#bradly bradshaw x reader

[warnersister]

Personal Space (two Bradshaws like it now)

Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: A sequel in which you love your personal space. Unfortunately, Bradley also loves your personal space. Even more so now you’ve had a baby, apparently.

Can be read as a part 2, but doesn’t have to be. Read Personal Space here

You really didn’t know when it all happened, when you and Bradley became a thing. At first he was just an annoying crew member you couldn’t shake off your tail. Then he was your wingman. Then you got accidentally placed into marriage accommodation and the two of you played it off so you could get better housing. Then you actually bought a house. And then somewhere along the way you got married.

“Where shall we have the wedding?” Bradley asked and you raised a brow “register office” you shrug “what you don’t want a wedding?” He asks, hand on his chest as he feigns offence. “You do?” You ask and he nods vigorously. You huff. “Fine” “so shall we do it on the beach?” He asks “okay” you just go along with it, hardly even entertaining the idea at all.

“So? What do you think?” Nat asks as she makes you pivot in a white gown “I think I look like a roll of toilet paper” you said, crossing your arms “maybe it’s just not the dress for you?” She reasons and you shake your head “just not really into the whole idea of this wedding. I kinda thought we’d just sign papers and get on with it” you said “well you picked Bradshaw, he’s a drama queen at the best of times” she says and you him in agreement; your consultant leading you back to the fitting rooms “let’s try another”.

You’d left with a sleeved dress; hating the idea of having a low cut dress, and begging Nat to just let you leave. Sure, you loved the dress - but you loved the idea of getting out of that suffocating shop more.

“Hey honey” Bradley had said, hearing you walk into the house and set your keys on the kitchen counter. “Hi” you reply shortly, moving to fill your cup with water from the sink. “How was your day?” He asked, moving to rest his head on your shoulder and holding you from behind. “Good. Bought a wedding dress” you say simply “you did what?!”

Then on your wedding day, you’d stared at yourself in the mirror far too long. “You look gorgeous” Penny whispers, squeezing your shoulders comfortingly “I look like a fucking pin up doll” you huff, not necessarily believing yourself - just not used to being such a central perspective of attention. “Wow” your dad says, walking into the room “you look gorgeous” he whispers “is there an echo in here?” You mumble, but smile at him “thank you” you say, wiping the tears from under his eyes. “C’mon, Bradley’s nearly about to come get you himself”

You showed up to the beach-front wedding right on time, completely dead against the idea of being in any way, shape, or form late. Your father gave you away, Bradley in floods of tears at the end of the isle by the time you’d gotten there. “You look incredible” he whispers, lips quivering as he stares at you “shut up you’re going to make me cry.” You grumble, but smile. “It’s okay to cry.” He says, as the ceremony begins. “You may now kiss your bride” and Bradley dipped you and kissed you sweetly, drowning out the cheers of those around you. “I love you, Bradshaw.” You say, smally, “I love you more, sweetheart” he says and kisses your forehead “you’re crying” he points out “shut up”

And then you looked at the two lines on the pregnancy test two years later. You hummed “okay” and looked at yourself in the mirror, knowing nothing else other than the fact that you had to tell Bradley right that second. You marched downstairs, where he was sat playing with some keys on the piano you’d bought him last Christmas, stopping next to him. “Hey baby, y’alright?” He asked, and you just held out the stick to him. “What’s this?” He asks, taking it from you and looking over it once. “You serious?” He asked, looking at you; smile growing from ear to ear “you’re pregnant?” He almost whispers “unless the other four lied.” you say and he jumps up and pulls you into his arms, kissing all over your face until you shouted at him to stop.

He knelt down and looked at your stomach, kissing it gently then moving to put his ear against it “uh huh” he hummed “Bradley what are you-” “shush I’m talking to em” he says and you stand, unimpressed, but let him nonetheless. “Oh yeah baby, I’m excited to meet you too” he coos “yeah, yeah, I’m your dad” and you audibly giggle. He looks up at you, eyes wide “you done?” You ask and he nods “yeah little one was done talking” he smiles, and hugs you close again. “I need to get the baby clothes out of the attic” he mumbles, kissing your temple “the what?” You ask “I bought them when we started renting the house!” He says, dragging you excitedly up the stairs “but we own the house, Brad” you him “no, no, the one we had during the mission!” He says and you gasp internally, realising how long the two of you had been together without even noticing it.

“Hey dad” you say, as you and Bradley head into the hangar he and you owned “hey honey, hey Brad” your dad greets, wiping the oil from his hands to come over and talk to the two of you. He kissed your forehead and hugged you, then your husband before walking back over to the aircraft he was working on. “Thought you needed a new picture for your pinboard” you hum “oh? I just added the wedding photo!” He says, excitedly, showing you the filled gap. “Okay, guess you don’t want the sonogram of your grandchild.” You say, turning to head out before Bradley hurriedly grabbed you and turned you back into the situation, pulling the strip of photos from his breast pocket. Your dad stood with his jaw wide open “you’re-” he breathes “you’re really pregnant?” He asks as his eyes well with tears “well I wouldn’t lie-” you say but he just pulls you into a big bear hug, pinning Baby Bradshaw’s picture onto his board.

You head to go look at the part of the engine your dad couldn’t quite fix while Bradley held back with Maverick. He turns to him and shakes his hand “your dad would’ve been so proud.” He says, smiling at Bradley “I know you are.” Rooster smiles, wordlessly being pulled into a hug with his father-in-law.

Then one evening you were sat up in bed, Bradley sound asleep beside you as you look down at the barely visible bump. Bradley had sort of a sixth sense, somehow knowing you weren’t asleep beside him. “Hey, baby what’s up?” He croaks, immediately moving to sit up with you when he sees his senses were correct. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do, Bradley.” You say, staring ahead at the wall “what do you mean?” He asks, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “I mean I’m a fighter pilot, I was raised by a single father, I never had that maternal instinct, what am I doing?” You whisper, and when Bradley managed to finally pull your face towards him you were crying “oh sweetheart” he hums, pulling you into him gently “you’re gonna be the best momma ever, and the fact that you worry proves that. I love you, okay?” He comforts “I know. I love you too.”

You were stubborn the whole pregnancy. You thought it was ridiculous that people just stopped when they were pregnant, and Bradley was trailing you trying anything to get you to just relax. “Hen, please!” He begs as you head out for your morning run “I’m three months pregnant, Bradley. I’m not incompetent.” You snap, as he begrudgingly pulls on his running shoes and follows you out the door. He pulled you back anytime you went quicker than a 10 minute mile “Bradley, if you slow me down one more time I’m going to pull your arm out of your socket” you snap and he holds his hands up “message received.”

Then one day, at around the sixth month mark you walked into the house and slammed the door so hard it rattled. “What’s up?” Bradley asked, as you practically threw your stuff on the floor. “They’re putting me on the desk.” You grumble, anger evident in your eyes while his soften “oh baby we knew that was gonna happen” he soothes, rubbing your arm reassuringly “no! No we didn’t! I was perfectly fine hiding the bump, but no!” You huff “I’m Bradley Bradshaw and all of California has to know my wife’s pregnant!” You imitate him but he just smirks “oh I’m so sorry that everyone needs to know you’re taken and carrying my baby” he says, smugly. “Don’t you smile at me Bradley-” you wag an accusatory finger at him, but he heaves you over his shoulder, and towards the stairs “c’mon, let’s help you blow off some steam” he reasons “y’know it’s possible to get pregnant while pregnant, right?” You ask and he cheers “woohoo! Two for one deal, sounds great!” He says and you can’t help but smile.

Then came your maternity leave, Bradley picked you up in his bronco. You were quick to head outside, and he kinda hated how well you hid the bump. “I’m done.” You huff, settling into the seat beside him “if that bitch from accounting asks me one more time if I want her herbal teas I’m going to knock her teeth out” you complain and Bradley chuckles “well, just me, you and Baby Bradshaw now” he says and you hum in agreement.

But when you approached your street, you rolled straight past your house and straight to the Hard Deck ‘congratulations on your baby’ banners plastered all over “welcome to our baby shower!” Bradley grins as you pull up “is this really necessary? They aren’t even here yet.” You tell him and he shrugs “thought it might take your mind off maternity leave” you smile at him “thanks, Brad”

And at one point in the evening, you sat Natasha and Bob down separately. “Hey Phoenix, can we borrow you?” Brad asked, pulling her away from her conversation “yeah of course guys!” You took a seat at a table and Bradley forced you to elevate your feet against your will. “What’s up?” She asks “how’d you like to be godmother to little Bradshaw?” Her eyes lit up when Bradley asked and she leant over the table to hug the two of you “oh I’d love too!” She announces, excitedly.

Then you head over to Bob, but Phoenix holds Rooster back “they have a special connection, let her do this”. You sit on the stool next to Bob and he offers you some peanuts which you refuse, and you stay sat in silence for a minute. “Bob can I ask you something?” You ask, as he pulls your calves up to rest in his lap “of course, hen” he says, brushing some crumbs off his top “what’s up?” “Well, the job we’re in isn’t an old job” you say and he laughs and agrees “it’s also dangerous” you say, and again - he nods. “So if anything happens to me and Brad, can you be there for little Bradshaw?” His eyes widen and start to swell with tears “will you be our godfather?” You ask and he nods, moving to miss your cheek “of course I will, hen. I’d be honoured.”

Bradley and you had started putting together your hospital bag at the 8 month mark. You were both premature so had a bit of superstition, especially with only being a few weeks off of the 40 mark. You’d placed the bag by the front door, along with a baby carrier in the middle seat of his Bronco.

It was week 38 when you were both putting together the crib beside your bed, two spare bedrooms and still you only wanted your baby beside you. “Okay all done, baby” your husband said “okay. My water broke three minutes ago” you say as calmly as he had, he nods, then whips his head back round “your water broke?” He asks and looks down, and indeed, your water had broken “oh my god your water broke?!” He announced, picking you up bridal style and carrying you out to the bronco, picking the hospital bag up on the way. “Ready to have a baby?” He asks, giddily. “Am I supposed to be?” You ask and he shakes his head with a smile “no”

You were dead silent during birth and it scared the shit out of Bradley. “Do you want an epidural, honey? They’ve offered-” “no.” “Can I get you more ice?” “No.” And he tried everything, even when it was time to push. You held his hand and your mouth was zipped shut. “Is she supposed to be this quiet?” He asked the doctor who just looked at him nonchalantly “it’s normal, all mothers react differently to birth” he said. “I’m a fighter pilot Bradley. I’ve had worse.” You grit. “Breathe baby” he tells you “I think you need to.” You say “stop being dramatic” you say as you push again “honey-” “either shut up or get out.” You tell him and he glues his mouth shut, at least until the baby comes.

Bradley cuts the chord and they hand you your baby, and your eyes widen as you stare at the baby on your chest “welcome to the world Nick Bradshaw” you coo at the baby and Bradley raised his brows “Nick?” He asks, voice cracking “what? Got a problem with that? You and your stupid dick” you grumble and Bradley laughs and shakes his head, kissing your forehead.

“Hey mom, shall we take baby so you can get some rest?” The nurse asked, leaning to take Nick from your arms “excuse me?” You asked, pulling your baby closer. “So you can sleep?” She suggests “I’ve carried him for nine months and now he’s here you’re taking him away?” You ask “well, some mothers like to sleep” “I can sleep when I’m dead.” You deadpan, and she realised that Nick wouldn’t have been pried from your hands even if you were dead, so she left you all alone.

“Taking you away from mommy? Who does she think she is?” You whisper to baby Nick. “Welcome back to the world, Bradshaw.” You say and Bradley can only smile and hold the two of you close.

You’re going to be just fine in this mommy role.

——————————

Part 2-ish? I know it was really well liked and I enjoyed writing it so hope you enjoy this one too!

-> @rosiahills22 here’s another one!

[paintlavillered]

alright, danny’s on the hit list now 😤

Batting Practice Part 19 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: All week long, you and Everett were enjoying some quality time with Bradley. The Tiny Eagles were still undefeated, and you were starting to think about how nice it would be if Bradley moved in with the two of you. But on Sunday, when Danny is supposed to be spending the day with Everett, you get an upsetting call.

Warnings: Smut, fluff, angst and swearing

Length: 4300 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader

Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun!

The further your week progressed, the more loved up you were feeling. After practice on Monday, you watched Bradley carry Ev up to the parking lot on his shoulders while they sang Take Me Out to the Ballgame. 

On Tuesday, Bradley came over for dinner. He helped you cook, and then he helped Everett do his homework while you lounged on the couch with a glass of wine. 

On Wednesday, you and he had a quickie on the stairs after Everett was in bed. That was something you had never done before, but also something you definitely wanted to do again. 

But on Thursday, a rare thunderstorm moved in, and Bob decided to cancel practice. "Want to come over and watch a movie instead?" you asked Bradley when he called. 

He scoffed and asked, "Are the Phillies the best team in baseball?"

You laughed as you looked outside at the dark sky and pouring rain. "That's definitely a yes."

"That's a hell yes, Kitten. I'll be there soon."

When he arrived, Everett opened the door for him and said, "We're going to watch Toy Story!"

Bradley tousled Everett's hair and laughed as he removed his wet baseball cap and jacket. "How did you know that's my favorite movie?"

Everett's eyes went wide. "Is it really your favorite?"

"Top ten, easily," Bradley replied, and as he made his way into your living room, he pulled you in for a kiss. His mustache was wet from the rain, and you had to reel in your need for him in front of Everett.

"I'll make popcorn," you whispered, and when you returned with it, they were both already cozy on the couch. 

"Ready?" Everett asked as he held up the remote. 

"Yep," you replied, eating some popcorn before you passed it to Everett where he was perched between the two of you. And you had to laugh, because apparently Bradley hadn't been lying. He had most of Toy Story memorized, and the two of them kept quoting parts together and laughing. 

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Bradley asked, tossing some popcorn at you. "This movie came out when I was like eleven. I was obsessed with it."

"You are adorable," you replied, catching some of the popcorn in your mouth when he threw more at you. 

He just sat there looking smug for a bit, and then when the part came on that always scared Everett, Bradley let him cuddle up against his side. "It's okay. The ending is happy," Bradley murmured, and you took the empty bowl so he could rub Everett's back. 

"I know," he whispered. "But getting to the end is scary."

Bradley met your eyes, and you wanted to say something while Woody was about to get blown up by dynamite. But nothing seemed adequate. Everett was going to be spending the day with Danny on Sunday while you and Molly went wine tasting a few towns away. But you just had a feeling that Everett was going to come home upset or maybe even in tears, and it hurt your heart. But you didn't know what else to do. You just wished Danny cared about Everett even just a fraction of the amount that Bradley obviously did.

"Scary parts over," Bradley whispered, and you realized that Everett had been hiding his eyes. "Almost time for the happy ending."

"That's the best part," Everett said, once again vividly interested in the movie. He sat perched on the edge of the couch with rapt attention.

You swallowed your guilt down and let yourself enjoy the rest of the movie as Bradley's hand found yours along the couch. 

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

Bradley carried Everett upstairs by his ankles, letting him dangle in the air while he absolutely screeched with delight. When Bradley set him down on his bed, Everett said, "That was so cool!"

"That was your reward for not getting too scared by the movie. And for helping your mom clean up all the popcorn we threw at her."

Everett laughed more before he stood to go brush his teeth. "Hey, Bradley?"

"Yeah, Kiddo?" 

"I like it when you're at our house. Do you have a house?"

Bradley smiled and said, "No. I have an apartment. And it's not as good as your house, because your mom doesn't live there. And you don't live there."

Everett looked at him very seriously before he walked to the bathroom. "We have an extra bedroom. You should move in here. And you could bring the rest of your baseball cards and stuff with you."

Bradley pressed his lips together and tried not to laugh. "Something to consider, I guess."

Once Everett was in bed, Bradley went back downstairs where he had left you relaxing on the couch. "Come here, Coach," you said softly as you lifted up the end of the blanket for him. He slipped underneath it next to you, and you wrapped your arms around his neck and straddled his hips. "I was just listening to the storm."

Bradley sighed and ran his hands along your thighs to your butt as you kissed his cheek and let your fingers sink into his hair. "Thanks for inviting me over for the movie."

"Well, Everett insisted. And I had no idea you were such a Toy Story fan," you said with a giggle that made him feel a little weak. 

"I used to watch it with my mom all the time. She liked it, too," he whispered as your lips found his neck. "You're a good mom, Kitten." You paused and looked at him, and Bradley was suddenly trying to figure out what he did wrong. 

"Everett is spending the day with his dad on Sunday."

Bradley's eyebrows shot up. "Danny? He made Everett cry. That's all I can associate with him. The fact that he made Everett cry and he wasn't good to you."

You swallowed hard and hid your face against his shoulder. "Maybe I'm not a good mom. I keep trying to give him a chance, and he just doesn't seem to take it."

"Shhh," Bradley whispered, coaxing you to look at him with his fingers on your chin. "That's just because you care so much. You want Everett to have everything. Even if it's hard for you."

You sniffed and kissed him as you said, "I love you." Then Bradley carried you up to bed after you fell asleep.

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

The weather in San Diego was never bad for long, so Friday evening, you agreed to a date with Bradley. A date for the three of you.

"Somehow I ended up being the one left out here," you complained with a smile as Bradley held your hand and just shook his head at you. He had taken you and Everett to the flea market near the beach to look for baseball cards.

"If you stop whining, I'll buy you a three dollar burger, Kitten."

"Oh!" you said perking up and helping them look through the tables of cards. That damn burger had been delicious when he bought you one last time. "What am I looking for?"

"Phillies players," Bradley and Everett mumbled in unison, and your heart clenched. Then you pulled a card out of one of the boxes and held it up, and Bradley's eyes went wide. 

"Don't set that one down," he said, kissing you hard on the lips. "I've been looking for that one."

After he had purchased a few cards, including a novelty Phanatic card for Everett, he took you both for burgers and fries. "It's getting a little late," Bradley said as he checked the time on his phone. "Think we have time for the batting cages?"

Everett gasped so loudly, and the smile on Bradley's face had your heart pounding. "Yeah," you replied. "I think we have time." Because now there was no way you could deny either of them. 

Bradley took both of you back to the location of your date. That date that he insisted wasn't your first date but was instead your third date, because he counted the snack bar and park outing as real dates. Then he got you and Everett outfitted in helmets and helped you pick out bats. He took the care and time to teach Everett how everything worked, just like he had done for you. 

"Safety first," Bradley said, kneeling in front of Everett. "Keep your helmet on, and don't stand directly in front of the machine. Got it?"

"Got it, Coach!" Everett nearly shouted, practically vibrating with excitement. And then you watched from the corner of the cage with amazement as Bradley started the machine. By the third pitch, Everett was hitting every ball, and some of them looked like they were hit well.

"Yes!" Bradley cheered. "Now move your right foot back a bit. Right there. Watch for the pitch."

He was good. Much better than you had been. And he only needed minimal help from Bradley. You watched your son hit dozens of pitches while you took some photos and videos. And when he turned to look at you while you were recording him, he looked absolutely delighted.

"You're up, Kitten," Bradley said, turning off the machine and reaching for you.

Everett came over and pushed you into place when you protested. "I'm not as good as the two of you!"

"You just have to practice," Bradley murmured, bending to kiss you before he handed you a bat. "Remember how to stand?''

"I think so," you replied, but his hands were already on your hips and waist, gently but firmly getting you into the proper position. He let them linger. You wanted to do this every Friday night. He squeezed you with both of his big hands, and then he turned the machine on. 

You managed to hit a few of the pitches while Everett cheered for you. "Mommy! You're good!"

"Thanks, Ev," you said with a laugh. But after a dozen pitches, you said, "Come on, Coach, show us how it's done."

"Yeah! Please, Coach?"

With a soft groan, Bradley took your bat from your hands and kissed your cheek. And when you stood in the corner with Everett, you realized that this was the first time your son ever got to see Bradley batting. And it was just as impressive as the last time you were here. With the speed set to high, Bradley hit every single pitch like a pro. Dozens of pitches flew up into the mesh, but they looked like home runs to you. 

You couldn't take your eyes off him, and neither could Everett. He stood in front of you with your hands on his shoulders, completely transfixed. "Wow," Everett muttered. 

"He's good," you whispered as Bradley nailed another hard pitch with ease. When he turned the machine off, both of you were still gaping at him. "You better play in that summer league, Bradley."

His smile as he swung the bat over his shoulder made your insides melt.

"You have to!" Everett said, jumping up and down. "And you can pitch and Coach Bob can play in the outfield. And Mommy and I can watch and we can keep your stats if you teach us how."

When Bradley responded to your son by putting his hand gently on Everett's shoulder and guiding him out of the chainlink cage, you were prepared to beg him to play in the summer league. But then he said, "I already sent in my application, Kiddo."

"Why didn't you tell us?" you asked as he held the gate open for you. 

"I haven't been selected yet. But I think they'll call me to try out." 

"They'll pick you! They have to!" Everett insisted. And you could picture it so clearly: sitting on the bleachers at the Navy ballpark, you and Ev wearing matching Bradshaw shirts with Molly in a Floyd shirt. Instead of feeling embarrassed, you just wanted that more and more. 

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

"I think he's asleep," you mumbled against Bradley's lips, grinding down on his thigh on the couch. Bradley had collected you into his lap to talk after Everett was in bed, but he wasn't mad about where you decided to take things instead. "But we should go out to your Bronco just in case." 

Without a word, Bradley hauled you to your feet and practically dragged you out to your driveway in the darkness. "You can get a little loud out here, Kitten." He opened the back door and helped you climb in, and you were peeling your shirt off before he even had the door closed behind him. "Up here," he coaxed, rubbing his thigh, and you were on him immediately.

"You should sleep over tonight," you groaned as Bradley tossed your bra across the seat and put his mouth on your tits. 

"Mmhmm," he hummed against you. "Just need to leave early before the game to go get my stuff."

"Would be easier if your stuff was here." 

He paused, popping your nipple out of his mouth, but you were already so far gone, you were guiding his mouth back into place. He got you completely naked while he stayed mostly clothed, and you rode his dick nice and slow. You put on a real show for him, your hands touching yourself everywhere as your eyes went hazy. 

"You're so fucking pretty," he growled when your fingers dug into his hair as you rode out your orgam with your head tipped back. "Jesus, Kitten." He sucked on your tits until your cries quieted, and then he stretched you out on the seat with your back against the soft leather. 

You pulled him down for more kisses while he fucked you into the seat. When he came, it was to your voice softly telling him that you loved him. His fingers tangled up in your necklace chain as you pulled his sweaty forehead against your shoulder. "I love you, Bradley."

He kissed your collarbone and let his hand settle against your belly. "I love you. And I love your son." You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and held him tight.

When he finally got you clothed enough for you to walk back inside, Bradley set an early alarm on his phone and then took you up to your bedroom. While you got changed, he checked on Everett, lingering in the doorway while his tiny body rose and fell with each breath. Today was another perfect day. 

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

After the game on Saturday, the whole team was buzzing. "One more game to go, and still undefeated!" Everett said as he hugged you afterwards. He and Piper had both scored in the last inning to win the game for the Tiny Eagles, and now you almost lost your voice from cheering. 

"Her kid does well, because the coaches give her special treatment," Sandra said. But you just ignored it because not only was Everett a better player than Henry, but you were actually dating Bradley now. You didn't want to start a fuss. 

When Bradley and Bob were finished talking to the other team's coaches, they both came over. "I was hoping Mo would be here today," Bob told you, still glancing up at the parking lot.

"Mo?" you asked, gaping at Bob. "That's the cutest thing I have ever heard! I think Mo stayed to work some overtime this morning."

Bob blushed a deep pink while Bradley chased Everett to try to get his clipboard back. They ran around the bleachers laughing while Bob said, "I'm going to ask her to move in with me, even though it's moving really fast. But I think she's going to say no, because of her work hours."

"There's no harm in asking," you replied, making a mental note to tell Molly she better move in with Bob or else.

He looked at the ground. "We haven't really talked about that kind of stuff yet or my deployments. Do you think... If I get deployed for six months, is she going to break up with me?"

You burst out laughing so hard, he looked like he was going to cry. Meanwhile your little sister had asked you the other day if you thought Molly Floyd sounded cute. And when you told her it sounded adorable, she said she really wanted her initials to be MF which made you both giggle. 

You managed to reel in your laughter. "No, Bob. I don't think she would break up with you, even if you were gone for a year." You patted his cheek gently, and he finally looked like he believed you. 

"You're too fast, Ev," Bradley called, chasing after him and panting. "Shit, I'm actually worn out. That kid is fast as hell." 

"He needs to play real ball next year," said Bob as the flushed pink color started to fade from his cheeks. 

"Yeah, I'm gonna work with him this summer," replied Bradley nonchalantly as Everett finally ran back over with his clipboard. And the casual way with which Bradley talked about the future made you smile. 

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

"I don't want to go!"

Everett was practically in tears the next morning when you packed up some snacks and his ipad in his backpack. And honestly, you were barely holding back your own tears. 

"It's just for the day, Ev. And your dad is excited to see you!"

"No, he's not," he whispered, kicking his shoes across the living room and running back upstairs. 

You took a deep breath and let it out slowly as the feeling of panic rose inside you. But you were doing the right thing, weren't you? Spending time with his dad should have been beneficial to everyone. You just needed Danny to get used to this or alternately pay child support. And since there was no way he was going to be paying you anything, this would just have to do. He'd come around after a while. Maybe you'd even eventually work up to some sleepovers for Everett. 

"Ev, Sweetie, I'll be back around dinner time. I promise," you called. And a second later, his head poked around the wall at the top of the stairs. 

"You better," he whispered and stormed down the stairs with a scowl on his face. 

When you got him in your car, he was silent for the entire drive across town to Mission Beach and Danny's townhouse. For someone who couldn't pay child support, his neighborhood was a lot nicer than yours. You sighed and looked at Everett in your rearview mirror after you parked, and he was still scowling. 

"You can play on your ipad," you reminded him. "And maybe your dad will let you use some of his paints like last time."

"That was months ago," Everett mumbled. "And he got mad when I spilled some on the kitchen counter."

You pressed your lips together and thought about calling your sister to cancel the outing and going back home instead. But then Danny opened his front door and looked at you expectantly. 

"Okay, there he is," you said brightly, and when you walked Everett up the sidewalk, you felt a little better.

"Hi," you called out to Danny as he opened the door wider for Everett to slink past him. 

"What time will you be back?" he asked, not bothering to greet either one of you.

You just shook your head and swallowed your guilt. "Around five."

He gave you a severely annoyed look and then mumbled goodbye as you called out, "Have fun, Ev!" And then the door was closed and you walked slowly back to your car. 

When you picked up Molly, she rambled on about Bob and work, and you were thankful that you didn't have to say much. The wine tasting was a treat from Bob, and since he wasn't a big drinker, he told Molly to take you.

"He's such a sweetheart, Mo," you said with a chuckle. 

"He's not always sweet in bed," she replied, looking out her window with a smile.

"Oh my God, Molly," you said, smacking her arm as you headed out of the city and toward the vineyard. "Please don't elaborate. I like being able to look him in the eye."

"All I'm saying is Coach Cute Glasses has got moves. And a bit of a dirty mouth."

"Please stop," you mumbled, seriously ready to blast the radio if she kept going.

"Okay, fine. I'll stop. But just know, he's so much bigger than Casey was."

"Molly!" you screeched as she cackled. When you threatened to leave her on the side of the road, she finally changed the subject to Everett's birthday and the Padres game. And she asked you how things were going with Bradley, and you thought about mentioning the backseat sex as revenge for being told too much about Bob, but you didn't. And then you had reached the vineyard. 

After a tour, the two of you tasted every wine that was offered, and then you argued for a long time while you put them in order of favorite to least favorite.

"This red one was disgusting," Molly told you, moving one that you liked to last place. "You have questionable taste."

"No, I don't!" you complained. 

"Two words: Danny. Frank." She kept rearranging the wines in her preferred order while you scoffed. 

"Thank you for not grouping Bradley with them."

"No. He's alright now," she said, sounding more impressed. "God, he was dumb for a bit there, but he sorted himself out. And it was fun to make him sweat about losing you and Ev."

"Fun?" you asked. "That was not fun."

She shrugged and ordered two sangrias. "It was kind of fun for me," she said apologetically. "Plus it let me know he really cares about you."

"I might ask him to move in with me and Ev soon," you blurted out. And now you were thinking about what Bob told you. And you started rambling about something that happened at work, and you realized you'd already had a lot to drink.

"Let's order food," Molly suggested. And you sat outside in the sun with your sangrias and your lunch and got very tipsy. 

Molly took about a million selfies of the two of you, and when you saw one that actually looked cute, you said, "Send me that one. I want to text it to Bradley."

She rolled her eyes. "Who do you think I've been texting them to this whole time?"

"Bob?" you replied as your waiter dropped off more drinks.

"And Bradley," she said with a smirk. You took her phone from her hand and looked at the thread she had with him. 

"Oh my goodness," you whispered. She had sent your boyfriend about a dozen photos of you in varying degrees of ridiculousness. "What is wrong with you?"

"Look what he said!" Molly urged, moving her phone closer to your face.

Your sister is gorgeous. 

I miss her, do you know what time you're heading back? 

Everett looks so much like her, what a lucky kid. 

You handed the phone back to her and pretended to melt off of your chair while she laughed. "You're drunk!" she accused. 

"Yeah, so what?" you asked as you laughed at her. 

"I love it!" she chanted. "You never do this kind of stuff with me!"

You groaned. "Gotta always be alert for Ev," you mumbled, checking the time on your phone. You'd have to wait a bit before you could drive.

"I didn't mean it like that," Molly said. "But if Bradley moves in with you, he'd be around so we could go do fun stuff like this."

"That's true," you told her as you stared up at the passing clouds. Then your phone rang and when you reached for it, your heart sank.

You accepted the facetime call from Everett's ipad. "Ev?"

"Mommy?"

"Yeah! I'm here. Are you having fun?" Molly helped you block the afternoon sun so you could see the screen more clearly. And then you saw his face. "What's wrong?"

He looked to his right and then turned back toward the screen, his sweet little forehead scrunched with worry. "Are you coming to get me soon?"

You could feel the wine coursing through your body, and now you wanted to throw up. "Pretty soon. Is something wrong, Everett?"

"I don't know."

"Where is your dad?" you asked him, scooting to the edge of your seat.

"In his room with Tori."

Your eyes went wide. "Who is Tori?" you asked at the same time as Molly.

Everett kind of shrugged. "She got here a little while ago. She said she was his girlfriend."

"What the fuck?" Molly muttered, reaching for her water glass, and then she immediately started drinking. You were too drunk to drive, and so was she. And you weren't even in the city anyway.

"Are you okay, Ev? Can you sit on the couch and play more games? The charger should be in your backpack if you need it."

But he still looked nervous.

"Just tell me what's wrong," you prompted as your heart pounded. 

"Well, it smells weird in here now. It smells gross."

You froze and looked at Molly who looked like she was going to rage. Danny was smoking pot with his presumably barely legal girlfriend while he was supposed to be spending the day with his son. Now you really were going to throw up as you stood and walked out toward the vineyard, afraid you were going to have a panic attack. 

"Just sit on the couch, okay? I'll come get you as soon as I can." But that would be hours from now. Your hands started to shake as Molly ran up behind you with two glasses of water. 

"I just paid for everything, but we need to sober up," she said. 

You took one glass from her and sobbed as you asked for her phone. "Here, talk to Ev, okay?" 

She nodded and traded phones with you and started to ask her nephew a series of riddles. When you called Bradley from Molly's phone, he answered on the third ring. 

"Hey, Molly. You two having fun?"

"Bradley!" 

"Kitten? What's wrong?"

You took a deep breath to keep from crying. "I need your help."

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

If Everett cries again, so help me..... Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32!

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[bloatedandalone04]

If It Makes You Happy - Part 1

➪the one where you give bradley your heart and he breaks it.

Warnings: smut, angst, fluff, unprotected sex, age gap, 18+, swearing, alcohol consumption, hair pulling, small pain kink ig, jealousy

Word Count: 5.3k | Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

“God, you feel so good,” Bradley’s deep voice sent chills down your spine. Your hands trailed up his back and gripped his shoulders as his hips hit yours over and over again. “Fuck, baby.”

His words, mixed with his raspy voice, went right to your core, where you greedily sucked him in deeper.

Bradley groaned loudly, dipping his head down to suck on your collar bone. He wasn’t usually one for hickeys at his age, but he found himself loving to both give them and receive them ever since you and he first started this whole situation.

“Just like that,” you whimpered, squeezing your eyes shut tightly when you felt his lips pepper kisses all over your neck. 

“Like this?” He mutters as he fucked into you, making you see stars behind your closed eyes.

“Yes,”

One of his hands reaches down to wrap your leg around his waist, making him reach even deeper in you. “You like that, baby?” 

“Yes,” you say again, sliding one hand up to tug on his hair. “Please.”

Bradley grunted at your relentless tugging, the feeling of your fingers threading through his hair adding to the overall pressure currently building within him. “Fuck, you’re so hot,”

If he thought you were hot, he must not be aware just how damn near edible he is. 

He continued to suck mark after mark onto the skin of your neck, all while his hips rocked into yours with a friction that had you digging your nails into his bicep. One thing you both discovered was that Bradley had a bit of a thing for pain. He loved when you marked his skin with your nails or bit on his bottom lip whenever you kissed, but the thing he loved most was when you tugged on his hair in a death grip. The sore scalp and minor headaches he’d endure later on were so worth it.

So, as you raked your nails down his arm, Bradley just grunted against your neck, driving himself impossibly deeper into your inviting walls. “Yeah,” he breathed out, lifting his head so his lips brushed against yours. “I’m close, too, baby.” 

After doing this with you for nearly half a year, Bradley knew your body like the back of his hand. He knew how to get you off in every way possible, and he knew when you were close to that sweet peak of relief. 

Using the hand that wasn’t keeping him propped up above you, he presses the pad of his middle finger against your clit, which was still swollen from when he went down on you earlier. 

The added stimulation had you crying out, your fingers tightening in his hair as you came for the second time since you arrived at his house. “There you go, give it to me,” he muttered and his words somehow managed to prolong your high. “So good, letting me fuck you when we’re supposed to be with our friends.” 

As he continued to fuck into your warm and inviting core, you keep your hand tangled tightly in his hair and tug a bit harder, knowing that it would add to his pleasure. 

You were right, as he groaned against your mouth, a mantra of “Fuck,” leaving his kiss swollen lips when he came.

He fucks his release deeper into you, your greedy walls taking everything he gave, before he comes to a stop and lays his body gently down on top of yours. 

You release his hair and softly massage the top of his head, smoothing out the messy strands. As you bask in the afterglow, Bradley presses kisses to your bruised skin, a faint smirk on his lips at the sight of your hickey covered neck.

“I’m gonna miss this for the next six weeks,” he confessed and you had to calm your racing heart before it jumped to any conclusions.  

“What? Fucking me?” You ask with a quiet laugh, moving your hand to trace your fingers along his sweaty shoulder. 

“Fucking you,” he confirmed with a nod, making your smile fade a bit as he continued, “Kissing you, falling asleep with you in my arms. Just you in general.”

That made your smile reappear, and you moved his head so he was looking into your eyes. “You’re going to miss me? Or my body?” 

Bradley pressed a chaste kiss to your lips. “You,” he answered before he was standing up and holding his hand out to you. “Come on.”

You take his hand and let him pull you up and off of his comfy bed. “Where are we going?”

He steadies you in his arms, a proud smirk on his lips at your inability to stand up on your own because of the number he did on you. “Since we’re already half an hour late, why don’t we make our friends wait a bit longer?” 

You smile up at him, letting him guide you towards his bathroom. “What did you have in mind?”

He kisses you deeply, his free hand tangling into your messy hair. “Come join me in the shower and find out,”

-

You and Bradley showed up a whole hour after your promised arrival time, but neither of you cared too much.

After your shower, you complained that you didn’t have anything you needed at his house, and his reply was one that you were still thinking about now, “You know, it’d be a lot easier if you just kept some of your stuff at my place. You’re here all the time, yet you’re still always unprepared for these kinds of things,” he was referring to your complaint that all of your makeup was at your house, and you had just scrubbed your face clean of the natural look you applied before you got there.

“What, you’re okay with me keeping my makeup all over your bathroom counter so I can reapply it once you’re done fucking it off me?” You had asked, half joking and half totally serious. 

“I don’t care, I’m barely in there, anyway. The room could use some personality,” was his response, and it had your mind thinking about things you didn’t usually allow yourself to dwell on for too long. 

Nearly six months you’ve been sleeping with him. Six months. 

And it’s been five months since you broke rule number one and fell for him. 

It was simple, easy, casual. 

You started out as nothing. You were a friend of Jake’s, and that in itself was a surprise, so it wasn’t much of a shock when he invited you to go with him to the Hard Deck. When Bradley arrived at the bar a few minutes after you and Jake did, he didn’t pay much attention to the girl under the blond’s arm.

Jake was definitely a ladies man, so to see him with his hand wrapped around a girl’s waist wasn’t all that surprising. He played pool with Nat for a bit before making his way over to the bar, barely acknowledging Jake as he ordered a beer. “Hey, Rooster!” The man greeted, his own beer sloshing around in the glass as he moved towards him. 

“Hangman,” Bradley muttered, hoping Penny would hurry up and hand him his drink. 

“I want to introduce you to my friend, Y/n,” 

That had Bradley turning his head in slight curiosity, a little shocked to hear that the girl currently stuck to his side was only a friend. When his eyes meet yours, his stoic expression drops. 

You were beautiful, to put it simply. 

He sweet talked his way into getting you to play pool with him, and later ended the night with you sprawled out on the back seat of his Bronco. He found himself under you, on top of you and in you several nights out of the week after that, and now the whole arrangement was about to be hitting the half a year mark. 

It started out casual; he’d be there when you needed him, and you’d be there when he needed you. 

The decision to not label it was a mutual one as you both believed it would be the best way to go about things. 

Only a month in was when you offered to sleep together without protection. You confessed that he was currently the only person you were seeing, and he also admitted that he wasn’t sleeping with anyone else as well. 

As the months went on, Bradley began getting more affectionate with you, especially in public and in front of the other guys. While you were sure you were falling for him, he had also been acting as if he was more than just a friend with benefits. 

He offered you to sleep over every time you found yourself underneath him well into the night, and he woke you up each day with a good morning kiss and smile.

He lets you wear his clothes, use the appliances in his kitchen and even asks you to stay for dinner most nights. 

All in all, he was the perfect boyfriend, but he wasn’t your boyfriend. He just acted like it. 

There was a bit of an age difference, with you being twenty five and him pushing thirty five. While he had never explicitly said it bothered him, and he sure as hell never acted like he had a problem with it, you assumed that was why he had yet to make it official with you. 

You weren’t reading too much into this, right? You couldn’t be. 

He was all over you when you were around, and texted you constantly when you were away from him. He wanted you to feel comfortable wearing his clothes, didn’t care if you ate the leftovers he was saving, and had told you on more than one occasion to start keeping some of your things at his house. 

And you had started to, kind of. 

Your phone charger was plugged in next to his, a few of your shirts and jeans were currently in the washing machine along with his own, and your beloved hoodie you got from your uni days had a seemingly permanent place on the left side of his bed.

There was no way you had been given the wrong impression, right?

Right?

As soon as you entered the crowded bar, your face makeup free and one of his old vintage shirts tucked into your jean shorts, Bradley was pulling you with him to where Nat stood next to the pool table. “Hey, Rooster,” she greeted as she handed him a cue, nodding in your direction. “Rooster’s girlfriend.”

You expected him to correct her, but he surprised you by just shaking his head and laughing quietly, pulling you closer to his side. Your face heated up as you met Jake’s eyes from across the room, and he smiled as he waved you over to where he was sitting at the bar. 

“Hey, I’ll be back in a sec,” you tell Bradley, and he leans down so he could hear you better in the loud bar. “I’m going to go get a drink, you want one?”

“Just one,” he answered before placing a kiss on your lips. “Hurry back so you can watch me kick Nat’s ass.”

Nat slapped his arm as you walked away, a dumb grin on your lips as you made your way to the bar. Jake welcomed you over with an arm around your shoulders and a kiss to your cheek. 

“Hey, Jake,” you say as you rest your hand on his chest. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” he answered, eyeing something behind you with a sly smirk. “Don’t look now, but your guy friend is glaring at me as if you’re his girlfriend or something.” 

Despite his words, you turn and look at Bradley anyway. His brown eyes were on the two of you, furrowed and clouded over with what you think is jealousy. You held back a forming grin, your face heating up at the fact that he was getting jealous at the sight of you with another guy. Maybe it made you seem selfish, but you loved that he didn’t want you to be around other guys in the way you are currently with Jake. 

“He does realize that I’m the one who introduced him to you, right?” The blond asks and you just shake your head, leaning over the bar and ordering two beers. “You’re not official, right?”

You clench your jaw at the reminder and shake your head, “No,”

Jake takes a swig of beer as he runs his hand up and down your back in a friendly kind of gesture. “Then I don’t understand why he’s coming over here right now,”

At that, you turn just in time to see Bradley step into your space, his hand on your arm as he tugged you away from Jake. “Hands to yourself, Hangman,” he says coldly, eyeing the other man with a suspicious glance. “We both know I’m the one who’s taking her home after this.” 

His words dripped with a sense of possessiveness, and the whole thing had a surge of lust flow through your body. “My intentions are pure, Rooster,” Jake winked at the two of you as Bradley pulled you into his side. “You don’t need to worry about me.” 

“Is that right?” Bradley questioned but didn’t really care for the answer. 

“Relax, Bradley,” you murmur, handing him one of the beers. He didn’t take his eyes off Jake as he blindly took it from you, the cool bottle a nice contrast against his heated skin. “I came here with you, remember? That means I’m leaving with you, too.”

That had him meeting your eyes with a proud smirk on his lips, seemingly satisfied with your words. He gives Jake an over exaggerated shrug before pulling you along with him. “Later, Hangman,”

He tugged you over to the pool table once again, his hand sliding from your arm to your hip, where he squeezed slightly. You settle against his side, this position feeling more like where you were supposed to be than just an embrace. 

Staying true to his word, Bradley took you back home a few hours later, and you spent the rest of the night wrapped around him in more ways than one, and giving in to his quiet plead of, “Stay with me tonight,”

It was the fifth night in a row he’s asked you to do that, and the fifth time you’ve said yes without hesitation. 

-

The next morning, Bradley woke you up by going down on you until he had you coming twice. He didn’t ask you to return the favor, simply muttering something about “Needing his fix to start the day,” 

You help him pack any last minute things, before driving him to the dock in your car. This would be his second deployment since this whole ordeal started, and this time you were completely in love with him. You weren’t sure how you would cope with not seeing him for six weeks, and you wanted him to know that you’d be thinking about him the whole time he was gone. 

As you stood with him on the dock, you gazed up into his brown eyes with a sense of longing. “Thanks for coming with me this time,” he spoke quietly, making you grin up at him. 

The first deployment was just two weeks into your situationship, and since you weren’t really all too familiar with everything that made up the marvel of a man named Bradley Bradshaw, you stayed home and sent him a simple text that wished him luck.  

“Of course,” you reply, inching closer to him when his hands found home on your waist. Your eyes trailed over the scars on his cheek, and you refrained from reaching out to trace them with your finger. “I’m going to be thinking about you every single day, you know.”

This was it.

Bradley smiled down at you, leaning in and running his nose along the edge of your jaw. “You will?” He hummed, pressing various kisses to the marks he had left on your neck the night prior. When you nodded, he pulled back and took your chin between his thumb and index finger, guiding your lips to his in a lingering kiss. “I bet I know what part of me you’ll miss most.”

He was teasing you, but you were about to put your heart in the palm of his hand. “I’ll miss all of you,” 

Bradley grinned and took you into his arms in a tight embrace. “I’ll miss you, too,”

From his hunched over position, your mouth was right next to his ear, meaning he was at the perfect height for you to whisper, “I think I’m falling for you,” 

There it was.

You had given him your heart. It was his to take, and you supposed it was also his to break, as it was like a switch flipped inside him.

His body tensed against yours, and you immediately regret ever opening your mouth. Before you could take your words back, Bradley pulls away and keeps his hands on your waist as he mutters, “What?”

You felt your eyes burn instantly, your lower lip threatening to quiver as you stared up at him. “I..” You weren’t sure what to say. You had clearly mistaken your role in his life, and you wished you had never said anything. You had completely fucked things up. But there was no going back now. “I’m falling for you, Bradley.” 

His eyes flicker between yours before he stands back up to his full height. “That’s what I thought you said,” he muttered under his breath. You feel your heart fall as he steps away from you, his arms dropping back to his sides. “Fuck, I wish you didn’t tell me that.”

You quickly begin building walls up around your heart as you stand your ground, swallowing harshly as you ask, “Why not?” 

Bradley’s eyes turn cold as he answers you, “Because that wasn’t what this was supposed to be,”

It was as if that was the most obvious answer in the world. 

You shake your head and wrap your arms around yourself, glancing around at the many people who were sending their loved ones off with sad smiles and hugs. “I’m sorry. I can’t help how I feel, Bradley,” you say quietly and he just scoffs. 

“We were just having fun, Y/n,” he says and grabs his bag that he had set down on the dock when you arrived. He slings it over his shoulder and places his aviators over his eyes. “That’s all this was. You’re ten years younger than me, what did you think was going to happen here? We’re in two different places in our lives, and I thought that was obvious.”

You break eye contact as the first of many tears begin to fall. “It wasn’t,” was all you managed to say before he was sighing heavily and backing away from you. 

“If that’s the case, sorry for leading you on,” he said as he turned and began walking up the ramp. He had only walked about four steps before he stopped with a heavy sigh. He turned to glance back at you, seeing that you hadn’t moved from your spot, and you hadn’t taken your eyes off the wooden dock below you. “Look, I don’t want to leave it like this, but I need to go. I’ll call you if I can, okay? We’ll talk more about it when I come back.”

You just nod, not bothering to lift your head and meet his eyes.

Without another word being shared between the two of you, Bradley steps onto the carrier deck and waits to be shipped off. Though he knows he shouldn’t, he glances up at the dock and his heart falls at what he saw. 

You were still where he left you, but that was when he finally caught sight of the tears that were steadily rolling down your face. You did a pretty good job at hiding them when he was right next to you, but now that he was far away, you had lifted your head and he was given a clear view of your pretty face as you cried. 

He realized then that he had royally fucked up, and he needed to make things right before he left for a month and a half. 

Bradley watched as an elderly woman gently placed her hand on your arm, surely thinking that you were crying because you were sad about having to say goodbye to your loved one, when in reality he had just broken your heart. 

As you began making your way through the crowd and towards your car, he cursed under his breath and fumbled around in his bag for his phone, regret filling his body as he clicked on your contact. 

He watched as you stopped walking through the crowd and pulled out your phone, and to his surprise, you actually answered. “What?” You sounded so sad, and it only made him further regret the words he said to you.

It wasn’t even the truth, and he hoped you would give him the chance to explain that to you. He needed to be quick, though, because he knew he would quickly lose service once the carrier started moving. “Baby, I’m sorry,” he rasped out, his heart skipping a beat when he saw the way you turned to look over at him. He tried to meet your eyes as he continued, “I’m sorry, okay? Let’s talk about this now.”

You furrow your brows and shake your head. “There’s nothing to talk about, Bradley,”

“Yes, there is,” he insisted, feeling his heart drop once the carrier started to pull away from the dock. 

“There’s not,” you muttered. “I mistook my place, disrespected your boundaries and that’s on me. Completely my fault.”

“No, that’s- no,” he begged but he knew he didn’t have enough time to get through to you. “Please, just, wait for me. I’ll call you as soon as I can, we’ll talk and-”

“And what, Bradley?” You cut him off. “You said it yourself; I’m too young for you. Too immature. It’s best if we just end this now so we can both stop wasting our time.”

“You’re not a waste of time,” he said quickly, watching as your form slowly began to disappear the further he drifted away from you. “I’ve loved every second I’ve spent with you, and I think I’m-” 

Before he could also give you his heart, you had broken it with a simple sentence, “You’re cutting out,” and you were, too, but somehow your last few words were crystal clear. “I know where we stand now. Goodbye, Bradley.”

And then you hung up. And he was left to drop his hand back down to his side in defeat as he silently prayed he was able to call you within the next few days. 

-

A whopping six hours had passed since Bradley had been shipped off when he found himself missing you. 

His arms ached to be wrapped around you, his lips missed the taste of yours, and his heart longed with a sense of need to know that you would still be his once he returned home. 

His.

Bradley had to laugh. 

You weren’t his.

He hadn’t managed to step up and ask you to take things to the next level yet before he was ruining everything. He hadn’t given a possible real relationship with you a chance.

God, he was so mean, belittling you as if you deserved to be treated with anything other than respect and kindness. He acted like a proper asshole, and he deserved to feel all the things he felt right now. 

Shame. Guilt. Regret. Anger. He felt all of it all at once, and he hated himself for hurting you.

Had he known the sad sight of you crying because of him was all he needed to get his act straight, he would’ve told you he loved you when you confessed to falling for him back on the dock. 

Bradley loves you. Why did it take losing you for him to realize that?

A couple weeks passed before he was allowed the opportunity to call you, and as he put your number in, he found himself praying to anyone that may have been listening that you would answer. 

He felt a little more than deflated when it rang five times before he was sent to your voicemail. He listened to your sweet voice ask him to leave you a message, and he did, but he also knew you wouldn’t be able to call him back once you listened to the message.

If you listened to it at all.

“Hey, sweet girl. I… God, I wish you picked up, but I understand why you didn’t. A few weeks ago…fuck, I was so out of line, baby, and I’m sorry for that. I didn’t mean what I said. I didn’t mean any of it, I’m just a fucking idiot when it comes to this kind of thing and I threw all my issues on you, and you didn’t deserve that,” Bradley waited a beat or two before he continued, “I’m so sorry. I miss you, and I know I have no right to ask this of you, but I hope I can see you on the day I get back to San Diego. I only have just under a month to go, and I can’t wait to see you and talk about this in person, if you’ll let me.”

He felt pathetic, leaving you a sappy message you couldn’t even reply to. 

“I’m sorry, again, and I hope things have been going well for you,” he ended the message after that, reluctantly hanging up and returning back to his bunk, where he threw himself down on the bed that felt too empty without you by his side. 

-

It went on like that for weeks. 

Bradley would go to sleep, wake up, complete whatever he needed to do for the day, then do it all over again, all while thinking about you. 

He was counting down the days until he was able to return home and back to you, but he wasn’t sure he even had the right to seek you out once he was off the carrier. 

He had called you again a few days ago, and you had once again given him your voicemail. Two calls in, and it was silent on your end. He missed you terribly, missed your flowery scent, your kind smiles, your voice, and the feeling of your body tucked against his. 

Yeah, he missed the sex, but he missed you more. All of you. 

You were so close to being his. You had put your heart on your sleeve, completely his for the taking, and he rejected you. Like a fucking idiot. 

He knew he would get an earful from Nat once he got back, and he was honestly looking forward to it. He knew he deserved it, and he couldn’t think of a better person to call him out on his bullshit than his best friend. 

Another week flew by after he successfully completed his mission, and he was a few quick hours away from the same dock he had left you on a month and a half ago. 

While he didn’t expect you to be there to greet him once he stepped off the carrier, he still felt his heart break a bit as he finally let it all sink in. A few feet from where he stood now, he had broken your heart.

He dropped his bag onto the dock below him as he pulled his phone out and called you, once again disappointed when he was sent to your voicemail. Before he could stop himself, he left you a message, “Hey, it’s me. I’m back home now, and I still really want to see you. I want to try to explain myself and why I said the things I did. I’m still so sorry, Y/n/n, really, I am,” he ended it after that, and used the last bit of battery he had left to call Nat in hopes she would come and pick him up. 

Like he expected, Nat did end up chewing him out during the entire ride home, and even in his own driveway. Bradley just sat there and took it, knowing he deserved every harsh dig that was thrown at him and more. 

When she angrily reached over and hugged him in the car, she promptly told him to get out and that she would see him later at the Hard Deck. 

Bradley unlocked the front door and stepped into his house, the silence being the last thing he wanted to be met with. You were in your twenties, you were young and loud and cheerful, he had gotten so used to how chaotic his life had become since you entered it. It was chaotic in the best way, and he missed the loud laughs you would emit as he carried you down the hall to his room, or when the two of you would skip out on beers with your friends to watch a comedy in his living room instead. 

He sulked his way to his room, and his heart deflated even more at the sight he was met with. Nat had gone on about how she had to use the key Bradley gave her to let you into his house while he was away, and how she was confused about that until now. 

Gone was your phone charger and old movies you kept by the TV he had on his dresser, and he was sure your clothes in his laundry room were picked up as well. The left side of his bed was bare of your uni hoodie, a thing he had a strong amount of fondness for.

Coming home to a quiet house was one thing, but walking into a bedroom that lacked any personality at all was something else. The small things you kept in there made it appear more lived in, more cared for than he had ever tried to make it look, and he once again was reminded just how much he had fucked up.

You made him happy, were the reason he looked forward to the end of his days because it would likely mean he would end them with you, like he had been for the good part of the last six months.

Bradley let out a frustrated sigh as he threw his bag onto the bed. He plugged his phone in before heading into the bathroom, his eyes glancing at the spotless counter. A few of your face washes and creams had taken up space next to the sink the last time he was in here, but now they were gone too. 

He quickly realized how much he loved having your things at his house. God, did he miss you. 

After the quickest shower of his life, Bradley got dressed in jeans and a Hawaiian shirt and unplugged his phone. It had only been charged up to thirty four percent, but he didn’t plan on going on the device too much once he arrived at the Hard Deck.

He grabbed his keys and wallet before he started up his beloved Bronco, typing out a quick text to you in hopes you’d actually answer him this time.

You’re ignoring me and that’s fine, but I hope I’ll be able to see you at the Hard Deck tonight? If not, maybe we can meet up later and I can explain everything to you. Please. I don’t want it to end like this.

He didn’t want it to end at all, but especially not with you thinking you weren’t all he could ever want. 

To his surprise, you had actually gotten back to him pretty fast, and your response had him quickly backing out of his driveway and speeding down the road towards the Hard Deck. 

Y/n/n: Seems as though luck is on your side today. Glad you’re back home and safe. I guess I’ll see you tonight.

[ohtobeleah]

Need more of Terms of Endearment. Plz and thank xx

Warnings // Rooster x F!Reader. Hangman x Platonic!F!Reader. Mentions of Alcohol consumption and physical assault.

Masterlist

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“What the hell are you playing at Hangman?” Rooster questioned as he dried his hair roughly with the towel that had recently been tucked around his waist. A fresh pair of jeans now adorning his hips.

“I'm playing matchmaker–” Hangman was quick to respond as he sat the car seat down on the bench in the locker room. Tapping the top of it twice with a shit eating grin. “Fe asked me to drop this off before you go.” Rooster hadn’t even thought about the car seat. God his Bronco was not built to harbour a car seat. “She also told me to tell you that she’ll call when she's leaving the workshop.”

“Id ask if you hit that bird on purpose but I know you wouldn’t be stupid enough to risk ruining a multi million dollar jet on the grounds of setting me up with your roomie.” You and your little girl Dot had been living off base with Jake since you arrived in North Island in the middle of the night, running for what was essentially life or death. You wouldn't have come to Jake if you had any other choice–not one for handouts or charity, so when he was opening his door in the middle of the night, bat in hand because who the fuck was trying to bang his god damn door down in the middle of the fucking night–he was softening instantly.

“I have nowhere else to go–” You sobbed as Jake dropped the bat to the ground just barely missing his own foot. Completely and wholeheartedly accepting you and your crying daughter into his humble abode. He wasn’t blind, nor did he have a deviated septum. He saw the bruises and smelt the absurd amount of liquor on your breath. The way you clung to your daughter like she was your entire word made Jake hold his tongue. Pressing it into the side of his cheek as he let his chin rest on top of your head. It had to have been bad if you drove in the state you were in.

“Uh, I prefer stowaway–actually.” Jake teased as he watched Rooster throw his shirt over his head. “She needed a push—“

“I know what I’m doing man, I don’t need you interfering with my love.” Rooster huffed, he honestly didn’t mind playing the long game with you. He knew winning you over slowly would be worth it in the long run. He wasn’t all that sure of what you had been through—both you and Jake liked to keep that information under lock and key. But Bradley knew, he knew you were worth the wait, the work, the effort it would take to break your walls down brick by brick.

“Your love life is nonexistent Bradshaw I’m doing you a favour here!” Jake was no stranger to bringing home beautiful women, but ever since you and little Dot had been occupying his spare room? He had become more and more selective about the type he brought home. “And honestly, I’m just about sick of having to explain the children’s toys lying around whenever I bring someone home—“

“So this isn’t about Y/n at all then?” Rooster scoffed as he shook his head in utter disbelief. “This is about you wanting her out of your place.” Rooster had never actually strapped an infant's car seat into his car before. Picking up the capsule he marched out of the locker room into the hall, Hangman right on his tail. “I don't know what your thought process is man, but getting me to pick up Dot isn’t gonna have Y/n outta your house any quicker.”

The first time Bradley met you, he'd been tasked with finding out why Hangman was late for work. The cocky fighter pilot with the big ass egomaniacal smile and even bigger shit eating grin was usually if anything early. But the day Bradley first met you? It had been two hours since the first flight and Coyote was about ready to trade out his wingman. Patient had worn very thin. There’d been no calls and texts from Jake, no excuse or reason for his absence.

“Bagman!” Rooster was banging down Jake's front door incessantly. Huffing when there was no response. “Jake man you good?” He never stopped knocking. It’s what had woken you from what felt like your final resting spot on the lounge in the living room. The morning after Jake had taken you in. “SERESIN!” Roosters knuckles didn't meet hardwood when you swung the door open. Almost connecting with your already bruised and battered face as you held the door open.

“Fuck off!” Bradley Bradshaw had never been so taken aback in his life. “Stop knocking its rattling my fucking brain.” Rubbing your eyes as you yawned, stepping back to let whoever it was that wanted your brother so desperately into the house that would soon become a home. “Jakes upstairs–” At the mere mention of his name, Jake Seresin was barreling down the stars still doing up his flight suit. He knew he’d fucked up, but he’d been up with you all night holding your hair out of your face while you cried and threw up the content of your stomach. Dot in his lap crying in hysterics because she hadn’t slept a wink either. He’d only just work up after having slept like a log through his alarm.

“Dude—I’m fucked aren’t I?” Jake groaned as he tried slipping his work issued steel caps on.

“Who's the walking corpse?” Rooster asked as he watched you fall back onto the lounge, your ass on full display for him as you rolled over and pulled up the blanket Jake had given you. You were so plastered that the pain of your hangover hadn’t even set in yet. Jake was right, maybe he should have taken you to get your stomach pumped last night, but he was confident you'd thrown enough up that it wasn't a life threatening amount. “She's wearing your TopGun shirt–” Raising a questioning eyebrow, Rooster turned back to Jake. “You let strays stay the night now do you?”

“She's my sister.” Bradley heard the way Jake said it with a sigh, like he was almost disappointed. Jake could never be disappointed having you as a sister, but he was disappointed in a few of the choices you made that led you to this moment. Hungover, on his lounge with your daughter still asleep upstairs. You hadn’t been coherent enough last night to watch over her. Jake had stepped in. “Shows up on my doorstep last night, believe it or not she was in a worse state than this.”

“And the bruises?”

“Like I said, she showed up on my doorstep last night in a worse state than this.” Jake repeated himself as he held back tears. “I haven't really been able to get much out of her besides vomit.”

“Why haven't you ever told me you have a sister?” Rooster knew it was probably a stupid question to ask as he watched Jake fixed up the blacket that youd thrown harphazardly over yourself. “All this time we've known you and never a peep about a sibling—well, we know you have a brother but—“

“Non-biological.” Was the only answer Jake gave Bradley. “And whatever it is she’s going through it must be bad or else she wouldn’t have shown up here.”

“Yeah but if she’s occupied with you she might not be home all that much and before you know it? She’ll have approval for staff accommodation in no time.” You’d been waiting for a house for you and Odette the second you applied for a job as a technician. Jake had been the one to set you up. Your visit wasn’t meant to be permanent, but it seemed to be the safety and most secure option for you and your daughter.

“And she swears you’re an alright guy?” Rooster groaned as he unlocked his car, opening the passenger side door before placing the capsule inside. “Stay out of my love life—I don’t appreciate the meddling.”

“Fine, but I’m not making any promises to not meddle in Felix’s love life—“ Jake was quick to slightly step Bradley aside as he watched him struggling to connect the capsule car seat. “Here, you gotta loop the straps.” Rooster just stood back and took notes. How many times had Hangman actually done this? “She deserves the world and if I know anyone deserving of her? I’m looking at him.” Rooster just let the compliment Jake had gifted him sink in. Perhaps this wasn’t such a bad thing—maybe Jake was genuinely doing him a solid.

Or maybe Jake Seresin was truly just over the two year old who cock blocked him more than she’d ever know.

***~***~***~***~***~***

Odette Dolan was the light of your world. Anyone who knew you knew that you’d set fire to the rain for that little girl. And as Bradley waited at the front counter of Sunny Side preschool and after school care, he understood what that feeling felt like.

“Who are you to little Odette again, Mr. Bradshaw?” One of the early educators asked as she eyes Rooster down. Curious as ever to know who this mystery man was. You’d only ever picked Dot up. Jake had done a few scattered—but it was always you if you could help it.

“Uh—I’m whoever she needs me to be I guess.”

Roosted rubbed the back of his head nervously. “Y/n asked if I could pick her up, I was free—so why not right?” 

“Well, She had a bit of a meltdown just after lunch but since she's woken up from her nap she’s been fine—“ One of the early educators beamed as she signed Rooster in. His palms were sweaty as he rubbed them together. “I already let her know that mummy’s friend Rooster was coming to pick her up today so she didn’t get too disgruntled on pick up.”

“Routines are important, I get it.” Rooster had a soft spot for your daughter. That spot got a whole lot bigger when Dot came flying around the corner with her bag on her back, shoes on the wrong feet and a picture of a stick figure flying a plane that her early educators had helped her draw.

It was Bradley. Her Rooster.

“Hey Dot!” Rooster beamed at the little girl smashing into him as he crouched down to pick her up–swinging her up onto his hip. “Whatcha got there?” Rooster always had the all the time in the world for Odette Dolan. How a single man has so much patience and so much unconditional love for a two year old you'd never understand. But they shared a bond like no other. Jake liked to joke that Rooster and Dot bonded so well because they shared the same mental age, but you knew deep down it was because he saw a little bit of himself in her.

“Wooster–” Your little girl laid her head gently against Rooster's shoulder, her eyelids heavy as he handed him the paper. Another picasso to add to his ever growing collection of fridge drawings. Too sentimental to let fall to the wayside. His heart exploded like new years eve fireworks over Time Square every single time she’d hand him a new artwork dedicated in his honour.

“Oh for me?” Rooster raised his eyebrows in excitement as he took the piece of paper. “Woah! You’re getting so good at these, looks just like me” If Bradley were a few pounds lighter maybe.

“Mama?” Dot questioned as she looked around for where you might be. Holding your daughter a little tighter as Rooster said his thanks to the early educators before venturing outside.

“No bubba, just me—“ When Rooster placed Odette into her car seat, he double then triple checked if everything was secure. “But mama's coming soon.” For a moment Rooster just sat in his car, wondering if he should go back to his or not. Looking over at your daughter as she already started to doze off in her seat, Rooster settled his decisions.

First Stop? The Hard Deck for some take away. Second Stop? Your house, not because he didn’t trust himself to take care of a two year old. But because this specific two year old probably wanted to go home.

And who was Bradley Bradshaw to deny your daughter of anything she wanted?

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Tags: @a-serene-place-to-be @lilyevanswhore @thescarletknight2014

[rebelliousstories]

Cranberry

25 Days of Ficmas

Relationship: Pete “Maverick” Mitchell x Reader

Fandom: Top Gun

Request: No

Warnings: Fluff, Mentions of Death, Light Angst

Word Count: 2,100

Masterlist: Here

Summary: A certain unusual flavor that has held a special spot in the Mitchell and Bradshaw family every Christmas.

Christmas 1985

“Alright! I’m here! I’m here! I’ve got the goods!” Pete’s loud voice rang out into the government issued housing known as, the Bradshaw abode. A two foot tall blur came barreling towards his knees, and it was only a split second decision that still kept them in tack. He grabbed the youngest Bradshaw and hoisted him hip on to his hip.

“Uncle Pete!” Bradley exclaimed, hugging his favorite uncle. The man hugged him close, never once letting go of the boy or the bags in his hand.

“Hey bud! Oh, I missed you.” His words were music to the woman’s ears as a certain blonde haired lady rounded the corner.

“Pete!” Carol exclaimed, piling on to the hug that was started without her. Maverick took one arm and wrapped it around her, while pressing a brotherly kiss to her cheek.

“Hey Carol.” Pete took a deep breath in, finally enjoying being able to relax a bit with his closest friends.

“Oh, so this is where everyone went.” One more set of arms piled on to the group hug and encompassed them all.

“Hi sweetie.” Pete teased at his taller friend.

“Hiya hun.” Nick threw back at him. The one great thing about their friendship, is that each one could give as good as they got. But they were there to enjoy time as a family. Slowly but surely, each layer peeled away to reveal the bags that were still in Pete’s hands.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. Should’ve taken these first, Pete. Here let me get those.” Carol tried to reach for the bags, but Maverick went head and stepped towards the kitchen to set them down. As he did, he felt Bradley being pulled from his arms by Goose, allowing him to move freely.

“I got it, Carol. Just tell me where you want stuff.” He offered, watching the woman fight every bone in her body not to take over.

“I just… well, alright.” While Carol and Maverick were busy in the kitchen, Bradley and Goose were busy playing with each other in the living room. A huge tree sat in the corner, complete with lights, ornaments, garland and other pretty decorations. It provided endless hours of entertainment as Bradley was still so little. He was amazed by the lights and colors coming from the tree.

Meanwhile in the kitchen, Pete and Carol were having a blast doing the last minute preparations for their big Christmas dinner. Turning the giant turkey in the oven and basting it, toasting up some Hawaiian rolls, making the side dishes, and most importantly making the cranberry sauce. It was the one thing that Carol always insisted on making from scratch herself. An old family recipe that had been passed down for generations. It had become a staple of any holiday meal, or even one made on special occasions.

The family sat down for their meal, and Carol set the cranberry sauce delicately down on their table. For the rest of the night, there was conversation, laughter and entertainment in general. The cranberry sauce was always the highlight of the meal. No one was allowed to know exactly what or how much of anything was put into the sauce, but none of them cared. No one cared what she put in the sauce, only that it was delicious and a staple of their table.

//

Christmas 2020

“Babe! I’m back from the store. I got everything you needed.” A feminine voice rang out, carrying bags into the home. Pete wiped his hands down on a rag before stepping out into the foyer to help her with them.

“Thank you for getting these, dear. It really helped.” Maverick grabbed majority of the bags and pressed a loving kiss to his partners lips, before moving to the kitchen to prepare the very last thing they had to make. An old, and worn recipe card laid on the counter amongst all the ingredients that they needed for this particular dish.

“You’re welcome, Mav. Do you need or want any help?” She wrapped her arms around his body and pressed another kiss in between his shoulder blades. Maverick pressed his hands to her arms, yet shook his head.

“No, I got this. You go ahead and get ready for company. I’ll take care of this.” And with that, Maverick stayed in the kitchen while his lover went off to go get ready. He tried to follow the recipe as closely as he could, but these were written in not quite so accurate measurements. Finally, he understood when she used to say, “southern measurements.” It confused him to no end. A pinch, a smidge, a helping; these did not make sense. How much were each of them? By the time he finished the batch, his lover appeared from their bedroom, looking refreshed and festive in her brilliant red sweater.

“Mav, you okay honey?” Her hands trailed up his arms while he was standing over the pot on the stove.

“Will you taste this?” Pete gave the spoon with a small helping of the sauce to her lips. When she tasted it though, her face scrunched up in displeasure.

“How is it both too sweet and too salty?” She questioned, staring at the offensive cranberry sauce.

“I don’t know. I can’t understand these measurements so it didn’t turn out like I had hoped.” Maverick admitted, thrusting the card in front of her eyes. They scanned over the card and turned to her partner with a certain mischievous grin.

“Would you like me to help?” She teased, already getting to work on restarting their work station.

“If you think you can do better, be my guest.” He waved his arm to the mess he had made. She worked to first clean and dispose of the cranberries that had been used already, before setting up to try again.

As she read the recipe card, and followed the corresponding instructions, Pete was suddenly thrust back to all those years ago. Every Christmas and Thanksgiving where he watched Carol move around the kitchen to make this simple dish. He had a hard time shaking the memories of Carol and her loud, obnoxious singing that would inevitably bring him and Goose into. The way she would dance with Nick in the kitchen as she finished up their meals, or after them.

His mind blended them together, unable to discern one from the next. It brought him a sense of comfort that he had not felt since her untimely death. She seemed to understand the writings on the small piece of paper, as her movements never slowed preparing the dish. Turning off the stove, she set the pot off to the side to cool and grabbed a new spoon to scoop out a bit of the sauce to try. She blew on it to cool it down even faster and after several attempts to eat it, it was finally the perfect temperature for her to sample. Letting out a pleased hum, she grabbed another spoon and gave it to Maverick. He, too, stuck it in the cooling pot, and blew on it a few times before bringing it to his lips to enjoy. But he could not enjoy it. All that he could do was keep tears at bay. Noticing her lover bent over the counter with the heels of his palms in his eyes, she set her spoon down and wrapped her arms around the pilot.

“Mav, what’s wrong?” She asked, and he heard, but he could not bring any words to his lips.

“Pete?” She pried once more, and got an embrace in return. The man had turned around and brought her into his arms, while placing his head into the crook of her neck. There was no noise from the man, but there was a wet spot slowly forming on her sweater from where his head laid. She did not try to get him to talk anymore, just stroked a hand through his hair and over his back as he worked through whatever he was feeling at the moment. His tears slowed, as did the shake in his shoulders, to a point where he felt comfortable enough to pull his head from her neck. Pete wiped his hands across his face, trying desperately to remove the evidence of tears, however her hands caught the few stragglers that were still falling.

“I’m sorry. That just… that tastes exactly like how Carol made it every year. And your mannerisms are so similar in the kitchen. I’m sorry.” Tears welled up in Maverick’s eyes, but none dared fall. That was until she returned her hands to his face to cup it so gingerly.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Mav. It’s okay to miss her. It’s okay to still hurt when you think about her.” She assured him, stroking gently over his cheeks. Pete grabbed her hands in his, and turned to place a soft kiss to each palm, before taking the hands from his face and holding her close.

“Thank you.” He whispered, leaning in to steal a kiss straight from the source. She wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders, and enjoyed the feeling of closeness with her lover before they both were drawn away by the sound of a door opening. Turning in his arms, the couple watched a young mustachioed pilot walk through the door, taking off his boots, and removing his sunglasses.

“Mav?” He called out. The couple turned back to each other, and disengaged to go greet the man. Bradley stood in a Christmas patterned Hawaiian shirt, which Maverick was shocked he could even find but he guessed anything was possible with the internet now. Once the couple came into view, the woman ran up and greeted him.

“Bradley! So good to have you here.” She hugged him close, and he allowed himself the small bit of affection.

“Good to be here, Mrs. M.” He responded, only drawing back when she did.

“Bradley.” Pete now greeted, with a handshake, but that quite got drawn into a hug as well.

“Uncle Pete.” Both men knew what he said, but neither dwelled on it for too long. They pulled away as well, and went to the table. Both men grabbed plates of food, and set them down on the table. However, Bradley was stunned to notice the homemade cranberry sauce on the table. It looked so similar to-

“Alright, boys. Dig in.” Everyone went to work plating and serving themselves the bountiful feast before them. The couple placed a little bit of cranberry sauce on their plates, but when Pete passed the dish to Bradley, he refused.

“Sorry. I don’t like cranberry sauce.” He dismissed the plate that was still in the older pilot’s grip.

“Just try it, Bradley. Trust me.” Thy stared into each other’s eyes for a moment, before the younger pilot took the dish from Maverick, and dished some onto his plate. The couple watched Rooster as he tore off a chunk of bread and reluctantly ate the cranberry sauce on his plate; wanting to get it out of the way to hopefully wash down the store bought taste with the rest of his food. But this did not taste store bought. This tasted homemade. This tasted exactly like the cranberry sauce he ate growing up when his mom was still alive.

He could not believe what was in front of him now. In disbelief, he stared at Pete, who simply nodded his head with a wide grin plastered on his face. Turning, Pete’s lover was staring nervously at the man, hoping she did it justice.

“Did you make this?” Rooster whispered, fearing if he raised his voice even a little bit, that he would break whatever spell this one little dish had over him.

“Mav found an old recipe card that your mom had when she would make this. He tried to make it but he can’t read southern measurements like a woman can.” She joked, jabbing her eyes towards said man teasingly. Bradley vaguely heard a, “they’re so confusing,” and “not real measurements,” from the man, but his ears were rushing, drowning out all sound. Eventually, he took another bite, and another, and another, till there was no more sauce on his plate. It tasted like home. A home he had lost and never found his way back to yet.

“Thank you.” Bradley looked the woman in the eyes, hoping that his sincerity came across as much as he felt it. She rubbed his shoulder from here she sat, and everyone turned back to their meal.

[junkdrawerfics]

Promise Kept (Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Reader)

This is an abo fic so if you don’t like don’t read! (no spice)

Summary: Reader is an omega aviator who has fought tooth and nail to be where she is. She never gave alphas the time of day, until Bradley Bradshaw walked into her life. Even then, she can’t bring herself to let him all the way in, until one night, after a fight with Hangman leaves her with too many doubts to ignore.

Warnings: none really, it gets a little saucy, but doesn’t go past some intense-ish making out. Some internalized prejudice.

word count: 6036 (ended up being kind of a slow burn)

Society had come a long way with how omegas were treated. No longer considered second class citizens, or fragile glass creatures in need of protection, they were treated just like everyone else practically everywhere. Practically.

As always, nothing is perfect. Some people still hold to their prejudice, much like how some women still face sexism, regardless of their secondary gender. For some reason, you just weren’t expecting to come face to face with it in the Navy. Perhaps you should have.

Being an omega, and a woman, meant you had to fight tooth and nail for every sliver of perception you could. In the academy, that meant studying every night and giving up all aspects of a social life to be at the top of the class. It meant long nights spent at the gym after studying, beating your body into a muscular shape, which was no simple task. No one ever told you how difficult it would be to keep your physique as an omega, something about your body being adapted to be softer, rounder, more protective. The odds never phased you, though. You wouldn’t have joined the Navy if they did.

And it worked. You bested everyone academically, and stood your ground in training against the alphas and betas. You weren’t the first omega to pass through the academy, but they all acted like you were, which only stoked the fire in you more, a fire that had been in you since you were young. Always push back. Don’t step down for anyone. Prove that you deserve to be there. Prove them wrong.

When you joined the Navy as an aviator, you started on your suppressants and never let up on your training. Even at that point, when everyone said you’d made it, when your parents urged you to take it slow, go out, meet people (‘an alpha’ was barely hidden in their tone), you didn’t stop. You couldn’t stop. You were going to prove to the world if you had to that omegas deserved to be treated with just as much respect as alphas, and you’d fight anyone if they thought otherwise.

Hence how you end up almost killing a certain frenemy of yours. Several times.

“Hangman, if you don’t shut your trap, I’m going to shave your head in your sleep,” you snap, teeth grinding as you glare up at the taller aviator.

“Ooooh, the omega has claws.” He gives you that annoying smirk, the one that makes you want to smack him over the head with a pool stick.

That would break it though. You don’t want to put Penny out like that, so you stick to a scathing growl. Placing the stick down on the table, you notice your other friends take wary steps back as you come to stand toe to toe with the prick of a blond. Good. You wouldn’t want anyone else getting into this right now.

“Do you want to go, Bagman? See just how sharp these claws are?”

He scoffs, “We wouldn’t want you getting hurt now, would we, Widow?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Your eyes narrow.

“Look, darlin’-” The word makes your brow twitch. “-it’s just a simple fact that alphas are stronger than omegas. I’m just saying you’re no exception.”

“I could put you on the ground in less than a minute,” you growl, anger digging into your chest like a hot iron.

“Oh please, if you weren’t on suppressants, we’d be having a very different conversation right now.”

A low murmur spreads through your group, even amongst the standers-by who overhear your argument. Your jaw clicks with how hard you clench your teeth together, a dull pain thrumming up to your temple. Slowly, you tilt your chin up and square your shoulders, every aspect of your posture screaming of a dominance you shouldn’t possess, a dominance you’ve taken by force. Hangman’s gaze turns wary at the challenge.

“Oh, he’s done it now,” Phoenix murmurs, eyes dancing with barely contained amusement.

“I wouldn’t want you even if you were the last alpha on the planet,” you murmur, voice like a storm brewing out over the ocean, “You should just admit that you can’t beat me in a fight instead of resorting to being such a douchebag. It would look better.”

“You know what I think? I think it’d look better if yo-”

“Watch your mouth, Hangman.”

You bite down on a flare of frustration when a solid body steps between the two of you. Your eyes travel up, trailing over muscular arms, across broad shoulders, up to a mop of dark curls crowned by a pair of aviators and you stiffen.

Rooster.

You reluctantly take a step back, watching the two alphas glare at each other. The look in Rooster’s eyes sends your pulse racing. They burn with something fiercely protective, something utterly dark that curls low in your abdomen. Usually you’d butt back in, because you don’t need rescuing. You don’t need an alpha to protect you, nor do you want one.

But it’s always been different with Rooster, as much as you don’t want to admit it. When he comes to your defense, a deep neglected feeling crawls up your throat and practically chokes you. You’ve tried to ignore it. Tried to ignore how nice he smells, all leather and mahogany and clean linen. How his touch feels like warmth and ice and electricity all at once. Or how he looks at you like you’ve hung the stars when you win in combat, smile dripping with pride and something you don’t dare put a finger on. You can’t. You can’t, because if you do, you’re terrified that feeling will drown you, and you’ll turn into exactly the thing you don’t want to be.

So you settle for stepping back to watch, desperately clinging to the anger still simmering in your veins. Desperate to ignore the prominent veins tracing the alpha’s taut arms and the attractive edge of his clenched jaw.

He’s just an alpha. An alpha like any other. Even if he treats you like an equal. Even if he’s never been anything except respectful to you.

“What, Bradshaw? As if you don’t think the same thing?” A taunting smile returns to Hangman’s lips. “I’m just playing the part, but we all see the way you look at our favorite omega.”

Those words make you stiffen. Eyes wide, you glance up at Rooster, whose ears are tinging pink.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he denies, a warning in his tone.

“Oh really?” The blond presses, far too entertained by the reactions he’s garnering. His eyes slide to you again, and for once, you feel unsettled by the mischief you find there. “Have you noticed, (L/n)? Because I sure don’t feel like I’m imagining it.”

You don’t know how to respond. It’s like the words have tangled on your lips, like they’re anchored there, too heavy to spit out, too terrifying to face. And you hate just how weak that makes you feel.

“Just drop it, Hangman,” Rooster growls. “You’re making her uncomfortable.”

“Fine.” Jake raises his hands, that idiotic smirk still curling his lips as he takes a mock step back. “You really need to lighten up, Bradshaw. Wouldn’t want someone getting the wrong idea, since you don’t want her apparently.”

That statement settles in your gut like a rock, especially when Bradley just clenches his jaw again and doesn’t say a word.

Leave it to Hangman to stir the pot, or to set the heat until things boil over in this case. You want to throttle him, maybe deprive him of the ability to have kids, but you are far too aware of all the eyes on you, both your friends and the various strangers populating the bar. It makes you want to disappear, or yell, but neither are really an option right now.

Running away means you’re a coward, a weak little omega who can’t stand up to some bullying.

Yelling would just make you look crazy.

So once again you’re forced to settle. You drop into the seat next to Phoenix, watching Rooster take a deep, slow breath before he storms off to the bar, for a drink you presume. It seems most evenings with Hangman require some form of alcohol to make it through. Too bad you were a designated tonight, or you’d be joining him.

“You okay?” Bob, sweet beta he is, gives you the softest concerned look from across the table.

“Yeah,” you sigh, “Nights like these make me deeply question why I’m friends with that knot-head though.”

“Who else would you argue with if he weren’t around?” Phoenix laughs into her drink.

You don’t say anything in reply. Part of you wants to say that you don’t love arguing. It frustrates you more than anything, how the blond knows how to get such strong reactions from you. And it’s even worse that he always seems to do it around Rooster, which leads to moments like this, where you can’t control the ache in your heart that clashes with the fire in your veins, leaving you to burn in your own uncertainty.

The rest of the night goes on peacefully, which is likely due to the uptake of alcohol. Despite telling yourself it’s a bad idea, you can’t help but keep an eye on Rooster. The man appears to sulk a few tables over, not paying much attention to the conversation Fanboy and Pay Back keep trying to draw him into. Worry burrows deep into your chest when he switches from nursing a beer to a glass of whiskey, dark eyes lost in thought.

You wish you knew what he was thinking. You wish you could walk right over there and ask him. Pretend the evening never happened. But that uncertainty clings to you like a tick, small and irritating and impossible to tear out.

He’s an alpha.

But he’s also your best friend.

Everythings has always been different with Rooster. At first, you’d hated him. He was just another opponent, another obstacle you had to overcome to be the best. You used to bicker, much like Hangman, but he never once brought up your secondary gender. He respected you, despite all your back and forth. He treated you like an equal, something you had only experienced with Phoenix.

Then, one day, you crashed. It was an accident, an error with the plane. Apparently something was missed in the inspection before you went up. You ended up in the hospital for a few days, and when you woke up, there he was. Sitting at your bedside, somehow asleep while looking horribly uncomfortable in one of those stiff hospital chairs.

Things shifted after that.

That day you saw a new side to the aviator. He was softer, charismatic smirk replaced with the most genuine smile when he realized you were awake. It gave you pause back then. Made you doubt everything you thought about alphas. From then on, you spent most of your time together, and your arguments turned to playful banter, which turned into late night talks, which turned into phone calls when your deployment took you to different places.

It all went so fast, leaving you grasping at straws when you first noticed how your heart skips a beat when he gives you one of those soft, lopsided smiles.

But he’s an alpha.

And you still can’t face the idea of being a typical, lovestruck omega, not after an entire lifetime and trying to be anything but. What would everyone think of you? What if you fell behind? The doubt is crippling, to say the least.

So you stay at your table, nursing your own cup of lemonade, distractedly adding to a conversation with Phoenix and Bob while watching the alpha down drink after drink. Eventually he starts smiling again, laughing just a little too loud like he usually does when he’s drank too much.

“Wanna play a round, Widow?” You glance over at Hangman, who holds out a pool stick to you. A peace offering perhaps. Some of the tension leaks from your shoulders.

“No thanks, Bagman, not really in the mood to play,” you hum, though you give him the faintest smile to make sure he knows the two of you are good. He nods, too white smile on his lips as he tosses the stick to Coyote instead.

When you look back to Rooster, you freeze. He’s looking at you, for the first time since the stand-off. His eyes, such a peculiar shade of hazel and brown, are glazed over, but they burn with an intensity that makes your breath get lost somewhere in your lungs. Smile gone, it’s replaced with a look you are far too familiar with. It’s the look he gets whenever he’s trying to figure something out, how to attack, how to win, how to succeed at a certain maneuver. But it’s solely focused on you.

You meet his eyes, one brow raising in challenge. Not a single sign of submission. A soft glint sparks in his gaze, something dark and fond, as a smile pulls at the corner of his lips. You don’t back down, even as his eyes trail down, lingering for a heated second on your lips, before trailing over the exposed length of your neck and collarbone. Subconsciously, your shoulders draw up, and your eyes narrow into a glare. Rooster leans back in his seat, eyes sparkling as they trail back to meet yours. Too dark. Too warm. Too hungry.

You break away, heart suddenly in your throat. And you’re shaking. You tuck your fingers between your thighs, desperate to hide the slight tremor. You can still feel his gaze, feel it warming your skin to the point of setting a fire. For the first time in what feels like forever, a blush spreads up your neck and across your cheeks. A low chuckle sounds from a few tables down.

“I’m gonna kill him,” you grumble under your breath.

“Who?” Phoenix asks, though the smirk on her face gives away that she knows.

“Rooster,” You tell her anyway.

“Oh please, you love him. He could wreck your car and you’d still ruffle his hair like you do and forgive him,” she laughs, and Bob nods along. “He loves that by the way.”

“Huh?”

“The two of you are very oblivious,” Bob adds, which is like a punch in the gut coming from the beta.

“What do you mean?” You look between your two friends, frustration building when they merely share a look and laugh.

“Nothing, Widow. Just might be some time for a heart to heart with ‘Roo’.” She puts the nickname in air quotes, because it’s what you notoriously call him. No one else can get away with it, lest Bradshaw bite their heads off. He lets you though, and they’ve all seen the fond smile it brings to his lips. It’s so painfully obvious, to everyone except you and him apparently.

You’re about to bite back, maybe something about her and Hangman, but the sound of a sharp shuffle draws your attention away. Rooster is jostling out of his seat, slurring something about another round, but he can barely keep himself upright. With a sigh, you slip from your booth, heading towards the idiot.

“Case in point!”

You send Phoenix a glare over your shoulder, but it turns to something fond when she gives you a cheesy thumbs up, eyebrow wiggling. They’re all idiots, you decide.

You make it to Rooster’s side just in time, as he practically trips over his own feet.

“Woah, buddy,” you laugh, catching him around the middle. You can feel the heat of his body, even through his Hawaiian shirt. Rooster has always run so warm. “I think it’s time to get you home.”

A cacophony of protests sound from the rest of the table, but Bradley just looks down at you with a doe-eyed smile. You stomp down the fondness curling in your stomach, and instead draw his arm over your shoulder and curl an arm tight around his waist.

“I’m taking this dufus home. Try not to die while I’m gone!” You call, receiving a mixture of laughter and catcalls (Hangman of course), which you ignore.

Now, moving a 6’2” alpha is no easy task. Not when it’s Rooster, who can barely keep a foot under him when he’s tipsy and is only coordinated when he plays the piano. Usually, on nights like this, the main struggle is getting him to stop laughing long enough to get his feet to move, but tonight, he’s suspiciously quiet as you lead him out to your car. You can still feel his eyes on you, but this time you’re too scared to meet them. You don’t want to know what he’s thinking now. You don’t want to think about the fact that you’re alone with him now. An alpha. A drunk alpha at that. Even if he is your best friend.

The cold, night air helps to ease the warmth dancing under your skin. It seems to help Rooster sober up just a little too, as he fumbles his way into your passenger seat. You reach across him, intent on buckling the idiot up, but freeze when his fingers curl around your wrist.

Slowly, so slowly, you lean back to look at him, ready to bite, knock him out if you need to, but Bradley just smiles. It’s one of those soft, genuine ones, brimming in his eyes, boyishly lopsided. And you melt. You buckle him up and take a moment to ruffle a hand through his soft curls, drawing a content hum from the dirty blond. He just keeps looking at you, all smiley, eyes half-lidded.

“What am I gonna do with you, Roo?” You sigh.

“Kiss me?”

A shocked laugh parts your lips at the earnest suggestion. This finally gets Rooster to frown, though it looks more like a pout, which makes you giggle more. Leave it to Bradley to always be unexpected.

“Maybe when you’re sober, Roo,” you tease, and this seems to bring back his grin.

“‘m holdin’ you to that.”

You snort, knowing he probably won’t even remember this conversation in the morning, though a small part of you hopes he will. A small part you chastise as you close his door and move to the driver’s seat.

The drive is surprisingly quiet, until the sound of Rooster’s soft snores fill the car. A fond smile captures your lips. Looks like you had the perfect timing. He wouldn’t have lasted much longer at the bar. When you reach his apartment, you take a moment to just look at Rooster. His brow, usually knotted together for some reason or another, is smooth in his sleep, making him look younger, softer. His hair is a little mussed from when you ruffled it, a few strands falling over his forehead, tempting you to brush them back.

He really is handsome, you think. You don’t often let yourself entertain it, but Bradley really is something. Tall, muscular, with a defined jaw and a confidence to match. He’s an ideal alpha. Yet, that’s not what you find yourself drawn to. No, it’s those moments in the air when he calls on you to make the decision. It’s all the times he invites you over for a drink and just listens. It’s everything else about him that drives you crazy. He’s the perfect alpha.

You wonder if he’d ever pick you, as his omega.

And then, immediately, you shove that thought down and jump out of the car. Bradley jumps awake when you slam the door, eyes blearily tracking you as you make it to him and unbuckle him.

“Come on, big man, time to get you to bed,” you huff as you drag him up.

“You’re so strong,” Rooster mumbles, the look on his face just short of adoration.

Your face flushes, “Strong enough to drag you around. Better keep that in mind the next time you try to pick a fight with me.”

A moment of silence.

And then - “’m not Bagman.”

You stop, casting the alpha a curious glance. You hadn’t been insinuating that, but suddenly he looks too serious, brows furrowed, mouth set in a firm line.

“I know you’re not, Roo,” you murmur gently.

“I don’t like how he talks to you.” He frowns, now facing you completely.

“Yah? How so?” You slowly redirect him to the door.

“Don’t like how ‘e treats you like some ‘mega. You’re an omega, but he, he-” He practically growls, and your shoulders tense. “He’s no manners. I should knock some ‘nto him.”

You loosen when you realize the root of his anger. He doesn’t like that Hangman blatantly disrespects you as an omega. You were expecting it to be some protective alpha thing, since the two of you are so close, and it is to some degree you’re sure, but it lifts a little of your unease knowing that this is partially his chivalry thing. He once told you it’s how his mother raised him, since she was an omega and his father had passed away. His only other real influence was Maverick, who happens to be a beta.

“Well, I bet if we messed his face up a bit, he wouldn’t be so rude,” you hum, laughing softly when Bradley nods aggressively.

You prop the alpha against the wall and fish his keys from his pocket, shuffling nervously when he goes quiet, heavy gaze falling down on you again. If only he weren’t a good head taller than you, then maybe it would be easier to face that look.

Instead, you swiftly step into his small apartment, busying yourself with grabbing a cup of water for him and a couple aspirin for when he wakes up the next morning. He watches from the doorway, only moving in when you tell him to go change.

And boy do you regret that when you slip into his room. You were intending to just check on him one last time, make sure he didn’t slip and die whilst changing, but you instead come face to face with a notably shirtless Rooster.

“Ah, I was just um, I just-” You gulp, unable to tear your eyes away from him.

It’s not the first time you’ve seen Rooster shirtless, but this is different. This isn’t on the beach, when he’s covered in sweat and dancing to a victory play in dog fight football. No, this is in the dim light of his room, the soft glow from the kitchen just illuminating the prominent muscles of his abdomen, the smooth planes of his chest, the line of his collarbone, every inch of him tan and glowing and perfect.

When you finally do bring yourself to look away, to look at his face, you’re met with the most wolfish grin.

“Like what you see, Widow?”

Heat flushes through your chest, your breath catching in your throat. A small voice in you screams danger danger danger, but you can’t move as Rooster inches closer. His hands hover over your sides, close enough that you can feel his warmth, but not touching.

And part of you begs him to. Wants him to touch you, grab you, hold you, do whatever he wants. It collides viciously with the relief that swarms you when his hands settle gently on your arms. But then he’s leaning over you, face coming so so close to yours and you can’t breathe again. Your thoughts are swimming, lost to the whirlwind of the homey scent that envelops you.

“I wanna tell you something,” Rooster mumbles, warm breath brushing your face, the faint scent of whiskey not as gross as it should be.

“What is it, Bradley?” Your voice doesn’t quiver. It doesn’t.

He looks at you, and for a moment, it’s like he’s completely sober. His eyes are clear and bright, swimming with more emotion than you thought someone could hold. It feels like your heart is pushing through your chest.

“He’s wrong.”

“Who’s wrong?”

He hesitates only a second before the words spill from his lips, “Hangman. He said I don’t want you. He’s wrong.”

The air fizzles between the two of you as you process what he’s saying.

Bradley wants you. Is that what he means? He wants you? In what way? You’re suddenly overflowing with questions, each one dancing on the tip of your tongue, but you can’t bring yourself to ask them. Not now. Not when he’s like this and you can’t even seem to get your head straight. You don’t even know what you want, for Mavericks sake. (haha funny)

“I think you should get some sleep, Roo,” you all but whisper, “We can talk tomorrow.”

“It’s okay-” He draws you close just to press the softest kiss to your temple. It’s so innocent and sweet, you almost melt. “-know you don’t like alphas. Jus’ had to tell ya.”

And your heart breaks. His voice softens with something horribly sad and resigned, like he’s thought about this before, like he’s told it to himself over and over again. Because of you. Because of your stubborn prejudice. You’re no better than all the people you’ve been judging.

“Let’s get you to bed,” you croak, not meeting his eyes as you pull the man deeper into his bedroom.

He flops onto the mattress unceremoniously, immediately grabbing one of your hands when you turn to leave.

“Stay?”

You bite your lip, torn between running, escaping all this mess in your heart that he’s not even aware of, or doing exactly what he asks, because that’s all you want.

All you’ve ever wanted.

“Yah,” you rasp and settle down on the edge of his bed, “I’ll stay Roo, we’ll talk in the morning, okay?”

“An’ you’ll give me that kiss?” He peaks up at you with one eye, already fighting sleep.

You smile and gently brush your free hand through his curls, “Guess you’ll just have to get some sleep and see.”

Rooster eagerly closes his eyes and buries into his blankets, though that big, dopey grin stays on his lips even as he quickly drifts off. You linger, fingers still petting his hair, until you’re sure he’s asleep. Then, slowly, to not wake him up, you untangle your hand from his and make your way to the door.

Right before you close it, you hear a low, muffled, “Night, (Y/n).”

“Good night, Bradley,” you murmur back and silently shut the door.

You slump against the wood, a long whoosh of air escaping your lips.

How on earth are you supposed to process all of that?

It feels like everything is clicking together and falling apart, all at once.

Rooster wants you. You can still feel the warmth where his lips pressed against your skin. And you can’t really deny how you feel about him, not after all of that. Not only had you brought him home alone, drunk, and stumbled in on him shirtless, but nothing had happened. He never pressed, never made a move besides some flirting which is just so notoriously Rooster. Even drunk, he was more respectful than most people had ever been to you.

You love him.

There’s no other way to describe the deep, aching fondness in your chest.

You trust him, which seems even more important. Bradley would never do anything you wouldn’t want, he would never push himself on you, he would never force you to be something you’re not. Yet, you’ve made him feel like it’s impossible, because of your stupid vendetta against alphas.

The decision is made right then and there.

In the morning, when he’s more sober, you’ll show him just how much you like him and want him as an alpha. There will be no more doubt, no more holding back, no more suppressing every instinct that claws at your chest at the sight of him.

In the morning, he’ll definitely be getting that kiss.

---

When Rooster wakes up, it’s still dark out. A habit from all the early mornings for the job. He groans softly, head pounding like a herd of elephants are traipsing around inside it. He looks around blearily in the dark, barely catching the silhouette of a glass of water on his bed stand and the pills sitting next to it. He downs the painkillers quickly, finding the tiniest bit of relief from the cool water on his throat.

That’s the last time he drinks like that, he thinks, much like every morning he wakes up hungover.

“Good morning, Lieutenant.”

Wincing, the alpha looks up with narrowed eyes, catching a familiar sight. You’re standing at the end of his bed - how did he miss you coming in? - dressed in a pair of shorts and one of his old shirts. You look significantly better off than how he feels.

“Morning,” he rasps and clears his throat, heat climbing up his neck, “What happened last night?”

“Not much. You proposed to me in a fit of undying love and cried when I said no,” you hum, holding the straightest face you can.

Absolute horror flashes across Rooster’s face, making his eyes go wide as saucers. The blush on his neck climbs all the way across his cheeks, all the way to the tip of his ears. It only lasts for a few seconds before you burst into a fit of giggles, and understanding dawns on him. His features settle into something unimpressed.

“Not funny,” he growls, but the blush still lingering on his face makes it not too threatening.

“You’re just so fun to tease, Roo,” you coo, thoroughly entertained by the glare he sends you. You give his leg a pat, letting your touch linger - Rooster notices, his brow perking inquisitively at you - before you tuck your hands between your legs and your tone turns more serious, “Last night was fine. You just drank too much so I brought you home.”

“I didn’t do anything?”

“Weeeell…”

“(Y/n)?” His voice holds something uncertain in it, which is out of character for the aviator, and makes you soften.

You hold his gaze for a serious moment, biting your lip as you think through the words you’ve rehearsed over and over in your head. It’s not helping, not with the nerves swirling in your chest. You barely slept last night thinking about this moment.

“You were mad about what Hangman said at the bar last night,” you murmur slowly, to which he nods. That he remembers. “You wanted to make sure I knew he was wrong. You um, you said you want me?”

Bradley freezes. He looks down at his hands, fingers flexing and unflexing as he traces back the events of the night. It’s all blurry, but he does remember being close to you. Kissing you. He winces. That is not how he wanted that to go. But all the best pilots know that once you make a move, there’s no taking it back, so the best route is to just keep going…he hopes.

“And if that’s true?” He asks, bringing those dark eyes up to meet yours. They burn with the same intensity they did last night, making you bite your lips.

“Well, if that’s true…” You take a breath, gathering every ounce of courage left in your body to swing a leg over his, putting you right in his lap. Rooster inhales sharply, instinctively gripping your hips to steady you. His eyes are wide, brewing with something wicked as they stay locked on your face. “I’d have to tell you that I want you too…alpha.”

A low growl rumbles through the aviator’s chest and his fingers dig into your skin, hard enough to leave a bruise, you’re sure. And you love it. The omega in your crumbles when he draws you closer, close enough that your noses practically touch.

“You weren’t drinking last night too, were you darlin?” His voice is deliciously rough, brushing over all your senses, leaving you tingling.

“Nope,” you hum, draping your arms over his shoulders to play with the curls at his neck, “I’m all here, Bradley. This is my decision.”

“And you’re choosing me?”

Instead of saying anything, you take another deep breath to still the nerves boiling away under your skin, and slowly tilt your chin, exposing the expanse of your neck to the alpha. A sign of submission.

Bradley stills, chest practically heaving as he keeps himself from moving. Both of your hearts are pounding, the moment so quiet, so tense, as you look at him from under your lashes. Your eyes swim with uncertainty and a vulnerability he has never seen, and that breaks him from his spell.

“God, I love you.” He buries his face in your neck, breathing in every bit of your scent that he can. You shiver at the feeling of his warm breath on your skin, a low giggle escaping you when he presses his lips to your neck, all gentle and slow and sure, but the brush of his mustache against your skin tickles. “I’ve loved you since that crash, probably since before it. Never thought I had a chance with you, baby girl.”

“Sorry for making you think that, Roo,” you gasp when he nips at your ear.

“Don’t be.” He presses kisses to your jaw, closer and closer to your lips. You wish he’d just hurry up. “This feels more rewarding.”

“What? Knowing you got the stubborn, little omega?” You jest, practically dizzy from all the contact, and from his scent which seems to swallow you. God, you love his scent.

“No.” He presses his forehead to yours. “Knowing you’re choosing me. It’s all you, darlin’. I never stood a chance against you.”

“I don’t think I did either,” you sigh, “Not with that stupid mustache and that face.”

“You like my face?” His eyes twinkle with boyish mirth.

“Shut up and kiss me, lieutenant.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You can feel the curve of a smirk on his lips when they finally meet yours. And it’s perfect. His lips press gently to yours as his hands trace up your sides to cup your face. Every touch is searing, leaving behind trails of heat that make you whimper softly into the kiss. Bradley growls, the sound deep, low in his chest. He tilts your head, catches your bottom lip between his teeth, eliciting a gasp from you. He deepens the kiss, and you’re helpless against it, against him. He kisses you until you’re breathless, until you’re clinging to him and his hands are curled firmly around your waist, drawing you closer, closer, closer. Even when you break away, chest heaving for air, he doesn’t stop, just presses kisses along your neck, tugs the collar of your his shirt aside to drop kisses along your collarbone and shoulder. A shaky sigh escapes your lips, and you can’t help but curl your fingers tightly through his curls. The alpha groans, concentrating on the spot right below your ear that makes you tremble. You whine when he bites the spot, and a low rumble vibrates his chest as he traces his tongue over the stinging skin before he presses one final kiss over it.

Your whole body is like a live wire. You can’t catch your breath, can’t stop the shaking of your hands or the wild pace of your heart. But you feel alive. You feel alive for the first time in forever.

“I love you,” Bradley murmurs again as he presses his forehead to yours, eyes closed as he too tries to catch his breath.

“I love you, too,” you laugh breathlessly, “I can’t believe I’ve made you wait so long.”

“Worth it.” He hits you with that stupid, lopsided grin you love so much.

“Definitely….”

“...alpha.”

Bradley opens his eyes, glaring at you playfully, “Don’t start something you can’t finish, darlin’.”

You peck his lips one last time, teasingly soft, before you jump up from the bed and make your way to the kitchen.

“Wouldn’t dream of it! I kept my promise about the kiss, didn’t I?”

A low laugh sounds from the bedroom, and you smile.

Yah, this was the right decision.

Note: This was purely self-indulgent when I wrote it, but I liked it, so I figured I’d post it somewhere. Hope someone else likes it!

[waklman]

hey! It’s my birthday today! I was wondering if you could write a small blurb about Bradley doing something special for babybear on her birthday? No worries if you aren’t able to! I love the series! <3

Birthday Suit

first off, happy freaking birthday!!!!! of course i’ll write something for you!!!! thank you for enjoying my series, i have on my party hat for you right as we speak B) i wanted to get this posted on the day of your birthday so sorry if it’s not as polished >.> (also maybe because i wrote this on the shaky bus..so that too haha)

warnings: fluff, 18+ blog in general, minors dni.

word count: 900

something ‘bout you masterlist.

“Shit–she’s not here yet, right?” Bradley asks frantically, nudging the door open with his foot—hands clumsy handling a cake.

He’s yet to look up from the very costly decorated birthday cake, trying to balance it with sweaty fingers. You’ve been raving over the local bakery’s designs lately—showing Bradley their custom made desserts to an endless degree.

Which only meant that—he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he didn’t splurge on a cake. Especially one that was shaped like the head of a bear. When he finally arrived at the bakery for pickup, in his scramble to show up on time—Bradley couldn’t even be mad that one of the bear’s eyeballs were slipping off the edge, because you’d like it.

It would make you laugh, and that’s all Bradley needed to know before stuffing a fat twenty dollar bill in the tip jar—rendering the teenage girl at the register speechless.

As he sets the cake down, Bradley stretches his neck to face the group of usually chatty aviators surrounding the kitchen island.

His eyes are already narrowed into slits, staring at them through his eyebrows with a warning look.

There’s only silence between him and the group, who all have their mouths parted in shock. Hangman’s mouth is parted the widest, making the paper party horn slip from his teeth—which annoys Bradley even more.

Bob is the only one who can’t face Bradley, blinking down at the cake nervously—trying his hardest to ignore his choice of apparel.

“Don’t say a thing,” he grits, watching Jake collect his thoughts, lips puckering together—a clear sign that he does in fact—has something to say.

To no one’s surprise, he’s the first to speak up. “What the—What the fuck is on your face?” Jake sputters, lips curling inside his mouth to let out a hideous laugh.

He says exactly what everyone’s thinking, causing most of the pilots to double over in laughter. Though some of them—well just Coyote, accidentally spits up in his own hand, from holding in his amusement.

“What the fuck is on his face?!” Natasha yells the question at Jake. “Don’t you mean—What the fuck is he wearing?” Natasha puts forth, tugging on the pink tutu around his waist.

“Hey. Hands off woman, this took forever to put on.” Bradley grunts, turning his hip away from her hands.

It’s not like Bradley isn’t aware of how ridiculous he looks. There’s a full shaving cream beard ringing around his mouth for God's sake. Not to mention the bright pink tulle around his jeans—paired with a matching princess tiara sitting on his curls, of course.

He’s actually very aware that he looks like he’s been dressed by a group of six year old girls given free reign—also known as the collective who runs your brain. You’d have a hoot at this.

Before anyone else can get another word in—the front door of your apartment jiggles, and Fanboy quickly hushes everyone. The make fun of Rooster convention is put to an end as everyone scatters to a nearby hiding spot. If it’s one thing the group is good at—it’s knowing how to act quickly.

Right as you walk in, you almost fall over from being greeted with loud screams of “Suprise!” and “Happy Birthday!” and even one “I love you more than Rooster!” coming from Hangman.

Clutching your chest, your mouth stretches into a wide smile—heart full of joy at the surprise. “W-What? Oh my god,” you catch sight of Bradley first.

Completely dropping your stuff onto the floor, you go running at the flushed pilot, throwing yourself into his arms. Bradley stumbles back with a shy look on his face, “How do I look honey?”

You place a searing kiss to his mouth, letting the shaving cream stamp your own face—matching Bradley. “So freaking cute, I love the tiara,” you laugh, taking it for yourself.

Jake’s already starting, ��See, I don’t know—it looks fine on her but on Rooster it’s kinda—” Natasha jabs him in the ribs with her elbow, not wanting him to ruin the moment. Jake groans, catching the hint.

Bradley finally drops you, hands still on your waist as you slip back onto the wooden tiles. You get distracted, playing with Bradley’s skirt as he grins down at you, “How’d they get this in your size? I tried checking before but—”

“Ahem.” Payback cuts in, knowing you and Bradley tend to get lost in your own little world.

You both turn to face the noise, and everyone’s surrounding the cake, waiting for you to notice it.

“No. No you didn’t!” You gape, hands coming to your mouth—smearing your new white beard.

Your eyes start to actually well up watching everyone make excited gestures at you—happy that you got your dream cake. Hangman flaps his hands around the cake, with an open smile.

Unable to contain your tears, your fingers stretch over your eyes, covering your face completely. “Baby—wait hey are you crying?” Bradley worriedly leans down, trying to pry your hands off.

You fall foward into his chest, and he catches you. “It’s s’cute. The ugly little eyeball—I can't,” you muffle into your palms.

“Thought you’d like that,” he laughs, glad they’re just happy tears. Placing a kiss onto your hairline, he whispers, “Happy birthday babybear.”

“Babybear!” All the pilots shout in unison, some even tearing up themselves. In a flash, everyone's throwing themselves at you both, turning it into a group hug. Hangman is the last to join, wrapping his arms around everyone, sniffling.

You just cry harder at the sentiment, this is the best birthday ever.

note: as always, thank you for reading and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

tags for this series: @wkndwlff @sammyrenae68 @stark3ys @roosterbruiser @gracelyn-writes @zombiedeathsworld @blueoorchid @averyhotchnerr

join my taglist for this series here or follow @waklman-library and turn on notifs to get notified when i post !

[blondedmuse]

JUST FOR TONIGHT

bradley “rooster” bradshaw x reader

synopsis. ꩜ you learn how bradley truly feels about you.

author's note. ∿ wow look whose writing again! this also has no editing because i’m so tired and wrote this in 30 minutes

word count. ⨾ idk a lot

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

It’s the middle of a the night and you found yourself wide awake and held tightly in strong arms. You should be tired and you should be asleep but the heartbeat of the man behind you has kept you wide awake.

He’d ended up in your bed more often than not in the past few months and you in his. It’s a game you didn’t know you were playing, tip-toeing around each other to see who would fold first.

It was usually you, and you’d take him home with no regrets that night but then once he was gone by morning there was always a sour taste left in your mouth.

It lingered because you were yearning for something more—something you weren’t sure Bradley wanted. While he took you out from time to time, you continued to tell yourself you were just friends; with benefits of course.

There were lines that you established neither of you were meant to cross, yet it’s as if those boundaries were made to be broken.

So now you lay wide awake contemplating where you stand and what this means for the both of you. You tilt you head so you can see Bradley and you don’t think the thoughts of your present have ever once occurred to him. Maybe they have but it’s not worth the headache, especially at four in the morning.

So carefully, you slip from the hold of his arms and off the bed and head to the living room, taking your acoustic guitar with you. You settle on your couch with the hopes that music will serve as a sufficient distraction and your fingers drift to the chords of I Love You So by The Walters.

The song is quiet enough to keep him from his wake and you sing the words just above a whisper. Halfway through the song you almost forgot Bradley was in your bedroom—almost.

The truth is the moment you’d left the room and your side of the bed was cold, he woke up. He’d slowly been growing accustomed to your body in his arms as he fell asleep, which he damned himself for because it was never meant to happen. It was never meant to happen because why would you feel that same? You were just friends, right?

Still he woke up looking around the room for your figure and as soon as he heard a voice he realized maybe he didn’t have to search far. It wasn’t long before he noticed you were singing, to which he then realized he’d never heard before. He’d always wanted to ask you to play something for him, to hear your voice to the tune of one of your favorite songs and now he had the chance.

He walked downstairs as quietly as he could which proved itself to be not quiet enough as you turned around to see him standing at the bottom of your stairs.

“I’m sorry, did I wake you?” You asked.

He nodded. “Yeah, but I don’t mind.” he sighed before thinking of the right words to say.

“I’d like it if you kept going.”

You hesitated before nodding to the spot next to you on the couch. “Don’t you have training tomorrow? I just- I think you should get some sleep. Proper sleep.”

“I’ll be fine. I’d rather you sing me to sleep anyways,” He told you, shifting his position so that he was lying down.

“Please?” He asked and how could you say no?

“Alright,” You agreed and your fingers started once again. Going for something slower, you started playing John Wayne by Cigarettes After Sex, singing along like you had done earlier.

Once you finished the song you were sure he was out like a light with his eyes closed and breathing slowed, and you were stuck in this awkward position once again. Before you could get up however, the sound of his voice left you frozen.

“I hope you know I love your voice. Love it almost just as much as I love you,” He rasped.

Your brows cinched together and you heart stopped momentarily. Did Bradley just say he loves you? You looked to him again to see his eyes flutter open, searching your face for any kind of reaction.

“You don’t have to say anything Y/N, I just wanted to tell you. But if anything, I do want you to stay with me. Just for tonight?”

You obliged, setting your guitar down on the coffee table in front of you and lying down next to Bradley, allowing him to hold your once again and you allowed his warmth to consume you like a love.

You knew you would talk about this tomorrow morning, but for now you could only hope it wasn’t just for tonight.

[warnersister]

Newborn Days

Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Moments with his wife and newborn son

Bradley looks out through the window in front of him, sat upright in the bed, back against the headboard as he watches the sunrise. The two of you had booked a small cabin on the beach for a few weeks, just while you got your feet here in Miramar. Bradley’s grasp held you closer, he drew his eyes away from the growing horizon and down to where you were sat in his lap. Your head was dipped as you allowed your little baby boy to have his breakfast; eyes closed while he nursed gently on your swollen nipple. Bradley’s heart swelled with love as your tired eyes looked back at him, rocking gently to soothe your new son. He offered a small, loving smile as he leant to kiss your forehead.

He could get used to this.

[trying-2bcool]

Amazing end to an amazing series!

Right Girl, Wrong Time Part 10 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: You missed out on a lot of things when you lived in Chicago, because you didn't want to do them without Bradley. On a very important trip, you and he both visit the city together.

Warnings: Fluff, smut and swears

Length: 1500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader (former fuckboy college student Bradley)

This is a sequel to accompany my story Old Habits Die Hard (you'll want to read that one first)!

Check my profile for my masterlist

Five Months Later...

"I can't believe we're willingly flying to Chicago in January," you complained with a bright smile on your face. 

"This was your idea, Sugar," Bradley reminded you, holding up both boarding passes for the airline gate agent to scan. "It's not too late to stay in Vegas or fly to Fiji like I originally wanted."

"No, no. We're going to Chicago together," you told him, taking his hand as you boarded your flight from Las Vegas to O'Hare. Bradley spun your rings around on your finger as you located your seats and settled in. 

"Chicago in January. Two days before a blizzard is due to arrive. Are we about to go on the shittiest honeymoon ever?" he asked, kissing your lips. 

You laughed and wrapped your arms around his neck. "Listen, we just had Elvis marry us yesterday on the Vegas strip. We had a quickie wedding after being engaged for five weeks, and I'm not even pregnant. Now we're about to get snowed in together in Chicago. You'll be stuck in a room with me for a week. I don't think a conventional honeymoon is what we needed, Beer Boy."

Bradley tipped his head back and laughed. "Actually, now that you mention it, being snowed in with you sounds like a dream, Sugar. What am I even complaining about?"

"I don't know," you whispered against his scars. "You get me and Chicago deep dish pizza around the clock if you want it."

"I want it," he confirmed. "You can feed me pizza naked in bed after we have sex. And then I'll get hard again, we can have sex again, and you can feed me more pizza. It sounds like the perfect week. Chicago in January is everything I ever wanted."

You were shaking with silent laughter as the flight attendant went over the safety instructions, and soon you were in the air. And then you fell asleep on your husband's shoulder. Bradley jostled you awake in time to see the city all lit up against a snowy backdrop as the plane descended into Chicago. 

"Are you ready for this?" you asked, standing next to him with your bags, about to walk outside to get a taxi. "It's three degrees out there."

"Yeah, I'm ready," Bradley mumbled, but he looked scared. "No problem."

Once you and he were outside, he was practically crying as you took care of hailing a ride to the hotel. "You have thin Californian blood now," you told him as he snuggled up next to you in the back seat. You kissed his icy cold nose and forehead as you headed through the city where you lived for four years during grad school. "It's embarrassing, Bradley. I married a Californian."

He shivered in your arms and said, "We're both Virginians, Sugar. I just hate being cold."

You were playing with his hair and kissing along his ear as he melted into you. Every time you thought about the crazy juxtaposition that your life had become, you felt tears in your eyes. You had missed Bradley terribly when you were living in Chicago and still even after you graduated with your PhD. So it just felt right that he was here with you now.

"That's where I got my second tattoo," you whispered as the taxi drove slowly down a side street. 

Bradley looked out the window and smiled. "Should be a historic landmark."

Your laughter filled the small space as he kissed you. Then he paid the cab fare, and you had never seen him move as fast as he did when he hauled all of the luggage inside to the warm hotel lobby. 

"Let's go get a good night's sleep," you told him as he carried everything to the elevator and then into the hotel room. 

"We're not sleeping," he said, shaking his head. "You're going to snuggle with me until I'm warm again, which could take hours, and then I'm fucking you for the rest of the night."

He wasn't lying. You pulled him into bed with you, and held his body close, softly kissing him and telling him how happy you were. 

"I love you, Sugar. I loved you ten years ago, and I love you today, and I'll still be loving you ten years from now."

Slowly and meticulously, he undressed you beneath the blankets, touching and kissing each new bit of skin as it was exposed. He took extra time and gave extra attention to your tattoos, just like he always did. 

"I've been in love with you since the first time you wore my bathrobe," he told you before pressing his lips to the valley between your breasts as you giggled. "No, before that. Since the first time I watched you put a bottle of beer to your perfect lips." He kissed his way up to your mouth, lingering there until you were sighing against him. 

"You've been in love with me since you met me then? Is that what you're trying to say, Beer Boy?"

He groaned as he slid his length inside you. "God, I fucking love it when you call me that. Every single time. And yes, Sugar, ever since I met you."

You made love to your husband all night, your hands and eyes roving over his body as you told him how happy you were that you both ended up at your class reunion in Virginia. That he was at the same bar as you that night last summer. 

When you both finally fell asleep, it was a long time before you woke up. Room service had already switched from breakfast to lunch, but Bradley got them to agree to send up a pot of coffee along with your lunch order. You and he ate all bundled up in bed together with the curtains open, the first flurries of snow falling outside as the storm moved in. 

"We need to head out soon so we can get back before it gets dark," you told him as he sipped his coffee. 

His expression looked unimpressed, but he nodded anyway. "Yeah. Let's go, Sugar."

The taxi dropped you both off at the edge of the park as the sidewalks were getting slick from the snow. There were only a few people out and about, and even in the middle of the day, the sunlight was struggling to break through the heavy, gray clouds. Bradley had his arm wrapped around your shoulders as you approached The Bean together. You stood side by side, examining if for a moment in silence. 

"It's just a big, metallic bean," you said, leaning into Bradley as the wind picked up.

"I knew it would be dumb as hell, Sugar," he replied, gesturing at it with his hand like there was no good explanation for what they were seeing.

You wrapped your arms around his middle and looked up at him as you started cracking up. "I'm glad I didn't see it without you. It was worth the wait."

"You were worth the wait. The Bean, maybe less so," he replied, kissing you as you took your phone out. 

After you took a bunch of selfies and texted some to Nat, you looked at Bradley and hummed. His cheeks were bright pink from the cold, and the tip of his nose was getting red. He was perfect, and he was all yours. 

"Have you given much thought to a little Bradshaw bean?" you asked as snowflakes stuck on his mustache. 

"Bradshaw bean?" he asked. His brow was creased before it started to smooth out. "Are you saying what I think you're saying, Sugar?"

You nodded and kissed his pink cheek. "Yeah, Beer Boy. A little baby Bradshaw bean. Just something to think about."

Both of you thought about it and talked about it as you stood in front of the giant bean in the middle of a blizzard. But you didn't need to make all of your decisions right now. You weren't planning on being without Bradley ever again. 

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

THANK YOU for reading along on this adventure with me! Beer Boy/Man and Sugar belong together, and I'm happy she gets to take him to Chicago, even if it's during a blizzard! I hope you had as much fun as I did! Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls (The cover banner is the Jon Langston album cover!)

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[bloatedandalone04]

Crossing that Line

➪the one where you and bradley drive each other crazy in more ways than one, but would do anything for each other, and all it takes is one confession to solidify your places in each others lives.

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, swearing, fluff, hint of angst, pining to the max, a whole lot of smut tbh

Word Count: 6.1k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡ | Happy Birthday, Rooster !

The relationship you had with Bradley was…a weird one, to put it simply.

He pisses you off more than anyone you’ve ever met, and you drive him up the wall nearly every day, but you also couldn’t stand to be away from one another. He was your person, and you were his best friend; you would do anything for each other without an ounce of hesitation. 

It was stupid, how hard you found yourself falling for him. The guy who had more confidence than he should, the guy who’s saved your ass more times than you can count, and the guy who’s taken hits for you during training, just so you wouldn’t have to hear about it later from the other guys. 

The only thing is; you had no idea how he felt about you. He was cocky, confident and hid his feelings annoyingly well, you had no clue if the shared stares meant the same thing to him that they did to you, or if you were mistaking his comments for shameless flirting. 

You couldn’t lose him, so you kept it bottled up for the last two years, and it’s been complete and utter hell. But you’d keep doing it. Because there was no telling what he was thinking sometimes, and if he was thinking about you. 

The day was slowly coming to an end, and nearly everyone was heading to the barracks, but not you. Instead of going to your room, you made your way to the hangar, knowing who you would find in there. You turn the corner and lean against the wall, crossing your arms as you watch Bradley mess around with his  F/A-18. 

You tried not to focus on the way the muscles in his neck flexed with every move of his arm, the small amount of oil littering his skin making him shine a bit as the sun set behind you. “Hey, Bradshaw,” you greet before he could turn and catch you staring at him. “Nice flying today.”

You could see the way his body shifted in recognition of your voice, and when he turned to glance over at you, he was smirking. “Hey there, Y/n/n,” he said, wiping his hands on his flight suit. “Nice to see you haven’t crashed and burned yet.”

Shaking your head, you ignore the fact that it was just you and him left in the hangar now. “Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” 

Bradley shrugged, grabbing a cloth from off a table and wiping his hands. “Could be kinda entertaining,”

You gasp, placing your hand over your heart. “Wow, ouch,” you mumble. “And here I am thinking I’d probably be heartbroken if the same thing were to happen to you.”

He laughed, turning to face you. “Please, we both know you’d be the first one to poke fun at me for crashing,”

You press your lips together and shrug. “Yeah, probably, but I’d also be the first one to make it over to you,”

Really, you’d probably die of a broken heart if something were to happen to him, but he didn’t need to know that right now. Or ever. 

Bradley’s smirk softened and he looked down at his boots. “I know you would,”

And now you were picturing what it would be like to live without him, and you could feel yourself beginning to panic a bit. 

Smiling, you shake your head again before giving him a conflicted look, wanting nothing more than to walk over to him and press the neediest kiss to his lips and tell him you were so fucking in love with him. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow, Bradley,” you say quietly, watching as his brows furrow.

“Wait,” he said, making you hold off on leaving just yet. “Something on your mind?”

“No,” you say too quickly for it to sound true. “Nope. I’m fine, Rooster. I’ll leave you alone now.”

His eyes narrow and he throws the cloth somewhere behind him as he steps towards you. “Why are you lying to me?”

You let out a surprised laugh, pushing yourself off the wall. “I’m not,”

“Uh huh,” he hummed, moving so he’s standing right in front of you. “You’re a terrible liar.”

Your face heats up and you quickly look away, squinting as your gaze meets the bright sunset. “Okay,” you trail off, glancing at him one last time before stepping away. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Bradley.”

He looked like he wanted to say more, maybe continue to call you out on your awful attempt at lying to his face, but his shoulders dropped slightly as he nodded casually. “Yeah, okay,” he agreed, moving away from you and back towards his jet. “See you tomorrow, sweetheart.”

Oh, how you loved and fucking hated when he called you that. It made you crave him even more than you usually do, and it also made you want to punch him square in the face for having such a strong effect on you. 

“Don’t overthink too much,” he added, glancing back at you with a teasing smirk. 

“I’ll try,” you whisper, and no more words are shared as you leave the hangar and quickly walk across base and towards the barracks. 

-

Bradley knew you weren’t telling him something the second he saw your conflicted look before you tried playing it off right after. He wanted to push you on it more, but wasn’t sure if he even had the right to since it was pretty rare for things to become serious like that between the two of you. 

He was still in the hangar, the arms of his flight suit now tied around his waist as he finally decided to stop touching his jet and leave it alone for the rest of the night. Like usual, his thoughts were taken over by you, and he wondered what would’ve happened if he didn’t let you leave so easily earlier. What could he have gotten you to say? Why did you suddenly become so closed off and serious in the middle of your usually playful banter? 

He almost didn’t want to know, but he also kinda wanted to know. 

It was late, but not too late for it to be deemed unacceptable for him to stop by your room before retiring to his for the night. So instead of taking the first hallway in the barracks corridor, he went past it and turned left a few feet down the hall, instantly recognizing your room without him even meaning to. 

Bradley debated on whether or not he wanted to intrude on your night or save it for tomorrow, but with you he often found himself saying fuck it and hoping for the best. So he knocked.

After waiting for only a few seconds, the door opened and you poke your head out with guarded eyes, your gaze softened once you saw that it was him. “Bradley?” 

He smiled, crossing his arms and leaning against the frame, mirroring your stance back in the hangar. “Hey,” he greeted. “Hope I’m not bothering you too late.” 

You shake your head and smooth out your messy hair, and he knew you were probably in bed, trying to sleep but failing miserably to do so. During one of your thousand talk sessions, you mentioned how much you hated sleeping in the small, single beds here and couldn’t wait to start looking for apartments in the area. Bradley hated them, too, not because he couldn’t fit properly in them, but because whenever he laid down for the night, he was reminded of just how fucking lonely he really is. “No, you’re fine,” you give him a tight smile, one he knew was played up. Still, it was a pretty one nonetheless. “What’s up?”

Bradley’s gaze raked down your body, subtly checking out your attire of a loose, long sleeve button up and leggings. “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. You seemed off the last time we talked,”

“What, a few hours ago after a day of being in the air?” You laugh, running your hands down your face as you avoid eye contact with him. Now he knew you were hiding something for sure. “Yeah, I’m good. Great, even. I’m great.” 

Bradley raises his brows, a huff escaping his lips after. “You are such a terrible liar,” he grunted, watching as you immediately looked down to the floor. “See, you can’t hide anything from me, sweetheart. Just tell me what’s up.”

You looked up at him with an expression he’s never really seen on you before, and it had him straightening up a bit. “You’re really not going to drop this, are you?”

“No,”

You glance down at the floor, pulling at the sleeves of your shirt. “I didn’t mean what I said earlier,” you confessed quietly. 

Bradley’s gaze softened and he tried to get you to look at him, but you weren’t letting up. “What part?”

You shrugged, keeping your head down. “About how I would laugh if you crashed and burned,” you whispered. “I wouldn’t laugh.”

Bradley tenses up a bit at the sudden change in tone and atmosphere, looking around your small and neat room. “I know you wouldn’t, I was just messing with you,” like we usually do.

“No, Bradley,” you mumbled, still not looking at him. “I mean it. I’d be devastated if that were to happen to you.”

“Hey,” he said softly, reaching over to gently grip your chin with his thumb and forefinger. “I know…I know. I was just messing around…I didn’t expect…” He trailed off, suddenly aware of how close he had gotten to you. He had never touched you like this before, only ever going as far as a quick hug after a risky mission or a dangerous stunt in the air. 

You furrowed your brows as you met his gaze with guarded eyes. “Didn’t expect what?” 

Bradley inches even closer. “I didn’t expect that you’d care this much,”

Your eyes widen a bit as you look up at him. “Of course I care,” you gasped in disbelief, laughing after and breaking eye contact again. “Maybe too much.”

But he didn’t let your eyes wander far as he still had a hold on your chin, and he guided your face back to his. “What do you mean by that? ‘Too much’?” He asked, his eyes wide, any traces of his earlier teasing gone. 

You give him a pleading look. “You know what I mean,” 

Bradley held your gaze, noting your frustrated expression. “Maybe I do,” he murmured, caressing your jaw with his thumb. “But I want to hear you say it.”

“I can’t,” you shake your head and he could see the way you played with your fingers out of the corner of his eye.

“Why not?” He pressed, invading your space with another step. “What are you so afraid to tell me?”

You give him another pleading look, but he doesn’t step away. “I’m afraid of putting something out there that I can’t take back,” 

When you moved to step away, Bradley’s hands reached for your hips, anchoring you in place. He had never been this close to you before, never touched you like this before, and it was driving him insane. “Tell me,”

“Bradley,” 

His gaze intensifies, his head dipping down closer to yours. “Say it, sweetheart,”

Your eyes were wide with anxiety as you parted your lips to speak. “I…I’m in love with…you,”

Though he had a small feeling that he knew - or maybe hoped -  you were going to say that, his breath still got caught in his throat. His heart was beating loudly in his ears, and his skin was on fire. No one had ever made him feel this way with a single sentence, and he wasn’t all that surprised that it was you. “You’re in love with me?” He asked, needing to hear it for confirmation. 

A blush takes over your face as you shake your head and step away. “I-I didn’t…fuck, I’m sorry, I don’t-” you stuttered and he could see the tears gathered along your eyes. “I just messed everything up. I knew I would.”

Bradley’s eyes widen at the sudden loss of contact, and he shakes his head, too. “No, no, wait. Don’t…don’t apologize,” he rasped, running his hands through his hair. “Don’t be sorry. It’s…it’s okay.”

You stare at the floor and nod. “Okay,”

Your heart was on your sleeve now, and he knew he had to be careful. “Sweetheart…look at me,” he softly demands, stepping towards you and closing the distance you created. 

“Can’t…I can’t,” you quickly shook your head but he lifted your chin with his fingers. 

“Please,” he whispered. “Look at me.”

Slowly, your teary eyes met his and you looked like you were already building walls up to protect yourself from him, and that was the last thing he wanted. Seeing your eyes glazed over like this was damn near enough to break his heart, and Bradley took a step closer to you. 

“There you are,” he whispered, gently stroking your chin with his thumb. He held your gaze, a mixture of embarrassment, vulnerability and uncertainty. “You have no idea.”

You furrowed your brows, trying to blink away the tears as you trembled in front of him. “No idea about what?” You asked, your voice barely above a murmur. 

Bradley kept his eyes locked on yours, ensuring you knew just how serious his next words are. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited and wanted…hoped to hear you say that to me,” he confessed, watching as your eyes widened. “I never thought you felt the same way, so I never let myself think about it too much.”

Your breath audibly caught in your throat as you stuttered, “W-what?”

He smiled, his usual cocky and confident facade fading as the seconds went on. “You’re the one person, the only person I could never figure out fully. I could never tell if you wanted me as badly as I wanted you, or if you just saw me as the guy you bickered with all the time,” he continued. “You’re the one person who doesn’t care about how full of myself I am sometimes, you called me out on it. And ever since then, I couldn’t get you out of my head.”

“Bradley,” you gasped quietly, and he could see your walls starting to come down again, so he pushed further, 

“And hearing you say that…that you’re in love with me…” he trailed off, moving his fingers from your chin and tracing them along your jaw. “It felt like I could finally have the one thing I thought I never could.” 

You swallow hard, your eyes wide and vulnerable as he closes the distance further, leaving a few inches between the two of you. His fingers curled around your jaw and his thumb tugged at your bottom lip, his gaze flickering down for a few seconds. 

“God, baby,” he whispered in disbelief. “Hearing you say that…it’s all I ever wanted. You get under my skin like no one else, and you make me want to pull my hair out, but I can’t fight the way I feel about you anymore. Not after this.”

“Bradley,” you say again, at a loss for words as you reach up and grip his wrist, leaning into his touch. 

“Sweetheart,” he murmured. “Will you say it again? Please?”

He couldn’t believe he was begging to hear your words again, but the way your expression softened had him not giving a single fuck. “Bradley, I’m in love with you,” 

His skin heated up as you repeated your words, and his control finally snapped. “Fuck…fuck,” he muttered, not wasting another second as he leaned in and kissed you. He poured all the nights he lost sleep thinking about you into the kiss, all the times he held back his own confession after your usual playful banter turned serious, all the times he thought about doing just this with you. 

You kissed him back desperately, a soft moan escaping your throat as you gripped his wrists tightly. Bradley wraps his arms around your waist, pulling your body right up against his as he deepened the kiss. He walks you backwards until your back hits the wall opposite from the door, pinning you to it as his hands roam all over your body. 

He couldn’t believe, after all the nights he spent fantasizing about this, that he was finally touching you like this. Your quiet gasps against his lips had his touch growing more possessive as he felt your hands slide up to grip his shoulders. His palms were flat against your body, feeling the heat of your skin through your clothes. “God, baby, you taste so good. You feel so good,” he murmurs once he breaks the kiss and begins trailing his lips along your jaw, his body pressing yours closer to the wall. 

“Oh, my God,” you moaned, your breath coming out heavy and uneven. “Bradley.”

He always knew his name would sound beautiful coming from your mouth like this, but actually hearing it was something else entirely. “You have no idea what you do to me,” he growled softly against your collar bone, his fingers lifting your shirt up so he could feel the smooth skin of your hips. “I’ve thought about this…about you for so long.” 

Your fingers moved up to his hair, where you pulled gently. “You’ve thought about me?”

“Yes,” he answered, burying his face against your neck as his hands inched further up your body under your shirt. “I think about you all the time. I tried not to, but I was fucked from the second I saw you.”

The surprised laugh you let out had his touch growing more urgent, the only thing on his mind being more ways he could get you to make those pretty sounds again. “Why didn’t you do anything about it?” 

Bradley lets out his own laugh, lifting his head from your neck as he raises a brow at you. “I could ask you the same question,” came his teasing reply as his hands slid up your back. “But really…you terrified me. I didn’t want to ruin things and mess up our friendship if you didn’t feel the same way.”

“So,” you trailed off, looking up at him with hopeful eyes. “What does this mean for our friendship? For us?”

He lifts a hand to your cheek, his thumb brushing against your bone as he answered, “It means that I can’t keep pretending that I don’t want you. That I don’t need you, sweetheart,” he leaned in and pressed his forehead against yours. “It means we’re not just friends anymore.”

The smile you gave him had goosebumps forming on his skin and a wave of relief washing over him. “We’re not?”

Bradley shook his head. “No, baby, we’re not,” he confirmed, pressing his hips against yours as he placed a soft kiss to your lips. “You’re mine now, and I’m never letting you go.”

Your smile grows as you wrap your arms around his shoulders. “Bradley…I love you,”

He wraps his arms around your waist again as a warmth spreads all throughout his body. “I love you, too. So fucking much,” he mumbles before capturing your lips in another desperate, needy kiss. His tongue pokes out and nudges your lips apart, a deep groan leaving his throat as you pull at his hair. “Fuck, baby…been dying to taste you like this.” He breaks the kiss just long enough to whisper against your lips before going back in, his fingers moving to the buttons on your shirt. 

“I can’t believe this is happening,” you say against his lips. “This is happening, right? This is real?”

Bradley pulls away to be able to look you in the eyes. “It’s real, sweetheart,” he said softly before beginning to unbutton your shirt. “I can’t believe you feel the same way about me.”

“You can’t believe I love you?” You tease, biting down on your wet, swollen lips. 

His gaze darkens as he gets the final button undone, and then he lets the fabric slide off your shoulders. “Yeah. Been wanting to hear you say that for years,” he grunted, sliding his hands up your bare arms. “Been wanting to touch you like this.”

“And now that you can?” You asked in a breathless voice, staring up at him with a look he knew would be permanently burned into his mind. 

“Now that I can,” he started, his hands tracing the curve of your hips as his eyes raked over your chest. “I’m going to do everything I've been dreaming about doing to you...and then some.”

You moan, nodding quickly and making his lips turn upwards into a smirk. 

His hands move to the front of your leggings, his fingers teasing the thin fabric as his tongue runs along the smooth skin of your neck. “You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about this...about having you like this,”

“I think I might have an idea,” you mumbled, tugging at his undershirt. 

Bradley grinned, feeling that warmth return and take over his body again. He pulled away to tug off his shirt and toss it to the side, then he was close to you again. “Yeah? Have you thought about me, too, baby?”

“Nearly every day,” you confessed as his hands moved back to your hips, his thumbs slipping past the waistline of your leggings as he slowly pulled them down. “Nearly every night.”

He groaned at your confession, helping you kick off the flimsy fabric before he was grabbing your hips again. “Fuck, sweetheart, you’ve been driving me crazy for so long,”

Your head tilts back and rests against the wall as his lips pepper kisses all along the base of your throat. “You’ve been making me go insane for years, Bradley,” 

“You’re not the only one who’s been losing your mind over this,” he laughed, sliding his hands up your body until he was caressing the underside of your bra. “I hoped that this would pass, but it never did. The more time we spent together, the more impossible it became. I had this burning need to have you, touch you, taste you.”

He emphasized his words by gripping your hips and spinning you around so your back was pressed against his chest. Your gasp had his boxers tightening, his tongue tracing random shapes onto the skin behind your ear. 

“The way you smile, laugh, and those fucking looks you give me,” he ranted, his breath fanning across your neck. “All the time we’ve spent together, I had to stop myself from taking you right then and there.”

When his hands slid down your body and pulled you closer to him, you moaned loudly, leaning your head back to rest against his shoulder. 

“The sounds you make for me, fuck,” he moaned, tugging on curve of your ear with his teeth. “All I’ve been wanting is to see you fall apart for me, to hear you scream for me…beg for me.”

 “Bradley,” you moaned again, leaning into his touch as his hands found the fabric of your bra, his fingers toying with the straps. 

“I’ve needed you so badly,” he rasped, pulling the strap off your shoulder before leaning down to kiss the newly exposed skin. “I finally have you all to myself. I’m never letting you go.”

“Don’t let me go,” you begged, gripping his forearms tightly. “Please.” 

“Never,” he said in a deep voice. “You’re mine now; mine to taste all over, to make scream.” He grabs your chin, gently turning your head so he could place a firm kiss to your mouth.

You moan, reaching behind you to tug on his hair as you pressed your body against his. “I want that,” you whine and he kisses you deeper, brushing his tongue against yours. 

His fingers played with the clasp of your bra, and soon enough he had the lacy fabric sliding down your arms and landing on the floor. “I need to see you,” he nearly begged, breaking away from your lips as he groped your breasts with dark eyes. 

“Well?” You asked, breathless from his touch as you rolled your hips back against him. 

“Damn, baby, you’re so beautiful,” he commented, leaning down to suck a mark onto the side of your neck. “Been dreaming about how gorgeous you’d look all bare for me, how sweet you’d taste and how pretty you’d sound.” His thumbs slid over your nipples, the devoted attention he was giving them making you whimper. 

“Oh, God,” you bit your lip to stifle the sounds that were coming out of you more frequently now. 

“Don’t hold back, baby,” he mumbled, softly pulling at your nipples with his thumb and index fingers. “I wanna hear all those sounds you make for me.”

You oblige almost immediately, moaning as he continues to worship your chest. “I can’t believe I get to have you like this,” 

“Believe it,” he grunted, smoothing his palms over your hardened nipples as he placed open mouthed kisses on your neck. 

Your body started to shake against his, your perfect lips parting as you let out a string of whimpers. “Feels so good,”

“I’ve barely started,” he cooed, pressing his hardness against your lower back. “You feel perfect in my arms, baby.”

“I want you,” you whined, squeezing your legs together. “I want you so bad.”

“I want you, too,” he groaned, slowly rolling his body into yours, his cock growing impossibly hard. “So badly.”

His hands caressed your breasts in a feather light touch, and he felt goosebumps against his palms as you gasped. “Your hands…I’ve always wanted to feel them on me,” 

“Yeah?” He teased, tracing his fingers around your nipples again, slowly but surely working you into a whiny mess for him.

“Yeah,” you huff, shaking even more. “Holy fuck, you feel so good.”

“So do you,” he growled, pinching your breasts before sliding his hands down your body. “I love touching you like this, but I need to feel more of you.” He murmured, turning you around in his arms so he could get a good look at you.

The way you were pressing your thighs together and the lust he could see in your eyes had him biting down hard on his lip, the sight of you only in a pair of lace panties doing things to him. “Please,” you whined, guiding his hand down your body. 

His eyes rolled back slightly as he leaned his head down and began kissing your shoulders, his hand sliding down your damp panties. “You want me to touch you here?” He asked, knowing damn well what your answer is. 

“Yes, please,” you gave in so sweetly, kicking the ruined fabric aside as you stepped back into his arms. 

He presses kisses to your shoulders as his hand reaches out, his fingers running along your core. “Fuck, baby, you’re so wet,” he groaned, his cock throbbing as he felt just how worked up he made you. 

“All for you,” came your instant reply. Bradley’s eyes darkened as he circled your clit with his middle finger, the way you were trembling against him being the hottest sight he had ever seen.  “Oh, my God, yes.”

“There you go, baby,” he praised, sinking his fingers into your heat. “Give it to me, let me hear you.”

You let out another loud moan, reaching for his flight suit and practically shoving it down his legs. “I need you,” you said desperately. “I need you so bad.”

He could tell. Your wetness was dripping onto his hand as you spoke. 

Bradley kicked off his boots and added his suit to the pile of clothes on the floor, his hands gripping the backs of your thighs as he picked you up and carried you over to your bed. He set you down on your back, his lips pressing to yours as he rolled his hips. “I need you, too,” he promised, pulling away from your lips and settling his head in between your legs. “But I need to taste this pretty pussy first.”

Then he was licking a stripe up your folds and making your back arch off the bed. “Fuck!” You called out, the slick sound of his tongue against you bouncing throughout the room. “Oh, my fucking God, Bradley.”

He laughed, wrapping his arms around your thighs as he slid his tongue inside your wet walls, his eyes rolling back at your taste. “Goddamn, sweetheart,” he moaned, sucking and licking at you like a starved man. “You taste so fucking good, baby.”

“Bradley,” you moaned loudly. “Please, fuck me. I need you…right now.”

His eyes darken even more as he crawls back up your body, and you push his boxers down quickly. You wrap your legs around his waist, bucking your hips up so your core brushes against his aching cock. “I’m gonna make you feel so good, baby,” 

Your brows furrow as he grips his base and guides himself inside you, your back arching again as you wrap your arms around him. “I love you,”

Bradley groaned, your wetness allowing him to sink all the way inside with one thrust. “God, I love you so much,” he said back, holding you against his body as he began to rock his hips against yours. “So much.”

He moved deep inside you, the feeling of skin on skin with nothing in between making his head spin. He hadn’t even asked if you wanted him to use a condom - and he knew it would’ve been a hard task to tear himself away from you and go to his room to get one, but he would’ve done it willingly - but you both seemed too lost in each other to think about it right now. 

You felt so good. Bradley has never been this hard in his entire life, and he knew it was all because of you. “You feel so perfect,” he praised, squeezing his eyes shut as he felt you clench around him. “So tight…fuck.”

“Bradley,” you moaned, wrapping your legs tighter around him as he slowly fucked you against the matress. “You’re so big.”

Your words went right through him, a sense of pride filling him as he looked down at you with lust filled eyes. “You’re so tight,” he echoed his previous words, fucking into you harder but still keeping his pace slow. “So tight for me.”

Your eyes widened and you dropped your head against your pillow. “My fucking God, Bradley,” you gasped, shifting your hips to meet his thrusts. “Yes.”

“Say my name again,” he softly demanded before leaning down to suck a mark onto your neck. “Tell me who’s making you feel so good right now…who’s stretching you so good right now.”

“Bradley!” You cry out, pressing your chest right up against his. “I’ve wanted this for so long…knew you’d feel so good.”

“Baby,” he rasped, fucking into you faster. “You feel so much better than I could have ever imagined.”

Your arousal was dripping onto his thighs as he fucked you harder, his hips hitting yours harshly as he let all the pining and desire he’s felt for you pour out of him. “Don’t stop, please please please,” you begged for him just like he wanted, your hands pulling at his hair. 

He grunted, his eyes flickering down to where you connected. “I’m not stopping, sweetheart, I can’t,” he huffed, watching the way his cock became more and more coated in your wetness with each thrust. “You feel too good, I need you.”

“Yes…yes,” you cried, digging your heel into his lower back and driving him even deeper inside you. “Oh, fuck.”

“Say my name,” he mumbled against your skin, not caring that the walls were pretty thin and anyone who may be in the hallway would definitely be able to hear you. “Say it again.”

“Bradley!” You moaned, scratching your nails down his back. 

His movements were fast, uneven and uncontrolled now as he hiked one of your legs higher around his waist, angling his body so he could push himself impossibly deeper. “That’s my girl,” he cooed, feeling the way you clenched around him at his words. “My girl.”

“Your girl,” you repeated, looking up at him with hooded eyes. 

“Yeah,” he whispered, leaning down so his lips brushed against yours. “My girl.” 

He kissed you deeply, fucking you hard into the bed meant for one person, the sound of your muffled moans filling the room. “God, Bradley, you feel so good…so full,”

Your words were slurred as if you were drunk, but both of you were completely sober right now as you gave into your need for one another. “You feel so good, too,” he mumbled. “So perfect…so tight and wet for me.”

His words were as equally as filthy as yours were, and he couldn’t remember the last time he let himself get this lost in someone; to the point where he couldn’t care less about how dirty his mouth was. 

“I’ve never felt anything better than you, baby,” he swore, reaching down to rub your swollen and puffy clit. “Nothing compares.”

Your jaw goes slack as you let out moan after moan, his words clearly having an effect on you. “I’m so close,” 

“Yeah, I can feel it,” he groaned, rubbing and fucking you harder. His voice was rough and thick with desire, his breaths coming out ragged and uneven. “I want you to come for me. I need to feel you come.”

“Bradley! Right there,” you nearly screamed, clinging onto him with a death grip. “Right there.”

He hummed, “Just like that, baby,” he circled your clit faster, watching as you began to shake. “Come for me.”

Your body jolted and trembled under him, your release flooding around him and soaking his cock. “Oh, fuck. Fuck!” You cried, squeezing your eyes shut as you dug your nails into his shoulders.

“There you go, sweetheart,” he cooed, kissing all over your face as he felt his own release creeping up on him. “God, I never want this to end.”

You whimpered, wrapping your arms around his neck and messily kissing him. He could feel you shaking still, but you didn’t ask him to stop or pull out, instead you just pulled him closer to you and whined against his lips. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, kissing you softly as he got closer and closer. “So perfect.”

“I want you to come for me,” you mumbled in between kisses. 

Bradley groaned, licking along your lips. “I want that, too,” he said. “I wanna come for you…only you.”

“Only me,” you whispered with a lazy smile, slowly rolling your hips to meet his thrusts.

He nodded, his eyes nearly shut as he managed to ask, “Where? Where can I-”

“Inside me,” you answered, your heel on his back keeping him from pulling out too much. “I want it inside me.”

Bradley’s eyes squeezed shut as he felt his control snap. “Fuck…fuck, I’m coming, baby,” he groaned deeply, fucking his seed into your abused core. You moan quietly, running your fingers through his sweaty hair as his body shakes from the intensity of it all. He had never come that hard before, and when he slowly came to a stop, he could feel it seeping around him and dripping out of you. He also never came that much before. “That….that was-”

“I know,” you beamed, kissing him softly as you kept your legs wrapped around him. “I love you so much.”

Bradley smiles down at you, kissing you back. “I love you, too,” he promised as he rolled you onto your sides, still buried inside you. 

“Stay with me?” You asked as you kissed along his salty skin. 

After years of wanting to experience this with you and have you all to himself, he was finally able to, and he wasn’t planning on ever leaving your side again. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,”

You smile, trailing your hand up and down his back. “So…what does this mean for us?”

Bradley tangles his fingers in your hair, holding you close to him. “I want to call you my girlfriend, sweetheart,” he whispered. “Will you let me?”

You close your eyes, letting out a quiet groan. “I want to be your girlfriend so badly,”

“Then it’s settled,” he stated, pulling you even closer as a grin tugged at his lips. “You’re my girlfriend.”

Your hands slide up to his shoulder as you kiss him. “And you’re my boyfriend,”

Bradley smiled as he kissed you back. “And I’m going to make sure I’m the best boyfriend you’ve ever had,”

“You better be the best and last,” you warn playfully, laying your head on his chest. 

“Don’t worry, baby,” he laughed, running his hand along your lower back. “You’re stuck with me.”

A blush takes over your face as you kiss the scar on his neck. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,” 

-

They fucked again after that btw. Happy Birthday, Bradley Bradshaw!

[thegoldfishkid13]

Revenge part 1

Iceman x female reader

Warnings:Blood, fighting, swearing, drinking, smoking, guns , violence ect

Au: Mafia

Authors note: I will be posting a list of characters I will write for soon but if people wanna send in requests I will gladly write them if I know who it is. Also thank you for all the support you have given me on other posts. This is also going to be pretty short because I'm tired and don't feel like putting this in my drafts. I also ran out of ideas oops!

Masterlist

Standing in the bathroom connected to your room you flatten the dress you are wearing again. A knock on the bathroom door startles you, you have been on edge since you got Intel that the person who killed your father is in town again. The door opens and your husband's Pete "Maverick" Mitchell and Tom "Iceman" kaczynski are standing there.

"well don't you look stunning"Maverick was the first one to speak, he was the one sending you on this mission. He knew you wanted the revenge on the person who had taken your father's life far too early.

" Thank you mav."you spoke as you pick up your makeup brush to finish doing your makeup. Needing to leave soon for the party you and slider another co-worker of yours who is also in the mafia. He was accompanying you to this dance because he was the only one who you trusted with your life besides Iceman and Maverick. Cyclone the person who had killed your father would be attending this party and he knows that Iceman and Maverick want him dead. The last time you saw him you sat next to your father's dead body laying in the middle of the street.

"slider will be here soon. Be careful I don't want anything to happen to you. "Iceman smiles and leans in to kiss your cheek. You hear the front door open and shut and slider call out to see if anyone was home or where you guys were. The dress you were wearing was black silk with a slit on the right side that goes up to your mid thigh. With a deep v-neckline.

Grabbing your clutch you give a quick kiss to Maverick and ice and head out the door with slider. The ride was silent there was nothing to talk about you had all been in the meeting about it earlier. Nick Bradshaw AKA goose would be at this event helping you spy. He worked at the same law firm that you used for a cover story. He was with you the day your father died and he wanted revenge as much as you did. Your father was like a father to him.

"you look nice today Y/n"slider finally broke the silence. You opened up the glove compartment to grab the gun and slipped it into the holster that was attached to your thigh by a garter belt. Thanking him you get out of the car and wait for goose to get there. Goose showed up with his wife Carol. His son Bradley nowhere in sight thankfully. Walking into the building this event would be held at you spot cyclone and his partner warlock. Trying to keep a safe distance so they don't notice you staring you begin to interact with the others. Something's bugging you so you had to pay phone that was a little bit away.

"hey."he spoken to the payphone.

"Y/n is that you?"

"yes. I have a bad feeling about this."

" has her been doing anything out of the ordinary?" The person on the other line asks.

" he keeps scanning the room like he's looking for somebody. He has also been slowly making his way towards where we are but we keep shifting and turning so he doesn't catch on to us. He also has part of his gang with him. I just have a really bad feeling about this." You speak into the phone.

The man on the other side didn't answer. Just a clicking sound like he hung up. You hear a gun click behind you. You realize who you had just been talking on the phone with, he knew what you were up to this would be the end of you or so you thought.

[bradshawshawaiianshirt]

Stuck on the Past | Part 1

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Ex-girlfriend!Reader

Summary: You never thought you'd see Bradley Bradshaw again, especially the way things ended between the two of you. So what happens when he's suddenly back for a special mission and is determined to win you back too?

Warnings: Angst (ish), adult language, drinking

Length: 1.8k

You couldn't remember the last time you'd gone out on a Saturday night. Your friends had been begging you to join them for a while, that much you knew, but with how stressful work had been, time seemed to slip out of your hands.

That was until this Saturday. Finally you'd been given the weekend off, and as much as you wanted to spend it in bed binge-watching all the Netflix you'd missed, you ended up deciding that a few drinks wouldn't hurt.

How wrong you were.

Thinking back, it started going south as soon as April mentioned going to the Hard Deck. Sure, you'd been a few times since it opened, and you thought it was a nice place, but you couldn't deny the strange feeling in your gut, almost like a warning. Maybe that should have been a sign that this wasn't going to be your night, but you ignored it, and decided to have fun instead of worrying so much.

"Hey!" April grinned as you walked in, standing from the booth your friends had claimed slightly away from the bar, "I was starting to wonder if you really existed all this time."

She laughed, giving you a quick hug before you sat down with the rest of your friends, "It hasn't been that long." You said, rolling your eyes as April pushed a drink towards you.

"Yes. It has." She smirked, "So drink up. We're making this a night to remember."

You were a couple drinks in, laughing with one of your friends, when the jukebox music cut out. You didn't take much notice until you heard it. The piano. April frowned, "Is someone playing the piano? How cool is that! Let's go look."

You stood and slowly followed her towards the edge of the bar. You knew who was playing. Of course, you knew. It was the same song he used to play years ago, when you were both barely in your 20s. Young, in love, and stupid.

April gripped your hand and dragged you forward to get a better view of the singer. There he was. He had grown, definitely, but he was still the same old Bradley Bradshaw. All smiles and laughs as he played the piano and sang along with his friends. As much as you wanted to, you couldn't look away. You dragged your eyes to your side to look at April, who's face began to fall in realisation.

"No. Way." She turned to you, searching your face for any sign that you might cry, "Please tell me that's not who I think it is."

You nodded, mouth dry from shock as you grabbed her hand and dragged her towards the restroom, locking both of you in a stall. You sighed, ran your hand through your hair and sat on the lid of the toilet seat.

April had both of her hands on her hips, her mouth in a tight frown, "What the hell is he doing here? Isn't it enough that he broke your heart, huh? And now what? Now he's suddenly back in San Diego! Seriously?! What the actual-"

"April." You interrupted, standing up and putting your hands on her shoulders, "It's fine. I'm.. I'm fine." She nodded, taking a deep breath as you sat back onto the lid of the toilet, "And anyway," you shrugged, "He didn't really.. break my heart."

April scoffed, "You have to be joking. You cried over him for like a year! I thought you were about to swear off men forever after him!"

"Probably would have been a good idea." You chuckled, "I meant that.. you know, it was mutual."

April rolled her eyes, "Whatever. What's our game plan?"

"What?"

"Well, for starters, I'm not letting you leave now we've seen him. You need to show him that this didn't affect you. Stand up."

You stood to face your longest friend. She'd been there when you'd met Bradly the very first time, and she'd been the one to pick up the pieces after he'd left. As much as April could be demanding, most of the time she had a point. The only thing you wanted to do right now was run, but you also knew that if he saw you leave it would look like it was because of him, and you didn't want him to have any sort of power over you like that. Not anymore.

You took a deep breath, "Okay, I'm not leaving. Let's go get shots." You were trying to sound confident, but your voice was wobbly and your breathing was uneven. Yeah, tequila was definitely going to help.

-

April ordered some drinks, and you both did a shot of tequila each at the bar. It did calm some of your nerves, but just knowing he was around was setting you off again. You sat back down with the rest of your friends and gazed around the room. Maybe you were in the clear? He'd sang one song and decided to leave?

Just as you felt better, you glanced to the other side of the room, at the pool table, where eyes were already on you. He looked just as shocked as you did, his mouth half open and eyebrows raised, grip tight on his pool stick. You felt yourself freeze. Should you smile? Wave? Shit, the longer you two just stared at each other the more awkward this was getting.

You blinked a couple times before quickly standing, "I'm getting another drink." Your friends were in deep conversation, but you assumed they heard you and hurried towards the bar.

You ordered another round of drinks before you felt someone stand beside you. You looked up and there he was, tall and muscular, very different from the boy you'd known all those years ago.

He grinned, "I thought it was you. I saw you in the crowd while I was playing but then I couldn't find you after." You opened your mouth and closed it again, trying to find words that wouldn't make you sound stupid. Before you could, your drinks were placed in front of you. "You need help carrying those?" He pointed at the four drinks on the bar.

You quickly shook your head, muttered a 'no thanks' and grabbed two in each hand, hurrying off to the booth your friends were sat in. Bradley watched you walk away and mentally kicked himself. He'd practiced what he was going to say to you since he saw you in the crowd earlier in the night. It could have gone better, but then again, what's left to say to someone you both hurt and never quite forgave?

-

You figured you'd stayed long enough that April would let you leave if you wanted to, so you grabbed your handbag, hugged your friends goodbye and made your way to the front of the bar. You felt your phone buzz in your pocket. It was April.

Let me know when you get home safe. You did great tonight. He's not worth it!! See you soon x

You smiled and searched through your phone to find an Uber.

"On your way home?" You turned to see Bradley. Just when you thought you'd made your escape.

"Uh, yeah." You took a moment to really look at him. He had this hopeful look to him, you realised, like he actually wanted to talk to you. You sighed, "Just trying to get an Uber."

"You don't have to." He rubbed the back of his neck, eyes trained on the ground, "Look, I know things are awkward. It's been a long time. But, I can take you home. I've barely drank, I'm good to drive. If you want, that is."

He finally met your eyes as you shrugged. "It's been a really long time. I never thought I'd see you back here." You bit your lip, thinking over the situation, "But, sure. If you're offering, I'd like a ride."

He smiled and nodded, relieved that you hadn't ran away from him. He probably wouldn't have blamed you if you did. But this was something.

The drive to your apartment was quiet. You could feel Bradley glancing at you now and then, but you couldn't risk looking at him. You were already in his car, the same old Bronco he'd had since you'd known him. April was gonna freak when you told her tomorrow.

"How've you been?" He broke the silence as he stopped at a red light, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel.

"Good. Busy." You answered, "You?"

"Yeah, good. A lot of deployments but it's been fine." He took a glance in your direction as the light changed, "I wasn't planning on coming back. There's this mission. I'm not supposed to talk about it-"

"It's fine." You cut him off. That made more sense. There was no way he'd come back here for you. That just confirmed it.

He sighed. You wondered if he was regretting offering you a ride home. Probably. "You look good." He said instead.

Your head whipped round to look at him, "Don't start."

He was smirking, "What?" He glanced at you again, feigning innocence, "I know things are awkward but am I not allowed to compliment my favourite ex-girlfriend?"

You cleared your throat and turned towards the window, "Your compliments were never just compliments, Bradley. They always led to something else and you know it."

You felt your cheeks heat up as he glanced at you again, a small smile on his face. "Would that be a bad thing?"

He pulled up in front of your building, turning to face you fully as he turned off the engine. You turned to him, arms crossed and voice sharp, "Yes. It would be a bad thing. History is a there for a reason and I don't wanna repeat it." You opened his door and stepped outside, "Oh! And by the way, you are definitely not my favourite ex-boyfriend!"

Bradley chuckled, "I always used to love it when you'd get angry, your cheeks get all flushed. It's cute."

You mouth hung open, what was he playing at? "Thanks for the ride." You said, shutting his car door and walking towards your apartment building with a huff. Even when you unlocked your apartment door, you couldn't quite believe what had happened. How dare he flirt with you like that? You two hadn't talked in years!

You climbed into bed and decided to sleep it off. At least you wouldn't be forced to see him again. You'd be at work and he'd be on his stupid mission. That was something.

Bradley stayed parked outside after he dropped you off. Partly to make sure you got in okay, but also to really think about what he had actually been suggesting. He hadn't seen you in years. Sure, you crossed his mind every now and then, sometimes he'd stalk your social media to see what you were up to, but he didn't know you anymore. You guys had history, that was true. The worst part about it? He didn't think repeating history would be a bad thing at all, especially if it was with you.

[captainsophiestark]

Winglets

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2024!

Fandom: Top Gun

Day Twenty-Three Prompt: "We can fix this, I know we can."

Summary: Rooster and his SO are housesitting for Penny while she, Mav, and Amelia are on vacation. A relaxing staycation turns into a schoolwork refresher course when they get a little carried away.

Word Count: 1,578

Category: Fluff, Humor, maybe a little bit of Angst?

A/N: Happy Halloween!!

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"Oh... Bradley."

Bradly hummed, his face buried in my neck and his arms wrapped tight around my waist. I ran my hands through his hair, tipping my head back further to give him better access.

"Are you still upset that Mav left you home?" I teased, running my hands across his shoulders. Bradley huffed a laugh.

"Nah. I'll trade an extended family vacation for this."

I grinned, then let out a little shriek as Bradley wrapped his arms around my thighs and hoisted me up, moving back towards the counter by the wall. My back hit something, hard, and I didn't think much of it until I heard a concerningly loud crash a moment later.

Bradley and I both froze on the spot. Slowly, without moving any more than we had to, Bradley and I pulled back enough to look at each other. His expression of terror exactly matched the feeling in my chest.

The two of us were having a little couples staycation while housesitting for Mav, Penny, and Amelia. The three of them were going on their first ever vacation as a family, and they'd asked Bradley and I to stay over at their place while they were gone. It'd been a nice break from base housing, and we'd been enjoying some uniterrupted alone time. But whatever that crash had been, it didn't sound good.

My eyes didn't leave Bradley's as he glanced over my shoulder. He paled and swore, and that was enough to get me in motion.

I pushed us both away from the counter, then whirled out of Bradley's arms to see how bad it was for myself. My heart dropped.

Amelia's science fair project, which had been sitting on the counter until a few moments ago, now lay shattered on the floor.

"Holy shit," I breathed, just staring in horror for a moment before finally whirling back to Bradley. "Holy shit! What did we just do?"

He shook his head, grave and still way more pale than normal.

"Amelia's going to kill us. And then Mav's going to kill us. And then Penny."

"We're the worst," I said, turning back to the project and shaking my head. My stomach was still down by my feet, a claw of guilt wrapped tight around my chest. "How did we not notice that? Dammit, out of every single countertop in this house, how did we manage to pick this one?"

I heard Bradley take a deep breath from behind me, and then his arm wrapped around my shoulder. I was ready to shake him off—neither of us should be getting comfort right now—but he spoke before I could say as much.

"Alright, this is bad. But it doesn't have to stay that way. We just have to keep a clear head and be smart."

"Baby, I think we're already past the point where being smart could've saved us."

"Not quite."

His hand dropped from around my shoulders, and he moved to crouch next to the broken science project. He picked up a few of the bigger pieces, turning them over in his hands, and then surveyed the poster board that went with it. That, at least, looked mostly still intact.

"We can fix this," he finally said, turning back to me, "I know we can."

"Bradley, it is shattered-"

"It's an airplane aerodynamics project with an arts and crafts execution. I'm a Navy pilot and I've seen you build an F1 car model without the instruction manual. This is exactly our experise."

I closed my eyes and sighed, trying to get a little space from the guilt and panic to think clearly. Bradley was right; the only chance we had to keep this from being a complete and total disaster was to stay calm and be smart. I took a few deep breaths, and when I opened my eyes again, the panic had been mostly replaced by a steely determination.

"Alright. Alright, you make a good point. Let's give it a try."

"Great! Come help me pick up all these pieces, we can set up on the kitchen table. We've still got a day before they get home."

"It took Amelia like two weeks to put this thing together."

"Yeah, but we're not starting from scratch. Come on, positive thoughts."

*****************

The next several hours were chaos. Bradley and I managed to get all the pieces of Amelia's model airplane wings picked up off the floor, but hardly any of it was salvageable. We set everything on the counter, grabbed some pens and paper, and started planning out the best reconstruciton we could get. Luckily, Bradley had to know quite a bit about aerodynamics as a pilot. With the two of us working together and reading off of Amelia's notes, we managed to come up with a plan for putting things back together exactly as they had been.

Putting that plan into motion was where the real chaos came in.

After a quick run to buy supplies, Bradley and I had turned the kitchen counter into a mad scientist's workstation, with bits and pieces of our project laid out everywhere. I worked carefully to put the airplane wings back together while Bradley directed my placement of the arrows and squiggly plastic pieces denoting airflow, pressure, lift, and everything else Amelia needed to cover in her project.

"Okay, those small spirals go on the wing without the winglets."

"Are they seriously called winglets?" I asked, not glancing up from the project in my hands as I worked.

"Yes. Do you want help?"

"Yeah, hold the wing while I take the glue and our little plastic spiral."

Bradley stepped closer, his hands remarkable steady as I went to work. The spirals were supposed to show the air vortices that formed around the wing tip, and how they impacted lift when the little winglets weren't there to slow down their path. The whole time we'd been working on this project, I'd been impressed. Amelia knew a lot, and she'd found some pretty cool ways to show it.

"Alright, just hold that together for a few minutes," I said, leaning away and setting the hot glue gun down once I was done. Bradley did as I said, resting his forearms on the counter and settling in. I surveyed the rest of the countertop. "We're pretty close to done now, aren't we?"

Bradley looked around too, and I could see him going through his own mental checklist. We'd started this little project just after dinner, and now, we were into the early hours of the next morning with no sleep. It was good for both of us to be double-checking each other.

"I think so," he finally said with a nod. "Although we still have to figure out how to replace the couple of things that got messed up on her trifold."

I waved him off. "Easy. All we have to do is retype it on a laptop, print it out, and stick it back where it belongs."

Bradley nodded again, and I put a hand on his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze before standing from the kitchen stool.

"I'll go knock it out while you supervise the last of our gluing. We're in the home stretch."

He shot me a tired smile, and I headed to the living room to quickly replace the missing pieces of the trifold. Thankfully, we didn't run into any new complications as we put everything back into its final place. The sun was just starting to come up outside, but when Bradley and I stepped back from the counter, his arm around my shoulders as we admired our work, it looked perfect.

"I can't believe we actually managed to pull that off," I said, huffing a laugh and shaking my head. Bradley squeezed my shoulders, and when I glanced at him, I found him grinning at me.

"I can. We did a great job."

I smiled. "Yeah. Crazy, but we do really make a good team."

He leaned down to place a soft, sweet kiss on my lips. Then, instead of pulling back, he stayed close enough to speak lowly in my ear.

"You know, that was a pretty outstanding parenting move if you ask me. Maybe it's time we-"

"HELL no, Bradshaw," I said, taking a step back with a gentle push on Bradley's chest. "And that's both to having kids right now, and to doing anything more than soft pecks with our hands mostly to ourselves until we get the hell out of this house. We don't have time to fix this whole thing again."

Bradley laughed, pulling me back into his side, and the sound warmed my chest.

"Alright, alright, message recieved. It might be a good idea to wait and see if Amelia notices anything before we celebrate, anyway."

"Welp, we're not gonna have to wait long for that one. Come on, let's go get some sleep before she, Penny, and Mav get home. I'm so tired that if she even glances at me after seeing the project I'll probably crack."

Bradley laughed again as the two of us headed off to the spare bedroom, arms around each other. I'd won the lottery when I'd found him, my perfect wingman in every aspect of life, and I knew he felt the same about me. From science fair projects to beef with coworkers to big life emergencies, there was no one I'd rather have on my side than him.

Even though that love and affection had been the thing to get us in trouble in the first place tonight.

*****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen @misshale21

Top Gun Taglist: @elenavampire21

[annathesillyfriend]

Hey there! I hope summer is treating you well 🌞I am currently crying over the fact that I didnt get to see Lizzo at a festival 30 km away from me last week and that I won't see Harry tomorrow in Warsaw, so I decided to distract myself with making this list 😅 I hope that next time I'll be able to tell you that I menaged to get Taylor tickets, so please keep your fingers crossed for me 🥰

To all the writers - I love you and I appreciate you so much!

To all the readers - please, share the fics you read and love. The reblog really makes the change! It’s the least we can do to show our gratitude.

Also, please, mind the writers’ warnings!

🌊JAKE 'HANGMAN' SERESIN🌊

it's what you make it and and honey, i'll make it all okay by @seresinhangmanjake

↳ two-shot, part of oh, baby universe which is an amazing dad!jake series and you should totally give it a try

you're safe now and bite me by @seresinsweetie

↳ two-shot, 18+, enemies to friends to lovers, i want a weighted blanket for my birthday this year and by weighted blanket i mean jake seresin on top of me, please and thank you

crossing all the lines by @//seresinsweetie

↳ one-shot, 18+, not it's time for a rooster x hangman x reader threesome and it's as hot as it sounds 🥵

hungman by @ddejavvu

↳ one-shot, 18+, roommate!camboy!jake, do i have to say more? whenever i see Daisy's url on my dash, i drop everything i'm doing and go read, such a talented writer!

a love you don't find everyday by @//beccaanne814

↳ series, this story has kept me on my toes and then surprised me in the best way possible, amazing fic 💕

head on your chest, heart in your hands by @jupitercomet

↳ one-shot, soft!jake has a special place in my heart

same 'ol situation by @topguncortez

↳ one-shot, 18+, roommate!jake and it's so good!!

🌊BRADLEY 'ROOSTER' BRADSHAW🌊

how could i forget by @roosterforme

↳ one-shot, I put this particular fic here because it was the first one I read in June but I recommend going through Emily's whole masterlist. I could go on and on about how talented she is 👏I start every single one of my days by reading one of her works. Like literally every day. Thank you for making my morning more bearable 💕

give me your hand and here is my heart by @sometimesanalice

↳ two-shot, 18+, this is a part of a bigger universe that I love with my whole being. please, do yourself a favour and go read it all!

hey, salior by @//sometimesanalice

↳ one-shot, 18+, i am YELLING

warm blood by @notroosterbradshaw

↳ one-shot, another phenomenal fic from another phenomenal author 👏👏 keep slaying!

home and viva la vegas by @honeysimagines

↳ two-shot, i read this like four times in the last month, my love for those fics is out of control

i'll guide you by @bradshawsbitch

↳ one-shot, 18+, i get dizzy and warm all over just by thinkign about this fic 👀

you left your name on my lips by @blurredcolour

↳ one-shot, beautiful fic!

love and loss by @bradshawsbaby

↳ one-shot, what a stunning piece. we all need this kind of support in our lives

if i knew it all then, would i do it again? by @ofstoriesandstardust

↳ one-shot, part of the same mistakes-verse which is a god tier series. this one left me speechless

i was supposed to sweat you out by @theharddeck

↳ one-shot, 18+, friends with benefits, simply delicious 👏👏

i think i love you by @thewulf

↳ one-shot, best friends to lovers, i loved this so very much

where do we go? by @thatlovinfeelin

↳ series, 18+, amazing fic, beautiful story!

salt air, and the rust on your door by @daniellarussoo

↳ one-shot, just a sweet little husband!bradly fic 😌

to love and be loved by @callsigncherub

↳ one-shot, i seriously debated jumping into the sea after reading this one

all consuming by @inklore

↳ one-shot, 18+, Lauren's back at it again with a bloody banger

🌊JAVY 'COYOTE' MACHADO🌊

a little bit of fun and it's not rotten work (not if it's you) by @sushiwriterhere

↳ two-shot, 18+, javy x reader x jake fics, this is just great, i love everything about those stories

the double negative effect by @beyondthesefourwalls

↳ one-shot, there are not enough javy fics out there so i cherish every single one i find, especially ones as good as this one!

training accident by @//foreverrandomwritings

↳ one-shot, another great javy story!

🌊ROBERT 'BOB' FLOYD🌊

supernova by @laracrofted

↳ one-shot, 18+, bob x reader x pheonix threesome, a dream come true 😫

the worst date by @lovingperfectionsblog

↳ one-shot, love this one 💕

the wingman by @//roosterforme

↳ one-shot, 18+, okay we all aready know how much i adore Emily's work but i just had to put this one here cause bob needs all the love he can get!!

shut up and dance with me by @beccaanne814

↳ one-shot, man, the things i'd so for him to dance with me

sick day by @writingdumpster

↳ one-shot, bob's a little bit stuborn here but we're gonna let it slip just this once

girl in a coffee shop by @ohgodnotagainn

↳ one-shot, coffee shop!au, bob as a barista!!!! yes yes yes that all i need in life

🌊MICKEY ' FANBOY' GARCIA🌊

opposites attract by @foreverrandomwritings

↳ one-shot, husband!mickey and he's just so 🥺🥺

🌊STEVE HARRINGTON🌊

all the time by @bookshelf-dust

↳ one-shot, friends to lovers and fake dating -> ✨cheff's kiss✨

cardigan by @supernovafics

↳ one-shot, professor!steve x professor!reader, angst with happy ending, great work 👏

car kisses by @iridescentprose

↳ one-shot, there is just something so kissable about steve driving a car. i would, too, risk my life to pour some love on that man

this fic by @spicysix

↳ one-shot, being stuck in an elevator may not be an ideal situation but it's whole other thing when steve harrington is there with you

steve-o by @bettysupremacy

↳ one-shot, i just adore this steve

midnight love by @loveshotzz

↳ one-shot, 18+, fuck boy!steve but we fall for him anyway

this fic by @lovebugism

↳ one-shot, 18+, SO DAMN BLOODY GOOD i can't even

this fic by @forever-rogue

↳ one-shot, broke my heart and put it right back together

bad for ussiness by @upsidedownwithsteve

↳ series, 18+, enemies to lovers is the superior trope and this fic is the perfect example, my favourite steve fic honestly

a good dream by @solarluvs

↳ one-shot, 18+, the fact that this will never happen to me in real life is just criminal

keep trying by @lilacletter

↳ one-shot, 18+, an obligatory baby making fic™, they just hit different

cool about it by @mysticmunson

↳ one-shot, if you feel like getting your heart broken, that's a fic for you :')

this love by @forevermoreharrington

↳ one-shot, 18+, a masterpiece really

🌊EDDIE MUNSON🌊

brain like a sieve by @munsster

↳ one-shot, AHHHHHHHHHH is all i have to say on this 😅

sunscreen and chlorine and blue raspberry syrup by @eiightysixbaby

↳ two-shot, 18+, lifeguard!eddie, perfect summer read, just like ice cream on a hot day 🙌

something like this by @taintedcigs

↳ one-shot, a good old truth or dare fic, just what we all love

love me tender by @oneforthemunny

↳ one-shot, 18+, janitor!eddie x teacher!reader, what a stunning piece of work that is 🥺

hot rod by @shamevillain

↳ one-shot, 18+, you will need a shower after reading this 🥵

🌊RHETT ABBOTT🌊

right where i want you by @//sushiwriterhere

↳ one-shot, 18+, sort of enemies to lovers, i am so normal about this 🙂

hell on heels (part 2) by @strawhbrrries

↳ two-shot, 18+, that bloody cowboy will send us all straight to hell

wildflower, widefire by @sebsxphia

↳ series, 18+, the perfect balance between sweet and sexy 😌😌

the ferris wheel by @lewmagoo

↳ one-shot, i just wanna share funnel cake with rhett abbott, is that too much to ask???

invisible string by @wkndwlff

↳ one-shot, 18+, BEAUTIFUL 😭😭

[warnersister]

Show Me The Way Home, Honey

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Simpson!Reader

Summary: The men at top gun love a bit of sweetness, turn out a bit of helicopter honey was just the right amount.

Warnings: mentions of injury, head injury, parental death, angst, allusions to smut, fluff, parental fighting, plane crashes, it's a happy story i promise.

Flashbacks In Italics -> not my gif

All the aviators were gathering by the pool table, each wondering why their peers from years before surrounded them at the Hard Deck. Hangman had just taken a shot against Coyote before standing up, having recognised a familiar head of hair.

“Well if it ain’t Honey!” You stood at the bar, chatting with Penny while sipping on your second beer. You were famous at top gun, being Beau Simpson’s daughter after all. You were training at top gun around the same time as the rest of the pilots in the room, however flying the Air Ambulance and mountain rescue helicopters.

You turned around to the unforgettable voice, the face you were expecting stood before you, smirk adorning his tanned lips. “Hangman, you got old.” A few laughed at your remark but he just chuckled, pulling you into a hug as you embraced him tightly. “Didn’t expect to see you here, darlin’.” He hummed. “Could same the same for you, Jake.”

Your fame here in California wasn’t necessarily due to your father’s rankings, but the name you had made for yourself. It was your own decision to join the Navy, despite your fathers wishes to keep your feet safely planted on terrafirma - away from the dangers of the sky. But after almost a decade of your adamance and training, you were off, deployed on battleships or costal air bases - send to retrieve wounded or stranded fighter pilots when their missions had been unsuccessful.

God it must’ve been a decade since you’ve seen everyone, but these naval aviators couldn’t forget a face that easily - at least not yours.

You were 24, fresh from your required nursing training and now ready to earn your wings. You were accompanied by your father on your first day, getting a prologued lecture that you had yet to start paying attention too. “And watch out for those fast jet pilots. Don’t take no shit off of ‘em.” You raised a brow. “Why what’s wrong with fighter pilots?” You queries, your walk nearing to a close. “Long story short, the think with their dicks.” You scrunched your nose. “Jesus, dad couldn’t you have phrased that better?” He just shrugged and turned your shoulders to face him properly. “But I’m serious, if they try anything come tell me.” You nodded, a small smile on your lips. “Have a great day sweetie, I love you.” He kissed your forehead and gave you a big hug. “I’m starting pilot training, not kindergarten - I’ve been through two years of naval training and six of nursing.” You laughed, just still reciprocated. “I know, but your still my little girl, the only person I got.” Your mum died a while back, it still stung but you both knew you could always rely on the other. “I know, Cyclone.”

You started walking towards the hangar, but heard behind you “it’s admiral to you, lieutenant.” You shook your head, and headed for your first day - the first step into the rest of your life.

The hangar was decorated accordingly, at least ten sparkling and fresh F-18s sat, just waiting for their aviator to fly it. You continued walking, silently passing an ongoing lesson as you spotted your own adjacent to the helipad.

The clicking of boots was loud against the floor, echoing off of the metal of the hangar - the curious minds of the navy’s best fighters looking behind them to find the cause of the sound and god, they weren’t disappointed. There you walked, a stern look on your face, hair trailing gently as a slight breeze blew through the build, aviator glasses sitting atop of your head, and eyes glittering with adoration as you examined the aircraft.

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin was one of those watching you, a low whistle exerted his lips. “What have we here?” As he said that, Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw lowered his glasses to get a better look than he was already getting. “Now she is mighty fine.” Hangman continued, but Rooster couldn’t say anything, the only thing leaving his mouth was a trail of drool - he wasn’t alone, quite a few of the trainees now distracted, rather than listening to their instructor.

There were three of you training to fly the copter. A girl called Darla and a boy named Simon were both in your shoes. Your first day you were taken for a ride by your own teacher, Hurricane.

You had heard a few of the students mention a nearby bar that was overly friendly to the top gun pilots, so you assumed it wouldn’t hurt giving it a once over that evening. “Penny?” You asked, and the bar hostess turned around at the sound of her name, eyes lighting up when she spotted you. “Oh my god I haven’t seen you since-” She trailed off when she ran over to hug you. “My mum passed, yeah… been off training I’m officially an aviator now.” She raised her brows. “Beau Simpson allowed his daughter to join the navy?” “Not really, but not got much’ve of a say in it now!” You laughed. “Make sure those fast jet pilots keep it in her pants.” She raised her brows. “Damn are they really that bad? Thought my dad was just being dramatic.”

Penny swung back around the busting bar and asked what she could get you. “Just a beer, please.” “Coming up, sweetie!”

You took your drink and headed to the juke box, opting for ‘you've lost that loving feeling’ by The Righteous Brothers. You always loved that song, your dad playing it you when he spoke about when he himself was a top gun graduate. “You lost that lovin’ feeling, sugar?” You heard from beside you. There stood a tanned man, broad shoulders and toned arms that he was definitely flexing, a Hawaiian shirt and a pair of aviators to accompany the moon beyond the windows. “Ain’t lost it just yet.” You replied, taking a drink from your glass. “Names Bradshaw, call sign Rooster.” He offered his hand. “Simpson, call sign Honey.” You took it but instead of shaking it, he brought it to his lips and kissed it gently. “Mhm, sweet light honey, I get the name.” You laughed at the man. “Good to meet you, Bradshaw.” “Whatcha flying?” He asked. “How’d you know I’m flying?” “Saw ya in the hangar.” “Stalking me now?” “Always been drawn to the gorgeous ones.”

You eyed him, before replying. “Helicopters. I’m a nurse, you?” “F-18s, honey.” These were the ones you were warned about, the fighter pilots. But still, you were your fathers daughter - never one for really listening to instructions. “Using my call sign now? Could've at least bought me a drink first.” “Ain’t a call sign more like an observation. PENNY! ANOTHER FOR THIS MIGHTY FINE GAL, PLEASE!”

“How ya been?” He leant his arm against the bar, trapping you slightly. “I’m good hangman, I’m very good, you?” He chuckled and hummed in agreement.

you had been a member of top gun for a few weeks now, and you were enduring a PT session, courtesy of Hurricane. "Up, down." Push ups were gruelling after a full day of strength training, you'd been training so long even some of the fighters were calling it a day. through your peripheral you noticed someone perch beside you and you could only guess who it was when they started doing push ups at double the rate that you were going. "Give it up, Hangman." you huffed, pushing yourself down again. "Come on honey, double time!" and he nudged his hip against your own, sending you off balance. "JAKE! FOR GODS SAKE!" you groaned, keeling over and hitting him.

"Stay away from my pilots, jet boy." Hurricane grunted. "You're dismissed Honey, great work today." "Thank you, captain." Hangman offered his hand once you had gotten your breath back and you took it, heaving you up. he pulled you so close that your chest smashed against his. "Woah if you wanted to kiss you, just had to say darlin' after all, you're looking mighty fine." You rolled your eyes and pushed him off - "In your dreams, Seresin." "You're certainly in my dreams." He slung an arm around your shoulder and winked at you, escorting you to the showers before he had to leave you.

"You finally shake off the leach?" A woman also in the showers asked, a sarcastic smile on her lips. "Only thing stopping him was the female sign on the door." You replied and both shared a laugh, "Phoenix, you must be the famous Honey." "That's my name," You grinned. "You gonna be down at the Hard Deck tonight?" You thought for a moment. "Sure, see you there."

"Well how-howdy little, lil lady!" A voice exclaimed from behind you and you spun around at the voice. A little boy wearing a small pair of western boots, belt wrapped around his waist about three times to hold up the flared jeans he was wearing, vest and a pink Hawaiian shirt hanging open. He tipped his cattleman hat, and lowered his aviator glasses that were about a hundred sizes too big for him, almost falling off of his nose when he moved to rest his hands sassily on his hips. You knelt in front of the boy and gasped, raising your hand and fluttering your eyelashes as you feigned flattery. "Well hello handsome, don't you look nice?" He dropped his facade and giggled, stomping his little feet. you grabbed the boy as you stood up and sat him on the bar, keeping your hands on his waist so he didn't fall.

Hangman cleared his throat. "Who's this?"

you were stood at the pool table playing against Coyote while he was actively trying to flirt with you, just humming when he was bragging about some trip himself and hangman had managed to pull off on their flight today, before you were saved by Phoenix brining you a drink over. 'Life saver' you had mouthed to her, and she just nodded with a wink, pulling you away when you had won the game, Coyote much too busy trying to swoon you to realise the eight ball had already been played. "Hey, darlin'!" You turned to see Rooster, smirk adorning his face as he approached you. "Hey Brad," he began to engage in conversation before everyone's attention was drawn to where Penny's voice directed. "Beau, didn't think I'd see you anytime soon!" He laughed and hugged her, "Still human Pen, just getting better pay." All top gun members throats went dry, their relaxed evening seemingly turning into a drill session within seconds. he looked at the group and waved you over with a smile, everyone's jaws hanging open when he pecked your forehead and started up talk. "Hey dad!"

"Holy shit." Payback groaned. "Simpson, of course." Bradley said. "Well, you know what they say - get the father to like ya, get the daughter." Hangman said as he began approaching the two of you. "No one fucking says that, Bagman." Phoenix remarked, but he was away before he could be stopped.

"Admiral!" Hangman laid a hand on your shoulder and grinned at his superior, your fathers eyebrows shooting up as he looked between the two of you. you did a small eyeroll before shrugging the hand off of your shoulder and looked on, amused as he tried to sweettalk your dad.

you were soon distracted, though by a sweet tune emitting from the bar's ancient piano. you looked to see Bradley playing the starting chords to an infamous Jerry Lee Lewis song and you ran along to join him, pushing across the bench with your hip to simultaneously sing.

"GOODNESS, GRACIOUS, GREAT BALLS OF FIRE!"

"What'd I tell you about fighter pilots? They're bad news." Your father grumbled under his breath as he drove you back to your temporary home. "They mean well." you hummed, but turned your head against the head rest to look at him. "I'm also not stupid- humouring Hangman is just funny." There was silence for a moment. "What about Rooster?" "What about him?" "I've seen those eyes he looks at you with." "What eyes, dad?" You scoffed with a laugh. "You know, those ones." You turned back to face the darkened road. "They're the only eyes he's got."

Before you could respond to Hangman, the boy groaned loudly. "Mama, I'm thirsty!" He thumped his boot against the bar slightly with a pout at those quivering lips. "Hey, what'd I tell you about stomping?" You hummed, tone gettng sterner. "Don't stomp the foot unless i want a boot in the but." He giggled at the final word. You smiled at him, glad he listened to you at his little tantrums. "You're just like your daddy." You rolled your eyes. "Now what can i get my little cowboy to drink?" "Orange juice please, mama!"

"Mama?!"

After thirty weeks of aggressive training, you had finally been out on several 'dummy' rescue missions. "So today, pilots we'll be focusing on-" The siren which had laid dormant since you arrived at top gun started bleating loudly with an iterative red beacon, accompanied by a female voice overing the neighbouring intercom. "Requested: lieutenant Simpson, Honey, lieutenant Pierce, bear, lieutenant Shirley, Temple, two F-18 fighter jets down at Toro Canyon Park, immediate medical backup required." The Captain looked at you guys. "Show time pilots, show me what you've got." And before you knew it, you were in the air and navigating your way towards the billowing smoke. You landed just off of the treeline, and managed to find the wreckages rather quickly - but it wasn't the planes you were concerned about, it was the pilots.

Two parachutes 100 feet away from one another, seemig like a collision below the allowed guidelines, you were guessing a mock dog-fight, "I've got this one." You ran towards one of the victims and your peers headed to the other, each carrying your medical bag.

you peeled to parachute away from them, and gasped when you saw a knocked out Rooster laying motionless on the grass. "Bradley!" You shook his shoulders, seeing no signs of response so moving him into the recovery position. After checking there was no obvious nor outstanding damage to his head, you removed his helmet to see a nasty gash bleeding right above where his helmet had cracked. "Brad," You kept talking, attempting to make him conscious. "Stay with me, Bradley." you began to apply pressure to where the bleed was, making a make-shift bandage covering the top of his skull until you could get him back to base.

"Hey Honey" you heard his voice rasp as he attempted to raise to his elbows but you pushed him back down. "Hi Roo, just gotta stay there for me, got a nasty gash on your head here." You explained, resting his head against the ground. "You're fuckin' gorgeous." He giggle, looking at your eyes with a dreamily-dazed expression. "Okay, Brad seems like a concussion." "No, no, you're the prettiest woman I've ever seen, wanna marry ya." He continued to blurt out. you tried to ignore the fluttering of butterflies in your gut, just shaking your head. "You don't know what you're sayin' Brad, just gotta stay still for me." You secured a neck brace. "No i know what i'm saying, i wanna take you out and propose and fuck ya so hard that you scream, then ill make love to ya so we have our own little Bradshaw-" He continued to mumble. you breath faltered and your heart skipped a beat at the thought. "There you go, Bradley. Ready to get you home." You secured him as Temple came over to help you, heaving up the other end of the stretched, and moving back to the helicopter, Bradley shutting his eyes in the meantime.

"Who was the other?" You asked. "Hangman" she replied with a scoff mixed with a laugh as you joined her. "Shocker. He injered too?" You asked and she shook her head no. "Was sat up awake when we got to him, damaged ego but nothing else - still taking him to medical to get a once over though." You nodded in response, giving the thumbs up Bear when Rooster was secured. Hangman took a sip of his complementary water, "Hey, Honey" You nodded. "Hangman" "What's up with Bradshaw?" "Concussion, head trauma, need to get back to medical to confirm anything else." he leant forward and placed a hand on the centre of your back and surveyed Rooster. "Back off, Hangman." He raised his hands with a chuckle, before moving backwards and allowing you to work.

You'd worked some overtime that day to wait with Bradley and make sure he could get discharged that evening so that's why you were sat beside him, having just replaced his glucose drip feeding into his arm. The clocked ticked over to eight but you didn't mind, you were move than happy to watch the sunset outside of the window in silence, especially beside Bradley - even if he's knocked out cold.

A sudden cough withdrew you from your thoughts as Rooster's eyes fluttered open. "Hey, sweetheart." "Don't you dare sit up." You warned with a glare, noticing the way his arms shifted below him and he relaxed again with a small smile. "Now this is a view I could wake up to everyday." He said. "Yeah, the sunset's beautiful-" "No, I mean you, I could wake up to you everyday." He spoke softly and cut you off, looking at you with a gentle stare.

"How are you feeling?" You ignored his statement. "I'm okay, seriously, just a bit tired." You smiled. "I stitched up your head, so no flying because you also suffered a concussion-" "I meant what I said." You stopped talking and gave him a questioning expression. "I'm in love with you." "Bradley-" He reached up and kissed you softly and you relaxed into it. "You been growing a moustache, Bradshaw?" "Do y' like it?" You hummed as you nodded. "Good 'cause it's stayin'."

"Yes, I'm his mom, aren't I baby?" You pinched his cheek and asked Penny for an OJ "Oh my! I didn't realise there was a big scary cowboy in my bar, here's your juice box, sir." Penny curtseyed at your son. "Much obly-obul- oby-lysed obliged, ma'am" He smiled, blowing bubbled into the carton through the small straw.

"Who's his dad-" "Nick! Buddy, what'd I tell ya about running from the truck!?" voice bellowed from the doorway, you turned to your husband, who's eyes softened at the sight of you when he removed the aviator glasses from his face. He walked over and grabbed you waist, pulling you flush against his body and leaning down you kiss you lovingly. "Oh I get it, you saw a mighty fine lady and decided she was more important than sticking with your poor old dad, I get it." He said to your son, nipping at your neck with his teeth.

Hangman gritted his teeth and forced a smile and acknowledged you husband, "Rooster."

You spent the next three months sneaking around with Bradley, hidden winks, ghost-like touches, stolen kisses, and honestly a few on-base fucks. All secret until one day your dad had decided to visit your medical station, where you were laid on the bed against Bradley's shoulder while he left kisses in your hair and drew shapes on your hips. "Hey hon-" You father walked in and the two of you immediately jumped off of one another. He froze in the doorway, "What the fuck!" He about-turned on his heels, slamming the door shut behind him before storming off. "Oh god-" You stood up, but was pulled back by Bradley. "He was gonna find out eventually," "He's gonna disown me, Brad-" You had never seen you father that mad before.

"Bradshaw." The group heard from behind their lesson. "Admiral," Rooster turned to see him, and the group hollered like a group of school-kids teasing the man as he was lead away from the hangar and towards Admiral Simpson's office. They sat in silence momentarily, Cyclone staring out of the window and taking deep breaths, assumingly trying to calm himself.

"What're you playin' at, Bradshaw?" He asked after a while. "Excuse me, sir?" He turned towards Bradley - crossing his arms over his chest. "My daughter, seriously?! My only fucking daughter?" His tone of voice rose with every syllable. "With all due respect, sir-" "No, you do not get to talk. My daughter if the only thing I have in life and the only thing I can really protect her from now she joined the navy is scum like you." "Scum?" "You fast-jet pilots are all the same. Can't keep your dicks in your pants, well I'm telling you now - you stay the fuck away from her-" Bradley cut him off. "If I'm not mistaken, you were once, too a fast-jet pilot and that means you lived up to your own assumptions, and I know she's the only one you got because your wifes's gone," "Shut your mouth Rooster, and listen-" "No-" Rooster stood up, his chair being shoved abck against the wall behind him. "You listen. We may not've been together that long, but I fucking love her and I wanna marry her whether you like it or not, maybe you should look at yourself as a fahter, she's been stayin' with me, balling her eyes out for the past week 'cause the only person she's got left ignores her calls and pretty much disowns her! That's your fuckin' problem, now if you dont mind, Admiral, I'm goin' home to the love of my fuckin' life and you have absolutely no authority to stop me." Bradley spat with venom, slamming the door shut behind him and heading home to you.

Cyclone gained a lot of respect for Rooster, that day.

"Hello," Your dad walked into the hangar where you were with Bradley and the two of yours conversation end quickly as you look towards your father with a blank and unreadable expression. "Sweetheart I'm so sorry," "I don't want your apologies, dad." You grunted. "Want me to leave, hon?" Bradley asked, but your father answered him instead "no, i need you here too." "Look since your mom died your the only thing I have I'd live in rags on the street if it meant you were happy, i couldn't stop you joining the navy and i was so scared, what if something happened to you? And i knew from working here for nearly a decade what the aviator reputation was. When i saw you with Rooster i felt I'd failed the last part of you i could protect. but i know, you're not a little girl anymore and I shouldn't have reacted that way, I'm sorry."

You said nothing, but stood up and hugged him tightly, tears apparent in your eyes. "It's alright, sorry for going against your wishes." You reciprocated, "You are a Simpson after all." You both laughed, and your father held out an arm. "Come on Bradshaw, I can deal with you as a son-in-law, I guess."

"Bagman." You husband nodded, mouth pursing into a thin line. "He yours?" Bradley grinned, cockily. "He sure as hell is, aint ya, Nick?" "Yeah, dad!" The boy giggled.

"Er, I think Coyotes callin' me." And he walked away, to absolutely no one as Bradley chuckled victoriously and snaked his arms around you. "You scared him off, Brad." "Good, shouldn't even be lookin' at ya, you're all mine." He pecked your cheek, pulling yourself and your son along with you, and towards the piano, still sat in its spot in the Hard Deck.

It was graduation day, all the top gun graduated gathered to celebrate, Bradley raising his trophy above his head smugly, showing it off to his fellow pilots and the accompanying civillians.

"Bradshaw, congrats on getting top gun." Cyclone approached him. "Thank you, Admiral." He thought for a moment. "Can I have your blessing?" Cyclone looked at him, confused. "Can I marry her?" He was nervously sweating, gulping on his saliva and pulling at the collar on his neck. Your father immediately smiles and shook Bradley's hand. "Of course you can."

Your wedding day was like no other, a runway close to the ocean, a flyover from Phoenix and a few others from Top Gun, your dress was gorgeous, Bradley cried as you walked down the isle, when your father gave you away, when you said your vows, he never stopped crying. God, he was over the moon happy. "I love you, Honey." "I love you, Rooster."

even your honey moon was pure bliss, although the resort was gorgeous you hardly left the hotel room, Bradley too busy fucking you into the sheets and trying to put a baby to you just like he had promised when you had recovered him from that botched training exercise.

Now here you were, perched on the leg of your husband, your four year old son singing along to the tune as Bradley sang to him, playing the piano simultanous to circling your waist.

"GOODNESS, GRACIOUS, GREAT BALLS OF FIRE!"

and Nick had called it a night, you and Bradley said goodbyes to your friends at the bar who had also been called back to top gun, you saying goodbye to Maverick when your husband wasn't looking, you headed to the truck. "How about we get home and I fuck another baby into ya'?" Bradley asked against your lips, between desperate kisses. "Take me to bed or loose me forever, Rooster." "Show me the way home, Honey."

And the men all stood there in silence, sickened to their stomachs, their sweet Honey stolen away by no other than Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw. Damn.