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cherrycola27 · 2 years ago

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Elementary

Summary: You are the younger sister of Natasha Trace. You've just moved to San Diego to teach 4th Grade. You never expected to fall for an older man in a Hawaiian shirt who happens to be her best friend.

Warnings: Language, Drinking. Smut, Age Gap, Daddy Kink. Minors DNI 18+

Next Part

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You'd noticed him the moment you and your friends had walked into the club. He was with a group of guys leaning up near the bar. He looked entirely out of place with his Hawiian shirt and aviators. He had a thick mustache that accentuated his almost familiar face.

He was still there when you walked up later to get a drink.

"Can I get a Titos and cran with Sprite?" You asked the bar tender. "Titos?" He commented. "Classy." He smirked before taking another sip of his beer.

You laughed before turning to him. "I'm trying not to hate myself in the morning. I spent enough time in college drinking bottom shelf shit out of a trash can in a frat house. I've done my share of hangovers. Thank you very much." You tell him.

He turns his body to face you fully. You catch the quick slip of his eyes as he scans your body.

"College? When was that? Last year?" You can't tell if he's joking or not.

"I graduated six years ago. I'm twenty-eight, not a child." You tell him. "What about you. When did you graduate Old Man? 1950?" You laugh.

"Old Man? Really? What makes you say that?" He asks you. "The 'stache and the Hawaiian shirt." You say nonchalantly.

He laughs. "Well, it's been about thirteen years since I graduated college. Didn't realize thirty-five was old." He shakes his head before finishing his drink at the same time the bartender comes back with yours. You go to hand him your card, but your new friend stops you.

"This one's on the Old Man." He winks at you.

"Thank you. You smile at him. "I'm Bradley, by the way, but everyone calls me Rooster." He puts his hand out for you to shake. You tell him your name, and then it clicks. He's one of your sisters coworkers.

She would kill you if she knew you were flirting with him, but what she didn't know wouldn't hurt her.

"What do you do for work, Rooster?" You asked him. You knew the answer. "I'm a Naval aviator, I fly jets and stuff." He says it so casually. "Oh, that's cool. I've got a few family members in the Navy." You tell him. That's not a lie. Your sister and your soon to be brother in law were both in the Navy. You didn't want to tell him who they were, though.

"Cool. What about you? What do you do for work?" He asks you.

"I teach. Actually, I just got hired to teach fourth grade at the elementary school near the Navy base here in San Diego." You tell him.

"No shit? I know if my teachers had been as pretty as you are, I might have paid better attention. But on a side note, I've got a couple of friends I work with whose kids are going to be in fourth grade there." He tells you.

Little does he know that those kids are your niece and nephew.

"Well, maybe I'll get to see you around then." You finish off your drink and set it on the bar, just as one of your favorite songs comes on. 'Unholy,' you thought—how fitting.

You grab him by the hand. Come dance with me, Bradley.

He happily follows you to the dance floor and pulls you flush against him as your body moves against him.

His hands have a tight grip on your hips. You turn to face him and start singing along with the music. You don't miss how his fingers did into your flesh a little harder each time the word 'Daddy' leaves your mouth.

As the song finishes, you decide to push your luck. You lean up on your tip toes and whisper in his ear. "How about be get out of here, Daddy?"

You smirk as he grabs your hand to lead you to the exit.

"Did you drive?" He asks the moment you're out of the club.

"Ubered." You tell him. "I drove, fuck, follow me." He says.

Moments later, the two of you are standing by a classic blue Bronco. You don't even have time to admire it before he pushes you up against it and kisses you roughly.

It takes all of the willpower he has not to fuck you in the parking lot.

It takes him ten minutes to get back to his bungalow. He's undressing you the minute you get through the door.

Your clothes are strung haphazardly throughout his home. It's a miracle the two of you make it to the bed. But you do. Soon, he's got you laid out before him, and his face is buried between your legs.

He eats your pussy like it's his day job, all the while his hips rut into the mattress. He makes you cum twice on his tongue and fingers.

"Condom?" He asks as he prepares to fuck you.

"Clean. On the pill." You tell him.

"I'm clean too, fuck, you want me to hit it raw?" He growls.

"Yes, please, Daddy." You tell him with hooded eyes.

As he slides into you, you know exactly why they call him Rooster. He's huge in length and girth. He's splitting you open in the most delicious way.

He fucks into you hard, fast, and deep. He takes one of his large hands and presses it on your stomach. You can feel him in there.

"Fuck, you feel how deep I am?" He ask you. You nod your head. "You like feeling Daddy so deep in this tight, perfect little pussy?" He groans.

You whine out a response as he toys with your clit.

"You gonna cum again for me baby?" He asks you. "Yes, Daddy, close!" You moan out.

"Fuck, I can tell. Can feel you clenching so hard on me. That's it darlin, be a good girl and take Daddy's cock." He tells you. Soon, you're falling over the edge, screaming for him.

"Good girl, such a good girl." He praises you.

"Baby, I'm close, where do you want me to—" He asks but you cut him off before he can finish

"Cum in me! Fill me up, Daddy!" You moan out. You don't have to tell him twice. Rooster cums and fills you up with his spend.

He collapses on the bed next to you. After a few minutes, he gets a cloth to help you clean up. You try to get up to find your clothes, but he pulls you closer to him.

"Stay, I'll make pancakes in the morning." He tells you.

You know you shouldn't, but you stay anyway.

The next morning, he does make you pancakes. The two of you get to know each other all morning, and he asks to take you out on a proper date that night.

"I can't tonight. I have to babysit my niece and nephew, but I'm free tomorrow." You tell him.

He agrees. A few hours and several orgasms later, he's dropping you off at your apartment. You have just enough time to make it look like you haven't spent the day getting fuckeswithin an inch of your life before your sister shows up with her fiancée and kids.

The doorbell rings, and Catia and Cristiano run in to greet you. "Aunty Thena!" The cry as they both hug you. You laugh at the nickname. Your sister and her fiancée and almost all of their friends were aviators with callsigns. You didn't have one but were given the honorary callsign "Thena" after the goddess Athena by your future brother in law. He claimed it was because you were both wise and scary. Even though you were barely nineteen when her sneaky link turned into her baby daddy, you were still a force to be reckoned with and wise beyond your years.

But Coyote stepped up when Nat found out she was pregnant. Their casual hook ups turned into something serious. Your parents had wanted them to get married before the twins were born, but they didn't want to get married just because Natasha was pregnant.

You supported her through her pregnancy and their relationship. You had even helped him pick out the ring.

The both of you still laugh when he tells she story about why he and the kids call you Thena.

"Cat, Cris, please don't kill your aunt before she has a chance to watch you!" Coyote scolds them as he walks into your home.

"Javy, they are just excited to see her. It's been months since she last visited. Natasha tells him as she comes in.

"Hey, little sis!" She smiles as she comes to hug you. "I'm so glad you moved out here!"

"You just like that you have a free baby sitter now." You joke with her.

Coyote laughs and shrugs his shoulders.

"Now listen up terror twins." He addresses his children. You laugh at the nickname for them. It's funny because it's true. You and the twins have gotten into a few messes together. Catia, the oldest, was definitely the mastermind, while Cristiano was, more often than not, the unwilling accomplice.

"Your mom and I will be back in a few hours to pick you up. We have to finish a few wedding things. Be good for your Aunt Thena and listen to her. It will be good practice for when you start back to school and she is your teacher." Javy tells the kids.

Both of them promised to be on their best behavior. You wave goodbye to Nat and Javy. As soon as they are gone, you and the kids are ordering pizza and finding a movie to watch.

You're careful to make sure they don't see your phone and who you are texting.

.............................

You hadn't meant for it to go this far. After your first date with Rooster, you swore you were going to tell him who you were, but you liked the idea of keeping your relationship to yourself. You didn't want to hear what Nat had to say, but honestly, it wasn't any of her business. You were an adult.

The sex with Rooster was amazing, but he was a great boyfriend, too. These had been the best six weeks of your life.

You were currently lying in bed with him after a bit of afternoon delight.

"You really are the best partner that I've had Bradley. Most guys my age last like five minutes and don't even care if I cum. But not you. To be an old man, you sure can keep up." You tease him as you prop yourself up on his chest.

"I'm a Top Gun graduate, babe. The top 1% of Naval aviators in the entire fucking nation. Longevity and stamina are hard wired into me. Don't you know the reason why everyone wants a classic car now?" He asks you. You shake your head.

"Because they can keep their motor running for much longer." He smirks before rolling you onto your back for another round.

You were still in a post sex haze when you're phone went off.

"Shit!" You shouted and jumped up. "What?" Rooster asked you.

"I'm late! I'm supposed to meet my sister for some wedding stuff. I've got to go! I'll text you later!" You shout over your shoulder as you head out the door.

...........................

You and Natasha spent the evening working on some last-minute wedding plans. Once you were done, she suggested that you, her, and Coyote go out for drinks. His parents were keeping the twins for the weekend, so they wanted to take the chance to hang out without worrying about Cat and Cris.

You thought everything would be fine. You were wrong.

Everything was fine until you pulled into the Hard Deck and noticed a familiar blue Bronco. Shit. This wasn't good.

You tried your best to stay cool. You were attempting to fire off a text to Rooster, but Nat was pulling you towards the door.

She looped her arm in yours as she walked over to the group of pilots. You spotted Rooster and his Hawiian print shirt with them. His back was to you.

"Guys! This is my sister that I told you about!" Natasha announced proudly as she introduced you to the group. Everyone smiled and greeted you.

"Bradshaw! Say hi to my little sister!" Nat said, punching him in the shoulder. You didn't miss the color draining from his face when his eyes met yours.

You smirked at him as you introduced yourself.

..............................

The evening was awkward, to say the least. You didn't miss the glances Rooster kept sending you. You did your best to avoid him, but ultimately, both of you were sent on a drink run.

You walked up to the bar to order them, with him hot on your heels.

As soon as you'd ordered them, he grabbed your arm and spun you around.

"You're Nat's sister! How could you not tell me you were her sister?" Rooster whisper shouted at you, as the two of you waited for the drinks.

"It never came up and you never asked." You replied nonchalantly.

"She's going to kill me." He groaned.

"Don't worry, Daddy, I'll make sure she doesn't." You smirked at him.

"You can't call me that!" Rooster shushed you as he looked around to make sure no one was watching the two of you.

"Why not? You weren't complaining about it earlier today when I was face down and ass up and you were pulling my hair while fucking me into you mattress." You teased him. "In fact, I'm pretty sure you said 'oh baby, your tight pussy feels so good wrapped around Daddy's cock. Come on darlin cum for Daddy. Make a mess all over him.'"

Rooster turned as red as a beet. "Why didn't you tell me? We've been dating for six weeks!" Rooster stated.

"I was afraid you wouldn't like me anymore. I liked keeping you to myself. Once people know, they give their opinions, and they put their nose where it doesn't belong. Also, do you think Nat is going to be cool with this?" You tell him.

"She's going to kill me. She's going to cut my fuel lines, or she's going to use real guns during training. I'm so dead." Rooster shook his head.

Just then, Penny appeared with the tray of drinks for everyone. Rooster picked it up and turned towards you and sighed.

"Don't worry, baby, I promise we will figure this out. Just smile and nod until it's time to go home." You tell him. "Okay." He sighs.

"Now, let's go get these drinks to them before someone comes looking for us. Don't freak out, I promise I'll take extra good care of you tonight, Daddy, when I come over." You smirk at him.

Rooster shakes his head and follows you back to the group.

You were both too caught up in your conversation to notice a certain Weapons Systems Officer who had come to get more peanuts, and who had unfortunately overheard the end of your conversation.

"Well, well, well." Bob sighed. "This isn't going to be good."

Hope you guys enjoyed this first chapter!

Tag List: @dreamingathighaltitude @shanimallina87 @luckyladycreator2 @mak-32 @katieshook02 @samhapner6 @rosiahills22 @thedroneranger @roosterforme @withahappyrefrain @sebsxphia @afterglowsb-tch13 @emorychase @hecate-steps-on-me @roosterscock

#top gun maverick #cherrycola27 #top gun #rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster top gun #bradley bradshaw #rooster smut #rooster x reader #lt. bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #tgm fanfiction #tgm #tgm fic #tgm smut #top gun rooster #top gun smut #top gun 2

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averagewriter-inthedark · 2 years ago

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Lover 💗 | Bradley Bradshaw Imagine

TGM masterlist

Characters & Pairings: Bradley Bradshaw x singer!reader (female/romance)

Content Warnings: fluff, mentions of sexism, references to pop culture, profanity | female!reader (she/her) | wc: 5.6k

Requested 📨 yes/no (for @auroradawnwrites 💗)

Premise : When it came to her love life, singer and songwriter Y/n L/n had a reputation where it felt like the world was against her to the point she doubted ever finding her perfect match. Being in the industry for so long made it difficult to envision what a life with her potential soulmate would be like. But sometimes great things come to people who are patient. And finding the person who made Y/n feel like the only girl in the world had that reputation flicker away like dust on a bookshelf.

Note: I know I keep apologizing for the long waits in my requests but I promise it’s because of having to balance school, random shit happening in my life, and wanting to put out a developed, well-thought out story that the requested person deserves 🥹 and I realized about week ago when I started writing this one after finally getting to it after it was sent in February. @auroradawnwrites I saw that you posted last month that you were leaving your blog but if you happen to see this on another account or still have the notifications on for that blog just know I’m so sorry for this taking so long and I hope it was everything you imagined 😭

Songs headcanonned for singer!reader: ‘Love Story,’ ‘Bad Blood,’ ‘Look What You Made Me Do,’ ‘Getaway Car’ ‘You Need To Calm Down’ by Taylor Swift. ‘Love’ by Lana Del Rey. Albums mentioned that are headcanonned for singer!reader: ‘Lover’, ‘1989’ (I just changed it to 1986 to suit the headcanonned year of birth for reader), ‘Reputation,’ ‘Fearless,’ ‘Red’

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“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome back our next guest,” Jimmy Fallon grins to the audience, arm slightly raising towards the curtains. “She’s been a friend to The Tonight Show for a long time. Here to celebrate twenty years since her debut and to talk about her newest album ‘Lover,’ singer and songwriter—the one and only, Y/n L/n!!”

There’s no need to turn on the sign reading ‘Applause,’ because the audience are on their feet when the curtains draw open slightly to reveal the beaming popstar. People are waving frantically, whistling, some even on the verge of tears at the fact they were in the presence of their idol. It was even hard hearing the band play from the noise

Y/n smiled the entire walk to Jimmy, blowing kisses at the crowd before embracing the man in a hug and settling down on the arm chair. “Wow, wow, wow,” he shouted, watching her give one last wave as he sat in his own chair. “Hi, Y/n.”

“Hi, Jimmy! It’s wonderful to see you again.”

“It’s great to see you too, it’s been awhile since we’ve had you on, huh?” Both make faces indicating they were thinking about her last appearance on the show.

“I think it’s been almost…six years,” Y/n tapped her lips with a finger. “Pre-pandemic I believe—because I haven’t really done much since 2019.”

“Yeah, you took a bit of a break.”

“A much needed one,” she chuckled, “But it feels so great to be back. I’ve been taking this time to really put time into discovering who I am as a person and what is next for me. I’m so grateful for the fans who’ve supported me all this time—I know,” she looks to the camera, “I know I kept you waiting, but fear not, I am back and better than ever.” The statement ignites a holler and applause from the crowd.

Jimmy claps with the audience, “That’s what I’m talking about. What can you tell us about this new music you’ve been working on? I know I mentioned your upcoming one, but you actually announced you will be releasing another at the end of this year, correct?”

Instantly Y/n lights up, “That’s right, Jimmy. For starters Lover is probably my most personal album to date. During the pandemic I basically shut myself off from everyone—and the world because I deleted the social media apps off my phone,” there’s a light chuckle from the crowd, “which made everyone go crazy thinking I died. But I can assure you I was just trying to put all my time and energy into writing, producing, selecting which songs would go on the track list. Each song is there for a specific reason—telling a story per say, and I feel listeners will be able to relate in some way.”

“Why the name ‘Lover,’?” Jimmy asked with curiosity, “is it a metaphor for the story or does it have a deeper meaning?” Judging by the cheesy smile Y/n started to do, Jimmy straightened his posture. “Are you….?”

“It’s for the lovers, you know?” Y/n shrugged nonchalantly. Those around didn’t buy it, leaning forward in their seats with curious eyes. “Yeah it’s about love and those feelings where you think your heart is about to burst from your chest. Like I said, many will be able to relate to it.”

Jimmy gave a look, “So did someone in your life inspire it perhaps?”

Instead of answering right at that second, Y/n remained grinning as the face of inspiration and the owner of her heart appeared in her mind. His gorgeous hazel eyes glowing under the sunlight. The feeling of his warm body against hers each time he held her in his arms. Tickling sensations from his mustache when he rained kisses across her skin. The sound of his laugh whenever he made a joke or she did something silly just to see him smile. Fingers dancing across the piano while they sang their favorite songs in their own private concert.

Her lover. Her life. Her reason for waking up everyday in an endless state of bliss. The person who inspired nearly every song on the album, best describing it as a love letter to him.

Relationships and romance had been a complicated part of Y/n’s life and career. A reputation often frowned upon despite only seeing a small picture.

It all started one summer day in Nashville, Tennessee. 17-year-old Y/n had big dreams and aspirations of being a singer, spending her free time playing guitar and writing songs about teenage experiences. Growing up in Tennessee, the birthplace of country music, Y/n was surrounded by the legacy of icons like Dolly Parton, The Dixie Chicks, Johnny Cash, Hank Williams, Reba McEntire, and Kenny Rogers. It was all she listened to growing up, though she did dabble in pop and R&B—going on to cite Aaliyah, TLC, Whitney Houston, and David Bowie as influences in her music.

“I hear the high school is having a talent show Friday night,” her coworker hummed, handing over the now clean plate to be dried. “Did you sign up?”

“No,” Y/n tiredly exhaled. It was pushing 8 o’clock and she still had one more hour until closing. Working at a popular diner gave Y/n the ability to save for college and an apartment, but it meant working more hours than what she legally was supposed to—on top of balancing school and band. “I have a pre-cal test on monday so I planned to stay in and study.”

“Oh c’mon! You’ve been itching to sign up all year—why back out now? All for a test you know you’ll get an A on?”

Y/n rolled her eyes, taking another plate to dry, “That’s reaching and you know it.”

“Y/n, you’re one of the smartest people in our grade. Literally will be in the top five come graduation. It’s a Friday night and the whole school is gonna be there,” her friend pleads to her, “you’ve got a voice that’s meant to be heard and songs that should be on the radio.”

The teen gives a ‘I don’t think so,’ shrug, “Eh, I feel my style is not exactly what country music is looking for.”

“Maybe so…but maybe it’s what it needs.”

Guitar in hand and shaking like a leaf, Y/n pulled everything in her to drum her fingers on the strings. The spotlight shining down on her made her squint, unable to see into the crowd save for the silhouette of their heads.

“Just breathe, Y/n,” she mentally told herself. It was dead quiet in the auditorium after a light applause when the drama teacher called her name. And since she wasn’t using an electric guitar, there was no way to hook hers up to the speakers. “Breathe and let your voice do the work.”

Clearing her throat, her lips curled into a shy smile, “This is an original song I’ve been working on. Hope you like it.” Slowly the tune began to echo through the auditorium. Y/n’s voice was shaky at the beginning, but soon found confidence when she closed her eyes and pictured herself in the comfort of her own room.

“We were both young when I first saw you.”

“I close my eyes and the flashback starts, I’m standing’ there.”

“On a balcony in summer air.”

Those in the crowd perked up, schoolmates looking at each other with impressed gazes.

“See the lights, see the party, the ball gowns.”

“See you make your way through the crowd, and say, “Hello.”

“Little did I know.”

Finally finding her rhythm, a genuine grin broke out on her face.

“That you were Romeo, you were throwin’ pebbles.”

“And my daddy said, “Stay away from Juliet—and I was cryin’ on the staircase,”

“Beggin’ you, “Please don’t go,” she let her voice drag out the ‘go’, igniting jaws to be dropped. “And I said.”

“Romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone. I'll be waiting, all there’s left to do is run.”

“You’ll be the prince and I’ll be the princess.”

“It’s a love story, baby, just say, ‘Yes.’”

Needless to say, Y/n went home with the winning trophy….and a meeting with Capitol Records Nashville.

Going to college was no longer the plan for Y/n once her signature hit the contract. 3 albums and a promise to take country music by storm was the new future. Staring as soon as her tassel turned from right to left with the class of 2004. Y/n packed up her tiny Honda Civic with everything she had, kissed her family goodbye with plans to see them for the holidays and settled into a cozy studio apartment smack in the middle of Nashville.

“You have a unique voice and lyrical direction, Y/n,” Randy Kingston, one of the execs at CRN said to her one day. “You’re not full country—by that I mean there’s a pop element you bring to the table. Country-Pop if you will.”

Y/n didn’t know how to respond except nod, “Uhhh yeah? I listen to a lot of different genres—-Pop being a big one. A-and I like to experiment by adding different….flavors to my music.” Her expression turns nervous, “is that gonna be a problem, sir?”

Randy rubbed the bottom of his chin with a hand, “No, I don’t think it will. It’s refreshing and something new. Frankly I think you’re gonna do well with the youngin’s. Your age range will likely be the best receivers.”

Turns out Randy was right. Releasing her first two singles were met with wide recognition from teenagers and young adults. Topping the country music charts for several weeks. During that time Y/n began working on her debut self-titled album on top of filming her first music video for ‘Love Story’. When it dropped, it didn’t just get noticed within the country scene. MTV released it during their early morning showings most people played when getting ready for school and work. Doing so allowed ‘Love Story’ to get more attention that people who were not even country fans were purchasing the single.

“Platinum?!” Y/n screamed at the sight of the framed record indicating ‘Love Story’ sold one million copies.

“Platinum,” Randy grinned, presenting it to her. “Well done, kiddo. You deserve it.” He also dropped the ball that Ellen Degeneres called to schedule an appearance—which nearly had Y/n drop the frame in her hands.

The Ellen Degeneres Show was the first public interview Y/n had ever done. And….it was the first time she was questioned about her love life. Something that would become her greatest nemesis throughout her entire career.

“So your song ‘Love Story’ is all about love, yes?” Ellen asked, igniting a laugh from the audience given the title of the song made it obvious what it was about.

“Yes.”

“So does that mean you got some love going on for yourself? Anyone who inspired this for you?”

“U-Uh, no?” It came out more like a question, causing the audience to laugh while she nervously smiled. “Not really—I-I’m not dating anyone currently, but the song sorta came from my love for romance novels and movies. Everyone desires love,” she nods to herself, “and I wanted to write something that people could relate to. Plus I love Romeo and Juliet—which is the big inspiration for the song.”

Following the appearance on Ellen, Y/n focused on writing music and releasing her albums. Her unique sound of combining country with elements of pop and R&B had listeners from all over the world drawn to her. It was a new era of country music.

But not everyone was very accepting of it.

Older generations and die hard lovers of traditional country were very unwelcoming to Y/n. They felt she didn’t belong in the genre and was better suited for pop. Though Y/n agreed to some extent, she feared making the transition from country to full pop wouldn’t be wise. She was still roughly new to the industry, trusting the judgment of her label who she was contracted to do 3 albums for. So she continued to fulfill her duty until the right moment came.

By the end of the first decade in the 21st century, Y/n had established herself one of the leading artists in country music with four Grammys, six MTV Moonmen, four AMA’s, five Billboard awards and 12 CMA’s. She appeared twice on SNL, performed at Dick Clark’s New Year Rockin’ Eve, and even collaborated with Miranda Lambert.

Yet the media liked to only talk about Y/n’s dating history.

In the first year of her career, Y/n briefly dated Jesse McCartney after first meeting at the 2005 Kids Choice Awards. Shortly after their breakup she was seen with Harry Potter actor Tom Felton, but nothing came out of it. The ‘date’ the media thought had actually been a handout between several of their mutual friends where they happened to be pictured smiling and laughing. After that incident Y/n did get into a five month long relationship with Leonardo DiCaprio, who was twelve years older than her and sparked endless conversation in the media.

Then in 2007-2009 Y/n became involved with Eddie Redmayne following their introduction to each other at Ellen Degeneres’ birthday party. They remained friends afterwards, but their relationship inspired a lot of Y/n’s work which resulted in people criticizing her for making too many break up songs.

“You’ve had quite the track record when it comes to the romance scene, Y/n,” David Letterman voiced during her appearance on his show. The singer was overcome with immediate dread. Again was she subjected to questions about her love life when it was no one’s business. But of course, if there’s one thing men like David have, it’s the audacity. “Which brings me to my next questions: are you dating anyone? And are they gonna have a song about them once you two break up?”

Now unfortunately it was common knowledge late night show hosts were disrespectful towards their guests and didn’t know what boundaries were. Though this was known, however, there was still the underlying pressure to keep silent by smiling and pushing through. Sometimes playing it off like it doesn’t affect you was better than having an outburst and being criticized more by the media. Displaying any offense would label them emotional and sensitive.

Though she wanted nothing more than to walk off the set and cry in her dressing room, Y/n swallowed the lump in her throat and answered as calmly as she could muster. “I’m not seeing anyone at the moment. I just want to focus on my music and what comes from my heart is what I put out.”

When Y/n did get into a relationship or was seen on a friendly date—hell even being spotted when out with a male friend for lunch had paparazzi and tabloids bombarding her.

“Is love in the air….again? Country music’s it girl, 24-year-old Y/n L/n, was seen holding hands with Australian actor Xavier Samuel who’s playing Riley Biers in the upcoming third installment of The Twilight Saga. Just this past March Y/n was linked to the son of Tennessee’s Attorney General. Let’s not forget L/n was in a two year romance with Eddie Redmayne before calling it quits last fall. Fans are starting to notice a pattern when it comes to L/n’s relationships and album releases. Should we expect her new single to drop within the next year? And will this romance with Samuel blossom into something long term or end as a spur of the moment flame?”

Notice how all the attention is Y/n and her life? Never once were the men she dated ever asked questions like she was—even if they had a history rivaling hers. Take Leo for example. The women he dated only got younger than Y/n as the years went on and people barely bat an eye.

After the release of her third studio album with CRN, Y/n had a tough decision to make. By that point her last album had more pop than country. The reaction of the fans was pretty much, “You need to just label yourself a pop artist now.” “‘Red’ was literally 90% Pop with 10% Country.” “Stop saying you’re a country music star when the last album you put out was anything but country.”

So…it was safe to say it was time to make the move to a different genre. Thankfully Capitol Records in Los Angeles was ready with the pen in hand to sign Y/n on. There she had creative control on what she put out and Y/n was excited to get started on a new era in her life.

2012 would go down as the year where Y/n was on the edge of her seat with how her career would go. Fans were mixed about her going to pop despite her recent music having mostly pop elements. Then there was the fact she was dating Tyler Hoechlin from Teen Wolf which had fangirls hating her guts for dating their celebrity crush.

What’s sad is Y/n was used to that reception whenever she was in a relationship with a public figure. First Jesse then Tom, Leo, Eddie, and Xavier. Can’t forget the times she got caught on dates with Robert Pattinson, Micheal B. Jordan, and Chris Evans. Then there were the incidents where the paparazzi captured her making out with Sebastian Stan at an after party and leaving the 2011 Grammys with Nate Buzoliac before he made it big as Kol Mikaelson in The Vampire Diaries.

Getting a break was not in the cards for the singer.

When things ended with Tyler in 2015, Y/n told herself she would not date anyone for awhile. Her album ‘1986’ was met with critical acclaim and positive reception from fans, earning her more awards to her growing collection, including the Grammy for Album of the Year. The entire time on tour she focused on having fun and not worrying about what people thought of her. Yeah she still got questions from interviews and hosts about dating she’d simply reply with, “I’m single, and let’s not entertain that further. Next question.”

@ inmyreputationera: I guess @Y/nL/n86 decided romance isn’t exactly her thing. I wonder how that’ll change her music.

@ stanningselenerr: not me checking @ Y/ndatingupdates daily for any new info.

Those were just the handful of tweets Y/n saw everyday on her Twitter feed. It got to the point she’d have to mute notifications whenever she was tagged. While she hated doing so because she loved interacting with fans, the singer needed time away from the constant surveillance of her personal life.

So fast forward to mid-summer of 2018. Y/n hadn’t put out an album in nearly three years nor had she been dating anyone. Yeah people still asked her from time to time though she learned to not let it affect her. Honestly it was a breath of fresh air. She was happy, healthy, and living her best life. Putting her heart and soul into songwriting which was heavily inspired by the reputation she’d garnered since her debut. Not to mention developing closer bonds with her friends and family after making the impulse decision in 2017 to move back to Tennessee. It felt good to be back home. Returning to her roots and the place that started it all after being away for so many years. It was a great time.

Now she was due back to Los Angeles to meet with her manager and producers. Y/n was ready to get back into the studio as much as her fans were telling her they were waiting for new music. With a first-class ticket in hand, Y/n boarded her red-eye flight from Nashville International to LAX and settled in for the five hour flight. It would have them landing at just after 3am Pacific time and while Y/n wanted to rest, she could not for the life of her sleep on a plane.

Approaching her seat Y/n noticed a man in a military uniform seated in the seat beside hers. “Excuse me,” she caught his attention, his head raising where he put two and two together by her hand pointing to the window seat.

“Oh sorry, ma’am,” it took everything in Y/n not to stare at him when he got up. He was very handsome. In his uniform, hazel eyes and sun kissed skin. The most notable feature was his mustache that most men could not pull off yet he seemed to.

“Do you need help with that?” The question pulled her from her mini daydream. He was referring to the carryon bag in her hand.

“Oh I got it—.”

“It’s no problem,” he was already taking the bag from her, securing it in the overhead compartment.

“Thank you so much,” Y/n thanked him while moving into the row, placing her purse in her lap when she sat down. The man returned to his seat just as the next wave of passengers boarded.

Manny, her personal bodyguard who’d been with Y/n since her first tour, was seated in front of her. When they got the tickets he purposely told her to have them separated saying, “I need my beauty sleep and while I love you, you will talk the entire time.” Sure enough when Y/n leaned over to ask him a question Manny was already knocked out, buckled in with his eye mask over his eyes and earbuds in.

Well that left Y/n with little to do. And when she went to retrieve her Kindle she groaned at the realization she forgot to turn back her reading light.

“Everything okay?” She saw the man in her peripheral vision slightly turn his head.

“Yeah just…annoyed with myself. I thought I packed my reading light but I must’ve misplaced it.” God that made her sound like a grandma.

His response was an ‘ah’ sound. “Wish I could help ya there, but I’m not usually equipped with something like that.”

“It’s fine,” she chuckled, buckling in her seatbelt. “It was to pass the time—I can’t sleep on flights. Even though it's midnight and I should feel tired.”

“I’m the same,” he suddenly extended a hand, “I’m Bradley by the way.”

Hesitant to reply in case he were to react to her name, Y/n pushed back any concern and gave a warm smile as she took his hand, “I’m Y/n. Nice to meet you, Bradley.”

“Y/n…” her name was repeated slowly, Bradley’s eyes consorting as though they were deep in thought. A wave of dread and nerves coursed through her. Then Bradley grinned, “Oh! I thought you looked familiar. You sing that song—what was it, ‘Love Story?’ Sorry I don’t mean to sound weird,” he let go of her hand when he realized he was still shaking it. “And I don’t want to bother you. I just can’t help but go, ‘wow!’”

“No-no-no, it’s okay! You’re totally fine.” Before long the two fell into conversation following the typical pre-flight announcements. Y/n was amazed by how natural it felt talking to Bradley. She discovered he was a Naval aviator, coming home from an assignment overseas and was flying to L.A to visit some friends. Bradley had been a graduate of UVA and attended the elite Fighter Weapons School, marking ten years with the navy that year.

“Forgive me for admitting this,” he said after the first hour into the flight, lowering his voice when a passenger trying to sleep glared at them. “But while I know who you are…I’m not really familiar with your work. Y-yeah I mentioned your one song but that’s literally all I know,” he laughed nervously. “My taste in music, I’m embarrassed to say aloud, is very limited.”

Y/n tilts her head, “how limited?”

“Uh, I pretty much only listen to the 1950s all the way to the 80s. Dabbling in what’s popular nowadays once in a blue moon. My karaoke songs are all Jerry Lewis” Bradley gives a gentle smile, “And while I can easily do a Google search, I’d much rather hear it from you if you don’t mind telling me.”

What’s that saying again? Oh that’s right, ‘And the rest was history.’

No but literally Y/n could barely contain her attraction to Bradley after he said that to her. She hoped to God she didn’t look like a fool as she spoke of her career and cool places she’s been. Time flew as they talked. In fact the two were so caught up in their conversation they talked the remainder of the journey to L.A, ending with the exchange of phone numbers and the promise to meet up.

It was decided right from the get go that Bradley and Y/n wanted to keep their relationship hidden. Regardless if the one date went somewhere, the last thing Y/n wanted was to have Bradley in the public eye and cause complications with his job. And let’s not forget her album was releasing within the next year. So, there was going to be a lot of attention on her wherever she went.

“The fact we’ve managed to keep this quiet for a year is outstanding,” Y/n said through a mouthful of cake. Bradley had surprised her with her favorite kind, the icing on the top reading, ‘Happy Anniversary, baby—we’ve got them fooled.’

She couldn’t believe they were already marking one year. Time didn’t seem to exist when she was with Bradley. He was everything she envisioned in a partner. Caring, compassionate, funny, intuitive. Listened to her concerns and communicated. Never made her doubt herself or paid attention to the media.

When she brought up her reputation, or better yet the one the press painted her out to have, Bradley stopped her and said, “who you have history with is not my business—unless they did something to hurt you because then I’ll have a problem with them. And those people talking nonsense about you have nothing else better to do with themselves. I care about you, Y/n. The only one who has influence on how I see you, is you. And I see you as the most beautiful, hardworking, intelligent person who knows her worth. Fuck what they say.”

Yeah that night ended with her jumping his bones.

Bradley took a fork full of his own into his mouth, “I for sure thought they were gonna catch us the night I snuck you on base.” After their first meeting in L.A, Bradley had returned to Virginia while Y/n remained to work on her album. It was a couple months before she went home to Tennessee, then for the holidays they planned to meet up when Y/n was on her way to New York. Sneaking her on base involved the two going undercover where they met at a discreet location and having Y/n shove herself under blankets in his backseat.

The singer laughed at the memory, “Thank Goodness for Shania. Had she not posted that photo to ‘tip off’ the paps then we’d have a whole different outcome.” Bradley laughed with her, placing his fork down on the napkin.

“I’m sorry I can’t be there for your release day,” Bradley had been called back to Top Gun for a special detachment by the Navy. Unfortunately the timing was right when her sixth studio album would drop. The details were still unclear, but that it was a team mission where he would compete against his colleagues. Y/n had yet to meet any of Bradley’s friends and vice versa. The only people in her circle who knew of their relationship were her manager, Manny, and family. But when you signed up to keep your love life private, it meant friends were lost in the dark.

“It’s okay, Roo,” she told him. “We’ll have our own celebration.” Another cake, this time with the design being the album’s cover art on it, was brought over the day before Bradley was set to fly to San Diego and the two had their private release party with just the two of them. The music was blasting through the speakers, Y/n jumping up and down with Bradley who was singing at the top of his lungs.

“Band-aids don’t fix bullet holes! You say sorry just for show! If you live like that, you live with ghosts!”

“I’m in a getaway car. I left you in a motel bar. Put the money in a bag and I stole the key—that was the last time you ever saw me—Oh!”

“Ooh, look what you made me do! Look what you made me do! Look what you just made me do!”

Champagne was popped, kisses were shared, and they danced the entire night until it came time to sleep.

They FaceTimed whenever Bradley had free time, even if it was in the later hours of the night. Those three weeks Y/n felt her heart long for Bradley in a way it had never done with her previous partners. She felt his excitement, his distress. The day he left for the mission Y/n paced around her home for hours—unable to focus on anything and overcome with nausea. It was as though her mind was trying to tell her something was wrong.

Relief came at around nightfall, the singer tripping as she raced to grab her phone when it rang. Seeing Bradley’s picture pop up had the breath she was holding in release. “Oh thanks God,” was the first thing she said.

“I’m coming back to you,” was his response. Tears pricked in the corner of her eyes, hand going to her chest to calm the rapid beat of her heart.

“I would expect nothing less, Lieutenant Bradshaw.”

Several celebrations were in store for the couple when Bradley returned to the east coast. Not only did he receive a medal from the Navy for his brave actions but got a promotion. Y/n’s album hit #1 on the Billboard Hot 100 in the first hour of its release, prompting a record number of sales in a single night for the singer.

“I’m so proud of you, Bradley,” she praised, patting the new patch on his uniform indicating he was now a Lieutenant Commander. She was met with a sweet kiss on the lips.

“Thank you, baby. I’m proud of you too—you’re gonna win everything come awards season.”

During the 2020 Grammy’s, Bradley leaped from the couch in absolute joy when Y/n’s name was called for the winner of Pop Album of the Year and Record of The Year. She missed out on Album of the Year, but that was okay. She was now the owner of 12 Grammys in total. Coming home the following night Y/n’s home was decorated with balloons, a banner reading, ‘Congratulations!!’ and of course, a cake with an edible Grammy topper.

And so it came time for a break. Six albums in a fifteen-year long career, Y/n kept it under the wraps that she wouldn’t be putting out another album for some time. Fans had started to notice she was more uplifted and vibrant in interviews, posting things on social media that were suspicious. For example she uploaded a photo of red roses, captioning it “the symbol of love.” Then there was the screenshotting of well known love songs and posting them on her story.

@ Y/nstansince04: is it me or does @Y/nL/n86 appear happier than usual? Is she hiding something?

@ getawaycarlover_: @Y/nL/n86 totally has a man or someone in her life. That recent Instagram post had all the hints.

@ fearlessdefender: I bet it’s a normal guy she’s with and not a celebrity. If it was we’d probably would’ve known by now who it was.

@ Y/ns_red_lipstick: honestly if Y/n does have a boyfriend then I’m happy for her and wish them the best. She deserves to be happy and we should respect their privacy. She doesn’t have to share with the world if it’s their desire to keep it secret.

Right when the world went to chaos at the brink of a global pandemic, Y/n thought, “you know what, I’m gonna just delete my social media—not my accounts but the apps on my phone. I want to go off the grid for a bit and just enjoy my family and boyfriend.” Not having the constant shadow of social media on her back made it easier for the singer on the break she desired.

Everyday she fell more in love with Bradley. She had been visiting him when quarantine happened so they basically went to the next step in their relationship by living together. Again, it all felt natural. They settled into a domestic life with each other early on with homemade dinners, movie nights, nerf gun wars, and karaoke contests. Bradley on the piano and Y/n with her guitar, being each other’s act and audience in their private concert.

“You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain. Too much love drives a man insane. You broke my will, but what a thrill. Goodness gracious, great balls of fire!”

“Romeo take me somewhere we can be alone. I’ll be waiting, all there’s left to do is run. You’ll be the prince and I’ll be the princess. It’s a love story, baby just say, ‘Yes!’”

Late nights were reserved for drives with the speakers blasting. Y/n camera roll would be filled with endless videos of the two, but mostly of Bradley jamming to his favorite songs. More often than usual the thought of, “I’m gonna marry this man,” would cross her mind.

“You ain’t nothin’ but a hound dog. Cryin’ all the time. You ain’t nothin’ but a hound dog. Cryin’ all the time. Well, you ain’t never caught a rabbit and you ain’t no friend of mine!”

Y/n would lean her body out the window when it was a clear road where they were the only ones, hair blowing and the light from the moon shining down on her. Her beautiful voice carried in the night sky, Bradley in absolute awe of her and wanting to capture the moment forever.

“I came home in the mornin’ light—my mother says, ‘when you gonna live your life right?’ Oh momma dear, we’re not the fortunate ones. And girls, they wanna have fun. Oh girls just wanna have fun!”

But was supposed to be maybe two years at most…..ended up being close to five.

Honestly Y/n was surprised to still have fans. To say they were shitting bricks when she out of the blue dropped a cover art for her upcoming single, ‘Love’ would be an understatement. They were losing their fucking minds.

@ Y/nwhereforartthou: IS THIS REALLY HAPPENING OH MY FUCKING SHIT! PLEASE TELL ME THIS AINT A JOKE Y/N IS COMING BACK AFTER FIVE FUCKING YEARS

@ stilladirectionerbby: *insert Micheal Scott gif* OH MY GOD IT’S HAPPENING—Y/N’S RELEASING NEW MUSIC

@ MTV: when all hope was lost, our prayers were answered….by @Y/nL/n86

Then she announced in the same week they were getting not one but two albums that year.

@ themadalorianswife: TWO ALBUMS?!?! WE GETTING TWO?!?! GOD FUCKING BLESS

@ daddyisastateofmind: oh mother is spoiling us after making us wait so long and I absolutely am here for it.

@ neveroutofstyle_: love how @Y/nL/n86 basically said “this is my sorry for falling off the face of the earth, please forgive me.” On behalf of the fandom, we forgive you queen.

And wanna know something else?

What was even more impressive than becoming a ghost for five years with little to no sightings by the paparazzi, was that she and Bradley had yet to be discovered. Her lover was just as good of a ghost as she was. Their secret was like trying to find the Holy Grail.

Hidden like a treasure the world desired to unearth.

And on their six year anniversary, Bradley got them the same cake as the first time he did. The icing reading, "Happy 7 years, baby—we’ve totally got them fooled.”

…………….

TGM Tag list: @avaleineandafryingpan , @caitsymichelle13 , @poppyalice2001 , @cutelittlepotatofry , @luckyladycreator2 , @americaarse , @elenavampire21 , @back-tooo-black , @wildellaa , @artemissunn , @pinkpantheris

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themissingmango · 2 years ago

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#Lt Bradley Bradshaw #top gun maverick #my art #top gun fanart #bradley bradshaw #rooster #top gun fandom #pilot #fanart

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bradshawssugarbaby · 1 year ago

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it’s my birthday tomorrow and i plan on spending my day reading absolute filth so please send me some 🌶️🫶🏼

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redfurrycat · 1 year ago

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Save a chicken,

Ride a Rooster.

Top Gun: Maverick (2022) + Miles Teller + Letterboxd Reviews

#he was the perfect one to play Lt. Bradley Rooster Bradshaw

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roosterforme · 9 months ago

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Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 6 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: When Bradley asks you for your number, you can't believe he wants to spend his phone call on you. Even though you're nervous about asking, you realize you need answers to some of your questions. The promise of getting to hear your voice is enough to get Bradley through the week, but is he going to be enough for you?

Warnings: Fluff, language, Bradley being sexy

Length: 4300 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

When you woke up for work and checked your phone, there was a new email waiting for you from Bradley, and you couldn't decide what to do about it. As soon as you'd hit send on that selfie of you in bed, you felt like an idiot. Was he expecting something more than a random picture of you after you'd removed your makeup for the day? Was he going to eventually give up responding at all when he realized that one date with you was ultimately just a waste of his time on his stop back in San Diego?

But he had written back yet again, and you were nervous to see what he had on his mind. You dropped your phone into your purse, making a deal with yourself: you could read his response once you were at work. That would give you enough time to process your thoughts on the matter. You were being silly for wanting more and expecting more with every interaction. This man owed you nothing. You were probably in over your head with the mutual daydreaming and flirtation.

What were you going to do when it was easy for him to say that talking to you had been fun, but he needed to get back to his real life? What were you going to do when you weren't able to do the same?

Once you were settled at your desk looking at your Natural History notes in those last few minutes of solitude before your eighteen students arrived for the day, you let yourself indulge in Bradley's words.

Hey, Gorgeous,

You're the only woman I'm going to let email me regularly. And I was right. You do look adorable snuggled up in your bed. That photo is going to keep me up at night wondering how cute you'd look in mine...

It looks like I'll have the opportunity to make a phone call soon, and I'd love to hear your voice. If you want to talk. I can't guarantee I won't sound like an idiot, tripping over my words the whole time, but hey, a guy can dream. Will you let me have your phone number?

Yours Truly,

Bradley

"Oh my god." You forced yourself to read it slower the second time around. He was thinking about you in his bed! He wanted your phone number! "What are you doing to me?" you groaned.

He wanted to call you. This man wanted to use his phone call allowance on you. He wanted to let you hear his deep, raspy voice over the phone while he spoke sentences that were tailor made for you. He expected you to be able to respond to him in real time? You were embarrassed to admit that it often took you hours or days to figure out how to reply to one of his emails after he set the butterflies off in your belly.

You did not know what you should do here, but you knew exactly what you were going to do. It was going to be impossible to pull yourself back out of this mess when the time came.

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

Before Bradley got a response to his email asking for your phone number, he got a box from your class. He could certainly get used to waiting in line when the mail arrived to find himself smiling with satisfaction instead of feeling disappointment. When he got back to his bunk and opened it, he rooted through all of the drawings of F/A-18s in search of the note from you. He smiled at the more businesslike greeting, knowing how many personal topics you and he had covered through email.

Dear Lt Bradshaw,

It seems as though we can't get enough of you. We're back, hoping for a little more of your time. Here's a batch of drawings for you to judge in any manner you see fit, but please be kind... I drew one of them.

Whether it's a handwritten note or an email, I'm looking forward to hearing from you soon.

Just looking at your tidy penmanship had Bradley antsy to check his email again. He had put himself out there as far as he could at the moment when he asked you for your phone number, but now he was nervous as hell. What was he supposed to do if you told him no? He'd already planned out not only a first date but a second date as well. He could wait you out. Unless you outright shut him down, he would take his time, making sure you were comfortable.

Upon inspection of the Super Hornet drawings, it was easy enough to determine which one was yours. It was clearly crafted with a steadier hand than the others, and even the block printing on the side of the aircraft where you'd written 'BRADLEY ROOSTER BRADSHAW' looked like your penmanship. He looked through the other ones, quickly making the assumption that the one with flames and dragon scales had been drawn by Oliver. The one with purple outlining was most likely from Violet. Something was telling him the one with a dog piloting the jet was drawn by Jayden.

He smiled at how connected to these kids he felt, but ultimately he tossed everything back into the box and started heading for the lounge. If you had responded to him with your phone number, he could get himself on the call schedule. His heart was racing, and his skin felt too warm as he logged into his email account. He had three new messages.

"Come on," he groaned when he was met with two names above yours in his inbox. Nat and Vanessa. He almost forgot about the fucking water bottle.

He tapped on the email from his best friend first.

Rooster, I need you to make better choices regarding your girlfriends, okay? I took care of it, but it wasn't pretty. Her pink monstrosity of a water bottle was in your kitchen cabinet, and then she tried to have a conversation with me. Sorry, but I called her a flaming bitch who never appreciated my best friend and said she needed to leave your house before I made her. Everything is locked up tight again to keep the rats out. When you get home, there's a new restaurant you can treat me to on Rendova Road. -Nat

He smiled as he tapped on the email from Vanessa which was exactly one sentence long.

I got my water bottle from your house.

"God bless Natasha Trace," he muttered, deleting Vanessa's email. Then he went ahead and deleted every email he had ever received from her. He shouldn't have been surprised that you and he had already exchanged more emails than he ever had with a woman he'd dated for several months. It didn't take long before they were all gone, and then he was left with the newest one you'd sent to him last night sitting at the top of his inbox.

"Here we go," he whispered, wiping his palm nervously on his pants before opening up your message to see what you had to say in response to his bold request for your phone number.

Bradley,

I read your last email an embarrassing number of times, trying to be sure I understood it properly. You want to use your phone call allotment on ME? And you were thinking about ME snuggled up in your bed? There's no possible way you could sound like an idiot. Not with that voice that I think about when I'm trying to fall asleep at night.

You know what, I don't even care if I misinterpreted something. Of course I'll let you have my phone number. Of course I'll let you call me.

Your giddy pen pal

Right there below your parting words was your full phone number complete with San Diego area code. Bradley smiled as he grabbed a pen and a piece of paper from the shelves behind him and wrote it down. He double and triple checked that he had it correct, knowing his next mission would be to get approved for a specific time slot and hope it wasn't going to be at a horrible time of day for you in California. Then he wrote back to your email.

Gorgeous,

You shouldn't sound so surprised. This thing we've got going on isn't open to interpretation on my end. I told you I have a thing for you. I believed you when you said you were interested in getting to know me. There's nobody else I'd rather spend my twenty minute phone call on than you. In fact, you're the only one.

I already memorized your number. I'll email you back when I know which day I can call you and at what time. I can't wait to hear your voice saying my name.

Yours Truly,

Bradley

He logged out and did some quick math to take into account the difference between time zones, and then he was all smiles as he signed up for the opportunity to finally talk to you in real time.

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

You read his email again as the hours slowly ticked away on Saturday afternoon. Your friends were asking why you kept checking your phone while you were out to dinner. Well, they would be doing the same thing if Bradley Bradshaw was in their email inboxes sounding sweeter than any man had the right to.

Hey, Gorgeous,

How does 10:00 on Saturday night sound to you? I know it's a little late, but I didn't want to potentially interfere with your work week. And I don't know if I can wait until next week anyway. I'm feeling greedy right now when it comes to you. I can't wait to make a fool of myself on the phone.

Yours Truly,

Bradley

When you let him know in the calmest fashion you could muster that Saturday night was just fine for a phone call, he wrote back one additional sentence.

Talk to you then, Gorgeous Girl.

You received that email on Friday morning, and in an effort to seem less desperate for this man than you were, you didn't write back. It was better to let his anticipation grow to match your own. But once you'd parted ways with your friends and headed home for the night, your nerves settled in. You were going to have to ask Bradley where he lived, and that would be that. You'd know all the facts soon enough, and that would pretty much become the determining factor on how long the two of you could really keep this up.

It was almost time. You made sure your phone was fully charged, and you had your ringtone volume turned way up. Barring some sort of disaster, your phone should be ringing in exactly fifteen minutes.

"Chill out," you whispered as you walked a few laps around your apartment in your favorite underwear and an oversized sweatshirt. At 9:56 you paused in your bedroom doorway, convinced Bradley wasn't even going to call. And at 10:02, you sat on the edge of your bed with your phone in your hand, wondering how you managed to get yourself in this deep.

He was in the Navy. Things ran on precision. It was 10:04, and your phone was sitting there on your palm like a dead brick. "It's okay," you told yourself. "Maybe he'll still call." For a few minutes, you thought that being hopeful was the way to go. Perhaps he dialed the wrong number the first time and was just regrouping. Or perhaps not.

At 10:11, you set your phone on your nightstand and walked out into your living room without it. That was when you realized that the lighter-than-air tingling sensation you'd been enjoying all day was gone, replaced with something uncomfortable.

"Don't even think about crying," you whispered as you pulled the hem of your sweatshirt a little further down your legs. You'd normally be drinking a cup of tea and getting settled in to try to go to sleep. A few months ago, you might have even been scrolling through a dating app right now. But you didn't want to do either of those things when you'd essentially been promised something as exciting as Bradley Bradshaw's voice for twenty minutes straight. "Fuck."

Just as you dragged your toe along the kitchen tile, trying to decide what to do now, you heard your ringtone. The clock on your microwave told you it was 10:16 as you turned and ran for your bedroom. Your fingers were shaking as you snatched up your phone and read RESTRICTED CALLER on the screen. You weren't sure what you'd been expecting, but it had to be him.

You took a deep breath and sank down onto the floor with your back against the side of your bed, and without any further hesitation, you answered the call as your heart hammered hard in your chest.

"Bradley?"

There was just a short pause, and it sounded like he was smiling when he said, "Hey, Gorgeous."

The lighter-than-air tingling sensation was back as soon as you heard him say two whole words, and you slid slowly down until you were laying on your back on the floor like a boneless mess. "Hi," you sighed, pressing your free hand to your belly to try to calm the butterflies.

You heard him clear his throat softly before he said, "I'm really sorry I'm late calling you. I've been waiting for this all damn weekend." There was an edge to his voice that gave you goosebumps on your legs, and you smiled before you immediately frowned.

"Does this mean we only have four minutes to talk instead of twenty?" you asked him.

"No, I made sure of that," he replied in his deep rasp. "I even got a little bitchy with the guy before me who wouldn't end his call on time. I told him the most gorgeous teacher from Mira Mesa Elementary was waiting for me to call and that I'd be lucky if she still wanted to talk to me now."

You couldn't help but laugh as the tingling sensation made its way to your fingers and toes. "You didn't tell him that!"

"I swear I did," he insisted, his voice on the verge of laughter. "He sends his apologies." He cleared his throat once more before he asked, "Any chance you could say my name again?"

You thought you detected some nervous energy in his voice which was somehow the most flattering thing you'd ever encountered. You closed your eyes and licked your lips, picturing his handsome face as you said, "Bradley."

Now his voice was as breathless as you knew yours was. "Yeah. I really like the way that sounds."

"Bradley," you repeated with a laugh as you rolled up into a little ball on your side with your phone held to your ear.

"Hey, if you want to just say my name for the next eighteen minutes, I'm not going to complain. I was dying to hear your voice, and now I just want more of it."

You had to press your lips together to keep from making an embarrassing sound, but you did manage to say, "Yeah, that's not really going to work for me, Lieutenant Bradshaw. I'm going to need some back and forth, especially with how much I like your voice. And your face."

He groaned softly, and now you really did make an embarrassing noise before you could clap your free hand over your mouth. "My face is nothing special, Gorgeous," he said. "Yours on the other hand... that's the kind of thing that could get a guy through a long deployment."

You whimpered, and you were sure he could hear it. But you weren't even as embarrassed as you were needy for more. You wanted to know everything about him, and twenty minutes wasn't going to be enough to satisfy you when it came to Bradley. "Let's just say you've had my full attention for months now. And the photos you sent are enough to get a girl through a long school year. Will you tell me how you got your scars?" you asked him. It was something you'd been curious about since the first photo he sent where you could see his face. The one of him standing tall and sexy in front of his jet.

"Oh, hell," he laughed, his voice taking on a self deprecating tone. "I knew I shouldn't have sent that sunset selfie. I was kind of hoping you wouldn't be able to see them in the photos or the video. I have a lot."

You scrambled to your knees and then your feet. The last thing you'd meant to do was make him feel badly about himself. "They just make you look hotter," you blurted out. "I've thought about kissing them."

"Shit," he grunted. "Baby, I'll tell you anything you want to know. My social security number? My bank account information?" You laughed and had to bite down on your knuckle as he said, "I got my scars when I was a sophomore at the University of Virginia. Just typical nineteen year old guy bullshit. I was riding my bike back from a party late, and I skipped the curb. Just a lot of stitches."

"Oh," you gasped.

"It's okay," he said quickly. "More superficial than anything. I didn't even miss any of my classes. This is just why I don't usually send selfies like that. But you're already an exception, aren't you?"

He was so sweet, you were afraid the butterflies would never stop. But now you were picturing him going back to a beautiful house in Virginia, and it just made you sad. You paced the length of your room as you said, "I'd still really like to see your face in person."

"That's a done deal, Gorgeous."

You bit your lip, already knowing how you were going to react, but you just needed to have all the facts. "I know we could probably meet for a date or two while you're on leave in San Diego, but what happens after that?"

There was a brief pause before he asked, "What do you mean?"

You tipped your head back and looked at your ceiling as you finally said, "I don't even know where you live or where you're stationed. All I know is that if you're returning to Virginia or somewhere else far away... I'm going to have to brace myself for it."

But when you heard his next sentence, you let yourself drop down onto your bed with a smile on your face. "Gorgeous Girl, I live in San Diego."

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

This was going well. Bradley's whole body was thrumming with anticipation, and your voice was already embedded in his mind. As soon as you mentioned just the thought of your lips on his scarred cheek, he had to stand up for a minute. And when you brought up meeting him when his deployment ended, he was afraid his heart rate might never return to normal.

"I'd still really like to see your face in person," you told him, and all he could think about was Thai food on the beach and kissing your lips.

"That's a done deal, Gorgeous," he replied, satisfied in knowing for sure that it was going to happen now, but your follow up question left him confused.

"I know we could probably meet for a date or two while you're on leave in San Diego, but what happens after that?"

After that? He sat back down in his seat and thought about what would happen after a date or two. He knew he wouldn't be able to keep his hands and lips off you, but somehow he didn't think that's what you were talking about. "What do you mean?"

Your voice took on a softer, maybe sadder quality as you told him, "I don't even know where you live or where you're stationed. All I know is that if you're returning to Virginia or somewhere else far away... I'm going to have to brace myself for it."

He froze. He hadn't told you where he lived? Had he really never mentioned it once in all the times he wrote out the address to your school in Mira Mesa? His heart was beating erratically now as he pieced together the fact that he was making all of these plans while you were trying to protect yourself, but you kept emailing him and sending him letters anyway. You were showing that you had genuine interest in him while afraid he was going to leave you high and dry after one date? Hell no. Oh, he was falling hard.

"Gorgeous Girl, I live in San Diego."

Your little surprised gasp had him holding his breath. "You do?" you whispered.

"I do," he promised. "Shit, I can't believe I never mentioned it. My house is in Coronado, near the beach in the photo you sent me where you look more flawless than the sunset. I'm so sorry I got so carried away with our emails that I never put it together that you didn't know I'm stationed out of North Island."

You were quiet for a beat, and he wanted to crawl through the phone and reassure you that he had never meant to stress you out. "You live in Coronado?" you asked.

"Yeah, Gorgeous. About thirty minutes away from your school. I mean, there's always traffic, so maybe forty minutes," he told you nervously. "I hope that's not too far for you to deal with?"

"That's nothing, Bradley," you said with a sigh. "That's... absolutely not too far. I thought you potentially lived thousands of miles away, and I was trying to figure out what to do about my feelings. I was so scared to ask you sooner."

Vanessa wouldn't even drive the extra ten minutes to the restaurant he liked, meanwhile you were putting yourself out there for him. He cleared his throat and said, "I already have our first date planned out."

"Tell me. In an abundance of detail."

Bradley's skin tingled with desire as he divulged his daydreams. "I'll drive up and pick you up at your place. You already gave me permission to hold your hand, so that's happening on the ride back to the beach. There's a good Thai place not too far from the bay bridge where we'll stop to pick up dinner. Then when we get to the beach, you'll be surprised and charmed that I packed blankets and a cooler full of beer and a bottle of prosecco. And we can sit on the beach, talking and eating while the sun sets, unless you'd rather sit in the back of my vintage Bronco. And then, when the sky is just starting to turn purple, I'm going to kiss you."

The beat of silence was satisfying before you asked, "You're going to wait until after dinner to do that?" He could practically hear your pout which made him get to his feet again. He only had five more minutes with you right now, and he was going to have to make this count.

"You want me to kiss you before that?" he asked, his fingers wrapping around the edge of the counter as your soft laughter met his ears.

"I want you to kiss me as soon as you see me."

"Fuck," he panted. "Then consider that a done deal too, Gorgeous."

"Oh, I like that."

"Yeah?" he asked, watching time slip through his fingers. "You feel more confident now that you know where I live?"

"Yes," you replied softly.

"Good." He closed his eyes as he said, "We only have a little more time right now, Baby. Anything else you want from me?"

You squeaked softly. "Will you email me a gym selfie or two? With a nice closeup of your face?"

He couldn't get over you and the way you made him feel. "Yeah. I'll hit the gym tomorrow for you."

You hummed softly, and he sat down in his chair again, raking his fingers through his hair. God, he felt like a mixed up mess over you after this conversation. Your voice was so fucking sweet as you asked him, "Anything you want from me?"

His plentiful thoughts ranged the full spectrum from innocent to decidedly not as he tugged on his hair and tried to keep himself in check. "Yeah, actually," he said, gravel filling his voice. "You know that inactive dating profile you mentioned before?"

"Yes."

"You should delete the app. There's nothing I know about you that I don't like, and I feel like that trend is going to continue. If you feel the same way, then you don't need the app, Gorgeous."

After a brief pause, your beautiful voice told him, "Okay, Bradley. I'll delete it."

"Fucking aces," he said with a smile. "Where are you right now?"

You laughed softly as he realized he had less than a minute left on this call. "Curled up in my bed with the biggest smile on my face."

"Send me a selfie?"

"Consider it done, Lieutenant. It'll be there when you check your email next."

He leaned back in his chair. There was still so much he wanted to tell you and ask about, but it would have to wait. "Listen, I need to go. But I'm going to work on writing back to your class this week. And I'll get the selfies for you, too. I'll see you in our inboxes?"

That soft laughter was right there again, and he felt like his skin was on fire as you said, "I'll take you any way I can get you, Bradley."

You could have him as many ways as you wanted him. "I can't wait to get back to San Diego."

"I'll be ready when you do."

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

I'm sweating. He's too much. He's too powerful. Bradley Bradshaw, get home and get your girl some Thai food! Also, Natasha is the friend of the year for taking out the trash. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 7

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cherrycola27 · 2 years ago

Text

Red, White, and Rooster

Series Warnings: Language, alcohol consumption. Frenemies to lovers, relationship of convenience. Political situations. Allegations of affairs, military and political inaccuracies. Eventual smut. 18+ Minors DNI. Banner Credit: @thedroneranger

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...........................................

Chapter 4: A Wedding of Presidential Proportions

You couldn't sleep when you got back to the White House. You were pacing the floor of your room, trying to fabricate a believable love story for you and Bradley.

You would say that you'd gotten close during his campaign, and he proposed the night he was elected. That would explain why he risked his life for you after the last debate and why you held the Bible and danced with him at the inauguration. That would be believable.

You also had to think of a wedding date. It would need to be soon. Now that the people knew, they would push for a wedding. You settled on October. That would give you two months to figure this out.

You'd have to tell your parents tomorrow because you knew they would have questions, but you couldn't tell them the truth.

You were furiously trying to write notes down when you realized you should probably check on Bradley. It was almost two in the morning. You hoped he was still awake.

You grabbed your robe and note cards before sneaking down the hallway. You knocked once on his door before it flew open.

"You can't sleep either?" He asked you. "No. But I've been productive. You say as you enter his room.

You spend the next twenty minutes going over the tale you have spun for the two of you. He sits silently and nods along as you pace back and forth across the carpet of his bedroom.

"So, does it sound believable?" You ask him once you finish. "It does. You've really put a lot of thought into this." He agrees with you.

"Now, for a wedding date, I was thinking October because by the time the story gets out, we will have been 'planning' one for a few months." You tell him.

"Do we really have to get married? I mean, William and Kate dated for ten years before tying the knot." Bradley points out. "Yes, but their engagement was about a year. Trust me, I've thought about dragging it out, but with the digital age we live in, it gives people too long of a chance to find out we are lying." You explain to him.

"Okay, so after we get married, how long until we can get divorced?" He asks you. You stop in your tracks. You hadn't even thought about that.

"Well—" you begin, "If we get divorced in less than two or so years, people are going to be extremely upset. It will look bad on you, and the tabloids will start fabricating stories of infidelity between us, and it would tank your chances at reelection and my chances of ever working again." You continue.

"But, if we get divorced after two years, that would be peak reelection campaign time, and again, people would be angry that their favorite first couple is breaking up and it would give your opponents fuel for a smeer campaign and probably tank your ratings and cause a scandal." You tell him. Then it hits you like a ton of bricks.

"Oh my god." You breathe out. "What?" Bradley asks you as he sits up from his chair.

"The only way to prevent this whole thing from killing both of our careers is to stay together and get divorced after you get reelected or lose the 2028 election. It would be at least four years of marriage. Four years of a lie." You state.

You can feel the heat rising in your chest as the anxiety sets it. You being to pace faster around his room. Your eyes are wide with a far off look in them.

"Oh my god, we can't do this. We can't commit to this for FOUR YEARS Bradley. What was I thinking when I said that? I'll tell you what—I wasn't thinking. I didn't want the media to brand me as someone who slept her way to the top, but now I've sentenced both of us to a life of scrutiny in the public eye!" You shout at him.

"We can't do this. I was wrong about everything I said. I didn't have a plan, I wasn't thinking I just did, and now I've screwed everything up." Your voice starts to tremble. Your chest tightens, making it harder for you to breathe. You can feel the tears welling up in your eyes.

Bradley can see the cracks in your armor starting to break. The facade that you wear so well is slipping. His heart breaks when he sees the first tears slip down your cheeks. He's never seen you cry before. Come to think of it, he's never seen you as anything other than put together. He's shocked to see you like this. Emotional, vulnerable, raw.

"Where's my phone? I have to call Jaycee. I have to have her publish a story saying that I was lying and that we aren't a couple." You choke out. Your hands are trembling as you try to unlock your phone, but it's no use. The device falls from your fingers and crashes to the carpet.

That's all that it takes for you to fall to your knees and sob. Rooster immediately jumps from his seat and pulls you close to him. You're babbling about how you're sorry to him and about how you can save his career by tanking your own.

It's killing him inside to see you like this. To know that he's the reason you're having a panic attack at three in the morning. He doesn't know how to respond. Normally, you're the one picking up the pieces for him. So he does the only thing his can think to do. He sinks down on the floor next to you and pulls you close to him. He tucks you under his chin and rubs your back to soothe you.

"Y/N. Y/N—please, take a breath. Look at me." Bradley tells you softly. He takes your chin and gently directs it to meet his eyes.

"Let's take a couple of deep breaths together. Come on, breathe with me. Breathe in—and breathe out." He directs you. He repeats this several more times until your breathing is back under control, and you aren't crying anymore.

"Okay, let's talk through this slowly. We have two options. We can get married, spend the four years together, and then get a quick and amicable divorce after the election. If we do that, we both have a good chance of being able to continue our political careers, right?" He looks to you for your approval. You nod your head.

"Or, you commit political suicide by saying what? You made up the whole thing because you didn't want the media slandering you?" He asks. "It seems like they would slander you even more if you said we lied." He tells you.

"I can tell them that I can onto you, I was harassing you. Trying to blackmail you or something. If I did that, it would save your image. I could never work in politics again, though. I'd have to leave D.C." You stutter out, the anxiety still not fully gone from your body.

The thought of you leaving made Bradley sick to his stomach. He couldn't let you give up your dream for him.

"No." He says. "I won't let you do that. I can't let you do that. I wouldn't be in this position of power if it wasn't for you. I can't do this without you. I need you." He tells you earnestly.

"We are already friends. We can do this. We'd only have to pretend for the cameras and in the public eye. Behind closed doors, it doesn't matter. We can fake it til we make it." He laughs.

"You sure?" You ask him. "Positive." He confirms. You nod your head and smile at him. He helps you up. You take a deep breath and feel some relief.

You pause for a beat, and Bradley can see the exact moment you put your mask back on. Gone is the vulnerability you'd just shared with him, and back was the bravado he'd seen you wear so well.

"You know you'll have to make sure any hookup you bring here signs and NDA, right?" You ask him.

"Come again?" He blurts out with a look of confusion. The sudden change in your demeanor has his head spinning.

"Look, Bradley, even if we have to be married for a bit, I don't expect you to be celibate the entire time. You won't be the first president to have a mistress, but you'll be the first with permission. You snicker at the last part.

"I mean I'll do the same." You reassure him.

Bradley is too stunned to speak. The idea of either of you having a lover made his heart ache. He couldn't stomach the thought of another man touching you or getting to see the side of you that you kept closed off from him.

"Yeah, I understand." He hesitated. The silence around the two of you was uncomfortable.

"Right. So, I'm going to call a jeweler in the morning so we can pick out a ring and make sure you memorize these cards." You tell him as you hand him some flash cards, breaking the tension.

"I have the ring covered." Bradley tells you. "What?" You ask him. Unsure if you heard him correctly. "I have the ring covered. I'll memorize the cards. For now, we both need to get some sleep." He rubs your arms in a reassuring way.

"Okay. You're right. Goodnight, Bradley." You tell him as you leave his room. "Goodnight, Mrs. Bradshaw" He calls down the hallway after you. You roll your eyes and try to ignore the butterflies in your stomach.

The next day around lunch, Jake storms into your room. "Wise-woman! Girl, what the fuck?!" He asks you.

"Jake, I don't have time for this. I was in a life or death situation. It was either fake engagement or political ruin. I did what I had to do." You explain to him. "I know, I know. Rooster already gave me the same speech. So you're really going to do this interview. Get married and all that jazz?" Jake asks as he comes to sit with you.

He flops down on the couch in your sitting room while absent-mindedly tossing a baseball in the air.

"Yeah, it's not ideal, but it keeps all of us employed. Well, let me rephrase that. It keeps you and Bradley employed. Meanwhile, I get to be paraded around as a piece of arm candy, and the only thing people are going to care about is what time wearing." You sigh.

"You know there are way worse things than being the First Lady of the United States. You think that no one is going to care about what you have to say, but Bradley will. He values your opinion more than any of his advisors. And you could have a serious social impact. Doesn't every First Lady have a platform that she focuses on during her time? Think of the change you could make. The good you could do in the world." Jake tells you. You hadn't really thought about it that way.

"Plus, do you know how many women in America would gladly take your place? I do, because I've seen the tweets and the tiktoks. Marrying Bradley isn't the prison sentence you're making it out to be." Jake finishes his pep talk to you before silently tossing his ball some more.

You sit there, taking in his words and processing them.

Neither of you is sure what to say until Jake speaks again. "So, on another note, your friend at the Post who's interviewing you—is she single by chance?" Jake asks you.

You laugh at his comment. Of course, he would ask you about Jaycee when you're having a crisis moment.

"Jake! You're such an asshole!" You laugh as you throw a pillow from the couch at him.

"Knock knock." Bradley comes in. "And that's my cue to go." Jake says as he gets up to leave.

Bradley comes and sits down next to you. He puts a small box on the table in front of you. "Go on. Open it." He tells you.

You open it, and your breath catches in your throat. Inside is the most beautiful ring you've ever seen. It's an oval cut diamond, easily five karats or better. It's flanked by two pear cut amethysts and set on a silver band.

"Bradley how—" you ask him. "Called in a favor." He tells you. You stare at it a moment before he takes it out of the box and slips it on your hand. "Size eight. Just like you said." He smiles at you. "Oval because of the Oval Office, right?" You joke with him. "Exactly." He breathes out.

"So, are you ready for this interview?" You ask him. "If I'm being honest, no. But I know that just like everything else, we can get through it together." Bradley kisses your cheek and pats your leg before getting up to leave. The skin where his lips touched buzzes with a familiar feeling that you're desperately trying to push back down.

Thanks to your careful planning, you made it through the interview with Jaycee. By the time you and Bradley arrived back to the White House, you were trending on social media, and #Wiseshaw was going viral. You had succeeded in pacifying the nation for a while.

Now, the real challenge began: planning a wedding.

..................

"Does it really matter so much about the flowers!" You groaned into the sofa cushion. The wedding was a week away, and instead, if sitting in on interviews for who was going to take over your position once you became the First Lady, you were with Jake and Jaycee picking out center pieces.

You had hated all of the aspects of planning the wedding. You hated them because over the past two months, you'd found yourself unable to deny the fact that you had feelings for Bradley. He truly was the man of your dreams, but the only reason you were able to have him was because of a lie.

Magazines, news outlets, and social media called you the perfect political power couple. The people ate up the engagement shoot you'd released, and the buzz of your upcoming nuptials was all anyone could talk about. People were rabid wondering what your dress was going to look like, who would be on the guest list, and most importantly, people wondered how long it would be until the two of you had children.

Of course, there was speculation that you were already pregnant due to how fast you were getting married from the time you announced your engagement. If only the people knew that your husband would never touch you like that.

You were broken from your thoughts by Jake.

"Yes, it really does matter, Wise- woman. You and the president are getting married. This is the closest thing America is ever going to get to a royal wedding." You looked at Jaycee and rolled your eyes because you knew Jake was right. This would be the first time a president had gotten married in office in over a hundred years. In the minds of many, this was a royal wedding. The two of you were the American Will and Kate.

"Jakey is just trying to be helpful as the best man and all." Jaycee tells you as she gets up to wrap her arms around him.

"If you two could keep it in your pants while I'm here, I would appreciate it." You tell them. You shuttered at the memory of finding out they were seeing each other. You had gone to Jake's office to ask him to sign off on some things, and instead, you found him and Jaycee, using his desk for purposes that it was not intended for.

"Oh c'mon, don't be such a grumpy gills. You'll be getting your taste of a man in power soon enough." Jaycee laughs.

"No, I will not. This marriage is a business arrangement. I'm not going to sleep with Bradley. I'm not even going to move out of my room." You tell them. You get up to leave as Jake and Jaycee shoot each other a knowing look.

.......................

Saturday comes quicker than you expected. All morning, people are fussing over you and helping you get ready. Jaycee is doing her best to keep you calm. You aren't nervous because you are getting married. You're nervous because your life is about to change.

You wonder if Bradley has the same knots in his stomach or if he is calm and collected.

The funny thing is, as he's getting ready, Bradley wonders the same thing about you.

He's paced around his room about five hundred times since he woke up this morning. You had no clue that Jake and Bradley's godfather Maverick had been trying to keep him calm.

He knows it's just about time, and his hands shake as he tries to tie his bow tie. You always make it look so easy. He growls in frustration before Maverick takes over. "The last time I saw a Bradshaw, this nervous was when Goose was getting ready to marry your mom. He was awful with ties, too." Maverick smiles at him, trying ease the tension. "They'd be so proud of you, kid." Maverick smiles as he smooths out Bradley's collar.

Soon, the wedding coordinator is coming to get them. It was time.

The wedding is to be held in the Rose Garden with a reception to follow in the banquet room of the White House. Everything is perfect. The chairs, the flowers, the table settings, the center pieces, the decor. All of it is fit for a wedding of presidential proportions. You'd spent two months going over seating charts, menu options, and cake flavors. Every time you asked Bradley what he wanted, he always responded with, "Whatever you want dear." You roll your eyes at the memory. Of course, he would be better in a fake relationship than any of your previous real ones.

As you put the finishing touches on your makeup, the thought of running crosses your mind.

You don't have time to ponder it though. It's almost show time. Your mother and Jaycee help you into your dress. It's a soft taffeta ball gown with ruching on the bodice. Its sleeves are slightly off the shoulder, and it has a jeweled belt at the waist. You could describe your dress best as "a modern take on Jackie Kennedy." Your mother helped you secure your cathedral length veil in your hair. She brushed a few stray hairs from your face before making sure your oval pendant was centered on your neck. Jaycee handed you your bouquet of lavender roses before grabbing the train of your dress and veil to help you out of your room.

Your father smiled when he saw you. Both of your parents were so proud of you. Their daughter was about to be the First Lady.

You took a deep breath as you walked out of french doors to the top of the staircase.

Your heart felt like it was about to beat out of your chest as your feet carried you down the steps. It felt like you were in autopilot.

The violin quartet began to play "august" as Maverick walked down the aisle, holding framed photos of his parents before sitting them in two reserved seats. Jake followed him with your mother before coming back. Several of his former Navy friends escorted your bridesmaids down the aisle. Then, Jaycee and Jake made their way down the aisle. As the song looped, you could help think about the irony of it all. The man that you were about to marry would never be yours, not really.

Soon, it was your turn. You smiled as you heard the first bars of "Wildest Dreams" start to play. If it was one thing Bradley knew about you, it was how much you loved Taylor Swift. It only seemed fitting that he would pick two of her songs for your wedding.

Damn him and his ability to give you butterflies. It wasn't fair.

Everything moved in slow motion. The walk down the stair case and down the aisle felt like the longest ten minutes of your life. You did your best to look the part of the perfect blushing bride, but it was so hard.

Looking out at the perfectly place chairs with their perfectly draped cloth covers and perfectly tied lavender bows made you feel sick.

The sight of the wooden pergola draped in in greens and tulle made your knees weak. The meticulous rolled out white cloth that was covered in dainty lavender flower petals for the aisle had the bile in your stomach rising to your throat.

Everything was so perfect. Or at least it would have been if this was real. Your father could feel you tense up as you reached the bottom of the stair case and turned to stand at the end of the aisle. He patted your hand to comfort you. Everyone rose up from their seats, and for the first time, you allowed yourself to look up and look at Bradley. He was standing at the top of the aisle beaming at you. Suddenly, all of the anxiety you were feeling melted away. A genuine smile crossed your face as you began to almost float towards him.

You watched him brush a few stray tears from his eyes.

Your eyes stayed trained on Bradley the whole time. If you didn't know any better, you'd think he was actually in love with you.

"You look beautiful." He whispered to you as you joined him at the altar. "Your tie's crooked." You whisper back. "Sorry, I didn't have help." He chuckled before the officiant asked everyone to be seated.

The ceremony goes by in a flash. You and Bradley exchanged vows and rings. And soon you heard the officiant say, "Mr. President, you may kiss your bride."

You lean forward to press a polite kiss to Bradley's lips, but in an unexpected turn of events, he sweeps you into his arms and dips you before kissing you. Everyone erupts in applause. The officiant speaks once more. "Ladies and gentlemen, it is my pleasure to present to you, for the first time, President and Mrs. Bradley Bradshaw!"

Bradley grabs your hand as Jaycee hands you your bouquet before you walk back down the aisle under a sea of flower petals.

During the entire reception, Bradley doesn't leave your side as the two of you mingle. You have your first dance as husband and wife to a slowed down version of "I've Had The Time of My Laugh. You grin at his nod to the first time you danced with him. After you finish, its time to cut the cake. You enjoyed smashing some of it in his face more than you should have. Your smile never leaves your face. You can't believe how easy it is to pretend to be in love with him.

But that's all it is, pretend. You've signed yourself up to continue this charade with him for the next four years.

After the reception, you change into a white lace tea length dress. You and Bradley board Air Force one. You have three days for a private honeymoon. Bradley releases his duties to Jake for the time being before you leave.

Soon, you're touching down somewhere tropical.

You're exhausted by the time you make it there.

The two of you get settled into your bungalow. All you want to do is change and get some sleep.

"Can you unzip me? I want to take a shower. There's two bathrooms here if you want to shower too." You inform Bradley. He's happy to help. He unzips your dress. He sees the white lace of the bra and panties you are wearing.

"Thanks." You tell him before trapsing off to a shower.

Bradley groans and adjusts himself before heading off to the other bathroom. God, his right hand is going to be tired after this trip.

After an hour in the bathroom, you finally come out. You find Bradley sitting in a chair watching TV.

"You aren't in bed yet?" You question him.

"I wasn't sure which side you slept on, and I didn't want to assume." He says as he gets up and gestures to the huge bed in the middle of the room.

"Oh, it doesn't matter. I'm not sleeping in here." You laugh. He looks at you confused before you go to the other side of the room and on unlatch a door he hadn't noticed before.

"Did you really think I wouldn't plan a head to make sure we had two rooms?" You ask him.

"I—I shouldn't have doubted your abilities." He tells you, with a hint of sadness in his voice.

"It's fine. Look, we've had a long day. We'll talk more in the morning." You smile and kiss his cheek before walking into your room. "Goodnight, Mr. President." You call to him.

"Goodnight, Mrs. Bradshaw." He calls back.

He hears the sound of the lock on the door clicking. He sighs before dropping back into the armchair. He runs his fingers through his hair before taking a look at the silver band that now adorns his finger. He twists it a few times and sighs.

How was he going to get through the next four years of this?

Little did he know that just on the other side of the door, you were dying inside too.

A special shoutout to @thedroneranger for beta reading this chapter and listening to my rambles!

Taglist: @daggerspare-standingby @shanimallina87 @teacupsandtopgun @hecate-steps-on-me @roosterscock @roosterbruiser @roosterforme @seresinsbabe @startrekfangirl2233 @soulmates8 @xoxabs88xox @avengersfan25 @blackwidownat2814 @loveforaugust @mak-32 @cottagecori @amysteryspot @heyimmadisonn @princess76179 @bradshawseresinbabe @sunlightmurdock @lt-bradshaw @cassiemitchell @die-cunt @mj-l4 @shipinabluebottle @malindacath @violyn20 @imawkwardlysoc @books-for-summer @blackroseboulevard @recordblues @desert-fern @luckyladycreator2 @katieshook02 @samhapner6 @sebsxphia @roosters-girl @diorrfairy @je-suis-prest-rachel @chicomonks @mizzzpink @a-linabean @amklibrary @gretagerwigsmuse @jstarr86 @actuallyazriel @krismdavis

#cherrycola27 #top gun maverick #top gun #rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster top gun #bradley bradshaw #rooster smut #bradley bradshaw smut #lt. bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #tgm fanfiction #tgm fic #tgm #tgm smut #top gun rooster #top gun smut #red white and rooster

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bradshawssugarbaby · 1 year ago

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ok but imagine rooster just laying in the sand like this with you ughhhhh

FROM HERE TO ETERNITY (1953) dir. Fred Zinnemann

#oldhollywoodedit #classic hollywood #from here to eternity #burt lancaster #deborah kerr #rooster bradshaw #lt. bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw

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averagewriter-inthedark · 2 years ago

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Her Lover 💗 | Bradley Bradshaw Social Media AU

Goes with my full length imagine “Lover”

TGM masterlist

All pictures from Pinterest, collages made with Canva

#bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw fluff #bradley bradshaw headcanon #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley Bradshaw #rooster imagine #rooster x y/n #lt bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster fanfiction #tgm headcanon #TGM social media au #tgm fanfiction #tgm au #rooster au #singer!reader

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bradshawssugarbaby · 1 year ago

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birthday threesome with hangman and rooster yes pls.

(not my pics i just saved them from the depths of the internet, credit to whoever posted originally)

#hangman #rooster #top gun maverick fic #lt. bradley bradshaw #lt. jake seresin

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bradshawssugarbaby · 1 year ago

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This and the early grave comment are where Rooster’s daddy issues really come out.

Bold talk for a man who’s canonically 35+ and also not married, no kids and no family other than Mav.

“No wife. No kids. Nobody to mourn you when you burn in.” Is one of the meanest things a character has ever said to another in a movie and it’s even meaner when you know it was said by the recipient’s surrogate kid I guess Maverick really did love his stupid asshole son huh because he should have made chicken cacciatore out of Rooster for that one

#i said what i said #rooster #lt. bradley bradshaw #top gun: maverick

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doyoulikethissong-poll · 10 months ago

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Jerry Lee Lewis - Great Balls of Fire 1957

"Great Balls of Fire" is a song recorded by American rock and roll musician Jerry Lee Lewis. It was written by Otis Blackwell and Jack Hammer. The song was featured in a performance by Jerry Lee Lewis and his band in the 1957 Warner Brothers rock and roll film Jamboree.

It sold one million copies in its first 10 days of release in the US making it one of the best-selling singles in the US at that time. It reached number 2 on the Billboard pop charts, number 3 on the R&B charts, and number 1 on the country charts. It also reached number 1 on the UK Singles Chart, and appeared on the New Zealand Singles Chart and the Dutch Top 40. It was ranked as the 96th greatest song ever by Rolling Stone. In 1998, "Great Balls of Fire" was inducted into the Grammy Hall of Fame.

In the 1986 film Top Gun, LTJG Nick "Goose" Bradshaw (Anthony Edwards) plays the song in a bar with his family and Pete "Maverick" Mitchell (Tom Cruise). The song is performed again in the sequel, the 2022 film Top Gun: Maverick by Goose's son LT Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw (Miles Teller).

"Great Balls of Fire" received a total of 75,4% yes votes!

youtube

#finished #high yes #low no #low reblog #50s #jerry lee lewis #english #o1 #o1 sweep #o1 ultrasweep #o234 #lo23 #lo24 #lo34

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callsign-muffin · 5 months ago

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Heal Together: Chapter 1

(Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw fic)

I've been lurking on here for a while, reading Top Gun fics and I recently got inspired to write one of my own. Hopefully someone reads it and likes it!

Note about the format: Between every header is a change in the point of view :)

Summery: When Rooster was med-evaced back to San Diego from the mission field, the last thing he expected was to wake up with a tube down his throat and the most beautiful woman he's ever seen at his bedside.

Masterlist

Word Count: 2.1k

“Hey Carly, I’m taking over for room 4 today. Are you ready to give report?” You ask the cute blonde night shift nurse, she looked about 12 years old. What in the hell was she doing in the ICU of a military hospital? Hell, you should be asking yourself the same question. You hated it here at this boys club where nurses were ignored as a female dominated profession, despite being the people who spend the most amount of time at the patient’s bedside in a 12 hour stretch. But you were only one week into this eight week travel assignment and the money was great, so you just had to grin and bear it and make as few enemies as possible.

“The census is low, is this gonna be your only patient?” She asked.

“Yeah.” You pulled out your report sheet and pen, “Let’s hope it stays that way.”

You could tell Carly was fresh off of orientation by how nervous she looked before beginning to speak.

“Hey,” You placed a comforting hand on her knee, “take your time, tell me what you know, and if I have any questions I’ll ask them when you’re done. You just finished a long shift, it’s okay to be a little out of it. We’ll get all the info we need together. No pressure, okay?”

“Okay,” Carly nodded and took a deep breath, “This is Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw, 35 year old male, full code, no known allergies…”

You quietly took down the pertinent information about Lt. Bradshaw as Carly spoke. He was a pilot, recovered after a crash, and was stitched back together pretty well on the aircraft carrier, he went septic and was transported back to the states to your hospital. Pretty standard stuff. He was currently on a ventilator for breathing support but all seemed to be going in a positive direction despite the shitty circumstances.

Carly finished her report with a sigh of relief, you had a feeling the staff nurses weren’t as respectful when receiving report from a new graduate. “Any questions?”

“Any family at the bedside?” You asked.

“No, no family. Apparently a guy named Pete Mitchell calls daily for updates, they’re not related but he’s included on the patient’s medical information release forms, so we can talk to him. Chart says he’s single, no siblings, and both parents have passed away.” Carly yawned, she was beginning to fade after a long night. You didn’t want to hold her up anymore than necessary, she needed to get home and go to bed.

“Okay,” You clicked your pen, “Sounds good. Let’s go check lines and meds so you can get out of here.”

She paused for a second as you got up from your chair at the nurses station, “Y/N… thank you for being so nice… I’m only a week off of orientation and things are still so new…”

You smiled at the compliment, “We’ve all been there. Every nurse on this unit was new at one point and I think sometimes they forget that. Hell, I’m a traveler and this is only my second week and there’s so much that’s new to me too. You’re doing great.”

You spent the first part of your morning before rounds with the care team just cleaning up the patient, organizing the room, all that good stuff. Though it wasn’t necessarily considered “professional”, you played some music softly from your phone as you worked. You found that music or just talking to patients on vents helped with agitation. You couldn’t imagine anything more tortuous than listening to repetitive beeping and alarms all day long and nothing else. Though most managers didn’t like it, that didn’t stop you. What were they gonna do? Fire you? Hospitals hire travelers at such a high price point when they’re understaffed and desperate. They needed you more than you needed them.

█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █

“When the sun goes down, we’ll be groovin’

When the sun goes down, we’ll feel alright

When the sun sinks down over the water

Everything is hotter when the sun goes down…”

Who the fuck listens to Kenny Chesney anymore? Rooster thought to himself.

He knew he was sick, the docs on the ship told him that before they knocked him out to shove the tube down his throat. They told him he’d be med-evaced back to San Diego because the hospital where he was overseas didn’t have the capabilities to take care of someone as sick as him. He didn’t know how long he had been there, all the days run together when you’re too weak to open your eyes. He was used to having things done to him, he was past the point of getting agitated about it, because he knew they’d just sedate him more.

“Alright, Bradshaw.” A confident voice said, “All of your lines are untangled, your room is clean, and your initial assessment is done… How about we have a little spa day? You’re smellin’ a little… ripe.”

RUDE!

“HA! You can hear me! You raised your eyebrows!” She giggled, damn it was a cute giggle. Rooster honestly hadn’t realized he was moving his face. But he believed her because that’s what his face usually does when he’s surprised. “You’ve been caught. No more playing dumb.”

Water started running, splashing, and the suction was turned on… that sound usually meant his mouth was gonna get cleaned and he was gonna feel something funny down his throat. He hated it.

“Carly told me you were getting agitated during mouth care last night. Since you can hear me, I’m going to tell you everything I’m doing, so don’t get sassy with me.” She said, “Deal?”

Anything for the first person not to treat me like a damn vegetable. This was the first time someone actually talked to him and told him what the fuck was happening since he got here. It was a welcome change.

The kind yet sassy voice interrupted his thoughts, “Okay, mouth care. I’ll be quick, I promise.”

She didn’t lie to him, she was quick and the stupid suction caused him minimal discomfort. Maybe it was because he could brace himself, or maybe it was because she was just really good at her job.

“I’m about to give you a full body bath, so how about we get to know each other a little bit.” She said as she adjusted his sheets and pillows to reposition him, placing a towel under his head, and rinsing his hair with warm water.

Rooster’s whole body relaxed.

“My name is Y/N Y/L/N and I’m obviously your nurse today and will probably be for the next few days…” Nurse Y/N went on about where she’s from, her hobbies, how she’s not making many friends in this new hospital she’s been contracted out to.

Welcome to the military, it’s a boy’s club. He wished he could say that to her. He imagined medicine was similar to aviation, full of egos.

Before Rooster knew it, his whole body had been washed from head to toe. He hadn’t felt this clean in what felt like years.

“So Lieutenant… not to be crude but… I gotta clean your bits. But at least we’ve really gotten to know each other.” Nurse Y/N said, “Your girlfriend will thank me later.”

Ha! Rooster laughed to himself, What girlfriend?! My dick hasn’t been played with in months!

Like with the mouth care, her cleaning was quick and respectful. And damn, being clean felt so good. She went on to change his gown, sheets, and blankets. Rooster truly felt like a new man.

“Lieutenant Bradshaw, you’ve never looked better.” She said with a satisfied sigh.

That’s a damn lie, but I’ll take the compliments wherever I can get them at this point.

“Hey Y/N,” Another female voice said, “They’re starting with you for rounds. Are you ready to present your patient or should I stall?”

“Nah, I’m ready. Tell them to come in whenever.” Nurse Y/N said, then her voice got low and she whispered to Bradley, “I’m gonna try to get them to lighten your sedation and move towards trials of turning the ventilator off. It’s not gonna be comfortable but the sooner we start working towards getting that tube out of your throat, the sooner you can get the hell out of here.”

Rooster wanted to make sure she knew he heard her and that he was on board, it took every ounce of strength in his body, but he nodded.

█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █

“No way.” The resident physician said simply after you gave your recommendation with your presentation of Lt. Bradshaw

You were dumbfounded. What the hell did he mean no?!, “This patient was more than ready to move towards extubation.”

“And what makes you the expert?” the resident asked.

Oh lord, this fresh out of med school asshole was turning rounds into a dick measuring contest.

“The fact that I’ve been at his bedside for the past three and a half hours, I assessed him, bathed him, turned him, and he is showing signs of progress. The next step is spontaneous breathing trials and extubation. The longer he stays on the vent, the more likely he is to get pneumonia, as we all should know, Doctor.” You explained coolly but made sure to add his (probably newly earned) title.

“I agree with…” The attending looked at you and scanned your badge, “... Y/N… What do you think from a Respiratory Therapy standpoint, Brent?” He looked over at Brent, the RT.

Brent smirked and narrowed his eyes at the resident, “I also think moving towards extubation is a good thing. If he has two successful trials, he could be off the vent by the end of the day.”

The attending physician nodded, “Then it’s a plan. And I think this is a really good lesson for the residents and medical students with us on rounds, the nurses know more about the patient than we do. We should always consider their recommendations because they have the most valuable view on the patient, simply because they spend time with them.”

You tried to dim the glow that was on your face.

“Thanks, Dr…” You scanned the attending’s badge the same way he did yours.

“Carter, Brendan Carter.” He extended his hand and you shook it, “Glad to have you here.”

That was the most welcome anyone had made you feel in the last week here. Who would’ve thought a wrinkly old attending doctor with dancing eyes would be the person to stand up for you and make you feel secure in your clinical decision making.

█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █

Rooster wasn’t sure how much time had gone by since Nurse Y/N told him she was turning down his sedatives but it felt like he could open his eyes almost instantly. It was so… bright. Once his eyes adjusted, he scanned his surroundings, the lights weren’t even on but the sun shining through the large window felt blinding. He looked to his left and saw the machine that the tube in his throat was attached to, the machine that had kept him alive for God knows how long. He looked to his right and saw multiple IV poles that attached him to lines and lines of medicine and fluid. Further to his right, he saw a woman standing at a computer, typing away furiously, her face was serious yet beautiful, was that Nurse Y/N?

“Good morning, Lt. Bradshaw.” She said quietly, “You’re still attached to your breathing tube, so you can’t talk. Now that you’re awake we’re one step closer to getting you off that thing. Sound good?”

Rooster nodded slowly, wishing he could thank her for everything. For talking to him, bathing him, treating him like a human-being.

“Do you feel strong enough to write?” She asked, “Can I get you a whiteboard?”

He nodded again.

“I’ll be right back.” She swiftly left the room.

Rooster couldn’t help but love watching her walk away. Along with a beautiful face, he could tell she had a great body hiding underneath those scrubs. It had been so long since he’d seen a pretty girl.

She returned quickly with a whiteboard and a marker, handing it to him, “What’s on your mind Lieutenant?”

Call me Bradley. He scribbled,

“Nice to meet you Bradley.” She smiled down at him, “How are ya feelin’?”

Better now that I’m clean and awake. He wrote.

“There’s something healing about a bath and being taken out of your drug induced sleep, huh?” She giggled.

Rooster nodded and started writing again, Thank you for everything.

“No biggie. I’m glad to see you doing so well. Is it okay if I do a full assessment on you, just since you’re awake now?” She asked.

He nodded, this girl could do anything she wanted to him. She was basically his angel.

#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x y/n #bradley bradshaw x y/n #rooster x y/n #top gun maverick fic #bradley rooster bradshaw fic #rooster x you #top gun fic #top gun maverick fanfiction

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