#rooster x f!reader
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NCIS // Bradley Bradshaw
Summary: Bradley Bradshaw knows when his soon to be wife shows up randomly on Friday evening at the Hard Deck it can’t be good. But just how bad could things really be, right?
Warnings: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x NCIS reader. Angst, Fluff. A little bit of action.
Word Count: 8.2k
Author Note: I’m glad you all had such a positive response to this idea. Here’s a one shot to say thank you for being absolute legends. Might even be open to doing more if this does well.
“What’s got you all twisted?” Rooster smirked as he watched Hangman glare down the pool table. Missing his shot by a mile. The usual confidence ridden aviator had seemingly shrunk into a hermit style shell for the last half an hour or so. Rooster had walked in half way through the game. Settling into his surroundings with a beer and a side of fries on the way.
Hangman didn’t even bother with a response, simply ignoring the question all together as he lined up another shot at redemption.
“Oh he tried to make a move on the civ sitting at the bar—she really knocked him down a peg.” Javy tried to hide his content. He always enjoyed when his best friend learnt a lesson or two. Not everyone was obsessed with Jake Hangman Seresin—and quite frankly? Sometimes he needed to be humbled. And humble Hangman you did indeed.
“Which one?” Rooster asked as he turned around, his eyes immediately landing on you as you sat by yourself. Content with the beer in front of you. Clearly working a case. “You know what? Never mind—I already have a gut feeling.” Finishing the rest of the beer Hangman had so graciously ordered last round, Rooster really did try and play it cool as he took strides to get to you. Trying to bury the fact if he had to he’d move goddamn mountains to get to you. His best friend. His fiancé. None of the team knew about Bradley Bradshaw's love life. He hadn’t found the right time to introduce you to the squad. His colleagues, friends. He was trying to, honestly. But with your line of work? It was becoming increasingly hard to pin you down.
As Rooster made his way over to you by the bar. Pushing past people who got in his way absentmindedly—you spotted him. Sending him a smirk that he’d missed seeing in person. FaceTime just didn’t do your beauty justice. Looking at your fiancé so helplessly stunned for only a split second before you forced yourself to remain calm. Rooster thought back to the first time he met you.
You hated being on carriers. For an NCIS agent, being aboard was a big part of your job description. It was something that couldn't be avoided, although you really did try. It wasn't that you weren't good on ships or got nauseous from the motion of the ocean, no. It was something far less exhilarating than throwing up at any given moment in front of whoever had fallen victim to the sight of your breakfast, lunch and or dinner making a quick escape.
It was the fact you never knew where on earth you were fucking going. And that really sucked.
Bradley Bradshaw had seen you going around in circles for the last forty five minutes. He’d been watching you from a distance. First he saw you when he was going over his Super Hornet. Checking its systems, the landing gear, the tags. All the good stuff. Then he saw you in the galley, looking confused and almost overwhelmed with the amount of crew that had filled in for dinner. And the last time Rooster saw you before he decided enough was enough? Was when he saw you heading down towards the engine room… What the hell were you doing? Were you–lost?
“Ma’am you aren’t lost are you?” Bradley Bradshaw considered himself a confident man when it came to talking to women, but for a moment you made it hard to formulate another sentence when you turned around to face him. Completely knocking the wind out of him with the way you looked so helplessly stunned. “Because if you are, I'm more than happy to help.” Yep. That was the moment Bradley Bradshaw knew he wanted you in his life.
“I'm good, thanks.” Shrugging the sailor off, it wasn't that you didn't want help. You just had too much pride to admit you were in fact. Lost. Rooster watched with an all knowing smirk as you turned around, heading straight to what he knew to be a deadend towards the laundry room. Unless that was what you had been looking for the entire time? Bradley knew you would have to pivot your way back past him. Opting to stay put, leaning against the hull with his arms crossed waiting for you to make your appearance.
Which you inevitably had to do because you were fucking lost. Sending the sailor with the cute smirk a look when you met him back where he stood originally. Stopping right next to Bradley as he smirked down at you. All Knowing.
“Okay, so maybe I am lost.” He smelt of pear and freesia. The delectable fresh scent that could be bottled and sold. It reminded you of home. “I'm looking for my room, 507.” Bradley raised his eyebrows in disbelief. Had you been wondering the entirety of the carrier trying to look for the dorms and bunks and hadn’t bothered to stop and ask a single soul for help. “The captain said my stuff had already been dropped off but I'm so disorientated.”
“First time on a carrier ma’am?” Rooster asked kindly as he walked with you in the complete opposite direction to where you had originally been going. Huh, you really were lost.
“Would you believe me if I said no?” Rooster chuckled quietly to himself at your response. “No, I do this more often than not, I should be used to this whole, ant hill.” You tried to explain as you walked side by side, not really in a hurry to get where you were going. Rooster couldn't have known you were NCIS. You were just in your blue jeans, white T and oversized corduroy jacket. There was nothing about you that screamed, ‘Hey I’m a federal agent, stop drop and put your damn hands up.’ “But I do prefer frigates, the occasional patrol boat.”
“So what brought you aboard the HMAS Carlton?” Rooster wasn’t expecting the answer you gave him. From time to time the Navy would accompany researchers and scientists to remote islands, he just assumed perhaps you were the latest one. But no.
“Uh, I’m here making sure that Clarence Diver who was stung by that group of Irukandji jellyfish was just that.” There were some suspicious toxins found in his bloodstream. “I’m Special Agent Y/n Gibbs with the NCIS.” Oh my fucking Christ Rooster was sure he was going into cardiac arrest. Why did you have to be NCIS? “Nice to meet you—“ Clearing your thirst as you paused in your stride. Sticking your hand out to shake the sailors hand who’d stopped to help you.
“Uh Bradley ma’am, Bradley Bradshaw.” Rooster stuck his hand out to meet yours. “Everyone calls me Rooster—“ You weren’t sure when Rooster had dropped your hand, or when you had started walking again. But you had. Side by side.
“Let me guess, you some kinda of cadet? A semen perhaps?” This was Rooster's first posting on a carrier. He was fresh out of the academy and had been abroad for six months. You had a glint in your eye, something worth exploring even though the idea of pursuing a Naval Criminal Investigation Agent scared the ever living Christ out of him.
“I uh—I fly an F-18 Agent Gibbs, I’m a Naval Aviator.” He was so proud of himself. I mean who else was around to be proud of him? So he had to be, for his own sanity. Stopping right in front of the door that read 507. “Guess this is where I leave you—“ news flash, it wasn't. Instantly smitten by the way you softly nodded in response. Pressing your lips together with a small frown.
“Yeah I guess it is huh?” Silence lingered for a moment as you worked up the courage to ask Rooster to hang around. Making up a totally fabricated but believable excuse he’d later find out was all so you could spend a little more time with him. “But now I’ve got no idea how to get back to the galley and I seem to have a pretty good tour guide.”
��Special Agent Gibbs, what on earth are you doing here?” Rooster taunted your official title as he slung his arm around your shoulders. Slumped over the bar as your eyes scanned the bar like a Hawk. “Heard you put Hangman in his place?”
“What the hell is a Hangman?” Your hand came up to grab Roosters softly, your thumb softly working to massage his palm. Turning your head to gently leave a subtle yet lingering kiss on his knuckles. “Oh wait—“ You remembered from conversations you’d had with Bradley in the past. “He’s the guy right, the super cocky one?” Clicking your fingers and squeezing your eyes tight as you tried to place a name to a call sign. “Jack, No—Jake!” Beaming, Bradley kissed your temple.
The sight of Bradshaw and you hitting it off so well sent Jake into a fit. Until he realised you must have been the girl Rooster had been talking about after the uranium mission. The one he wasn’t going to let get away.
“Woah look at you go detective, case closed in a whole minute.” Bradley taunted as he stood beside your barstool. “But seriously, as good as it is to see you here—you can’t be here for something good, it’s Friday baby—“ It was true. Usually wherever you ended up in the United States or on any US naval vessel didn’t usually come with good tidings. The Hard Deck in Miramar was no exception to that rule.
“You know that body that washed up about a week ago a few clicks up the beach?” You mumbled into the neck of your beer bottle as you brought it to your lips. Taking a small sip. “Intelligence believes the man responsible for that is here—and of course where else is there to go in Fraightertown but the most popular hang out point?”
“And you didn't bother to let me know you were coming?” Rooster teased as his hand slipped up your side, featherlike. Leaving goosebumps to rise in the wake of his fingertips. “Could’ve used the heads up.”
“Why? Need a change of pants, Lieutenant?’ It was the way you implied you so easily got Rooster where he needed to be that had his head spinning. You weren't wrong and he surely was feeling a little more restricted. But how could he not be when you were looking so fine. “Pretty sure I've got a pair of tracksuit pants in my carry on that might fit–might be pushing it though.” Winking as you took another sip of your beer. “Think they're grey even–” Roosters hand brushed against your hip. His eyes widened quickly at the realisation. Holy shit you were packing?
“You don’t have a gun in here do you?” Patting your shoulders, Bradley let his hands travel down your back, your gun Halsted. “Shit—you can’t bring a gun in here!!” Rooster's eyes bugged out of his head even more as he sat down beside you on the empty bar stool. “You gonna pepper the place or something? what the hell!” Guns always made Rooster a little uneasy and uncomfortable. But you were still caught up on his first statement.
“You know I’m a federal agent right?” Reminding your soon to be husband of your career choice. “I can bring a gun anywhere I damn please—“ Not that you would, but the idea that you could always did something weird to Rooster. Mentally and sexually.
“You scare the shit out of me.” He should have corrected himself, it wasn’t you that scared him. It was your damn job. Everyone he’d ever met had always told him what he did for a living had to be frightening. But you? Something about the way you so effortlessly did your job without a care in the world, blasé and effective? That scared Rooster. That was terrifying.
“Then leave me to do my job.” Rooster wrapped his leg around one of the legs of your bar stool. Dragging you closer to where he sat. He needed to be closer, needed you closer. “Rooster, honey—I’m in the middle of something here.” You played it off that Rooster was being an annoyance, but really? You loved the cat and mouse dynamic you always had. Loved him with all your heart.
“You got back up in here?” Bradley’s voice softened as his eyes trailed from your eyes to your lips and back to your eyes. Drinking in the sight of you. It was out of worry that he asked, a deep rooted concern for your well-being. “I’m not leaving this stool if you don’t have back up.”
“DiNozzo is by the jukebox.” Tilting your head Dinozzo’s way Bradley followed the direction you had pointed him in. A small wave of peace lapping at his heart. “I’m fine Roo, you don’t have to worry about me—“ You were about to mention the van out the front that held more agents, but Rooster didn't let you finish before he was interrupting.
“Doesn’t stop me though.” Rooster was quick to quip, leaning in closer to kiss your forehead as you ducked to hide your smirk. Cheeks heating with the love that flooded your system. “Worry about you all the time.”
You and Rooster had been together for a total of three weeks when he first got a real glimpse into just how dangerous your job could really be. How it so easily threatened to take you away from him. He’d been called to TopGun. An elite school for the top one percent of pilots. Its purpose was to teach the lost art of aerial combat and to ensure that the handful of men and women who graduated were the best fighter pilots in the world.
As Rooster went about his day, training exercise after the other—Admirial Bates was calling him down with urgency.
“Theres someone on the line for you calling from the Veterans affair’s medical centre—“ Rooster couldn’t place that hospital geographically until Warlock continued. “Seems as though your a registered emergency contact for a Y/n Gibbs?” Washington, that’s where the Veterans affairs hospital was.
“Uh—yeah.” Rooster couldn’t think straight. “I'm clear for landing?” He asked range control before he made any effort to turn around. With a confirmed green light Rooster headed in. He was in the administration building of the base in no time. His chest panting. A thin layer of sweat on his forehead. Panic rising to the surface as he held the phone to his ear.
“This is Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw—“
“Hi Bradley, I’m just calling to let you know we’ve had a miss Gibbs present to the emergency department with a bullet wound to her left thigh—“ Rooster swore he forgot how to breathe as his knuckles went white as the sheer hip he held around the phone. “She’s had to go in for surgery but we’re incredibly hopeful it’s a set standard procedure, just need to remove some of the shrapnel that broke apart.”
“Can you get her to call me when she’s out?” All he wanted to do was hear your voice. “Is she okay?” When did he start crying? Why were his cheeks wet? Blinking away the tears that still threatened to spill over his waterline.
“Absolutely—” The admin assistant chuckled to herself, remembering how reluctant you’d been. “She walked herself in very reluctantly.” Rooster rolled his eyes at the thought of you not taking care of yourself. Of fucking course you’d shug this off as no big deal. “An older man brought her in, signed as Anthony DiNozzo?” That checked out, he’d been your partner since you transferred to your dads division. “Shes in good spirits and good hands, should be out shortly–ill get her to give you abuzz when she's out and feeling a little less dazed.”
That's exactly what the nurse had done. Once you were feeling up to it you called Bradley from your cell. Sitting alone in your hospital room–they wanted to keep you in overnight for observation. You understood, but home just seemed like a much better place to be. Besides, you still had work to do.
“Are you alright? What the hell happened!?” Rooster bellowed into his phone as he sat on the bench in the locker room, he was just finishing up for the day.
“Hi baby, nice to hear your voice too–” You taunted with a slight groan as you tried to move your leg out from under the lightweight blanket. “Im fine, just need to work on my reflexes a little.”
“You were shot Y/n I think you need to work on more than your reflexes, perhaps your proximity to people who want to kill you?” Rooster didn't mean to snap at you, he was just worried. “Since when am I your emergency contact anyway? I thought it would have been your dad or something?”
“Well I mean if you don't wanna be I can change it?” Your tone had softened as you looked down at your leg, wondering how differently this conversation would have been going if that bullet had hit you somewhere else. Or if this conversation would be happening at all. “I just thought you might wanna be.”
“No I do–” Bradley paused for a moment as he swallowed the lump in his chest. “I just worry about you.” He knew that when he first met you you were only a rooky, that you'd get assigned mundane cases that weren't all that life threatening and serious. Like the Irukandji jellyfish guy who'd been doing drugs onboard the Carlton. But as the years went on and you gained more confidence and experience, the less and less you were assigned the meek role of crossing T’s and dotting i’s. You were a full blown field agent and until the moment Bradley Bradshaw got the call to say you'd been injured? He hadnt really put alot of thought into it. “I guess I just never really thought enough about how dangerous your job had become.”
“Says the one who's currently learning the art of aerial combat and defensive manoeuvres.” Yep, you had him there. Rooster knew his job was dangerous, he’d learnt to accept that a long time ago, as did you. Even when you had just been close friends you had to accept the fact Bradley might get deployed somewhere and not come home. But yours had kinda crept up on him. He’d never had to process that kind of worry before. Never knew how gut wrenching the feeling could be. He now knew what his mother had meant when the sick feeling just never really went away. The constant fear that lived rent free in the back of her mind about his dad, about him. “Listen Bradshaw, I'm fine– you don't gotta worry about me.”
“Doesn’t stop me though.” Rooster was quick to quip, leaning his back against his locker willing the moment he could wrap his arms around you to come sooner. He’s asked Admiral Bates for a compassionate leave of absence to go be with you. But he was told unless someone was dead or dying he could very much forget that he even asked. “I’ll worry about you all the time.”
“I can assure you, I know what I'm doing, Bradshaw.” Sitting back upright as you pulled away, finishing the rest of your beer in one final swig. “DiNozzo I can't quite speak on behalf of.” Your tone confused as your eyes followed the direction he was hastily walking, following a man across the length of the Hard Deck. Hot on his tail. His hand going to ghost his holster as he pushed past people who flocked in his way. “Oh fuck hang on–” Jumping to your feet in an instant as you watched the man DiNozzo had identified as Bodmin wrap his arm around the neck of one of the Naval Aviators sitting peacefully at one of the round tables. Rooster felt sick to his stomach as he stood, unable to comprehend what was going on. What had poor Bob done to be brought into this. Dragged to his feet as his hands came up to grasp the man's forearms. A gun to his temple quickly escalated the situation ten fold. “NCIS DROP YOUR WEAPON!!” Shouting as you drew your weapon from your hoster, holding it at eye height. “I said drop your weapon!!” Jake Seresin had been taken aback by only a few things in his life– this? Oh this took the goddamn cake. Bradshaw with an NCIS Agent? Never in a million years did he think that man had that kinda game.
“I DIDN'T KILL THAT MAN–” Bob swore he saw his life flash before his very eyes as he stood trapped between you and the man who had him by the next with the barrel of his gun pressing against his temple. Fear evident in his eyes. “I DIDN'T HAVE NOTHING TO DO WITH IT.” Well of course you did? Why else would you pull a gun out in the middle of a heavily populated bar and take a person hostage? Your inner thoughts didn’t match your next sentence, you needed to gain this guy's trust before there was brain matter splattered across the nice hardwood floor that probably had some historical value to it.
“That's great man, really–why don't we just have a bit of a chat about it, yeah?” Trying to deescalate the situation the best you could as you took a single step forward. Slowly and every so carefully. “I mean if you weren't involved you're pretty much a free man, why ruin that shooting this guy huh?” Rooster wanted to reach out and grab you. Stop you from getting any closer, fighter every fibre of his being that told him to protect you. His eyes welled with tears, mixing with fear and adrenaline as he turned his head slightly to where Hangman and Coyote stood in complete stillness—both trying just as hard as Rooster to comprehend the situation unfolding.
Shit like this didn’t happen at the fucking Hard Deck.
“I don’t fucking trust you!” You could very much tell this guy was losing his mind. Quickly. Making a rash decision to gain his trust immediately. Rooster watched from behind as you put your hands up in surrender. Your finger pushing the safety on your handgun before the clip fell to the ground.
“What about now?” Slowly but surely crouching as you placed the handgun on the ground, your eyes never for a second leaving Bob's eyes.
“Gibbs—“ DiNozzo gave you a warning look. Clearly unimpressed by your actions. Reckless and dangerous. Standing off to the right behind the man who had Bob hostage, his gun still drawn.
“I’m unarmed.” Standing just as slowly as you had crouched. Your hands came back to the height of your head. Palms facing the man. “Let’s talk, but first you gotta let him go—“
“Uh uh, not a chance sweetheart.” Damn. It was worth a shot right? The man, Daniel Bodmin had been identified as one of the men who’d been out finishing with marine Author Avery. He’d washed ashore five days after being reported missing when a storm hit off the coast of San Diago. It seemed pretty set standard until autopsy results came back that Avery had ingested five hundred grams of cocaine in small plastic bags. That mixed with the twenty four thousand dollars sim cash found stashed behind the backboard of one of the seats on the fishing boat made it suspiciously suspect Avery may have been killed. The smell of foul play in the air. “The second I don’t have leverage, you're partner here is gonna put a bullet in my spine.”
“I’m pretty tempted to just do it anyway—“ DiNozzo piped up as he eyes down the suspect. “I’m a pretty good shot.” It was your turn to send him the same warning look he’d given you. Your hands still up beside your head in surrender as you took another slow hesitant step forward. Rooster couldn’t breathe.
“Okay so I’ll make a trade, you let him go—and you take me. That way we can talk, just you and me. Outside.”
“NO!” Rooster shouted as he took a step towards you, his chest pressed against your back before you knew what was happening. “No way.”
“Lieutenant Bradshaw so help me god if you don’t step back this second I’ll have you arrested for interfering with a federal investigation.” It absolutely pained you to say but if Bradley wasn’t going to stand down you were going to make him one way or the other. “Go stand with Jake—“
“Y/n don’t do this!“ Leaning over your shoulder to whisper through gritted teeth, Bradley begged you, the love of his life—not to do this. “I can’t lose you too.”
“I will cuff you to the pool table if I have to—“ It was tough love, sure. But you needed to do your damn job before Bob or anyone else for that matter got hurt. “Go, now.” The tone you used had gone to a new level of seriousness, you weren’t messing around. If need be, you’d cuff Bradley Bradshaw to that pool table and leave him there if that meant he was out of your way. If it meant you could do your damn job.
With hesitance and his tail between his legs, Rooster backed away slowly. Eyeing off the man who had Bob by the next and a gun pressed to his temple. There would surely be an indent by the time he was let go. Hands up surrender style—Rooster made his way over to where Hangman and Coyote stood dumbfounded.
“Are your eyes glued to your head or some shit man?” Javy hissed as Rooster stood beside him. “The fuck is wrong with you!?”
“She’s the love of my life, man.” You couldn’t blame Rooster for acting in your defence. It was in his inherent nature to protect the ones he loved so deeply, tenderly and oh so fiercely. “My whole god damn world.” He’d never been so scared to lose you before this very moment. The fallout of the uranium mission had him racing across the west coast of the country all the way to Washington where you were based. Knowing he came an inch to losing his life. Far too many times to count. On the way back Rooster had confided in Hangman for a brief moment. Mentioning that there had been a girl, a girl so fierce and loving and kind that he couldn't help but to wonder how you'd mourn him. He didn't mention specific things like how long you’d know each other or how long you two had been dating. Rooster didn't mention what you did for work or even how he’d had his mothers engagement ring resized off another ring he’d stolen from your jewellery stand.
Rooster had simply told Jake Seresin that for a moment there if he hadn’t come after him and Pete? There would have been a heartbroken soul at his funeral. A woman so willing to pray for him, take his pain for him, save his soul from himself. Bradley Bradshaw had always been the one left behind, but that day he almost left you. And he wasn't ready to do that without having made it one thousand percent clear that you were the love of his life. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with you.
“Bradley? What–what are you doing here?” You questioned as he came through your front door. The key you'd gifted him nestled nicely in between all his other keys. Standing from your stop on the lounge–Youd been curled up watching Criminal Minds. “I thought you weren't supposed to be home for a few more days?” Taking massive strides to get to you Bradly simply engulfed you in a warm embrace. Hugging you so tightly because there were a few moments there he thought he'd never get to hug you again. Smell your hair, feel how cold you ran against his usually hot self.
“I couldn't wait to see you for one more second.” You could hear it in his voice, fuck. Something had happened, hadn't it. But more importantly you could see it in his eyes as he pulled away to meet your gaze in the dimly lit living room or your modest two bedroom two bathroom townhouse. Big enough for you and big enough for Bradley Bradshaw. With a little extra room for a guest here and there. “As soon as I was dismissed I jumped in the Bronco and headed straight for the airport.”
“That's a pretty long flight –” You were trying to get a read on the situation. What makes a man drive almost the entire West Coast of the United States so pressingly? What on earth was going on inside his head. “Do you want a coffee or something? I can make you a fresh pot?”
“Uh yeah that would be nice.” Bradley replied softly as he brought your forehead to his lips by pressing the palm of his hand to the back of your head. Letting you go as you wondered your way into the kitchen. The kettle already empty and waiting to be filled.
Rooster couldn't wait another second, he had to ask. Following you as he fished the small black velvet box that held his mothers engagement ring out of his pocket. Opening it and he stood behind you. Your hips pressing against the lip of the kitchen bench as you filled the kettle with a soft smile on your face. Bradley's hand came to lean against the countertop as he kissed your neck softly. Peppering small butterfly-like kisses up and down the juncture of your neck and shoulder.
“What do you think you're playing at?” Taunting the naval aviator who you’d missed so dearly as you turned around, leaning against the countertop as you held the kettle now full of water. It wasn't long before it had found its new home on the tiles. Water cascading across the gloss white flooring. Your hands coming up to cup your mouth. Jaw hung slack as a gasp escaped. Eyes wide with pure shock as Bradley Bradshaw trapped you against the countertop and himself. Holding the open velvet box in his hand with a soft smile and watery eyes. “Brad–”
“I almost didn't come home this time.” It was a sentence you never wanted to hear but were still thankful enough to hear him say it. It was and would always be better than the alternative. The home calls all military men and women dreaded. The one where officials inform you of a loss. “And it made me realise that I now have someone to leave behind.”
“Bradley–” You tried to speak as you cupped his cheeks. Pressing your forehead against his as you stood on the tips of your toes to meet his lips.
“Marry me Y/n, marry me.” It was a question you didn't need to ponder or consider saying anything but yes to immediately. Watching as Bradley dropped down to one knee before you. Following him down. “I love you so much and I just–Ican't stand the thought of not having you in my life for whatever time I have here.” It was the honest truth of the matter. “And I want you all to myself, as my wife, my best friend.
“Yes.” It was all you said before you crashed into him. Your arms wrapping around his neck as you both fell to the floor, rooster on his back in the mess of water as you fell atop him. Melting together as your tongues danced and hands roamed. “I love you so much more.”
“Do we have a deal?” Your voice brought Rooster back into the room. His eyes trained on you as you kept your hands up and your eyes on bob. He looked like he was keeping it together. But you knew from experience the second he was let go he could react in all kinds of ways. You'd seen it all. “I said do we have a deal?” You weren't in the mood for this, to play silly games with peoples lives. “Bodmin!”
“Yes yes we have a deal!” He shouted. Accepting your proposal for a trade off. your self for Bob. Slowly making your way over to him, you took Bob's hand in yours. He was shaking something chronic. He’d been in situations where life and death seemed not too far apart but this? He’d never be able to forget the feeling of having his life threatened by another person.
“Floyd?” You said Bob’s last name allowed, committing the name that was proudly displayed on his name badge to memory. “Got a first name?” You vaguely remembered, it was something that started with a B. Bradley had mentioned so many people it was hard to keep track sometimes.
“Bob–” huh, You finally had a face to go with the stories Bradley had told you late at night in the kitchen. One in particular coming to mind, the bird strike. “Robert.”
“Well Bob, today's your lucky day.” You were sure to take your time as the man released Bob from his grasp, pulling Bob towards you step by step. “If you call being held hostage lucky–”
“You don't have to do this, you know.” Bob whispered as you turned around, it was now you who had your back to Bodmin. With a gentle smile you let his hands drop. The barrel of the gun that had once been held to Bob’s temple now pressing against the small of your back. “You don't have to risk your life for me–”
“It's kinda my job.” That was all you really had time to say before you were being marched towards the front door of the Hard Deck. Rooster sent DiNozzo a look as if to ask what the hell was he doing just letting you play self sacrificing damsel. DiNozzo just shrugged, his gun still drawn and locked onto Bodmin's back from across the room. “How do you wanna do this Dan? You gonna shoot a lady in the back? You know thats considered murder right?” It was now that you were getting Daniel right where you needed him to be that you started playing mind games. “If you’re already going down for the murder of Avery you may as well go two for two right?” DiNozzo could hear everything you were saying through his ear piece. When he got the chance? He was gonna slap the god damn shit out of the back of your head for being so undeniably reckless. “You killed him for the money didn't you? You just didn't know where he’d stashed it. So you panicked.”
“What happened to innocent until proven guilty huh?”
“You held a gun to a naval aviator's head–you’re as good as done.”
“Shut up before I put a goddamn bullet in you–” Shoving you out the front door was probably the dumbest thing Daniel Bodmin could have done. Because as you stepped out onto the front deck of the Hard Deck bar? A few dozen of your agents had him surrounded. Within milliseconds.
Bradley's heart fell out his arse when he heard a single gunshot come from outside. Shouting from all over the place ensued as he ran to where he’d last seen you, right out the front door.
“Y/n!!” He was expecting the worst, to see you lying on the ground with a bullet between your eyes. But that's not what he saw. Far from it actually. Special Agent DiNozzo was hot on Rooster's tail. Fuck. This couldn't be happening, this was meant to be a routine god damn op.
To both men's surprise, you had your knee pressed into Daniel Bodmin's back. He was face down on the deck with his hands cuffed behind his back, his gun discarded. Looking up at Rooster with a smirk evident on your face as Daniel squired under the pressure you were forcing him down with.
“Hi fellas.” You beamed like nothing unorthodox had just taken place. “DiNozzo, what the hell took you so long man–?”
“I was trying to listen to what everyone on comms was saying but it got all jumbled.” DiNozzo explained as he holstered his gun. Leaning down to take over the apprehension of Daniel Bodmin. “All I heard was gett him outside then you started going all awol of me like some suicidal maniac.” Pulling the now detained suspect to his feet. “When we get back to Quantico you best believe Gibbs is gonna be pissed.”
“When is he ever not?” You replied with a sigh. Turning your attention to Rooster who stood off to the side. The entire squad looking out the windows, peeping eyes looking over the windowsills to catch a glimpse of the action happening outside. This had been the most exhilarating situation the Hard Deck Bar had ever seen. Penny swore she was about ready to sell the damn place. “I'm sorry I threatened to arrest you, you know I wou–” before you could finish your sentence Bradley’s hands were clasping your cheeks. Pulling you against him as he kissed you with so much love and admiration you could taste it.
“I’ve never been so fucking worried about you—“ Roosted kissed you deeper this time, he knew what he was playing at as well. The whole ‘let me kiss her so she can’t speak’ shtick. Only pulling away with enough time so he could. “You’ve told me this stuff seems so normal to you but I want you to know it’s not—it’s beyond dangerous and I can't believe how easily you put down your weapon.” Rooster was projecting his own insecurities about your job onto you. Placing your hand over your lips as he came back to kiss you. Colliding with your open palm.
“You have a medallion sitting over our fireplace because you defied direct orders and single handedly flew into enemy territory knowing damn well you didn't have the ammunition to fight back–all to save the lives of others.” Yep. You had him with that one. “What is the difference here? Spot it and I'll give you five bucks Bradshaw–” Rooster just pulled you into his chest. His arms wrapping around your shoulders, his chin resting on the top of your head. Looking out as the sun set lower and slower on the horizon.
“I guess there isn't much in it.”
***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~
Twenty minutes. That how much time had passed since Rooster saw you held at gun point, since he saw Bob held at gunpoint. It was standard protocol, you had Bob sitting at a nearby picnic table outside of the Hard Deck taking a witness statement.
“And you’re sure you’re alright? You don’t feel like you need to get checked out or anything?” You had your windbreaker one. The dark blue oversized jacket that proudly displayed NCIS on the back.
“No ma’am, thanks to you I’m in one peice.” You smiled softly at him, honestly you were just doing your job. “I didn’t know Rooster had a fiancée—“ You closed your little notepad before pocketing it in the back of your jean pocket. “Wish we’d met under different circumstances.”
“It is a little unorthodox isn’t it.” You chuckled, tapping Bob in the shoulder before making your way over to Rooster. He’d been watching you like a Hawk as you did your thing. Told people where to go and who to talk to, lead the investigation as NCIS agents went in and out of the Hard Deck. Talking to other witnesses for as many recollections as possible to aid the prosecution. “I’m thinking of staying until Tuesday if you feel like some company?” You mentioned as you approached Bradley, he stool with his arms crossed over his chest. Just admiring you from a far. He never really got the chance to watch you work. “If not I can always get a room at the motel down the road.”
“Well I usually don’t bring in strays—“ Taunting you as you bumped your hip against your finance’s playfully, your tongue sticking out against the inner part of your cheek as his smart ass comment. “But I’m sure I can make an exception.” You and Bradley had spoken a few times about the possibility of maybe buying a house in Freightertown now that he was there on more of a permanent basis. You’d keep the rental in Washington for convenience—but the idea would eventually see you come to San Diago as well. “You can’t get mad about the dishes piled as high as Everest in the sink though.”
“I’m not gonna say a word—“ Rooster swore he saw your nose grow an inch longer. He knew you’d say something about the mess, he’d let it get a little out of hand this week. He’d been starting early and finishing late—leaving little time for upkeep on the day to day basics.
“Agent Gibbs?” One of your Agents approached you followed by two men you’d never seen before in your life. “This is officer Radavic and Wilcox—NSA.”
“What’s NSA want with our case?” You questioned and the men showed you their badges and credentials. Rooster didn’t know if he should leave or stay. Choosing to stay as you crossed your arms across your chest.
“Daniel Bodmin was a foreign national with information considered a threat to the United States of America.” You couldn't believe what you were hearing. This entire case had been blown way out of the realm of what you originally thought it to be. “We figured we’d jump in, take things off your hands.” With a scoff and a small laugh you shook your head. Kicking your heel in the rough gravel underneath your shoe.
“This case is NCIS jurisdiction–regardless if Bodmin is of interest to NSA—“ Something was off, way off. If NSA was interested they would have made contact way before now. And they’d use the proper channels to do so, not just show up in Miramar unannounced. Perhaps you were too much like your father, or maybe you just didn’t believe the story from the get go.
“Well, I personally believe it would be in the best interest of the Naval Criminal Investigative Service to work with us, after all? We are on the same side.” Yeah, no. There was something incredibly off about these two. “Have you been able to find anything on–” Before the supposed NSA Agent had the chance to finish his sentence you were sending your shine directly between his legs. Pulling his shoulders forward into you as you did so. Immediately he went down like a sack of shit, groaning as his partner went at Rooster. Not knowing he wasn't NCIS.
“Hey woah what the–!” Rooster was pretty quick on the draw, you'd give your soon to be husband that. He didn't need your help when it came to defending himself. His knuckles would surely be bruised up slightly after he was done and the other agent was on the ground. “What are you doing! You heard the guy? You're on the same team?” Roosters eyes were as wide as saucers as he turned back to you, fixing his shirt after having laid the other agent on his ass. Unconscious.
“Im pretty sure he's not NSA–” Bending over to retrieve both their weapons as a few agents rushed to the scene. Taking them into custody.
“Pretty sure!?” Bradley shouted through gritted teeth. “Because you teed off on him like you were kicking a field goal!”
“Rooster, I've got a hunch they're working with Bodmin alright, they might be foreign oppritives—just slow your roll there.” Trying to calm your fiancé down as you dusted him off. Sand everywhere.
“Oh my gosh! Y/n, sweetheart, baby girl no you don't just kick a guy in the junk on a hunch–“ Rooster groaned as he held his stomach. “Gees, sometimes I don't even know you, who does that?” You shrugged it off with a chuckle, intertwining your arm with Roosters as yiu walked back into the Hard Deck—all eyes on you as you looked up. A good set of twelve eyes all locked onto you. “Uh, I think this might be a good time to introduce you to my colleagues here.” Rooster mumbled as he kissed the top of your head. Nodding in response you waved at everyone who just stood stunned, still processing what had happened earlier.
“You must be colleagues huh?”
***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~
“So how’d you know they were bogus?” You’d all been sitting around the pool table. You’d noticed pretty quickly just how close Bob had stayed to the side of the women who’d come racing to the Hard Deck not ten minutes after you’d placed Bodmin under arrest. When Bradley had introduced you she’d pulled you in for a hug, said thank you for saving Bob's life and told you her name was Nat.
“Theyre accents–” You replied to Coyote who just shook his head in disbelief. God you were cool. How on earth did Rooster manage to find a girl like you?
“Nope, they didn't have accents.” Rooster saw how everyone was looking at you like you were the coolest person they’d ever encountered. Flying high he decided to shoot you down for his own enjoyment. Bring you back down to earth where he and the commoners lived. Standing between Bradley legs as he sat on one of the barstools with your back against his chest. You turned as his arms came down from their home on your shoulders. His hands lingering on your hips.
“Rooster, sweetheart, baby boy.” You teased, knowing exactly what he was doing. “Do you know the difference between French open syllabic organisation and English archaic speech patterning?” Giving him a taste of his own medicine. He didn’t respond—simply smirking as he took a sip of his beer. Eyes never leaving yours. Fucking smart arse.
“What that old chestnut?” Hangman mumbled as he smirked into the beer bottle he held to his lips. The whole crew minus Bob were indulging in a few too many alcoholic beverages. “Nah, what the hell even is that?” Fuck—Rooster could count his lucky stars with you that was for damn sure. “They probably have some diplomatic unity or some bullshit.”
“That's exactly why we threw em in county.” A familiar voice entered the chat. “They’ll be lucky to even get a phone call by christmas. '' DiNozzo snickered as he picked up a handful of the peanuts sitting in a bowl on the edge of the pool table. Looking at him so disappointed and puzzled as to where he’d gone this whole time– He shot you a questioning look back. “What? What's that look for?”
“Where the hell have you been—?” It was a legitimate question you wanted an answer to. DiNozzo just frowned as he took the handful of nuts into his mouth.
“Escorting our perp into county, why? what did I miss?” Looking around, no one wanted to give him an answer. “I'm pretty sure we’re good here don't you think? Besides, I’m gonna head back to the motel and get a good rest in before giving our two NSA impersonators the old razzle dazzle tomorrow–” Bradley chuckled to himself as you lent back to him. His chin resting on your shoulder.
“Just don't let Agent Bradshaw here interrogate them.” You would soon have to get used to that. Special Agent Bradshaw. It sounded funny but in the best of ways. Like a new house. Sure it felt foregin at first but soon it would become a home. Rolling your eyes as you sighed dramatically.
“Why is that?” DiNozzo questioned with squinted eyes. “What did you do–?”
“She kicked one of the guys right in the non day plumes!” Bradley scoffed over your shoulder, feeling you pull away in defeat as you stood with your arms crossed, sending him a glare– telling him to get over it already. God you loved him. So much.
“No–” Anthony played into it. Holding his hands together to cover his crotch. “She didn’t–”
“Yep–Guy didn't even have his weapon out.” You couldn't believe how big of a deal Bradley was making out of this.
“Really!?” DiNozzo was flabbergasted. “Gibbs, that's just outright assault.” You didn't know who to stare at more, Anthony or Bradley as the group watched on with laughter and smirks.
“Mmhmm, right in the cul de sac, kicked him so hard it gave me a stomach ache.” Okay this was getting out of hand.
“So what!” Throwing your hands up in defeat. “Would it have been better if I pistol whipped him across the face?”
“YES!!” Every single man you stood with said allowed in unison. You couldn't believe it. Even Natasha rollered her eyes.
“I'd rather be held at gun point–” Bob pipped up as Phoenix softly slapped him in the chest with the back of her hand. The group couldn't help but to laugh, settling in soon after into their own conversations as you said bye to DiNozzo and turned all of your attention back to Rooster.
“You done?” Questioning his childishness you glared at him yet again with a soft smirk. “Or should I get that hotel room after all?”
“Oh No–” Bradley Bradshaw had never jumped from his seat so fast in his life. Finishing his beer as he did so. “No you're coming home with me.” kissing your cheek as he whispered in your ear. “I specifically remember you mentioning handcuffs and I don't know about you but I'm keen to play cops and robbers.”
Would you like to read more of NCIS Bradley? The series Masterlist is linked here
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Tags: @auroraboreallisfine @tigerfan24 @atarmychick007
#top gun bradley bradshaw#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw#rooster x f!reader#ncis imagine#top gun fandom#bradley bradshaw one shot#bradley bradshaw fanfiction#top gun maverick fanfiction
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Kinktober Day 17- Size Kink
warnings: college!au, frat boy bradley, frat party, alcohol consumption, dirty talk, no actual smut, size kink, 18+ minors dni
kinktober masterlist
main masterlist
Frat parties aren’t your usual scene, but your friends practically dragged you here, and subsequently left you on a couch alone to talk to some brunette girl who was sizing her up.
You’re slumped in the corner, nursing the drink in your hand. You don’t usually drink, and you can feel the one and a half drinks you’ve had getting to you.
It takes you a moment to realize that someone sat down next to you, and when you look up, they are already smiling at you. Bradley Bradshaw.
“Hey there,” he says, voice smooth and deep and it makes you feel warm all over.
“H-hi.”
To say you had a crush on him would be an understatement. You were head-over-heels, embarrassingly, hopelessly in love with him, and you have been since freshman year.
He was in your science lab first semester, and then you had your english and history classes with him second semester. He never sat next to you, never even talked to you unless he was forced to by group work, but that didn’t do anything to help your crush.
“What’re you doin’ over here by yourself?” he asks.
“My friend… she left a little bit ago. And I don’t really know anyone else here.”
Bradley frowns a little. “You know me.”
“Yeah but…” you gesture over to the crowd of his friends. Jake Seresin, Javy Machado, Mickey Garcia. The only one you have had anything to do with was Bob, but he’s an outsider of their group.
Bradley nods in understanding. “‘m sorry she left you. Do you want me to walk you home?”
Your eyes light up a bit. You definitely don’t want to be at this party any longer, and you’ve dreamed about walking hand in hand with Bradley on the way home a million times.
“Yeah, I’d like that,” you say, trying not to sound too eager.
Bradley stands up from the couch and holds out his hand to help you up. Apparently he is quiet the gentleman, because he catches you when you stumble.
“How much have you had to drink?“ he asks.
“N-not that much,” you reply shyly, feeling like the girl next door for being such a lightweight.
Rooster puts his arm around your waist to steady you as he leads to towards the door. His large, warm hand is splayed over your stomach and you can’t help the butterflies that bloom in your stomach.
He informs his friends where he is going, and then he’s opening the door for you. It’s chilly outside, and you dressed for a frat party, not an October night. You shiver, and he must feel the goosebumps on your arms because he moves away for a moment to take off his jacket.
“Oh, you don’t need to-”
“Just take it, it’s cold out.”
You don’t argue further, not that you really want to anyway. He holds out his jacket and lets you slip into it. It’s so big and warm, and you feel even fuzzier now, and you know it’s not from the alcohol.
The jacket’s sleeves hang down to cover your hands, and it smells like him. You never want to take it off.
“Thank you,” you say shyly, looking down at your feet.
“No problem, sweetheart.”
If Bradley’s hand wasn’t holding onto your waist, you would have collapsed onto the ground. You feel giddy and embarrassed and all of your dreams are coming true.
You walk in silence for a little bit. You stare down at the sidewalk in front of you, studying the cracks in the concrete to keep your mind off Bradley. Unbeknownst to you, Bradley is watching you the whole way.
“You look good in my jacket,” he says, breaking the silence.
“I do?” you ask.
“You look very good.”
There’s something in his voice that urges you to look up, and when you do, your knees threaten to buckle. His brown eyes are even darker, pupils wide as he looks down at you. You want to say something, you know you need to break the tension, but your brain short-circuits.
“You’re beautiful. Always thought that, but I never got a chance to tell you.”
You want to believe him, but everything is too perfect. This can’t be happening to you, especially not with Bradley Bradshaw.
“I think you’re drunk, Bradley,” you say quietly.
“Not drunk. Only had one beer tonight and that was hours ago. I’m not lying, honey. I think you’re gorgeous.”
Suddenly your eyes start to burn, and you feel like tears could fall at any moment.
“You’re so sweet and small… Look so goddamn good in my clothes.”
He stops you, and when you turn to ask him what he’s doing, he captures your lips in a kiss. You whine into it, not expecting it but certainly not minding. He kisses hard, claiming your lips and ruining you for anyone else.
Bradley’s hands find your hips and he holds them tightly as he kisses you. His hands don’t wander, but his fingers press into you like he wants to.
“Baby,” he says against your lips.
“Hmm?” you mumble.
“You taste so sweet.”
It’s your drink he’s tasting. You like them disgustingly sweet to cover up the taste of the alcohol, and now Bradley is getting drunk off of it too.
He breaks the kiss and you look up. Over his shoulder, you see your building. You look between your window and his eyes, trying to work up the courage to say it.
“Do you want to come inside?” you blurt out.
Bradley grins that heart stopping, pants soaking grin and nods, pulling you towards the building.
The journey up the stairs and through the door was clumsy and rushed, neither of you being able to wait to get the other alone. Once inside, Bradley shuts the door and instantly has you pressed against it.
He looks down at you, his hands on your hips and his knee between your thighs. He makes you feel so small, and you love it so much.
“You have no idea how bad I wanna fuck you, sweetheart,” Bradley confesses.
“I-I want it too.”
Thank god you have a single, because you don’t know what you’d do with yourself if a roommate interrupted this.
Bradley backs away and pulls his shirt off, revealing his sizable pecs and abs, the ones you’ve been drooling over for years. His jeans are low on his hips, and you follow the trail of hair under his navel.
You hear him chuckle, and you feel embarrassed that you ogled him like that. You close your eyes and lean your head back against the door, but you hear him tut in disapproval.
“Look at me, sweetheart. I want you to see me.”
He watches you intently as he undoes his pants, and in what has to be record time, he has his cock out and his pants kicked off.
Even though you’re the only one fully clothed, you feel more naked from the way Bradley is looking at you. His cock is huge, big in every way with a wet, flushed tip.
“That’s not gonna fit,” you say, and immediately regret it. Bradley seems to preen at that, a little ego stroking never hurts.
“Trust me, baby, it’ll fit. I have all night to warm you up and open you for me,” he smirks as he sneaks his fingers up your skirt and ghosts them over your panties. “This little cunt’s gonna take all of me, isn’t that right?”
“Yes, yes, I’ll take all of you.”
“Yeah, knew you’d be such a sweet little thing for me. God, you’re so small, I could just toss you around and use you however I want.”
He wouldn’t, of course, and you knew that, but the idea was the hottest thing in the world. You want nothing more than Bradley pushing you against the wall and using his size advantage to put you however he wants you.
“Please,” you gasp.
Bradley grabs your thigh and hooks your leg around his waist, pressing your clothed pussy to his hard cock.
“You don’t have to beg, honey. I’m gonna give you everything you need.”
#top gun#bradley bradshaw#rooster#rooster bradshaw#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw x reader#rooster x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw x f!reader#bradley bradshaw x female reader#rooster x female reader#rooster x f!reader#top gun: maverick#top gun smut#top gun fanfiction#top gun fanfic#kinktober 2022
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—𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐓 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄
frat!bradley bradshaw x f!reader
dagger squad college!au
summary: bradley meets the girl he believes to be his good luck charm at a party. the only problem is, he doesn't have a clue who she is or how to find her again.
wc: 2.1k
warning(s): 18+, fem!reader, no y/n (reader goes by nickname clover), a wild jake and ace appears, explicit swearing, alcohol, college parties, slight nudity, tattoos
the lucky one masterlist || find on ao3
𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊, 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃!
You hated your ex with a passion. You knew what he was doing the second you saw his arm around Allison freaking Simpson. Not only was she the dean’s daughter, but she was also one of the top students of their class.
In other words, she was everything you were not. Your ex was trying to prove a point and you hated that it was working.
Deep breathes, you remind yourself, thinking back to the meditation classes you took over the summer.
Your eye twitches at the sound of Allison’s obviously over exaggerated giggles. Tyler Jacobs was not that funny.
“He’s not worth your time,” a soft voice from beside you interrupts your glaring.
It was a girl you recognized from your classes over the years. Quiet, yet incredibly smart and snarky when need be. You’ve never actually talked to her much, but she was thoughtful and much more tolerable than a majority of your peers.
“You used to date Tyler Jacobs, right?” Apparently, she was also very observant.
You cringe at that. “Unfortunately.”
She hums, before returning her gaze to her notes. “I mean this in the nicest way possible, but you could do much better.”
Now that makes you laugh. “Thanks,” you send her a genuine smile.
You knew she was right. You could do so much better. Tyler was all you’ve known. Dating since high school, prom king and queen, the whole cliche. You just needed to expand your horizons.
After another grueling hour and a half of listening to your professor talk about god knows what, you’re more than relieved to finally be released from class.
The girl beside you packs up with haste, almost like she has somewhere to be.
“Hey, Ace, tell that boyfriend of yours that he can suck my dick!” Tyler yells after her.
“Go screw yourself, Jacobs,” she replies with a flash of her finger.
You wrap your arm around her, noticing the tension in her shoulders as you deliberately announce, “I’ve seen it and trust me, your boyfriend would not be impressed.”
The people around you snicker, making Tyler’s face turn red, and you smirk in satisfaction.
The girl, who you remember was called Ace, is laughing as you guide her out of the lecture hall.
“His face was priceless!” Ace says between laughs.
You shrug with a smile. “I only said what’s true!”
Ace shakes her head. “Amazing.”
A call of her name distracts her, and you both turn to see a tall, blond man jogging toward the both of you.
You won’t lie. He was incredibly good looking. But the way his gaze was set on Ace told you all you needed to know. “The boyfriend, I’m assuming?”
He wraps Ace up in his arms and she playfully rolls her eyes at his display of affection.
“The one and only,” he grins. “Jake Seresin, pleasure to meet you. It’s so nice seeing you branch out, Ace. She is so anti-social, I swear,” he murmurs from the side of his mouth.
She scoffs, smacking her boyfriend on the arm. “Shut up!”
You laugh along with the duo, your heart aching at how in love they were. Even if they didn’t know it yet, you could tell they would be together for a long time. You had a knack for noticing those kinds of things–relationships that were meant to last and matchmaking. You take pride in the fact that you were the one to set up your old high school math teacher with your favorite art teacher. Now, they were happily married and had two kids with one more on the way.
The one person you were unable to help in the love department, however, was yourself. How absolutely ironic.
You used to think Tyler Jacobs was the one. You imagined the two of you growing old together, having kids, and telling them the stories of how the two of you fell in love. Being with him since your freshman year of high school and knowing him since kindergarten made you truly believe that he was the love of your life.
Up until a month ago, when everything came crashing down and everything you thought you knew turned out to be a lie.
“Hey, you should come to the Delta Chi party this weekend,” Jake offers, noticing the sudden lull in conversation.
Ace nods with a smile. “Yeah, something to take your mind off that ex of yours.”
You eye Jake, unable to contain your growing grin. “A frat party?”
Jake winks. “Only the best frat on campus.”
Ace was right, you needed to take your mind off Tyler. You wanted to prove that you didn’t need him–that you never did. Besides, when did you ever say no to a party? “Alright, I’ll be there.”
»»————- ♣︎ ————-««
You’ve been to so many parties, the sweaty bodies and loud music no longer deter you.
Pushing your way through the crowd, you say hi to some familiar faces as you make your way to the drinks.
One of the Delta Chi guys gives you a cup full of cheap beer, which you gladly accept. You continue to wander around the house, only being there once before. With Tyler.
Just even thinking of him makes you nauseous. Downing the rest of your cup, you go back to the keg, desperate for another drink.
Two becomes three.
Three becomes four.
Until, eventually, you’ve lost count and the only thing you can feel is the warmth of the alcohol and the beating of the bass in your chest.
You hardly remember Tyler and Allison nor the aching heartbreak you’ve been going through for over a month now.
It was just you and the dance floor. And maybe a few frat guys and sorority girls you didn’t know the names of but danced with anyways.
Your cup was empty again and you groaned at the realization. You stumble your way back to the drink station, no longer able to control your heavy footsteps and swinging limbs.
Your vision is so hazy that you don’t see the body you haphazardly bump into.
“Holy shit!” the person says as you catch yourself on the table.
He turns around with wide, doe-like eyes. Even through the horribly lit area and hue from the alcohol, you could tell that the guy in front of you was hot. His slightly curly hair was plastered to his forehead through the sheen of sweat that glistened on his skin. You could tell he was muscular, even under the ridiculous Hawaiian shirt he was wearing. And his eyes… you couldn’t pinpoint the exact color they were due to the poor lighting, but they were what you would describe as kind.
He gapes at you like a fish out of water. You catch yourself giggling at his flustered state.
“Are you some kind of good luck charm or something?” He blurts out.
“What?” you slur. You boldly grab his forearm in order to steady yourself from swaying too much. You bite your tongue to hold back a sigh as the smell of cinnamon and faint cologne floods your senses.
“I said, are you some kind of good luck charm or something? Because I just won that shit!” He gestures sloppily to the table where a game of beer pong was set up.
“No way!” You bounce on your toes, feeling giddy from the excitement oozing off the guy in front of you.
He nods vigorously. “I was about to make that shot, but then you bumped into me and I still got it in. That was awesome. You are a good luck charm! You’re like a… like a…”
Your eyes light up as he continues to think. “Like a four leafed clover?”
He snaps his fingers. “Yeah!”
A mischievous grin tugs at your lips while your fingers tug your shirt upwards. Rolling the loose tee you have on so it’s resting just right above your bra, you turn. “You mean like this?”
His gaze zeroes in on the image inked below your right breast, on the edge of your rib cage. There lies a delicately etched four leaf clover.
The tug in your chest is palpable. The pull this guy has on you is strange, yet welcomed. It was unlike anything you’ve felt before, even with Tyler. You wanted to beckon him closer. You wanted him to take his fingers on his large hand and delicately trace the outline of where you are most vulnerable.
Your grip on your shirt loosens as it rolls back down your chest to your abdomen, suddenly feeling self conscious of how forward you were. Great, you just met the guy and now you’re gonna scare him away.
He opens his mouth to speak, gaze glancing back up to meet yours, clearly rendered speechless by the unexpected action before him.
“Yo, Rooster! Come on, someone’s trying to beat your time on the keg!”
He’s interrupted by another guy who shakes his shoulders and pulls him away without another word.
He gives you one last look over his shoulder, one apologetic and full of longing before you lose him in the crowd.
Rooster. What a strange nickname.
You just hope your sober self remembers it tomorrow.
»»————- ♣︎ ————-««
Bradley can’t tell if the pounding is in his head or coming from his bedroom door. His head feels like a bowling ball and he can barely open his eyes without feeling like he was getting stabbed through his skull.
He rolls over, throwing his pillow over his head. He prays that whoever is on the other side of the door gets the hint and leaves him alone.
Much to his dismay, the person ends up inviting themself in anyway.
“Rise and shine, sleeping beauty! Welcome back to the land of the living,” Jake’s irritating Texas drawl rings through his ears.
Bradley groans, tossing his pillow lamely at him. “Go. Away.”
“No can do, Bradshaw. Up! Up! Up!” He shouts, clapping his hands in front of Bradley’s face like a drill sergeant.
Bradley wishes it were Jake in his place right now. In another time, it was Jake that was in his place. Bradley would be the one ushering him and his latest fling out of bed. When he started dating Ace, Jake changed. She straightened him up—made him lose the fuck boy act and be more respectful. Now it was time for Jake to have his fun. He hates how much Jake is enjoying Bradley being on the other end of the stick.
“Go away before I rip your dick off,” Bradley threatens with narrowed eyes.
Jake doesn’t take Bradley’s comment the way he wanted him to. His cackle and the rush of sunlight that enters the room makes Bradley whine pathetically. Even with his eyes squeezed shut, the light from outside was burning through his eyelids.
“Reuben cooked breakfast. Hurry up if you want to eat anything other than bread crusts,” Jake announces before, not so softly, shutting his bedroom door.
Bradley throws his pillow back over his head to block out all the light and sighs. Every time they host a party, he swears that he won’t drink too much. And every time without fail, he ends up blackout drunk and in bed with a sorority girl. Which is why he’s surprised that, for once, he can actually remember the night before. There wasn’t much significance to last night. Just like any other Friday, Delta Chi was throwing another rager. All his friends were there as well as the usual sororities. However, last night at the beer pong table was embedded into his mind.
He could still smell the perfume of the girl he recalls being his good luck charm. He could see her bright smile and the tattoo she willingly flashed at him. A dopey smile tugs at his lips as he reminisces about last night.
His euphoric haze is cut short when he realizes he never even got your name. Bradley didn’t know who you were or who you were with. He finds himself getting more of a headache trying to remember if he has ever seen you at any of the Greek life events on campus. He doubts you were in a sorority. He’s sure he would’ve remembered seeing a face like yours.
The best thing he could do is ask if anyone knew a girl with a clover tattoo, but even that would probably get him nowhere.
The pounding in his chest didn’t settle as he continued to relive the interaction from the night before. If only he hadn’t been pulled away by Omaha, he probably would’ve mustered up enough courage to get your name and number. He maybe would have even asked you out on a date. But he was whisked away in an instant. After the fiasco at the keg, Bradley wandered around the house trying to find you, with absolutely no luck. He didn’t understand what it was, but he was convinced that he needed to see you again. He had to.
Even in his hung over state of mind, Bradley was on a mission. First, he was going to sober up and shower. Then was going to find his four leafed clover.
this one is dedicated to @blue-aconite for this fic and clover wouldn’t exist without you, ily <;3
a/n: i hope you’re all as excited for bradley and clover as i am. im super stoked to introduce them into the ‘loving you universe’ and for you all to see where their story leads them. as always, the inbox is open and comments and reblogs are encouraged and appreciated.
tgm taglist: @joaquinwhorres @harrycherrylove @smoothdogsgirl @t-nd-rfoot @dempy @ollyoxenfrees @potato-girl99981 @averyhotchner @2guysonascooter @loveforaugust @blue-aconite @fandom-life-12 @stiles-banshees @iamdannyday @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @breezemood @eli2447 @angelbabyange @finelytaylored @pono-pura-vida @hecate-steps-on-me @blueoorchid @aviatorobsessed @blackwidownat2814 @hallecarey1 @averagereader35 @laneylovesglen @atarmychick007 @kajjaka @urfavelocagirl @clancycumber230 @memeorydotcom @kmc1989 @percysaidnever @thestarspangledcaptain
#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw x y/n#bradley bradshaw x you#bradley bradshaw oneshot#bradley bradshaw x f!reader#rooster x reader#rooster x y/n#rooster x you#rooster oneshot#rooster x f!reader#frat!bradley bradshaw x reader#college!au#loving you universe: the lucky one#rooster x clover 🍀#demxters writing
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Barely Even Over. - Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x F!Reader
Word Count: I don’t know, I’ll update this when I’m off mobile
Summary: You’ve never been good with complacency. You’ve nearly broken it off four times with Bradley before, feeling trapped and needing to run. You don’t know why it happens, or why you feel so compelled to escape. This time, you can’t get past it. What had always been passing conversation has been a full production. You’re nearly to the curtain close when the entire thing is derailed by a very agitated pilot on your front porch.
Content Warning: lots of cursing, lots of angst, potential trigger for anxiety
Author’s Note: I’ve been obsessed with this song by Drake Milligan and I couldn’t get this out of my brain. Also!! Rooster content? In 2024? Wow. - unedited, unbeta’ed we die like idiots.
God, you couldn’t wait to get the hell out of here. The fact that it was almost eleven o’clock at night and someone was pounding at your door was one of the countless reasons you’d put in a transfer request.
The main reason you were leaving stood on the other side of your open door.
Bradley stands, dripping wet from the monsoon that’s raging outside (you’d heard it from the wind and the pelting rain on your window), the most vicious look on his face. You spot the equally soggy piece of paper you’d shoved in his mailbox this morning in his hand.
“You really thought you could just drop this off and bolt out of town without a word?” He shakes the wet mangled letter around, a drop of water flinging to the tip of your nose. When he starts into it, you’re pushing the door shut, regretting not checking the peephole before you tugged the door open. Rooster’s hand grabs the edge of the wood before you can get too far, pushing his body weight into it to keep it ajar.
“Or that I had to hear from Hangman of all people that he saw a moving truck taking your shit?” You turn and enter into the empty apartment, trying to avoid this conversation. That was the point of the letter, the point of no contact the last few hours. You were about five hours from departing San Jose and never coming back. Bradley slams the door shut as he follows you inside.
“Jesus, wake all the neighbors while you’re at it Bradshaw.” You groan, stepping into your bathroom to do a mindless check that everything had been packed. That you weren’t forgetting anything.
“Fuck the neighbors, Gemstone! You were going to just fucking ghost me? Ditch me without a goddamn word?” You can hear the pain singe his voice. A normally smooth and entertained gruff is resentful and burned instead when he speaks to you. He follows you as you move to the kitchen to do one last once over, averting this onslaught as much as you could. “Drop a shitty letter in my mailbox to dump my ass, ignore my texts, decline my calls - not a single word from you! What the fuck??”
“I’m being restationed, Rooster, it’s not-“
“Oh bullshit!! Mav told me the truth! You fucking requested the transfer! You thought you could sneak away without witnessing the storm you’re fucking making! Just dropping all your ties and escaping -“ he huffs and the paper in his hand is crumbled into a wet lump, then slammed at a nearby wall. So much for your security deposit. “You are always looking for an out. For a reason to leave California- the navy- me. As if the last three years were so fuckin’ miserable that you needed to just vanish. Like nothing ever happened.” Bradley is seething with each curse and vent that exists his lungs.
You’ve run out of cabinets to check. Out of options to avoid looking at him. So when you finally do, you see the mustached man shaking slightly from the temperature of the cold water clinging to him via a damp Hawaiian shirt. The way his eyes locked to you with seething hurt, a brokenness you couldn’t comprehend.
He wasn’t supposed to get home from his training in Atlanta until tomorrow. You were supposed to disappear. Jake and his big fucking mouth. Before you can say anything, Bradley turns to face you fully, brows pushing downward as if it would expel the anger out.
“Three years. Fucking three years and you think you can step out like this. Without a word, without giving a rhyme or a reason - leaving in the middle of the night - without a clue you were even considering this?? Buying fucking plane tickets behind my back?? Packing your entire god damn life up without a notion of the feelings of people around you - of your fucking boyfriend? You didn’t think to have the decency to break up with me to my face??” His hand points to the slop against the wall that had been your letter. His notice of termination so to speak. “The fact you couldn’t say it out loud- couldn’t face any of this at the face value means you don’t actually want to do it. You don’t want to do it, you’re just scared. You’re scared of the same surroundings, the same job, the same city, the same house, the same person, Gem. That’s what you are. Always leaving so you don’t get hurt when you get freaked out.” The register of his words is loud, but not nearly as loud as the next round of spitfire.
“If we’re gonna break up you’re gonna do it now! You’re gonna say what you put on that god damn piece of paper to my fucking face! That you never loved me, that you’ve been hanging on to a lie! That you can’t stand to stay in this god forsaken city a single second more! You don’t get to just leave and not see this!!” He points to his expression. “The mad! The angry, the rejection and betrayal! If you’re gonna do it you’re gonna do it to my face!” Finally, finally, Bradley takes a shaking breath, turning away to try to collect himself.
“Bradley, I didn’t want to do this like this for a reason-“ he spins. There are tears rolling down his face.
“Fuck, I love you.” The stinging sensation starts. The familiarly ominous feeling that sinks in and starts to eat at you every time you’ve had this conversation. “You loved me. I know you did. At some point you did, I know you did and you can’t lie to me and say you didn’t.” The hot tears are barely breaking surface tension along your lash line. “Don’t leave me like this, Gems. Don’t- cause I won’t-“ he hovers in his words, “I think I deserve at least a bad goodbye. Not some letter full of lies hit you don’t mean. Some pathetic attempt at closure is better than whatever the fuck this is. This, this, sorry excuse for a break up.” His feet come sinking toward you as he reaches out. You don’t back away.
His hand takes your hand, squeezing it tightly, his other hand coming to wipe your own tears in the hollow room. “I can take hellfire. I can take screaming, shouting, shit, you can hate me if you have to, honey.” It’s so fractured, his voice. Strained from shouting, tainted with emotions he clearly hasn’t come to understand yet, “just… don’t leave me like this. Still so in love with you. Still wanting to see your face when I wake up every day, to curl into you and avoid the world a little longer- still wanting to fix that damn car with you,” you stifle a laugh, despite the gravity of everything, “still completely and utterly adoring you. Don’t leave me loving you. Please, Gems, don’t.”
The two of you grow quiet, Rooster’s hand still clutching to yours, his hand cupping the back of your neck. He pulls you in, lips pressing to your forehead. He stays there as a soft cry that moves through his chest, tears dampening your hair as the two of you stand there in the cruelty of your wake.
#rooster x f!reader#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw fanfiction#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw x you#rooster bradshaw x reader#top gun maverick#top gun#top gun fanfiction#top gun fic#top gun maverick fanfiction#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley x reader smut#rooster bradshaw x f!reader#rooster x reader smut#rooster x you#bradley rooster x reader#Spotify
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masterlist | foli jolly xmas list
under the tree
bradley "rooster" bradshaw x f!reader
summary: santa came early for bradley and he’s positive you’re trying to kill him. too bad mav also decided to arrive earlier than planned. awkward chaos ensues.
warnings: swearing, embarrassment (poor bradley), getting walked in on, lingerie, SMUT 18+ ONLY, fingering, praise, not really penetration but the tip getting just there y'know
word count: 2165
a/n: sorry for the lateness, but i got there! this was a lot of fun, enjoy loves x
His lips are soft and insistent under yours, parting at the swipe of your tongue and filling your mouth with the rumble of his groan. Ever pliable under your touch, softening to follow your lead despite his eagerness clawing for more. You chase the taste of him, licking into his mouth and feeling a tremble trickle through his body, your hands smoothing over the firm expanse of his chest.
“I got you something,” you murmur into his mouth, inhaling sharply when his mouth moves to your throat. “Well, I mean, it’s for me… but I think you’ll enjoy it. It’s very pretty.”
He practically folds at your sweet coo, his heart heavy against his ribs as heat settles low in his gut.
“Yeah?” His voice comes out muffled against your skin, his tongue smoothing over your pulse point. “Show me, honey. I bet you look so pretty… show me. Please.”
You shift up onto your knees, leaving him resting on the floor and propped up by his elbow. He studies the way your fingers pop each button of your sleep shirt open, his tongue swiping along his lower lip with each flicker of bare skin he catches. Eventually you reach the end of your shirt and delicately pry it away from your chest, displaying your new purchase in all of its beautiful, lacy glory.
“What do you think, baby?” You ask innocently, your head tilting as you watch the flutter of emotion run over his face.
His eyes bug out of his head, his mouth quickly dropping in a daze of pleasant surprise. He jerks up into a sitting position, his big hands coming to cup your tits, his rough thumbs brushing over the delicate lace covering your nipples and feeling them pebble beneath his touch.
“Holy shit,” he breathes, “you’re so fucking beautiful, honey. Look at you—”
He dives forward, the slick feel of his hot tongue swirling a path along your skin until his hot breath melts through the lace and surrounds your nipple. He envelopes it with the heat of his mouth and you hum softly, raking a hand through his ruffled waves as he slowly coaxes you backwards until your back hits the rug.
“There’s some fun things under the tree, too.”
His head comes away from your chest and you watch the way his brow perks, his hands becoming tighter where they grab at you. “Like what?”
“Guess you’ll have to wait and see,” you tease lightly, a smirk tugging at your lips. “Something for me, something for you, something for us…”
“God, you’re gonna be the fuckin’ death of me,” he groans, melting over you in a heap of pressure, the feel of his body covering yours familiar and comforting.
His lips immediately mould over yours, his tongue swiping forward and sliding along yours as you tug impatiently at his T-shirt, briefly breaking away from the lure of his lips to tear it up and over his head before reclaiming his mouth. You breathe each other in, losing yourselves to the feel of the other as the heat around you grows, creeping over your skin and settling low in your core.
“It’s a matching set, by the way,” you whisper, shifting your hips teasingly beneath his.
You feel the thick outline of his cock press into the soft flesh of your thigh and fight to hold back a moan, desperate to feel him better, to weigh him in your hand and guide him into your waiting cunt. You feel the way you’ve practically soaked the thin fabric of your underwear, aware of just how fucking badly you’ve needed to get your hands on him all damn day.
He does it on purpose, holding himself just that bit harder against your ass whenever you’re standing at the sink or bending over to reach into the washing machine but whirling out of your reach when you go to grab him.
“God damn, why didn’t you tell me earlier?” He huffs, grinning as he sits back on his heels and tears at your jeans, his smile widening at your breathless chuckle.
The denim eventually gives way to his impatience, and they’re tossed over his shoulder without the slightest care, landing in a heap just short of the couch. His hot, calloused palms land on your bent knees, encouraging you to spread your legs and let him gaze at the matching underwear smoothing over your skin.
He gives a sharp exhale when your legs loosen under his hands, his chest heaving just that little bit quicker when his eyes land on your covered pussy and the noticeable wet patch soaking through the material.
“You’re the prettiest damn thing I’ve ever seen,” he drawls, his low timbre churning the heat swimming in your core.
He’s the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen, comfortably reclined on his heels and wonderfully half naked, giving you the pleasure of ogling him in all his broad chested glory. Your Bradley is a beast, all thick arms wrapped with muscle and a torso practically made of solid steel.
It’s his eyes that get you the most, warm and dripping honey, forever filled with a touching tenderness and adoration he gives to only you. It never fails to make your heart thunder in your chest, drumming loudly in your ears.
He’s all yours, and he loves to make it well known.
“God, look at you — so fucking wet already, honey. I’ve barely touched you,” he taunts as he leans over you, swiping a thumb across the wet patch of your underwear and applying pressure when he feels your clit through the fabric.
“You feelin’ needy, sweet girl?”
“You know I am. You do it on purpose,” you accuse weakly, eyes fluttering at the contact.
“Me?” He questions, a wicked shine settling in his eyes. “Got no idea what you’re talking about.”
His pace is slow, thumb circling and circling until your hips start to arch into his touch. His finger curls around the leg band of your underwear and pulls it over your pussy, baring your slick folds to his touch. His thumb returns to the same path it drew before, swiping along your slit and feeling his digit move smoothly through your arousal.
“This all for me, honey?”
“Mhm,”
“Such a good girl, such a pretty girl,” he murmurs, “my pretty girl, aren’t you, honey?”
A thick finger breaches your entrance, sinking deep into your cunt and curling against your walls teasingly before slowly withdrawing. It returns alongside another, stretching and filling your pussy with the width of two big fingers. He sets a leisurely pace, keeping it purposefully slow enough to get you writhing on the floor, your hips impatiently rising with every press of his hand in hopes to get something more.
Deeper, faster, anything—
“Oh god, Bradley, baby, please—”
“I know… I know. I got you, gonna fuck you so good,” he grits out, fingers deftly undoing his button and fly and desperately tugging the thick length of his cock out.
He swipes the tip of his cock along your folds, coating himself in your arousal before pushing forward, filling your cunt inch by delicious inch before—
“Knock knock! Surprise kids, I know I’m early—”
You both freeze.
Is that…?
God, no. No, no, no—
It’s instant.
It’s horrific.
Mav.
He immediately clocks onto your position, freezing in the threshold of the lounge as his eyes find you bare beneath the tree and in an undeniably compromising position. He quickly averts his gaze, turning away with an uncharacteristically startled, “Holy shit—”
Bradley scrambles to get off of you, launching himself for the throw on the couch and covering your bare frame with his own mortified, “Holy shit—”, his hands quick to shove his cock back into his shorts and cover any of your skin not yet hidden.
You lay on the floor, highly aware of the scratch of the rug beneath your back while fire rages along under your skin, spreading across your chest and filling your cheeks with molten lava. You burn from the humiliation, fingers clutching the blanket like it’s a fucking life line.
“Jesus, I’m sorry, I swear I didn’t see anything!” Mav yells, already walking back out the door and slamming it shut behind himself. The windows rattle from the force of it.
—
The silence is deafening.
Bradley sits ramrod straight next to you on the couch, staring through the far wall and not blinking, not even when you murmur his name to catch his attention. Your hand comes to rest over his hand and he jolts slightly at your touch, his head slowly turning until his eyes somewhat meet yours.
“We have to go out there sooner or later.”
His lips purse and he gives a small shake of his head, resuming his position of staring at nothing. “Nope. No we don’t. We’re fine here.”
You purse your lips, “Bradley, we can’t just leave him sitting outside.”
“How do we know he hasn’t left? He’s probably long gone.”
It’s wishful thinking on his end. In fact, you fully believe he’s wishing that he’d never have to see his godfather ever again. God, this is humiliating.
“Baby, we would’ve heard his bike—”
“We didn’t the first time.”
His face crumbles into a wince.
How did you not hear Mav’s bike? You always hear it. That’s his thing. That’s his warning, his greeting. It’s not exactly quiet, the rumble of the vehicle always echoing down the street. Had you been that distracted? Jesus.
You fight away the remaining licks of mortification sitting low in your stomach and straighten your shoulders, determined to get the air cleared before Christmas and the small party you were holding. It wasn’t that big of a deal, and besides, Mav’s cool. He’d be fine, albeit a little embarrassed, but you’re certain the issue couldn’t possibly be as bad as Bradley is thinking.
“Come on now, we can be adults about this. For god sake Bradley, we are adults. It’s fine. I’m sure he’s well aware we have sex.”
“Well he definitely is now!”
“Okay, no more of this. Come on—on your feet, Lieutenant. We’ve got this.”
He follows your lead, shuffling quietly behind you as you make your way to the front door. You peak outside and brace yourself as you notice Mav sitting on his bike, picking at loose threads on his jeans. You take a steadying breath and open the door, forcing a small smile when Mav’s eyes immediately shoot to you.
You descend the steps and clear your throat, watching as Mav pushes off his bike and slowly wanders closer, tucking the armband of his trusty aviators down the front of his T-shirt.
“I didn’t know whether or not to stay, or if you were…” Mav clears his throat, shifting his shoulders under his worn leather jacket, “...finishing.”
“Jesus Christ,” Bradley groans quietly, no doubt having a small existential crisis.
“I don’t think we would’ve been able to after that,” you joke, relieved when Mav snorts in amusement.
Bradley, however, looks like he’s about to be sick. He keeps his gaze purposefully away from Mav, apparently developing an interest in studying the cracks in the pavement.
“Um, for what it’s worth,” you say, smiling in embarrassment, “we’re sorry you had to see that. We’ll uh… we’ll start locking the front door.”
“Yeah, you should do that,” Mav agrees before making a face, “believe me, that’s gonna be the last time I’m ever gonna try and surprise you two. Jesus.”
Bradley groans, sinking to the bottom step and burying his face in his hands, “Oh my god.”
—
He’s delighted. The bastard. Of course he would relish in you and your husband's embarrassment. You’d never live this down, Bradley would never live this down. It wasn’t like you couldn’t say anything. He had noticed the second he had entered your home that Bradley seemed to be avoiding his godfather at any and all costs and had naturally interrogated you.
“You tellin’ me Mav saw you with your tits out?” Jakes drawls, a highly amused grin tugging at the corner of his lips.
You take a sip of the whiskey in your hand and smack your lips, sighing deeply. “He saw a lot more than that.”
He whistles lowly, raising his beer in a sort of toast. “Damn. Merry Christmas, gramps! Do we get a Christmas treat? You gonna put on a show for us, Bradshaw? I’ll try not to laugh, I swear—”
“Watch yourself,” Bradley grumbles from where he half hides behind you.
You turn to him, raising an eyebrow. “Are you ever gonna talk to him again?”
Bradley’s eyes move to where Mav sits on the porch laughing with Nix and Bob, his throat bobbing with a swallow as he raises his beer to his lips.
“Nope. In fact we’re moving. Overseas. Far, far away.”
Jake makes a noise of amusement, slapping Bradley’s chest fondly. “That’ll sure stop him seeing you with your dick out.”
“Shut up.”
-
bonus: a look at jake having the absolute time of his life bringing this story up at every available moment ever
rooster tags: @kindablackenedsuperhero, @rosiahills22, @a-reader-and-a-writer, @labellapeaky, @nanjalee, @hawsx3, @nonsensical-nonce, @cowboylikecassidy, @spacegirly1, @tolietpaper, @themusicalweirdo, @miles-rooster, @lilfoxyqueensworld, @sirpascal, @xoxabs88xox, @you-got-me-starry-eyed, @randomchick546, @dindjarinswhore, @flamesocks, @Curiouser-an-curiouser, @mwltwo, @lccs-world,
#foli jolly christmas#bradley “rooster” bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw x reader#rooster x reader#bradley bradshaw x f!reader#rooster x f!reader#bradley bradshaw x you#rooster x you#bradley bradshaw smut#bradley bradshaw imagine#rooster smut#top gun fanfiction#top gun imagine
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But this is love I just can’t live without Masterlist
Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x f!Kazansky!Reader
Biker!au
Summary: You swore you were never coming home again. Not after what happened. What he did to you when you were kids. But you know you’d regret missing your own mother’s funeral if you didn’t show up. You just hope he doesn’t come even though it’s almost guaranteed he will. Has to support his grieving president and all.
Connected to but not necessary to read:
Take me with you Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x f!reader
Top Gun MC members:
Iceman - President
Maverick - Vice President
Slider - Sergeant at Arms
Hollywood - Secretary
Wolfman - Treasurer
Original members - Merlin, Sundown, Chipper, Cougar, Hondo, Cyclone
Newer members - Rooster, Hangman, Bob, Coyote, Fanboy, Payback, Fritz, Yale, Harvard, Omaha
Chapter 1 “Oh how can it be” Baby Ice
Chapter 2 “Bit off more than you could chew” Bradley
Chapter 3 “Nowhere to go” Baby Ice
Chapter 4 “A man so filled with doubt” Bradley
Chapter 5 “Counting on beauty to kill off the beast” Baby Ice
Chapter 6 “A curse I can’t disown” Bradley
Chapter 7 “Howl at the moon” Baby Ice
Chapter 8 "The softer the skin" Bradley
Chapter 9 "The sharper the teeth" Baby Ice
Chapter 10 “It’s tearing me apart” Baby Ice
Chapter 11 "It's worse when I'm alone" Baby Ice
Chapter 12 "Despite the toll of the dead" Baby Ice
Chapter 13 " " Bradley
Title and chapter names from:
#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw masterlist#bradley rooster bradshaw x female reader#rooster x f!reader#this is love i just can’t live without#Spotify
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Fries, Goodbyes & The Rest Of Our Lives
Summary: Being stood up isn’t always a bad thing.
Warnings/Genre etc.: Fluff, lousy singing.
W/C: 2k
Characters: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw, Mentions/Small Parts: Natasha ‘Phoenix’ Trace, Mickey ‘Fanboy’ Garcia, Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd, Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin, Harvard.
Pairing: Rooster x Fem!Reader (you - no descriptions of body type or ethnicity).
Notes: I saw this post on Instagram, and it immediately made me think of Rooster. Songs: Is This Love by White Snake, Can’t Take My Eyes Off You by Frankie Valli.
A/N: the wonderful and brilliant @writercole helped with ideas, summary, and title and helped make the muses comply.
Betas: @deanwinchesterswitch
Master Lists: Top Gun: Maverick // All The Fandoms
Fries, Goodbyes & The Rest Of Our Lives
It’s been a week. It’s not even worth listing all the things that went wrong. The icing on the cake (presumably made with salt and not sugar - cause it's that kind of week) was your date canceled on you as you took a seat at a booth in the diner.
You sigh as the waitress comes to take your order, accepting that you’ve been stood up and decide you may as well eat since you’re already there.
“I’ll take a cheeseburger, side salad, no tomato, extra dressing, please.”
The elderly waitress smiles. It’s comforting and sweet. Her name tag says Pattie, and you imagine her grandkids get overly excited whenever Granny Pat visits. “You want the fries with that?”
You ponder for half a second before declining, “No thanks.”
“You sure, hun? They’re included in the price.”
You had dirty Cajun fries from the food cart outside the office at lunch. You know the diner’s fries won’t taste as good, besides you want to leave room for dessert, so you politely decline again.
“I’ll take them, Pattie!”
You twist in the booth to look over your shoulder and find the source. A handsome guy sitting at the bar, wearing a light yellow floral print shirt, smiles and gives a two-fingered wave. You’d clocked him when you’d entered. You’d caught his eye too, and he’d given you a broad smile. His mustache was a flashback to a decade or two ago, but he wore it well. He carried it with a sense of pride and confidence. It looked good on him. Anyone else, you’d have thought it was creepy.
“Hush now, boy,” Pattie scolds, but she’s smiling when she turns back to face you.
You chuckle, nodding toward him, “He’ll take the fries.”
Pattie takes your menu and disappears to the kitchen. You look at Mr. Mustache, who tips his beer bottle to you before bringing it to his lips.
You grab your phone and message the “No Scrubs” group.
You: Stood up again. Where you guys at?
Cole: At that navy bar I was telling you about. Come meet us.
You: I’ve just ordered dinner. Will see how I feel after.
You scroll social media while you wait. Pattie comes by a few times, brings cutlery and sauces, and refreshes your drink.
You hear the bell ring to signal an order’s ready, and your mouth waters when you see Pattie heading toward you. The burger looks delicious. The brioche bun glistens under the lights as the cheese melts over the edge onto the plate. It's so tall there’s a wooden skewer through the top to keep it in place, and the fries are fat and look perfectly crispy.
Pattie sets the plate down, “Enjoy, sweetheart,” and you swallow before drool slips out.
Just as you pull the skewer out of the burger, you hear, “Those are mine, remember.”
You laugh, twisting to look at him again. He’s got a cheerful smirk, but his brow is raised as if challenging you. “Why don’t you join me?” you offer.
He grabs his beer and twists off his stool. The smile remains while he saunters over, and you can’t take your eyes off him, admiring the sway of his hips. He’s confident in an almost bashful way. The open floral shirt shows a white shirt beneath it, and the contrast against his tanned skin looks as edible as your burger.
“Tell me,” he says, grabbing a fry and biting off the end. “What kind of psychopath doesn’t have fries with their burger?”
You shrug, “The same kind that offers to take a stranger's fries.”
“Touché,” he chuckles.
You laugh, explaining, “I had fries at lunch and want dessert.”
He nods as if now understanding your logic. “Ah, she’s got a sweet tooth.”
“I’ve heard that the chocolate malt here is the best in the state. I can’t pass that up,” you grin.
“Well, that is true,” he shrugs, popping another fry into his mouth. “Make or break question here, whipped cream on top of the shake?”
“I fear this will affect our budding friendship,” you tease, “but ab-so-lutely whipped cream on top of the shake. Among other places,” you wink.
His boldness flounders for half a second, recognizing he’s met his match, but he recovers quickly. Wetting his lips and giving a cheeky smile. “Are you flirting with me?”
“Depends.”
“On what?”
“I don’t see a ring, and you’re here alone. Are you single?”
“Yes.”
“Then yes, I’m definitely flirting with you.”
His smile widens and remains while the conversation flows and the two of you eat. Flirtations and laughter pass back and forth effortlessly.
Your phone chimes with another message, and you see the ‘No Scrubs’ group chat has two unread messages. You don’t want to be rude and pick it up to reply, but you know if you don’t, they’ll likely call to make sure you’re okay.
“Somewhere else you need to be?” he asks, a hint of disappointment in his voice that he attempts to hide behind a sip of beer.
“No, just some friends trying to get me to go meet them at some Navy bar.” You roll your eyes and type a quick ‘maybe’ before locking your phone, setting it face down on the table.
“Navy bar? The Hard Deck?” he questions, tilting his head to the side.
“I think that’s what Cole said. Do you know it?”
“That’s actually where I’m headed after. I could give you a ride. If you need one, that is.”
“I don’t even know your name.”
“It’s Bradley, but my friends call me Rooster.”
“Rooster?” you laugh. “Please tell me there’s a good story there.”
“There might be. I guess that depends on if you want to hear it.”
“How about you tell me on the way to the bar?”
The open window lifts your hair slightly, and every time Rooster gets a hit of your perfume, he inhales deeply, savoring it.
He sticks to the speed limit, if not a little below it. He’s not quite ready to say goodbye to you. He’s never had such an instant, effortless connection with someone, and he wants to make it last as long as possible.
You’d laughed at the story about his name. You’d have never guessed that it was a nickname his uncle gave him when he was a kid. The radio is playing at a low volume, but as soon as the opening bars of Is This Love by White Snake start, you lean over and crank the volume as loud as it will go, singing along as if he isn’t there.
“Is this love that I'm feeling?” you sing, holding a pretend microphone. “Is this the love that I've been searching for? Is this love, or am I dreaming? This must be love. 'Cause, it's really got a hold on me. A hold on me.”
You can’t hold a tune, and your voice cracks a few times, but still, you belt it out with vigor, and Rooster thinks he may be falling in love. Did Pattie put something in those fries?
“Sorry,” you say, settling back into your seat, “that’s one of my favorites.”
It’s one of my favorites now too. But he doesn’t say it. Instead, he laughs, “I never would’ve guessed.”
“Are you not a car karaoke kinda guy?” you ask. “You seem like you like to sing along.”
“I’ve been known to hold a few car concerts,” he admits, “but I didn’t want to interrupt your flow.”
“Can you sing as good as me?”
He looks at you and sees the jesting expression. You know you can’t sing, and you don’t care one little bit.
“I’d love to serenade you,” he says, “but unfortunately, we’re here.”
“Some other time?” you ask, and he swears you sound hopeful.
Rooster opens the Hard Deck door, and as soon as he hears the hustle and bustle from inside, he wishes he’d suggested you stay at the diner. Holding the door open, he gestures for you to enter first, and you smile a thanks as you pass by.
You stop a few feet inside, scanning the room as he stands beside you. This is the one time he hopes Hangman is being himself and has, by some miracle, coaxed your friends over to the group so Rooster has an excuse to keep talking to you.
“Those are my friends over there,” you say, dashing all his hopes as you point to the pool tables on the opposite side of the room.
“I’m over there,” Rooster says, pointing to where the Dagger squad is assembled.
“Thanks for the ride.”
“Thanks for the fries.”
“Anytime.”
“Enjoy the rest of your night.”
“You too.”
There’s a pause, neither of you knowing what to do. You rise to the tips of your toes, and he dips to let you place a gentle kiss on his cheek.
His cheeks quickly flush, hearing the jeers, shouts, and wolf whistles, but you drop back down with a laugh.
“Sorry,” he says. “They’re a bunch of idiots.”
He scolds himself for being an idiot as you walk away. He should invite you over or ask for your number, but he’s suddenly tongue-tied. He stares at you, frozen to the spot, long enough to see your friends turn to look at him as you settle into your seat.
Throughout the night, flirtatious glances are passed back and forth, and smiles exchanged when they linger. Of course, it’s Hangman who notices the consequence of Rooster’s error.
“Looks like you lose again, Rooster,” the blond pilot remarks, a way too smug grin showing off his perfectly white teeth. “Too snug on that perch, and Harvard is gonna take your lady right out from under your beak.”
Rooster doesn’t care if it proves Hangman’s point. He looks directly at you. Harvard is whispering in your ear. You're smiling, but Rooster thinks it's more of a polite, courteous smile than genuine interest.
But it’s the kick he needs to take action. He looks to Phoenix, Bob, and Mickey, almost pleading, “I need your help.”
Phoenix nods once, Bob smiles, and Mickey asks, “What?”
“He wants to do the Goose move,” Phoenix explains without Bradley needing to tell her any more.
“What’s the Goose move?”
“It’s the move his Dad did to get his Mom,” Bob says.
“I don’t know what that is,” Mickey shrugs.
“Technically, we've been doing it for years,” Rooster says, “it’s just that this time, it involves my future wife.”
“So, no pressure,” Bob gulps.
“Relax. I’ve got a plan,” Phoenix winks, gesturing for the three guys to come closer.
Harvard doesn’t seem all that smart, and you wonder if it's an ironic nickname or callsign, as Rooster had explained. Harvard certainly doesn’t understand body language. You’ve tried, unsuccessfully, to put some distance between you three times. The third time he slides his arm around your shoulders.
Before you can shrug, his arm slips off, and suddenly, a pretty brunette woman is in his place. “Hi,” she says brightly, her back to a flustered-looking Harvard. “I’m Phoenix, and this is Fanboy. We’re friends with Rooster.”
Butterflies dance in your stomach. Before she can say anymore or you have a chance to wonder why he’s sent his friends to rescue you, the jukebox cuts off, and a collective groan echoes around the room.
“That was supposed to happen,” Phoenix smiles. Fanboy is speaking quietly to Harvard, and he doesn’t seem happy about whatever is being said, but you're grateful for the interruption.
There’s a soft twinkling from a piano somewhere in the room, and after a few more notes, you find the source. Phoenix continues, “That’s Bob, and you’ve met Rooster.”
Your eyes drift up from the piano player and land on Bradley, fingers tapping the wooden top, while Bob continues to find the right melody.
Rooster’s eyes are locked on you, a shy smirk lifting the corner of his mustache.
“Thanks for the save,” you say to Phoenix but keep your eyes on Rooster.
“Well, it wasn’t the actual intention, but Harvard can be a bit…” she trails off.
“Thick?”
“That’s a good word for him,” she laughs.
The bright random notes turn into a clear, rich melody that flows through the room moments before the smooth baritone of Rooster’s voice fills the air. “You’re just too good to be true. Can’t take my eyes off of you.”
Damn, he can sing!
Taking the lyrics literally, he doesn’t avert his eyes while he serenades you. You feel Phoenix’s hand at your elbow, but you can’t look away from the gorgeous man belting out a song just for you. Only when he draws closer do you realize she’s guiding you to him.
The bar is packed, and the crowd gathers around the piano, but somehow Rooster is always in your line of sight, and then Fanboy is in front of you, splitting the crowd to let you through.
It feels surreal but magical when somehow there’s a clear path straight to Rooster. It looks like an aisle leading to an altar, and the man that awaits you has been sent from the heavens because he’s gorgeous, kind, funny, and clearly has a talent for commanding a room. You wonder what else you could uncover, given some time.
“At long last, love has arrived,” Rooster sings as you reach his side. Phoenix slips away as you reach for Bradley’s outstretched hand.
Definitely an altar, and you’ll happily worship here for eternity. Interlocking your fingers with his, he pulls you against him. “Now that I found you, stay,” it’s more than a song, it's a question, and you nod.
Slowly, he inches closer, and the crowd takes over, singing the chorus, when his lips connect with yours and the world melts away.
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Let's get physical (Bradley Bradshaw)
Summary: Something about nice guy fellow pilot Bradley Rooster Bradshaw has always rubbed you up the wrong way. Until an encounter in the gym reminds you nothing about Rooster - or your feelings about him - are quite what you'd thought they were.
3.9k words
Author notes: I am definitely not a gym goer, so forgive me if I've got any terms or details wrong. Also, I'm generally not a Rooster girl, but I've learned I really enjoy writing about him! Thank you so much as always for reading! All comments, likes and shares are always hugely appreciated.
Warnings: Porn with a little plot, minors do not engage there is nothing for you here! Semi-public sex, bad language, unprotected sex (be safe kids!), fingering, p in v sex, some angst. I think that's all.
Let's get physical
Your favourite thing about work was flying for sure, but gym time came a close second. There was something about lifting weights, working on your muscles until they were almost numb that never failed to calm your anxiety and get you all the way back into your body. And an empty gym where you could work out alone with only your earbuds for company? Bliss.
The music was loud and the workout was sweaty - the perfect way to start the day, but it meant you didn’t know you had company until those thick thighs were in front of the weights bench where you had sat for some simple butterfly presses and there was nowhere else to look but at him.
“Need a spotter y/c/s?”
“Go away Rooster.”
Bradley Rooster Bradshaw ran a hand through his hair. “Ouch y/c/s. Last I heard we’re part of the same team.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Not out of choice. And when I’m in the gym I’m a one-woman team.” Tilting your head you smiled sweetly at him. “Don’t let me keep you from working out.”
Shaking his head he turned his back and walked away to work out, broad shoulders rippling under a ridiculous muscle vest that wouldn’t have looked out of place in an 80s action movie.
It wasn’t that you had any reason to dislike Rooster - almost everyone you spoke to had only good things to say about him; but something about him had rubbed you up the wrong way since you’d first crossed paths at the naval academy.
Maybe it was the hint of nepotism you got whenever you saw him with Maverick, an influential figure in the US Navy despite the behaviour that earned his callsign; maybe it was his determination to be slow, steady and considered in a world that needed fast reactions and daredevil attitudes; or maybe it was just the fact that everyone was so damned nice about him - even the notoriously awkward Hangman had been won over just a few months before. Whatever the reason, Bradley Bradshaw set your nerves on edge and the last thing you wanted was to have him get involved in your morning workout.
Not that it was bad to share a gym with him, you considered despite yourself, as your eyes wandered over to the far corner of the room, where you could clearly see his reflection on the mirror. Long, muscular legs pounding against the treadmill with a pert, peachy ass bobbing above them, and the slightest trace of sweat beginning to gather between those perfectly defined shoulder blades as a sign of just how dedicated he was to the cause.
Shaking your head you turned away.
Focus on the workout, y/c/s. Don’t be stupid.
As you moved to the barbell, you found yourself just in front of Rooster. He smiled briefly as he caught your eye, but quickly turned his attention back to his own weights while you tried to concentrate on the task at hand.
Nonetheless he was there, pecs and shoulders rippling as he carried out ten sets of chest presses, light grunts leaving his lips with each rep.
You let out a long breath - it was hot. No, you corrected yourself. You were hot. Working out in a gym with no a/c had to be the reason for your raised temperature, maybe even the quick twist in your gut that made itself known every few minutes.
Your music continued to blast in your ears while Rooster worked out with one eye on the TV sports news, only pausing to drink deeply from a tall bottle of water every few minutes. It was a companionable silence in many ways, the two of you keeping out of each other’s way as you moved around the gym in your own rhythm.
Finally, all other exercises done, it was time to take on your arch nemesis. You made your way over to the chin-up bar and stood before it with hands on hips. No matter how hard you trained elsewhere, this was always the exercise you struggled with, and after months of point blank avoiding it, in your most recent physical you’d been told in no uncertain terms that your shoulder extension needed work and this was the way to do it. So here you were, preparing for the daily ritual that saw you dangling from the bar without, so far, any ability to lift yourself up.
Coating your hands in chalk you climbed up and grabbed the bar, before pushing yourself away from the step and, yup, dangling. Willing every ounce of energy into your shoulders you gripped, pulled… and moved no more than a quarter of an inch upwards as your entire body began to tremble.
You relaxed, closing your eyes as you took deep breaths and tensed again, grunting this time as you tried desperately to force yourself up and again, failed miserably to move.
Growling quietly, you tried one more time, moving your legs in the hope that the momentum would pull you forwards, but instead felt your hands slipping as you began to fall from the bar. The movement raised a squeal that, in any other circumstance, would have embarrassed the hell out of you.
The big hands were on your waist even as the noise left your mouth, gripping you in place with a heat that seemed to scald your flesh.
“Whoah, y/c/s. You ok?”
Cheeks burning, you reset your grip and tried to wriggle away. “Just trying to do some chin ups Bradshaw. Thanks for the save but I’ll be good.”
He paused a moment, nodding appraisingly when he was comfortable you were safe and then stepping back. “Let’s see it then.”
“What?”
“The chin-up.”
You almost spat out a laugh. “What? No. I don’t perform on demand.”
He folded his arms across his chest and you tried not to notice the way the stupid vest tightened in all the right places.
“Nope, I want proof you’re safe.”
You rolled your eyes and tried desperately to ignore the burning in your shoulders as you shifted. “What are you? My guardian Angel now?”
Rooster grinned, moustache dancing on his lip. “I’m headed for the showers after this. And if you fall while you’re in here alone I’ll never forgive myself. So either you prove to me you can do a chin up, or I stick around until you’re done. I can even help if you-.”
“No!” You barked, rolling your eyes as you mustered all of your strength and tried desperately to pull up with a grunt. It was no use, and you hissed out a curse at the failure.
Rooster stepped forward, one hand coming up to the bar as he gently tapped your fingers. “Your first problem is your hands. They need to be wider.”
“I don’t need you to show me how to do a fucking chin up.”
“What did I do to piss you off y/c/s?”
Existed. You thought. Walked around here like the golden boy of the Navy. “Who said you pissed me off?”
He gazed into your eyes for a second, but only shook his head, Adam’s apple bobbing. “Ok, hands wide. OK if I hold you?”
“I-,” you began to protest. Then realised it was quicker and easier to let the man help you. Christ knows that upper body looked like it had spent more than a little time on this bar. “Fine.”
He breathed out a short laugh. “Not exactly how I like a lady to answer that question, but ok. Hold on.”
Hands on your hips, you felt him take the bulk of your weight, found your pulse quickening and silently cursed yourself for the automatic reaction to being held so firmly.
“Ok I’ve got you.” He murmured gently, voice betraying not a hint of strain. “Now pull yourself up. Get the technique right and the rest will follow.”
Of course it was easier when you were practically weightless. Easier even when he let go a little and you found that you were pulling up only half of your own weight five times on the bounce.
“See, you’ve got it. It’ll be easier from now on. But that can wait until tomorrow, right?”
The grin was too perfect, the eyes too damned kind, and you were sure as hell determined not to have Bradley Bradshaw telling the world you could only manage the chin up bar when he held you there.
You shook your head. “No. I’ve come this far, I can do a full one.”
He opened his mouth to speak but clearly thought better of it, stepping back with a shrug.
You took a deep breath, followed exactly what he’d shown you before, pulled… and found your exhausted hands slipping again.
Once again he was there, but this time his hands went to your back; grabbing but not quite supporting you, so you had no choice but to reach back, hands on his biceps and knees awkwardly landing on either side of those broad hips.
His eyes met yours. “Ok?”
You wanted to give a witty retort, really you did. But suddenly he was just too close, your sweaty bodies pressed together and him holding you tightly as you clung on far tighter than you’d like to admit.
Your breath caught in your throat as your eyes stayed locked. “Let me down.”
“Y/c/s -.”
You squirmed and immediately regretted the decision as you saw his cheeks pink and felt your own core tighten at the friction against his shorts.
“Rooster let me the fuck down.”
But he only gripped tighter, one hand pulling your butt into him while the other pressed between your shoulder blades.
You froze, both of you gazing awkwardly at the other and unwilling to move even a muscle.
“Seriously y/c/s, what is your problem with me?”
You flushed darker and opened your mouth to speak, stumbling over your words. “You really want to know?”
Jaw set, he nodded.
You threw back your head. “You’re just so fucking nice Rooster. So sensible, so good, everybody’s best friend.” You moved one hand up to gesture wildly. “I’m out here, sweating my ass off in the gym every day, putting my heart and soul into everything I do just so people will accept I’m good enough and you,” you jabbed a finger in his chest and saw his eyes widen. “It all comes easy doesn’t it? You don’t even need to show any fire. Who ever heard of a fucking fighter pilot without fire?!”
His voice was tight, low. “That’s not fair, I’ve got fire.”
“Oh really? Then maybe it only burns when I’m not there huh? Because whenever I’m around you’re just nice, dependable, laid-back Rooster -.”
You were cut off on a gasp as he tightened his group on you, fisting one hand in your hair while his mouth simply took yours.
And took was the word. There was no gentleness, no calm; just the hard pressure of his lips against yours and nothing but sensation as his tongue forced its way into your mouth.
You gasped into the kiss, inhaling only him as your hand clung desperately to his shoulders, still gasping as his mouth moved down your neck, sucking and biting while his hands pulled your hair back so hard it stung.
“Passion?” He growled into your neck. “Y/c/s, when you’re around, the only thing I fucking feel is passion.”
You pulled back and looked at him, chest heaving as you watched through heavy-lidded eyes. “I’m Mr Nice Guy to you y/c/s because it’s either that or I rip your fucking clothes off.”
Something within you snapped and you remembered the first time you’d ever met Bradley Bradshaw - tall, dark, dangerously handsome - and had declared loudly that your career was way too important for you to get involved with another pilot. You let out a groan that was part embarrassment and part lust, and hung your head as you realised just what it was that pissed you off about Rooster’s niceness; that nice was the very last thing you’d ever wanted him to be.
“Y/c/s?”
When your eyes met his again, there was a fire within you, and your hand moved up to his hair. “So maybe my problem is that it takes everything in me not to rip your fucking clothes off too. And that I don’t want you to be nice.”
He gave an animalistic growl and stepped forward, slamming you against the wall with a pain as delicious as the feel of his lips sucking your neck, his fingers digging into your ass, and his erection pressing against your core.
You groaned and pulled him up by the hair, biting at his lip before flicking out your tongue to entwine with his. Your free hand was on his chest, pushing its way inside the low neck of the vest in a desperate attempt to find more bare flesh, and your hips rutted against his until he groaned.
“We can’t,” he gasped into your mouth. “Someone could come in…”
“Playing it safe again Rooster?”
The eyes that gazed hungrily back at you as he pulled away were so dark they were almost black. “Or maybe I just want you for myself.”
Boosting you up and pinning you tightly against his waist he began to walk through the gym, long strides which bounced you against him in ways that made you whimper.
“Hurry. Hurry.” Your mouth was on him now, teeth scraping at his throat, cheeks rubbing against the scarred jaw covered in a sharp layer of morning stubble.
He shoved you through it, going directly to the shower room in the corner and carrying you comfortably into the nearest cubicle. When he pulled back to lock the door, you took the space as an opportunity and grabbed at his vest, tugging the the material up with both hands so that, when he finally set you down, you were faced with rock hard, honey gold abs. You had a moment to stare and swore you felt your mouth water before he was on you again, tugging up the Lycra of your sports bra as his mouth once again took yours. When he paused to drag his eyes over your bare breasts you heard him growl deep in his throat.
“Fuck y/c/s. These tits.”
There was nothing slow or gentle about the way Rooster attacked your breasts, squeezing at the thick flesh as he bit and sucked at your nipples. It was a ferocity you’d never seen in him before, one you’d once thought he was lacking. But now, as it sent heat exploding out to every cell of your body, you fleetingly realised this side of Rooster really had been there all along, concealed by only the thinnest layer of control masquerading as slow and steady.
But there was no control now as he feasted on your tits, making you whimper as your nipples became so hard they hurt.
No slowness as he snaked a hand inside your tight shorts, shoving your panties aside as his hand pressed against your sopping core.
If his touch hadn’t already made your knees buckle, the deep groan that left his lips finished the job. He lifted his head back, making a filthy wet popping noise as your nipple left his mouth, and gazed down at your still clothed core.
“You’re so fucking wet,” he wondered aloud.
“You made me that way Bradshaw. Maybe you should do something about it.”
The words were like a red rag to a bull, and suddenly he was tugging your shorts and panties down your legs and dropping to the tiled floor himself until his face was directly in front of your pussy.
He licked his lips, actually licked his lips, as he inspected you, and then flicked his eyes up to your face while he ran two fingers along the length of your slit, watching the way you shuddered when he reached your clit and rolled the sensitive bud between his fingers. You whimpered, eyes rolling back in your head, and heard him draw in a breath before replacing them with his thumb while curling those fingers up inside you.
“Feel good y/c/s?”
You breathed out a laugh. “You’re inside me Bradshaw, use my name.” You’d tried to sound cocky, but as he moved again, you whimpered and fluttered around him.
He said nothing, just watched you earnestly as his fingers moved in and out, teasing out sinful noises that came louder and louder.
“Fuck Bradley, fuck.” You hissed, nails digging into his broad shoulders as the curse came faster and faster, louder and louder while the pressure inside you built higher and higher until, with a flick of his wrist, you came apart on his fingers.
Bradley worked you through the orgasm and then sat back on his heels, staring at the wetness covering you both in a way that made him groan gently.
Your breaths were still coming ragged when he placed his hands on your hips and began to kiss his way back up your front, gentle butterfly kisses that seemed almost impossible given the size of his hands on your sides and the way that he’d just driven you at 100 miles an hour through the best orgasm of your life. As he reached your breasts, he took a moment to simply feast; using his broad hands to push them together until he swirled his tongue around your joined nipples, gazing up at you in awe as you whispered his name. You let yourself drown in the sensation for a moment before touching your hands to his rough cheeks and pulling his mouth up until you could kiss him like a woman possessed.
“Still think I’m boring?” He asked, his voice low and almost swallowed up by your mouth.
You laughed into his mouth, moving back to flick your tongue over his lower lip as you replied. “I didn’t say you were boring…” As much to distract him as from your desire to have him naked, you reached for his gym shorts, enjoying the way he shuddered as you took his erection in your hand through the fabric. As you began to tug down the shorts, you moved to crouch, but Rooster reached out to stop you.
“Next time.” He murmured, capturing your mouth with his once again.
“But I-.”
Those big brown eyes simply stared into yours as he shook his head once again and helped you to tug down the shorts. “I’ve waited long enough.”
He was longer than you had expected, and thick enough to stretch the palm of your hand as you gave him a couple of slow, experimental strokes simply to watch the way his eyes rolled back in his head. Rooster braced his hands on either side of the wall behind your head, throwing his head back as you continued to move, using the pre-cum that seeped from his tip as lubrication right the way down to the heavy balls at his base, and noticing the way he grunted as you sped up a little. Continuing your movements you leaned forwards, licking a stripe up the side of his neck and grunting gently as you tasted the tang of his sweat. You were about to move to the other side when he suddenly shifted, capturing your lips once again as his hands returned to your waist.
“Ready?”
Gazing into those eyes again you nodded, breathing heavily and wrapping your legs around his waist as he simply lifted you onto his cock. There was no gentleness here, no pausing to let you get used to his size as he rutted up into you. But there was no need. You were wet and open for him, your body pulling every inch of him inside of you as you both groaned with the sensation.
“Fuck,” You whispered again, bringing a crooked smile to his face.
“That all you can say y/n?” He murmured, beginning to move his hips until every other word was punctuated by his tip nudging the most sensitive parts of you. “Or have I fucked the words out of your head already?
You nodded dumbly, eyes wide and teeth biting into your lower lip as he continued to thrust into you, the angle stretching every part of your insides enough to have you crying out over and over again.
“You OK there princess?”
“You’re, so, fucking, big,” you panted, and were rewarded by another crooked grin as he only doubled his efforts, gripping your hips to fuck you even further into the wall.
You felt your orgasm build again, hard and fast as quicksilver, and heard yourself begin to mumble incoherently as he shifted to swipe a thumb back and forth across your clit. Your whole world was the increasing pulse of pleasure as he pressed his lips to your neck and groaned, and still you could say nothing but another steady stream of curse words while he moved inside you over and over again.
“You going to give me another one princess? Look at me when you come with me, ok?”
You nodded, using every ounce of your resolve to keep your eyes open as he thrust deeper and harder, the lewd, wet sounds of your bodies moving together the soundtrack as one final snap of his hips had you falling apart around him. The cry was torn from your throat and you heard him answer with a loud moan as his hips jerked seemingly of their on accord and he spilled himself within you, his pulsing orgasm only adding to the sensation of your release while his head landed heavy upon your shoulder.
The two of you stayed like that for what seemed like minutes, both breathing heavily as your hot, damp bodies seemed glued together. As the sensation slowly returned to every part of your body, you began to feel the discomfort of the cold tiles behind you and ran a hand through the sun-bleached dark curls that rested on your chest. When there was no movement, you shifted slightly and heard him curse softly.
“What was that about fucking me too damned good to be able to speak?”
Slowly his head lifted, eyes heavy and grin wide as he planted a deep, gentle kiss on your mouth before setting you back down on the tiled floor of the room.
“Well,” you murmured, retrieving your now damp clothes from the floor. “That was unexpected.”
Rooster chuckled softly before grinning back at you. “I’ll say. Want to go get breakfast?”
Now it was your turn to laugh as you pulled your clothes back on. “Don’t you think we need to shower first?”
His eyes flicked up to the shower head behind you as he tilted his head with a shrug and a smile, but you only shook your head.
“Nun uh, who knows what goes on in these showers!” Your eyes met his. “But my place is only five minutes away, maybe we could get some breakfast after we’ve been there?”
He pulled on his clothes faster than you’d ever seen a man move, and as you went to open the door, his hand closed around yours, the other grabbing your messy ponytail to pull you around to face him and push another breath-taking kiss on you; leaving you gasping as he pulled back and raised an eye down.
“Still think I’m too much of a nice guy?”
#top gun maverick fanfiction#top gun maverick smut#bradley rooster bradshaw#rooster x reader#rooster smut#rooster x y/n#rooster x f!reader#bradley bradshaw
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For your 3K celebration my one word is luck with Rooster
This one got a bit angsty hehe Thank you for sending it in!
3k Celebration Mini Drabbles
“Y/N?” Bradley says hesitantly, knocking on the door. "Are you okay?"
When there’s no answer, Bradley knocks louder.
“Y/N, let me in.” He’s starting to sound desperate and impatient but he sort of figures that the situation warrants a bit of both.
“Bradley?” your tense voice travels from inside the room.
He sighs, leaning his forehead into the door. “Who else would it be?”
“You can’t be here,” you call from inside the room.
Bradley juts out his jaw and starts nervously fiddling with his cuff links. “I’m only here because you’re not out there.”
After a pause during which Bradley anxiously watches the closed door, you speak again, your voice closer now, as though you’re standing just on the other side of it. “It’s bad luck for you to see me in my wedding gown.”
Bradley closes his eyes, his hand already on the doorknob. “Sweetheart, it’s even worse luck if the bride doesn’t show up.”
3k celebration
#top gun blurb#bradley bradshaw drabble#rooster drabble#miles teller fic#top gun imagine#miles teller imagine#ask game#top gun drabble#rooster fanfic#tgm fic#top gun maverick#bradley bradshaw x female reader#rooster x you#rooster angst#bradley bradshaw angst#bradley bradshaw au#bradley bradshaw x y/n#rooster x y/n#rooster x female reader#rooster x f!reader
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Fries, Goodbyes & The Rest Of Our Lives
Summary: Being stood up isn’t always a bad thing.
Warnings/Genre etc.: Fluff, lousy singing.
W/C: 2k
Pairing: Rooster x Fem!Reader (you - no descriptions of body type or ethnicity).
READ IT NOW: Tumblr // A03
#top gun maverick#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw#rooster#top gun maverick fanfic#top gun maverick fan fiction#rooster fan fic#reader insert#rooster singing#rooster fluff#bradley bradshaw fluff#meet cute#rooster x reader#rooster x you#rooster x female reader#rooster x f!reader#rooster x fem!reader#tgm#tgm fanfiction#tgm fic#top gun fic
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One Shot: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw X Wife!Reader. Moodboard
Where Is My Daddy?
Warning: Allusion to sex, but no smut. Sad Bradley, fluff (my first time writing fluff story), a little bit angst. English is my second language. Feel free to give me a comment about my writing and grammars mistakes.
Author Note: this is my first time writing fluff in this blog, I hope you guys like it. If you want to be tagged just let me know in the comment. I can't reply to any of your comments because it's sideblog. But I really thankful for your comments and responds.
***
Summary: Bradley have to shave his moustache, this is how he's children reacted.
****
Bradley Bradshaw steps into his house with a grey mask covering half of his face. His aviator is on her eyes. He walked into his house without saying anything. Normally, he'll shout out called his wife or children to notify them he's home.
But he just walked in without saying something. He let out a sigh and walked toward the living room. He sit down on the couch and remove his aviator from his eyes, he placed it on the coffee table. He rest his head on the armchair and closed his eyes.
***
(Y/N) heard the front door open but no sound of someone called, she pause her task washing the fruits and washing her hand on the sink, she then turn off the faucet.
She walked toward the living room and furrowed her eyebrows seeing her husband sleeping on the couch with a mask on, his flight suit still on. She walked to him and sit down beside him. She placed her hand on his biceps.
"Honey." She called out gently and Bradley open his eyes. He turned his head to her.
"What's wrong? Why do you sleep with a mask on" She furrowed her eyebrows at him.
"Nothing baby, I just want to use a mask" his voice is muffled with the mask on and shrugs of his shoulder.
"Are you sick?" She touched his forehead with the back of her hand but his temperature is normal.
"I'm okay, I just want to put the mask on" Bradley lifts her (Y/N) hand from his forehead and kisses the back of her hand. But something feels different. Bradley hold her hand and rub it with his thumb
"Honey, can you open your mask?" (Y/N) ask him gently.
"Why?" Bradley's voice laced with scared.
"I just want to see your face" (Y/N) shrugs and smile at him.
"You can see my eyes, you said you like to stare at my eyes" Bradley's voice is disturbed now.
"I know, but I want to see your face" (Y/N) try to open the mask but Bradley pulls his body away from her. (Y/N) pouted at him and give him puppy dog eyes, his weakness. Bradley let out a defeated sigh and nodded.
"Okay" Bradley then lifts his hands to his ears and opens the strap mask that hooks in his ears. When his mask is off, (Y/N) covered her mouth with her hand and lets out a gasp. She looked at him with wide eyes.
"What the fuck happened Bradley!!" (Y/N) shout out to him when she saw his face. There, his moustache was cut out into a square, like a Charlie Chaplin style.
"It was Hangman's fault" Bradley exclaimed, he folded his arms in his chest.
"What're you two doing this time" (Y/N) asked him, she can't believe they actually shave Bradley's moustache. The Dagger team always told her that they want to see Bradley without stache. But she just thought, it was just a utterance, she didn't believe they actually do it.
"I didn't do anything. I just lost a game with him" He mumbled to her.
"What game?" (Y/N) stared at him with raised eyebrows. Bradley mumbled something that (Y/N) can't hear.
"What?" She asked him again to speak louder.
"UNO" Bradley declared to her.
(Y/N) let out a sigh and shook her head. "You know you can't play UNO without me, Honey.." She touches Bradley's face and turns his face to her.
"I know, I just want to prove to him that I'm better than him in anything" Bradley exclaimed throwing his hands on his thighs.
"Yeah, but not with UNO. I bet he has Phoenix as his backup" (Y/N) claimed.
"Yeah" Bradley mumbled under his breath. He renews how he lost the game this afternoon.
***
It was a free day for Dagger Team on Top Gun class. They actually have a class with Maverick today, but Maverick have to attend a meeting with Admirals so he ended the class early and dismissed them.
But the team have something in their mind. They decide to play a little game before going home.
They suggest every game that they have in mind like hand wrestle, but Phoenix suggested something different, UNO.
Phoenix said she 'accidentally' bring UNO in her pocket and she thought it'll gonna be fun to play it with the team.
The team merge four tables became one and sit down, circling the table. Hangman shuffle the card in his hands and told them the rules. "The last person that still has a card is considered a loser, and they have to do whatever the winner says, deal?"
"Deal," They said in unison. Rooster was so confident he's gonna win and have a smug smile on his face during the entire game.
The first people to finish their card is Phoenix and Bob. They make a handshake when they became the first ones to finish. Next is Coyote, despite he got two +4 from Bob he manages to finish after them.
Next is Payback after got reversed a fourth time by Rooster. And then Fanboy after he got the jackpot, four of his card is the same number. So he slams all of his cards on the table and does a little dance.
"In your face Bradshaw!" He yelled at Rooster after Rooster gave him +4 when he just got one card left.
Now it's just Rooster and Hangman, Rooster has two cards left and Hangman has three cards left. Rooster is so confident he's gonna win this game. He has one yellow +2 and the number five in yellow. He'll gonna place the +2 first and after Hangman got two cards from the stack, He'll gonna slam the remaining cards he has left in his face.
"You know, I want you to cut your hair in buzz after this" Rooster spoke confidently to Hangman. Hangman just gives him a smirk and a little laugh.
"In your dreams bird boy" Hangman taunted him. Rooster then placed his +2 on the table, Hangman then let out a laugh at him, a mocking laugh.
How shocked Rooster is after Hangman placed his remaining card that is contained with +4 . He placed one bye one in dramatical way. Hangman stand up and laughed mockingly at him.
"Fuck!!" Rooster shouts out in disbelief staring at Hangman's card.
"No!! You're cheating! How can you get three +4!" Rooster stand up and pointed at Hangman.
"I'm not cheating" Hangman offended at Rooster accused him. "You're the one that sucks at playing"
"Maybe you shouldn't try to play UNO without your wife around, Bradshaw" Phoenix give him a mocking smirk.
"Now, I want to shave your moustache" Hangman pointed out.
"What!? NO! I'm not gonna shave my moustache, It's a saint for me" Rooster covered his stache with his hand. Hangman let out a sigh of Rooster's wrong accusation.
"I. Want. To. Shave. Your. Moustache" Hangman emphasised to him.
"That's so much worse! As I said, it's a saint for me. You can't shave it. Besides you can't make the decision, there are still other people that finish before you" Rooster step back from his chair and walked backwards.
"They want me to decide what punishment you should get," Hangman told him, Rooster looked at them behind Hangman and they just smirked and nodded their head.
"Oh no no no. You guys collude to do this to me" He shakes his head in disbelief and pointed his fingers at them. Phoenix rolled her eyes, done with Rooster's accusations.
"Rooster, you make a deal. A soldier never breaks their deal" Phoenix remarked to him
"But not with this!" Rooster snaps at them. Hangman has enough, he rolled his eyes and told the boys to hold him. "Boys, hold him"
Rooster tries to run away but Coyote is in front of him. "NO! Coyote, backup!" He warned him.
Behind him, Payback tackles him to the ground "No No No. Let me go Payback. LET ME GO" Fanboy got hold of Rooster's left hand. Coyote spring in action and got to hold his right hand, Bob helped with holding his legs. They lift him and sit him down on the chair, still got hold of him. They laughed at Rooster.
Hangman then bends down to face Rooster, he gives him a triumphant smirk.
"FUCK YOU SERESIN!! I'M GONNA KILL YOU IN YOUR SLEEP" Rooster moved his head side to side when he saw Hangman bringing an electric shaving blade. Phoenix who just sit and watched the entire scene, decide to help and holds Rooster's head.
"PHOENIX, I HATE YOU TOO. YOU SUPPOSED TO HELP ME NOT HIM" Phoenix got this weird bond with Hangman after the uranium mission, it makes him happy at first because he knows Phoenix had a little crush on Hangman on their first day at Top Gun, but knowing he's an asshole, she buries her feelings and turns it into hating him.
But now, this weird bond cost him this. How he wishes Hangman is still an asshole right now. No, He is still an Asshole!!
Hangman placed a chair in front of him and sit down facing the back chair. He scooted his chair closer to Rooster.
"Relax Bradshaw, it's not gonna hurt" Hangman give him a sarcastic smile. He turn on the shaver and brought the shaver closed to his moustache.
"HELP ME! I'VE BEEN ABDUCTED. HELP ME!" Rooster shouts out and tries to release himself from their grip, but their grip is too strong.
"MAV! HELP ME!" He called out for Maverick but no one is in the hangar. All of the students have been dismissed because the meetings called out all of the Top Gun Instructors and staff.
Hangman tries to shave Rooster's stache but he always opens his mouth and makes him struggle to do his task.
Hangman let out an annoyed sigh.
"If you don't stop talking, I'll accidentally cut your lips," Hangman told him. Phoenix in action put her hand on Rooster's mouth to stop him from opening his mouth.
"FUCK YOU GUYS" his voice is muffled in Phoenix's hand. Hangman happily cut his stache.
****
"HAHAHA..." (Y/N) laughed double over at Bradley's story. She can imagine Bradley's face when being held.
"It's not funny" He whined. But (Y/N) just keep laughing at him. She placed her hand on her stomach because it hurt from laughing. She falls to her back and lands on the couch behind her, but half of her body doesn't touch the couch which makes her fall to the floor butt first. She let out a shrike.
"Aw shit" Bradley laughed at her falling. (Y/N) stand up and rub her sore butt.
"It's not funny" she pouted at him.
"Yes, it is funny," Bradley says between his laughter.
"I hate you" (Y/N) pouted and stomped her foot on Bradley's feet. The impact is not that hurt because Bradley using his combat boot. But it still stings. Bradley let out a hiss.
(Y/N) walked away from him.
"Wait! baby! I'm just kidding" Bradley called out but (Y/N) had already disappeared on the stairs. He stands up and tries to catch her.
"Baby, I'm sorry, I'm just joking. I know it is hurt" He called out from the stairs. Guess Bradley needs something to make it up.
***
After buying her a bouquet of her favourite flower, a box of chocolate, and one bag of her favourite foods. (Y/N) forgive Bradley.
After she got their ten months baby to sleep, they lay behind the duvet, naked, reminiscing after their lovemaking. (Y/N) lay her head on Bradley's chest and he rub his hand up and down in (Y/N) naked back.
(Y/N) shift her head to look at Bradley and Bradley looked at her, a goofy smile on her face. She then giggles quietly at him.
Bradley smile and leaned to kiss her and she kiss him back. She deepened the kiss and push her body forward with her elbow propped on Bradley's chest. (Y/N) move forward to straddle Bradley's waist.
They parted apart to catch their breath. They breathe heavily with their foreheads touching. (Y/N) lift her hand to touch Bradley's lips, she rubs his upper lips with her thumb.
"Wow, it feels different without the stache" (Y/N) muttered to him, she remove her thumb from his lips and peck his lips.
"How different?" Bradley asked.
"There's no tingling thing on my lips whenever I kiss you" She shrugs her shoulder.
"Tingling thing?" He lifts his eyebrows, intrigued.
"Yeah, It gets itchy when we kissed but I kinda like it. It adding some sensation" She said huskily and give him a seductive smirk.
Bradley decided to shave his stache, he said he can't live with that ridiculous style of the stache.
"Oh, so you have kink with my stache, Mrs Bradshaw?" Bradley snake his arms on her waist and turn her around so she was beneath him now. (Y/N) let out a squeak and give him a peck on his lips when she was under him.
"You know, I agreed to marry you because I'm in love with your stache," she said playfully. She traces her finger where his stache before.
"Oh, my stache huh?" He scoffed playfully. He planted his hands beside her head so his weight did not crush her.
"Yeah, whenever you between my legs, I just thinking about your stache, whenever you kiss my skin, I'm thinking about your stache," She said seductively at him and kiss him at every end of the sentence.
"I feel betrayed now. So you don't love me now because I don't have stache anymore?" He said dramatically, he make a pouty face.
"Of course not silly, I still love you, but I love Bradley 'Stache' Bradshaw more. So you better grow it fast, Mister" She bob his nose, Bradley grinned at her and leaned in to kiss her. When the kiss gets heated, the baby monitor on the table turns on, and a soft cry comes out from it. Bradley lift his face from (Y/N) and stared at the baby monitor.
"Oh shit, I think we awake the soldier" (Y/N) turn her head too and stared at the baby monitor.
"I can get him" Bradley turn to the side of the bed and begin to stand up, but (Y/N) placed her hand on Bradley's chest.
"No, you stay here, I can get him" (Y/N) stand up and find her robe at the end of the bed.
"But he'll sleep faster with me, so we can get our third round faster" Bradley suggested, he lift his upper body with his hand and saw (Y/N) tying her robe.
"So, I'm a bad mother because I can't get my son to sleep myself?" (Y/N) turned to face him and scoffed at him. Bradley looked at her with wide eyes, it was two in the morning and they had just made up in the fall accident, he doesn't want to sleep on the couch now.
"Th-that's not what I mean, baby, You know.." he stammer, but (Y/N) face changed and she let out snorts, she giggles at him.
"I'm just kidding, honey, he's probably hungry now because he sleeps from 7 PM. Unless you can produce milk now, I'll let you get him" She folded her arms and suggested to him. Bradley now moves into a sitting position on the bed.
"For that special duty, I hand it to you, Your Majesty," He bowed his head a bit, and stick his hand in please manners.
(Y/N) shake her head and giggles at her husband's silliness.
***
The sound of a bell ringing in her front door makes (Y/N) attention from the TV change. She stand up from the couch and walked towards the front door. When she opened it, her Mom and Five years old daughter with the pink dress and little pony backpack stood on her porch.
"Mommy.." her daughter throw herself on her waist and make her lean back slightly.
"Hey princess" (Y/N) caress her daughter's hair.
"Hey mom" her mom smiled and (Y/N) leaned to hug her but struggle with five years old still clinging to her waist. Her mom ended up moving forward to hug her. "Hey, sweetie,"
"Come in mom" (Y/N) then lift Elle to her hips and Elle circle her arms on (Y/N) neck. She then placed both her hands on Ella's butt to support her.
Elle, their oldest, spent three days with her parents. Her parents said, they miss her granddaughter and want to meet her. Despite, they just live 10 minutes away from her.
"Oh no sweetie I can't" Her mom waved her hand, rejecting.
"Why?" She furrowed her eyebrows at her.
"Your dad is in hospital, he broke his hips while playing scooter with Ella" Her mom shrugged nonchalantly.
"He playing what!?" (Y/N) shout out looking at her mom with wide eyes. "Is it bad?" She asked worried about her dad state.
"I don't know, when I left him to take Ella home, the nurse still examined him," Her mom shrugs her shoulder.
"Oh no," (Y/N) covered her mouth with one of her hands.
"No worries, I think it's not that bad, sweetie, it's your dad," her mom waves her hand telling her not to worry.
"Can you call me when his results come out?" (Y/N) grabbed her mom's hand, her face full of worries. "Of course sweetheart?" Her mom nodded at her, her mom places her hand on her biceps and squeeze it.
"Where's your husband, bye the way?" She looked over (Y/N) shoulder, trying to peer for Bradley. "Bradley still taking a shower upstairs"
Her mom then moves forward to hug her, she then kisses (Y/N) and Ella on the cheek. "Send my love to him. Bye sweetie, Bye Princess"
Ella and (Y/N) waved at her goodbye
"Bye Nana..." Ella said happily, they waited until her mom drive away from their house.
(Y/N) bring Ella inside of the house, she closed the door behind her with her leg.
"Did you have fun with Nana and Pappy?" She asked Ella while walking toward the living room. Ella nodded happily.
"Yeah, they brought me a lot of things. Pappy teach me how to ride a scooter. I can ride my Scooter, but Pappy fell off from it" Ella fidgeting with (Y/N) hair in her hand. Ella continues her story, (Y/N) just listening to her story until it is finished. "And and we go to the hospital because Nana said, Pappy broke his hips again"
"What you mean again?" (Y/N) furrowed her eyebrows at Ella's story about her father breaking his hips again.
"Yesterday we climbed a tree and Pappy fell off from it." Ella shrugs her shoulder. (Y/N) then sit her on the couch and take off her shoes and backpack. "Where's my Daddy, Mommy?" Ella asked, swinging her tiny legs on the couch.
"He's upstairs princess, taking a shower" (Y/N) sits beside her and kisses her forehead.
"I want my daddy Mommy" she stared at her with puppy dog eyes.
"Why don't you surprise him upstairs?" (Y/N) suggested, Ella then happily jump from the couch and run to the stairs.
"Don't run on the stairs princess" she called out to her. She heard Ella opening Her and Bradley's bedroom door.
When (Y/N) continues watching TV, she heard Ella shrinking upstairs.
"MOMMY"
(Y/N) run upstairs and open her bedroom door harshly, there, Bradley kneels in front of Ella, his hair still wet from the shower. And Ella just stood there and looked at Bradley terrified.
"What's wrong princess?" (Y/N) kneeled beside her and embraced her.
"Who is that?" Ella hide her face on her (Y/N) neck, she peeks a look at Bradley and pointed her finger at him, she looked terrified.
"It's me, princess it's Daddy" Bradley moves forward to them but Ella hides her face further to (Y/N) neck and (Y/N) rubs her back. "You're not my daddy," Ella sniffles on (Y/N) neck.
"Princess, it's me, it's daddy" Bradley try to touch her but Ella shrieks at him. "No!! I don't want you, I want my daddy. Mommy, I want daddy"
Bradley face is full of shock and sadness, his daughter don't recognise him, she despise him.
"That is Daddy princess," (Y/N) reassurance her, Ella lift her head to look at (Y/N), her tears spill down on her cheek and she pouted "No, my daddy has hair on his lips, he doesn't have any hair, Mommy" her finger pointed to Bradley behind her.
"But princess, it is daddy, look," Bradley lifts his shirt and repeals a faded fish drawing in his stomach "I still have fish you drew on me last week" Ella looked at the drawing for a second and drew her face back to (Y/N). "Mommy I want daddy" she begins crying now, her tears streaming down her face, and she buries her face in (Y/N). "Shush princess, Mommy's here" (Y/N) rub her back trying to calm her down.
Bradley looked hurt, he gave (Y/N) a sorrowful look and slumped his shoulder. He stared at crying Ella, (Y/N) looked at him feeling guilty and sympathy.
A baby monitor on the bedside table suddenly turns on, and a sound of the baby babbling and mumbling 'dada' come out through the monitor.
"Honey, can you go see Andy?" (Y/N) give him an apologetic look, she feels bad for Bradley.
"Yeah.." Bradley nodded and stand up. He walked to (Y/N) and bend down to kiss her hair. Ella cries tenser when Bradley wants to kiss her. Bradley let out a sigh, he looked at Ella crying in (Y/N) before he closed the door.
***
When Bradley step inside his baby room, Andy is standing in his crib. Andy babbled the word Dada in his crib and giggled happily.
"Hey, Buddy.." When Bradley walked closer to him. He stopped babbling. He stared at Bradley, curious and trying to figure out who he was.
"Dada.." he called out.
"Yes, it is Dada Buddy" Bradley smiled brightly at him, when he stepped closer to try to pull him out from his Crib, Andy started crying.
"Dada......." His cheeks were red and tears streaming down freely on his cheeks. He mumbled Dada in his cry.
"What? It's me, Buddy, It's Dada" Bradley's voice is now full of panic, he tries to touch him but Andy pulls himself down from his crib and crawls to the side. "Dada..." His cry was louder now.
(Y/N) came rushing with sobbing Ella in her arms. "What happened?" She asked Bradley, panic about what has gotten to their son that made him cry out loud.
"I think they hate me" Bradley mumbled, his eyes watered, his face full of sorrow and dejected. He turns and walked out of the room.
(Y/N) try to call him but Bradley ignores her, "Honey.." she call again but he walked out of the room and closed the door behind him.
***
After making Ella sleeps and feeding Andy until he sleeps, (Y/N) walked inside their shared bedroom, she saw Bradley laying on his stomach and his face buried in the pillow beneath him. She gets to her side of the bed and sits down crossed legs beside him, she places her hand on his back.
She heard him sniff a few times, he must be crying, she thought.
"I hate Hangman. I hate him" his voice muffled in the pillow. "My kids hate me now, my princess hates me, my buddy hates me"
"Oh honey, they don't hate you, they just don't recognise you without the stache" (Y/N) caressing his hair. Bradley then turn his head to faces her. His face is red, his eyes are glistening and bloodshot, and his cheeks stained with tears. (Y/N) heart broke seeing Bradley like this.
"Oh Bradley, come here" (Y/N) patted her lap and Bradley turn his body and lay his head on (Y/N) lap, he buried his face on (Y/N) stomach and hug her waist.
(Y/N) massage Bradley's head and brush his hair with her hand.
"My princess hates me, baby, she hates me, she's crying when she saw me. She adores me before, whenever she wakes up I'm the first person she asked for, I'm her daddy, my princess (Y/N), she hates me now, she despises me" His voice muffled in her stomach and he begin crying again.
"She doesn't hate you, honey, she just doesn't recognise you without the stache. You know she always saw you with the stache, and now seeing you clean-shaven it's new to her. Give her time, she'll come to you soon, you know you're her hero." (Y/N) reassurance him.
"What about my buddy, my son (Y/N)? He was crying when he saw me, my buddy, my son, my baby, he saw me like I'm some monster. His first word is dada, he just knows dada as his word, and now whenever he saw me, he's crying. He hates me (Y/N)" Bradley's crying is louder now and he shouts out (Y/N) names. (Y/N) turn Bradley's face to look at her.
"Hey hey hey, no one hates you, not even Andy, he doesn't hate you, He. Just. Doesn't. Recognise. You." (Y/N) emphasised her last sentence to make her statement clear. "He's ten months Bradley, and he always saw you before with a stache and now you shave it, of course, he doesn't recognise you," she said firmly. He sniffed a few times, (Y/N) and then wiped his tears with her thumb.
"But I want to play with them, I want to play with my Princess and Buddy. I want to take her on a date like we always do, I miss them, especially my princess, I've never saw her for three days." He pouted at her.
When Ella is at her grandparent's house, Bradley always facetime her, three times a day.
"Soon when your stache grows back" She wipe the new tears that escaped his eyes.
"That's too long" he whined.
"Then We can buy a fake stache in the store" (Y/N) suggested.
"No, Hangman side that thing is itchy" He pouted.
"So, you have to wait until your stache grows back" (Y/N) said to him firmly.
"But I want to play-"His voice cut out by the bedroom door being open. (Y/N) and Bradley whips their head to the noise.
"Mommy.." Ella with her Beauty and The Beast pyjamas and little pony doll in her arms step inside the bedroom. Her lips jutted out and tears streaming down her face. Bradley lifts his head from (Y/N) lap. she then stands up and walked to Ella.
"Oh, what's wrong princess.." she coos. She lifts her and places Ella on her hips. Ella buried her face in (Y/N) neck.
"I have a nightmare, Mommy" she sobs and (Y/N) rubs her back to calm her down. "What nightmare, princess..?"
"Daddy leaves us.." She sniffed
"Daddy doesn't leave us, princess, Daddy's here" (Y/N) reassured her and walked her towards the bed. Bradley sits cross leg on the bed and wipes his cheeks with his shirt.
(Y/N) place Ella standing on the bed. Ella lift her head to look at (Y/N). "Where's Daddy..",
"That's daddy Princess." (Y/N) pointed to Bradley behind her and Ella turned her head to look at him.
"Hey, Princess.." Bradley waved at her and give her a smile.
Ella walked towards him. "Are you really Daddy?"
"Of course, You remember you drew this flower on my arm before you go to Nana and Pappy's house? You said it was for me so I'll always remember you when you're away from me" Bradley lifts his sleeve and show a daisy flower drawing with a permanent marker on his bicep. Ella touch the drawing and giggle, she then threw herself on Bradley's neck.
"Daddy.." she squeals happily and smiles on Bradley's face is back. "Hey, my princess.." Bradley hugs her and smoothed her hair. (Y/N) smile at them and shook her head. She sit down on the bed and watched carefully their interaction.
Ella lifts her head and sits on Bradley's lap. She touches his upper lips. "But where your hair Daddy?"
"Daddy has to shave it because it's itchy, Princess" Bradley brought Ella's hand to his lips and kiss it.
"Is it really itchy?" She asked, wondering.
"Yeah, it's Itchy sometimes" He scrunched his nose to her.
"Oh," Ella said, disappointed, she pouted her lips and looked down. Bradley lift her face with his finger,
"What happened, princess?" He asked softly. he then brushes her hair that got into her face.
"I just like you with hair on your lips, you're more handsome with the hair" Ella shrugs her shoulder. "Is it?" He asked, inquisitively.
"Yeah" Ella nodded and giggle when Bradley playfully poke her stomach. He then brought Ella to lay down with him on the bed. Ella squealed and giggle happily.
"You and your Mommy are the same, Princess" Bradley looked at (Y/N) whose laying on her side and watching them with one hand propped on her head. "It's a prove she's my daughter, Bradshaw" (Y/N) gives him a small smile.
"Can I sleep with you, Daddy?" Ella asked him, her head resting on his shoulder, she trace the outline of Jet's figure on his shirt.
"Certainly, My princess, here, get comfy" Bradley adjusts Ella in his arms to make her comfy to sleep in his arms.
"Is your hair gonna grown again, Daddy?" Ella lifts her head to look at him. "Of course Princess, but it'll gonna take sometimes"
" That's Good" Ella nodded and back to trace the outline on Bradley's shirt.
"Why's good?" Bradley lifts his eyebrows to her, curious. "Because I like to play with it, and Andy loves it too, it makes him laugh when you kiss him"
Ella like to play with Bradley's stache, she said it was soft like her barbie hair. Sometimes, whenever Ella sleeps with him, she'll have her hand on his stache, when Bradley tries to lift her hand, she'll place her hand back on his stache again.
"Okay Princess, "Bradley kissed Ella's cheek. Ella giggles at him.
Ella then move forward to him and whispered to his ear "Good night Daddy, I love you" She then kissed his cheek.
"I love you too Princess" Bradley kisses her forehead.
Ella turns to (Y/N) and kisses her cheek. "Good night Mommy, I love you"
"Love you too Princess" (Y/N) kisses her cheek and forehead. Ella back to Bradley's arms and let out a yawn. Bradley rubs her back until she falls asleep. (Y/N) stared at them and brush the hair that got on Ella cheek.
"What about Andy?" Bradley whispered to her. After silence for a minutes.
"Guess, we should buy that fake stache, Bradshaw" (Y/N) told him playfully.
"Oh no..." He whined.
#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw fic#bradley bradshaw x female reader#bradley bradshaw x y/n#rooster x f!reader#top gun maverick#bradley bradshaw#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw x female reader#bradley x reader#rooster x female reader#rooster x y/n#Bradley x wife reader
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Terms Of Endearment // Bradley Bradshaw
Series Masterlist
Summary: They always say when you aren’t looking for love it tends to find you. So when you and your daughter turn up in Fighter Town, Bradley Bradshaw is instantly infatuated. With reluctance to trust and harbouring a bad past, you don’t make it easy for the fighter pilot to love you.
Warnings: Will be allocated to appropriate chapters. Bradley Bradshaw x F!reader. Jake Seresin x Platonic!F!Reader.
~ Terms of Endearment Main Masterlist Link ~
1. Matchmaker // Jake Seresin decides to take your love life into his own hands when an opportune moment falls into his lap.
2. Sunny Side // Rooster picks up your daughter from daycare.
3. Pillow Cases // After looking after your daughter for the afternoon, Rooster questions you about the pile of unwrapped Christmas presents in the closet. Your response? Something he’ll never forget.
4. Branded Father Figures // Bradley stays the night only to join in on a tradition Jake Seresin had been keeping a secret. Learning a few things about your past.
5. Christmas Crisis // Jake spends Christmas with his family and is told an ugly fact. Bradley spends Christmas Eve and morning with you and Dot—enjoying the calm before the storm.
6. The Calm Before The Storm // After Christmas lunch at Penny and Pete’s house, you and Bradley venture home. But don’t make it without a hitch.
7. The Clash // When Jaidyn Dolan moved to town Bradley Bradshaw gears up for the fight of his life. Having your back without question.
8. In Shades Of Terror // Things between you and Bradley and you and Jake reach a boiling point when Jake returns home, he finds himself spilling the beans about how him and Bradley knew about Jaidyn being in town.
9. To Build a Home // You’re finally approved for your own home through staff accommodation. But when you find out who your neighbour is you’re at a loss for words.
10. Biggest Stans // We see just how long Jake Seresin as been your biggest stand for and Bradley asked an all important question. If you’d consider moving in with him.
11. Trifecta // Jaidyn’s on a revenge driven path that’s only just the beginning.
12. Chase That Feeling // An unhinged Jaidyn causes chaos as Jake meets a woman who’s willing to put her front foot forward and Bob plays the hero card.
13. Dammed if you do, Dammed if you don’t // Jaidyn takes the games he playing to a whole knee level while Jake and Bradley do all that they can to get the higher ups involved.
14. Unlikely Savours // Jake and Bradley butt heads over what they need to do when Jake gets a call. Everyone’s racing against the clock, to find you and get to Dot.
15. Bringing in the reinforcements // Bob makes a call to someone he knows will be able to help and Amilia stalls Jaidyn to give Jake enough time to reach Dot.
16. It’s been a long, long day // Jake and Bradley reunite after having gone their separate ways. You need surgery and it’s not a good prognosis.
17. Not So Malice Intentions // When you wake up from surgery to find out Jake wants to keep Dot from seeing you for a first days, all hell breaks loose.
18. Cowboys & Apologists // When you wake up from being heavily sedated to a stranger but familiar man sitting in the corner of your room—you don’t take well to the carbon copy of Bob Floyd
19. It’s Personal // A week passes you by and you’re still in the hospital. You miss your daughters third birthday, Bradley goes in to bat for you against the Secretary of Defense and Jake has a run in with an intruder.
20. Yellow Polkadots // In the aftermath of Jakes unexpected intruder, decisions are made that bring you and your baby girl back together. Bradley struggles with a hard interior design decision & Jaidyn gets comfortable in his finale plot to end your happily ever after.
21. Heaven // (Part One) (Part Two) (Part Three) Discharged from hospital after suffering severe injuries from a near fatal run in with your ex has you high strung and on edge. For good reason too, you should always trust your instincts because no one around you is safe from the chaos that transpires in our final two part finale.
~~ Complete ~~
Concepts & Blurbs
-> Marked // Jake sees the infamous cattle prod mark your ex left behind.
-> Bobby Bear // Robert Floyd left this world too soon. But does Odette see his ghost when she’s a little girl?
-> Lessons in Love & War // On one of your first shifts back at work after the events of ToE. Odette is plagued with an illness that sends her to the emergency room with a very panicked Bradley Bradshaw.
-> Bath-time // Bath time isn’t always an easy feat when your little girl is afraid of baths. But they do make for some core memories.
-> Tunder Storm Sleep Overs // With a heavily pregnant wife and a toddler afraid of a raging thunderstorm outside. Bradley kicks into his favourite mode. Dad mode.
-> Easter Time // You don’t have an Easter Bunny—you have an Easter Rooster.
-> The sex positive couple // You and Bradley are busy getting it on when your daughter wakes up from hearing noises in the night. Afraid you’re hurt she calls for you.
-> Baby R // Riley Carole Bradshaw makes her big entrance to the world when Jakes in Texas and Bradley isn’t sure if he’s ready to be a dad twice over.
-> The Eternal Mark // When at the Abbott Ranch for thanksgiving, the sound and sight of a cattle prod has you feeling like you’d been thrown back in time into the arms of the man who swore blind he was going to kill you.
-> From Tooster to Rooster // The first time Odette calls Bradley Rooster and not Tooster.
-> Dots Promise Ring // Odette forever keeps the promise ring Rooster gave to her as a child. But one day she throws it away.
-> The not so real dad dad // Young, dumb and oh so impressionable Odette Bradshaw freaks out after the police show up at a house party she snuck out to. Calling her uncle to come get her didn’t go according to plan.
-> Sticks & Stones // The one where Rooster finds out about the time you absolutely let loose on your daughter during her teenage hellion years while he was on an eight week deployment. And the one you find out you weren’t the only one who kept parenting secrets.
-> Dots Pot // Bradley knows his oldest daughter smokes weed on the roof. I’m an attempt to stay hip with the youth he joins in—only to be left a paralytic on the couch. Outsmarted and out numbed.
-> Fruit of my loins // Odette Bradshaw is full of existential dilemmas about who she is and where she fits in. In an attempt to figure herself out, she goes to see the man who never wanted her in the first place.
-> Brother & Sister love // The dynamic between the Bradshaw siblings.
-> Uncle Jakes second wedding. // Jake has a no kids wedding and Odette isn’t too happy about the situation. Giving him one hell of an attitude about it.
-> Jake & Amilia // A glimpse into the fuck around that is Jake Seresins first marriage to a woman called Ellie who would never be Amilia.
-> Dot & Chase - The Dagger babies // Odette Bradshaw isn’t the easiest girl to get along with, and doesn’t Chase Fitch know that. -> Dot & Chase 2.0
-> What does Odette do for a living? What Nicky & What Riley Do for a living. The Bradshaw’s siblings go leaps and bounds in their respective careers. From soccer players to aviators to lawyers.
-> The Commanders Daughter // Odettes TopGun instructors.
***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~
#bradley bradshaw x female reader#bradley bradshaw fanfiction#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader#rooster x f!reader#jake seresin imagine#jake hangman seresin series#Bradley rooster bradshaw series#top gun bradley bradshaw#top gun rooster#top gun jake seresin
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Kinktober Day 28-Sex Pollen
warnings: gender neutral!reader, dubcon, sex pollen, TGM spoilers, mentions of injury, mentions of semi-public sex, 18+ minors dni
kinktober masterlist
main masterlist
When you heard the news that Bradley and Maverick went down behind enemy lines, you were devastated. Your heart sank and you felt sick to your stomach, like your whole life was just ripped away from you and left you standing there, cold and empty.
When you heard the news that they were flying back to the carrier in an old F-14 after Jake saved them, you and your fellow pilots celebrated. Jumping, cheering, high fives, a few chest bumps here and there. A seemingly impossible mission completed with some difficulty, but no casualties.
The boys landed and you tried to push your way through the crowd to get to Rooster, but you couldn’t make it through the dense swarm. You watched from a distance as Bradley and Maverick hugged, and Jake and Bradley shook hands and shared a warm smile. It warmed your heart to see the connection your boyfriend has built with both men in these last few weeks.
Bradley finally makes it out of the crowd and spots you. As he’s walking over, his smile seems to fade and it’s like someone has dropped an elephant on his back.
“Baby,” he groans as he throws himself into your arms.
You hug him tightly, but he doesn’t hug you back. He’s limp in your hold, dead weight threatening to topple you over.
“What’s the matter?” you ask, figuring it’s a dumb question but you might as well ask.
Bradley pulls back from the hug and you see his eyes, droopy and rimmed with red. His lips are parted just slightly and he seems to be breathless.
“Need you,” he whispers.
Your brows furrow. “What?”
“Need you so bad. It fucking burns, honey. Please… we gotta find somewhere soon because I can’t take it anymore.” His voice has a desperate edge to it, like he really is in pain, so you grab his hand and lead him away from the crowd.
After a short walk, you find a secluded closet and you pull Bradley into it. You shut the door and almost instantly, your back is being pressed firmly into it.
“What happened?” you ask.
“Mav and I… we got into somethin’. Don’t know what it was but it made me feel awful. I felt so sick and then…”
“Then what?”
“God, I got so hard,” he groans.
Your eyes widen and you look down to see the sizable bulge in your boyfriend’s pants. You trail your fingertips over it and his hips buck, desperate searching for more friction.
“Oh, Bradley… how long have you been like this?”
“Feels like days. Mav and I were trying to start up the F-14 and there was some power that blew into my face and Jesus Christ I think I’m gonna die.”
You wrap your arms around his waist and pull him close in what was meant to be a hug, but he took it as an opportunity to rub himself against your hip.
“Everything hurts so bad. My throat itches, my head is pounding, and I’m so fuckin’ hot.”
You manage to unzip his flight suit a little to find his black t-shirt underneath soaked through with sweat. He buries his face into the crook of your neck and holds you as close as he possibly can.
“Didn’t realize how bad it was until we landed. Saw you and it got even worse. Fuck, baby, I need to fuck you. Need to feel you around my cock or I swear to god I’m gonna lose my mind.”
You nod quickly and scramble to think about how you can help him. You’re not really one to have sex in public, but if it’s between your modesty and your boyfriend’s life…
“Fuck me, Bradley.”
if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging. engagement had been down recently due to tumblr’s new censorship of fanfiction that includes smut, and i want to be able to share my work with as many people as possible. if you want to be tagged in future fics, fill out the form for my taglist found on my pinned post. thank you for reading <3
#top gun#bradley bradshaw#rooster#bradley rooster bradshaw#rooster x reader#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader#rooster x female reader#bradley bradshaw x female reader#rooster x f!reader#bradley bradshaw x f!reader#top gun smut#top gun fanfic#top gun fanfiction#top gun: maverick#top gun maverick#kinktober 2022
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—THE LUCKY ONE
frat!bradley bradshaw x f!reader (aka clover)
a series of connected oneshots about the development of bradley and clover’s relationship…
part of the ‘loving you’ universe
(fics are in chronological order)
—THE START
♧ this is what it feels like
»»————- ♣︎ ————-««
—BLURBS
coming soon!
»»————- ♣︎ ————-««
—extras
coming soon!
tgm taglist: @joaquinwhorres @harrycherrylove @smoothdogsgirl @t-nd-rfoot @dempy @ollyoxenfrees @potato-girl99981 @averyhotchner @2guysonascooter @loveforaugust @blue-aconite @fandom-life-12 @stiles-banshees @iamdannyday @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @breezemood @eli2447 @angelbabyange @finelytaylored @pono-pura-vida @hecate-steps-on-me@blueoorchid @aviatorobsessed @blackwidownat2814 @hallecarey1 @averagereader35 @laneylovesglen @atarmychick007 @kajjaka @urfavelocagirl @clancycumber230 @memeorydotcom @kmc1989 @percysaidnever @thestarspangledcaptain
#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw x y/n#bradley bradshaw x you#bradley bradshaw oneshot#rooster x reader#rooster x y/n#rooster x you#rooster oneshot#bradley bradshaw x f!reader#rooster x f!reader#frat!bradley bradshaw x reader#college!au#loving you universe#rooster x clover 🍀
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Birds of a Feather 》 5
❀ Back to Navigation ❀ ❀ Top Gun Masterlist ❀
Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x F!Reader
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5
WARNINGS: Enemies to Lovers, Mentions of Injury, Angst, Cursing, and FLUFF <3
Summary: It’s finally mission day and both you and Rooster are nervous. The mission is smooth until it’s not and both you and him are put in danger, resulting in quick decisions that will decide if you live or die to see the future you and Bradley Bradshaw both desperately crave.
A/N: The final part!! OMG this took me very long to write and research and plan and... wow I just can’t believe it’s done! Thank you so much to everyone who supported this series - it was my very first time writing both for Rooster and for Top Gun, so the support as been overwhelming and so special to me. You are who encouraged me to write this and make it the best it can be. I hope you all enjoy the final installment! <3, Songbird
Word Count: 7.6K
An austere mood graced the hangar nowadays. You had been informed that, not only was the mission moved up so that it was in less than a week, but Captain Mitchell was no longer your instructor. It had happened after Coyote attempted the direct climb after the missile was dropped and up the coffin. He lost consciousness, needing Phoenix to wake him up and talk him through ejecting with little time left to spare. It was unbelievably scary, watching Coyote’s jet spin without a pilot guiding it. Thankfully, he was able to eject safely and only needed a night’s observation in the med bay. Now, though, Admiral Simpson was in charge of your little flock.
“Alright. We are imposing a new height ceiling and increasing the time to four minutes.” His statement shocks everyone, making you look at Phoenix, Fanboy, and then turn in your seat to find Rooster’s gaze. His holds the same expression you have – complete and utter confusion.
“But, sir, there’s no way we can have those parameters and come out alive. If we raise the ceiling then the SAMs will find us and if we increase the time then their patrol will be on us before we can fly out of the coffin.” Rooster says, shifting in his seat. The admiral’s lack of response says everything to the lot of you. He wasn’t planning for those flying to come back. Instead, he shifts gears.
“I want everyone up with new assignments. Hangman, your wingman will be Swan Song, WSO Fanboy. Rooster, your wingman will be Phoenix, WSO Bob.” You nodded and gathered your things, the rest of your group following suit. That is, until a slight blinking dot on the radar registered. “What is that.” The admiral says, more like a threat than a statement.
“No one is supposed to be in the air right now.” Admiral Solomon says, his eyes narrowing on the little blinking dot. You try to analyze the flight pattern, but Hangman beats you to it.
“It’s Maverick. He’s doing the course.” He says, sitting up in his chair and leaning forward. The focus of the entire room is now on that blinking dot, watching it navigate the pre-designed course at Mav’s desired height ceiling and speed. All he had to do was nail the missile. You’re holding your breath, watching as Mav nears the time limit, a camera aimed directly at the target.
“C’mon, hit it. Hit it, hit it, hit it.” You murmur. Finally, Maverick’s jet flies right over the target, landing the missile perfectly.
“Bullseye, holy shit.” Coyote exclaims.
“He did it.” Phoenix says, astonishment in her tone. Cheers and whoops echoed through the room, excitement fueling your nerves. Vice Admiral Simpson mutters something inaudible and turns in his step.
“No one is to leave this room until we reconvene.” He finally says, addressing the lot of you. He leaves the room with Rear Admiral Solomon in toe, shutting the door.
“I can’t believe he did it. He did it without another plane aiding his trajectory.” You marvel, shaking your head in shock.
“I wonder what’s gonna happen with him, though.” Phoenix comments. “I mean, he technically stole a plane to do that.”
“But he demonstrated that this mission was possible with the parameters he set up.” Rooster intervened. “That’s gotta mean something to them.” Similar agreeing sentiments spread throughout the hangar like wildfire. Phoenix leaves your side to go talk to Bob, and in her place, Rooster takes the chair next to you. “Hey,” he says.
“Hey.” you mimicked, barely able to meet his eyes without a blush taking form across your cheeks.
“I think we should talk about last night.” He states, instantly making you sweat. You nod and swallow the lump in your throat, wacking on a smile.
“Yeah, uhm, sure.” You spout quickly, a nagging feeling of your knee bouncing entering your peripheral. Instantly, Rooster spots it and lets his palm settle on the top of your kneecap, effectively nulling the movement.
“Swan,” he whispers, “I want you to know and get this out of the way first; I love you. Always have, always will.” And just like that, you’re a puddle of goo in his presence.
“Yeah, me too.” you mumble. “Love you, I mean. I love you too.” Bradley chuckles a bit and holds your hand underneath the table.
“When we’re done with this mission, I wanna take you out. Like on a real date.” At that, you scrunch your eyebrows a bit.
“Wait, what?”
“Look, if we’re going to do this, we’re doing this the right way. I’m gonna take you out to one of those Italian restaurants. Not a chain, like the real deal with candlesticks and wine and a live jazz band.”
“Rooster,” you laughed, “you don’t like Italian.” Bradley gave you a wistful smile.
“Yeah, but it’s where my dad took my mom on their first date.” A certain kind of sadness fills your pupils.
“Okay. You can take me out to an authentic Italian restaurant.” You agreed. If there were no one else in the room, you were sure that he would’ve leaned forward and given you a kiss, but instead, he just looked at you – utterly lovesick.
Eventually, the Rear Admiral made his way back to your group, dismissing you all and instructing that you meet back on the hard deck within 30 minutes. Of course, that sent you to the locker room to don your flight suit and pack, but all you could think about was replaying the memories of the morning.
Waking up in Bradley’s arms was probably the closest thing you’d ever feel to pure, undiluted happiness. Your head raised and lowered as he took long and big breaths, deep in sleep. You woke up first, your natural clock chiming in your ears before his alarm went off. You took that time, though, to admire his features. His eyelids weren’t creased and his face wasn’t scrunched in worry. His mouth was partially open, breathing measured breaths that moved the hairs of his mustache ever so slightly.
Bradley’s arms were still locked around your hips, his legs tangled with yours. You move one of your hands so that it just barely touches his face and push yourself up, just high enough so that you could press a kiss to his lips. You feel him stir and wake, his eyes barely peeking open but his grip around your waist tightening. He tugs a bit on your bottom lip before the two of you part, causing a grin to cross his cheeks.
“Not a bad way to wake up,” he says, his voice gravelly and hoarse from sleep. You hum in agreement, pressing another kiss onto the corner of his mouth.
“I should probably go knock on Phoenix’s door and get my keys back.” You whisper, placing another soft kiss on his check. Bradley lets out an exaggerated sigh and, in one fluid motion, flips the two of you so you are against his mattress and he’s above you.
“I dunno, you should probably stay here for a bit longer.” He murmurs, gently peppering kisses over your face, neck, and lips. You giggle but manage to push him away, standing up.
“I’ll see you in the hangar,” you tell him, gathering your clothes from yesterday and bundling them up.
“One last thing.” He says, motioning with his finger for you to walk back over to him. You humor Bradley, leaning down so that you’re eye-level.
“What’s that,” you inquire, spotting a playful look in his gaze. He tugs the material of yours, well, his shirt so that you’re inches from his face.
“I adore you.” He professed, giving you a hard, quick kiss. It left you feeling dizzy as all you could do was grin and return the gesture, making your way out of his door as he watched you leave. Phoenix, thank god was none the wiser as to what had occurred – taking your explanation of sleeping over at The Hard Deck with permission of Penny easily. You got the keys to your room almost instantly, but took your time walking back. If every morning waking up next to Rooster was like that, you never wanted to be alone in your bed again. You almost went back to his dorm, trying to squeeze in a couple more minutes before your actual day got started, but opted to just go back to your own. The weeks up ahead of you were not to be trifled with, pivotal in deciding which pilots got picked for the mission. So, you unlocked your door, fell onto your springy cot facing the ceiling, and relished in the feel of Bradley’s shirt until your annoying alarm clock brought you out of dreamland and into the skies.
It was a welcome sight, seeing Mav in the room, but it made everything all the more… real. You had only one day before the mission and things were getting down to the wire. Tensions were rising, nerves were getting frayed, and there had been little time to spend with those you wanted to spend time with. This, though, was where having Bradley being a coworker worked in your favor – both of you understood that, right now, your priority was to this mission – not to each other.
As you walked into the meeting room with Fanboy at your side, you gave him a nod.
“Whatever happens, whether we get picked or not,” you start, “it’s been great flying with you.” Fanboy gives you a grin and a side hug.
“Same sentiments over here… but we’re gonna get picked.” With a grin and a high five, you make your way to your seats. Maverick, for a change, is already standing there rather than coming in a bit later. A silence settles across the room as you all hold your breath in anticipation of what comes next.
“Before I get started, I want to say what a pleasure it has been flying with you all for these past couple of weeks. You have shown me what it truly means to be an instructor at Top Gun, teaching the best of the best.” Mav looks each and every one of you in the eye. “As you have already been informed, I will be the strike team lead for this mission, also known as Dagger 1. Flying behind me will be Phoenix, WSO Bob.” Beside you, Phoenix flashed Bob a grin and earned a secret high five beneath the table from you. “Dagger 2,” he begins, making you clench your fists in anticipation, “will be Rooster. Flying behind him will be Swan Song, WSO Fanboy.” You do everything you can to stay composed and calm, but the gleam in your eyes says everything. “The rest of you will be on standby, Hangman as first alternate. It is imperative you are well-rested and your mind is ready for tomorrow. We will meet at 8:30 a.m. sharp on the tarmac, suited up and ready for take off at 8:40 a.m.. Keep in mind we are also boarding the carrier in one hour – bring everything you deem necessary. I’ll see you there.” Without another word, Mav grabs the clipboard he came in with and walks outside.
You turn around towards Rooster, expecting a confident and happy smile on his face, only to see a somber expression.
“Rooster?” You ask, “What’s the matter?” His gaze flickers up towards you, something serious swimming in his eyes.
“So many things can go wrong–”
“But they won’t. Captain Mitchell chose you for a reason. He believes that you’re the best person for the job.” Rooster dips his head in a sign of acceptance and gathers his things.
“I’ll see you on the carrier.” Flashing you one last smile, albeit uncertain, he walks out. Seeing your confused expression, Phoenix hooks your arm through hers and stands the both of you up.
“C’mon, let’s go pack.”
“I guess I just don’t understand why he isn’t more excited.” You frown, sitting crossed legged on Phoenix’s cot watching her fold up her sports bra, deodorant, and her lucky necklace.
“Y/N, c’mon. Really?”
“‘Tasha, if I knew I wouldn’t be complaining about it.” Huffing, you shoot her a sort of glare.
“He’s not just worried about himself, he’s worried about you too. If he messes up, that means you're at the liberty of that mistake.”
“He shouldn’t be worried about that. He can’t be worried about that. If that’s what’s on his mind as we’re flying, it’s gonna get in his head and he will mess up.” Phoenix cinched the little drawstring bag she was bringing and nudged the small duffel that held all of your clothes. You got the message, swinging the bag over your shoulder and walking with her towards the coast, ready to board the aircraft carrier. It’s a long process, the whole boarding and leaving the port. There’s something about the sea that is just so calming though, the harsh waves that lap up against the sides of the carrier but doing very little to budge it. It’s turning dark quickly, signaling to all the aviators that it was most definitely bedtime.
You’re swinging your legs as you sit on your cot, cracking your knuckles and thinking way too much. About the mission, about the part you play in it, and about Bradley. Unlike what he had said earlier, you hadn’t seen him at all. The last thing you heard was that he was holed up in his dorm, talking to Mav about something, sleeping. It then occurred to you that he hadn’t made himself available to see you. Getting more fed up by the minute, you stand, make your way towards your door but it swings open before you get the chance to even touch the handle. Bradley’s there, in the middle of the door frame before he slams it shut. His expression is unreadable but you can tell that he’s nervous. About what? You’re unsure.
“Rooster–”
“You have to promise me you won’t do anything stupid tomorrow. I can’t, I can’t–” His hands are shaking as they cup your face. “I can’t fly without you promising me that.” You open your mouth but words don’t manage to form. His face crumbles and you see the tears in his eyes. “Y/N, sweetheart, please. Just say it.” You shake your head as you hold his hands with yours.
“Bradley, I can’t do that. This is my job and it’s yours as well. We both know that nothing’s promised in our line of work.”
“I know, and I know you’re the best damn pilot I’ve ever met but tomorrow is…”
“The mission of our lives.” You finish his sentence and move to wrap your arms around his neck, pressing your face into his shoulder. “And after we’re done,” you murmur, “we’re gonna go out on that date and you and I are going to eat pasta and drink wine and share tiramisu.”
“I don’t like tiramisu,” he jokes, making you let out a weepy laugh.
“Yeah, well,” you sniff, “you’re gonna have some anyways, right?” You feel him nodding his head against your hair. Eventually, he pulls away so you can see his face, his cheeks tearstained.
“I love you.” He whispers, brushing his lips softly up against yours. “See you in the morning.”
“Hey Bradley?” You lilt, stopping him in his tracks.
“I’ve always got your back.” Smiling, he gives you one last glance before he shuts the door on both your interaction and the evening. It was easy falling asleep after that, but morning came all too early, and with it, the mission.
All you could do was go through the motions. Take your sleep shirt and shorts off. Put on your sports bra. Step into the legs and sleeves of your flight suit. Gel your hair back into a regulation bun. Step into your shoes. Fix yourself with a neutral stare in the mirror. This was it.
Walking to the tarmac, you checked in with several people. Your admirals, instructors, the radio team. All of them gave you the clearance to situate your navy blue helmet with the white and gold feather accents onto your head, buckling it underneath your chin. Fanboy was already at your jet, checking on the fuel levels and the fitness of it.
“She’s all ready to go,” he says, giving you a confident look. You nod and keep your face measured.
“Let’s do this.” Stepping up into your jet, you spot Rooster right beside you, stepping up on a ladder and hoisting himself into his jet. You see the writing underneath the window, his Call Sign listed. You wait for him to catch your eye, and when he does, you give him a thumbs up. He throws one back to you as you fit the oxygen mask over your mouth. You do a breath test, making sure that everything is working alright before you check in with your WSO.
“Fanboy, everything in working order?” You say, hearing your voice through your radio system.
“Ready for takeoff.” He informs. You close your eyes, squeezing them shut for a couple seconds before taking a deep breath.
“Swan Song, ready for takeoff.” You say, now switching the comms to communicate with the other jets and the radio tower.
“Copy that Swan Song. All jets ready, begin launching.” The radio team says, their voice crackly.
You see Mav’s jet line up and launch, barreling off the carrier at 170 mph. Next is Phoenix and Bob. Then Rooster. And finally, you’re pushing that lever forward and you feel the rush of 8 Gs on your body as you launch. Once you’re in the air, you feel good. The formation is correct and you’re on track to reach the target within the next 10 minutes. It’s silent in the air, just the beeping of your comms. The ocean is so incredibly blue and the sky is a perfect morning with no clouds in the sky. On a morning like this, you would’ve liked to do some flight tests or even doing another round of 200 pushups for ‘dying’ by Maverick.
“Land in sight, ready for missiles.” You hear your strike team leader's voice.
“Copy that Maverick, launching high speed missiles.” The radio team communicates back. It only takes a couple of moments for the missiles to launch and speed in front of you, aiming directly for the enemy’s tarmac runway.
“Well, if they didn’t know we were coming, they do now.” You mutter, accelerating a little bit more as you see the other jets are moving a bit quicker now. Soon enough, you’re just one minute away from the valley where all of your training should, and needs to, pay off.
“Assume Dagger formation.” Mav says, pulling his F18 in front with Phoenix gliding right behind him. You hang back a bit, watching Rooster slot into place with you a few lengths behind him. “Alright timer starts… now.” And just like that, you’re off. Mav increases his speed to 9 Gs, flying through the sharp edges of the mountains. You notice Rooster speeding up as well, but not nearly enough.
“Rooster, we need to speed up.” You say, keeping your eyes on the tail of your wingman’s jet. It’s like your message falls null on his ears. “Fanboy, comms are still on?”
“That’s a positive, Swan.” he reports. Clenching your teeth, you grip the yoke harder.
“Dagger 2 you must speed up,” the radio team cuts in. Still, you hear nothing from him.
“Rooster, don’t think just do. C’mon kid,” Maverick urged.
“Rooster, we have to speed up!” You yell. With both yours and Mav’s words, it flips a switch in his brain. All of a sudden, his jet speeds in front of yours, barrelling at a much faster speed than was required. “Jesus, Rooster, not that fast!” You yelp, scrambling to increase your own speed so you could stay on formation
“Dagger 2 has re-engaged!” The radio team remarks. It takes a while to wind along the curves, already hearing that Mav had hit his target and was climbing out of the coffin now. Finally, you’re doing the sharp inverted dive over the cliffside. Your breathing gets heavy but it mellows when you finally flip towards the correct side.
“Lining up the target, Rooster” You say, angling your jet so that Fanboy could direct the kill. But, for some reason, it wasn’t working.
“I-it's not working! System’s busted, I can’t – I dunno what’s going on!” Fanboy yells, your eyes growing wide.
“Taking the shot,” you hear Bradley say.
“Wha— Rooster wait just three more seconds!” You exclaim, trying your best to keep the jet on target while Fanboy tries to work out the problem.
“Dropping the missile in 3…2…1!” You hear Rooster say, taking the shot and speeding away and up the coffin with you on his tail. The pressure on your lungs is intense as you climb. Practices prepared you for this very part, but you were still trying to hold onto your bearings to remain conscious. In the background you heard the seismic boom of the target blowing up and the “hit, hit, hit, hit!” of the radio team celebrating.
Your vision is fading quickly as you near the end of your ascent, but you’re able to level out before darkness consumes your eyesight. You breathe deeply as Fanboy shouts a celebratory “Hell yeah!” and turn to follow Rooster, who’s near Mav and Phoenix now. But just as your strike team leader had cautioned, you are in no way out of the woods yet. One by one, you hear the SAMs fire and lock onto you and your team’s jets, and of course, it all devolves into a frenzy. You’re spinning and gliding, breaking left and right in order to avoid collision. Covering for one another is the only way to survive an attack like this, so the four jets start weaving patterns to both evade missiles and shoot others down. At long last, all of the SAMs are gone, but now the true fight begins.
Enemy jets are on your tail in a matter of seconds, firing their own missiles and guns at your own aircraft, engaging in a dog fight.
“This is gonna be a bumpy ride Fanboy, you just gotta hold on!” You shout, white-knuckling the yoke and jerking it all the way to the left. It’s a miracle that you’re able to avoid the missile from the oncoming enemy and shoot it down. Breathing a sigh of relief, you try and listen in on what's happening. But that’s when your stomach drops.
“I’m outta flares!” Rooster shouts as you see his own jet try to evade an oncoming missile. But the weapon is getting close, way too close.
“No, no, no, no…” you mutter. And, in a split second, Mav puts on the brakes to let Rooster in front of him, taking the missile to his own jet.
“NO!” You hear Rooster yell, pain evident in his voice as he watches Captain Mitchell’s plane go down. “I gotta head back for him,” his voice is so hoarse now. You flew in shock, following Phoenix’s tail now with Rooster by your side.
“That’s a negative Dagger 2. All aircraft must return to the carrier.” It’s quiet, so quiet for a moment, as you fly over the snow capped mountains and hills, finding your way back to the ocean. No one talks, no one dares utter a word as you fly home without your captain. A beeping noise makes its way onto your radar, capturing your attention. Where you see three little green dots, one is breaking off of formation and heading back. With Phoenix staying on your left, that only leaves one other option.
“Rooster,” you breathe, voice wobbly, “what are you doing?”
“I’ve gotta go back,” is all he says before switching off his comms.
“ROOSTER!” You yell, tears working their way into your eyes. In a heartbeat, you would’ve gone with him. Had your fuel levels not been so low because of the extra weight your jet was carrying. Had there not been Fanboy who was in your hands whether he lives or dies. You gasp, struggling to breathe as you keep your jet en route, watching that little green dot fade and fade until finally, it's off.
You land your jet onto the carrier, and as soon as possible, launch yourself out of it to run towards the comms tower. There are barricades of people there but you push and shove enough that, eventually, you’re inside. To your shock, Hangman was there as well, yelling and shouting at the rest of the team.
“Just send me out in a damn jet!” He yells, held back by two officers.
“We can’t do that son,” the vice admiral says, causing a look of rage to consume Seresin’s face.
“You’re just gonna let them die out there?!”
“What happened?!” You interrupt the two, your voice reverberating off the walls of the room. The vice admiral says nothing, just making Hangman shake his head.
“Rooster’s signal went out. His jet got shot down.” No reaction is given from you. Your body stays completely still, your face one of indifference as every gaze in the room is turned towards you. And then, panic. Your knees buckle and fall to the ground, Hangman immediately coming to your side and helping you back up.
“Wha, what do you mean his signal’s out, it just went out?!” Murmurs echo but no one gives you a straight answer. But your mind is already made up, you just had to distract the officers long enough. “Hangman, can you…” you swallow, “can you help me back to the common rooms?” Seresin nods.
“Yeah,” he says softly, “Yeah of course.”
The two of you make it down the stairs and towards the hallway that splits off between the tarmac and the common room. You stop, causing Hangman to fumble a bit at the abrupt movement.
“Swan Song?” He queries, a confused glint in his eye.
“If you’re going, I’m going to. You’ll need a wingman up there.” Instantly, he catches on. A smug grin crosses his face.
“And here I thought you could never break the rules.” Holding up a hand, you clasp it, high fiving and holding on to it.
“No backing out. You grab your F18 and I’ll grab Coyote’s.” Jake scoffs, folding his arms.
“Like Coyote’s gonna agree to you essentially stealing his jet.”
“Coyote agrees,” you turn to find Coyote standing behind the two of you. “Just try not to scratch her up too much, ‘kay?” You give him a reassuring nod and glance back to Jake.
“Let’s do this.”
It takes a little bit of stealth skills to get onto the tarmac and steal the jets, but once you’re in, you and Hangman fire up the planes and are off, into the skies and racing towards where Rooster and Mav were, most likely, trying to find a way to get back… if they were even still alive.
That reality hits you deep in the gut as you follow Hangman. Rooster may not even be alive. The last time you would’ve heard from him was up in the skies as he turned around where you couldn’t follow.
“Alright Swan, we’re almost there– oh holy shit!” Hangman’s words get cut off as both of your jets are rocked by three enemy planes.
“Why are they here?!” You shout, maneuvering your jet out of the way as two of them engage you in a dogfight. “They should not know we’re here!” Hangman is able to twist out of the way of his pursuer, firing back with his guns and taking the plane down. There was no parachute that ballooned up, effectively informing you of that pilot’s fate. You, however, were in a less than favorable predicament.
“Swan Song, I got your left–”
“No!” You exclaim, navigating your jet and firing at your enemies. “Go to Rooster and Mav, they need you right now! I won’t be able to break away, you go!”
“Swan Song, I’m your wingman, I gotta stay–”
“This is me,” you grit out, narrowly missing an oncoming missile and firing a flare to destroy it, “relieving you of your wingman duties. Now go, or I swear to god I will kill you.” You yell. You can almost hear the inner turmoil inside of Hangman’s brain, but thankfully, he takes your orders.
“Copy Swan Song, stay safe.” You watch Hangman speed away and you smile gratefully, but pull your focus back on the enemy planes. They’re both flanking you, one on each side, trying to gun you down. Spinning and diving, you’re able to evade the gunfire and flare down the missiles. You look at your weapons count and see just one more missile.
“Shit,” you mutter, “fuck.” You breathe deeply and line up the last missile, aiming for the plane on your right side. For the entire time, it’s been the most aggressive, leaving you to believe it had the best shot. So, you navigated your jet, lined up your target, and fired. The missile lodged itself into the jet and erupted the aircraft into flames.” Smiling a wistful smile, your gaze turned back to the other jet. You saw it, lining up the missile – of which it still had several left. You were top of your class, a pilot never to be messed with. The top one percent, the best of the best. You could wrangle your way out of any situation and come back with a confident and cocky smile on your face, ready to preen in front of your squadmates.
And right now, all you could do was breathe, close your eyes, and wait for the shot to come. Targeted, aimed, fired.
Bradley’s P.O.V.
Bradley and Maverick had, somehow, managed to enter and take control of an old F-14, fueling it and leading it to the runway. The exact runway which their own high speed missiles had destroyed. Shit, he thought as his pilot started to speed up.
“Mav, this is a taxiway. Not a runway. This is a very short, taxiway Mav!” He expresses, panic and worry clearly weaving their way into his words.
“You just hang in there kid,” Maverick says, speeding up the jet.
“Holy shit,” Bradley yells, his head hitting the back of his seat and his hands moving to brace himself.
“C’mon Mav, c’mon,” Mav says as his jet is nearing the wall in front of them, trying to get up to the speed he needs in order to take air. Bradley peers over the back of the pilot’s seat to see the front view, finding the wall nearing them way more quickly than he would’ve preferred.
“Mav,” He warns.
“C’mon, c’mon!” The pilot grits out.
“Mav!”
“Here we go!” And just like that, Maverick raises the yoke, taking air.
“Holy shit,” Rooster breathes, steadying his body as they lose the wheels, courtesy of that damn wall. Thankfully, they are steady in the air, which allows him to turn his flight signal back on.
“Okay Rooster, get us in touch with the boat.”
“I’m working on it,” Bradley says as he scans the controls. “Radio’s out, no radar… everything’s dead.” He tries flicking a couple of switches but nothing comes alive. “What do I do, talk me through it.”
“First the radio,” Maverick instructs, “through the, uh, UHF II circuit breaker, try that.” Bradley sighs as he looks at the array of breakers.
“There’s 300 breakers back here, anything more specific?”
“I dunno, that was your dad’s department.”
“I’ll figure it out.” He goes down to look at a couple more breakers, then looks to the left. That’s when he sees two enemy aircrafts. “Mav, tally two, five o’clock.” Both men set their sites on the aircraft, Mav’s face clearly thinking through their options. “What do we do?”
“Okay listen,” Mav says, adjusting his flight path, “just be cool. If they knew who we were we’d be dead already.”
“Yeah? Here they come.” Both enemy jets fall into a pattern behind theirs, one pulling more ahead of the other. “What’s your plan?”
“Let’s get your mask up. Remember, we’re on the same team. Just wave and, uh, smile. Just wave and smile.” They both could clearly see the enemy pilot as he pulled his jet next to Mav and Rooster’s, the other pilot turning his head to see who was flying. Mav raised his hand and did a sequence of symbols, hoping to anything that they made some semblance of sense. The other pilot did a couple signals back.
“What’s that signal, what’s he saying?” Rooster asked, keeping his voice level.
“Yeah, no idea. I have no idea what he’s saying.” The enemy pilot then started holding up a sequence of numbers on his fingers.
“What about that one, any ideas?”
“I’ve never seen that one either.” After a few more signals that Mav gives, the enemy fades to the right, assuming an attack formation. Clearly, his hand signals didn’t meet their criteria. “Shit,” he mumbles. “His wingman is moving into weapons envelope. Alright, listen up. When I tell you, you grab those rings above your head.” Bradley looks around and up and spots them. “That’s the ejection handle.”
“Mav, can we outrun these guys?”
“Not their missiles and guns.” Captain Mitchell says, his voice taking on a sullen tone.
“Then it’s a dog fight.”
“An F14? Against 5th generation fighters?”
“It’s not the plane,” Bradley says, echoing Mav’s words from before, “it’s the pilot. You’d go after him if I wasn’t here.” Rooster’s words touch a place deep in Maverick’s heart, thinking of his late best friend’s son. The little boy who would swing his legs on top of the piano, the one who got so excited when his father and godfather got him model planes to play with. The same boy, who was now a man, acting as his WSO.
“But you are here.” Maverick states.
“Come one Mav,” Rooster implores, “don’t think. Just do.” With the words that Bradley parroted back, the pilot takes a deep breath and waits. Their jet gets jerked into motion, and just like that, they’re in a dog fight.
It’s intense as their plane enters combat with two enemies. They have to draw them into the chasm, confuse their targeting system, and try to dodge their gunfire all at the same time. Maneuvering behind the plane by pulling the same move he did to protect Rooster the first time, Maverick and Rooster find themselves behind the enemy plane, now firing at them. Thankfully, they’re able to gun him down and cause his plane to slam into the mountains.
“Yes, smash hit!” Rooster exclaims. They’re now out from being on top of terrain to now flying atop the seas. Now that he has the time, Bradley fiddles some more with the controls, one such booting up the radio. “Mav, I got the radio on!”
“Outstanding, get us in touch with the boat!”
“Copy that!” However, their excitement was short lived as the F14’s sensors blared, indicating an enemy plane.
“Oh my god,” Mav whispers, trying to turn his head to see where the enemy was.
“Where the hell is this guy?!” Rooster exclaims, doing the same. That’s when Maverick focuses up.
“He’s on our nose.”
The duo realizes they have very little options left to pursue. No more ammo, little to no flares, and no missiles. They evaded the first missile, by shooting what was left of their flares, leaving them completely and utterly vulnerable. The jet comes back around firing at Rooster and Mav with their unseemingly limited ammo, closing the window of hope both pilots previously had. They were taking hits after hits, shortening the jet’s lifespan.
“We can’t outrun this guy, we’ve gotta eject.
“What?”
“We need altitude, move the ejection handles the second I tell you.”
“Mav, wait!”
“There’s no other way!” Mav flies straight up, trying to gain as much altitude as fast as he can. Finally, they were at the correct height. “EJECT, EJECT!” Rooster moves to tug the ejection handles, but they’re stuck. “ROOSTER, PULL THE HANDLE, EJECT!” Maverick yells, panic clear in his voice.
“IT’S NOT WORKING!” With the added time of not ejecting, the enemy gains ground and is right behind them, moments away from finding its perfect trajectory.
“MAV!” Rooster exclaims, breathing getting harder now.
“I’m sorry,” Mav whispers, “I’m sorry Goose.” The enemy plane lines up and situates itself to take the shot. Bradley can’t stop his mind from spinning, latching onto any thoughts to try and keep him grounded. But in a moment like this? All he could think of was you. Your smile, your laugh. He holds onto that memory of you singing Celine Dion in his Bronco like it’s his life force, and nothing else matters, because he’s about to die. A missile is fired and all Bradley could say was your name and brace himself for the hit… but it never comes. Whipping his head around, he sees a familiar looking F18 fly through the eruption of the enemy jet.
“Good afternoon ladies and gentleman, this is your savior speaking. Please fasten your seatbelts and return your tray tables to their locked and upright positions and prepare for landing.” Rooster lets out a laugh and leans his head back in relief.
“Hey Hangman! You look good!” Rooster chirps, earning a nod from his savior.
“I am good Rooster. I’m very good.” Hangman says, ego leaking into his words. Finally, he pulls away from the duo’s jet. “I’ll see you back on deck.” The two can only sigh in relief as they manage to land their jet and celebrate with everyone. Rooster gives Phoenix a hug and shakes Hangman’s hand, all the while receiving pats on the back from the rest of his squadmates. He liked seeing them, he really did, but there was only one person he wanted to see. He looked around, trying to find any traces of you. Your helmet, your Y/H/C hair, anything. Phoenix saw his gaze and frowned, her mouth pressing into a hard line.
“Rooster,” she says, her voice less jovial than it previously was. He turned to her immediately, searching her face for any kind of emotion. His heart lurched when he saw a saddened one.
“Don’t… don’t say it.” He warns as she walks him away from the crowd. Phoenix pauses with him inside of a hallway, an intersection between the medbay and the dorms.
“She’s not dead.” Bradley shudders a deep breath and falls against the hall’s wall. His hands are shaking and he can barely even stand. “They had to launch a reconnaissance mission. She went with Hangman to rescue you and Mav and they encountered enemy aircraft.” Bradley tries to keep his breathing even but dammit, it’s hard. His legs give out and he collapses to the floor. Phoenix moves to sit beside him. “One went after Hangman, two after Swan. Hangman was able to get rid of his and Swan, she… she sent him away to get you two. To ensure your safety.” Rooster but his head between his knees and tried to focus on the present. She’s alive, he reminded himself, she’s alive, she’s alive, she’s alive. “She was able to take one of them down but she was out of weapons. The enemy fired a missile, but since she’s Swan,” Natasha said, laughing a bit, “she was able to have the missile just hit one of the wings and eject. Her signal stayed, so we were able to find her. She was floating on her back and unconscious. Broken ribs, bruised, but overall… okay.”
“Has she woken up?” Bradley asked, his voice dull and void of happiness. Phoenix breathed deeply.
“No. But the docs say that she should make a full recovery. Nothing worrying is stopping her from waking up, it’s most likely from exhaustion.” Rooster nods at Phoenix’s words and holds his head back up.
“Can I see her?” Phoenix looks at him, seeing the tears that are actively falling down his cheeks, and gives him a patient smile.
“Yeah of course.” She stands up, lending Rooster a hand. He takes it and smoothes out his flight suit, staring at the medbay door. “Oh, and Rooster?” She says, Rooster turning around to hear what she had to say. “We’ll see you at the Hard Deck tomorrow night for drinks, right? Can’t let Hangman have all the glory.” Rooster manages a sort of smile.
“Yeah.” Natasha gives him a wave before starting back down the hallway towards the crowd and Rooster turns back towards the doors. With a deep breath, he pushes the doors open. And there’s you. Lying on your back in a makeshift hospital gown. There’s bandages wrapped around your torso and an oxygen mask on your mouth helping you breathe, and on your finger, a heartbeat monitor. He walks so slowly over to you, as if you were a deer he was trying not to spook. There was a chair next to your cot which he took, holding your hand the second he could.
“I’m sorry if I made you worry,” he croaked, sniffling up as many tears as he could. “And I’m sorry you had to come after me. But I’m so glad you’re okay.” He cried, moving to press a kiss to your forehead. “Mav and I had to steal a plane,” he laughed through tears, “and I had to try and figure out all the switches. I don’t know how my dad remembered all that shit, but I understand why he enjoyed flying with Mav.”
For the entire rest of the day, Bradley sat by your side, rubbing your hand and talking to you. He would sing quietly, report findings from the mission, and even read the front page of the newspaper where both yours and his names were highlighted. Eventually, though, day turned to night and he had to leave.
“I love you, you hear me? And I’m already planning that date – two weeks from today. So, you better wake up before then, okay?” Bradley pressed one final kiss to your forehead. That’s when he felt you squeeze his fingers. His eyes locked onto his hand and then to your face. Your eyes weren’t open, but he knew you were still there. And that was enough for him.
The Hard Deck the night after the mission was packed as everyone unloaded from the carrier and headed straight towards the drinks. Rooster was in high spirits. He had completed the mission, was now highly honored, and most of all, the love of his life was on the mend and recovering.
Sitting on the piano bench, Bradley played song after song, taking any and all requests from his friends. It finally got to a point where the evening was winding down, but everyone was reluctant to go home, leaving Penny exasperated.
“Alright Rooster, you got one more song in your repertoire?” She shouted, getting a nod from the man.
“Always, Penny!”
“Then serenade you and your company out, will you? Bar closes in three.” Bradley laughed and nodded, immediately going to his failsafe. The first few notes of Great Balls of Fire began, the crowd hooting and hollering.
You took measured steps off of Mav’s motorcycle, throwing him a grateful grin.
“Thanks Mav, I know it’s pretty late, but I wanted to see everyone as soon as possible.” The older man nods and smiles, giving you a light pat on the shoulder.
“I did have to pull a few strings to allow you to leave 10 minutes after you woke up,” You rolled your eyes and smiled, “but of course I’d get you here.” You wave goodbye and start to step up the stairs until you hear Bradley’s singing. You grin and can’t help the tears welling.
“Thank you, Captain Mitchell. For everything.” You say breathlessly.
“See you at base, Swan Song.” As Mav motors away, you push open the doors to see Bradley at the piano, everyone around him singing. It was like the scene you were dragged to at the very beginning of the month, where Rooster snapped and threw nasty words in your face. This time, though, you were sure he would have a different reaction.
Bradley played the final notes of the song, slamming the chords and chirping out one last “Goodness, gracious, great balls of fire!” Cheers were heard around the bar as well as clapping, but that all died down rather quickly. Seeing your opening, you took a deep breath.
“Hey Rooster, you big stud!” You yelled, leaning in the doorway with your arms crossed. You watch as he stands up instantly, knocking the piano bench back as he looks around wildly for where you were. Finally, he meets your gaze and his entire face softens, but sports a giddy smile.
“That’s me, honey!” You blush but maintain your confident smile.
“Take me to bed or lose me forever!” Quickly, Rooster walks towards you, stopping just a few paces from the door.
“Show me the way home, honey!” Cheers and whoops are heard across the room as he takes your face in his hands and kisses you hard. You laugh and smile into the kiss, deepening it and kicking your legs up as he holds your waist, careful not to hurt your ribs.
It’s everything you’ve ever wanted. Your friends surround you, laughing and cheering as they celebrate the success of the mission you were a part of. You were in Bradley’s arms, him kissing you with all the love he could hold in his heart. Your future is in front of you, so very tangible.
He sets you down and presses one more kiss to your lips.
“Birds of a feather, Swan Song?” He poses, making you simper and smack another kiss to his lips.
“Always, Rooster. Always and forever.”
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take my breath away
bradley "rooster" bradshaw x f!reader
a/n: reposted because this literally disappeared and didn’t turn up in the tags and idk what the fuck happened lmao. so here we are again.
summary: “Be rough, Bradley. I want you to… I want you to use me.”
word count: just under 2.2k
warnings: SMUT 18+ ONLY oral sex (m receiving), rough oral sex, deep throating, crying/dacryphilia, choking, gagging, praise, cum eating, brief mention of masturbation (f), i want him to call me honey god damn it
“And just what are you up to, honey?”
An indulgent smile curls your lips as you gaze up at Bradley who lounges comfortably into the couch, the smooth hardwood flooring only slightly uncomfortable as you press your knees into it and sit back on your heels.
He grins in curiosity, his head tilting as he watches you settle yourself in front of him and spreading his legs automatically as you start to shift closer.
“Oh, me?” You coo innocently, dancing your fingers along the skin of his thighs and feeling the jump of muscle beneath your touch, “Nothin’ at all, baby.”
“Mhm,” he huffs softly in amusement as your fingers move to the drawstring of his shorts, his tongue slipping along his bottom lip as you softly tug it loose. “You know if you wanted some attention, honey, all you had to do was ask.”
He goes to lean forward, intent on claiming your mouth and putting your head in a spin before whisking you away to your shared bedroom, or hell, the couch would do just fine, too—but a firm hand splaying on his chest stops his advance, and he pouts before letting himself fall back into the cushions.
“You just got home—this is all for you, baby.”
His shorts part under your deft fingers and you’re soon pulling his hardening cock free, feeling it swell and stiffen between your fingers as you lick a teasing stripe along his skin from balls to tip. He twitches from the sudden touch of your tongue, grumbling softly at your quiet giggle.
“‘s not funny.”
He’s fighting a grin when your eyes slowly roll up his body to find his. Your tongue darts out and circles the head of his cock, his legs jolting with another jerk of surprise and your smile widens.
“I find it funny. So sensitive—” you tease quietly, before taking him fully into the wet heat of your mouth. You lather the tip of his cock with attention, tongue circling around the smooth head of it as your lips apply a bit of pressure before slowly lowering inch by inch.
Work into it, you remind yourself, not wanting to push yourself too hard too fast.
Your hand grasps the base of him, keeping his cock steady as you start to work it, keeping your pace measured and giving yourself a chance to adjust to the movements.
When you feel ready, you push down further, breaking past the point of resistance until he just starts to fill your throat before pulling back. You repeat it again, and again, each time pushing yourself further than you did previously until the full length of him throbs in your throat.
Your throat fights the intrusion, your muscles automatically contracting and tightening around him, and he can’t help the little twitch of his hips at the feel of it. His movement throws off your concentration and you pull away, sucking in a breath and swallowing the rush of saliva from your small gag.
“Holy sh—‘m sorry, honey,” he breathes, his fingers curling into the fabric of the couch in an effort to stay still.
You ignore his apology and lean back in, swirling your tongue around the reddened tip of his cock and taking him back into your mouth, sucking softly at the smooth skin and relishing at the comforting hand that comes to rest on the back of your head before starting to move lower and lower down his length with a steady bob of your head.
The head of his cock eventually hits that back of your mouth and you will yourself to relax, inhaling deeply before fighting the resistance and pushing further, pressing more and more until tears build along your lash line at the thick feel of him filling your throat.
“Jesus, fu—uck—”
It’s the tempting curl of a smile that has you pulling back enough to inhale before your gag reflex is triggered again—you love it when that whine starts to build in his voice.
You alternate between bobbing your head and swirling your tongue around him, focusing on the sensitive skin of his frenulum and sucking softly at his tip before taking him deeper, the resistance slowly loosening with each forceful shove of his cock down your throat.
“You’re doing so well, honey. Can you look at me? Can I—oh shit—”
He’s sure the sight of it almost kills him.
Your eyes roll up to meet his, your lashes fluttering leisurely and causing a stray tear to fall from the corner of your eye while your lips stretch wide around the thickness of him.
He’s powerless as your gaze stays locked with his, unwavering as you take him deeper and deeper, the tight feel of your throat wrapped around his cock stirring the heat building at the bottom of his spine.
You release him and suck in a breath, warming at the loving shine in his eyes as he gazes down at you, despite the trail of saliva that slides down your chin.
“Can you do something for me?” You murmur, wrapping your fingers around his slick length and pumping your hand to keep him stimulated, your pussy clenching as his eyes roll a little from the wet jerks.
His hips twitch at your steady touch and he nods, his brows furrowing from the blissfully tight feel of your fingers. “Anything—what do you want? Tell me.”
“I want you to not hold back.”
Confusion leaks into his expression.
“Be rough, Bradley. I want you to…” you trail off, squirming on your heels as heat swims in your core, the rough friction of your underwear rubbing against your cunt weakening as your arousal soaks the fabric. “I want you to use me.”
He openly falters at your words, his frown deepening as his hand comes to rest on your wrist to cease your movements. He’s taking your request incredibly seriously, and your pure adoration for him swells within the confines of your chest.
“What if I hurt you, honey? I don’t want—”
“You won’t,” you cut in soothingly, smile soft and reassuring. “I trust you, baby.”
He swallows, his tongue slipping back along his lower lip in thought. After a moment, his eyes dart back to meet yours, a significantly darker shade growing in the shadows of them that has a thrill running along your nerves.
“Is this what you really want? You’re sure?”
Excitement curdles in your gut and you nod eagerly, your heart picking up in your chest. It’s something you’ve thought about for a while, a secret little fantasy built from the many times his hand would curl just that little bit harder around your head whenever you went down on him.
You knew there was something there, something your sweet as sugar husband was holding back, and you’d often send yourself over the edge during the lonely nights without him picturing it, your fingers wild over your clit as you imagine the feel of him forcing you to swallow all of him again and again.
“How are you gonna tell me to stop?”
His expression turns almost disapproving when you remain quiet, your late night fantasies not quite preparing you for that question. How would you tell him to stop if it became too much?
“Come on, sweetheart. We’re not doing this until we’ve got a system in place. Now answer me—how are you gonna tell me to stop?”
“I’ll tap your leg,” you speak after a few seconds of deliberation, your eyes falling to where his hand covers your own, his cock still solid and throbbing in your grasp. “One tap to slow down, two taps to stop.”
He nods in approval, squeezing your hand and running his thumb along your skin as you start to languidly drag your fingers up and down his length. “One to slow, two to stop. Understood.”
“You’re not at work, Bradley,” you scold lightly, lips twitching at his throaty chuckle.
“You’re sure as hell a bit of wor—hey!”
He flinches away from your teeth as they nip playfully at the warm skin of his thigh, before his breath catches in his throat when your mouth moves from the inside of his leg to the tip of his cock, your tongue wide and smooth over the head and licking away the precum beading there from the anticipation.
“You’re so pretty, honey,” he breathes, his broad frame melting back into the comfort of the cushions as his eyes follow the way your lips spread and drag against his skin. His hips roll up when your tongue massages his frenulum, pushing his cock deeper into your mouth and pulling a little whine from your throat.
He tests it again, his large hand coming to rest once more on the back of your head, only this time he puts a little bit of force behind it as well as thrusting upwards, forcing his length just a little past your previous limits. Your answering moan melts against him and his lips briefly twitch into a smirk.
Shit—you do like that.
“Remember to tap if you need to,” he demands softly, heart thudding wildly his chest as your eyes flicker up to meet his, swimming with the mixture of appreciation and desire. They flutter closed as soon as he thrusts up again, his fingers pressing harder into your scalp to push your head down onto his cock.
You can’t help but gag after the first few times, your eyes stinging and filling with tears as he pushes you through it. You inhale when he lets you up enough to drag in oxygen through your nose before he’s pushing you forward again, stretching your mouth wider around him and forcing you to get used to the feel of his cock filling your throat.
His pace increases and you’re left to take it, your nails digging half crescent moons into his skin as you do nothing but hold on. The thick feel of him moving in and out of your mouth, pushing further into your throat and back again, has the tears pooling along your lash line soon spilling down your cheeks, a sight he seems to appreciate with a jerk of his frame.
“God damn. You’re doing so damn well, honey. Fuck! Look at me now, that’s it. You’re so good, so damn good—"
The thumb on his free hand brushes over the corner of your lips where they stretch around his cock, briefly dropping to gather the line of saliva dripping down your chin and smearing it messily over your cheek, his fingers soon curling just along your jawline and under your ear to aid his other hand in keeping your head positioned how he wanted it.
Your body responds to the strength of him, your eyes fluttering and loosening to let him take full control. You’re tempted to shove a hand down your shorts to calm the borderline painful ache built in your clit, but your hands are incapable of leaving his legs, afraid if you let go for even a second you’d break the solid pace he’d set.
“Shit. Shit—I—”
Your eyes fly open at his mumbling, desperate to watch his face crumble as he reaches his end. His brows are furrowed, eyes still focused on the way his cock moves in and out of your mouth and how it glistens with your saliva.
Just a little more. Just a little—
You feel the swell of his cock and you brace yourself, your throat soon flooding with warm salty cum as he splutters out a curse above you. It’s too much, despite you trying your best to swallow it all down and some fills your mouth and overflows from the seal of your lips, sliding down your chin and only adding to the beautifully obscene picture of you now seared into his mind.
His hands lose their strength as soon as his cock starts to soften, instead coming to rest softly cupping your cheeks as you release him with a soft pop.
You’re panting, chest heaving softly with each inhale, and he swipes a rough thumb through the mess on your chin, slipping his cum into your mouth and watching as your lips wrap around it with an almost drunk look hanging over his features.
“You’re gonna be the god damn end of me,” he mutters, pulling his thumb from your mouth and moving it up to press against the joint of your jaw, his other thumb mirroring it on the other side.
He pushes softly, thumbs pressing firm circles into your flesh and massaging the now aching muscles there. It’s delightful. Your first deep throating journey had been more strenuous than you were expecting and now your jaw was paying the price.
You hum softly, smiling in appreciation and smoothing your hands up along his forearms to hold his wrists as he works, feeling the warmth of his skin melt into your palms.
“You know what this means, right?” He asks after a few moments of tender face massage.
Your eyes flutter open in curiosity, “Hm?”
“When you’re ready, it’s my turn.”
-
tags: @kindablackenedsuperhero, @rosiahills22, @a-reader-and-a-writer, @labellapeaky, @nanjalee, @hawsx3, @nonsensical-nonce, @cowboylikecassidy, @spacegirly1, @tolietpaper, @themusicalweirdo, @miles-rooster, @lilfoxyqueensworld
#rooster x reader#bradley bradshaw x reader#rooster x f!reader#bradley bradshaw x f!reader#rooster x you#bradley bradshaw x you#rooster fic#top gun fanfiction#rooster imagine#bradley bradshaw imagine
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