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topgun-imagines · 8 months

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Say My Name

Requested: no

Summary: You find out just how big Bradley is. He really does live up to his call sign.

Word count: 3.4k

Note: banner by @lewmagoo

Warnings: smut, oral sex (f!recieving), fingering, anal fingering, size kink, overstimulation, unprotected sex, cum play. Please let me know if I missed anything!

Pairings: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x fem!reader

The air in the bedroom was filled with tension. You were on your third glass of wine and Bradley had just begun pouring his second. Nerves surged through you. Tonight, you were planning on having your first time with Bradley. While the two of you had been dating for nearly seven months, you had yet to sleep together. The thought had you nervously fiddling with the hem of your short skirt.

Bradley had made the two of you a nice dinner before leading you to his bedroom. Despite how much you wanted this, you couldn’t settle the butterflies in your stomach. Sure, you had slept with others before Bradley. However, given the things that you had heard about him from his fellow pilots, you felt more nervous than usual as you stared at the gold chain he was wearing. You had done some sexual stuff with the pilot before, but you had yet to see what he was packing. Honestly, that was what had you the most nervous.

No matter how hard you tried to ignore the teasing from the rest of his squadron about his size, you simply couldn’t. Not when Jake kept making crude remarks about his callsign having some sort of double meaning and teasing you about what he saw in the locker rooms. You could never get away from it. Now, you couldn’t help but find yourself staring at the bulge straining in his jeans.

His deep chuckle was what broke you out of your trance. “See something you like, Princess?” There was a teasing lilt to his voice. You blushed deeply, sipping the last drop of wine from your glass. “C’mere.” He rasped. Instantly, you obeyed, crawling into his lap and straddling his thick thighs. His glass was set on the nightstand before his hands came to sit on the tops of your thighs.

The tickle of his mustache as he peppered kisses across your neck had you squirming in his lap. You clenched around nothing at the guttural groan he let out. From where you were sitting right now, you could tell he was big. Moaning quietly, you nearly melted when Bradley gripped your hips and pulled you down closer to his growing bulge.

“Bradley,” You moaned out with barely concealed need. Another grunt was released into your neck. “Fuck,” Panting with your head tossed back, the feeling of Bradley’s lips travelling down your chest had you shivering. “I need you. Please.” It was the neediest sound you had ever made in your life.

Time seemed to stand still as Bradley lifted you off his lap. You whined at the loss of warmth before laid you down on the bed and crawled on top of you. Cooing quietly at your pitiful whine, the pilot smirked at your frantic state. As Bradley continued to kiss down your neck, your chest was rising and falling quickly. “I’m gonna make you feel real good, baby girl.” His words were a promise; one that you knew he would make good on.

Your blouse was slowly unbuttoned as Bradley peppered kisses across your soft skin. When he finally reached the last button, you were out of breath, panting loudly. Now, you were left in nothing but your lacy bra and short skirt. Unbeknownst to Bradley, you had nothing on under that skirt. Feeling Braldey’s mustache tickling the sensitive skin of your stomach had you wanting to giggle. But the pleasurable warmth in your core had you moaning out instead.

Next, Bradley began massaging your thighs, shimmying further down the bed until he was level with your thighs. You breathed in deeply, nerves rearing their ugly head again. Ever so slowly, Bradley reached under you and pulled the zipper of your short skirt down. It took every fibre of your being to focus your breathing. Bradley had eaten you out before, but knowing what would be coming after had you shaking.

Your legs parted enough so that Bradley could slot in between them, knees bending and feet planted firmly on the cool sheets. Before you even realized what was happening, Bradley had your legs tossed over your shoulder and he was softly nipping the sensitive insides of your thighs. When Bradley lifted his head, he was met with the sight of your bare, puffy cunt. He groaned loudly, his cock managing to harden even more in his tight jeans.

Seconds later you were met with the feeling of Bradley’s tongue running over your slit delicately. Instantly, a sharp cry escaped you. Tangling your fingers in your boyfriend's curly hair, you tugged when his lips sealed around your clit. The feeling had you arching off the bed, your heels digging into the pilot’s back.

For the next few minutes, the only sounds that could be heard in the room were your loud, wanton moans and the lewd sounds coming from between your legs. Bradley’s tongue was now prodding against your entrance, teasing you relentlessly. You found it hard to breathe as cry after cry escaped you. Slowly, your high began building. When two of your boyfriend’s thick fingers pushed meticulously inside your weeping cunt, your back arched so hard off the bed, Bradley had to pause to make sure you were okay.

The grin on his face when he heard your needy whines was nothing short of devious. Without hesitation, he returned to sucking on your clit and working his fingers in and out of your slick entrance quickly. “Oh!” You cried out from the delicious

Bradley was relentless. His thick fingers stretched you open deliciously, making a scissoring motion as he licked around your greedy hole. Your moans slowly grew higher and higher in pitch. Outside of your field of vision, Bradley brought his other hand up and between your legs. The sudden press of his thumb against your tight, puckered hole had you nearly screaming. “Oh, my god.” The words were slurred together. That familiar coil in the pit of your stomach was almost ready to snap.

The tip of his thumb suddenly slipped into your tight hole, creating a delicious pressure. More slick leaked from your slit. As Bradley’s fingers kept up their pace inside of your puffy cunt, the squelching sound got louder the wetter you got. There wasn��t a single coherent thought in your mind as Bradley’s thumb pushed further into your ass, his fingers stretched apart even further and his lips sealed around your clit. All at once, he sucked on your clit harshly, pressed his fingers into your sweet spot, and pressed his thumb in as far as possible.

You were so close. In a few seconds, you would be gushing around his fingers. “Bradley,” You panted, fingers gripping his brown locks like a lifeline. “Stop.” He froze instantly, eyes snapping up to meet yours. His fingers slowed until they stopped and his thumb moved to draw back. But when you whined at the sensation in your puckered hole, he stopped his movements altogether.

“Honey?” He started, rubbing your thigh softly and smearing your slick on your smooth skin in the process. “What’s wrong.?” It was whispered into the soft skin of your stomach The tickle of his mustache against your stomach had you giggling. Even though your core was clenching around nothing and you could still feel his finger moving slowly inside your ass. Regardless of the worry bubbling in his chest, Bradley smiled at the sound of your laughter.

You offered him a blissed-out smile, moaning softly at the movements of his thumb. “Nothin’,” At those words, Bradley slipped his fingers back inside of your dripping cunt. You were so wet that there was zero friction as he pushed them in until the second knuckle. You were instantly whiny again. “Wait,” You tried again. This time, Bradley only slowed his ministrations. “I wanna come on your cock.” The widest grin you had ever seen broke out on your boyfriend's face.

Teasingly, he leaned down and allowed his tongue to flick over your clit. A chuckle escaped him. You had no idea what you were in for. “Honey,” There was a teasing lilt to his voice. “You’re gonna need at least two before I even think about letting you cum on my cock.” His words caused you to let out a shuddering breath. Sure, you knew that he was big. After all, you couldn’t go anywhere without someone reminding you of that fact. But his words caused you to wonder just how big he was.

Before you could snark back, his thumb pushed in as far as it could and his lips sealed around your clit. Crying out again, your heels dug further into Bradley’s back and you pulled so hard on his curly locks you thought that some of the hair would come out. Instead, he groaned and began slurping harder. Within seconds, you were gushing around his fingers, cuming so hard you could have sworn you saw stars.

As you were coming down, Bradley drew his thumb from your ass and pulled his sticky fingers from your core. Your cum slowly dripped down your opening. Once you were coherent again, your eyes slowly looked down at Bradley. He was transfixed on the sight between your thighs. The tip of his index finger slowly began to swirl through the creamy mess between your thighs. It dipped shallowly into your opening and scooped out some more of your cum.

The overstimulation was almost becoming too much for you. Now, Bradley’s finger was swirling your cum around your sensitive clit. Your whines were breathly, so much so that Bradley could hardly hear them. Nevertheless, he continued, drawing moan after moan from your parted and chapped lips.

Within minutes, you were right on the brink again. Feeling that delicious pressure building faster than ever, you shifted your hips until Bradley’s face was, quite literally, buried in your slick cunt. As you tipped over the edge for the second time in a matter of minutes, Bradley stared at your expression in awe.

Your legs were shaking. So much so that Bradley was almost convinced he went too far. But when your eyes fluttered open, Bradley could see the pure pleasure swimming in your eyes. “How was that, Honey?” There was a low timbre to his voice as the coarse hairs of his mustache rubbed against your smooth thighs. Your breathing was heavy and your fingers couldn’t stop twitching, but you had never felt better. So that was exactly what you told him.

“That was amazing,” You sat up, half expecting Bradley to push you back down and pull another orgasm from you. Crawling up your body, one of your boyfriend’s large hands rubbed at your side before grabbing your tit. A soft moan escaped you before you grinned up at the pilot. “But, I think you know that I want something else.” Your words were punctuated with a soft squeeze of his rock-hard cock.

The groan that he released was nearly primal. With one last passionate kiss pressed to your lips, he slowly, almost teasingly, unbuttoned his jeans. Then, he peeled his black boxers off his toned and muscular thighs. Your eyes were fixed between his legs, not blinking as you came face to face with his sheer size. “B-Bradley,” You stuttered, beginning to shake slightly. Snapping your eyes up to meet his, your boyfriend had a smug grin on his face. “There’s no way that that’s going to fit.”

The chuckle that escaped him was nearly mocking. “Yes, it will.” Those were the last words he spoke before he was leaning over you again. His hard cock rubbed into your thigh while he was sucking dark marks that contrasted against your unblemished skin into the side of your neck.

After a few minutes of nothing more than kissing softly, Bradley finally pulled back. His hands were warm as they rubbed softly over your sides, an attempt to soothe you that didn't go unnoticed. “Are you ready, baby?” Regardless of the fact that you couldn’t tame the nerves fluttering in your stomach, you nodded. With a smile, he kissed your forehead. Against your skin, he whispered that he was going to get a condom and the lube.

You stopped him. For the first time tonight, you felt one hundred percent prepared for what was about to happen. “No,” Bradley looked at you confused, wondering why you had changed your mind. Kneeling next to him, you placed one hand on his bare chest, stroking the tanned skin softly. Seductively, you whispered in his ear. “No condom. I wanna feel you.” You were on the pill, and you knew that both Bradley and yourself were clean.

His breathing seemed to stop and then there was a wide smile on his face. You squealed when he kissed you passionately, laying you down on the bed and leaving you breathless as he disappeared in search of lube. The sight of his bare backside walking away had you giggling dreamily. When he returned from the bathroom, you were met with the sight of his shockingly large cock between his legs. At that sight, you didn’t laugh as much.

For the next few seconds, you and Bradley were quiet. Soft touches were shared between the two of you before your boyfriend pulled back once more. His fingers dipped between your legs, checking to see just how wet you were. A soft moan escaped you as he swirled your slick around your clit. The next thing you knew, you could hear the cap of the lube snapping open. Suddenly, you felt the cold drop running down your slit. A hiss escaped you before Bradley slipped his fingers into you once more.

The next few minutes were spent with Bradley opening you up even further than you already were. You could feel that familiar pressure building once more. But, instead of Bradley leading you over that delicious edge, he stopped right as you were about to tip over. You groaned.

With a chuckle, Bradley slowly crawled up your body. “You ready, baby?” You could only nod, wanting nothing more than for Bradley to be seated inside of you. As he poured some more lube onto his hand, you got a sinister idea. The thought had you smirking. However, you were stopped in your tracks as you watched Bradley wrap his hand around his thick cock. His fingers couldn’t even touch.

For the first time tonight, you found yourself focusing on his cock. It was long, longer than you had seen before and curved toward the end. His tip was an angry red colour and as he stroked himself, you could see the pre-cum leaking down his shaft. Your eyes traced the vein that ran up the bottom before your eyes snapped up to your boyfriend’s. He had caught you red-handed.

Now, you decided to act on your plan. Before Bradley could realize what was happening, you had flipped him over and were straddling his thick thighs. He looked up at you in shock. With one hand, you gripped his cock and with the other you stabilized yourself against his chest. Biting your lip, your eyes locked with his as you began to stroke him. After a few seconds of building up your courage, you slowly sank down on him. Your warm and slick cunt sunk down onto his fat, mushroom tip with hardly any resistance.

Within the first few seconds, you were a moaning mess. There was less than two inches inside of you and you were already losing your mind. You couldn’t even begin to fathom taking the rest of him. Bradley could sense that you were struggling, so, your boyfriend’s hands gripped your hips. Slowly, he helped you sink down onto him. The breath rushed from your lungs in a matter of seconds. Now, you were just over halfway down Bradley’s cock and you felt like you were being split in half.

“That’s it, Princess,” He encouraged you as your greedy cunt swallowed another inch of him. “Doing so good.” With careful movements, he pulled you down until your head was resting on his chest, the steady sound of his heartbeat under your ear. Ever so slowly, Bradley pulled down your hips until they were flush with his. The second he was fully seated inside of you, you let out the most pornographic moan Bradley had ever heard.

One of his hands grabbed your ass and the other cradled the back of your head. The next few minutes were spent with Bradley simply letting you adjust to his size. His sheer girth had you whining quietly against his skin, sticky with sweat. After about four minutes, Bradley planted his feet and shifted slightly. That caused the tip of his cock to press right against your sweet spot. Once again, you couldn’t help but moan loudly.

Ever so slowly, your boyfriend began rocking into you. With each thrust, Bradley would only pull himself out a little bit, leaving the rest of his pulsing cock stuffed inside of you. Then he would push back in, filling you to the brim once more. The feeling of his mushroom tip hitting your spot over and over again had you seeing stars. “Say my name.” It was more of a command than a request.

“Fuck, Bradley!” You cried out, hips beginning to raise and fall of their own accord. He grunted hips smacking into yours as he fucked you.

You grunted, feet planted firmly against the bed as he pistoned his weeping cock into you. “No,” He taunted, slowing his thrusts until he was hardly moving. “Not that one.” The realization of what he wanted you to do was almost enough to make you cum.

“Oh my god,” You rushed out, fist forming as you curled into his chest further. “Rooster!” It was almost a scream. The way the words rushed out of you so fast, Bradley was almost concerned. Almost. “Rooster, please. Please fuck me.” At that, Bradley moaned. He had never heard such a sweet sound as you begging for him to fuck you. It was music to his ears.

Loud moans and grunts filled the room as Bradley began to thrust harder and deeper. Now you were clinging to him, puffy cunt stretched out more than you ever would have thought possible. Your boyfriend gripped your hips harshly, raising you up on his thick cock before slamming you down onto him. That sent a sharp cry out of you, your face turning until it was buried against his chest.

Suddenly, your whole body tensed. Bradley, once again, had slipped his thumb into your tight ring of muscle. The moan that you let out was nearly a scream. Feeling his thick cock in your dripping core and his thumb pushing into your ass sent you reeling. “Imagine what my cock would feel like in this tight, little ass of yours.” He punctuated his words with a hard thrust. His thumb slipped out of your ass seconds later. The fucked-out look on your face wasn’t going away anytime soon.

This pattern continued for the next few minutes until Bradley's thrusts began growing erratic. You were so, so close. All you needed was a little bit more and you would be falling into blissful pleasure. Bradley gave you that little bit more in mere seconds.

His thumb pressed hard against your clit, rubbing the small pearl in circular motions. You found yourself clenching around him with your eyes rolling back. There was an obscene amount of your sweet release leaking out around your boyfriend’s thick cock. He held you carefully as you slowly came down from your high.

Before you had time to recover, however, your boyfriend was pumping his cum into you, thick, white ropes painting your walls. You shuddered at the foreign feeling. Regardless of the other guys you had been with before, you had never let any of them do what you and Bradley just did. His cock was still throbbing inside you. The feeling almost had you cumming again.

Ever so slowly, Bradley lifted you off his softening cock. It had you whining and whimpering. You clenched around nothing, his cum starting to leak out of you. It dripped onto his lap as he pulled your hips up. You were breathless as he set your hips down on his thigh, your cunt clenching desperately at the pressure suddenly placed on your clit. His arms wound around your stomach, holding you tightly against his sweaty chest.

In less than five minutes, you were drifting off against his chest, feeling his warm cum still dripping out of your puffy and abused cunt. Needless to say, the next day, you were walking with a limp.

a/n: Thank you for reading! Requests are open :)

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beyondthesefourwalls · 5 months

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The Over/Under

Summary: Your friends insisted that the best way to get over someone was by getting under someone else. But you had been over your ex for a long time before you ever signed the papers, and you had no intention on hooking up with anyone. Then an attractive man with a mustache that really shouldn't look as good as it does catches your eye, and you suddenly forgot why you were hesitant in the first place.

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 6.2K

Warnings: Language, smut, talks of divorce

Notes: Written as a fun little surprise for my best gal @roosterforme for her birthday today, because what better gift is there than porn shared amongst friends, am I right?

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“What about him?”

“No way. I can practically feel that guy’s ego from here.”

“Him?”

“He looks like he’s barely old enough to be here.”

“Okay, what about him?”

“Hmmmm. Oooh. He’s cute. Hey, I think we found your guy!”

The words were followed by an excited jab to your side, and you hissed out an “ow” as you swatted the hand that had done so. Your best friend wasn’t phased in the slightest as she grinned at you, her eyes already a little glazed from the tequila shot you had taken upon getting to the bar - the very patriotic, very uniform filled bar, that was not your normal stomping grounds by any means.

Not for the first time since arriving a little less than thirty minutes ago, you huffed out a breath of disbelief. “Isn’t tonight supposed to be about celebrating being single again? Why are you trying to scope out guys for me?”

“Because what better way to get over someone than by getting under someone else?”

You couldn’t help but snort into your drink as you took a long sip. Truthfully, you had been over your ex-husband for a long time now. The divorce was nothing more than a logistical means to an end, which the bastard had dragged out for far longer than it needed to be. You had felt single for damn near years at this point, but as of earlier this week, you were legally so, as well. Finally.

“And what if I want to be on top?” you dared to ask, raising a challenging eyebrow. “What then?”

Your friends all burst into laughter, talking over one another as they weighed the merits of your question, unsurprisingly veering off into debates about the best positions for maximum pleasure. You rolled your eyes fondly, but tuned them out as you let your eyes scan the crowd. It was apparently their mission tonight to get you laid, which you honestly should have caught on to as soon as they had thrown a brand new lingerie set at you earlier that night. It was strappy and lacy in all the right ways and you hadn’t hesitated to put it on under your tiny black dress because it had made you feel good. Sexy, even. You deserved to feel that way just for you, so you had thought nothing of it. Now, though, their insistence made sense.

Pure curiosity had you looking in the direction of the man they had been trying to point out. He had that classic All-American look to him, all blonde hair and dimples, and you could see his shiny white teeth from across the bar as he laughed with his friends. He was cute, you supposed, and everything that your type used to be. But now he reminded you a little too much of your newly-made ex-husband, and you felt nothing as you looked at him. You let out an internal sigh as your eyes shifted to the left.

You paused, your head cocking to the side as you took in the man sitting beside him. Now he…oh, now he was something. He was very something. He was handsome in a way that was different from your usual type. He had dark, tousled hair that curled on his head, and a mustache that you’d normally find hideous but that only served to enhance his very attractive look. His features were sharp, with a strong jawline and eyes that you couldn’t quite make out the color of from this far away. He was dressed casually in jeans and a ridiculous looking Hawaiian shirt over a plain tee. Just like the facial hair, it was a combo that you were sure would look ridiculous on anyone else - like the pretty boy sitting beside him - but that he was somehow pulling off. Something about him seemed to exude confidence without being cocky, and it was intriguing.

You took another sip of your drink, feeling your heartbeat a little faster with strange anticipation. In principle, you had been single for a long time now. You weren’t planning anything tonight, but you also hadn’t felt that familiar tingle in your tummy since before you got married.

Your thoughts were interrupted as your friend jabbed you in the side again. "Cute, right?” she asked eagerly.

You shook your head, your gaze still fixed on the handsome stranger. "No, not him," you said, your voice low. "The one next to him.”

Your friends followed your gaze. "Oh, damn," one of them breathed out, her eyes widening with interest. "He's hot."

You didn’t pay attention to whatever your friends were talking about as you stared, swirling the remaining liquid around in your glass. He was broad, and even seated, you could tell he was tall. He was thick in all the best ways, and you wanted to know what he looked like up close. Almost like he could feel you watching him, he cut his eyes in your direction. They connected with yours, and instead of shying away, a flash of boldness had you raising your glass to your mouth to take a small sip. You swiped your tongue over the moisture left coating your bottom lip, eyes never leaving his. A slow grin spread on his face and a thick eyebrow raised before he turned back to his friends. You smiled to yourself. It was a rare moment of feeling powerful and in control, and you relished it.

He was looking back at you now, and you felt a flutter in your stomach at the intensity of his gaze. You shifted in your seat, feeling a sudden urge to be closer. It was an unfamiliar feeling, and you didn’t quite know what to do with it. It had been so long since you had tried to pick up a guy, and you weren't sure you remembered how

A moment passed and he looked away again. Feeling emboldened, you downed the rest of your drink and pushed out of your seat. “I’m going to get another,” you announced before you could talk yourself out of it. It was a bad cover and you knew it, and by the way your friends cheered and started egging you on, they did too.

You took a deep breath as you tried to quell the flutter in your stomach. You made it a point to not look at him as you approached the bar. You leaned against the counter, ordering a tequila shot and splurging for the top shelf when the kind, pretty bartender asked for your order. You weren't sure if the drink would help settle your nerves or make them worse, but you needed something to distract you from the intense gaze you swore was burning into your back.

She slid the shot across to you with a grin, nodding when you asked her to put it on your tab before quickly moving on to other waiting customers. That tingling sensation of being watched came back stronger, and you had to remind yourself to breathe when a warm presence leant against the bar at your side, facing you. You turned your head, and oh, wow. He had a smile on his lips that made your knees weak, and from up close, you could see faint scars that had faded with time. He had eyes the color of dark honey that sucked you in, and even that ridiculous mustache looked soft. Your whole body tingled at the proximity.

“Hi,” you said, and you were surprised at how breathy you sounded. His smile widened as he looked you up and down.

“Hi.” His voice was deep and husky and you fought the urge to groan at how delicious it sounded. "Can I buy you a drink?" he asked.

You grinned, feeling a little giddy. "I just ordered one," you said, holding up the full shot glass. You felt embarrassment heat your face when a little bit of the clear liquid sloshed onto your fingertips, but you forced yourself not to break eye contact.

He chuckled, cheeks tinting red, and leant in a little closer. "Then let me join you for one.”

You pretended to think it over, humming in fake consideration. When you finally nodded, that charming smile of his turned just a touch toward a smirk. He called the bartender by name when she passed, asking for a shot of whatever you were having. The woman, Penny, huffed out a laugh that sounded amused but not judgemental as she efficiently poured it and slid it over. When she walked away, he raised it to yours.

“Cheers,” he murmured, voice low. You shivered in delight.

“Cheers.” You downed your shot, and he followed suit. The liquor burned its way down your throat, but you didn’t care. All you cared about was the way he was looking at you.

“What’s your name?” he asked. He sat himself down in the barstool you had been standing beside, and you couldn’t help but glance down at his legs, spread in a way that you would be standing between them if you shuffled just the slightest bit to the right. His denim clad thighs were thick and looked so inviting. When you met his eyes again, they sparkled like he knew what you had been thinking.

“What’s yours?” you asked instead. You were trying to get some of that control back that you had felt on your walk over here. You inhaled a subtle deep breath, catching another whiff of his cologne.

He chuckled lightly, ducking his eyes and looking at you through thick lashes that you envied. Your knees threatened to give out. “Bradley,” he introduced. He extended a hand. You took it, feeling the roughness of his palm and the strength of his grip. You couldn’t help but imagine those hands on your body, exploring every inch of you. You told him your name, and hummed in appreciation, repeating it. The syllables sounded like velvet coming from his mouth. “What brings you here tonight?”

“Oh,” you breathed. You drew your bottom lip between your teeth as you contemplated how to respond. You were proud of your decisions - of finally being free. But you weren’t sure how that would come across to a stranger you could definitely see yourself having a good time with. “Just…celebrating,” you settled on.

“Celebrating huh? Is it your birthday?”

“Maybe,” you shrugged, hoping it came across as playful and coy. By the laugh he let out, you thought you had succeeded.

“Okay, a woman of mystery I see.”

You smiled, lifting a shoulder again, not bothering to confirm or deny.

“Alright, mystery woman. Can I buy you a drink this time?”

You glanced over your shoulder, catching sight of all of your friends. They weren’t even trying to mask how they were staring at you, one of them even shooting you a thumbs up that made you roll your eyes. Bradley was still staring at you when you turned your gaze back to his, and you got lost in those dark honey eyes. It was sobering how quickly and intensely you were responding to him. You couldn’t remember the last time a man had that effect on you. That aspect of your marriage had been dried up long before the ink on the paper was. When the two of you finally separated almost a year ago, you had spent the time focusing on relearning who you were on your own, standing on your own two feet. You were cautious by nature, and it had been so long since you felt desire toward someone - even longer since you felt desired in return.

But when you shifted, you felt the straps and the lace comfortable against your skin under your dress, and you realized that maybe giving yourself the opportunity to show it off that night wouldn’t be such a bad idea. Maybe your friends had been onto something after all.

“I’d like that,” you finally said, and he was already smiling as he opened his mouth to respond, but you held up a finger to stop him. “But I have one condition.”

“Name it,” he said immediately. He was already waving down Penny behind the bar, and his lack of hesitation was so sexy.

“We move out of sight of my friends. I’d rather not feel them watching us the whole time.”

The laugh Bradley let out this time was loud and free, and you couldn’t help the giggle that escaped in return. His smile turned into a devilish grin and he leaned closer like he was going to share a secret. “Deal,” he said, “and also incredibly relatable. Don’t look now, but I’m pretty sure my friends are doing the exact same thing.”

Now that he said it, it did feel like there were multiple sets of eyes on you coming from opposing directions, and you giggled even harder. Once your drinks arrived, he stood up from his stool and offered you his hand. You had been right about him being tall, and you had to tamper down the sudden urge you felt to climb him like a tree. Instead, you took his hand and murmured for him to lead the way. You followed him closely as he led you through the crowded bar, feeling his warmth radiating off his body. The spicy scent of his cologne was intoxicating, and you found yourself wanting to breathe him in even more.

The cool night air was refreshing once you walked through the back doors and further down into the sand. Bradley kept a tight grip on your hand as you stumbled in your heels, but luckily it wasn't too far before he stopped next to a few sunken beach chairs.

You could still hear the music and the chatter from inside the bar, but it was quieter. There were string lights along the railing and torches in the sand that provided the slightest bit of light to where you could still easily see around you. You were far enough away that you could have privacy, but close enough to where you could easily scream and catch someone’s attention. You doubted it would get to that, but it was good to know your self preservation instincts were still working amongst all the things this man was making you feel.

It was nice out here, you decided, and before he could ask if it was okay, you were letting go of his hand and sidestepping him to sink down onto one of the oversized chairs. You patted the spot next to you as you looked up at him, and Bradley didn’t make you wait before he was squeezing onto the seat beside you. He was so close that his thigh pressed a delightful line against yours. It was all you could do not to melt into him.

You took a sip of your drink, the cold liquid providing some relief against the heat building in you. Bradley took a drink of his own, his eyes never leaving yours, and you couldn’t help yourself when you glanced down at his lips for a second; you wondered what it would be like to kiss them.

“Tell me something about yourself,” Bradley said, breaking the silence.

You thought for a moment, trying to think of something interesting to say. It was almost like you suddenly forgot every intriguing thing about yourself. You glanced down at the drink in your hand, swirling the liquid in the glass. “I’ve always wanted to learn how to fly,” you decided on.

Bradley sat up a little bit straighter, and pressed just a little bit closer. “Oh yeah?” he asked, and he sounded genuinely interested, almost excited. “Planes?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, and then couldn’t help the snort you let out. “Well my preference would be Superman style, but something tells me that won’t happen. So a plane will do.”

He smirked a little, taking another sip. He licked some of the liquid off of his mustache, and you wanted to know how the beer tasted off of it, too. “You’d look good in the spandex tights, though. No doubt about that.”

The line should have been gross and offensive, but coming from him, it felt like a compliment, and you couldn’t help but laugh as those butterflies erupted in your stomach again. “What about you?” you asked, and you didn’t know if it was your increasing level of comfortability with this man or the earlier tequila shot hitting your bloodstream, but you knocked your shoulder into his as you spoke. “Tell me something about yourself, Bradley.”

His smirk fell into a soft smile, and either mischief or the reflection of the moon was making his eyes sparkle. “You won’t believe me if I tell you.”

“Try me.”

He leaned so close that your breath caught, and for a moment you thought he was going to stop the conversation all together and kiss you. You were ready for it, even. But instead, he leant just a little bit to the side and whispered to you like he was sharing a secret, his lips brushing your ear. “I’m an aviator,” he told you, and his proximity made it so that it took a moment for the meaning to register to you.

“Oh my God,” you gasped, eyes wide, and he was already chuckling as he pulled away. “You fly!”

“I do,” he laughed, the sound deep and infectious, before tacking on in further explanation that he flew for the Navy.

“Wow,” you breathed, after he finished regalling you with more details about his aircraft and how long he had been flying, and the different planes he had gotten in the cockpit of over the years. He talked about it with a passion that you knew he wasn’t bullshitting or trying to impress you - he genuinely loved what he did. You toyed with the words before you spoke them, taking a deep breath and laying your palm on his thigh. You tried to keep your voice light and playful, despite your body humming. “Maybe you can teach me some time.”

“I’d be happy to,” he told you, “if you think you can handle it.”

It was a challenge, a proposition clear as day, and you knew it was your out if you wanted him to back down. But that’s not what you wanted. Not even a little bit. You swallowed thickly at how his gaze intensified. It felt like he was looking right through you like no one else ever has, and you liked it.

“I think you’ll find that I can handle a lot of things,” you murmured, and even you were surprised at how raspy your voice came out - sexy in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time. “I’m more than what I may seem.”

“So I’m discovering.” There was a moment of silence between you, but it wasn't an awkward one. Rather, it was charged with anticipation and desire. You could feel the pull between you, and you tracked the bulge of his adams apple as he swallowed. He cleared his throat and shook his head, and it was refreshing knowing you were having an effect on him, too. He held his half full glass up to yours, clinking them together once you did the same. “Here’s to discovering more.”

It got later and later as you sat out in the sand talking and getting to know this beautiful man sitting beside you. And the more you learned, the more you liked. He had a sense of humor that matched yours and a voice that sent shivers down your spine, and you hung onto every story with rapt attention that he returned whenever you spoke. Bradley was easy to talk to, and you found yourself getting lost in the conversation. The warmth of his body against yours was addicting, and you found yourself leaning into him even more.

“Can I make a confession?” you asked, after a particularly enrapturing tale of racing his best friend in an F-18 and almost getting caught doing so.

“I want to know all your secrets,” he said in return, and you almost moaned at how smooth the line was. Instead, you playfully rolled your eyes before you chewed on your bottom lip, trying to figure out how exactly to say it. He waited you out patiently, the hand from the arm he had draped across the back of the seat a little while ago tracing your shoulder so lightly you almost didn’t feel it. Your empty glasses were in the sand in front of you, but neither of you felt drunk on the limited alcohol you had consumed.

“I told you I was out celebrating tonight,” you started, and Bradley made a noise of recognition that let you know he remembered.

“Is it your birthday afterall?” he teased. You laughed softly at the way he put you so at ease.

“No, not my birthday. My friends actually insisted on taking me out tonight to celebrate some news I got earlier this week.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mmm,” you hummed, before taking a deep breath. “My divorce was finalized earlier this week.”

If he was surprised or bothered by your words, it didn’t show. In fact, he didn’t flinch at all, just sat as relaxed as he had been all night while his fingertips continued to cause goosebumps to erupt all over your skin from their contact with your shoulder.

“How do you feel about that?” he asked, and you couldn’t help but marvel at his nonchalance. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but you don’t think it was this. You sighed happily in response to his question, and was delighted when he laughed a little. “That good huh?”

“That great,” you corrected. You shrugged, and his hand steadied on your skin, a nice weight on your shoulder. A soft smile played on your lips. You knew you didn’t have to tell him - truly, it was probably better if you didn’t. But something made you want to be honest with him. You tried not to read too much into that. “It had been a long time since he made me feel the way a man should make his wife feel, you know? We were over way before I ever served him with the papers, which was almost a year ago now. So it was a long time coming.”

“Enough time to get over him?” Bradley asked. Your breath caught because you swore there was something like hope in his voice. You desperately wished you were right. Regardless, you didn’t hesitate in nodding.

“I’ve been over him for ages,” you confirmed. “Just took awhile to make it official.”

He made another noise of understanding, and leaned in closer. He lifted a hand and your heart raced wildly in your chest at the way he cupped your cheek, his thumb tracing your bottom lip in a way that made you gasp quietly. The way he was looking at you made it feel like you were the only two people in the world.

“He was a fool for letting you go,” he said, so quietly you wondered if he meant to say it out loud.

Bradley leaned in closer, his lips hovering near your ear. You felt the heat emanating from him, and your body responded with a shiver. "You deserve to be wanted," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. You turned your head to look at him, and for a moment, you were lost in his dark eyes. You felt a sudden urge to kiss him, to taste his lips that looked so soft and inviting. You leaned in, closing the gap between you.

The kiss was electric, sending shivers down your spine. His lips were soft and full, and his tongue was warm and intoxicating as it slid into your mouth. You moaned quietly, feeling a rush of desire pulse through your body. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. He responded with a low growl, his hands gripping your hips tightly. You went willingly when he pulled you into his lap.

You broke the kiss for a moment, gasping for air as his tongue slid along your chin, down your neck, leaving a burning trail of heat. He bit at your collarbone playfully, smiling up at you. It was wicked and full of promise.

He used his grip on your hips to pull you down onto him, groaning at the friction. His own hips arched up to meet yours, and your head fell back as you both let out a moan. His teeth grazed along the soft skin of your neck, and you couldn’t help but claw at his shoulders and the back of his neck as you felt the rush of heat already pooling between your legs. He was hard, you could tell, and you wanted him so badly.

You had no idea what was happening or what was going to happen next, but it didn’t matter. All you wanted right now was to feel his body against yours. You heard his breath hitch as you let your hands roam his chest, hard and warm against your palms, the muscles firm and toned. You let your fingernails drag down his abs, eliciting a groan from him, and you grinned in satisfaction. You wanted to see more of that reaction, see more of him.

You moved to scoot back, intending to unbutton his jeans, but he grabbed your wrist before you could.

“Let me take you somewhere,” he murmured, and you let out a breathy laugh even as you nodded.

“Bathroom inside? Your car?” You leaned in for another kiss, but Bradley pulled back. He cupped your face in his big hands. The pad of his thumb rubbed a smooth line on your cheek.

“You deserve more than a quickie in a bar bathroom or a parking lot, Sweetheart. Can I take you home?”

“Yeah,” you breathed. You were blown away at how he continued to make you feel, how he was treating you like you were worth something. You wanted him so much, and you thought it was more than just physical, even as you were aching.

Your friends were still inside, clearly having had more to drink while they waited for you, and flirting with a few men in uniform of their own. You made quick work of letting them know you were leaving, and you didn't stick around for their catcalling as you followed Bradley into the parking lot, your hand held tight in his. You were trembling as you sank into his front seat, and you know it’s not just from the chill in the air.

He kissed you again before he put the classic Bronco into gear, your address plugged into his GPS. His hand was heavy on your thigh during the drive, and part of you was glad he didn’t do more than let it rest there, a reminder of his presence. You weren’t sure you could handle any more without losing control.

He pulled into your driveway and killed the engine, and for a long moment, the two of you just sat there, breathing heavily as you looked at one another. Finally, after a long moment, he raised that gentle hand of his and tucked some of your hair behind your ear.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, and his voice sounded reverent.

“Bradley.” You let out a shaky breath, swallowing down all of your nerves. “Come inside.”

It was a miracle that you managed to open the door without dropping your keys as Bradley kissed down the side of your neck, and you pulled him inside eagerly. You didn’t bother giving him a tour as you guided him up the stairs to your room. There would be time for that later.

You bypassed the ceiling light to turn on one of the bedside table lamps instead, casting a soft glow throughout the spacious bedroom. Bradley was right there when you turned, the two of you moving at the same time. His hands stroked down your sides as you pressed yourself against him, his mouth hot and hungry against yours. You let out a moan as your tongue tangled with his again. You threaded your fingers through his hair, just as soft as it looked, and tugged. He hissed out a low, sexy sound of approval.

You pushed the Hawaiian shirt off his shoulders and then tugged at the white shirt underneath it. He took the hint, detaching from you to pull it off over his head, baring his chest. You stepped back for a moment and let your eyes wander over him. He was incredible, toned and muscular, and the light dusting of hair on his chest made you bite your lip. You wanted to trace the lines of his muscles with your tongue, feel him against you. Your eyes moved down to see his erection straining against his jeans, and you licked your lips. You were so ready for him, and he was ready for you. You could tell. When your eyes trailed back up to meet his, the look he was giving you was hungry.

Before you could overthink it, you were tugging at the side zipper holding your black dress together and lowering it. You pushed it off of your shoulders and let it fall to the ground. Bradley blinked once, his gaze inevitably dropping. His eyes widened noticeably as a deep groan tore from his throat.

“Jesus Christ, baby.” The wonder in his voice was evident as he took in the lingerie that your friends had thrown at you earlier in the night, and you made a mental note to thank them tomorrow.

He seemed to be struggling for breath as he swallowed and stepped forward, sliding his hands up your sides to cup your chest. His thumbs brushed across your nipples, and you moaned at the sensation, arching into him. He leaned in and kissed you again before he began to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, over your collarbone, down to one breast. You dug your nails into his scalp, whimpering as you felt his teeth tug at your nipple through the lacy fabric. His tongue teased it, flicking over the sensitive skin. And then, with no warning at all, he was lifting you up and laying you down on the bed. You raised up on your elbows as he made quick work of taking off his belt and unbuttoning his jeans. He pushed them and his briefs down all in one go until they pooled at his feet. Your eyes widened at the site. His cock was hard and huge, and you grew wetter just looking at him.

You held out your hand without a word. He crawled onto the mattress, looming over your body as he braced his hands on either side of you. He kissed you again, his mouth hot and hungry against yours. Your hand wrapped around the back of his neck, pulling him closer. He kissed you for a long time, so long you thought you were going to be drunk off of it. When he did pull away, it was only to trail his lips down your neck, making you writhe as his mustache brushed against your sensitive skin. His mouth moved to your collarbone again, then down to one breast, and then the other. You keened at the sensation. Then his lips were on your stomach, and he shimmied himself down the bed until he was between your thighs. Slowly, he tugged your panties down your legs. He spread you wide, his eyes never leaving your center. He leant forward and inhaled deeply, groaning at the scent - your scent. He pressed a featherlight kiss to the inside of your thigh where it was settled on his shoulder before looking up at you.

“I’m going to devour you,” he stated. Before you had any time to react, his mouth was on you.

He was ravenous, lapping at you as if you were the best thing he’d ever tasted. You felt it all the way through your body as he moaned against you, your body writhing against his mouth. You were so hot, so ready for this man to take you. You let out a loud moan as he licked your clit, then took it into his mouth and sucked. It was almost embarrassing how quickly he brought you to the edge as his mouth worked you over expertly.

You don’t remember the last time a man had his mouth on you, let alone made you come from it. When you came, it was hard and loud, your hands buried in his hair, his name a mantra on your lips. He crawled back up the length of your body and kissed you, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. His thick cock twitched against your sensitive pussy, and the feeling of him settling between your legs was enough to have you pulling away from his kiss, breathing deeply.

His eyes were dark with lust as he looked down at your body, and you felt your face heating up at his silent perusal.

“I’m clean,” you whispered urgently, “if you want…”

He answered you with a groan of your name, his forehead pressed to yours, his cock twitching. “I am too. You sure?” You nodded, and without a word, you reached for him. You watched his face as you stroked him slowly. His eyes fluttered closed, and he leaned into your touch. He let out a throaty moan when you guided him to your entrance.

“Please,” you whispered. His eyes opened as he slid into you, filling you up entirely. He stilled for a moment, letting you adjust to the feeling. He was so thick and hard inside of you; you felt so impossibly full.

“You feel incredible,” he told you, still not moving, but you could feel how much he wanted to.

“Bradley,” you begged, and he withdrew slowly until just the head of his cock was still inside of you, pressing against your clit. He slid back in again, filling you up until you couldn’t think of anything but the feeling of him deep inside of you. You could feel it all the way to the top of your head, all the way down to your toes, and you moaned as he pulled out and thrust back in again.

His pace was tortuously slow at first, in a way that could only be deliberate, driving you crazy. You could feel every inch of him leave and enter you, over and over again. The feeling of him moving inside of you was almost more than you could stand, but still, you wanted more. You were ready to beg him to go harder, faster, but you didn’t need to as he finally, finally started to pick up the pace. You wrapped your legs around his hips as he found a steady, powerful rhythm. You cried out with every thrust, and he groaned out your name, his arms shaking with the strain of holding himself up above you. Soon, he was fucking you hard. Every thrust drove him deeper inside of you, hitting that spot that made it almost impossible to breathe. You could feel yourself getting close.

“Come on, baby,” he panted. “Come for me.”

You were drowning in him, and when he pulled you in for another kiss, there was so much passion you thought you might be swept away by it all. You’re not sure what to do with yourself, but you know you don’t want this moment to end. Your walls tightened around him as you let go, and you could feel him shuddering as he came with you.

He stayed there, kissing you softly for a long time before he gently pulled out, rolling onto his back beside you. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you with him. You pressed a kiss to his chest before you rested your cheek on his sweaty skin, listening to his heartbeat as it began to slow. He kissed your head lightly, and for a while, the two of you just laid there, basking in the afterglow.

It was Bradley who finally broke the silence, and your whole body trembled at his words.

“Rest for a little bit, sweetheart. I’m not done with you tonight.”

Your pussy clenched. You could still feel his cum oozing out of you slowly from round one, and if you were honest with yourself, you had been wet since you first laid eyes on him. You picked your head up to look at him. Your voice was breathy with anticipation when you asked, “Is that so?”

“Yes. And then, I’m gonna convince you to let me stay the night. And in the morning, after at least one orgasm, I’m gonna cook you breakfast.”

Your breath caught and a lump formed in your throat. He said it so confidently, like it was an indisputable fact. You were surprised at how much you longed for it to be just that.

This was not at all how you had anticipated your night going.

“And after that?” You dared yourself to ask.

He traced your cheek with a sated smile on his handsome face, his mustache twitching and his dark honey eyes sparkling. “I told you, you deserve to be wanted. And I want you.”

--------------

Main Masterlist

Notes: Happy Birthday Em! Thanks for being born. Hope you enjoyed this! Now go do fuckboy things and celebrate 🎉💚

Thanks to @mak-32 for the banner and for all of her help with this!

Tag List: @roosterforme @mak-32 @wildxwidow @gretagerwigsmuse @lilyevanswhore @too-fangirl-to-fuction @fav-fanficssss @notroosterbradshaw @teacupsandtopgun @sometimesanalice @sunflowersteves @littlezee80 @je-suis-prest-rachel @khaylin27 @infamous-reindeer @hotch-meeeeeupppppp @yanna-banana @avengersfan25 @wkndwlff @sylviebell @lt-spork @indynerdgirl

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bradshawsvinyl · 2 months

Text

Begin Again Part Two

As a first grade teacher, you couldn’t help but fall for your sweet student and her very attractive Navy fighter pilot father.

Part One. Part Three.

Bradley could not believe his ears. He was pretty sure if he looked into a mirror his face would be tomato red. He had never felt more humbled in his life.

“I’m not sure where she got that from,” Bradley awkwardly laughed. “You know how kids are. They get confused sometimes. Right Tara?”

“But Daddy,” Tara started. “You told Aunt Phoenix that my teacher was…”

“Well,” Bradley said while looking at you. “We have to um get going. See you tomorrow Ms. Y/L/N.” He practically dragged Tara out of your classroom.

You politely smiled and waved. “Bye Tara! Bye Mr. Bradshaw!” You said.

Bradley and Tara leaving meant you finally had some time to yourself. You wondered if Tara was telling the truth. Bradley was right. You did know how kids are. Maybe Tara overheard Bradley’s conversation and got confused. That had to be why she said that.

The next day on base, Bradley practically ran to Phoenix. “What do I do? Phoenix please help me,” He begged.

Phoenix began walking towards the on base locker rooms. “Bradshaw, what the hell is up with you?”

Bradley made quick steps to keep up with Phoenix. “Yesterday, when I went to pick up Tara, she walked up to her teacher and told her that I think she’s pretty,” he said with a hint of embarrassment in his voice.

“Yikes Rooster,” Phoenix replied. “I don’t even think I can help you get out of that one.” She said before bursting into laughter.

“Phoenix please. What should I say to her today? Should I just ignore her or what? You’re the girl here, you have to have something I can do.” Bradley said, voice laced with desperation.

“Look Bradley,” Phoenix said seriously. “Just be honest with her. Tell her that what Tara said is true and that you meant no harm by it. I don’t know what else to say.”

Bradley sighed, said goodbye to Phoenix, and did the walk of shame to his Ford Bronco. It was time to pick up Tara again. It was time to see you again.

At school, Tara was the last person to be picked up again. You led her inside of your classroom and patiently waited for her father to arrive. At four o clock, he knocked on your door.

“Daddy,” Tara yelled while running to Bradley.

“Hi sweetie!” He said while giving her a hug. “Hi Ms Y/L/N.” He said with a polite wave in your direction.

“Hi Mr. Bradshaw.” You said politely. “Before you go, I just wanted to remind you that drop off is at 3 o'clock.”

“Crap,” he said while letting go of Tara. “Sorry. I’m a single dad and sometimes it’s hard to transport Tara from place to place. I fly planes for the Navy so my schedule isn’t very lenient.”

“It’s okay Mr. Bradshaw.” You said while smiling at him. “I have no problem keeping Tara after school for a few hours if it would help you.”

“That would mean a lot as long as it’s not an inconvenience to you.” He said. Bradley couldn’t believe you had offered to watch Tara for him. Finding someone he trusted to watch Tara while he was at work could be hard. Not only were you nice to look at, you were also just nice. “You can just call me Bradley by the way.”

“I’m Y/N then,” you said while holding your hand out for him to shake. “I’m happy to help you. I know it’s only the third day of school but Tara is one of my best students so far.” You said with a wide smile in Tara’s direction.

“Thank you so much.” He smiled while grabbing Tara’s backpack and jacket. “Oh.” He said while turning around to face you again. He quickly ran his fingers through his hair and closed his eyes before quickly opening them again. “About what Tara said yesterday,” he started. “I did say you were attractive in confidence to my friend. She must have overheard and I’m really sorry if this makes things awkward now, but I just wanted you to know the truth,” he rambled on, “But um yeah I apologize.” He said while running his fingers through his hair again.

“All is forgotten,” you said. “And for the record, you’re not too bad yourself.” You said, slightly blushing.

Bradley grinned. He couldn’t believe his ears. “I should probably give you my number,” he said while pulling out his phone. “You know since you’re going to be staying with Tara for a while after school.”

“Right.” You said taking his phone and typing in your number. “I’ll see you tomorrow Tara.” You waved. “Bye Bradley!”

When you checked your phone after getting home and showering you saw a message from an unknown number.

Hey, it's Bradley. I can’t wait to see more of you. And thanks again for helping with Tara.

You put your phone down and smiled. Then you thought of what to say to Bradley.

Happy to help! See you tomorrow.

You couldn’t wait to see more of Bradley either.

Authors note: I love writing these characters! Please let me know if you want part three. Happy Reading!

-Willow 🩷

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simpforrooster · 1 year

Text

a very important meeting.

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x f!Reader

summary: you're on your way to your office when you get stuck in the elevator with the most annoying naval aviator.

t/w: cursing, some sensual material ahead, getting stuck in elevators

The elevator doors open, revealing a fighter pilot inside. Your stomach drops to your feet as you take in your worst nightmare. For a split second, you consider turning around and hiking it up 8 flights of stairs, but resign and join the pilot.

He watches you settle into the opposite corner from him. You pull out your phone, deciding to ignore him during the quick ride up to your office.

Bradley Bradshaw clearly has other ideas. “Hey, y/n,” he taunts.

“Hi, Chicken,” you reply, not looking up from your phone.

“It’s Rooster,” he corrects, those brown eyes staring a hole through the side of your head.

“It’s cute that you think I care,” you tell him, sliding your phone into your work bag. The elevator numbers climb up past two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Six.

The sound of the elevator stopping between floors sends a new kind of dread through your body. The elevator lurches, throwing you into Bradshaw. His strong arms wrap around your waist, steadying you. You don’t miss the way he keeps them on you a second longer than he should.

“Is there a reason you’re blushing like that?” he asks, his voice low.

“Other than the fact that this is my worst nightmare, nope.”

Rooster grins.

“You’re insufferable,” you tell him, pushing him away from you. He answers you with his annoying laugh that you secretly love.

Rooster reaches around you and presses the emergency button. Never taking his eyes off you, he tells the attendant about the mishap. Fear overtakes you as she tells Rooster it may be a few hours until they can get the elevator working again.

“Guess we better get comfortable,” Rooster says. He slides down to the ground and pats the spot next to him.

“You don’t have to pretend to like me right now, Bradley,” you say, sitting opposite of him. “This is torture enough.”

A strange look passes over his face.

The two of you barely tolerate one another, and it’s been this way for years. You can’t pinpoint exactly what caused the tension between the two of you. You also can’t pinpoint exactly when that animosity turned more toward flirting. Or when you looked at Rooster one day and decided that he was probably the most handsome man in the Navy.

“You’re nervous,” he murmurs.

“I'm stuck in an elevator with you, of course I’m nervous. What if I hurt you?” you say, trying to lighten the mood. This makes his lip pull up in the corner.

Rooster stands, coming over to where you’re sitting. “Well, I’m nervous for a whole other reason. What if I kiss you?” He takes his hand in yours and pulls you up.

“You don’t mean that,” you whisper.

“Oh come on, y/n. I flirt with you all the time.” Rooster takes a small step toward you.

“No, you argue with me all the time.”

He takes another small step, and your back hits the wall. “Riling you up is my favorite pastime. You’re so hot when you’re mad.”

Did he just call you hot?

“Don’t get my hopes up, Roos.” From this angle, it’s hard to ignore the height difference between the two of you.

“Ah, so you admit all this between us has been flirting?” he smirks, bracing himself against the wall, his large hand just on the outside of your head. His other hand slides around your waist.

“I don’t know what to call it,” you whisper.

“You can call it me wanting you,” he says. “I’ve wanted you since the moment I laid eyes on you.”

You don’t believe the words that are coming out of his mouth. He can’t mean them, can he? It must be the stuck-in-an-elevator-with-nothing-else-to-do talking. Those brown eyes seem to stare straight into your soul. There is nothing you want more than for him to kiss you right now. This man you’ve seemingly hated.

But you know he’s right, all that hatred was actually flirtation.

You’ve never seen him out with another woman. He’s never taken one home from the bar. Hell, you’re pretty sure you’ve watched him toss a phone number the second the girl turned away from him.

At this realization, you can’t remember the last time you flirted with anyone who wasn’t the man in front of you.

Hangman doesn’t count, he’s the resident playboy. It’s not your fault if you flirt back.

Bradley leans in a little closer, searching your eyes for any hesitation. When he finds none, he leans in juuuust a little more.

“Just tell me to stop,” he cautions.

You absolutely don’t want him to. Craning your face up to take him in, he takes this as full-steam-ahead.

As he crushes his mouth to yours, you would have been a fool to stop him. You’ve never kissed anyone like this. Kisses of urgency, longing, and honestly, breathtaking. It’s as if every other man you kissed was only practice. Bradley must feel the same way because you cannot mistake the groan that just fell from his lips. The sound buzzing against yours deliciously.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this,” he murmurs in your ear. Bradley presses his body into yours, tightly tucking you in between him and the elevator wall. His erection presses into your lower half, and if his bedroom performance is anything like his kisses…

Your hands slither up his chest to grip his t-shirt. He smirks against your lips before changing direction and claiming your neck.

“You taste every bit as sweet as I thought you would,” he says. “My fantasies don’t even come close.”

A whimper escapes your mouth before you can grab it, letting him know just what his words are doing to you. He chuckles against your neck, that mustache of his feeling exactly as you thought it would.

He’s not the only one with fantasies. Bradley’s hands reach for the top of your jeans, pulling you to attention.

“Bradley, there are cameras in here,” you say. There’s no way you’re having sex with Bradley for the first time in an elevator. He just ignores you, pulling your mouth back to his, offering you hungry kisses.

“You’ve never called me that before.” He pulls back just enough for the words to leave his mouth, and then he’s back to his ministrations. “I do not care.”

“I do, my dad probably has access to them,” you say, killing that erection immediately at the mention of your admiral father.

“Fuck,” Bradley concedes, dropping his arms from around you. He puts as much distance between the two of you as he can, his eyes promising more to come once this elevator is fixed.

Rooster punches the emergency button again.

“Sir, the crew is working as hard as they can to get the elevator operational.”

“Let them know the admiral’s daughter is also stuck in here, and she has a very important meeting to make,” he responds, never taking his eyes off of you. Bradley drops his left eye in a flirty wink, that smirk on his face as equally delicious.

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

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multifan2022 · 1 year

Text

Used to be yours

Masterlist

You were never part of Bradley's plan. The plan consisted of two things, getting into the Navy, and being a pilot. But the day he met you was the day his list grew, grew to include you, the constantly forgotten best friend of his most hated classmate. Jake Seresin. He would never forget his Tapout ceremony, because that's where his real story starts.

You had known Jake your whole life so it wasn't really a surprise when he asked you to come to the ceremony. His father had also hated you for at least your entire friendship with his son. You, in his eyes, were nowhere near good enough to be associating with the Seresin Heir. It didn't matter that you had money of your own, sitting away in a trust fund. In Jacob Sr's eyes you were just the kid from town who's daddy had died in the line of duty.

It didn't matter that said daddy had died while on call as a firefighter..

So when you were told to buy your own ticket, get your own hotel room and rental car you really weren't surprised. What did surprise you though was Jake barely even saying hi to you before he was introducing some girl to the rest of his family. The snarky smile she gave you and the little finger wave of condescension turned your stomach. The little life that Jake had unknowingly left there the night before not yet protesting, but the action caused your heart to squeeze in pain. Without having to speak, since no one was listening anyways, you walked away and to the bathroom.

Your heart broke slightly when you came back and the entire Seresin family was nowhere to be seen. They had left, off to some fancy dinner without you. Jake had left.. without you.. suddenly the receipts for this trip flashed in your mind. The money for the ticket, room, the car you rented. The pretty black dress and shoes you bought to wear. All money wasted..

At least it was wasted until you turned around and noticed a group of high ranking Military men standing looking sadly at something. Side stepping a little you looked past them to see another man, still standing at attention, clearly waiting for no one but waiting all the same. You didn't know what took you over but suddenly you couldn't look away. Your feet moved towards him without thinking as you took him in.

He was beautiful. Beautiful in a broken kind of way, the same way you always saw in yourself when you looked in the mirror. Scars on his neck and face came into view the closer you got. And when his brown eyes locked onto yours it was like the entire world faded. Like you could see yourself introducing this man to your friends, to your grandma. Taking him to your dad's grave without him laughing or being awkward like Jake did the one time you took him there.

Bradley was shocked to see someone walking towards him. He wanted to turn and see who you were really looking for but he knew he was the only one left out on the field. He had seen Natasha pause wanting to turn around and tap him out. He could see her now from the corner of the field watching as this beautiful girl walked towards him. You stopped just in front of him and whispered a small hi. Clearly you were embarrassed, he was too. But when you asked in a voice much stronger if it was okay for you to tap him out he almost sagged in relief. When your hand came up to tap him on the shoulder tears filled his eyes.

Without asking his arms wrapped around you, yours easily coming around to hold him just as tightly. For some reason seeing him left out on the field waiting for someone who couldn't show up made you understand him on a level that so many other people couldn't. You ask him to go to dinner with you and the two of you spent the entire night talking about your parents and his. Expressing how grateful you both were to have someone in your life for you, it was your grandma for him, his Uncle Maverick. Maverick was due back the next day meaning that when Bradley practically begged you to meet him you couldn't turn it down.

The next morning when Bradley opened the door to the home he and Maverick were temporarily sharing, the wind was knocked out of his lungs. He had never been more sure than in that moment that his parents were truly looking out for him as his eyes took in the Hawaiian style dress sundress you were wearing. You mistook his awed look though, quickly explaining how your parents got married in Hawaii and how after your mother passed away your father took to wearing Hawaiian shirts to try and honor her memory. And how even after he passed away you tried to continue that tradition.

Bradley stopped you with a soft smile even though inside he wanted to strangle whoever it was that made you feel so self-conscious about it. Gently he grabbed your hand and guided you up to his makeshift room pulling out a Hawaiian shirt that belonged to his dad and telling you a very similar story. It was the start of what would become a fairytale-like story.

Three months later you were storming from Seresin family ranch and sprinting for your car. Positive pregnancy test fisted in your grip as Jacob's words replayed over and over in your mind. "No son of mine will be drug down by a bastard child." "You're just a sad little girl who's looking for a family" "He will never love you". After Jacob SR demanded he pay for an abortion you stormed out. His mother caught up to you on the porch, promising your child a trust fund and enough money to care for a baby for 18 years if you just swore to never tell Jake.

You were suddenly thankful that your plane ticket was for the same day. Bradley was coming home the next day and Mav had asked you to pick him up from the docks. You were beyond excited to see him. Your love for Jake had faded every single day as you talked to Bradley. You were terrified to tell him though that there was a baby growing in you. One that was put there by someone who went out of his way to make Bradley's life harder. Someone who used the fact that Bradley's parents had passed away as a reason why he wasn't good enough to be a pilot.

The next day your phone rang as this giant ship got closer and closer to the dock. Bradley had been staring at his phone for 10 minutes waiting to get enough service to call. He just wanted to know when the soonest he would be able to see you. He could hear the deep sadness and worry in your voice when you said you were waiting on the dock for him. He thought nothing could dampen the pure excitement he felt knowing that someone was waiting for him, especially someone he loved as much as he loves you. But he was proved wrong when he saw how puffy and red your eyes were. How your bottom lip quivered the closer he got. The only thought then was what he would do to make you feel better.

And that's what he did for the last 10 years every decision Bradley Bradshaw has ever made has been made with the utmost care. When he adamantly wanted nothing more than to continue dating you. When he said he wanted to be there for the birth of your daughter. Another year later when he got out on one knee and asked you to become his wife. When two years later he begged you to let him adopt and make her officially a Bradshaw. And potentially the biggest decision he's ever made to date, was made last week when Cyclone pulled all of the aviators and officially made them the dagger Squad. Everyone besides Maverick, Cyclone and Phoenix were shocked to hear the mustache man say that he needed to call and talk to his wife. The guys all sat around talking about how none of them had even known Bradshaw was married.

Jake scoffed and rolled his eyes when Phoenix told him in a very hard voice that it wasn't any of his business. Jake never understood because no matter how hard he tried to reconcile and create a friendship with Rooster the man just constantly blew him off. It didn't matter how many times he apologized for bringing up his dad. Or for screaming nepotism when he found out that Bradley had grown up with Ice and Mav. Bradley held strong that he couldn't forgive some of the things the man had said. But Jake didn't know Bradley wouldn't forgive him for the words that he spoke to you.

Bradley remembers the devastation on your face when you called Jake to tell him you were pregnant. It had taken Maverick and himself two months to talk you into it. And it was something Bradley hated remembering, hates that he had a hand in. Because he will never forget the look on your face when Jake told you he couldn't be friends with you anymore. That being friends with a young, single mother was bad for not only his family's reputation but his own. That he didn't want his higher up thinking he hung out with people who made bad choices. He hung up before you ever got the chance to tell him who the baby belonged to.

Two months later an envelope arrived in the mail, inside were papers that broke your heart even more. Paperwork signed by Jake stating that he wanted nothing to do with any potential child. Bank account information as well as trust fund information for your daughter from his parents with a letter from his mother apologizing that they could have nothing to do with you or her.

You never spoke to or of Hangman again, until your husband called and told you he had a possible permanent assignment. Told you the details and who would be there. You wanted to say no. Wanted to tell Bradley to come back to his previous team, back to the small home you had made for yourselves. But you could hear the underlying excitement in his voice. Could see the hope shining in his eyes even over Face-time. You knew being close to Mav and Ice would bring him joy. Being at TOPGUN made him feel closer to his father. Would give him an opportunity to become an instructor. You knew that you couldn't allow your past to destroy something beautiful in your future. Even if you knew that Rooster wouldn't complain a single time if you said you couldn't do it. But for him… you could do anything.

Even at that something was seeing Hangman. And yes that was what you were going to call him because the person you remembered as Jake was the first person you had ever fallen in love with, a boy from your childhood who would do anything and everything to make you smile. Hangman was the guy who left you at his Tapout ceremony. The guy who left when he found out you were pregnant. The guy who had hung you out to dry and never looked back. While you were ridiculously grateful that he had saved your husband and surrogate father in law, you couldn't forgive him for everything else.

That's why now Bradley was standing on the tarmac nervous as hell. Because he hadn't seen you or his daughter in months and of course Hangman had to be here with the group. Claiming he wanted to see everyone's happy reunions. Bradley had sent you a text stating that the blond was here, he just hoped you would see it before you got off the plane. As he watched the tires bounce on the ground he got a text.

BeautifulGirl: Hen wants Mav to catch her off the stairs like always. Catch me BradBrad?

BradBrad: Always Beautiful. Be the last off for me. ❤️

He leaned over and showed the text messages to Maverick who chuckled and shook his head even though deep down he absolutely loved having a tradition with his granddaughter. So together they stood and waited watching as Phoenix's girlfriend came rushing down the stairs screaming for her. As Bob's little sister brought over his dog, and as Payback reunited with his two daughters and wife before moving forward.

Bradley turned back looking at the group, happy to find that Coyote and Hangman were being introduced to Payback's wife so they were too busy to watch. As soon as they reached the bottom of the plane stairs a beautiful little blonde girl with sea-foam green eyes threw herself off the second to last step and into the arms of her Grandpa, both of them laughing. Pete gently stepped out of the way so that you could throw your arms and legs around your husband pressing your lips together all in pretty much one movement. He wrapped one arm under your butt, holding you too him while the other wrapped around your neck. It was a feeling neither of you would ever get used to or tired of.

Being together, touching each other in any way was addictive. The two if you were always touching. Whether it was holding hands or Bradley's hand resting on your back or you sitting on his lap, you were always touching when you were together. Next to you you guys could hear Mav and Henley giggling. Bradley smiled whispering to you "I'm chop liver to her when Poppas here" you nodded brushing your fingers down his cheek. Mavs voice broke the little bubble around the two of you. "How about we go get some lunch and ice cream then my little Henny can stay the night."

Hangman watched from the other side of the tarmac as Rooster and Maverick each carried someone away from the plane and towards Bradley's Bronco. There was something in the back of his mind and in his heart screaming to get a closer look. To know who this little girl was in Mavericks arms. To just see the face of the woman that was so tightly held against Bradley. But as he went to take a step forward Phoenix laid a hand on his chest and gave him a hard look while shaking her head. When he looked back up the little family was already loading into the Bronco.

PART 2

#bradley bradshaw #rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster bradshaw fic #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x oc #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x y/n #rooster top gun #rooster x reader #rooster x you #rooster x y/n #topgun maverick #top gun maverick

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notroosterbradshaw · 2 years

Text

The Boyfriend Experience - Part 2 /2

7k words of Rooster being your super wonderful, pretend plus one! A few swears, but it’s the Navy, goddammit! The fluffiness should make up for it.

The Boyfriend Experience 1 / 2

“Thank God you didn’t catch the bouquet,” Rooster rolled his eyes as you wandered back, bored. "Could you look any less interested?" he bit back a smile.

“I could, yes," you told him, patting his cheek with a gentle thwack as he chuckled.

”Well, you made sure I didn't have a run there to fake propose in front of all these witnesses. Left my fake engagement ring in my dresser drawer back at base,” he snapped his fingers. "Fuck."

"You'd have really ruined this wedding if you proposed. Even you must know the lack of decorum of proposing at someone else's wedding. You probably wouldn't need to go to those extremes," you laughed quietly.

He nodded and grinned. "I'd guarantee you a life of no more wedding BS though."

"You're probably right. How long you been sitting on that?”

"Just came to me," he admitted. "But you can't tell me it's not an amazing idea to get everyone off your ass."

"Thank you for not going to those lengths," you said as his head fell back and he kept giggling. Yes, Rooster was a giggler after a few drinks. And it was adorable.

Looking back at you, he said, "I guess we're almost done though. Since I have this," Rooster grinned widely, flinging the bride’s baby blue garter at your face. You flicked it right back and he caught it easily. He'd mortified you that he'd made such a spectacle to get his mitts on it earlier in the evening - he literally speared a dude to get to the front and leapt over the Best Man to catch it. "My Little League coach would be so proud today."

"You're the worst," you reached for his whiskey as he looked on proudly.

"You disappointed us as a couple and missed the bouquet to boot but I forgive you because you've graduated to a very sexy drink. That's my girl," he raised his eyebrow, waiting patiently for your sip, which you did gladly.

"You're such a dick," you could only respond, handing the glass back as he chuckled, putting the garter back in his breast pocket, patting it safely.

"Taken you 30 years to figure it out - that's more on you than me though," he teased.

"Last song of the night, friends," the MC of the band announced as Rooster offered you his hand. "Your bride and groom are ready to kick into matrimonial bliss part of the night and we all have to head home at some point!"

"You're not getting out of this. It's our last dance as fake lovers," he said, giving you the creepiest bedroom eyes, or you supposed, that you’d ever seen. How had he managed to bed so many women if that was his game, you'd never know (you assumed it was probably a lot less effort than batting his lashes, to be completely honest), and you shook your head with a smile. He stood to his full height and offered you his calloused palm. You naturally accepted, lacing your fingers through his. You loved the warmth his hands gave yours.

"Can you never say 'lovers' again?" you asked, spirited, as he spun you under his arm, leading you to the dancefloor, laughing loudly.

"Never," he promised as the song began. The band started Elvis' "I'm All Shook Up", most people in the room made their way to the dancefloor and Rooster praised the gods. You liked the song but loved the joy it clearly stirred in Rooster more. You adored how much he loved music, though he admitted he was never taught piano, guitar, or even drums but was pretty good at each of them, or he liked to think so. He played by ear and enjoyed experimenting with sounds. You'd romanticised Rooster playing at home in the quiet, just for himself, tinkering with keys, strumming strings. It made you kind of weak to think of him creatively like that. He was certainly full of surprises and you were yearning to know more.

He was unlike anyone you knew - you'd learned so much tonight and appreciated the human he was more than just the talented pilot most assumed of him, you thought maybe he appreciated people thought he was fairly one-dimensional, he liked his space and privacy. "New one to learn for the bar?" you offered as he pondered the question.

"Shit, maybe," he contemplated with a nod and he pulled you close. While not an incredibly slow song, Rooster actually moved quite well. Yet another thing you had learned about him tonight and he pulled your back to his chest, keeping you pressed to him, his hands spreading across your belly, keeping a respectful amount of space between your bodies. He took your hand and spun you back to him, facing the other again and he smiled slow, a smile you'd certainly never seen before but enjoyed thoroughly as his hands moved to the back of your ribs, dragging you closer to him.

He loosened a hand and put your arms around his neck, the height difference between you bringing your body crushed against him and it felt kind of... perfect.

"Thank you for tonight," you said, just between the two of you. He smiled faintly, his hands caressing your back. Once he'd found access to skin, his hand kept a close touch all night and your back felt cold without it.

"It's really me that should be thanking you," he admitted, lips dangerously close to your ear and you'd deny it, but it shook you to the core. Looking at him, your feet stopped moving and the world may have stopped too. Here he was, right in front of you, just like he always had been... but he was completely new to you now. "I haven't had a night like this in a really long time," he continued earnestly. "Almost felt like a real date."

You had lost the ability to talk, because thinking about it later, you'd realise, this was the first of many nights like this. But it wouldn't pretend anymore. He would be yours, and you would be his right back. And the pretence would be gone; traded for romance that didn't need to be held back, touches on skin that meant something because it was their skin you'd touched so many times before, still able to draw the same spark as it had tonight.

Rooster's lips met your forehead, leaving a lingering kiss against your skin and you held him just a little bit tighter. "I got you, kid," he told you softly but wasn't quite sure why he added, "You're safe with me."

And you may have believed him.

"Do you two want a lift?" Annie asked as the festivities started to come to a close. The bride and groom had left, guests were starting to organise themselves to do the same, the band was packing up and the music was over for the generic 'get the fuck out of our venue now' muzak. After your last duties for the evening to help Sarah's parents collect the gifts and load their car, you went back to the table to collect your belongings, thankful it was all finally over... as well as the evening.

It was a long day, and saying you were exhausted, physically, mentally... emotionally, was an understatement. Things were a bit muddled to you now and you were feeling a little unhinged at the growing flutters in your tummy while so close to Rooster. He was currently holding your bouquet and your clutch like it was absolutely no big thing.

"Rooster, I don't think you should drive. I can get you both back. I'm the designated driver for another three weeks and one day," she looked at her belly, accusingly. "Unless you'd like to come sooner, please?"

"Shit," he muttered. He had probably had one or two drinks too many, he realised. Palming his keys in his pants pocket, he replied he would just walk back to base. Wasn't at all far, he had his credentials. Fresh air would sober him up anyway.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, absolutely. Thank you though. I'm sure your little sister will get me back safely," he joked entirely for Annie's benefit. But your feet, your poor feet were shredded. You gave yourself kudos, you'd done the right thing and kept your heels on the duration of the day, but all you could imagine was peeling them off and preparing for the onslaught of blisters and discomfort as soon as humanly possible.

"Okay," she grinned. "Take care, Rooster," she hugged him and he hugged her back, trying to avoid her baby bump politely. "So good to see you."

"You too, Annie," he replied fondly. "I had a great night."

"Don't be a stranger when you're in town. Let's do this again soon. Come over for dinner, bring her," she nodded to you.

"I might," Rooster gave her a shy smile and Annie hugged him again. "I'm thinking of moving back so you may be seeing a bit more of me anyway," he said and your ears pricked up, this was brand new information and your palms may have clammed up a little.

"You should, everyone would be so happy you're home," she told him.

"Definitely thinking about it," he promised.

"Good, Please get my sister home safely?" she warned him.

"Of course, she's precious cargo," he smiled as Annie kissed you and waddled over to Arron, her extremely drunk hubby.

"I could have gone with that lift," you told him as you watched them leave. Your poor feet.

"Nah, you're okay," he said. "Let's go for a walk."

"Rooster," you protested. "I might cry."

Rooster pouted. "Then I'll piggyback you," he broke into a smile as a few of the single bridesmaids said goodnight to you both. "Come with me. Got an idea," he urged, nodding towards the door, not waiting for you and taking off in his strides in that direction. Moving as quick and gracefully as the heels would allow, you caught him at the door where he took your hand and you followed him to the beach. It was pitch black minus the moon's reflection on the water, nearing midnight when he stopped at the edge of the grass to sand and watched him unbutton his jacket to sit. You did the same. "Feet, please?" he asked quietly.

Confused, you weren't sure why you offered him your left foot, but his fingers made haste unbuckling the silver heel you had been wearing for hours and hours.

"Gentle," he told himself as he pulled the off, and held his palm out for your other foot that you gratefully offered, the relief almost instantaneous. Putting your heels together, he lightly pressed into the arches of your feet, your ankles, your calves, the pain worth it for a few moments, looking at you with a gentle frown to make sure he wasn't hurting you, but it was definitely worth it. "Okay?" you nodded as he slipped off his jacket and left it in a pile with your shoes, purse and bouquet. He unlaced his loafers, took his socks with them and cuffed his slacks up to his lower calf although there was little give to them. "Shit," he muttered, pulling at the wrong piece of his bowtie and knotting it tighter.

"Here, Roost," you said softly, sitting up to kneel, he watched you in keen interest as your fingers worked to loosen the tie. Knowing he'd made it worse before it unravelled under your touch, you smiled as he happily unbuttoned the first few holes on his shirt, showing a little of his strong, golden chest and a light smattering of dark hair.

"Thank you," he said quietly. "Up," he got up slowly, finding the buttons on the cuffs of his shirt and rolling both to his muscular forearms. He smiled, offering his hand. He pulled you up, your sore feet sending you careening into him softly. He nodded towards the water and followed you through the sand.

The night was cool, but in the height of summer, not unbearable by any stretch of the imagination. Stopping right before the waves, you looked back at him.

"I promise you, those feet will feel a million bucks in about 15 seconds," and he hitched you into his arms, taking you out to his knees, lowering you amid squeals of cold and a now damp skirt around your thighs. He didn't give you space, he stood behind you, his hands resting on your belly, chin on your hair. You felt him sigh behind you.

"Dammit, Rooster," you cursed him although grinning in the madness, trying not to shiver as the waves splashed around you. It was a little chillier in the water than you would have liked, but Rooster was close and he was almost radiator hot. "It's f-f-freezing," you chattered.

"It's the ocean at midnight," he said in your ear. "What were you expecting?" he posed a good question. "But your feet don't hurt now, do they?"

"Actually, I can't feel them... because they're numb," you replied, your toes thumbing in the sand beneath you, it grounded you and felt so familiar. You loved it, craved it. The grains felt good and if you squinted, you could almost avoid the slight needling of your feet as they started to relax and unwind.

"You're the water," he murmured to you quietly, his voice lower than the ocean's bustle around you. "I know I'm the clouds. But you're the ocean. You need it. I've always known that about you. I see you some mornings down here, in the waves if I run late. I never see a crease or concern on your features, you're just one with the water. It's pretty sexy, actually."

You wished he'd stop talking because as he adjusted his hold on you, leaving one hand on your hip, the other arm wrapping around your shoulders, you only reaffirmed how good you fit against him. "I love that," you admitted, taking his hand and he sighed again. He was right, though cold, this was your happy place. This is where you desired to be, in the water and the freedom and terror that came with it, how it could make you teeter so easily and push you out of your comfort zone. And he knew all about it.

Above you, Rooster smiled to himself. He was starting to really enjoy holding you close, learning the curves of your body, how you could find the perfect place to find calm in his arms. "Hey?"

"Hmm?"

"I had a really good time tonight. It... didn't feel forced or contrived. Why haven't you and I done this before?"

Because we didn't see each other this way before Natasha threw us together, you wanted to say. We can laugh, we can play and have fun, team against anyone and not think anything of it... but tonight has categorically changed our friendship because I can't go back to just being your friend, Rooster. I think it would be easier to lose you than find out you didn't want to be with me this way again.

You stayed silent, you had just tortured yourself with your inner monologue as it was. "You are absolutely shaking," Rooster said, softly, maybe now regretting his idea and his fat fucking mouth just a little. "I think it's time to get you out of the water."

"I'm okay," you lied as he rubbed your arms where he could see the goose pimples rise. He couldn't stop the shuddering even in his stranglehold.

"Out you get, kid."

You nodded thankfully. The adrenaline coursing through your veins was not enough to keep you warm and only caused you to tremble more. "Sorry," you said as he released you from his clutches and moved before he could say anything else.

And just like that, the moment passed.

Rooster sighed, watching you make your way to the beach. He knew he'd scared you. You knew he was opening his heart to you, and just like Natasha joked about your commitment fear, maybe it wasn't too far off the mark and that made him sad for all that you had missed and what you could miss out on. He began to follow you as you sat back near all the gear you'd removed, closing in on yourself. Rooster ran the last little while up the beach and retrieved his jacket, putting it over your shoulders. "You okay, kid? You're blue."

"Can't stop shaking," you could only reply and he swore he heard your teeth chatter. "But I'm okay."

"Come on, let's get you home," he tossed all the gear except the flowers into his jacket and tucked it under his arm then offered you his hand to help you up. He used a little more force, driving you into him and he wrapped you into his arms - he was very good at bringing you close and he knew, not once had you fought it. "I didn't want to scare you before. I'm sorry I was so forward."

You gave a little shrug. "Don't worry about it, Rooster. I'm just a big girl with big problems," you said simply.

"Do you think you know... why you don't want to get close to me?" he asked, almost not wanting to know the answer.

You looked up at him and he knew the kicker was coming. "You have I have very different daddy issues," you told him. "When my dad left, I thought he'd come back. For years I thought I could try and make him want us again... but my sister and I weren't enough and if he could leave us, who he was supposed to love so fucking easily, it doesn't give you much confidence as an adult. He picked another family over us, I have other siblings I don't even know. The shit sticks."

Holy shit, Rooster thought, his knuckles rubbing against your back. He paused and held you tightly. He didn't know that... hell, he did but certainly not to that deep an extent and maybe your issues were a little more deeply rooted than Natasha had alluded to. He certainly couldn't blame you for that.

"You mean something to me, and ruining anything with you would destroy me," you continued. "I appreciate our friendship and that comfort that brings me."

He nodded. It felt like a kiss-off, that was for sure. "I wasn't asking for the rest of our lives," he said quietly.

"I know," you pulled back, needing to be completely out of his reach. "But I just don't know what to tell you right now."

"And that is the end of our first fake date," Rooster said, hating to admit he was kind of relieved as you got back to your apartment. He followed you to the front door and wanted you to feel as safe as you could in his presence because you hadn't said it... but everything had changed, and he knew it too. He didn't expect the night to go like this, but he knew, like you... things couldn't be the same again now.

You gave him a gentle smile and his heart fluttered, he'd always loved your smile, but shit... it was his now. He left your heels neatly at the stoop. "I hope today wasn't a total bust for you. Now you know how good I am at ruining good things," you poked fun at yourself. "It's a wicked character trait."

He sighed, dropping his eyes. "Why would you think that being honest with me would ruin anything?" he had to ask, putting his hands in his pockets. "Don't you think I appreciate that more?"

"I dunno," you leaned back against the door as he looked back at you, chewing your lip and God, he wanted to be the one chewing that lip. Vulnerability to most people could be seen as a red flag but to him? You were telling him things that you'd never told anyone, and that was almost sacred and it would always mean more. He knew you trusted him, but made him uneasy that it wasn't with your heart. "Do you?"

He rolled his eyes, a faint grin on his face. "Yes. I do appreciate that more. I've learned more about you tonight than I have in the last 30 years, which is kind of awesome... and terrifying."

"Terrifying?" you repeated, a little disappointed as he stepped closer.

"If you think for one second that you scaring me is a bad thing, you are kidding yourself," of this he was certain. He wasn't scared to be out of his comfort zone with you.

You finally smiled and shook your head gently. "I had a wonderful time tonight. Thank you, Rooster. I owe you, big time."

"Don't be crazy. I drank top-shelf booze, ate more cake than I have eaten for years, and I got to spend my night with you. We'll call it even."

"Well, thank you. It really meant a lot. And it won't happen again, there are no weddings or other OTT celebrations in the foreseeable future."

"That's a shame," he laughed quietly.

There was a slight beat before your rationality kicked in. "Well, I should go in," you told him, pushing back off the door and reaching for your keys in your clutch. "I'm sure you've got an early morning."

"Class," he acknowledged.

You nodded. There would always be something. "Goodnight, Rooster," you said as you unlocked the door and took a step in before pausing. Rationality be damned. "Unless you wanna come in?" you called softly in the dead quiet of the night. You could see his brain working a million miles a moment.

This wasn't something you and Rooster did, you didn't hang out together this way, it was always in a group, always someone else to play the distraction. "Yeah, I really do," he admitted, standing before you. The air around you had changed and you swore it wasn't just you that noticed it. For the first time tonight, his nervousness was evident and he put his palm on your cool cheek. Licking his lips, he admitted, "I really wanna come in," he said quietly, resting his forehead against yours.

His eyes searched yours as you pushed the door open and your hand found his. He followed willingly, quietly kicking the front door closed as you led him down the small hallway to your living room. Low lit from the lamp you'd left on for your late arrival, Rooster was interested to check out your place. Quaint, but it was quintessentially you. Linen in neutral and blue, a stash of books on the coffee table. A home. "Do you want a drink?" you asked.

Erring on the side of caution, he responded 'water'. He was starting to cut it fine of being in a proper state for the following morning and while he could take his liquor, the last thing he wanted was a hangover in an F-18. You came back to him with a cool glass and he gave you a small smile of thanks. He tossed his suit jacket on the end of the couch, finally happy to be rid of the silly thing.

"Do you mind if I get changed? This dress is clogged with sand, it's wet and damp."

"Course not. Go make yourself comfy," he said with a small smile as he watched you walk away before he preoccupied himself with the endless photos on your wall. A tasteful aesthetic of beautiful white frames with a mix of colour and black and white photos stored in them, he felt the love and consideration you'd put into the curation of images. And holy shit, if it wasn't you on his Mom's hip. You were crying and she was trying to appease you in any way she could. He took the photo from the wall and you wandered back a few minutes later, hair down, oversized Lakers t-shirt and you saw what he stared at.

"Mom said I had just been told I couldn't get an ice cream from the ice cream truck," you filled him in. Rooster actually laughed.

"That's the cutest fucking thing I ever heard."

"And Carole was trying to tell me she could get me ice cream from your place even though my mom was saying no, but I didn't want it anyway because it didn't come from the ice cream man. Naturally."

"That's amazing. This is about the last photo I would have ever expected to have seen, you know?"

"You can have it if you want. I mean, I'm a screaming three-year-old, but your mom looks absolutely beautiful."

"Always," he said softly and put the photo back carefully on the wall. "You keep it, it gives me something to see when I am here."

You shrugged easily and took a seat on the couch. He took a hint and went to join you, taking a cool sip of water to regulate. This was just not how he saw the night going. Sure, he was a man, he had eyes in perfect working order. He wouldn't lie and say he hadn't memorised every curve of your body, your smile and that absolutely devastating self-deprecating wit but there were plenty of other distractions in his wake. But here you were, right before him. And you, at that moment, were perfect but he didn't know what you wanted from him and it ate him alive.

"What time is class tomorrow?"

"Eight," he replied.

You gently reached for his hand, avoiding his eyes and tracing over the callouses and his lifelines. "I'm sorry about before," you said finally. "I am really good at finding ways to make a night nosedive."

He shook his head, laying an arm against the length of the couch in hopes you'd shift just a little closer again. "No, fuck no. Please don't apologise."

"You know more about me tonight than most people know in a lifetime. I'm really not the sharing kind."

"That... I knew," he with a smile. "I kind of figured we were a bit alike that way anyway. But it gives me a little bit of hope. I'll weasel my way in," he said confidently. "You'll regret opening yourself up to me," he teased as you laughed heartily.

"Using my trauma against me," you fist-pumped and he was so relieved you could see the funny side to it as he scooted a little closer since you didn't. "Awesome."

"I promise I never would do that," he said sincerely. "I have enough baggage to take everyone in this damn town out."

"That's true," you agreed. "What a mess we are."

"You're not a mess. You have your reasons, just like I do," he let go of your hand and reached into his shirt, pulling out his dog tags. "These have been driving me mad all night. Think they're imprinted into my chest..."

"Can I see?" you asked as he shrugged and slipped it over his head, gently putting it over yours and letting the tags jangle across your heart. You picked it up and looked at the imprints of his name. "Bradley N. Bradshaw," you spoke. "What do you think your parents were thinking when they gave you more or less the same first and last names?"

He laughed loudly. "Bradley was my mom's dad's name," he explained. "And it was the 80's. I guess they thought it just sounded cool. They didn't think of what it might be like for me at 34."

You grinned, tracing the bumps of his ID. "I forgot what these felt like. Dad's, Grandpa's. Having them in my hands like they were a toy, and what they really stand for."

Rooster didn't speak. He understood what you meant without having to go into it.

"Roost?"

He hummed in reply.

"Have you thought about settling down?"

"I've thought about it," he shrugged simply. "I haven't really found anyone who I want to settle down with. Last thing I want is something that doesn't last. I want to feel like my parents did - I can hardly remember it... but the way Mom spoke about Dad after he died? That's something to strive for, you know? I know she was sick... but she really died of a broken heart in the end," he said quietly.

Holy shit... you thought.

"When I find the one, I'll know," he added, taking your hand back into his and this time, he avoided your gaze as he drew circles around the pads of your palm. "I'm sure of it." He was sure of it.

"And here I was thinking you loved being a bachelor and the notoriety of the Navy," you said, and he appreciated the teasing as he laughed, scratching his neck.

"I mean, yeah. There are some benefits to not settling," lifting his gaze back to you, he pondered again. "I'm not really that guy that falls quickly."

You nodded, you knew what that felt like and you knew he was growing weary of sharing hour, so you decided to make things more interesting. "I've asked Natasha this and was not remotely surprised with her response. But I'll ask you too because I know you wouldn't lie to me... What's the greater thrill: flying... or fucking, Rooster?"

Rooster chuckled quietly. "That is going directly for the jugular," you saw his lips move, but sounds didn't follow through. "I love flying," he looked up. "My fate is sealed, but the right person? Jesus, fucking the right person could make you wanna give it all up, you know?"

"No, I don't," you pressed, your brain trying to decipher his answer. "That's why I asked."

He smiled, a small tint of red creeping up to his cheeks. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"I think I like making you squirm," you said simply as dropped his eyes, coy all of a sudden.

"Oh, I get it now," he thought about it. "If it was life and death, I would, I can't believe I'm saying this... but I'd fly."

"Oh, my God," your jaw may have hit the floor. It just was not the response you were expecting but told you a lot about Rooster's priorities.

"As I said, if it was the right person..." he tried to over-correct himself as you bit back your grin, covering your mouth with your joined hands.

"I'm speechless," you continued to needle him.

"Okay, if this is the little game we want to play - " he announced, smacking the top of your hand.

Oh, fuck.

"My turn, then," he said straightening up and you panicked, and he grinned because he could see you were clearly panicking. "Why haven't you really settled? You could have found the guy that it could have all worked with. You're smart, fucking hilarious, beautiful. Now don't get me wrong... but for most guys, that's all they need. We're not overly complex creatures."

"Honestly?"

His hand that was in yours clamped down and was trapped in his strong grasp. "Honestly."

"I don't think I'm ever going to find what I'm looking for. I haven't found someone that can keep my attention for long enough."

He stayed silent, he wasn't convinced.

You grunted and continued. "I date. A lot. I am just not broadcasting how average these dudes are I'm dating. Why do I want to spend my time with someone with who I don't spark with?"

"Do you really have a problem with commitment?" he asked pointedly.

"No, I have a problem with assholes," you replied smartly. "You haven't settled down, do you have a problem with a commitment?" you threw back.

He rubbed his moustache and he considered his answer. "No, I'm content with not being ready to settle down yet."

"So, yeah. You kind of have a problem with commitment," you laughed as he nudged you.

"I realise I'm in my prime," he shrugged, giving his ego receiving a nice self-stroking. You didn't mind Rooster talking himself up, it was incredibly sexy, truth be told. He was generally pretty modest about all that kind of stuff and kept his business to himself but really, he wasn't completely unlike his friends and co-workers. He knew he good a good-looking dude, his voice could turn you inside out (you figured), he could command a presence fairly easily, and women were putty in his hands. It wasn't a lot of effort on his behalf.

Grinning widely, you snuck closer to him, sitting on your knees and he watched his hands fall to his thighs as you released yourself from his grasp. God, you loved making him writhe and he dared you to ask what you were thinking. "I'm not stupid, Rooster. I know you get a handful of numbers when we go out."

"How many of those girls do you think I call?" he asked, thoughtfully. He knew you were getting off on this, taking the focus off you and pinning it on him. He didn't mind, he knew you were enjoying this little game of cat and mouse, and you weren't really offended by any of his questions, so he couldn't be either.

"You tell me," you whispered.

He adjusted his posture and he took your chin in his palm, his thumb imprinting on your chin. God, you were right there, so close... desperate to be kissed. "I like the chase," his voice low. "But the chase isn't all that much a challenge much anymore," he admitted and his wrist started beeping. 4am. He needed to go. He silenced it. "Saved by the bell," he announced. "That's my alarm."

"And just when we were getting to the juicy bits," you sighed as he kept your gaze, a small smile on his face.

"We can continue this if you like. At a more respectable hour."

"No thank you," you said quickly and he chuckled quietly.

"I'm not surprised by that."

You smiled shyly. "Sorry."

"Fuck, you're so beautiful, do you know that?" he couldn't stop himself from saying. It just had to be said and put out there. Great, now it was done, he reasoned. You didn't break his gaze, you were daring him to make a move. He licked his lips and had to laugh. He'd already made the move. If you wanted him, he decided... the ball was in your court. Come and claim me, he wished.

"Roost?" you said again.

He raised an eyebrow in reply.

"Stay."

"No," he said, sitting forward. Fight for me.

You got to your feet and pushed him back against the couch, a small grunt bristling as you stepped between his wide legs. He reached for your hamstrings, his hands massaging against your bare skin as he raised his eyes to you. It was powerful and intimate and he didn't know if he trusted himself to be touching you like this.

"If you've got something to say... this would be the time to say it," his voice thick with desire, daring you.

"Stay," you repeated, your fingers coiling into his sun-kissed ringlets, giving them a gentle tug as he slowly licked his lips.

"Gonna need more than that," he told you, pulling you flush against him, helping you straddle him, his arms in a vice grip around you.

"Stay for me."

He bristled a laugh as you reached for a button on his shirt, dainty fingers making light work of the straining material over his chest. "Think I'm gonna just fuck you after all this?" he removed your hands, placing them back in your lap where he silently prayed you'd keep them because his strength was waning and if you tried really hard, you'd have him exactly where you wanted him. "You really wanna make this about a quick fuck and I just up and leave?" he shook his head. "I think you know by now I want a little more than that."

"What do you want, Rooster?" you asked, your fingers tracing his scars, finding one on his jaw you were particularly fond of and tracing it, feeling him tremor beneath you. "Tell me," you said reaching for the hem of your shirt and he knew he was going for martyrdom as he held your shirt down, whispering a curse. "You don't want me?" you asked, easing back just a little, shocked and a little more than embarrassed.

"More than anything. Can't you fuckin' see that?" he took your face in his palms and he could see your resolve crumble, breaking him as your eyes shone with tears. "That's why we gotta wait."

Your gaze dropped, you hadn't felt rejected like this in a long time. You didn't feel sexy, you didn't feel desired and you absolutely did not feel like he wanted you regardless of the apparent sincerity of his words.

"Listen to me," his voice raspy from alcohol and exhaustion. "Tonight, before tonight," he confided. "I've thought about taking you in every position my mind could imagine. But every one of them was crude and in my mind, pure fantasy. Why do you think I didn't even think about saying no to any of this tonight? All these years and all we have to show for us is a cheap fuck? I got a little more respect for you than that, baby girl. I wanna turn you inside out," he whispered against your skin. "Why do you think I never made a move before? If you give me the green light, I will absolutely pray to you."

You had forgotten how to breathe and he kept your eyes locked to his.

"I want to worship you," he told you, repeating your name like a mantra. "Don't you get it?"

The blood was pumping so loud in your ears that you were finding it hard to focus. You were drawn out of your stupor as his alarm started buzzing on his wrist again. He was getting later.

"I gotta go," he murmured, his face so close. "Just think about it, okay?" he said quietly, kissing your temple.

"That will be the problem," you confided as he hummed.

"I hope so," he helped detangle yourself from him, letting you stand although your legs were absolutely jelly. He smiled at you finally, thoroughly wretched, and all due to him. "So many things I want to do to you," he breathed. "But now, I gotta go." He'd been short on time before, but nothing as bad as this made him feel.

"I'm not asking you to stay again," you threatened pathetically, and he heard the lies as clearly as you did.

He nodded. But he couldn't and he knew he didn't have to explain his duty... because of anyone who knew him, you understood this most. "See me out?" he asked.

"Okay," you murmured, following him by the hand down the hallway. You unlocked the door, and he pushed it closed again, leaving his palm and weight against it. You raised a surprised eyebrow.

"I just can't - " he closed his eyes, dropping everything he was holding and grasping your face tenderly between his calloused palms. "Please think about this."

"And if I fuck it up?" you asked, scared as reality started to kick in.

"What if I do?" he challenged. "Do we not owe it to ourselves to find out?"

You nodded, almost pained, pressing your hands to his chest because you needed the last few touches before he left you. "Yes, we do," and with that, his lips were on yours. Soft, unobtrusive, it felt like you'd been kissing him your whole life. Familiar and right, you didn't realise how long you'd been waiting for this. He was such a good kisser, and there was no going back now. The words were out there... his kiss had tainted you.

His hands left your face, tangling into your hair, it felt incredible. He smiled against your lips and lightly pulled back. "You only needed to say yes," he told you, holding your face, his warm hazel eyes dancing and he kissed you again, a little rougher this time, his large hands tangling into your hair, tugging at strands as they moved to your back, dangerously close to your ass. "I'm holding back so bad right now, because the second I give in, I will stay."

"Can't you call in?" you asked hopefully, reaching for his lips again, your hands drifting to his hips and his head fell back with a quiet sigh. He pleaded for your hands anywhere further north.

"If I don't front up today... every single person we know will know exactly where I am... and why," he said, voice laced in mirth.

You told him softly, "I will make it worth your while."

He groaned loudly, his body already ready and willing, pressed unyielding against you. "I believe you," he breathed. "The idea of being with you will be all I'll be able to think about today. God damn," he hissed, his alarm going off again. "Can I see you later?"

"I think that's a good idea."

He gave a small smile, pushing some hair from your eyes. "Good morning, fake girlfriend," he kissed you gently again, let go of you to collect his gear at your feet and forced himself into opening the door, stepping over the threshold purposefully. He leaned back and kissed you once more. "I'll call you later," he breathed, trying to gather some resolve.

"Tonight?"

He nodded. "Tonight."

"Okay. Good morning, fake boyfriend." But now... there was nothing fake about it.

"Oh, before I forget," Rooster pointed at you. You raised an eyebrow, leaning against the doorframe, the adrenaline of the evening waning as he started to wander away. "What are you doing the last Saturday of next month?"

You outwardly shrugged. At this point you didn't know how today would even pan out as he wandered back to you, lips painfully close to yours, his arms slipping around your waist again and you didn't want him to let go. "I dunno. Why?"

"I got a wedding invite through the week," he smiled kindly and you bit back a laugh. "Thought maybe you'd like to go with me..."

"Think you can keep this fake dating thing going until then?" you asked, caressing his cheek.

"I'm pretty confident we may not be fake dating then..." he said quietly, kissing you just one more time.

"Ballsy of you to assume."

He nodded. "Yep," his eyebrow quirked.

"Do you have to wear your dress uniform?"

"Yes," he sighed, recalling your first conversation.

"Damn. This suit is really good," you playfully teased him, knowing his dress uniform would likely bring you to your knees. White or blue, you didn't care. It would be utter carnage.

"I don't even think a dry cleaner would bring this back to its original glory," he admitted with a chuckle.

"Shame."

"Jesus Christ, I want to stay. Please tell me to leave," his eyes fluttered closed.

You smiled as he took a wide step back. "You'd better go."

He nodded, thankful for your push. "I'll see you later," he said and forcibly turned away, his feet taking him away from you and when he was out of your view, you felt the weight of his dog tags on your chest.

"Oh, shit."

masterlist.

A/N: Want to learn more about these crazy kids? Here we go!

The Relationship Experience - prologue

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tongue-like-a-razor · 2 years

Text

Faking It | Part II

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x F!Reader

You guys, I can't believe how much the first part of this story blew up!! Whaaat? I truly was not expecting that! Ya'll are amazing, thank you so much! Hope you enjoy part 2. Caution: I adore a good slow burn.

Summary: Fake dating your friend, Bradley Bradshaw - what could possibly go wrong? Your sister is getting married and you need a date. You enlist Bradley's help and the rest is history.

CW: Shirtless Rooster? Twice? I think that's it.. oh and yes, I will be shamelessly exploiting the one bed trope. Also: swearing. But I probably had you at shirtless Rooster, amirite?

Start from the beginning: Part I

“Steven is,” Bradley pauses, trying to think of an appropriate word, “underwhelming.”

You snort as the two of you make your way out of the restaurant. You feel Bradley’s eyes on you, waiting for you to expand on the subject, but you have no interest in reminiscing about the shittiest relationship you’ve ever been in, so you just hop down the steps and pick up your pace as you take the little path toward the chalets on the water.

“Did you date for long?” he asks, taking bigger strides to catch up with you.

“Long enough,” you respond.

Bradley purses his lips. “I see we’re in a talking mood.”

“I just want to get this long weekend over with,” you grumble.

He nods, sticking his hands into his pockets.

You make it all the way to your chalet in silence. Bradley opens the door and gestures for you to go inside. You walk in and flick on the light and your heart drops into your stomach as you stare at the one bed in the middle of the room. Behind you, Bradley slowly closes the door. You look back to see him glancing between you and the bed.

Your eyes meet and you’re pretty sure you know exactly what he’s thinking: that he didn’t sign up for this shit. “We forgot to get our bags from the car,” you say, as if you’ve hardly noticed the elephant in the room.

“I’ll go grab them,” he says, also choosing to ignore the glaring complication in your, thus far, flawless scheme.

He leaves and you turn to glare at the bed as though it’s a cruel joke and you have no sense of humor. You wonder why the idea of sleeping in the same bed with Bradley is distressing you enough to make you this uncomfortable. You’ve shared beds with friends before.

You persistently overlook the memory of Bradley’s hand on your back and the subsequent butterflies assailing your stomach. Those butterflies could have easily been attributed to surprise and you don’t plan on hosting them again anytime soon. Certainly not in Bradley’s presence. You just barely got the guy to agree to entertain a fake relationship, there is no way he’d ever consider something real with you. Besides, you don’t like him like that.

Bradley returns with your bags. He drops them on the floor near the door and quickly says, “I’ll take the couch.”

You look over at the two-seater near the door skeptically. “You won’t fit on that,” you say.

“I’ll make it work,” he says, digging into his bag for a toothbrush.

You imagine Bradley scrunched up on the tiny sofa and wince. “I’ll take the couch,” you say.

Bradley straightens his back and gives you an unwavering look. “No deal,” he responds. He shrugs off his Hawaiian shirt and walks past you toward the bathroom.

You change into your pajama shorts and top while Bradley brushes his teeth and gets ready for bed. He walks out of the bathroom and pulls off his tank top, tossing it into his bag as he heads for the couch. You stare at his bare back for a split second before tearing your gaze away and biting into your bottom lip as the image of his back muscles engrains itself into your memory for all of time.

You let out a shallow breath, reaching into your bag for your face wash, and then you practically run into the bathroom, doing your best not to watch Bradley remove his pants before sitting down onto the couch.

You brush your teeth while wondering why you’re all of a sudden possibly attracted to Bradley Bradshaw. Sure, the guy is hot. But you’ve never seen him as anything more than a friend – a slightly annoying one, at that. On the other hand, you’ve also never seen him shirtless until two minutes ago, and that changes things. Sort of. You would never have asked Bradley to pretend to be your boyfriend had you had feelings for him.

You spit out the toothpaste, your mind swarming as you try to rationalize Bradley’s unforeseen sex appeal. It’s fine, really. So, you find him moderately good-looking. You’re only human. And this is all temporary, probably prompted by your dedication to the role of being Bradley Bradshaw’s girlfriend. Meanwhile, the image of Bradley’s rippling back muscles hijacks each and every one of your thoughts.

You walk out of the bathroom and quickly slip into the bed, paranoid that Bradley might sense something off about your behavior. The faster you fall asleep, the faster all of this will be over. You close your eyes.

“Hey, Y/N,” Bradley calls from the couch.

You turn your head to look over at him.

“Forget something?” he asks with his eyebrows raised.

“What?” you ask, your heart beating at the sound of his relaxed voice as he settles into the cushions of the couch. You’re not thinking about the thin blanket pulled over his chest or trying to imagine what’s underneath.

“The light?”

“Oh,” you say. “Right.”

“I’ll get it,” he says, lifting himself up. He stands, letting the blanket slip off to reveal his chiselled torso and black boxer briefs.

You hold your breath and avert your gaze as he walks over to the light switch, swallowing uneasily as your face heats up. “Thanks,” you say as he walks back to the couch in the darkness.

…

You wake up to find Bradley sleeping with one leg hanging right off the couch and the other bent in half and upright. The blanket has mostly slipped off to the floor save for a small corner that still covers his lower abdomen and hips. You cringe at the awkward position of his body, watching him sympathetically for a couple of moments. Then, you decide to grab the both of you some coffee and breakfast.

You change quickly and head out without waking him. Returning with two bagels and two coffees, you struggle to hold everything in one hand as you attempt to open the door. Before you can get a proper grip on the handle, you hear music coming from the other side of the chalet. You walk around the porch to see Bradley lounging in one of the chairs on the deck, looking out onto the water.

He turns to look at you and smiles. “Wondered where you went,” he says.

You return his smile. “Brought you a coffee,” you say, handing him a cup.

“Well, aren’t you just the perfect girlfriend?” he says, smirking. He nods at the other lounge chair. “Join me.”

You sit down after handing Bradley his bagel and start to unwrap yours.

“Hand me your coffee for a sec,” he says.

You narrow your eyes at him. “Why?” you ask, slowly extending your arm out so he can lift the cup out of your hand.

Bradley takes the cup, then reaches over and grabs the edge of your lounge chair, pulling it toward him. You let out a startled yelp and he chuckles. “You were too far,” he says.

You glance over his face, laughing uneasily, before returning your attention to the bagel in your hand. “How did you sleep?” you ask.

“Not bad.”

You scoff. “Yeah, right. You looked so uncomfortable this morning.”

He shrugs. “It was fine.”

You look out at the glassy water and sigh. “Just a couple more days,” you say. “Bachelorette tonight, wedding tomorrow. And then home after brunch the next day.”

Bradley nods. “Easy.”

You give him a skeptical look. “At least it’s beautiful here,” you muse, scanning the cliffside across the lake.

Bradley looks over at you, squinting his eyes because the sun is coming up right over your head. “It is,” he agrees.

You take a sip of your coffee to hide the flush in your face when his gaze lingers on you for a little longer than usual. “My sister said you’re invited to the Bachelor party. Are you going to go?”

He shrugs. “Why not?”

You smile at him gratefully. “Thank you for doing this,” you say.

He leans back in his lounge chair and closes his eyes. “My pleasure.”

You chuckle. “My offer still stands. Anything you want, Bradshaw,” you say. “Feel free to get creative.”

He peeks up at you with one eye, smirking. “Careful what you wish for.”

…

You spend the day swimming and sunbathing with Bradley, whose sculpted physique you try to ignore despite his numerous trips into and out of the water. It’s late afternoon and almost time for the two of you to head back to your chalet and get ready for the evening out. Bradley takes one last dip and, upon emerging from the lake a glistening spectacle of a man, starts brushing his hand through his hair to shake out the water. He makes his way toward you and you bring your hand up to your forehead and furrow your brow as though you’re thoroughly focused on the book in your lap when, in reality, you’ve been reading the same sentence for the past twenty minutes and you still don’t have a clue what the fuck it says.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see him bend down to grab his towel from the chair. He starts drying his face and hair, completely disregarding his dripping torso.

“You’re getting water on my book, Bradshaw,” you say, not looking up at him.

He stops wiping the back of his neck and looks over at you. Then, he nudges your knee with his leg and you flinch as his soaking swim shorts brush against your thigh.

“Bradley!” you scream, leaping out of your seat.

He laughs. “Aww, c’mon, Y/N,” he calls after you as you back away. He extends his arms out. “You look like you need a hug.”

“Bradley, I spent the last half an hour drying off! Stay away!” you yelp as he chases after you through the sand.

You stop short at the edge of the water, holding your arm out as he nears you slowly, a mischievous smirk on his face. You shake your head at him threateningly and, by chance, notice movement to your right. You glance over to the row of chalets near the beach and see your mother and aunt having tea on their balcony a few hundred yards away. Your cries must have attracted their attention because they are both looking in your direction.

Bradley follows your gaze and then looks back at you sheepishly. He shrugs and you know exactly what he’s thinking without him having to say a word. You have an audience now, so you have to hug him. He’s practically dry at this point and, were you actually his girlfriend, there would be no reason for you not to.

You step forward tentatively and his smile falters slightly as he watches you approach. The slight breeze coming off the water that covers your skin in goosebumps makes you suddenly painfully aware that you’re wearing the tiniest bikini known to man. You shiver slightly, biting your bottom lip when the two of you meet halfway and, for some reason, you’re distinctly conscious of all the spit in your mouth, gulping it down with much more effort than swallowing spit should require.

Bradley lifts his arm, putting his hand behind your shoulder to gently pull you closer. You bring your arms in – partly because you need a barrier between your bodies that’s thicker than the fabric of your bathing suit, partly because you’re cold as fuck – and you lean into his chest cautiously. Bradley wraps his other arm around your back and rests his chin on top of your head as you lay your cheek over his collarbone.

You endeavor to steady your breathing as your heart runs a marathon inside your ribcage, while Bradley’s soft skin warms your body.

“You’re not cold,” you mutter into his shoulder.

“Why would I be cold?” Bradley chuckles.

“You were wet,” you say.

“Are you cold?” he asks, starting to run his hand up and down your arm before you even respond.

You nod into his neck and he tightens his arms around your body. You sink into him slightly, relishing in his warmth, before finally pulling away.

Bradley gives you a tight smile and then turns to walk back to your beach chairs and collect your things. You let out a shaky sigh and then look up to your mother’s balcony. She’s still watching you, so you lift your hand to give her a small wave.

Your aunt enthusiastically waves back.

Read Part 3

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its-the-pilot · 7 months

Text

Waves | Rooster x Reader

| Waves Masterlist | Masterlist |

My first Top Gun fic, please be nice and enjoy!

Summary: Fourteen years after leaving without saying goodbye, Bradley Bradshaw comes back into your life. (Mav's niece!reader)

Warnings: swearing, adult banter

Length: 2k words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Working on this as a series, let me know what you think and if you want to see more!

Message or comment to join the taglist!

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Chapter One

“Bradshaw, as I live and breathe.”

Bradley immediately recognized the voice behind him without needing to turn around. He shook his head before downing the shot of bourbon in his hand and throwing his next dart, scoring 13. He’d never claimed to be good, but the unwelcome distraction didn’t help. “Hangman. You look… good,” he replied flatly, turning to face his fellow aviator.

Both men were wearing their service whites, customary for the mixer held for TOP GUN students the night before beginning training. “Well, I am good, Rooster. I'm very good. In fact, I am too good to be true,” Hangman gave his usual smirk as he picked up Rooster’s last dart from the table and threw it, hitting the bullseye without even looking. “Didn’t think they let old timers in.”

They had met a few years earlier in flight school, and they instantly had a rivalry of sorts. Bradley had been several years older than the rest of the pilots in the program, due to not being able to attend the Naval Academy like he wanted. It took him years longer than it should have to become an aviator, and there was a bit of a chip on his shoulder because of it. Hangman, cocksure as ever, had instantly picked up on that weakness and exploited it to the best of his ability, pointing it out every chance he got. Some things never changed.

“Didn’t think they let assholes in either, but here you are,” Rooster shot back, taking a long pull from the beer on the table beside him before moving to gather his darts off the board.

The younger man chuckled, the insult seeming to roll off him like water off a duck’s back. “C’mon now, Rooster, we’re old buddies! Some older than others,” He smirked, sneaking in another jab as he patted him on the back. “Don’t take it so personal.” Hangman did a quick once over of the bar, his grin still firmly affixed to his face as he noted the number of women in attendance for the evening. “Plenty of delectable dessert options tonight, why are you holed up over here all by your lonesome?”

“I’m here to fly, not fuck my way through Coronado.”

A boisterous laugh escaped the tall blonde’s mouth. “Someone doesn’t know how to take advantage of a situation when it presents itself. Your callsign really is fitting.” Straightening his uniform, Hangman’s eyes locked on to a pretty woman approaching the bar. “If you can’t get laid in Whites, you just don’t know what you’re doing. Watch and learn, Rooster.”

Bradley rolled his eyes and turned back to his dart game, draining his beer as Hangman walked away. As fun as it might be, he had no desire to watch him make a fool of himself in front of an entire bar with his cocky attitude.

-------------------------

You recited the drink order for your table a few times in your head as you walked up to the bar, raising your hand to get the bartender’s attention. Your coworkers Kendra and Hazel had wanted to come out tonight, knowing that the new crop of TOP GUN candidates would be here, dressed to the nines. You hadn’t been interested but they wore you down, telling you they would pay for your drinks if you just kept them company for a few hours. You secretly hoped it wouldn't take them long to find a couple guys to take home, so you could get on with your uneventful evening of laundry and prepping for work.

“3 beers, 3 vodka shots,” you ordered, passing a $5 tip across the bar. Sliding onto a barstool as you waited, you made a cursory glance around the bar and groaned to yourself, shaking your head. You couldn’t understand what the appeal was, most aviators had more balls than brains and were just looking for a quick lay.

It only took a minute of waiting for your drinks before you felt a warm, solid presence accompanied by a pair of hands resting on the bar top on either side of you, covered in white sleeves. “Not interested,” you said in a sing-songy voice, not even needing to look up to know it was a new TOP GUN aviator standing with his chest pressed gently against your back.

“Not even gonna give me a chance?” He asked, his southern drawl coming out as he leaned close to your ear.

You turned as much as you were able with his body so close and gave him a look, your eyebrow raised. He was handsome, tall and blonde, with striking green eyes, but his uniform was enough to turn you off. “Nope. I don’t date aviators.” Lord knew you had a lifetime’s worth of experience with them.

Your uncle Pete “Maverick” Mitchell had raised you from the time you were eight years old, after your parents died in a car accident. Growing up around Navy pilots gave you an aversion to them, and in your line of work, that was more helpful than you could imagine. You worked with aviators day in and day out in your job as an Aerospace Psychologist, and getting personally invested with the pilots would have consequences.

He chuckled, leaning back only slightly to allow your movement as his eyes traveled over your body. You wore a cabernet colored maxi dress with wedge sandals tied to your feet with white ribbons, like pointe shoes, and you had never felt more exposed than you did right then as he licked his lips, looking at you like prey. “You’re in the wrong place then, darlin’. We’re all aviators around here.”

“Well aware,” you sighed, turning back to the bar and waiting for your drinks. When the bartender approached and set your drinks down, you smiled warmly at her. “Thank you, Penny.”

The older woman grinned back, always happy to see you. She’d known you most of your life, though she was in and out of it at the will of your uncle, a typical flyboy incapable of settling down. You would never understand why she kept coming back to him after he broke her heart so many times. “Who’s your friend?” she asked, looking him over briefly. Penny knew how you felt about Navy guys, but she enjoyed teasing you.

“Not my--”

“Lieutenant Jake Seresin, ma’am. Callsign Hangman.” He offered his most charming smile as he cut you off and lifted his right hand from the bar to offer it to Penny.

You immediately took the opportunity to duck under his arm, grabbing the drinks on the bar in front of you. Penny laughed as Jake watched you slide away from him and head back to the table with your coworkers. “Better behave, she’s the owner,” you called back, your hands full of glasses.

“A pleasure, Lieutenant,” she took his hand and shook it before wiping down the bar where your drinks had just been. His eyes followed you across the bar, and she snapped the back of his hand with the towel. “You won’t wear her down. She’s got a million reasons not to go anywhere near Navy guys. There’s plenty of other fish in the sea.”

When you got back to your table, you snuck a glance back toward the bar, watching Penny give Jake what she was sure was a warning about you. He didn’t look phased though, and within minutes he had moved on to another girl a few seats away at the bar, repeating the same move he had done with you.

“Predictable,” you muttered, rolling your eyes as your coworkers chatted, rating the various aviators in the bar. You largely ignored them as you took a long drink from your beer, looking out the window at the sun setting over the ocean when you heard the tinkle of piano keys interrupting your thoughts. The old upright in the bar hadn’t been played in as long as you could remember, usually the only time you heard it at all was when someone got too drunk and fell into it.

From your seat you could only see the back of the man playing, but you could tell he was an aviator. Dressed in his service whites, his broad shoulders were pulled back with perfect posture as he tapped away at the keys, getting the feel for the instrument before he started playing an all too familiar song.

“You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain, Too much love drives a man insane…”

The sound of his voice made your stomach flip as if you were in a F/A-18. “No fucking way…” you breathed, not taking your eyes off of the back of the man’s head as he played.

“What?” Kendra asked, stopping her conversation with Hazel to turn in the direction of the piano player, then back to you, confused as to your reaction.

You didn’t answer as you stood, your steps cautious as you made your way across the bar in his direction. It couldn’t be. It had been nearly fifteen years since you last heard from him, the night he left for the last time.

Without saying goodbye.

“Jesus, Bradshaw! Not this song again! Is it the only one you know?” Hangman complained, not far from the piano and chatting up what was probably his fourth girl of the evening. Hearing his name was all the confirmation you needed.

Bradley wasn’t deterred by Hangman’s whining, instead he just continued singing, the bar joining in. He had always been good at being the center of attention when he wanted to be.

“You broke my will, but what a thrill, Goodness gracious, great balls of fire!”

Moving closer, you slipped into his line of sight without a word, a combination of emotions you didn’t understand bubbling up inside of you. He looked just like his father from the pictures you had seen, but at the same time he was still the teenager you had known so long ago.

“I laughed at love ‘cause I thought it was funny, You came along and…”

Looking up, his voice trailed off and his fingers faltered on the keys, making a sour note as he made eye contact with you. There was a long, awkward moment of silence as the entire bar watched on, curious as to what was happening.

He couldn't believe you were standing in front of him. The last place he had expected to find you was anywhere near anything having to do with the Navy, even if it was just a bar. And now here you were, staring at him as if you were seeing a ghost. Though he supposed he didn't look too much different. “You look good, Dimples.”

Your breath hitched in your throat at the nickname, and before you knew what you were doing, your hand reached out and slapped him across the face as hard as you could. The same hand flew to cover your mouth as you gasped at the realization of what you did. He didn’t immediately turn his head back to face you, and it made you feel even more nauseous.

It was so quiet a pin could drop. Embarrassment flooded over you and your eyes moved around the bar frantically before landing back on Bradley. When you realized his eyes were still on you, a sob only muffled by your hand escaped before you turned and ran out the back doors to the beach, barely stopping to get your purse and tell your friends you were going home on your way out.

There was no way this wouldn't be the talk of North Island tomorrow.

It remained silent until the door to the deck slammed shut behind you, then people started whispering amongst themselves, stealing glances at Bradley. Hangman had a smug grin on his lips as he stepped up behind his fellow aviator, clapping a hand on his shoulder as he leaned down to speak quietly.

“Damn, Rooster. I thought I was the only one who could earn that level of ire from women. Kinda hot, right?”

He shoved Jake’s hand away and stood, grabbing his cover off the top of the piano before heading toward the door you had exited from. “Fuck off, Bagman,” he snapped, hoping you hadn’t gotten too far.

Chapter Two

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x oc #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw angst #bradley bradshaw fluff #bradley bradshaw fic #top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #top gun fic

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crinkled-emotions · 11 months

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(Part 3 of the Fixin’ to Break Verse)

Bradley and Dee have a moment, Dee breaks through some walls, and there’s a birthday party. Bradley’s feeling the need to run.

#Top Gun: Maverick #Top Gun Maverick #TGM #Bradley Rooster Bradshaw #Bradley Bradshaw #Rooster #Callsign: Rooster #rooster x female oc #fixin to break verse

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topgun-imagines · 9 months

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No Worse Pain

Requested: yes

Summary: Bradley has been extremely stressed at work lately. You don’t want to add to that by telling him about the pain you’re in.

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: periods, cramps, pain.

Pairings: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x fem!reader

Stupid fucking period cramps. In your entire life, you couldn’t remember another time when you wished for the pain to dissipate this badly. You felt like sobbing. For the past three hours, you had been curled up on the couch, hands clutching your lower waist desperately. You hadn’t had period cramps this bad for years. While you weren’t exactly sure what caused the pain to be this intense, you were silently praying that it would disappear soon.

Another wave of pain rolled through you, causing you to curl up even further and hiss quietly. Normally, Bradley would be curled up right behind you. Only, this week, he was conveniently so busy at work that even as the clock struck 11:00 pm, he was still nowhere close to coming home. So, you were left to find a way to deal with the cramps yourself.

However, nothing was working. You had taken painkillers and had a hot water bottle pressed against your lower stomach. And yet you still couldn’t find any relief. There was a random show playing in the background, but you couldn’t focus enough to make sense of it. You were so out of it that you didn’t even hear the crunch of your finance’s tires as he pulled into the driveway. Nor did you hear the door open with a loud creak.

It felt as if there was a 100-pound weight on his shoulders as Bradley stepped through the door and into your shared home. He hated the fact that he was only coming home to you this late at night. Usually, he was home in time for the two of you to share dinner. Lately, however, he had been coming home later and later. Over the past few weeks, Bradley’s workload had increased tenfold. He had stacks upon stacks of paperwork, plus training, and he was up for a new promotion.

The added stress had put a small strain on your relationship. A few arguments had been caused by Bradley’s newly added stress. However, they had been small and had quickly blown over. Now, as he kicked his heavy boots off and dropped his backpack onto the floor, all he wanted was to be with you.

He walked around the corner, ready to be greeted with the sight of you with your hair tossed up in a messy bun, pyjamas on and binging some new show that he had never heard of. But what he saw had him freezing for a second. The show was playing, just like how he had imagined, but you were balled up on the couch, whimpering quietly and turned away from the TV.

“Honey?” The second you heard his voice you were trying to hide the fact that you were in pain. With everything that Bradley had going on at work, you didn’t want to add more to his load. He immediately rushed forward and crouched down beside you. “Is everything okay?” The soothing feeling of his hand gently caressing your side had you wanting to burst into tears. Your emotions really were a wreck right now.

After taking a moment to compose yourself, you rolled over with what you hoped was a reassuring smile. “All good, baby. How was your day?” You silently pleaded that changing the topic would work. He hesitated for a moment, searching your face for any sign of pain before he relented.

“It was alright. Stressful as usual,” Somehow, that only made you feel worse. Knowing that Bradley had such a terrible day, the thought of him having to come home, expecting to relax, and having to deal with your pain instead made you feel uneasy. He noticed you wince when you shifted, your hand grasping your lower stomach. “Are you sure everything’s okay?”

Regardless of the pain, you plastered a smile on your face. Bradley seemed to accept your single nod and dropped the subject. Wordlessly, you stood from the couch and made your way to the bedroom, Bradley hot on your heels.

Getting ready for bed was a hard task when you were trying to mask how much pain you were in. You could tell that Bradley was still suspicious, but you were grateful that he didn’t say anything. You disappeared into the bathroom, popping a few more painkillers into your mouth and finished your business.

Bradley was sitting on the bed when you returned. You could only smile at him, kissing his cheek as you climbed into bed. The soft cry that escaped you as you sat down had Bradley’s head snapping over to you. He cooed softly as he wrapped his arms around you and held you against his chest. You began crying softly, hating the fact that you were putting additional stress on your fiance. “Honey, it’s okay.” He attempted to soothe you quietly, but your tears only fell harder.

“Darlin’, please,” Your fiance pleaded quietly, asking, begging you to tell him what was hurting you. “Just let me in.” His forehead knocked against yours and you could feel the love and sincerity rolling off him in waves. He wanted you to open up to him. He wanted you to share that with him. So you nodded.

You took in a breath and began explaining yourself. “I got my period this morning. You were already at work,” You noted when you saw that Bradley was confused. “Everything was fine until this evening. Then I got really bad cramps and nothing I did worked. It really hurts.” You whimpered quietly. Sighing, your fiance hugged you tighter and ran his fingers through your hair gently.

Even though you had told him what was hurting you, he knew that there was something you were still holding back. Bradley simply held you, waiting for you to open up on your own. And when you spoke, Bradley was shocked at the words that came out of your mouth. “But even though it hurt that bad, the hardest part was not telling you.” Your head was resting on his chest and the room was so quiet that you could hear his heartbeat pick up at his words.

Given the promotion that he was up against, you really didn't want to draw his focus away from his work. You knew how much Bradley wanted this and you would never be able to forgive yourself if you were the reason that he didn’t get it.

It took your fiance a few seconds to form a response. “I’m sorry that you’re in pain, princess. Lay down, let me help you.” You obeyed, shuffling under the covers and letting Bradley maneuver you. He moved you until you were laying on your side with Bradley spooning you from behind. The feeling of his warm hands sitting on your lower stomach had you almost moaning in relief. Even though you had tried all night to dilute the pain, the second Bradley’s hand hit your skin, you felt a thousand times better.

There was a silent communication between the two of you as you both drifted off to sleep, wrapped in each other's arms. No matter how busy or stressed Bradley was, you could share anything with him. It didn’t matter how big or small the problem, he wanted to know.

a/n: Hope you all enjoy! Thank you for reading and requests are open :)

Tagging: @topguncultleader @soulmates8 @t0kyoreveng3rs @there-goes-thefighter @blueoorchid @atarmychick007 @alexxavicry @bradleybeachbabe @chaoticassidy @nyx2021 @aviatorobsessed @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @angelbabyange @oliviah-25 @cassiemitchell @classyunknownlover @shelbycillian @khaylin27 @bruher @lovelywiseprincess @sunsetsimpsblog @fandom-life-12 @emmza63 @cornishkat @iceman-kazansky @himbos-on-ice @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @wkndwlff @entertainmentgal8 @dakotakazansky @kmc1989 @shanimallina87 @memoriesat30 @sarahjoestewy-blog @ducks118 @marvelouslyme96 @linkpk88 @xoxabs88xox @abbymwall @eternallyvenus @rey26 @lt-spork @callsign-ember @tim-thefrog @zombi3wh0r3 @cheyrenee @nyctophilic0vitnir @labellapeaky @skylineskyler @irosemh

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ivyangels-blog · 2 years

Text

y/n *mavericks daughter*: i have some news. Rooster and I are engaged

mav: i wish you asked me first, Bradshaw

rooster:

rooster: mav, im sorry but you’re just not my type

#top gun #rooster top gun #rooster x reader #rooster x y/n #rooster x you #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x oc #bradley bradshaw x reader #pete maverick mitchell

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beyondthesefourwalls · 1 year

Text

Remember You Even When I Don't (3)

Summary: A training accident, the doctor had told him. A nasty one that led him here, laying in a hospital bed with a splitting headache and an inability to remember the woman sitting beside him. What he did know, though, was that you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and you felt important to him. That, as it turns out, would become an understatement.

Words: 4.7K

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw/Reader (no use of y/n, so can be read as unnamed oc)

Warnings: angst, hospitals, memory loss, language.

Notes: The response for this continues to blow me away. Thank you all so much! Hearing your thoughts about these two makes me so happy and is so encouraging to write a little bit faster. Please continue to comment and reblog, and my inbox is always open!

This was inspired by a one shot by the lovely @roosterforme and would not exist without her assistance. If you haven't read any of her stuff, please check out her masterlist - you won't be disappointed!

Part Two

_________

He dreamt of sparkling lights and cobblestone streets. When he roused consciousness, he thought he could smell pumpkin candles and freshly baked chocolate chip cookies.

He woke slowly, chasing after the smell and the visuals as they evaporated from his view. He blinked several times, adjusting to the fluorescent light and white walls of his hospital room.

“Well well well, look who decided to wake up.”

It took a moment for the words to register in his mind. He looked to his left, where he had grown accustomed to seeing you sitting, only you weren’t there this time. Instead, he saw someone he recognized very well, smirking at him like only she could.

“Sorry for keeping you waiting,” he grunted out as he adjusted himself on the bed and raised it up so he wasn’t lying down as far, making it easier to look at her.

“You look like shit,” she continued.

Bradley snorted. “Thanks, Phoenix. Appreciate that.”

The smirk on her face fell into a soft smile. She reached out and laid her hand on his, squeezing gently. “It’s good to see you, Rooster.”

“Yeah, it’s good to see you too,” he nodded, and he meant it. “How…long has it been?”

Like she usually did, Nat knew exactly what he meant, and he was grateful he didn’t have to explain. “For me? Five days. I hear it may be a little longer for you, though. Based on the date you told the doctor, it’s been six months since I was sent to Korea without you.”

“Five days? So…”

“I was in the air with you when you went down,” she confirmed. “We’ve been stationed here together for almost three years.”

“Lucky you,” he murmured as he rolled this new information over in his head. Learning that he was stationed in San Diego, Fightertown of all places, as part of a permanent detachment at Top Gun was a lot for him. The last place he remembered was D.C. But learning he had been with Phoenix here the whole time, for three years, brought another question to his mind. He took a glance around the room, even though he knew they were alone.

“We finally talked her into going home and taking a shower about an hour and a half ago. One of the guys might con her into taking a nap, too.”

The coffee cup from the day prior flashed in his mind again. “We?”

“Mhm,” She hummed, meeting his eyes again. “It’s not just you and me anymore, Bradshaw. We found ourselves a whole, big ass family here. Imagine that, huh?”

He could always count on Nat to never beat around the bush with him. He never knew how much he appreciated it until now, when he had never felt so out of the loop before.

“Anyone I know?”

She barked out a laugh, her eyes shining with something that looked like mischief. “Oh, Rooster. I don’t know that you’d even believe me if I told you.”

“That bad, huh?”

She was still laughing when she leant forward, speaking like she was sharing a secret with him. Bradley supposed that in a way, she was.

“What would you say if I told you Bagman has been here to visit you everyday?”

Bradley’s face scrunched up in disbelief, “Good joke.”

“I told you that you wouldn’t believe me,” she said, her voice very much taking on the I told you so tone that she was so good at. She picked her phone up from her lap, scrolling for a few seconds before handing it over to him. There was a picture displayed on the screen of a group of people all donning their traditional green flight suits with an F/A-18 in the background. And there, right in the middle with his signature smug grin, was Jake fucking Seresin, arm wrapped around Bradley’s own shoulders like it was completely normal to do so.

“Well I’ll be damned.”

“Tell me. What’s more shocking? Hangman being your best friend, or finding out you have a wife?”

She was teasing him, Bradley knew, trying to ease some of the obvious tension in the room. He looked at the picture again, trying to place names with faces. He recognized Payback and Coyote, and Harvard and Yale, but the rest were unfamiliar to him. He studied it for another moment, but no memories came with it. There was a flash of disappointment when he handed her phone back to her.

“Pretty even, I guess.”

Despite his words, they both knew it wasn’t really even. He had known Hangman for a decade and the rivalry had never really been more than that. But you, on the other hand…you were something Bradley never anticipated or thought he’d have. He’s still in shock at your existence, still something more than perplexed at how you made him feel even if he knew little more than your name.

“This is….a lot, Nat. I have a wife. A wife and a whole life I don’t remember.” It was the first time he had said it out loud. His voice cracked, and his eyes stung, but he knew she would never use it against him. “This is crazy.”

Her face was sympathetic now and she reached back out to hold his hand again. “You’ll get through it, Bradley. I know you will. We’ll all help you. Especially her.” She said it with such certainty that he almost believed her.

“Can you tell me about her?” he asked her tentatively, and Nat shrugged in response.

“It’s not my place to tell you your entire love story with her,” she said. Bradley couldn’t hide his disappointment.

“What I will tell you though,” she continued, and he perked up just the slightest bit, “is that you two are ridiculously happy. And you love one another more than I’ve seen two people be capable of loving one another, and my parents have been married for like 40 years. You, her, and Florence are the perfect little family and we all make fun of you for it on a regular basis but it’s just because we’re jealous.”

Her words made him feel better, but then he replayed them in his head and felt panic course through his body. The heart monitor beeped a little faster. “Florence? Who is Florence? Nat, do I have a kid?”

By the way she bursted out laughing, he assumed that no, he did not, or her sense of humor has seriously changed in the last four years that she would find his panic at the thought funny if it were true.

“No,” she snorted, “not as far as I’m aware. Florence is your cat. You call her Florry, most of the time.”

His sigh of relief was so deep that it hurt his still very broken ribs, but it was worth it. Waking up to a wife he didn’t remember was one thing. He didn’t know if he could handle forgetting a child on top of that. Hell, he could barely handle all of this as it was.

“I don’t remember her,” he started, and despite him stating the obvious, Nat was quiet as he worked out his thoughts. “But I feel like I know her. That’s…that’s crazy, right?”

“I don’t think so,” she shrugged, “You do know her. Better than anyone. Your mind may not remember her, but that doesn’t mean that you don’t.”

Bradley considered her words for a moment, feeling like he got punched right in his broken ribs.

“Yeah,” he croaked, “I feel like I do.”

Phoenix smiled at him sadly, giving him a moment to breathe before she started talking again. She spoke about the last four years of his career. He was stationed in D.C. when he was sent on a six week deployment to Belgium, only to be pulled out of that halfway through for a special mission out of Top Gun. It led to all of those that were called back to form a new unit with this as their homebase.

“The Dagger Squad?” he questioned with a snort. Natascha hit him gently in his arm, but he winced anyway just to mess with her as they’ve always done. “Ow.”

“Jokes on you, asshole. You were the first one to say it and it stuck.”

He groaned. “Of course I was.”

She talks him through how he was promoted in 2020, nearly a year after being stationed here. Lieutenant Commander Bradley Bradshaw, she had teased. She had since been promoted as well, but he got it before the rest of them. He felt a certain level of satisfaction in that. They had done additional missions together, deploying for mostly short stints when necessary, and had taught a few Top Gun classes of their own.

Their crew was close, like family. Some of them had been in the air with him when he went down days prior, while the others remained in the tower. They all searched for him and made sure he was found, unwilling and unable to leave him behind.

They had been here everyday since his accident, rotating out in shifts so that you were never alone, staying until the nurses kicked them out at the end of the night. Bob, one of the ones in the photo that Bradley didn’t recognize, had been down in the cafeteria getting you both food when he had woken up the previous morning. It warmed him, knowing you had people here for you when he had been unconscious. That there was someone making sure you ate and drank water and slept. It was important to him that you weren’t alone.

Coyote and Hangman had been the ones to drive you home this evening. You had agreed only if Phoenix stayed in case he woke up, so that he wasn’t alone.

“She thought you would appreciate seeing a face you recognized,” she explained, and the thought that you were that considerate nearly took his breath away. He did appreciate it, more than he thought. The two of them talked for a long time, but Bradley felt himself missing you. There was an ache in his chest that was getting harder to ignore. He found himself looking toward the door and at the clock near the window. The sun had gone down hours ago. When the nurse came in a little while ago to check on him, she had warned Nat that visiting hours were almost over.

“Everything alright?” Nat asked him, noticing how his gaze was wandering and he was taking longer pauses between responding to her. “Pain okay?”

There was an ever present ache in his head and his ribs hurt, but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle. It wasn’t what he was focused on right now.

You were upset when you had left the room earlier. He still wanted to know who you were talking to and what the doctor had said to you and to just know you. He was starting to get anxious that you weren’t coming back.

He didn’t like the thought. Your presence soothed something. Anytime you were in the room with him, he felt a little less outside of his own skin. You had said the day before that there was nowhere else you would be than beside him, so he had to believe you wouldn’t leave him alone tonight.

“Fine,” he muttered, deciding to keep the thoughts to himself, too embarrassed to ask after where you were and when you were coming back. He suspected that Nat saw right through him, but gracefully, she moved on. Even when another thirty minutes had passed and the nurse came in again, informing the two of them that visiting hours were over and she was hugging him goodbye as gently as she could, he didn’t say anything.

When the door closed behind her, he realized it was the first time he had been alone since he woke up in this bed the morning before. Being on his own had never bothered him before. He had always preferred solitude over anything else, yet this felt strangely empty. Lonely, even. Your face was there at the forefront of his mind. He found himself wondering what you were doing right now. If you had ended up taking that nap at home and if you were okay. His heart ached remembering the broken look in your eyes yesterday when he didn’t know who you were and how distraught you looked with the doctors and nurses earlier.

He wished he would have had the thought to ask Phoenix for your phone number. He had no idea where his own cell phone was, but the old corded phone in the hospital room could certainly dial out if he needed to reach you.

He wondered if this same sense of longing had happened so quickly the first time around, too.

He wasn’t sure how much time passed as he thought about you, but his ears picked up on hurried footsteps making their way to his door. They barely paused before it was thrown open, but grabbed before it could hit off the wall.

The tightness in his chest eased when he saw you. You paused in the doorway when you saw he was awake and looking at you.

You looked more frazzled than he had ever seen you, not that that was a lot, but it still unsettled him.

“Are you-”

“I’m so sorry,” you blurted, making your way into the room after you gently closed the door, almost as to make up for your brash opening of it. The notion almost made him smile. “I went home to take a shower so you could talk to Nat and I ended up falling asleep. I didn’t mean to be gone for this long.”

“It’s alright,” he assured you, but the frazzled look didn’t go away. Seeing it made him forget all about how distraught he almost was that you weren’t here. “Try and convince me differently all you want, but I bet an actual bed was a lot better than this chair. I’m glad you got some sleep.”

You gave him a small smile and it made him feel something akin to pride to be the cause of it.

The smile slipped after a moment. You twisted your ring on your finger, your eyes cautious. You looked small, and he didn’t like that. You cleared your throat before speaking.

“Your doctor, he uh, he told me I should give you some space. That I might be overwhelming for you? But I didn’t want you to be alone. That’s why I had Nat come, but non-family members can’t stay overnight so…”

A flash of anger hit them then. He had known when you walked back into his hospital room when the doctor had requested your presence outside that he had said something to you. He should have known after he had made the comment about you leaving the room during his consultation that it was something to do with that.

“He didn’t have a right to say that to you.”

“Bradley-“

“Just because I don’t remember you doesn’t mean you don’t exist,” he said, his voice firm, and he heard the breath you sucked in.

His tone softened with his next words, “And even if I don’t understand it, I want you here. I mean…as long as you still want to be?”

It didn’t occur to him, before, that maybe this was too much for you. He was your husband who had been in the hospital for a week who woke up not remembering who you were. Maybe you needed some space. But you were nodding your head before he could overthink it too much.

“I do. I told you, I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. But I want to do what’s going to be best for you more, okay? I know you don’t know me enough to trust me right now, but I need you to promise me that if it ever is too overwhelming for me to be here, you tell me, okay?”

That was the thing. He did trust you. It was a feeling deeply rooted in his bones that he could trust you with anything.

“I promise,” he said instead of telling you what he was really feeling. The emotions were too raw, too jumbled, and he hadn’t made sense of them yet.

“Alright,” you nodded. You finally made your way from where you had been standing at the end of his hospital bed over to the chair beside it. A pressure lifted off of him when you sat down.

Yes, he thought, that’s better.

“How was your visit with Phoenix?” you asked, kicking your tennis shoes off and curling your legs up underneath you. You were in another pair of black leggings and another oversized pullover, UPENN displayed across the front of the dark gray material. Your hair was down again, and he decided he liked how the color looked against your skin as you pushed it out of your eyes. You raised your eyebrows at him and he realized he must have been staring.

He cleared his throat, fighting off reddening cheeks. Damn.

“It was good,” he admitted. “She caught me up a lot; told me about being stationed out here and the squad we’re on. She kinda laid out the last four years of my career for me.”

“Congrats on your promotion,” you joked, and Bradley found himself letting out a surprised chuckle at your humor.

“Did she say anything specific? About the mission you were called for that got you stationed here?” you asked. Bradley shook his head.

“She didn’t go into many details. Why?” You let out a long, low breath, and Bradley felt his stomach knot. “Is there something else I should know about it?”

“Yes,” you nodded, “and it may not be easy for you to hear, but..well, it’s important. Kind of a big part of the last three years of your life.”

That could mean a lot of things. He tried to stamp down all the worst case scenarios that played around in his head and watched you fiddle with the phone in your hand. You paused, took a breath, and then handed it over to him. Your fingers brushed against his when you did and the spark it sent through him made him take a second to realize what it is he was looking at. His breath caught in his throat when he did.

Staring back at him was the two of you. You were both smiling, clearly happy, with you tucked into his side like you belonged there. On his other side, he had his arm thrown around the neck of someone he hadn’t seen in years. At least that he could remember. He couldn’t pinpoint what he was feeling. A decades worth of anger and bitterness, he supposed, but the underlying hurt and regret that he always tried to not acknowledge were there too. If he focused hard enough, there was even the smallest flicker of hope.

“I don’t understand,” he muttered, still staring at the picture.

“You asked me earlier who Pete was, when you saw the name on my coffee cup,” you reminded him, “not many people call him that, but I do.”

You went on to tell him an abridged version of what sounded like a mission report. Mav was their mission leader and he was his wingman. He got shot down trying to save him, and Bradley disobeyed direct orders to go find him, where he was then shot down trying to save him. It ended fine. They clearly made it out, with some assistance, and had taken a lot of time to work through things. They had completely rebuilt their relationship in the last three years and by the looks of them in this picture, it was hard not to believe you when you said they were stronger than ever.

“I know how badly he hurt you, and that hearing this might bring up those feelings,” you whispered, your voice sympathetic but not pitying, which was something he appreciated more than he could say, “but the two of you love each other so much. When the time came, you were ready to forgive him. It may be hard to believe, but I wouldn’t lie to you about this. I promise. He’s family. To both of us.”

“He’s been here?” Bradley brought himself to ask, and though he already knew the answer based on the sharpied evidence on a plastic coffee cup, the nod you gave him in response winded him.

“Everyday,” you confirmed.

Bradley nods slowly, processing your words.

“I don’t…know that I’m ready to see him,” he finally said.

“That’s okay,” you assured him immediately, “you don’t have to right now. But I didn’t want to keep it from you, okay? I don’t want to keep anything from you.”

He looked away from the phone he had been staring at to meet your eyes, and he knew that you were being sincere. Your eyes were earnest, your expression open, and he was blown away that anyone so beautiful would look at him like that. He let out a breath that was shakier than he would want to admit before he handed your phone back to you.

“Are you tired?” you asked him, and he shrugged his shoulders. He was, truthfully, but this was the longest conversation the two of you have had; he wasn’t ready for it to end.

“Tell me something else,” he said instead.

“What would you like to know?” you asked, clicking your phone off and setting it on the table near his bed.

“You,” he said instantly, not needing any time to think and not second guessing his honesty, “I want to know you. Us.”

Your smile was shy, and your cheeks bloomed again, drawing your bottom lip between your teeth as you nodded. His heart raced in his chest again. “Alright.”

______

Listening to your voice had quickly become one of his favorite things. The two of you talked for a long time that night, and he grasped onto every detail you gave him.

You were a few years younger than him. You worked in journalism, covering politics and policy, for the most part completely remote from your home here in San Diego. You grew up in Philadelphia (the Eagles sweatshirt was yours) and were the only child of only children. You weren’t overly close with your parents, but you didn’t seem bothered by it, either. You loved spicy food and sour beers, and things always got a little interesting when you indulged in too much white wine. You had adopted Florence, the adorable brown tabby that you proudly showed him pictures of, when you moved to DC all on your own, and Bradley was apparently the only man the cat tolerated.

The two of you hosted board game nights or dinner parties on a regular basis, and it had surprisingly only ended in a physical fight between him and Hangman once in the last three years.

The night nurse came in for her rounds and was surprised to see him still awake, but he refused additional pain medication when she offered it because he wasn’t ready for how they would inevitably put him to sleep.

He wanted to know everything about you.

“Tell me how we met?” He requested.

Your smile was soft, like you liked how the memory made you feel.

“We were both subjected to the ‘single guest with no date’ table at a wedding,” you revealed. Bradley wracked his brain and remembered a save the date he had sloppily stuck to his fridge in his DC apartment. He asked if that was the one you were referencing and your smile grew as you confirmed it.

“We met in Philadelphia?”

“We did,” you laughed, “which is incredibly ironic, considering we were both living in DC at the time.”

It sounded more like fate, but Bradley kept those thoughts to himself for now.

“Did I ask you to dance?” he asked, almost certain of the answer considering where they ended up years later, but to his surprise, you shook your head. His eyes widened. “You’re kidding.”

“I’m not,” you swore with a chuckle.

“I was at the same table with you and I didn’t even ask you to dance?”

You threw your head back with a full laugh, and Bradley was sure if they pulled the data from the monitor he was still hooked up to, it would show that his heart skipped a beat at the sight.

“The rest of the people at the table were admittedly not that nice, and when we realized that we weren’t that bad, we ended up escaping and sitting outside at one of the cocktail hour tables for the majority of the night.”

He wished he could remember what you looked like that night. He wondered what color dress you wore, and if you had your hair up or down, when he was apparently not dancing with you.

“That seems like a crime,” you flushed at the words he mumbled mostly to himself.

It was difficult for him to comprehend that he had someone in his life like you, but it wasn’t hard at all to see how he fell in love with you as quickly as he must have. You were beautiful outwardly, but he was seeing you were even more so inwardly, as well. You were funny and witty and kept him on his toes, and he was sure he hadn’t even scratched the surface of you yet.

The more he learned, the more infatuated he became.

It was nearing two in the morning when your yawning became more frequent amongst your conversation. Watching your face scrunch up every time it happened was adorable, and he wondered if you were as unwilling to go to sleep as he was. The bubble of storytelling you had found yourself in was warm and comforting, but he finally took pity when you started rubbing your eyes under your glasses. The urge to somehow take care of you was brewing inside of him. He wanted to be selfish, but he had kept you up long enough.

“We should get some sleep,” he murmured. Your hair fell in your eyes when you nodded and he found himself wanting to tuck it behind your ear for you.

“Are you in any pain?” you asked. You were worrying for him, despite how tired you obviously were. He had been shown more concern in the last 48 hours than he could remember getting in the last decade; his heart ached at the thought.

“It’s not so bad right now.”

“I can get the nurse.” You were already rising to do so, and before he could stop himself, he reached out to grab your arm. You froze from your position half raised out of the chair. Your wide eyes flickered down to his hand before meeting his again.

Bradley swallowed deeply, but didn’t let go. He couldn’t stop his thumb from gently rubbing your skin through the thick material of your sweatshirt.

“I’m okay,” he whispered, “promise.”

The breath you let out was shaky, but you nodded. Without disconnecting from him, you pulled your chair just the slightest bit closer to his bed with your other hand, but you didn’t move to sit down yet. Instead, you took a step closer and leaned down to press a gentle kiss against his forehead. Your scent invaded his senses and he suddenly felt dizzy again for a completely different reason. You lingered for a moment and he reveled in it.

“Thank you,” he didn’t quite know what he was thanking you for, but he needed to say it. His voice was thick all of a sudden, feeling overwhelmed with the influx of emotions he was feeling.

You just smiled at him, and he released the hold he had on your arm so you could settle back into the chair that had become your temporary residence for the last week.

“Goodnight, Bradley.”

-------

Notes: Things are starting to pick up with these two! The next part is when we really get into the fun stuff, I think :)

Tagging those who asked or interacted. I think I caught everyone, but I'm very new to this so apologies if I missed you! Please let me know if you'd like to be added or taken off this list :)

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#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x oc #bradley bradshaw #top gun fanfiction #tgm fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster fanfic #rooster x reader #Bradley bradshaw fic #alli writes #Bradley bradshaw x female reader

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honkytonk-hangman · 1 year

Text

What You Want

Summary: Rooster is aware that despite working together for a little over six months now, he doesn't really know you all that well. One late night walk to your car later, he thinks he'd like that to change.

Notes: just a little drabble for an idea i've been having for a while!!! let me know if you'd be interested in more! <3

Masterlist

“Wait! Hold the door!” a voice calls out, making Rooster jump, but he still manages to throw his arm out just in time, catching the elevator doors before they close. You come jogging into sight then, panting a little, your duffle bag hanging precariously from your shoulder as you hurry to reach him.

You thank him as you step inside, but do a small double-take when you realise that you recognise him. Rooster waves off your thanks, and shifts to one side so that he isn’t taking up so much space.

“I didn’t see you in there,” he says, jerking his thumb in the direction of the on-base gym. Granted, he knows the place was pretty damn big, and that there was a section reserved for women if they felt more comfortable there, but he’d really thought he’d be all alone at this time of night.

You look at him blankly for a second, before your eyes seem to travel over his attire, and realisation registers on your face.

“Oh! Ha, I didn’t see you either…” you tell him, just as the elevator at last closes its doors and begins its descent. “I don’t usually come so late,” you add after a moment, having hiked your bag higher on your shoulder. Rooster nods, but looks away from you as you seem to start nervously adjusting your workout shorts, too, pulling them lower from where they’ve clearly ridden up slightly.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he hears himself ask, keeping his eyes on the elevator panel ahead of him as it slowly counts down the floors. You’re quiet for a few seconds before humming softly and he can’t help but look back over at you at the almost sad ring in your voice.

“Something like that,” you reply with a small shrug, looking at your shoes.

“Everything alright?” he prods a little, sure now that you sounded down, but immediately feeling a little out of place for asking.

Sure, you’d been working together now for almost six months, and sure he’d met you once or twice before that, but if he’s honest, Rooster didn’t really know you that well outside of what he knows you can do in the sky. Up in the air he wouldn’t hesitate to trust you with his life, but on the ground, he wouldn’t even know what beer you drank at the hard Deck.

If you drank beer, at all, for that matter.

You shift uncomfortably for a moment, eyes dancing between his face and the floor before you give another little shrug and look away from him entirely, staring at metal doors ahead of you.

“I uh, told my boyfriend about being stationed here permanently now,” you begin, pausing to bite at your lip like you weren’t sure whether or not to keep going. There had been some back and forth in recent months over where Dagger squad would be stationed, but at last a few days ago the decision had been made to keep the squad on North Island.

“He broke up with me,” you finish, swallowing nervously, but shooting him a tight smile that Rooster does his best to return.

“I’m sorry…” he says, unsure if he should say more, or if it would even be welcomed. He hadn’t even known until just now that you actually had a boyfriend, but he finds that he likes that you’re choosing to confide in him. You shrug for a third time and shake your head.

“I don’t know. Things weren’t awful or anything, but they weren’t exactly great, either…” you chew on your lip again and scrunch up your nose briefly. “He never really liked me being away much.”

Rooster snorts at that.

“S’kinda part of the job description,” he says, receiving a wry smile from you.

“I know.”

Quiet pervades for a while until the elevator comes to a stop at last, and Rooster gestures for you to go ahead of him. You step out, but pause, waiting for him to join you again before you begin walking, and Rooster finds he likes that as well.

“Still, I’m sorry,” he offers sincerely, looking over at you as you let out a soft sigh. He’s almost embarrassed when you turn back to find him already looking at you, but you only smile sweetly.

“Thanks.” You say, beginning to pull a jangling set of keys out of your duffle bag. Rooster realises then that you must have driven here, and weren’t currently living on base, as he’d just assumed you were.

“Where are you parked?” he asks, gesturing to your keys when you look up at him.

“Oh, not too far, just over near the Services building,” you tell him, causing his brows to knit together. It wasn’t exactly far, but it wasn’t really near, either.

“I’ll walk you.” he says, making the decision out loud. You look back at him in what looks like surprise, already starting to shake your head.

“Oh, you don’t have to–”

“–I’d feel a lot better if I did,” he cuts you off, but speaks truthfully, and he’s glad when you don’t argue further, simply nodding as he now starts following your lead.

You both remain in comfortable quiet while you walk, and Rooster consciously takes note of how dark this particular path through the base really was, feeling glad that you’d let him walk you back, but at the same time unable to stop from overthinking his insistence on the matter.

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” he blurts all of a sudden, causing you to blink up at him blankly for a moment. “I didn’t really give you much of a choice about walking with you,” he explains, not unaware of why a woman might actually feel safer going alone than with a man she barely knew. You jerk then, as realisation floods your features, but let out a chuckle as you shake your head at him.

“No, no, it’s really okay!” you assure him. Rooster lets out a relieved breath. “I appreciate not having to walk by myself. I know I’m far safer on base than if I wasn’t, but you know…” you tell him, trailing off. “I’m sorry if you didn’t actually want to, but that’s your fault,” you add, chortling playfully. Rooster laughs too, your words catching him slightly off-guard, your joke and general cheek entirely unexpected to him.

“It’s a good thing I did want to, in that case,” he says, laughter still in his voice. You look up at him sweetly, and he notices for the first time how your eyes crinkle slightly in the corners when you smile.

“I don’t get why people– Mostly men– offer things like that if they don’t actually want to do them… Why offer to pay for dinner if you’re really actually wanting me to insist otherwise, you know?” you roll your eyes and wave a hand, your voice light but he can sense the real underlying annoyance.

“I didn’t realise that was a thing men actually did…” he admits curiously, and watches as you give an even heavier roll of your eyes.

“Well, good. That means you’ve never done it,” you say, shooting him a wry grin. “My boyfriend… ex-boyfriend… He used to do it a lot at the start of our relationship. He’d always end up telling me later how he hadn’t expected me to accept whatever it was. I guess he learnt to stop after a while.”

Rooster stares down at you slack jawed and momentarily speechless, taken completely aback that your ex would admit to such a thing, but that he’d not want to do things sincerely for you in the first place.

“... And that wasn’t a red flag?” he finds his voice enough to ask you, not bothering to hide the disapproval in his voice. You look away, but hum.

“I guess it should have been,” you say softly, pursing your lips as you seem to think for a moment.

“When I was younger I found it really hard to accept people doing things for me. If a man offered to pay for dinner, I’d feel so guilty that I’d insist he didn’t, and we’d end up splitting the bill instead. I’d go home feeling so disappointed, even though it was my fault…” you tell him, shaking your head at your own past actions. “A couple years ago, I started trying to be more honest with myself about what I wanted when it came to dating, and men… not just what I was willing to accept.”

Rooster nods as you speak, finding himself genuinely interested in your outlook on these things, wanting to hear more about them. You take his silent agreement as permission to go on.

“If flowers, or paying for dinner, or whatever, if it was something that I valued, made me feel valued, I shouldn't feel guilty about that,” you continue, sparing an almost nervous glance up at him, but Rooster is still nodding, agreeing with you completely.

“Good,” he tells you firmly. “And like you said; if they didn’t really want to, that’s their problem,” he states matter-of-factly, feeling an undue sense of pride when you laugh.

“Exactly!” you giggle a little more before eventually you both sober.

You were at the Services building now, the car park laid out in front of you, only a handful of vehicles still scattered around the lot.

“I guess that’s something I’m going to have to put into practise again at some point…” you think aloud, and Rooster only realises that he’s started to frown slightly when you look back at him.

“I guess it is…” he replies, unsure of why he suddenly feels so bothered at the thought of you dating someone like your ex again.

“Don’t ever accept anything less than what you want,” he feels the need to stress himself. “If he’s worth your time, he won’t accept giving you anything else.”

You smile at him softly, almost looking shy for a moment, before you finally come to a stop by your car. Rooster watches quietly as you toss your bag on the backseat.

“Thank you for walking me,” you say once you’ve turned back to him.

“Thank you for letting me,” he replies, stepping closer when you open your door to climb in, closing it for you once he can see that you’ve settled inside. You give him another soft smile as you roll your window down to say goodbye.

“See you on Monday, Rooster.”

“Drive safe.”

#rooster bradshaw x you #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x oc #top gun fanfiction #top gun fanfic

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simpforrooster · 1 year

Text

be careful with my baby.

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x F!reader

summary: a drunk Rooster makes a super serious confession.

a/n: mentions of alcohol, drunk!rooster, fluffy, not proofread xD

You watch as Rooster throws back another shot, grimacing as the harsh liquid makes its way down his throat. The team was back home from a mission and had been celebrating all night. Rooster lets out a loud ‘whoop’ and fixes you with a heart stopping grin from across the bar. Praying he doesn’t see the blush on your cheeks, you shake your head, and take the beers Penny holds out to you.

“Thanks, Baby Girl,” Rooster says, taking the beer from you. Natasha shoots you a look. Rooster has never called you this before. Why would he? The two of you weren’t together.

No matter how badly you wanted to be.

Rooster chats with Bob like nothing happened. Maybe he didn’t realize he’d said it?

The music coming from the jukebox switches from an upbeat country song, to a slow one. One that takes you back to junior high, hoping the guy you’re crushing on asks you to dance.

The makeshift dance floor fills with couples staring into each other’s eyes, swaying in one another’s arms. Because you are so engrossed in the Hallmark movie in front of you, you didn’t notice Rooster slide up behind you.

“Dance with me,” he whispers in your ear. Looking over your shoulder at him, he gives you a lazy smile. “Come on.”

Rooster takes his hand in yours and pulls you to the edge of the dancefloor. As his arms slide around your waist, your heart pumps double time. He’s never held you like this. Like he might lose you.

You’ve known Rooster for years, meeting him at this very bar the first night you moved in. You decided to treat yourself to a cheap beer for finally making a big girl decision and moving from your hometown. There was nothing there for you. You weren’t sure if there was anything for you here at the time. You just drove and drove and felt a pull to Fightertown.

Rooster lays his head on your shoulder, his mustache tickling your neck. He sways the two of you along to the music, and for a moment, you’re lost in a little dream world. One where Rooster is your guy. One where he bursts through the door every night calling, “Honey! I’m home!”

The alcohol must finally be hitting him, because he’s suddenly having a hard time holding his body weight off you.

“Roos..”

“Mmm,” he hums into your neck, causing your stomach to flip several times.

“You’re drunk,” you say, realizing that all this has to be stemming from the alcohol. He’s not just going to confess feelings out of nowhere.

“I’m not,” he defends, his head still resting on your shoulder. Rooster pulls you closer to him, seeming to relax the closer you are.

“Rooster, let me get you home.” The slow song was long over, and Rooster has made no moves to let you go.

Not that you are complaining.

“Okay,” he murmurs. He peels himself off of you, and places his keys in your outstretched hand. After closing your tabs with Penny, you guide a very drunk Rooster to his Bronco.

“I may be inebriated, but please be careful with my baby,” Rooster pats the hood as he walks (sways?) to the passenger side. Rolling your eyes, you hoist yourself behind the wheel. Taking the familiar route to Rooster’s apartment, you have his precious Bronco parked safely a few minutes later.

You lead Rooster into his home, and onto the couch. Rooster falls into his plush throw pillows, blowing out a breath. He pats the spot next to him and you oblige. His arm comes up around your shoulder, and he pulls you into him.

“I’m sorry I drank so much tonight,” he whispers. The apology catches you off guard. It isn’t like Rooster is out throwing back shots every night. His head rests against the back of the couch, his gaze locked on the ceiling. “I just chicken out whenever I’m around you.”

“Roos, what are you talking about?”

“I don’t want to say the words when I’m drunk. What if you don’t believe me?” His gaze is still skyward, and your confusion is running deeper. You grow a little faint at what the words could be. Does he have feelings for you? Has he been battling telling you or not, afraid to ruin the friendship like you have?

Rooster moves into a lying position on the couch, pulling you with him. He nestles deep into the soft couch, wrapping an arm around your waist. You have never felt more comfortable in your life.

“Stay with me,” he murmurs, sleep lacing his words.

“I will, Bradley,” you agree. His arm is ironclad around your waist, pulling you as close against his body as he can get you.

Before he gives into the alcohol induced slumber, he whispers four words that knock the breath out of you.

“I love you, baby.”

a/n: part two????

Part two

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multifan2022 · 11 months

Text

*Prewarning.. this is my first attempt at writing again.. I haven't touched my laptop since January so bare with me lol*

You could feel the warm wetness running down the side of your neck as you sat pinned at a weird angle. There was a sharp and hot pain every time you took a breath as you tried to remember where you were. What was the last thing you did? You couldn't remember getting in the bronco. Didnt remember driving away from the house. All you could remember was fighting with Bradley.

“Why would you say that to him Brad?! You know how devastated he was when Goose died! You're not the only person that hurt Rooster! FUCK!” You slammed your hands down onto the counter, having a hard time even looking at your husband. While you and your dad were not close, you never blamed him for what happened with Goose. Sure you blamed him for the short break up between you and Bradley as young adults but clearly that was in the past. All you wanted now was for them to figure it out, you wanted to be a family, have a family. But now as Bradley stood here looking at you the same way he looks at Mav.. You were questioning things..

You hadn't even noticed that you called him Rooster.. A thing that just started after the move back to Fightertown. Because you had always known Bradley, he wasn't Rooster too you.. But every night when he came home, a little more mad, and a little more distant, your Bradley was being replaced by Rooster. The aviator who was the best of the best, who was part of the 1%. But was also the aviator who had taken the anger and trauma Bradley had and used it to mold himself.

“No one to mourn you when you burn in… Really Bradley, because last time I checked, I am the one and only emergency contact for BOTH OF YOU!”

That if your rattled brain could remember correctly was the spark that lit the match. You and Bradley did not fight often, but when you did it was explosive. The kind of fights that left people in tears, the kind that led to words that should've been left unspoken. One of you always ended up on the couch for a few hours, normally both in tears until one of you couldnt take it anymore. Tonight was the first night that one of you actually left.

You didn't even know which part it was that pushed Bradley over the edge. Was it you telling him you couldn't have kids with him if he couldn't get his anger under better control? That you refused to keep Mavs grandkids from him one day over some pulled papers? Was it when you said that you had sacrificed enough to be with him, that you had to draw the line? Was it when you told him Goose and Carol would be disappointed in how he treated Mav today?

No matter what it was, the words he spoke as he left stung enough to leave you standing in the same spot for at least 30 minutes after he left. When you blinked and everything caught up with you, you realized the quietness of the house was turning your stomach. Without thinking you slipped shoes on and grabbed your keys. Originally you wanted to just drive your jeep around, clear your head since Bradley had just taken the doors and top off. But when you noticed the bronco still in the drive you couldn't resist being just a little close to Bradley.

That's how two hours later you ended up driving down some road next to some beach. Honestly at this point you weren't even sure where you were. All you could think about was how hard you were crying as Tim McGraw and Tswift came on. Highway don't care, it seemed poetic, if a song was ever written for the aftermath of this fight, it was this one. When it ended, you had decided it was past time to call Bradley, to find out where he was and at least get you both home. Unfortunately you accidentally knocked your phone out of the old cup holder and onto the passenger floor. One last attempt to save it before it flew out the open door was made.

You should've let it fly out the door. Because as you stretched across the cab, a car full of intoxicated teenagers came down the middle of the road. You could've sworn you heard someone yell your name as you sat straight up, jerking the wheel way too harshly in your panic to try and miss them. You desperately tried to keep control of the bronco as you skid sideways, unable to get control before it flipped down the side of the bank.

That's where you were now, wondering how much more Bradley would hate you for crashing his late fathers baby. In your concussed mind, this would be the feather that shattered your relationship. The nail in the proverbial coffin. Part of you registered how long you had been hanging sideways in your seat, the truck having stopped on the passenger side after flipping a few times. You registered that you were struggling to breathe, and definitely were bleeding. You didn't hear any sirens, knew that the teens had not stopped. But thankfully, as one Amelia Benjamin, was dropped off at home her conscience overran her fear of being in trouble.

So she told her mother and her boyfriend how she had been out drinking. How there had been a vehicle, one she swore she knew, that ended up off the road and she couldn't get anyone to stop. The two adults reassured her that while she was in trouble, she made a good choice in telling them. That maybe she saved someone's life. Little did they know how closely this would hit their little family.

Jake was over Bradley, the new found friendship they had was great. But it was two in the morning, and Jake honestly just didn't get it. He couldn't imagine having a lifelong love. A childhood best friend turned into the love of his life. So he couldn't wrap his brain around why Rooster was sitting in his kitchen right now. He also couldn't figure out who Rooster was mad at, himself or you? He told him as much and was surprised and worried when big brown eyes lifted from the floor with tears in them.

“Myself, I think.” Roosters voice croaked “Because she's right ya know.. How can I ask her to give me a family when I cant even be nice to her dad? You know I didn't even ask for his blessing? Not because I thought he would say no, but because I thought it would be a slap in the face to him.. I've always used her as a way to hurt him..” Rooster broke off in a sob. It hurt Hangman's heart to see how hard of a time his wingman was having. But if he knew you, and he felt like he did, you were going through it worse.

Taking a deep breath he pushed off his counter, annoyed that he was pulling his boots on with his impromptu sweat pants and grabbing his truck keys. Roosters watery eyes followed him before he jumped from his stool, understanding what was happening. When the two were finally in the truck Jake spoke, “Look Bradshaw, I know we aren't great friends or whatever, but I'm gonna tell you something that's gonna suck to hear.” Without looking he clicked the radio off before he continued. “Y/n.. She's a once in a lifetime kinda woman. The kind that will put up with just about anything to make things work. But once she draws a line in the sand, its there forever. Not just for you, but for the next guy too.”

The hair on Rooster's arms stood on end, not only because of Jakes words but he swore he heard another male voice whisper his name. “What do you mean.. The next guy..” Jake scoffed at how soft and confused Rooster's words were. “My man.. Do you think she will stick around if the one thing she asks of you, is something you refuse to do? She has already given up her father walking her down the aisle.. He wasn't even at the wedding right? She's moved all over to be with you. The only long term roots she has are from when she lived with you as a kid. When was the last time she asked something big of you?”

Rooster couldn't recall, causing Jake to just sigh and shake his head “I'm telling you this as your friend.. Fix this.. Because I wont fuck up where Maverick is concerned” Jake smirked at Bradley as they pulled into the driveway of your shared home. Rooster was practically out of the truck before it was in park, neither of them registering that the Bronco was gone. Jake watched as Bradley yelled your name, panicking more and more as he cleared each room. When he made it back to the living room he was already pulling his phone out. His thumb didn't even hesitate to click the call button as he tried to get ahold of you.

He called over and over again, not knowing that you were watching as your phone buzzed just a few feet from the car. You could swear you saw a man who looked just like Bradley walk up to the Bronco and give you a sad smile. Your eyes closed just as the bright blue and red lights started flashing close enough to illuminate your accident. Your last thought about how Bradley would get what he wanted. What his final sentence had been to you, come to life.. It just cost him the Bronco.

~~~

The ER was nuts on a good night, but tonight a Nurse named Layla was panicking. She had only met you a few times, being one of Hangman's regulars. At first, when she heard the explanation of the vehicle she was sure it was a Bradshaw, but unfortunately there was no IDS in the car and the police in the rush of trying to save you, had missed your phone. It wasn't until she rushed into the room to help with the CPR rotation that she knew it was you. Your hair was matted back with blood, the number of cuts and bruises amazed her. She was even more amazed that the tattoo on your hip was untouched. The one of a rooster with aviators on, the one that had confirmed who you were.

Quickly announcing that she knew who you were she ran from the room. Slipping sideways as she tried to open her employee locker. She had never dialed Jake's number so quickly.

Jake felt sick after he hung up. He was thankful for Layla, honestly he had always really liked her and this made him feel like he needed to take the whole thing with her seriously. But as he looked at Bradley, who was practically hyperventilating he didn't know how he was going to get him to the hospital. Layla had told him it was bad, bad enough that she didn't know if you were going to make it. Hangman heard the words come out of his mouth before he could stop them. They were harsh and he wanted to take the way he said it back almost immediately. “Bradshaw, looks like I found your wife.. She's in the hospital.”

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

Bradleys entire world came crashing down in a matter of nanoseconds. He kept trying to say what by only the wh would come out. He could see Jake's mouth moving as he ushered him back to the truck, and could comprehend that he was on the phone with Mav. But he couldn't grasp anything.

Well that is until the last interaction he had with his wife, the wife who was currently dying, played in his head. The one where he stormed out, didn't tell her he loved her. Didn't give her a kiss. Just said words that want to make him vomit now. Jake didn't fully hear him the first time he spoke, but when he asked Rooster to repeat himself, it took a lot of self control to not hit the man.

“My last words to her.. They were that I'd probably be better off without any of the Mitchells..”

Bradley's mouth tasted sour, his whole body weighed down as he cried silently. Thinking about how much he would hate himself if he couldn't make this right. What if you left him after this? Would you move in the Mav? Get with someone like Jake? God he doesn't think he could watch it. Doesn't think he could handle you even packing an overnight bag to be away from him for a night. Why did he always let this happen?

Why does he always let his anger just blurt out, why does he always take it out on you? When Mav had pulled his papers? It had been you he left. When his mom passed and you were trying to clean the house up for the wake.. It had been you he screamed at, even you whose head was right next to the wall he threw her favorite coffee cup into. But he only ever remembered the parts he liked. The memories where you held him while he cried and tried to pick up the pieces of that cup. Where he found a replacement in the cupboard a few days later. The parts of your story that made him feel loved. Like when he showed up at UVA, standing on your townhouse step with a duffle bag, sad eyes and apologies. It had been pouring rain, you had made him beg on his knees on the front porch before letting him in.

He didn't hear any of Jake's words on the drive, and was out of the car even sooner this time. His feet eat up the distance between him and the front desk attendant. When they tell him you're still unstable and he will have to wait, he almost passes out. Once again Jake leads him to a seat. He doesn't register anything that doesn't have to do with you. He barely notices as the other members of the squad show up. Maverick kneels in front of him trying to catch his eye. But when he does, Bradley loses it. The tears that have been silently streaming down his face are now coming out in full sobs. Bradley keeps apologizing over and over, for not treating his daughter the way he should have. For what he said, for how long he has let this go on. It's like sad but relieving word vomit.

Once Bradleys done, he moves on to reassuring an equally distressed Amelia. Who crying and sobs every word out as she explains to someone she looks at like a big brother, what happened. Bradleys not mad at her, hes not even mad at her friends. He's mad at himself, because had he grown up sooner, had he not been the reason for this fight, you wouldn't have been out on the road anyways. You would've been at home, wrapped up in his arms watching trash tv before having sex and falling asleep. He put you here, he knows that.

When Layla comes out and says a soft hi, it breaks her heart and fills it to see the entire group here. She's surprised when Jake comes and hugs her, kissing the top of her head and thanking her profusely. She spoke as frankly and kindly as she could. “It was touch and go for a while. We lost her a few times.. She was unconscious when the cops found her.. She's got a long road ahead of her. Collapsed lung, small brain bleed, lots of bruises and a handful of broken bones. She's stable for now, but I don't really have good news yet. The first 24 hours are crucial.”

All Bradley could hear as Layla led him and Maverick down the hall was that you had died.. Multiple times. He heard Mav gasp slightly as he entered the room, and it was like glue that forced Bradleys feet to stay in place. Layla paused as your dad walked towards you and turned to your husband. “I know this is hard Rooster.. But Y/ns a fighter.. She fought hard while in the Bronco, fought harder in the ambulance and here to stay with you.. But now she needs you..” Layla squeezed his arm as he took the small step to the doorway.

The scene in front of him was nothing like in the movies. Ones where they show someone who was ‘in an accident’ but is barely bruised up. No, because the woman laying before him couldn't be his wife. Your skin was grayish, instead of the healthy tan glow you had developed under the Cali sun. The multiple leads and wires you had on you helping to sustain your life made him sick. A collar around your neck to keep your head stable. There were gashes across your beautiful face, and bruises on every inch of skin he could see. He knew the next moment he had with you would be make it or break it. You would either wake up, and be happy to see him.. Or you would wake up and ask him to leave..

Now all he could do.. Was wait.

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