw you pull up in your Civic!

“Please let me buy it for you. It suits you perfectly and it’d be a shame for anyone else to own it.” His eyes are so soft and kind and pretty and you almost want to cry.

“I… I can’t let you do that. It’s already on my card. I promise I won’t return it though, after that compliment, how could I?”

Leto nods. “At least let me take you out to dinner? Give you an excuse to show it off?”

Your heart nearly sinks. He’s probably the type to insist on picking you up. And he’s going to, what? Drive to the IE to do that?

“I live kind of far away…” you trail off, cringing slightly.

“I can send a car for you.”

“Leto, No, I—“

“Do you live father than a car ride? I can send a plane for you if you’d prefer?”

You laugh, but the returning stare isn’t a joking one. He’s fucking serious.

“I promise I won’t try anything funny. I just… want to pick your brain for more design ideas.” He grins and scratches the back of his neck, “It doesn’t have to be a date. Could be a business dinner? You would be my consultant…”

“Oh really? Consultant?” You cringe.

“Or it can be a date. A proper one. The best meal of your life. The Barber of Seville at the LA Operahouse, dancing, desert, a starlit walk on the beach outside my brand new house.” He grins. God what a fantastic smile.

“Sound like a 5 hour date.” You assess.

“What? You want longer? Because I will have a hot tub by the time this date rolls around and that can add up to 2 hours.”

“Two hours? Ambitious.”

“Agreed. But if done properly…” he winks and hands you a business card with his number on it. “Just think about it. I’ll be around.” He takes a deep breath, surveying the house and you, “I could stay and play house with you all day but I have a sudden urge to get ahold of my broker.” He takes your hand and kisses it.

“Nice meeting you Leto… Atreides.” You read off of his card.

“The pleasure was mine, gorgeous.”

Once he leaves, you have to go out to the balcony again for a breath of fresh air.

#oh my god this completely got away from me #but i literally have been thinking about the meet cute for like a year and a half no joke #Leto Atreides x you #Scout tag

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ereardon · 1 year

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Part Two: The Wedding Day

Summary: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw has been your best friend for a decade. He’s also your fiancé’s best man. So when he shows up at your hotel room the night before your wedding, it’s just because he’s your friend, right?

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Reader

Warnings: Angst, pining, weddings, cursing, smut, cheating

WC: 5.2K

See part one here; series masterlist here

“Hold on, the back of your shoe is sliding off.”

Anna crouched down in her pale pink silk dress and grabbed your ankle, pulling up the strap on your heels.

“Is that better?”

You nodded and she caught your gaze in the mirror, smiling. She straightened up and grabbed your arms with her tiny, cold hands.

“You look beautiful.”

You stared into the mirror. You saw what everyone else saw: a bride in a white dress. But you didn’t see what you should have seen.

A bride who couldn’t wait to walk down the aisle to the person she wanted to spend the rest of her life with.

He was at the end of the aisle. They both were.

That wasn’t the problem.

You picked up your perfume and spritzed it on your exposed collarbones and wrists. Anna smiled.

“That’s his favorite, isn’t it?” she asked, adjusting the one-shoulder tie of her silk gown.

You looked down at the pink Chanel bottle in your hands. “Yeah, it is.”

You remembered the first day you wore it. It was the day that you went to visit Jeremy and Bradley at Lemoore. They had been stationed there for four months after Pensacola. You were teeming with nervous energy as you got off the plane, tote bag hiked high on your shoulder, practically spilling out with housewarming gifts for the guys. At this point, Jeremy and Bradley had lived together for four years at the academy, and four years after in Florida. They were practically brothers. For all intents and purposes, you were their third wheel.

You stepped off the plane and were already sweating. In the airport bathroom you fixed your hair and makeup, adjusted the sundress you were wearing that you knew Jeremy loved, and touched up your lipstick before pulling out your phone and calling him.

“Hi baby, I’m here!”

“Honey, I’m so sorry.” Jeremy’s deep voice rang through the phone and you felt your heart plummet. “I got called in for a watch. I’ll be home late. But I’m sending Bradshaw, he should already be there.”

“Oh, OK,” you said, clearly dejected.

“I love you and I’ll see you when I get home, OK? Keep the bed warm for me baby.”

“I will.”

You hung up the phone with a frown and exited the bathroom. You were looking down, peering inside of your ridiculously oversized tote that Jeremy always mocked you for because it seemed to swallow and lose every single one of your possessions, when you heard a familiar voice. “Y/N!”

You looked up with a grin. Bradley was wearing his flight suit and a pair of aviator glasses, which he whipped off when he spotted you, not even hesitating before breaking out in a jog, pulling you seamlessly into his arms, one hand spread across your back.

You breathed him in. Bradley. Just as Jeremy had become an integral part of your life, so had Bradley. He was there for all the important things: your graduation from Georgetown, when you bought your first car, he helped Jeremy build all of the shitty IKEA furniture in your crappy apartment, he was there when you got your GMAT scores back. Bradley had always been there.

Even when Jeremy wasn’t.

He pulled back, hands still resting on your waist, brown eyes drinking you in. “You look great, honey.”

Your fingers gripped his forearms softly. “You too, Bradshaw.”

He paused. There was so much that never needed to be said between you and Bradley. One look and you just knew. He understood you. “Let’s get your bag, OK?”

You nodded, hiking your purse higher onto your shoulder and Bradley leaned over, guiding it off your arm seamlessly, holding it in his hand. With his other hand, he pressed against your lower back, propelling you forward toward baggage claim.

In the Bronco, Bradley turned up the A/C. It was hot. Too fucking hot. You slipped out of your sandals and lifted your bare feet onto the dash, feeling the familiar warmth of the truck’s seats hugging your back. You looked at him with a smile, sliding on your sunglasses.

“Missed you,” you said softly as Bradley took a right turn out of the airport terminal.

He reached over, squeezing your hand. “Missed you more, Ace.”

You turned back to the road, humming softly.

Back at the apartment, you sighed. It was in clear need of a woman’s touch. There was a rough looking leather couch, a small four-person dining room table, a dirty lamp in one corner. Jeremy and Bradley were many things, but they were not homemakers. The two of them combined had about as much taste as a contestant who got cut in the first round of Queer Eye auditions.

“I’ll put your stuff in Jer’s room,” Bradley said, carrying your luggage and purse into the room at the end of the hall.

You scoped out the kitchen, already making a mental list of all the things you would need to buy for them. Maybe Bradley would let you borrow the Bronco, even though you knew he hated letting people drive it.

Opening a cabinet next to the fridge you frowned. There was a small pepper grinder, a salt shaker and then up on a high shelf a bag that you could just barely make out. You stretched, letting out a small grunt as you reached for it, before a tall shadow enveloped you and you felt Bradley behind you, tanned muscular arm reaching up seamlessly and pulling the bag down. He set it on the counter. “It’s coffee.”

You turned around, back against the counter, and smirked. “I can see that now.”

Bradley kept one arm on the counter behind you, so you were trapped. “You smell great, Ace. What is that?”

You grinned. “Coco Mademoiselle.”

Bradley squinted.

“Chanel perfume, Bradley,” you clarified and he nodded. You looked up at him. He was still close, so close you could smell him. Fresh, like grass after a rainstorm. “Brad?”

“Yeah?”

“Should we grab some dinner?”

He took a step back. “Anything you want, Ace.”

Later that night, you fell asleep on the couch waiting for Jeremy to come home. Bradley looked down. You were snoring softly, your head resting in his lap. He brushed hair out of your face and eased off of the couch gently, gathering you into his arms and carrying you down the hall to Jeremy’s room. He set you down on the bed softly, pulling the covers over your body. As he turned to leave, your fingers shot out, grabbing his wrist. “I love you, Brad,” you murmured.

He leaned down, brushing a kiss over your forehead. “I love you, too.”

Bradley laid down in his own room, fan blasting over his sweaty skin, waiting. Finally, he heard Jeremy unlocking the front door, heavy footsteps down the hall. He heard your giggle as Jeremy presumably woke you up, the not-so-muffled sounds of your excited reunion.

He rolled over and pressed earplugs into his ears to drown out the sounds of your high pitched moans as Jeremy’s cock plunged into you over and over until you were practically wailing, your fingers gripping his muscular arms, your sweaty bare breasts slapping against his chiseled chest as you rode him so hard the bed knocked into the adjoining wall with Bradley’s.

He groaned and buried his head under a pillow.

And in the morning, he had to take a deep breath as he watched you make coffee in nothing more than a pair of lace panties and a ribbed tank top you had obviously stolen from Jeremy’s drawers, nipples prominently on display beneath the thin white fabric. You turned to him with a grin. “Hot as shit out, isn’t it?” you asked.

Bradley nodded before turning around, exiting the kitchen empty handed. “Yeah, too hot.”

Anna handed you the floral bouquet. The white satin ribbon was tight beneath your fingers as you fidgeted with it.

“Y/N?” Her voice rang out in the empty suite. You looked up.

“Yeah?”

“The photographer is waiting downstairs for the bridal portraits. Are you ready?”

You smoothed your hands along the silky fabric of your dress. You remembered the day you bought it.

Anna was supposed to come out and meet you in San Francisco but her grandmother had a stroke and the salon had only one available appointment. Moving the appointment date by even a week would be cutting it too close to get the tailoring done before the wedding.

You were disappointed, but it happened. You knew what you wanted. Something simple. Silk or satin, no lace. No frills. Anna would just try to convince you to try on something insane anyway, like a fully beaded corset dress. Something outside of your comfort zone.

You drove the four hours to the city from Lemoore and dropped your bags at the hotel. It was a long trip, and Jeremy had booked you a room knowing you wouldn’t want to make the drive there and back in the same day.

At the salon, the woman at the front smiled and asked for your name. You gave it to her and she looked at the screen. “And is your maid of honor Anna still coming?”

You shook your head, trying to hide your emotions. “No, um, it’s just me.”

“Well then,” she said, “let’s get you back in the dressing area.”

You nodded, following her along the plush white carpeted hallway.

The bridal associate helped you pick out a few dresses. She measured your waist and hips and chest, and left the changing room after laying out a silk ballgown on the floor, creating a well in the middle for you to step into so she could clip you in. You tugged the curtain aside once you were in, and she re-entered, yanking up the dress and clipping you in.

The associate held open the curtain and you stepped up gingerly onto the platform in front of the tri-paneled mirror.

“You look beautiful.”

Your eyes caught Bradley’s through the mirror. He stood a few feet back from the podium, hands at his sides, a genuine smile spread across his face.

You whipped around, tossing yourself into his arms before leaning back and pounding on his muscular bicep with one hand.

“Brad! What on Earth are you doing here!”

“Your mom told me that Anna bailed,” he said softly. “And I knew you wouldn’t want to do this alone.”

The associate raised her eyebrows. “It’s frowned upon for the groom to see the bride in her dress,” she said. “Let alone help pick the dress.”

“Oh he’s not my fiancé,” you said, eyes still locked on Bradley’s. “He’s my best friend.”

Bradley smiled. “Let’s find you a dress, princess.”

“I’m going to check on the musicians, OK?” Anna stood at the door, one hand on the handle. “Will you be alright while I’m gone?”

You gave her a weak smile. “It’s my wedding day. Of course I’ll be fine.”

She grinned, slipping out of the door of the suite.

You walked over to the wet bar and pulled a rocks glass from the cabinet, grabbing a bottle of Grey Goose and dumping it in with a splash. You lifted it to your lips.

It burned going down.

You were eight drinks deep and feeling it. You were still young, only twenty three, and open bar weddings were a novelty. A delightful novelty.

You returned to the table and practically collapsed on the chair, the green satin bow adorning the back sliding to the ground. Bradley grinned at you from the next chair over, elbow leaning on the table.

“You’re wasted,” he muttered, shaking his head.

“Am not!” you cried and he laughed as you sent a glass flying onto its side, dribbling water all down the white tablecloth.

“Fuck, Ace,” he said, “be careful.”

“Sorry,” you said sheepishly, righting the glass which thankfully was not broken and taking a sip of water. You closed your eyes briefly. “OK fine, I’m drunk.”

He nodded, standing up and tossing his suit jacket over one arm. “Come on, I’m taking you home.”

You pouted and Bradley almost caved. You could get him to do practically anything with that look. But the one thing you couldn’t get him to do was ignore your safety.

“Nope, not gonna work tonight, Y/N,” he said quietly. “Come on, I got you.”

He hauled you to your feet, your four inch stilettos doing nothing for your ability to look less than inebriated. The two of you pulled an Irish goodbye, not even stopping to talk to the bride and groom, friends of yours and Jeremy’s that you two had met once he and Bradley were stationed in Pensacola right after graduating from the academy.

Jeremy was meant to be your date, but he got called up for a mission at the last second and called in Bradley as his reinforcement. Bradley drove the two of you in his Bronco to New Orleans for the wedding.

You stumbled entering your hotel in the CBD. You had wanted to stay in the Quarter, but Jeremy had insisted the central business district had better, cleaner hotels.

You plopped down on the king bed, pawing at the ankle straps of your heels, grunting when your fingers couldn’t quite grip them right.

“Hey, hey, hold on a second.”

Bradley locked the door behind him, crossing the room and coming to kneel in front of where you sat on the bed, his thick fingers easily working the clasps of your black heels, sliding them off of your feet. You looked down at him. “Thank you.”

“No problem.”

Bradley stayed kneeling between your legs. Unconsciously, you spread your thighs wider. His eyes turned to saucers and he started to stand but you reached out, pressing your hands to the tops of his shoulders. “Bradley?”

“Yeah?”

“What would you do if I asked you to kiss me?”

A groan bubbled out of his throat. Bradley raised his hands to your bare legs, fingers slipping over your calves, up to behind your knees. Desire was practically burning him alive. “I’d say what about Jeremy.”

Things with you and Jeremy were good, for the most part. But he was gone a lot. And you were young. Sometimes you wanted more than someone who was good on paper. Sometimes you wanted someone who was there. Someone who looked at you the way Bradley did when he thought you didn’t notice.

“Y/N,” he whispered. “What are you doing?”

“Testing a hypothesis,” you said, leaning down and pressing your lips against his. In an instant, Bradley’s hands were on your cheeks, cupping your neck, running down your sides, coming to grip your waist.

“Fuck,” he grunted against your skin as you kissed him back, sliding further to the edge of the bed, wrapping your legs around his shoulders.

His hands pushed up the black fabric of your dress around your hips, revealing the thin strip of lace between your legs. He practically salivated looking at it. You opened your legs wider and Bradley lunged forward, tearing it off with one hand, tossing the ripped lace over his shoulder onto the ground. He leaned in, licking up against your already wet folds, pulling a moan from your throat. One large hand pressed down on your hips, the other came to your core, nudging you apart, scissoring your entrance. And then Bradley plunged one thick finger inside of you, causing you to scream out in surprise and ecstasy as he immediately nudged against your g-spot with his thick, calloused fingertip, his tongue flicking perfectly against your clit, forcing you to clench down on him within seconds.

“Fuck yes,” he muttered against your clit, tongue circling your swollen bud, adding another finger to your drenched cunt, fucking into you hard as you tried to lift your hips off the bed, desperate for more of him.

“Yes, yes!” you moaned, your walls closing in on his fingers. “Gonna come, oh God!”

And then you were coming around his fingers, Bradley’s face buried deep against your clit, his fingers thrusting up inside of you until you were screaming at the overstimulation.

You wasted no time pulling him to you, fingers bunched on the fabric of his white button down shirt, desperate for the weight of his muscular body on top of yours. You slid out of the rest of your dress, fingers flying to Bradley’s belt.

“Slow down, Ace,” he said, covering your hand with his, your fingers struggling with the zipper fly.

“No,” you murmured against his neck, kissing him until he was purring in your ear. You slid your fingers under the waistband of his suit pants, pulling them down just enough to expose his boxers. You yanked those down, freeing his hard cock. Immediately, you wrapped your fingers around his length, moaning at how hard and thick he was.

“Shit, baby, God that feels so good,” Bradley moaned into your neck as you pumped his length.

You opened your legs wide, feeling his hot, weeping tip sweep over your swollen and wet cunt. “Fuck me, now, Roo,” you whimpered and Bradley couldn’t control himself. With a single thrust he was pushing himself all of the way inside of you, your fingers coming out to clutch at his back, a scream rippling through your throat as you practically ripped in half to accommodate his size. “Oh my GOD,” you wept, legs shaking. “You’re huge.”

“Sorry, sorry,” he murmured against your neck, stilling inside of you. Normally, Bradley was tender with girls. He knew he was large, he tried to make it as comfortable as he could. But with you, he was desperate. He was on fire. He was possessed. “Shit, baby, are you OK?”

You nodded, a tear leaking down your cheek. “Yes, Roo, just fuck me, please?”

That sent all of the blood back to his cock and he leaned onto his forearms, slamming his hips into yours, forcing a string of moans out of your mouth. You bit down on his shoulder through his shirt, leaving lipstick marks on the white fabric, as Bradley moaned in your ear. He was practically whimpering as you leaned down and grabbed behind your knees, pulling your own legs back, letting him angle even deeper inside of you. “Shit,” he hissed in your ear, “you like it rough don’t you? Want me to fuck you until you can’t walk.”

“Yes!” you sobbed, feeling him brush so far inside of you that your eyes rolled back into your head. Your orgasm was a volcano moments before eruption. “Fuck, fuck, I’m going to come again.”

“Come for me, princess,” he muttered against your chest, taking one nipple into his mouth and sucking. He popped off with a loud suction. “Let me feel you coming on my cock. Been thinkin’ about this for so long, Jesus you feel so good.”

“Fuck, Bradley!” And then you were crashing around him, your walls squeezing so tight Bradley could barely thrust his cock back inside of you. He watched your face, your eyes squeezed shut tightly, perfect mouth rounded in an “o” as you cried out his name. That sent him over the edge and he sat up, grabbing your hips with his large hands, lifting your ass slightly off the bed, fucking into you like a mad man, feeling your cum dripping around his cock as he pressed forward, collapsing against your chest with a cry, painting inside of you, making you his.

The two of you laid there, sweaty, still attached. For a moment, neither of you said anything.

And then your phone started to ring where it sat on the pillow. You looked at Bradley in horror. He pulled out of you quickly and you rolled over, grabbing for the phone, answering it and standing up.

“Hello?”

There was a muffled sound on the other end. Bradley watched as you walked to the closet, pulling a bathrobe off of the hanger and sliding it on. When you turned to him, he noted the way your mascara and eyeliner were smudged and running down your cheek from where your tears had slid. You looked on the verge of tears again.

“Yeah, he’s here,” you whispered into the phone, looking directly at Bradley. “We had a good time at the wedding. I’ll call you tomorrow when we’re on the road?”

Bradley slid on a pair of boxers and stood on the opposite side of the bed. He dragged a hand down his face in anguish.

Your gaze was still locked on him. “I love you, too,” you said softly into the receiver.

You hung up. Bradley opened his mouth.

You cut him off. “This never happened.” And then you went into the en suite bathroom, locked the door, and sat on the floor and cried.

“Everyone is downstairs, honey. Are you ready?”

You looked up at your dad. He felt tall. You felt like you were five years old again, playing dress up. It didn’t feel like your wedding day. None of it felt real.

Where had all of the years gone? How had you gone from a little girl to a woman in the blink of an eye? It felt almost comical that they were letting you get married. You were thirty one, but you felt like a child wearing your mom’s shoes in her walk-in closet.

Your father stood by the door in his black tux. Anna was next to him, carrying both her bouquet and yours. The wedding planner had her clipboard out, foot tapping nervously on the plush carpet of the suite.

You nodded.

“Let’s go.”

“Get out!”

“Baby.”

“Leave!” You practically threw yourself at the door closing it behind you. Jeremy stood on the other side of the bedroom door, his bedroom door. You slid to the ground, tears streaming down your face. After a moment, you heard Jeremy’s exasperated sigh. There was a minute or so of chatter as he obviously conveyed his frustrations to Bradley in the living room before the distinct slam of the front door rang out through the rental house.

You crawled away from the door, unlocking it and peering out into the hallway. Bradley stood at the end of it, arms crossed over his chest.

“Is he gone?” you asked, pulling yourself to standing, arm shaky as you braced yourself against the doorway.

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“Good.” You walked out into the living room and made your way into the kitchen, grabbing for a wine glass and the bottle of white that sat out on the counter, splashing some into the glass and downing it in a single gulp. Bradley followed you wordlessly into the kitchen.

“You gonna tell me what happened, Ace?”

“What did he tell you?” you asked, turning toward him. He looked good, wearing a tight black shirt that accentuated his broad shoulders and a pair of athletic shorts that ended higher on the thighs than you’d expect.

Bradley shook his head. “Not going to play games with you tonight, Y/N. He’s my best friend and you’re his girlfriend.”

“I thought I was your best friend, too,” you whispered, looking up at him through your lashes. “Or did that stop when we slept together?”

Bradley paled. It had been almost two years since that night in New Orleans, but he still thought about it every time he reached down and tugged on his cock, bringing himself to orgasm thinking of the way your face had contorted as he slid inside of you. It was torture listening to you make love with Jeremy in the room next to his when he knew exactly what sounds could be dripping out of your mouth, if it was his bed you were in.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” you said softly, shaking your head. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

The two of you had never talked about New Orleans again. It was an agreement. Practically law. The two of you could only exist if you refused to ever bring it up again.

Bradley crossed his arms over his chest.

“He’s going to the bar,” he said after a moment. “Not sure how long he’ll be gone. That’s all he told me.”

You poured yourself another glass of wine and brushed past Bradley into the living room, settling down on the couch. “He doesn’t listen to me,” you muttered. “He loves to hear himself. He thinks he’s God sometimes and I swear, I don’t know whether or not he even realizes I’m there half the time.”

Bradley took a seat on the ottoman in front of the couch, leaning his elbows against his legs, thighs spread wide. “He loves you, Ace.”

You raised your eyes to his, filled with tears. “Sometimes love isn’t enough, Bradley. Two people can love each other but not be right for each other.”

He looked at you with a grimace. “I know that.”

Of course he did. He loved you. He had always loved you. But he had also convinced himself he wasn’t right for you.

What if he was wrong?

“What am I doing?” you whispered.

You had moved to Pensacola a year ago, after your MBA program at Georgetown ended. You had given up your dreams to follow Bradley and Jeremy as they moved from base to base. They had just gotten the call that their next assignment was Lemoore. You had accepted a six-month placement with a firm in Atlanta that would overlap with their first few months in California. You were still young, only twenty five, but you wanted clarity. You wanted a promise that Jeremy wasn’t willing to give you.

That was the fight. You wanted the promise of a ring when you joined him in Lemoore. He hadn’t been sure. After four years, he still wasn’t sure.

“You’re doing your best, Ace,” Bradley said quietly. “It’s all any of us can do.”

“He doesn’t want to marry me,” you cried. “He said he’s not ready. That he’s not sure.” You raised your eyes to his. “Why isn’t he sure?”

“Honey.”

You shook your head. “He should be sure, right? That’s a red flag, right? If he loved me, he’d want to marry me.”

“Y/N, it’s not that simple,” Bradley said, leaning forward and taking your hands into his. You tipped your head to the side, sniffling. Bradley reached one hand up and cupped your chin, tilting it up, forcing you to look at him. “Jer loves you. But he’s just scared. You’re not like him. You’re a planner. You know what you want and you go after it immediately. Jeremy? He needs more time on things. Remember how long it took him to pick out his truck?”

You laughed. The three of you had spent five weekends in a row at the car dealership until finally you tossed your hands in the air in exasperation. Get the damn car, Jer! you had shouted. In the end, he walked away with the exact one the three of you had decided was best before you even stepped foot on the lot.

Bradley was right. Jeremy needed time. He wasn’t a risk taker. He wasn’t quick to make decisions. But he was practical and he was strong and he held you together when you felt like falling apart.

He was all of the things that Bradley wasn’t.

And Bradley was all of the things Jeremy lacked.

You needed them. Both of them.

You could hear the musicians playing. The doors to the ballroom were closed. You had opted not to have Anna and Bradley walk down the aisle as bridesmaid and groomsman. They were already at the altar, waiting.

With Jeremy.

Your father looked down at you with a smile. “Are you ready princess?”

You gripped your bouquet in one hand, your father’s arm supporting you on the other side.

You looked up at him with a nod and the wedding planner tossed open the doors. Everyone rose to their feet but you couldn’t focus on anyone except the two guys at the front of the room.

Bradley and Jeremy stood so close they were almost touching. You took in Jeremy’s dark hair, slicked back in a perfect coif, bright white smile, hazel eyes sweeping over you.

Behind him was Bradley. You could feel the weight of his stare from the end of the aisle.

You tightened your grip on your father’s arm. It was like you were floating toward them.

Both of them.

Your mouth was open in shock. “What did you just say?”

“Does he make you as happy as I would make you?”

You felt the tears start to stream down your face. “Bradley, don’t do this,” you begged. “Not now, not tonight.”

“If not tonight then when, Y/N?” he demanded, fingers gripping your arms tighter. “I love you and I have always loved you and I promise if you say yes I’ll spend the rest of my life doing anything I can to give you everything you could ever want.”

“It’s too late!” you sobbed. “I’m getting married tomorrow, Bradley. What about that do you not understand?”

He backed away. You practically sagged against the wall separating the living room from the bedroom of the suite. His brown eyes were hard, relentless. They never left yours. “You didn’t answer my question, Y/N.”

You opened your mouth to reply.

“Do you, Y/N, take Jeremy to be your lawfully wedded husband? In sickness and in health, to have and to hold, for better or for worse?”

You raised your eyes, flooded with tears, over Jeremy’s shoulder. They locked onto Bradley’s chocolatey warm ones.

He felt his heart speed up in his chest. There was a buzzing, all around him, drowning out all the noise. It was just your eyes on his. Your hands in Jeremy’s.

He waited.

He thought back to the way you had smiled at him in that dirty college bar that humid June night.

He thought about the way you had looked at him in the bridal suite less than twenty-four hours before.

He thought about the way you smelled as he picked you up at the airport the first time you visited Lemoore.

He thought about how you had felt under his fingertips in that New Orleans hotel room.

Bradley thought about all of the times he should have told you, but didn’t. He thought about all of the I love yous he had missed out on. The goodnight kisses. The desperate, intimate moans that could have been for him. He thought about how much his mother had loved you. How your laugh sounded like a symphony and the fact that he would fall asleep with a smile on his face if you were just in the house with him, even if it meant you were asleep in Jeremy’s arms. Bradley looked into your eyes and thought about all of the times that you had smiled for him and him alone. He felt his heart catch in his throat.

A single tear slipped down your cheek.

“I do,” you whispered.

The buzzing stopped. Everything was suddenly, overwhelmingly, irrevocably silent.

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#bradley rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley rooster bradshaw #top gun x reader #rooster imagine #rooster top gun #rooster fanfic #rooster x reader #rooster x you #rooster x y/n #bradley bradshaw x y/n #rooster smut #bradley bradshaw smut #bradley bradshaw x female reader

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michwritesstuff · 2 years

Text

Some Things Last Forever After All (Top Gun Maverick: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw)

a/n: listened to this song for the first time in a while yesterday and screamed at the idea of this. (i know country is not for everyone but i can perfectly see this with rooster so i hope you guys love it as much as i do!)

summary: female reader (she/her) x bradley bradshaw Flying for the Navy and returning to Top Gun gave Rooster some of the greatest memories and friends he could ever ask for. One night, he comes to the realization that he is in love with his best friend, and he can’t help but always want you around.

notes/warnings: friends to lovers? cute and fluffy rooster, mentions of alcohol (lyrics are bolded, past will be fully italicized…not to be confused with present quotes)

word count: 1.9k

Bradley never really counted on the good things in his life lasting very long. After losing his dad at such a young age, and his mom later in life, he convinced himself that the people he loved and cared about would only end up leaving and disappointing him.

When Maverick pulled his papers to the Naval Academy, setting him and his career back by four years, Bradley swore that the world was out to get him. He had never been so angry and resentful towards anyone in his life.

From the moment his dad passed away, Bradley knew that he wanted to fly. In some way, he felt like it would connect them—bring him back, even if it was just for a few fleeting moments…in memory.

This was it for him. The Navy. Top Gun. This was all he needed in life. The people he would meet and get to know, sure they could help pass the time. But that’s all, right?

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

FM station on the outskirts Blue jeans after years of shift work All fading out like I always knew they would

As he pulled into the parking lot to the Hard Deck in his Bronco, Rooster couldn’t help but feel at home. Sure, the place looked like a dump on the outside, but he had created some of his closest friends here.

He still remembers the first time he talked to you at the bar.

You had just got done shooting down tequila with Natasha, whom since you last seen her been named “Phoenix.”

“Ladies, looking good this evening” he greeted.

Your throat still burned as you turned towards the voice.

A man, who you didn’t recognize, stood there. He looked to be about 6’0”, his eyes covered by a pair of aviators that rested on his face.

You couldn’t help but think “Who the hell wears glasses inside? This guy apparently.”

Taking in the rest of his appearance, he bore a dark pair of faded blue jeans and a white tank top layered with what seemed to look like a vintage Hawaiin shirt…interesting.

The sleeves cuffed his arm in just the right place, his strong arms on display. His smooth and tan skin slightly disrupted by a few small scars on his cheek and a ridiculous pornstache, which you had to admit, suited him.

Had you not taken that shot, and the three other ones before it, you would never have ranted the way you were about to. Fortunately for everyone around you, you had.

“Oh god, please. I can not do this again. Look buddy, we’re not interested. I have to deal enough with cocky pilots that think just because they’re here that they’re hot shit and can go around slinging their dick everywhere. It’s not going to work for them and it won’t for you either civvy.”

The man’s face looked taken aback before a large smile took over his face, he seemed amused.

“Y/N, meet Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw. He’ll be at Top Gun with us. Bradshaw, this is Lieutenant Y/N Y/L/N,” Phoenix introduced the both of you.

Your face flushed red; you were not expecting that.

“Just Rooster, no need for formalities” he clarified, a teasing smile on his face.

A loud ringing bell startled you.

You turned around to see the woman at the bar pointing at a small sign, specifically where it stated something about placing your phone on the bar.

Which you hadn’t realized you had done until Rooster approached. This was all his fault.

“I’ll take a beer, on her tab”

The woman grabbed a bottle before knocking it on the edge of the bar to pop the top off, sliding it over in Rooster’s direction.

“Thanks Penny,” Rooster smiled.

Reaching between you and Phoenix, he grabbed his beer before continuing.

“Phoenix, good to see you again. Lieutenant Y/L/N, it was a pleasure. Next round is on me,” he smiled, tipping his beer in your direction before walking away.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

They say nothing lasts forever But they ain't seen us together Or the way the moonlight dances in your eyes

The waves crashing along the shore were drowned out by the laughter as the group sat around the fire after a long day of games.

Maverick had thought it would be a good idea to take the day off and go to the beach, something about team morale.

With the footballs put away and the drinks out, everyone began to wind down.

Phoenix recounted the story of how you guys had met, a mixture of laughter and shocked faces were present as Y/N was revealed as the buyer of all their drinks that night.

“Trust me, my bank account will never let me forget it.”

Since that moment, you and Rooster had pretty much become inseparable. He was your best friend, besides Natasha of course.

You had more in common than you would have originally thought, your thoughts and mannerisms sometimes identical. Phoenix swore that you were twin flames or something, you weren’t sure what she meant by that, but it sounded cool.

From hobbies to goals in life, you were pretty much on the same page.

Not to mention, he just understood you in a way no one else really could.

When you were frustrated about training or life in general, he knew. No matter how hard you convinced yourself you were hiding it well. He knew you, better than you knew yourself sometimes.

Maybe it was all the time you spent together, but he was your best friend and he always made sure to remind Natasha of the fact as she complained that you couldn’t bail on your monthly movie night with Rooster.

“Speaking of drinks, anyone need another?” Hangman spoke up.

“I’ll help,” you stood up, patting Rooster’s shoulder as you walked away.

His eyes followed your retreating body as you accompanied Hangman into the Hard Deck.

“So when’s the wedding?” Phoenix spoke up.

Rooster’s eyes widened in amusement and confusion.

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, come on, Rooster. We can all see it. You’re in love with Y/C/S. Just man up and tell her already.”

Was he in love with you? I mean sure, he cared about you and wanted you around. You’re his best friend, but love?

As you walked out the back porch with Hangman, arms securely holding beer bottles as you threw your head back in laughter, Rooster couldn’t help the way his heart swelled as he watched you.

Taking your place next to him he swore that you sat closer to him than you had before. But it was just his imagination, right?

With the cool breeze that fell over the group you had managed to nestle closer to Rooster to the point that you were practically in his lap, one leg over his as you rested your hands in your lap, your head resting on his shoulder.

“Cold?” he questioned.

“Just a bit,” you replied.

Without any hesitation Rooster wrapped his arm around you, his hand resting on your hip as he pulled you even closer.

“Thanks Roo.”

He looked down to meet your eyes, the moonlight shining as you smiled up at him.

Yeah, he loved you.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Just a t-shirt in the kitchen With no make-up and a million Other things that I could look at my whole life

He would never admit to anyone if they asked, but this is when Rooster adored you the absolute most.

He never imagined himself liking such a domestic relationship, but after late movie nights that went far past your bedtime or times when you drank a little too much at the hard deck and couldn’t make it to your dorm and would end up crashing at his place, he would always wake up to the same view.

You.

Well—you in the kitchen making breakfast for the both of you.

It was the same routine. You would ‘argue’ the night before about who got to sleep in his room and who would crash on the couch. As a ‘guest’ he insisted that you should take his room and that he would take the couch.

Of course, you never wanted to burden him in his own home and would simply deny his request, demanding that you would take the couch.

You would go back and forth for a while until you walked up to the couch and just laid down.

Too tired to argue anymore, he would bid you a goodnight.

“Sweet Dreams Roo.”

When he awoke, the smell of fresh bacon and coffee wafted throughout the house.

Walking in the kitchen he found your back turned to him as you nursed the pans of bacon and eggs on the stove.

Your t-shirt—well technically his, which you stole, fell below your ass, leaving your legs on display.

Sensing his presence, you turned around.

“Morning sleepyhead,” you teased with a warm smile.

His morning tiredness still lingering, his eyes wandered slightly longer over your appearance than he found appropriate before his eyes found yours, greeting you with a smile of his own.

As he thought about this somewhat often routine, he couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to truly wake up next to you.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

A love like that makes a man have second thoughts Maybe some things last forever after all

The more he thought about it the more in love Rooster felt. He loved you, truly and fully.

He was scared to admit that, afraid that he would lose you.

But as time continued on, he knew that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you.

After the uranium enrichment site had been destroyed everything was put into perspective for the team.

Maverick and Rooster could have died. You could have lost him, he could have lost you.

The Navy thought it important to keep the team together, stationing you all in San Diego.

The finality of the decision led everyone to move off base.

Rooster had already been living in his own home.

As you laid on the couch, your head in his lap as you rambled on about how hard it had been for you and Phoenix as you went on your apartment search, you almost missed when Rooster had offered for you to move in with him.

“What?” you asked.

“Why don’t you just move in with me?”

“Rooster don’t be ridiculous,” you said sitting up.

“What, why not? You’re here all the time anyways. It doesn’t seem so far-fetched to me.”

“I sleep on the couch!” you exclaimed.

“There’s not even an extra bedroom.”

He went quiet for a moment, staring at the ground before him as you began to realize.

“Oh”

He wanted you to move in with him.

It was no secret to anyone that you and Rooster had something more than a friendship going on.

While there had been a few stolen kisses here and there when in the moment, neither of you had ever felt confident enough to bring it up.

“Yes,” you breathed.

This caught Rooster’s attention.

“Really?” he asked, a hint of hope in his eyes. God, you loved him.

“Yeah, I’d love that.”

Before you could process what was happening, Rooster barreled over to you, your back hitting the couch as he hovered over you.

You chuckled at his forwardness, reaching your hand up to graze his cheek.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked.

“Please,” you spoke, your voice barely above whisper.

Your hand moved from his cheek to his neck as your fingers played with his soft curls at the nape of his neck as you pulled him forward.

His lips gently brushed yours before he pulled back.

“I love you Y/N.”

“And I love you Bradley.”

a/n: If you like my work please support by liking/reblogging. Also, feel free to message me about ideas. I haven’t written in a while because I don’t have a lot of time, but when inspiration hits i’ll sit down for hours

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doodle17 · 1 year

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Psychonauts Future Fanfic chapter 1

(I am by no means a professional writer, and this was made entirely for fun. But as a warning, chapters may be heavily edited or even deleted and re-uploaded in the future, as I am very self conscious about my writing.)

Raz looked down at the newspapers set on the table by Sasha. He let out a defeated sigh and rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, I'm stumped. I don't know what to do..."

"Of course you don't..." Sasha grumbled. Raz looked back to the papers. He tried to examine them closer, seeing if maybe there was at least a small bit of evidence that could lead them to what their criminal was planning. Of course, he found nothing.

The papers were the same old thing. Research facilities and laboratories destroyed and ruined, robbed of everything valuable. The same old headline was on everyone. "Local Research stolen by mysterious strangers." Of course, the Psychonauts knew who it was. But unfortunately, they didn't know why they were stealing hazardous amounts of chemicals and Psi-lirium. And they didn't know where they were taking it.

Raz sifted through the papers before once again looking to Sasha. He tried to give him a reassuring smile. "Ah, c'mon Sasha, well find out! Eventually." Sasha lowered his glasses and raised an eyebrow. Raz looked around the room awkwardly before clearing his throat.

"Well, Agent Forsythe needs us to meet in her office. She says she has a plan." Sasha said with a doubtful tone. He stood up from his chair and waved his hand, gesturing for Raz to follow him. Raz glanced at the papers one more time. He picked one up, quickly folded it and put it in the pocket of his coat, then quickly caught up with Sasha.

As the two of them walked down the hallway, Raz glanced at Sasha. He remembered when he was a kid he would have to look up in order to make eye contact, but now he was almost as tall as him. Maybe even a few inches taller! He definitely changed in the past 9 years. Everyone had. Especially his family. Queepie was going to start his first week at camp soon.

Wow. How time flies... Raz thought to himself. It only felt like his first day at camp was a few weeks ago. I can't believe I'm already 19 years old. Man, time really flies by...He softly chuckled to himself. I remember when I was younger, I couldn't wait to go on crazy missions like this. Too bad I didn't know there was a LOT more boring investigating than kicking "bad guy" ass.

"Something on your mind, Razputin?" Sasha said, breaking the silence and snapping Raz out of his train of thought. "Huh? Oh, yeah. Just thinking about how much things have changed," He gestured to himself. "Including me." He grinned. Sasha shook his head but smiled slightly. "I don't think you've changed as much as you think. Maybe height wise."

"Oh yeah! I'm almost taller than you!" He hovered his hand above Sashas' head playfully. "Ugh, don't remind me. Every day I see you, it just makes me feel older." Raz laughed. "Hey, do you remember that old helmet?"

"Now Razutin, that's a very rude thing to say about Agent Fullbear-"

"No, no, the one I used to wear. The aviators helmet. With the goggles? Remember when Milla got me these glasses because they looked like my goggles?" He pointed the glasses with red tinted lenses resting on his head. Sasha squinted, thinking for a moment. "Ah! Yes, I remember now." He nodded. "Yes, I do remember that helmet. You used to wear it everywhere. I think I've only seen you without a few times before you stopped wearing it."

"Yeah!" Raz said. I used to wear that thing to bed sometimes. I wonder if it's still lying around somewhere... I wonder if it still fits...

"Agents."

The two of them turned to see an exhausted Norma holding a large mug of coffee and folders. Her eyes looked like it was taking all of her strength to hold them up, with dark bags underneath them. She heavily sighed. "Agent Forsythe is expecting you, and there was something else..." She tried to flip through the folders and papers. "Hey Norma, you doin' alright?" Raz asked. She heavily sighed again.

"Honestly, no. The damned receptionist skipped work again this week, so guess who's covering for her." She said with a forced, miserable smile. She proceeded to walk past the two of them as if she didn't stop to talk to them in the first place. "You'd better hurry, Forsythe is getting anxious. You know how she gets."

"Is that the life of the party, Razputin, I see?" Said Milla happily as the two men walked into Hollis' office. "In the flesh, baby!" Raz said with finger guns. Milla laughed. "Oh, it feels like every time I look at you, I'm expecting to see a small little boy only to be met with a handsome young man. You're turning my hair gray Agent Aquato!" She said with a playful smile. Raz blushed and rubbed the back of his neck. "D'aw, well I dunno about handsome -"

"Agents Nein, Vodello, and Aquato..." Hollis looked up from her papers and raised an eyebrow. Raz didn't even notice she was there. He was definitely startled when he heard her voice. She definitely sounded as tired as everyone else working on the current mission. Her desk was full of papers and empty cups of coffee. She lifted her reading classes and rested them her head. "Please, Agents, take a seat. I believe I've got a solution to our situation regarding the recent robberies."

She gestured for the three of them to take one of the seats at the front of her desk. "I believe I've found a way for all of us to figure out what our good friends at the Mandela corporation plan to do with all of the important stuff they've stolen." She said as she reached for a few papers that were resting underneath an empty coffee cup. She tapped them on her desk before sliding them toward the three Agents."There is one for each of you." She said, leaning back in her chair. Raz examined the paper. It had a picture of him, with a fake name and a bunch of other stuff. It looked like a resume of some sort. "Fake personas?" Raz asked, looking from his paper and pushing his glasses into place. Hollis nodded. "Yes, I have a feeling we won't get any farther if all we do is wait for them to attempt another scheme and hope we can get there on time to stop them. But if we can get inside..." She leaned in.

"But, isn't the place guarded by, like, a MILLION guards and security systems?" Raz asked. "Not to worry, Aquato, the two of you will be acting as interns. Milla and Sasha will be acting as your mentors. Otto has made sure that your fake work IDs are fool-proof." Intern, huh? That brings back memories. Raz then remembered being locked in the old closet in nothing but his underwear. He shuddered. Not very good memories.

"This may actually work!" Milla said, admiring her paper. But, who's going to be joining us?" That's right. Raz noticed she was holding a fourth paper. "Yeah, didn't you mention another agent to be the second intern with me?" Raz wondered who it could be.

Maybe Lizzie, or Dogen, maybe Adam! Oh, I hope it's Adam and not Norma. PLEASE, don't let it be Norma... Before Forsythe could answer, someone spoke. "It's mine."

Raz's heart stopped for a moment before it immediately started to beat a million miles a minute. He turned around quickly, almost getting out of his chair. Was it really?

"L-Lili?!" He sputtered.

(And end of chapter! Thanks for reading! Comments or tips are greatly appreciated as I want future chapters to be exceptional.)

#Psychonauts #Psychonauts Future #Doodle88 #psychonauts fanfiction #razputin aquato #hollis forsythe #milla vodello #sasha nein #norma natividad #lili zanotto #Razili

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callsign-mongoose · 6 months

Text

One For The Money

Pairing: Robert Floyd x OC Danica Willams

Warnings: Minors DNE, Pissing Maverick Off, A Bachelor Auction (If that makes you uncomfortable?), I don't think anything else.

Word Count: 3.7k

Summary: Danny is Omaha's best friend, and in an effort to prevent embarrassment during the annual "Pilot Auction" he brings her to bet on him. What will happen when someone else catches her eye?

A favor for Neil, that’s all it was. Despite being perhaps one of the more handsome men Danny had met in her life, her friend still faced the same challenges of confidence that many did.

The Dagger flight squadron was participating in a rather unusual fundraiser: an auction, where each would be put up for bid. The winner's prize? A date with the aviator they bid on. The money would be donated to the Navy.

Black heels clicked on the cement floor as Danica joined the crowd in the hangar. It was vacant of planes, instead, small tables were scattered about, a long table down one of the walls with food and drinks, and, on the front wall, a stage with a catwalk for the eligible bachelors and bachelorettes to work their stuff.

Champagne sounded good, and it was free, anyway, so why not drink? Danny grabbed a glass and walked towards one of the tables and placed her clutch down along with her drink. Her hand drifted down to her dress as she tried to brush some stray flecks of lint off. She wasn’t there to impress anybody. Danica was simply there to enjoy free food, free drinks, and the show… and if the opportunity arose, to spend Neil’s money. On Neil, because heaven forbid he not go for enough money, aviators and their egos.

A brunette wearing a knee length red dress with a halter neckline stood next to her at the table. She was older than most of the pilots who were up for bid but Danny wasn’t one to judge.

“Have you ever done something like this before?” the woman asked, leaning over with a smile as she took a sip of her drink.

Danny lifted her eyes and tried to return the smile as she shook her head. “No, it's not really a spending habit I can afford. I’m just here for a friend.” She paused before continuing, “My name’s Danica, by the way.”

The woman hummed, laughing at the comment about spending habits. “Nice to meet you Danica, I'm Penny.”

“So, are you here looking for someone special?”

“No, no, not any of these boys, anyway,” Penny said, chuckling. “I own the bar they all spend time at, I’ve seen them drunk, they aren’t really what I’m looking for,” she explained as her eyes trailed across the stage to the man who stood on the stage preparing some papers at his podium. She gave a nod toward him. “That one’s more my speed.” She finally turned her attention back to Danny after letting her eyes linger on the one you think Neil had called Maverick for a moment longer. “If you need me to tell you which ones are the good ones, let me know. I’ve got strong opinions and have seen them at their worst.”

“Thank you. I’m not sure I’ll need it, but good to know the offer is there.” Danny smiled. “I’m really just here incase Neil–” she paused “–Omaha, that’s what everyone calls him here at least, doesn’t have anyone bidding on him. He gave me an allowance to use to drive up his price.” Danny took a long sip of her champagne. “He’s my best friend, he’s an idiot sometimes, but I’ll give him this one. It’s not a terrible plan.”

The tapping on the mic brought everyone’s attention up to the front. Maverick stood at the podium. “Greetings, everyone, and welcome to our First Annual Aviator Auction. I’d like to start by apologizing to all the ladies who had their hopes up to bid on the Pacific Fleet Commander, tonight. I was assured by his wife that he was rather busy and couldn’t join.” A collection of disappointed sighs and laughs came from the audience. "But for those of you who haven't met me, I'm Maverick and I'll be your captain tonight." At your side, Penny booed playfully, but Maverick took it in stride and sent her a wink. "So, who's ready to have a good time?!"

— —

Maverick's voice was muffled behind the heavy stage curtains where all those who were to be auctioned awaited their time.

Jake stood in front of a mirror buttoning up a rather loud looking silk Hawaiian shirt, leaving the two top buttons undone. “Bradshaw, I don’t know how you wear these every day, it hurts my eyes even looking in the mirror,” he muttered, shaking his head.

Bradley just smirked, pulling a toothpick out of his pocket and unwrapping it, he placed it between his teeth. “It takes a special kind of man to pull it off Hangman, you're just not doing it well enough.”

“Oh screw off. I’m still gonna bring in more money than you, even dressed in your stupid fashion sense,” Hangman murmured fixing his hair. “What’s the highest bid-bringer get? I think I should get a trophy or something.”

Natasha stood off to the side, wearing a navy blue slip with a cut out back. Her hair pulled half up in a low ponytail, while the rest hung freely around her shoulders. Tapping her foot as she watched Jake fuss in front of the mirror. “You guys have to turn everything into a bet don’t you?” she muttered, glancing past Jake where Bob anxiously paced near the exit as he tried to peek out at the crowd.

“You okay Bob? You look worse than you did when I forgot to warn you about doing two barrel rolls,” she murmured walking over to offer him a small smile to try and help him relax.

Bob gave her a small nod before pulling his glasses off his face and producing a cleaning cloth from his suit's breast pocket so he could polish his glasses. “Yeah, yeah I’m good. Just, uh, feelin’ kinda,” he paused, what little fake confidence he had draining from his face. “No. Nope. Not good at all,” He murmured, placing his glasses back on his face while rapidly shaking his head. “I’m not one for crowds staring at me… let alone, crowds of women.”

He started to spiral. “What if the person who bids on me is expecting some big fancy date. Or god, what if they think I’m like Hangman?” He looked at Natasha with wide, panicked eyes. “I can’t act like Hangman. I can’t act at all, Natasha. Last time I acted, I was a tree in my third grade play. A tree. And what if no one bids on me at all!? That’s objectively worse because I’ll be standing on stage in silence as Mav tries to get people to spend money on a date with me, and–” he took a breath, dejected “–I don’t want to go on a pity date with Penny Benjamin.”

“Relax Bob. Breathe. Listen, no one's gonna expect you to be like Bagman. I don’t think anyone could be like Jake even if they wanted to… it’s just a bunch of people who are putting their money towards a good cause. No one is coming with the intention of finding anything serious. You’ll just take her out to dinner, have a nice conversation, be yourself, and that will be that.” Natasha placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “I promise you, you’re gonna get bids. If not, I’ll bid on you, then we can just get ice cream and watch movies like every other Sunday.” she said, trying to make him feel less worried.

It seemed to work, because Bob had started nodding along. He had trust in his pilot. Natasha was right, no one showed up with intentions of finding their new husband or anything, it was just for some fun and a good cause. No reason to be stressed.

That didn’t stop the way the sound of Maverick’s voice announcing the aviators made Bob’s stomach drop. So much for the auction not being a big deal. He was right back to where he was moments before as everyone lined up to wait for their signal.

— —

From the audience, Danny could see the man with the mic watching Penny like he hoped he would get her attention with his antics.

“Now, for the first of our auctionable aviators, please welcome to the stage: Vice Admiral Beau “Cyclone” Simpson!” he called, opening his arm to gesture towards the very clearly caught off guard Cyclone who stood just off stage with half a cookie in his mouth.

“What?!” he called through the crumbs falling from the cookie as Warlock pushed him onto the stage and into the spotlight. “I didn’t–”

“When Admiral Kazansky had to cancel, Cyclone offered to take his place. Thank you for your service, Cy. Let’s give Cyclone a big round of applause, everybody!” Mav shouted, starting a clap that the crowd easily joined in on.

“Maverick, I swear to–”

“Let’s start the bidding at $100 dollars, shall we?”

Cyclone scoffed, furrowing his eyebrows. “I’m worth at least $500.”

A paddle from the table in the very back of the room rose and Mav pointed out to the crowd. “It seems like we’ve got a taker! Alright, 500 bucks for my grumpy boss. Do I hear 600?”

“Nine hundred and fifty dollars.”

Danny’s head swiveled to the side hearing the voice so close to her, who was taking the bid?

“Penny?” Mav asked from on stage his eyebrows were raised in shock and he wasn’t exactly sure what to do… this wasn’t supposed to happen.

“My bid is $950 dollars,” Penny repeated calmly from her spot at the table, sending Danny a look that said I’m doing this just to fuck with him.

Maverick swallowed, finally moving from his frozen position “What? No.”

“Make it $1000 and I’ll buy you flowers,” Cyclone piped up realizing it was getting under Mav’s skin.

“Wait.”

“$1100, I get flowers and you take me for a second date, too.”

“Stop.”

“Sold,” Cyclone called stealing the gavel from Pete's hand and smacking the podium.

Penny laughed quietly as she watched everything register with Maverick. Sure it was a lot of money but it appeared worth it to Penny to see the look on Maverick’s face, and besides, she’d still get two dinners out of it.

“That guy’s your speed? I’d hate to see you run a marathon,” Danny said giggling as she turned to Penny. It was clear there was history there she wouldn’t understand, but it was entertaining to say the least.

After the laughs and whispers of the crowd died down and Mav regrouped, he took the mic and introduced the planned group of aviators, one at a time as they all came onto stage to line up.

Confidence dripped off Jake as he sauntered onto the stage was almost unbearable, but there were women in the audience who were eating it up.

Next was Bradley, a cocky grin on his lips and a toothpick between his teeth. He wore a black button-down with a gold chain tastefully peeking out from behind the neckline. He looked good. Strangely cowboy in his imitation of the “Seresin Style,” but good.

Omaha was next. Danny watched as he came out onto stage. Neil, who was clearly in his element, had always loved getting attention, and now he was gonna get fought over which made it better. Why did he even ask her to come? It was very clear that he’d go to a bidder who gave much more money than Danny had in her allowance. Neil had told her that he’d be willing to reimburse her up to $700 for his date.

— —

Natasha and Bob, followed Coyote and Payback onto the stage. Phoenix was confident as ever. Bob was decidedly less so. Natasha knew her worth and wasn’t placing any pressure on the event. The genuine confidence and the fact she was one of only two women, drew many eyes to her when she graced the stage.

Bob stood next to her, though he stood tall with his arms at attention, he felt as though he were getting smaller the longer he was on stage. Sure, there were women looking at him… but he was sure it was to laugh at him, or pick him apart like a piece of meat. He didn’t know which option was worse.

He frantically searched the crowd for a friendly face. Penny. She was always a motherly presence that Bob enjoyed. At the bar, he’d talk to her for hours while the others got drunk. She always appreciated that he was ready for conversation and far more polite than his drunk counterparts.

Penny shot Bob an encouraging grin before tilting her head to the side quickly, he furrowed his eyebrows trying to figure out what she was trying to tell him until she did it again, his eyes finally moved to the younger woman next to her. Dressed in a simple black dress with a sweetheart neckline, and a string of pearls adorning her neck. She was pretty, elegant, and perfect in his eyes, at least at base level, Bob wanted to get to know her.

Bob panicked when he noticed the woman was staring back at him. His eyes shifted back to Penny almost as if to check that she had meant to draw his attention to the woman, Penny however, was sending him a poignant look as if to tell him ’smile at her.’ So Bob mustered up the courage and once again made eye contact with the woman at Penny’s side, giving her a small smile.

— —

“Who’s the one with glasses?” Danny asked out loud, not looking away from Bob.

“That’s Bob. He’s a WSO, like Neil. The woman in the blue is his pilot,” Penny said nonchalantly as she watched Bob and Danny continue to lock eyes. ”He’s an absolute sweetheart. He comes into the bar with the rest of his squad, but I’ve never served him anything but Coke. He usually sits with some peanuts and hangs out with the others ‘til they become too drunk, then he comes to keep me company at the bar.”

— —

The bidding went down the line, starting with Hangman who went to a Commander's daughter for $875, and almost as if by a cruel yet entertaining twist of fate, Rooster went for exactly $876 (thanks to a bidding war), to the exact same woman. It perplexed and humbled Jake while Bradley dawned a Cheshire grin, he knew he’d be holding it over Jakes head for the foreseeable future.

Omaha’s bidding started and Danny raised her paddle “$600!” she called out wanting to start high to entice other women to outbid her.

Bob gave a frantic glance to Natasha and then Penny. The girl he had been staring at… and who he thought was staring at him was bidding for Omaha? Feeling defeated, he watched as the price for Neil continued up.

— —

Danny bowed out of the bidding at $750, two other women battled it out till the price reached $925. Neil was grinning like a kid in a candy store as the gavel came down on the podium.

With Neil taken care of, Danny allowed her thoughts to drift back towards Bob. She supposed she wouldn’t mind donating a chunk of change to a worthy cause in order to talk to him. Especially if it meant they could go on a date.

To prevent herself from spending her monthly budget, Danny set her own limit for $500, it was a long shot she’d win anyway, but she didn’t have money that she could just throw away. Even if it was for a good cause.

— —

Nat went for $900 dollars which was a surprise to no one, her natural smile and confidence pulled in every man in the audience, and some women too.

When it finally got to Bob's turn Mav placed a hand on his shoulder. “This is our resident Baby On Board. Bob is a genius in the jet and a date with him, you will not regret. Let’s start the bidding at $100.”

When the woman sitting with Penny immediately raised her paddle for the $100, it caught Bob so off guard his heart rate spiked. He was sure if it beat any faster his chest would explode. Maybe he could get lucky.

“$250!” Another voice called out

“$300!” A woman behind Sweetheart (on account of her neckline) responded by raising her paddle. It started a chain reaction.

Bob's eyes shifted back to the highest bidder before back to Sweetheart. “Oh we’ve got a little competition now,” Mav called out as the number continued to rise.

— —

“I’ll go $375!” Danica called out loudly, her eyes shifting from the prize man to the man at the podium with a hopeful, pleading glimmer in her eyes.

“$450!”

This was it, the final bid Danny could place. “I’ll do 500 Dollars!” she shouted a little too loudly, drawing more attention than she would have wished.

“Ooooh, we are halfway to a thousand ladies. Do we have a 600?” Mav called out wanting to drum up numbers.

Bob silently prayed that the number wouldn’t move anymore. Who needed to be the person who brought in the most money when Bob would have been over the moon to go for 75 bucks as long as it was to the mystery girl Penny was with.

A woman raised her paddle and Danny’s heart dropped to her feet. “$650,” the woman called out before another voice followed up: “$800.”

Danny’s eyes clouded over as she let her gaze drop to the paddle in her hands, placing it down on the table, making it clear she couldn’t afford the new prices. It was crushing.

— —

On stage, Bob began to disassociate from the moment that Sweetheart had placed her paddle down on the table. He didn’t care what he went for or who he went to anymore. The girl he was hoping would win was out, and he was left in a daze, not even registering the number as it continued to climb.

As the number shouting came to a slow pace, Mav spoke up. “1200 dollars a new record! Going once. Going twice.”

“1500 dollars,” a familiar voice called out from next to Danny once again mirroring a similar move she had pulled earlier that night. It was Penny.

“Sold to Ms. Benjamin for $1500! That is a new record set by Robert Floyd!”

Bob had stopped paying attention, fully zoned out and focused on some of the decorations that hung over the group in the back of the hangar. A banner that held the logo of the group they were fundraising for. As the bidding continued onto the next person, Bob realized he hadn’t been paying attention to who won. He needed to know who it was in order to talk to them later. What he was gonna talk about? He had no clue.

As the auction came to a close, all of the aviators who had been on stage regrouped in front of the stage to chatter until the audience member with their ticket came to talk with them.

The crowd started to mingle again and Penny turned to give Danny a small smile before taking her hand. “A little out of your price range huh? I don’t blame you, most of the girls who come here are daughters of admirals and such. They’ve got money to spend.” She pulled Danny towards the rewards table where a man sat with a paper and the list of tickets for the winners.

“Hi yes, last name Benjamin. I’m here to claim the tickets for Beau Simpson and Robert Floyd.”

Danica’s brows furrowed, though, when Penny held out the winning ticket for Bob. “Penny, wait what are you doing?” she asked, hesitantly taking the green ticket when Penny didn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.

“I’m placing a bet on young love,” she said with a smile before she shooed Danny off to find Bob.

Danica didn’t have to be told twice. After giving Penny a tight hug, she turned on her heel and started towards the large swarm of people in front of the stage.

— —

There were countless shoulder slaps and congratulations given to Bob for holding the record for the most money earned that night. Even having out earned the airboss himself. “How you pulled it off man I’ve got no idea, but you better show the lady a good time. She put a lot of money on you,” Hangman teased patting Bob’s back. Bob wasn’t paying attention to Hangman, his stomach was too busy twisting in knots as his eyes scanned for anyone holding the green ticket with his name on it.

His eyes finally landed on Danica as she approached the group, was she mad? Sad? Disappointed? Was she hoping to talk to him? He wanted to talk to her. To get her number. To ask her on a date, but he couldn’t. He had to wait until his official date showed up. He couldn’t leave the front until he was “checked out” with his ticket. Shallow nervous breaths escaped his chest as Bob watched the woman who he had become so entranced with. She opened her clutch and produced the green ticket from where had hid it for safe keeping. Bob’s heart lurched.

Growing closer to the group Danny held out the green ticket. Her eyes shifted around his face, trying to read his emotions. Would he be happy she got the ticket? Confused as to how she got it? Was she even the girl he had wanted to win? Would he be happy with the outcome? Her stomach churned in the seemingly endless second it took Bob to move.

He pulled a matching green ticket from his blazer’s breast pocket and let out the biggest, relieved sigh. His entire demeanor seemed to melt as he met her in the middle. “Thank God,” he whispered when he finally reached her, cupping her hand that held the ticket in it.

“Penny said that if I was gonna bet on anyone in this lineup, that it should be you,” Danny told him with a small laugh, only matched by Bob's equally reassuring one. Danica was sure that she could listen to his warm, captivating voice for hours on end.

“I was never much of a gambler,” he said, trying to set her expectations low. “I promise I’m gonna try to make all that trouble worth your while though.” He said quietly realizing that her hand was still in his own, it was comfortable though. So maybe they didn’t have to let go just yet.

“So, how about that first date?”

A/N: If you enjoyed it don't be afraid to comment or request! I love writing!

#top gun fandom #lewis pullman #robert bob floyd #bob floyd fanfiction #top gun fan fiction #top gun #robert floyd x oc #bob floyd x oc #bob floyd x y/n #topgun dagger squad #dagger squad shanagins #bachelor auction #Pissing off maverick #Admiral simpson

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sailorsolar12 · 2 years

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Beach Days Part 1- Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x FemMitchellOC

Here is my second little thing for Top Gun. Lord help me I am probably only going to be writing about this man, but who knows. Anyways, as I said before, my stuff is typically written with a named OC as it is easier to keep track of when I right.

Rating: T+

Words: 2.1k

Warning: Some agnst, fluff, screaming, tears, overprotective fathers, little bit of an age gap (11 years).

Summary: As the daughter of Pete Mitchell and Penny Benjamin, Lily - nicknamed Sunshine by the pilots of Top Gun- had grown up with Bradley Bradshaw. She had admired him when she was a child, but now she didn’t know if she hated him or loved him after blaming her for what her father did when he pulled Bradley’s papers. A day at the beach changes the perspective of a lot of people while Lily’s father tries to train the pilots called back to Top Gun to be a team.

Miramar, California also known as FIghtertown U.S.A. was home to a very popular bar called The Hard Deck which was currently owned by Penny Benjamin. Penny had owned the bar for three years now and wouldn’t have been able to successfully run it without the help of her bartender and daughter Lily Benjamin-Mitchell. Her daughter was now 27 and had recently graduated with her second master’s in Business. Her first master’s had been in marketing. Penny was very proud of her daughter with how far she had come in life. Penny was planning to pass the bar to her daughter within the next few years but wanted Lily to get the full hang of things at the bar before any talk of signing the bar over came about. Penny was currently counting out the bottles of alcohol she needed to restock out on the floor when she vaguely heard her daughter squeal. A soft chuckle left her lips as she grabbed the box of alcohol and walked out of the double doors that lead to the floor. A smile formed as she saw her daughter hugging the one man who had made Lily possible. Penny came behind the bar and set the box of alcohol down chuckling seeing the two embrace. She waited until Lily pulled away from her father and turned to go back behind the bar. “Pete…never thought I would see you here,” she greeted lightly as she began giving her daughter bottles to organize.

Pete Mitchell - call sign Maverick - was a Naval Aviator and had been for over 30 years. He had first met Penny before going to Top Gun and reencountered her quite a few times over the years. One of those encounters ended up resulting in the birth of their beautiful baby girl, Lilian Nicole Benjamin-Mitchell or Lily for short. He had immediately claimed her and made sure to take time off to spend with her and get to know her and make sure he was a part of her life. He was extremely glad when she decided not to go into the military as he didn’t want to worry about her while she was on the other side of the world from him. He supported Lily moving back to Miramar to work with her mother at the bar. He had supported her going to college again after getting her first master’s. He would happily burn the world down for his daughter if it meant she was safe and had a stable life.

Lily loved planes just like her father and loved the thrill they gave her. The only reason she hadn’t joined the Navy to follow her father’s footsteps was because she had really bad eyesight and had to wear glasses since she was 6 years of age. The moment Lily turned 25, she had Lasik surgery done to fix her eyes so she wouldn’t have to wear thick ass glasses every day for the rest of her life. Lily had her father’s dark brown hair and stunning green eyes and was often called Sunshine by the Naval Pilots who attended Top Gun. Lily quite liked the name as she could surprisingly keep up with a lot of the jargon the pilots spoke because of the fact of who her father was. A lot of the naval personnel believed she was a pilot until she simply laughed it off and then would tell him she was simply a bartender and walked back to the bar. Lily had become quite popular with the pilots and the locals to the point where everyone considered Lily the owner of The Hard Deck instead of Penny who was happy to be able to take a step back.

Lily smiled softly as she listened to her father tell her about the test flight he had done and hitting Mach 10.4 before it blew up and he had to eject. Lily snorted as Pete told her what a kid had said when he asked where he was once he had reached a diner. She looked at him wide eyed. “He really said that? God, you must have looked like crap for him to think you were an alien,” she quipped, wiping out shot glasses and turned as someone called for the barkeep. She plastered a simple smile on her face seeing a blonde Naval pilot giving what seemed to be a flirtatious smile. She popped open two beers and smiled at him as she slid them over to the pilot and turned back to her father just as Penny rang the bell because her father had his cell phone on the bar. SHe giggled, shaking her head at her father and came over to him. “Don’t worry, Dad.” She grabbed an empty container to go around and pick up the dishware and empty glasses and bottles. She hummed softly to the music that was playing in the background. She turned and gasped as she bumped into someone. Her head snapped up as she saw someone whom she thought she would never see again. Standing in front of her wearing light, blue jeans, a white tank top and a hawaiian shirt that was unbuttoned paired with aviators. Sunshine swallowed thickly as her green eyes met the green ones of someone whom she had considered her first love. “Bradley,” she greeted softly, sounding almost out of breath. She hadn’t seen Bradley since he had yelled at her…blaming her for her father pulling his papers from the academy. She had been 11 years old when he had left for the academy. She had been 18 when she ran into him again. She had hoped to reconcile with him after not seeing him for 7 years, but he had blown up on her claiming she had known her father would pull his papers…claiming that she was selfish and unreliable just like her father. Sunshine adjusted the bin of empty dishes and bottles in her arms and looked away from him walking back behind the bar to have her mom take the bin to the back. The brunette quickly grabbed a towel to wipe down the bar doing anything and everything to ignore the stare she was getting from Bradley. She froze as her wrist was grabbed causing her to gasp and look up at Bradley.

-Flashback 9 years ago-

Lily stood under the intense rays of the sun as she smiled to herself to try and get a tan. She did occasionally like to not be a recluse and go out into the sun. She was slowly walking the sand while holding her sandals and dressed in a thin sundress that covered her bikini. Her brown hair was loosely tied back as aviator sunglasses covered her eyes. She gasped as someone bumped into her back and turned around to yell at the person who had bumped into her with no regard for her. She froze seeing Bradley Bradshaw standing before her…shirtless and sweaty. She swallowed thickly and removed her sunglasses from her face as he stared at her as if he had seen a ghost. “Bradley,” she said lightly and frowned as he scoffed at her looking disgusted and walked away from her. What the hell had she done to him to warrant that kind of behavior? “Hey! I was talking to you Bradshaw,” Lily snapped, narrowing her eyes at him as he stormed away from her. The moment that she said her last name he turned seemingly filled with anger and stalked over to her towering over her causing her to go wide eyed.

“You’re such a selfish bitch, Lilian. I can’t believe you would think letting him do what he did was okay,” he hissed glaring at her clenching his fists as Bradley’s anger got the best of him.

Lily furrowed her brow completely confused by what he was saying. Her confused look seemed to anger Bradley further as he leaned closer to her.

“Was it your idea for him to pull my papers? To set my career back years? Was it because of your stupid school girl fake crush on me you had your father pull my academy papers?” Bradley snapped at her blinded by his anger.

Realization dawned on Lily as she felt her own anger course through her body. “My dad pulled your papers?” she asked in a soft tone. “That was why you didn’t go to the academy right away?” Lily looked down hearing Bradley scoff and walk off towards where his coworkers were. She looked up again watching leave and felt sick to her stomach realizing that her father was the reason why he hated her and why he couldn’t go to the academy for years.

-End Flashback-

Sunshine blinked as she was drawn out of her thoughts as she heard Bradley call her name. She tried to pull her wrist away from his hand and frowned when he wouldn’t let go. “What do you want?” she asked lightly, staring into his eyes. He had grown a mustache and looked almost exactly like his father. He had gotten tanner, and Sunshine could tell he was far more fit than she had ever seen him.

Bradley Bradshaw gazed at the woman before him, his mind going blank. He tried to remember how she looked the last time he saw her, but all he remembered was his anger coming out and directing it towards her. He knew she wasn’t to blame for what her father did. Thinking back on it over the years, he realized that she hadn’t even known that her father was the reason why his papers had been pulled. The pilot gazed at Lily and swallowed thickly letting go of her wrist watching as she quickly made herself busy wiping down the bar. He blinked rapidly, hiding away any emotions that were surfacing and turned as he heard the familiar voice of Phoenix.

“This is how I find out you’re back in the states?” Phoenix called as she came over and hugged her fellow pilot. She smirked having seen the interaction between him and the bartender. “So…Roos what was that with Sunshine?” she asked, smirking at his confused look. “Sunshine the bartender you were just in a staring contest with? She works here with her mom, and the pilots have taken to calling her Sunshine.”

Bradley - or Rooster as that was his call sign - frowned as he looked back over at Lily. He could tell she was on the verge of tears and having a panic attack. The sight of her that way made his chest tighten for some reason he didn’t fully understand. He furrowed his brow seeing she was being comforted by a man whom he couldn’t fully see. He turned back to Phoenix with a frown. “Nothing. It was nothing,” he said with a tone of finality just as Hangman spoke, diverting his attention away from Lily…Sunshine…whatever her name was.

Sunshine was shaking as she finished wiping down the bar top. She looked at her father who knew immediately something was wrong with her. “I’m fine, Dad. I just wasn’t expecting to see him again.”

“Clearly something happened between the two of you for you to react this way,” Pete said with a frown and looked at Penny who was equally worried. He gave a nod to Penny and handed her his card to be closed out of his tab that had been run up. “I’m taking you home,” he said sternly and furrowed his brow as Penny gave him his card back saying it had been declined. He patted his pockets to pull out money and frowned as Penny simply smirked and rang the bell again to have some of the sailors throw him out of the bar.

Lily gave a small smile watching her dad get thrown out. She swallowed and looked at her mother as she was gently pushed from the bar by Penny.

“Go home. I can handle everything for the rest of the night,” she said, nudging her to get out of the bar. Penny knew Lily was not in her right mind with the encounter between her and Bradley just now.

Sunshine sighed and grabbed her bomber jacket that had all of the patches of the squadrons her father had been to over the years slipping it on as she walked out feeling eyes on her. She glanced over her shoulder seeing Bradley stare at her as he started playing the piano. The brunette looked away swallowing and going over to where her father was listening and flashing back to Bradley’s father. She touched his arm lightly. “Let’s go home,” was all she had to say before getting on the back of her dad’s bike.

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simpforrooster · 10 months

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heard it all.

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x f!Reader

summary: reader vents to mav and penny about her feelings for a certain mustached fighter pilot. a/n: my take on a request from @kpopgirlbtssvt. i latched on to one part of the request and took off. i hope you still like it!

"What's going on in that head of yours?" the low voice of Maverick pulls you from your thoughts.

"Hmm, I don't know what you're talking about," you reply, continuing on without another thought.

"You've been wiping down that same spot of the bar for ten minutes."

Maverick and Penny, your boss, exchange a knowing glance. You look at the rag in the hand as if seeing it for the first time.

"I think it's plenty clean, y/n," Penny comments, winking at Mav.

Placing a hand on your hip, you stare the two of them down. "What are you two silently saying to one another?"

Penny shrugs a shoulder. "Oh nothing." You can see it in her eyes though. She knows exactly what has your brain all a-mush.

More like who.

Bradley Bradshaw.

The Hawaiian shirt wearing aviator.

The hot Hawaiian shirt wearing aviator.

He captured your heart the first day you met him. Sure, his looks were what drew you to him initially. But he was so nice. Like green flags all around.

You shake your head at the two people who have become a pseudo family to you. Tossing the rag onto the counter, a sigh escapes your mouth.

"Y'all just give it up. We're just friends." Your voice breaks on the word friends, and your eyes squeeze shut to hide your embarrassment.

"Come on," Penny starts.

Holding up a hand, you stop her. "Penny, please. It already hurts enough. He's the nicest, sweetest guy I've ever met."

Your chest heaves as you breath through your emotions.

"I have never met another man like him. He makes me feel seen. He makes me feel beautiful."

Maverick makes a move like he is going to say something, but Penny lays a hand on his arm, stopping him.

"And as if the silly little age difference isn't enough, he only sees me like a sister." A tear falls along your cheek, surprising you. Of course, you've grieved the non-relationship before. It isn't out of the norm to sob into your wine glass with Phoenix.

It's the first time you've ever cried in front of Penny and Mav.

The sound of a clearing throat has your spinning around.

Rooster looks at you, his brows knit together. You can't read the look on his face, but it can't be good. It tells you everything you need to know.

He heard it all.

And he doesn't feel the same.

Reaching up to sloppily wipe your tears, you tried to step around him, mumbling something so incoherent you can't decipher the words.

Rooster's strong arms reach out and stop you in your tracks.

"I can promise you I do not see you as a sister," he says, his voice low.

Not that you try, but words refuse to come out your mouth. How could they? The way he's staring at you has your heart beating in overdrive.

"Did you really mean all that?" he asks. His eyes roam over your face, searching for something. It takes you a second to realize he looks a little scared.

Scared of being rejected.

Bradley doesn't like you back. There's no way. He's had plenty of opportunities to make a move and hasn't.

He takes one step closer to you, the soles of your shoes meeting.

"Of course, Bradley." The sentence comes out barely a whisper, but he heard it. His hand snakes around your neck and settles into your hair. "Why wouldn't I be madly in love with you?"

A delicious groan escapes from his mouth before he closes the space between you. His lips meet yours and suddenly the Earth moves beneath your feet as the planets snap into alignment.

Bradley's lips are finally on yours, and it feels every bit as right as you imagined.

He pulls back so his mouth is feather light against yours. "Sweetheart, I am wildly in love with you." The words fall on your ears in soft whispers. Your eyes fall closed to relish in the way all this feels.

Bradley brings his mouth back to yours, pulling you tight against him. Your height difference has never been more apparant that right this second.

"Okay, okay, get a room," Maverick calls, followed by a, "Oof," as Penny's arm comes into contact with his solid stomach.

a/n: i hope y'all enjoy this one! i've been struggling with a little bit of writer's block.

#top gun maverick #top gun #top gun maverick fic #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster x reader #rooster fanfic #rooster top gun #bradley bradshaw #bradleybradshaw #bradley x reader

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womanofwords · 1 month

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The Poisoned Prodigy (Chapter 4)

After school, I went to Sandalwood Institute. I stuck out being the only one not wearing the Sandalwood uniform, but that didn't matter. I was looking for someone.

"Excuse me, have you seen Sally Kinley? I need to talk to her," I said, grabbing a scared looking boy and shaking him.

"Young man, you seem lost," someone said. A kind looking man approached me, hands behind his back as he walked. He walked like my grandpa used to, even though there was no way that he was older than forty. He also dressed like an old man, with a sweater and tweed slacks. Aviator glasses fresh from the seventies rested on the bridge of his nose. "And I'm fairly certain that you are not a student here."

I sighed and decided to be honest before he thought that I was a stalker. "I'm looking for Sally Kinley. She was friends with my best friend, Patton Reynolds, and I would like to talk to her."

A sad look took over his face. "Oh, goodness. By any chance, were you the boy sitting him up while he was on the floor?"

"You saw that?"

He smiled and shook his head. "No, no, I wasn't there. I couldn't make it last minute. I heard about everything from my wife on the local news."

I felt the world tilt. "It's . . . on the news?"

"Yes. The media can be such vultures, you know." Words kept coming out of his mouth, but I couldn't hear them. I was just going

down

stop.

:-)

I woke up in a white room with the man and Sally waiting for me. "Did I go to hospital too?" I asked, sitting up on my elbows.

Sally laughed. It was melodious, sweet. "No, you're in the nurse's office. You fainted."

"My fault, really," the man said. "Hello, Vincent. I'm Dr Jacobs. We were talking about Patton and the news coverage when you fainted."

Everything came back to me. Patton being poisoned was on the news.

"I've seen Ernest's face all over the internet in the past few hours. More than he deserves," Sally said, toying with the sleeve of her school blazer like a cat toying with a mouse.

"Why is his face on the internet?" I asked.

"He got arrested, Vincent. The picture of him is his mugshot," Dr Jacobs said.

"I hope he suffers for what he did to Patton." Sally's voice was deeper with anger, syllables being growled out. "It's obvious why he did it. Patton was naturally incredible and charming and sweet, and all he had to impress people with was his parents' money."

"Miss Kinley!" Dr Jacobs gasped.

"Everybody knows it! Well, except Vincent here, of course, but he knows now."

"Miss Kinley, there is a time and a place for this kind of talk," the nurse said. I'd honestly forgotten she was there. "If you and your friend really want to talk about recent events, then you can do so somewhere else. Anywhere else, really. Patton was a sweet soul."

I always heard people say stuff like that about Patton. He made a place better. He was so smart. He was the sweetest young man. He was the sort of kid you wanted your kid to be like.

I already knew what people said about me. It used to be the same word every time from different mouths, getting progressively worse every time.

"Who?"

James was meaner about it. "Dude, you're the lamest teenage boy in the world. And I've met some pretty lame ones."

"I'll escort Vincent out of the school once he's ready to leave," Sally said, snapping me back to reality. "Why did you come here, exactly?"

All eyes were on me. "Just . . . wanted to talk about the events that happened with someone who knew Patton in school. Sally's was the only name he mentioned."

"Of course. Do whatever you need to cope with this horrible situation," Dr Jacobs said. "Lots of students have been to counselling over this event. Patton had a wide and strong impact over everyone."

"He's not dead, you know!" I yelled. Everyone stared at me. "He's in a medically induced coma, but he's not dead! He could live!"

"Vincent's right. We shouldn't treat Patton like he's already died," Sally agreed. "Come on. This isn't exactly a nice place to be."

She took my wrist like I was a little kid and dragged me out of the school, people whispering off to the sides as they stared at us. She kept dragging me until we got to a convenience store. "Thanks for getting me out of here," I said, once we were out of sight.

Sally looked at me with a hardened expression on her face. "Why did you really come here?"

"What?"

"Why did you really come here?" she repeated. "I know that you didn't really come here for Patton, no matter what you told Dr Jacobs. Spoiler alert: you look away when you lie. Why are you really here?"

"I wanted to look for you. You know all these people and you've definitely met this Ernest guy already. Also . . . also . . ." My words failed me.

"Spit it out!" Sally grabbed my neck and squeezed for a cruel, hard second. This must be what Patton felt when the poison began to take effect.

"I don't think Ernest did it!" I blurted out. Sally let go of me in surprise. "It's stupid, but it got cleared up so easily! I keep thinking about it!"

Sally stood still. She was giving me a weird look. Then she smiled.

"You know something, Vincent?" she asked, smiling at me. "I was thinking the exact same thing."

:-)

A few minutes later, we had exchanged Instagram details and phone numbers, and I was walking to the bus stop to get home. Something was off about what happened to Patton. Ernest seemed like a prick, but he wasn't a murderer. Maybe he was just an idiot who hated Patton and wasn't very personable. But that just left so many questions.

If Ernest didn't do it, who did? Why would they frame Ernest? And why would they hurt Patton?

If you want to read the other chapters, see Masterlist.

#creative writing #my writing #writing inspiration #writers on tumblr #writers #writing #writeblr #writerscommunity #the poisoned prodigy #murder mystery

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davesbigwhirlwind · 2 years

Text

Maturing Fast - Part 2

I spent the weekend dreading what Monday would bring. I'd spent the weekend trying to find ways to hide the extreme nerdiness of the haircut that had been inflicted on me. As much as I pulled on strands of hair or tried to brush it in different ways, it was impossible to stop the hair from showing what it was - a very short, very old fashioned, very tragic haircut.

Early on Monday, I was woken by my dad and sent to have a shower. When I came out my uniform had been set out for me. I put on the underwear and shirt and coarse, heavy, unfashionably cut trousers but begged for some leniency to be able to wear my trainers - this fell on deaf ears, and the shiny formal shoes soon restricted my feet and were tightly tied. A school tie was then fastened around my neck enveloping my whole body in formality that felt so alien. I was then directed back to the bathroom, as my dad said "right, let's get this hair sorted." I looked in the mirror. My now whispy, lame hair clung to my head having no real option but to lie down either side of the artificial parting that the barber had so helpfully carved into my head. It looked so bad. Tragic. It bore no resemblance to the glorious hair that had been on my head just days before. My dad opened the bathroom cabinet. My heart sank yet further (which, by this point I thought was already at rock bottom). He pulled out a jar of pomade that he used on his own hair. "You'll be using this each day to keep your hair looking smart". I started begging for a reprieve from this final step in transforming me into a full on 15 year old bank manager. The begging failed. A large dollop of pomade was worked through my hair as my dad showed me how to style it using a comb, and creating the small wave at the front. I stared in the mirror. The bathroom light shone on my now darkened, sleek hair that showed up every ridge of hair that the comb had created through the gentle wave of the executive hairstyle. The bleak part line running down my head making me look like a total geek, while the lack of volume of hair and the loss of my sideburns made my head look so small and weedy. I was too nervous to eat breakfast. So my dad took the opportunity to run through some rules that my parents had thoughtfully created. I was to wear the full uniform all day at school. If I were to mess up my hair or uniform, there would be consequences, and if I wanted to stop being grounded, I'd better adhere. I was to be polite and courteous to all...and so the rules went on. I was also told that one of my parents would drop me off at school and pick me up each day to make sure I didn't get into trouble. I had no choice but to agree. Finally my mum stuck the final knife in - "and you'll wear these" as she handed me the glasses that had been bought for me 18 months earlier, which I did badly need but had been far too vain to wear. I started to protest but my mum gave me her look, and I knew better than to argue further.

I put on the glasses. They weighed down my face, acting as another reminder (as if I needed it) of how geeky I now looked. They were big gold aviator style glasses with thick lenses that shrunk my eyes. While these had been fairly fashionable a couple of years ago, fashion had moved on to smaller round glasses, and even those with worse eyesight had far thinner lenses than these. Only a boy who didn't care about style - or, more often, older men - wore these now. My dad handed me my blazer. I grudgingly put it on. "You look really good" he said as he led me over to the long mirror to have a look. I really didn't want to look. It was like a real life horror story. I looked up and there was the strange boy-man looking at me who looked horrified. Scared. With my glasses on it felt like the reality was even bigger. Here was an exceptionally nerdy looking boy who looked like he's trying to go under-cover as some sort of city executive but blatantly being just a child. Then it hit me, my mature teenage look had been stripped away. Where as people might have previously thought of me as maybe being 16 or 17, I now looked much younger and like I was auditioning to be a child in the royal family - even Prince William who had previously had a style that could be classed as similar to my new look (though without all the grease, and quite a bit longer), now sported a more fashionable centre parting. I really was alone with this hairstyle and lack of fashion sense. My face now being devoid of all facial hair looked thin and pale, while my ears now stuck out, and my eyes looked weird being slightly obscured by the reflection in my glasses, and the shrinking of my eyes that they caused. This reflection was matched by the shine on my shoes and drew attention to the military crease of my dowdy trousers. But the biggest pity I felt was that for what sat on the top of my head. Even a lego head man - despite sharing the ridiculous conservative side parting - had more hair than was left on my head. And despite being made out of plastic, the lego man couldn't even begin to compete with the shine of my hair that was cruelly fashioned into a short slick joke of a haircut that I was going to have to endure for goodness knows how many weeks until it started to grow out. Even walking from the house to the car I felt exceptionally conspicuous with my enforced new look being shown off to the world. From the clomp of the soles of my formal shoes announcing my presence, to the sheen of my businessman's haircut displaying the sheer brutal outdated part and quiff that now defined me. The short drive to school was unbearable. My mum dropped me off at the end of the road, and reminded me to behave and follow the rules. I grunted and left the car. As soon as I was round the corner I ruffled up my hair as best I could. It still looked awful, but at least it looked a bit dishevelled, even though it was clear still a short haircut, but maybe not the side parting that my elders saw fit to inflict on me. I grab a baseball cap out of my bag which also contained my trainers which quickly got swapped for my horrific new shoes. The glasses and blazer got stuffed in the bag too, and the tie got loosened. I walked through the gates and ran straight into my friends. Straight away they clocked that my sideburns had disappeared. One of them grabbed my hat. There was a momentary hush before they all started laughing. Had I got hit by a lawnmower? Had something gone horrifically wrong that I now had a haircut so short but slightly longer in some places than others, and was that some sort of line running down my head...? These quips continued periodically through the day. It was bad, but it could have been worse. I walked out of school with my friends and walked straight into my dad who was waiting right outside. I took one look at him and saw his anger. I then remembered what I'd done. I definitely didn't look like I had when I'd left the house. Rules had been broken. I was for it now.

#nerdification #geek #forced makeover #tf story #thickglasses

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