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topgun-imagines · 1 year

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Say My Name

Requested: no

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

Word count: 3.4k

Note: banner by @lewmagoo

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

Pairings: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x fem!reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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imthebadguyyy · 4 months

Text

guilty as sin?

pairing : bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x reader

fandom : top gun

series : the tortured poets department

synopsis : what if he's written 'mine' on my upper thigh only in my mind?

warnings : smut

a/n : on a major rooster kick right now so all his fics are coming out first!! happy reading! plus this is my FAVOURITE song on the album.

my boredom's bone deep...

The familiar hum of chatter and clinking glasses filled the Hard Deck as you leaned against the bar, nursing your drink. Your squadron mates were engaged in a spirited game of pool, their laughter and banter echoing through the room. Despite the lively atmosphere, you found yourself detached, your mind wandering to more tantalizing thoughts.

Your gaze drifted to Bradley, who was standing across the room, effortlessly charismatic as always. His aviator sunglasses perched on his nose even indoors, a casual grin tugging at the corners of his lips. He was engrossed in a conversation with Phoenix, but you couldn't tear your eyes away.

You imagined running your hands through his tousled hair, feeling the soft strands slip between your fingers. The way his muscles would flex under your touch, his strong arms wrapping around you, pulling you close. Your breath hitched at the thought, a flush rising to your cheeks.

Bradley's eyes flickered to you, and for a moment, you wondered if he could read your mind. He raised an eyebrow, a teasing smirk playing on his lips. You quickly averted your gaze, pretending to be interested in your drink, but the image of him lingered in your mind.

The thought of his hands roaming your body sent a shiver down your spine. You imagined the roughness of his calloused palms against your skin, the heat of his breath on your neck. Your heart raced as you pictured the two of you in a secluded corner of the bar, his lips trailing a line of fire down your throat, his body pressing against yours with an intensity that left you breathless.

You could almost hear his low, husky voice whispering in your ear, saying things that made your knees weak. The thought of him murmuring your name in that deep, commanding tone sent a thrill through you, making your pulse quicken.

"Hey, you okay?" Phoenix's voice snapped you back to reality. You turned to see her looking at you with a curious expression.

"Yeah, just... lost in thought," you replied, forcing a smile.

Before she could probe further, Bradley approached, his presence commanding your attention. "Need another drink?" he asked, his voice sending a pleasant shiver down your spine.

You nodded, handing him your empty glass. As he took it from you, his fingers brushed yours, a simple touch that felt electric. "Thanks," you managed to say, your voice sounding a little breathless even to your own ears.

He smiled, a knowing glint in his eyes. "Anytime," he said, his voice low and smooth. He turned to head back to the bar, and you watched him go, unable to stop the explicit thoughts that continued to dance in your mind.

As the night wore on, you couldn't help but steal glances at Bradley, each look intensifying your desire. You wondered if he could feel the same pull, if he was just as affected by the charged atmosphere between you. The thought that he might be daydreaming about you in the same way sent a rush of heat through your body.

The Hard Deck was buzzing with energy, but all you could think about was Bradley and the way he made you feel. You knew that tonight, your dreams would be filled with him, and you couldn't wait for the day those fantasies might become reality.

what if he's written mine on my upper thigh only in my mind?

The hum of the aircraft engines had long since faded, replaced by the soft rustling of sheets and the gentle sound of your breathing. You lay in your bunk, exhausted from a day of flying, quickly slipping into a deep sleep.

The world around you was soft and warm, the room dimly lit by the golden glow of a bedside lamp. You found yourself in a spacious bed, surrounded by soft, crisp sheets that smelled faintly of Bradley's cologne. The room was quiet, save for the sound of your quiet laughter and the low, melodious chuckles coming from Bradley beside you.

He was lying on his side, propped up on one elbow, gazing at you with those mesmerizing eyes. His hair was tousled, his face relaxed, and a mischievous smile played on his lips. You felt a flutter of excitement in your chest, a thrill of anticipation as he leaned in closer.

His lips brushed against yours, soft and warm, sending sparks of electricity through your body. You giggled against his mouth, your hands finding their way to his hair, pulling him closer. The kiss deepened, becoming more passionate, more intense, until you were both breathless and laughing.

Bradley's hand trailed down your side, his touch gentle and teasing. He pulled back slightly, his eyes locked onto yours, filled with an intensity that made your heart race. "You're mine," he whispered, his voice low and possessive, sending a shiver down your spine.

You felt his fingers on your skin, tracing delicate patterns on your upper thigh. Slowly, deliberately, he spelled out the word "mine" with his fingertip, the sensation making your skin tingle and your breath hitch. Each letter was a promise, a declaration that made your heart swell with desire and longing.

You laughed softly, the sound filled with happiness and contentment. Bradley's eyes sparkled with amusement and something deeper, something that made you feel cherished and adored. He leaned in again, his lips finding yours in a kiss that was both tender and passionate, a kiss that made you feel like you were the center of his universe.

His hands slowly moved lower, spreading your thighs apart, lips slowly trailing down your body in a heated trail, kissing your chest, your tummy, your belly button, one hand wrapping softly around your throat, all the way to your hips...

Just as the he was reaching the juncture between your thighs, you jolted awake. The abruptness of reality hit you like a cold splash of water. Your heart was pounding, your skin flushed and warm. The darkness of your bunk contrasted sharply with the golden glow of the dream, the laughter and intimacy replaced by the quiet hum of the sleeping quarters.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. The dream had felt so real, so vivid, that you could almost still feel Bradley's touch on your thigh, his lips on yours. The memory of his whispered words echoed in your mind, making your skin tingle with the aftershocks of the dream.

You rolled onto your back, staring up at the ceiling, your mind replaying every moment of the dream. The feelings it had stirred within you were undeniable, and you knew that the next time you saw Bradley, it would be impossible to look at him without remembering the way his touch had made you feel.

With a sigh, you closed your eyes, hoping that sleep would take you back to that dream, back to Bradley's arms, back to the warmth and laughter that had felt so right.

messy top lip kiss, how I long for our trysts...

The sun was high in the sky, casting a golden glow over the beach as you and the rest of the squad gathered for a spirited game of volleyball. The laughter and competitive banter filled the air, mingling with the sound of crashing waves and the calls of seagulls. Maverick was in top form, his eyes gleaming with the thrill of the game, while everyone else was enjoying the carefree atmosphere.

Bradley stood out among the group, his shirt discarded, revealing a toned, sun-kissed torso that glistened with sweat. He moved with a grace and power that drew your eyes to him, unable to look away. His aviator sunglasses reflected the bright sunlight, giving him an air of effortless coolness.

As the game progressed, you found it harder and harder to focus on the ball. You had opted to just lay on the same after playing for a while, settling on the blue blanket phoenix had got for you, sipping on a glass of fresh watermelon juice, lounging with Omaha on the beach. Instead, your eyes followed Bradley, admiring the way his muscles flexed with each movement, the way he ran across the sand with such confidence and ease. Every time he jumped to spike the ball, you felt a flutter in your chest, your breath catching in your throat.

His abs glistened with sweat as he chest bumped Payback, muscles rippling in his back like waves, denim shorts slung low on his hips, so tight fitting they looked like they were painted onto his legs.

At one point, Bradley looked your way and flashed you a brilliant smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Your jaw dropped slightly, mesmerized by the sight. His tanned skin, the way the sun highlighted every defined line of his body, left you feeling flustered and warm.

Bob sidled up to you, noticing your slack-jawed stare. "Cherry, stop drooling over him. You'll catch flies in your mouth," he teased, a playful smirk on his face.

You snapped your mouth shut, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. "I wasn't—" you started to protest, but Bob's knowing look silenced you. He chuckled and jogged back to his position, leaving you to your thoughts.

Your mind wandered, slipping into a daydream where the volleyball game faded away, and it was just you and Bradley on the beach. The sound of the waves became a soothing backdrop as he walked toward you, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race.

He reached out, his hand warm as it cupped your cheek. "I've been waiting for this," he murmured, his voice low and filled with promise. You felt a shiver of anticipation run through you as he leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was both tender and passionate.

It was a messy top lip kiss, the kind that left you breathless and craving more. His lips were soft and demanding, moving against yours with a fervor that made your knees weak. You felt his hand slide to the small of your back, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss until you were lost in the sensation of him.

The kiss led to more, each touch and caress igniting a fire within you. You imagined the two of you tangled in each other's arms, exploring and discovering every inch of skin. His fingers tracing patterns along your spine, his lips traveling from your mouth to your neck, leaving a trail of heated kisses.

It left you flushed and yearning, the volleyball game and your surroundings forgotten. All you could think about was Bradley, and the way he made you feel with just a look, a touch, a kiss.

A sudden cheer from your teammates brought you back to reality, and you realized you had missed the last few plays of the game. Bradley was laughing with Maverick, his eyes bright with triumph. He glanced your way again, catching your gaze, and for a moment, it felt like he could see the daydreams playing out in your mind.

He licked his pink lips, thumb running over his moustache. You clenched your thighs, instantly thinking about how good it would feel, his face nestled between your legs, lips trailing kisses all over your throbbing core...

You quickly looked away, hoping your flushed cheeks didn't give you away. But even as the game continued, your thoughts kept drifting back to those imagined moments with Bradley, the feel of his lips on yours, the warmth of his touch, and the undeniable connection that left you longing for more.

these fatal fantasies, giving way to laboured breath..

All you could think about was his warm wet tongue sliding up your folds and then his long fingers curling inside you. You imagined his lips on your clit, sucking so harshly it made filthy noises. Your heart was racing as your slid your finger up your folds and began rubbing your clit as your other hand and cupped your breasts, and then pinching and twisting your hard nipples.

Quickly, you slide your finger into your dripping hole and then adding in another one to feel full. You pictured Bradley's cock ramming in and out of you so rough and so fast. You imagined his warm cum filling up your walls.

Your fingers sped up against your clit, moaning as the image of Bradley licking your pussy flooded your vision. "Fuck! Rooster!" You groaned, hips rising and falling as you chased your high.

"Oh fuck! Shit!" You moaned, hips arching high as you rubbed the sensitive nub faster, head slamming back against your pillow, hips stuttering as your orgasm hit you like a freight train.

Your chest heaved, thighs glistening and breath coming laboured as you panted, eyes shut as you inhaled deep breaths of air.

"Fuck me..." You muttered as you slowly sat up. Looking at the time, you cursed when you realised you had to meet the other at the hard deck in half an hour.

someone told me, theres no such thing as bad thoughts ..

How could you face Bradley now, knowing the explicit fantasies that had consumed your mind? Shaking off the feeling, you decided to head to the Hard Deck, hoping the lively atmosphere would distract you and help you regain your composure.

The bar was already bustling with your squadron mates when you arrived. Maverick, Phoenix, Bob, and Bradley were gathered around, engaged in animated conversations and laughter. You could see Hangman, Coyote, Payback and Fanboy playing a game of cards again. You approached the group, trying to appear casual, but you felt as guilty as sin, unable to meet Bradley's eyes.

You slid onto a stool at the bar, your gaze fixed on your drink. Phoenix noticed your uncharacteristic quietness and sidled up to you, concern etched on her face. "Hey, you okay?" she asked, her voice low enough that only you could hear.

You forced a smile, nodding slightly. "Yeah, just tired."

Phoenix studied you for a moment before a knowing look crossed her face. She leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "It's perfectly fine to have feelings, you know. There's no such thing as bad thoughts"

Your cheeks flushed, and you looked down, embarrassed at how transparent you seemed. Phoenix gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Seriously, just talk to him."

You glanced up, following Phoenix's gaze to where Bradley stood, laughing with Maverick. He looked over, his eyes locking onto yours, a hint of concern in his expression. Your heart skipped a beat, and you quickly looked away, the intensity of your earlier fantasies making it hard to think straight.

"Go on," Phoenix encouraged softly. "He cares about you. Just talk to him."

Taking a deep breath, you nodded. You knew she was right. Avoiding Bradley wouldn't solve anything, and the guilt and embarrassment would only fester if you didn't confront your feelings.

Mustering your courage, you stood up and made your way over to Bradley. He turned to you, his smile softening as you approached. "Hey," he said, his voice warm and inviting.

"Hey," you replied, trying to steady your racing heart. "Can we talk for a minute?"

Bradley's expression grew serious, and he nodded, leading you to a quieter corner of the bar. "What's on your mind?" he asked, his concern evident.

You hesitated, the words tangled in your throat. But the supportive look in his eyes gave you the strength to continue. "I... I've been thinking a lot about you," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "And it's been driving me a little crazy."

Bradley's eyebrows raised in surprise, but a slow smile spread across his face. "You have no idea how relieved I am to hear that," he said, his voice filled with warmth. "I've been thinking about you, too."

The weight of your earlier guilt began to lift, replaced by a sense of relief and excitement. "Really?" you asked, unable to hide the hopeful note in your voice.

"Really," he confirmed, his hand reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair from your face. "How about we get out of here and talk somewhere quieter?"

You nodded, your heart soaring as you followed him out of the bar. As you walked side by side, the tension and uncertainty melted away, replaced by the thrill of new possibilities and the promise of something real and meaningful.

my bedsheets are ablaze, I've screamed his name...

"rooster!fuck!” You screamed out, your toes curling beneath you as bradley continued to flick his tongue over your folds at a ridiculously fast pace.

The room was hot, both your bodies sweating in a tangled mess. Bradley pressed your body firmly down, whilst he kept your legs around his head - trapping him to the spot he desired so much. He kept your hips pressed down with one arm and the other was being used to pump his fingers, unforgivingly, into you. You weren’t able to focus on anything apart from the endless, relentless pleasure he was giving you.

Your fingers tugged against the soft waves of his hair, which made him moan and send vibrations all over your pussy and through your heat. The sounds that filled the room were unholy and wet and downright filthy.

His tongue persistently lapped at your folds, using his fingers to reach the spots inside of you that had you seeing heaven on earth. His tongue felt so good and his fingers even better.

But goddamn that moustache.

All you could feel was the tickle of prickly hair rubbing against your oh so sensitive clit, stroking it as he moved his face. His movements were so wild and quick that each time he moved let you feel his moustache. Each time he moved a different direction your pussy caught against the hairs and dragged against your skin, causing you to moan out in pleasure. Bradley knew exactly what he was doing. He was filthy and you absolutely loved it.

His fingers pumped harder, curling to reach your favourite and most sensitive spots and his tongue moved faster as you began to reach your high. It didn’t take much for him, with the moustache, to bring you to your release and rooster definitely got off on that. He loved when his moustache got coated in your juices and he could taste it hours later, where he hadn’t quite cleaned himself properly. It was tormenting in a way though, because one taste of you had him on his knees begging for more - he wouldn’t even care if you were beyond spent.

He pulled away to look up at you with endless adoration, and you felt his hot breath fan against your even hotter pussy. . He looked so lustful, eyes blown wide and dark. He was a different man right now - one on a mission to make you scream his name.

He kept straight eye contact with you as his moustache glistened with a coating of your juices, his eyes remained locked to yours as he ran his tongue over his lips and upper moustache hairs, tasting you without being face deep in you. You groaned at the sight, before deciding you wanted in on the action too.

Leaning up and forwards you smashed your lips on to his, moaning as you tasted yourself on his lips. It was divine. His bristly hairs tickled your upper lips and you hummed at the sensual sensation. He pulled away when he realised you were enjoying this too much, not wanting to distract himself, or you, from giving you the release you so deserved.

"You can kiss me senseless after i’ve devoured you, baby.” He kissed your lips once more and then pushed you back down and reattached himself to your soaking pussy. You cried out at the contact, not believing you ever thought you’d be able to go without the feeling. Nothing would ever compare to this. To him.

“Roo!" You moaned his name in pleasure and returned your hands to his hair, pushing him further into you.

His tongue moved inside of your folds in angles you never knew existed, making your toes curl and your tummy flutter with excitement. You felt your release so close. His fingers entered - one, two, three - and found the right pace to have you completely defenceless below him. You were his to toy and play with, that much Bradley knew. Like this, you were a bowl of jello in his arms, allowing him to tease and pleasure you how he’d like to - with the trust that you’d stop him if he went too far.

“You gonna come for me baby angel?” He rhetorically asked, knowing you were only a few more pumps away from your release.

“Yes, yes just for you.” You gasped as he quickened the pace of his fingers and designated his attention to your pulsing clit.

“Come on then. I won’t tell you twice.” The way the hairs of his moustache moved from his words against yourclit sent you over the edge.

The fucking moustache.

You arched your back and screamed out as he kept pumping his fingers through your release. You grasped onto your breast, needing something to release your frustration into. God you felt unholy and dirty. You felt fucking amazing. Your breathing was laboured and Bradley spent the rest of your high lapping your folds and around your cunt, drinking up every last drop of your release. He couldn’t get enough of you. He would never.

“Can you kiss me now?” You quietly asked and you felt his presence suddenly hover above you, his moustache absolutely covered with your juices. He wore them with pride. He raised his eyebrows at you, hovering just above your lips. “Please?” You stressed and who was he to deny that pouting face of yours. Who was he to deny you his moustache?

I choose you and me, religiously...

The restaurant was bathed in soft, ambient light, creating an atmosphere of elegance and romance. The clink of fine china and the murmur of quiet conversation provided a soothing backdrop as you sat across from Bradley at a candlelit table. The upscale, intimate setting was perfect, and you couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement and anticipation.

You were wearing a silky satin red dress that clung to your curves and shimmered in the candlelight. Bradley looked dashing in his tailored suit, his eyes never leaving you as he smiled warmly across the table. The evening had been a whirlwind of the finest food and wine, each course more exquisite than the last.

As the waiter poured another glass of rich, velvety wine, Bradley reached across the table, taking your hand in his. His touch was warm and reassuring, sending a thrill through you.

"You look stunning tonight," he said softly, his voice filled with admiration. "I can't take my eyes off you."

You blushed, the heat rising to your cheeks as you smiled at him. "Thank you. You look pretty amazing yourself."

The dinner continued with laughter and light conversation, but you could sense that Bradley had something on his mind. As the dessert was served—an indulgent chocolate fondant that melted in your mouth—he took a deep breath, his eyes locking onto yours with a seriousness that made your heart skip a beat.

"I've been thinking a lot about us," he began, his thumb gently caressing the back of your hand. "About how much you've come to mean to me."

Your heart raced, and you held your breath, waiting for him to continue.

"I never expected to fall this hard, this fast," he admitted, his voice filled with raw emotion. "But here I am, completely and utterly in love with you."

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you listened, your heart swelling with happiness.

"I choose you and me religiously," he said, his voice unwavering. "Every day, in every way, I choose us. Because with you, I've found something real, something worth holding on to."

You felt a tear slip down your cheek, and Bradley reached out, gently wiping it away with his thumb. His eyes were filled with love and sincerity, and you knew that this moment, this man, was everything you had ever dreamed of.

"I love you," you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. "I love you so much."

Bradley stood up, moving around the table to kneel beside you. He took both your hands in his, looking up at you with a smile that made your heart melt. "Then let's make a promise," he said, his voice steady and sure. "To always choose each other, no matter what."

You nodded, unable to find the words as your emotions overwhelmed you. He leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was both tender and passionate. It was a kiss that spoke of promises and a future filled with love.

As you pulled away, you looked into his eyes, seeing the same love and commitment reflected back at you. "I promise," you said softly, your voice filled with conviction.

Bradley smiled, his eyes shining with happiness. "Then let's toast to us," he said, raising his glass. "To love, to promises, and to choosing each other, always."

You clinked your glass against his, the sound a beautiful reminder of the bond you shared. As you sipped your wine, you felt a sense of peace and contentment settle over you. With Bradley by your side, you knew that you had found your perfect match, and you were ready to face whatever the future held, together.

what if i roll the stone away?

The squad had gathered at the hangar for a relaxed evening, the familiar scent of jet fuel and the hum of aircraft providing a comforting backdrop. Hangman, Bob, Coyote, Phoenix, Payback, and Fanboy were all there, sharing stories and laughter after a long day of training. You and Bradley were part of the group, but your mind was elsewhere, consumed by the secret you were carrying.

You and Bradley had been secretly dating for a while now. The relationship was a source of joy and excitement, but the thought of revealing it to the squad filled you with nervous anticipation. You worried about how it might change the dynamics within your tight-knit group. Yet, tonight felt different. A sense of determination had been building within you, and you knew it was time to share your happiness with your friends.

As the evening progressed, you laughed and chatted with the others, but your mind kept drifting to Bradley. He caught your eye several times, his reassuring smile giving you the strength you needed. You knew he was ready to support you, no matter what.

Finally, you decided it was time. You excused yourself, mentioning you needed to check something by your jet. The squad continued their conversation, but Bradley's eyes followed you, filled with a mix of curiosity and encouragement.

You walked towards the edge of the hangar, the cool night air calming your nerves. Before you disappeared, you turned back to face the group. Bradley stood up, sensing that something significant was about to happen.

With your heart pounding, you walked back to him, your determination solidifying with each step. The squad’s chatter quieted as they noticed your serious expression. You stopped in front of Bradley, taking a deep breath. Without a word, you leaned in and kissed him, a tender yet passionate kiss that conveyed all the love and connection you felt.

When you pulled back, you were met with a chorus of surprised exclamations.

"Whaaas?" Hangman exclaimed, his eyebrows shooting up in disbelief.

"No way!" Fanboy said, a grin spreading across his face.

"Well, I'll be damned," Coyote muttered, shaking his head with a smile.

Phoenix looked at you, her eyes wide with surprise but quickly turning into a warm, approving smile. Bob's mouth hung open, but he quickly composed himself, giving you a thumbs-up.

Payback just laughed, slapping Bradley on the back. "About time!"

Feeling a rush of relief and exhilaration, you looked around at your friends, their reactions a mixture of shock, amusement, and support. Bradley wrapped an arm around your shoulders, his smile beaming with pride.

"I guess the cat's out of the bag," he said, his voice filled with affection.

Phoenix stepped forward, giving you a hug. "I’m happy for you guys. Seriously, it’s about time you both found some happiness."

Hangman chuckled, shaking his head. "Well, this explains a lot. Congrats, you two."

As the initial surprise faded, the group quickly accepted the new dynamic. The conversation shifted to teasing and light-hearted jokes, but there was an undercurrent of genuine happiness and support for you and Bradley.

You felt a weight lift off your shoulders, the anxiety of keeping your relationship a secret melting away. With Bradley by your side and the unwavering support of your friends, you knew that everything would be okay.

Later, as you headed to check on your jet one last time, you glanced back at Bradley, who was watching you with a proud, loving expression. You blew him a kiss, feeling lighter and happier than you had in a long time.

a/n : i adored writing this!! i hope you enjoyed it as much as I did!! as always, comments likes reblogs feedback etc is always appreciated 🤍

TAGS

the tortured poets department: @ateezseonghwanot @khaylin27 @imgondeletedis @jj-ever-lovely-jewel @stylestastic

general : @roslastyles420 @hopefulinlove @bluesongbird-blog

TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST SEND ME AN ASK OR A DM SPECIFYING WHICH FANDOM 🤍

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bradshawsvinyl · 7 months

Text

Begin Again Part Two

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

Part One. Part Three.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Daddy,” Tara yelled while running to Bradley.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Happy to help! See you tomorrow.

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

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

-Willow 🩷

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beyondthesefourwalls · 9 months

Text

Something Worth Remembering

Summary: You were hopeful that you’d be moved into your new house before Christmas, but after another renovation delay, that’s not in the cards. To your credit, you make the most of the situation, and Bradley falls in love with you even more because of it. But he’s determined to make your first Christmas together special, and sets out to plan a surprise that ensures the holiday will be one both of you will always remember.

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

(can be read as Forgetful Boy and Pumpkin from RYEWID, but not necessary to read that first)

Word Count: 3.7K

Warnings: Warm fuzzy Hallmark feelings. Language. Allusions to smut.

Notes: Some holiday action for my faves. Written for @bellaireland1981's Winter RomCom Challenge with the prompt "home for the holidays”. Also as part of The Forgotten Moments Collection, but can very much be read by itself.

—---

____

Bradley stopped short when he walked through the front door, eyes widening as he took in the scene in front of him.

“Um…Pumpkin?”

“You’re home!”

You popped up so suddenly from the other side of the counter in the kitchen that he jumped slightly in surprise. “Am I?” he asked slowly, closing the door behind him and bending down to unlace and take off his boots. You laughed brightly as you stepped around some of the shopping bags on the floor to get to him. He accepted the kiss from you eagerly, feeling the stress from another work day dissipate as he wrapped his arms around you.

“Contractors called,” you told him once you pulled back, resting a hand on his chest. Your ring sparkled in the light streaming in through the open curtains, and Bradley couldn’t help but smile before he registered the words. “There’s a delay with the electrician and the flooring.”

Bradley groaned, the familiar annoyance of hearing the word “delay” coursing through him. The home the two of you had purchased was a fixer upper, tucked into the end of a cul de sac in a neighborhood not too far from base. There was work that needed to be done to make it everything you wanted, but neither of you had anticipated all the headaches that would come along with that. It would be a long project, you knew, but the contractor you had hired had promised it would at least be livable within the first few weeks.

That had been nearly two months ago now, and the delays kept piling up. Barely anything had been done at this point, and he knew he’d have to call the administrative office tomorrow to extend the lease on the on-base apartment, again.

“Of course there is.”

You smiled gently, and Bradley couldn’t help but let some of the annoyance slip away at the soft look on your face. He took a deep breath and let himself relax, pressing a kiss to your forehead before releasing you. He gestured to the tiny apartment the Navy had provided you with, smaller than the shoebox you had called home back in DC, that definitely did not look like what it did when he left for work this morning.

“Is that why it suddenly looks like Christmas threw up in here?”

You threw your head back as you giggled. The sound caused a full blown smile to cross Bradley’s face, warming him from the inside out.

“I was holding out hope that we would be able to spend Christmas in our new house, even if it’s not finished. But since the electrician’s are delayed, the floor people can’t come until the 28th. So I decided to finally cave and decorate here instead. But I didn’t want to spend a bunch of money on nice decorations, because I want to save that for when we’re completely moved in next year.”

“So…”

“So I may or may not have bought out a good portion of the Dollar Tree Christmas aisle, and spent way too long deciding on white lights or multicolored lights for the $20 table top tree that I bought.”

Bradley laughed loudly, looking around your temporary home once again. Red and green and gold covered the minimal available surfaces, and a small lopsided tree sat on the corner table in the living room, a bag of what he assumed to be decorations sitting beside it. Your cat, Florry, was curled up on top of a pile of bright green garland on the floor.

"Who needs a fancy new house when we can have our own little tacky winter wonderland right here?"

Your eyes sparkled with delight as you spoke, clearly thrilled by the idea, or at least incredibly amused by it. Bradley knew that Christmas was your favorite holiday, and how much you loved the festive season. This would be the first one you ever spent together. When you had toured the house months ago, you had pointed out the perfect place for a tree and where certain decorations could go. You had been so excited to spend the holiday in your new home. As the delays started coming in you had adjusted just how grandiose your plans would be, but you had taken it in stride. Now you were only six days out from Christmas itself and you were once again just making the best of the situation that neither of you could control.

Not for the first time, he wondered how he had gotten so lucky.

"Alright, Pumpkin," he said, "Let me go change, and then I’ll help you make this the tackiest, most magical Christmas ever."

You grinned at him, a mischievous spark in your eyes. "Challenge accepted."

_____

The Dagger Squad had an impromptu and unofficial holiday party the next night at the Hard Deck, and it still blew Bradley away seeing you intermixed so perfectly with his friends, both old and new. You floated from conversation to conversation and when he wasn’t by your side, he watched you with a smile on his face. He knew you were perfect for him, but seeing you fitting in like this just reaffirmed it.

“How’s the house coming along?”

He looked over at Mav as he leant against the bar beside him, handing him a fresh beer. He was still getting used to being around his godfather after all this time, but they had settled into a peaceful kind of hesitancy as they relearned what it meant to be in the other’s life, and it was nice, even if Bradley had to remind himself to breathe sometimes.

“Slowly.”

His tone must have relayed how he was feeling because Mav shot him a sympathetic wince. “Another delay?”

“Yup.” Bradley let out a frustrated sigh as he ran a hand through his hair. “They can’t get the electricians in until tomorrow, which is when the flooring was supposed to go in. So now that got pushed to after Christmas”

Mav clasped a hand on Bradley's shoulder, offering a supportive squeeze. "It'll all come together eventually. How’s she taking it?”

He snorted as he brought the drink to his lips, taking another sip. “She handles stress and shit like this better than anyone I know.”

Mav smiled, nodding in what looked like approval. “You got yourself a good one.”

Bradley hummed his agreement and let his eyes stray to you, chuckling softly when he saw you dancing with Nat. Sometime in the last few minutes, you had stolen the Santa hat that Coyote had arrived with, the red and white material perched on your head. You twirled around with his best friend to the Christmas song playing over the jukebox, laughing merrily. You really did love this time of year.

You had told him that you didn’t care where you spent the holiday, so long as you were together. It was your first Christmas together, after all. But Bradley still felt guilty over not being able to get you into the house sooner. You had only been married for a few months, and you had given up your whole entire life to move out to California when he got permanently assigned here. It’s a decision you would make again and again, he knew, but he still wished there was something he could do, too. You had made far more sacrifices than he had. He wanted this holiday to be special. Memorable.

You were just a little bit tipsy when you got back to the apartment that night. You had clung to Bradley’s arm with both of yours the whole way up to the third floor from the parking lot, but the moment you walk through the door, you’re releasing him to go plug in the tiny table top tree. You plug in the string lights lining the kitchen counters next, humming a christmas song he can’t quite place under your breath as you do. You turned to him once the space was illuminated, the soft golden glow highlighting your smile.

“Pretty nice, huh? These cheap decorations aren’t so bad - I may just keep them for the new house, too.”

Your ability to make the most of everything made his heart stutter. He was in front of you in only three quick strides, one hand landing on your hip while the other cupped your face. He bent to connect your lips in a kiss. He could still taste the peppermint from the candy cane you sucked on on the ride home, and the taste of the champagne Penny had broken out at the end of the night for a toast. You didn’t hesitate to wrap your arms around him and return the kiss, both of you getting so lost in it that by the time he pulled away, he was panting.

“You must really like the cheap decor,” you breathed, and Bradley huffed out a laugh at your joke.

“I just really like you,” he quipped, and he enjoyed how a shiver went through your body at his response.

As you changed into pajamas and settled on the couch together, an idea started forming in his head. He thought he might know just what to do to make this holiday memorable for you after all.

_____

“Are you sure you don’t mind me running out for a bit?” you asked for what was probably the tenth time as you slid your sweater on over your head. Bradley groaned to himself as your body was covered from his view as he lounged in bed. He had been watching you get ready, enjoying not for the first time how getting dressed was almost always the last step in your process.

“I’m positive,” he said, also for the tenth time. You gave him a dubious look and he couldn’t help but laugh. “Pumpkin, I promise it’s okay.”

“I know, but it’s our first Christmas Eve together!”

Bradley moved so he was sitting on the edge of the bed, holding his arms open. You stepped between his spread legs and let your hands rest on his shoulders as he looked up at you, squeezing your sides through your red sweater. “Technically, it’s Christmas Eve morning. And I think you getting brunch with Nat and Coyote’s wife will be nice for you. You’ve been so busy with work and the move that you haven’t really had time to make friends.”

“I was already friends with Nat.”

He rolled his eyes at you fondly. “You know what I mean.”

You sighed again, fingers playing with the hair on the back of his head in the way that always calmed him down, even when he wasn’t feeling stressed out. He thought maybe the motion soothed you, too. “I think it’ll be fun.”

“Yeah,” you admitted slowly, nodding hesitantly. “I do too.”

“Then go. Have fun. I’ll be here when you get back, and we’ll spend Christmas Eve together. The morning doesn’t count.”

You snorted, but nodded nonetheless. He accepted the kiss you gave him right as your phone started ringing from the bedside table. Nat was there to pick you up, just like he had requested her to when he asked for her help with pulling off this surprise by getting you out of the apartment for a few hours today.

He gave it ten minutes after you had left before he jumped up and started taking down all of the decorations you had strewn throughout the apartment. It was easy work considering how small the place was, only taking him a few trips to and from the Bronco. He grabbed the small tree last, carrying it delicately so that none of the ornaments fell off and wouldn’t have to be reconstructed.

It didn’t take too long to get to the house at the end of the cul de sac that was now in both of your names, traffic light despite the holiday. He let himself in with the key that was still shiny with how new it was. He let out a sigh of relief when he flipped the switch and the overhead light in the living room actually turned on - with everything that had gone on, he wouldn’t have been all that surprised if it hadn’t. He made quick work of bringing in everything from the car, including the items that he had purchased and kept in the trunk without you seeing them this week.

He knew he had limited time, as Nat could only commit to a few hours of keeping you distracted, but it would be more than enough with what he needed to do. His phone buzzed right as he was finishing up a little more than an hour later, your name flashing up at him.

Pumpkin🧡: Getting the check! Back soon❤️

He sent back a response telling you he’d see you soon, quickly finishing up. He locked the door behind him and jogged to the Bronco parked in the driveway, and he was only back at the apartment for less than 10 minutes when you walked in the door with a large smile on your face that quickly morphed into horrified confusion.

“What happened to our decorations?”

“Hey, Pumpkin. How was brunch?”

“Were we robbed?”

Bradley barked out a laugh, shaking his head at your wide eyes. “Of our dollar tree Christmas decorations?”

You just gestured wildly around the space, devoid of any hint of the holiday cheer that had existed in its space earlier in the day. He laughed again, closing the distance to where you stood at the still open front door. He reached around you to push it closed before pulling you into him. He kissed your forehead, your nose, and then finally your lips, pursued in an adorable pout. “We weren’t robbed,” he assured you. “But I do have a present for you. Go get changed.”

“What?”

He squeezed your hips, smiling warmly. “Trust me?”

You eyed him closely for a moment before your pout eventually settled into a soft grin, and you let out a long sigh before you nodded. “Always.”

He kissed you again, a little deeper this time, but pulled away before he could get totally lost in it. “Pajamas are on the bed.”

“Pajamas? It’s 2pm!”

He only chuckled in response, playfully smacking your butt when you started walking back toward the bedroom. “Trust me.”

You got even more suspicious when you emerged from the bedroom and saw that he had Florry in her carrier at the door and had changed into his own pajamas. He twirled his keys around his fingers and then held open the door for you. Once you were in the Bronco, cat meowing at your feet, he held out a red silk piece of cloth that made your eyebrows shoot up.

“Seriously? A blindfold?”

“Think of it like a Christmas adventure. Now let me put it on.”

You huffed a breath but he knew you weren't actually mad - you loved surprises, and there was a smile tugging at your lips as you turned to allow him to tie the silk at the back of your head. He kissed your hair when he was done and turned to start the vehicle.

“You know,” you said casually, just as Bradley was pulling out of the parking lot, “this blindfold might come in handy later. We should make sure the headboard we pick out has appropriate accommodations.”

He groaned at the implication, a flush creeping up his neck on instinct. You giggled happily, knowing the effect you had on him. He rested a hand on your thigh as he drove, yours covering his in a familiar move. The feeling of your ring on his skin was one he had grown to love in the last few months since you’ve gotten married.

You threw out guesses the entire drive over, each one more extravagant and ludicrous than the one before. By the time he pulled into the driveway that one day will be an everyday occurrence, he was grinning so hard that his cheeks were starting to hurt.

“Don’t move,” he said when he saw you reach for the door handle. He jogged around the Bronco to the passenger side, opening your door. He helped you down before reaching back in for Florry’s carrier, pressing it into your hands so you could carry her, while he focused on you.

"Alright, Pumpkin," he whispered, his voice laced with eagerness. "Keep your blindfold on, and I'll guide you." His hand tightened around yours as he led you out of the car and towards the front door of your new home. Excitement coursed through him as he thought about your reaction, and he loved that he knew instinctively that it would be positive.

He loved that he knew you so well.

“Stay here just a second,” he instructed once he got you through the door. He moved away from you to quickly plug everything in, coming back to you once the room was cast both in the sunlight streaming through the windows and the artificial LED lights.

He stood in front of you, a grin playing on his lips as he watched you fidget with anticipation. Your blindfold was still securely in place, blocking your vision from the surprise he had prepared. You were so damn beautiful, and he would never understand how he got lucky enough to call himself yours.

"Okay, baby," he said softly. He gently took the carrier out of your hands, setting it on the floor and letting the cat out to wander the new space that he had cleared of anything that might hurt her, before moving to stand behind you. Your back flush against his front, he moved his hands up your arms in a smooth caress, settling on your shoulders and squeezing in affection. "You can take off the blindfold now."

With trembling hands, you reached up and slipped the silk cloth from your eyes, revealing the scene before you. Gasping in awe, your eyes widened as you took in the sight that unfolded in the living room.

“Oh my God. Bradley.”

The room was still very much a construction zone, but he had moved all of the decorations from the apartment, plus a few more that he had gotten, to decorate the barren space. The tree you had bought sat on the floor in the corner. Blankets lined the unfinished floors, as well as humongous cotton puffs to replicate snow. An air mattress covered with bright red sheets and a green blanket was in the middle of the room. Everything looked straight out of a tacky high school Christmas play, but it was so bad that it was almost good - whimsical and unique.

He watched as you took it all in, feeling his heart beating double time in his chest. When you turned to face him, there was a wide smile on your face, and tears shining in your pretty eyes. You didn’t have to ask for him to know what you were thinking.

“I wanted our first Christmas together to be in our home, even if it’s not finished yet. I figured we could camp out for the day. You-” The words were knocked out of him as you launched yourself into his arms. He held you for a long moment, pressing a kiss into your hair as your laughter settled. “You deserve something special, Pumpkin,” he finally finished, voice softer than it had been.

You pulled back just far enough to meet his eyes, your hands cupping his face. “All I need is you, baby. You know that?”

He turned his head just slightly to press a kiss into your palm, nodding once. “I do.” A smirk twitched at his lips, his mustache twitching with the expression. “Does that mean you want me to pack all this up and return your gifts, too?”

The gasp you let out was damn near scandalized. "Oh, no you don't!" you playfully swatted at his chest. You motioned toward the tacky decorations with a mischievous grin. "We can't let these go to waste. It's our first Christmas, after all."

Bradley chuckled, arms secure around you. "It sure is," he whispered, his voice filled with affection. He leaned down to capture your lips in a sweet kiss, the taste of anticipation lingering.

“Besides,” you murmured quietly, your eyes sparkling with a familiar look that had him warming from the inside out. “This gives us a jump start on christening the place. That air mattress looks mighty comfortable.”

Desire flared through him, and he wasted no time in scooping you up in his arms, carrying you bridal-style towards the makeshift bed. Your laughter echoed in the space as he laid you down.

“You know I’m gonna make you pack all of this back up and put it back up in the apartment until at least New Years, right?” you asked him, slightly breathless as he moved his kisses from your lips down to your neck, nipping at the skin.

Bradley chuckled, his hands pushing your shirt up, revealing soft skin that he loved to touch. “Oh, of that I have no doubt.”

Later, you lay nestled together underneath the green blanket, the crackling sound of a virtual fireplace playing from his laptop on the floor beside you while Christmas music played lightly from your phone. You were basking in the glow of the makeshift display as your breathing calmed. You pressed a kiss to his chest, right over his beating heart. He was sure that it skipped a beat at the gesture, but if you noticed, you didn’t comment on it.

“I can’t wait until we’re in here for good,” you whispered instead.

He hummed in response, tracing lazy patterns on your bare back. “Me too.”

You snorted after another moment, propping your head up to meet his eyes. “Hell of a first memory to make here, don’t you think?”

Bradley laughed lightly, a contented smile spreading across his face. It certainly was, in all of the best ways. “I’ll remember this forever,” he said, voice filled with warmth and conviction, because he couldn’t fathom ever forgetting any moment with you, especially something as perfect as this.

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

Main Masterlist :: The Forgotten Moments Masterlist

Notes: It's been far too long since I wrote anything for these two. I hope you enjoyed it! Likes/comments/reblogs are always appreciated if you did🧡

Thanks to @roosterforme and @mak-32 for all their help!

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

@mssleepy876b @kassieesworld @mizzzpink @a-serene-place-to-be @sexualparkour @sadpetalsstuff @almostgenerallyalways @alilstressyandlotdepressy @ccbb2222 @taytaylala12 @shelbycillian @mavrellover91 @vici111 @lunamooncole @blackwidownat2814 @pisupsala @bellaireland1981 @jynxmirage

@greatszu @na-ta-sh-aa @callsign-magnolia @chaoticassidy @thedroneranger @cherrycola27

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glossgojo · 1 year

Text

picture perfect guy

rooster x afab!reader | 2.5k words

summary: it’s not like you ever forget your boyfriend is strong but seeing it so blatantly displayed makes you dizzy

cw: 18+ MDNI, smut, strength kink (?), sweat kink (if u squint), size kink, man-handling, no protection don’t be like them, p in v sex, reader is down bad, secret relationship, big dick rooster, he’s just big in general, shorter reader, reader works in the navy, lowkey power dynamics where reader is higher up, rank kink, pet names (girl, baby, etc), fuck the army in more ways than one

you heard what happened in the simulation, working at top gun meant that the pilot training was of utmost importance. no one knew about your relationship and you wanted to keep it that way until the mission ended.

you made your way to the tarmac, wanting to see your boyfriend and your friends doing their punishment. in fairness as maverick’s right hand you had valid reason to make sure they did as told. your boots hitting the sweltering pavement as you made out your boyfriend doing push ups. you were sure his hands were burning up and his body was screaming from exhaustion, you grew closer seeing hondo watching them. you did your best to pay equal attention to phoenix and bob but failed completely as you heard rooster grunting. sweat beaded down his forehead and his skin shined under the sun, a sheen of perspiration on his muscular arms. you swallowed down hard, tearing your gaze from him as you looked to hondo for a count, he looked at you with a wry look and yelled out, “150.”

“i can take over, it’s hot as hell out here.” you elbowed him, he shot you a smile before counting once more and giving you an appreciative nod of the head. your eyes quickly returned to rooster. he grunted once more, moving up and down only looking up when you yelled out the next number. his furrowed brows and glare dissipated like a lovestruck puppy as he met your eyes, you shook your head to dissuade him, to try and make his response less obvious. luckily you turned to find hondo already walking away. bob and phoenix were too busy fighting the ache in their arms to notice or care. it wasn’t like you were the best actors in the world, hangman made countless jokes at the expense of both of you until you reminded him of your rank. you continued counting not missing how bradley’s eyes never seemed to leave you. he was sneaking glances as much as he could, even craning his head as you walked towards bob when you noticed him slacking off. “eyes forward rooster,” you didn’t have to look at him to see his eyes squarely planted on your ass.

you knew your boyfriend was strong, but times like this reminded you just how strong. your rooster, your bradley was mostly gentle with you. when you first started dating you had no idea just how his training affected him, even saying that you were too heavy to sit on his lap. you still remember his slightly offended expression as he tugged you onto his lap and said, “baby i could bench two of you, are you trying to hurt my feelings?” his words, just like they did the first time he said it, made your stomach drop and your thighs squeeze together. you wanted him so badly, wanted him to break you. you knew you were being unfair, the man was 165 push-ups deep in the sweltering california heat. it didn’t stop your greedy eyes from raking over his frame once again, his back muscles bulging through his black shirt as he strained them. you felt your heartbeat pick up and move south. this was torture, for all parties involved. you unbuttoned a few buttons of your uniform, it was lower than you’d usually wear in the base but the only person who had their eyes on you was bradley. the remaining push-ups went as well as they could’ve, all three lieutenants struggling against their bodies grunting and groaning as they struggled through. when it was finally over bob collapsed to the ground, welcoming the hot pavement against his skin. phoenix and rooster shakily stood. you told them both good work, offering bob a hand up which he refused. “just need to catch my breath.” you nodded and threw him a water bottle from the cooler nearby. rooster and phoenix helped themselves to the drinks. phoenix said something about needing to wash up which you nodded dumbly at not really listening when your stupidly handsome boyfriend was drinking down water like his life depended on it, water dribbling down his chin. your eyes tracked the drops as they ran down his neck and under his shirt, you so badly wanted to lick them off, feel the cool liquid against your lips but most importantly feel skin on yours. you felt an inexplicable urge to just lick him clean, you’d blame it on the heat. your entire body burned with a need for him, to taste him to drink him in, to have him. bradley groaned as he finished off his bottle, your mouth slightly agape when he caught your stare and wiped his chin with the back of his hand. his eyes flashed from confusion to all knowing, he could practically feel the desire radiating off you.

“lieutenant bradshaw, are you done for the day?” you should’ve known the answer, he was under your jurisdiction after all, but your mind couldn’t recall anything about today besides his arms and back. bradley licked his lips, feeling himself grow half-hard at the use of his rank. his breath was shallow as he spoke next.

“i’ll be leaving in 15 minutes after i shower.” his eyes flick down to your opened collar you’d forgotten about that until his wide brown eyes seemed to get wider at the sight. you buttoned up, noticing the small pout to his lips. it truly was a miracle the entire base didn’t know due to how obvious your boyfriend was.

“what a coincidence so will i.” you said, shooting him a small smile before heading off towards the base. you heard him running up to your side, following you back inside.

15 minutes later exactly, you found bradley waiting for you next to his truck. he opened the door for you and you put your hand over his as you entered. you both agreed after almost being caught in your office not to do anything physical on the base. that meant as soon as you were off the base, his hand slid onto your bare thigh, you’d changed into a sundress just like he changed into shorts and his usual hawaiian shirt. you were already so desperate for him, his rough large hand covered your thigh and you squirmed in your seat. the drive to bradley and your’s place felt longer than usual, neither of you breaking the silence. after what felt like years you both entered your home, tugging bradley to you by his shirt, your lips finding his as you leaned up onto your toes. he gasped into your mouth, his mustache tickling against you, his arms encircled your waist and you moaned at the feeling. his arms had driven you insane all day and now they were squeezing you like you were nothing. bradley pulled back at the noise, shocked at how you were so gone from a kiss alone, not knowing your train of thought. you leaned back, moving your arms from around his neck to touch his arms, you trailed them up and down feeling the muscle there as bradley watched you, slowly piecing the puzzle together.

“is my girl all worked up from watching me work-out?” his voice was hushed, heavy with want and you felt heat surge between your thighs as he aptly deduced what had you so dizzy.

“you’re so strong, so big, God bradley.” your hands trailed up his arms, to the broadness of his shoulders, traveled to his back to feel the raw power there too. bradley couldn’t help but let that comment get to head as he took in your dazed expression and smirked. at times like this he wondered how he got so lucky. he pulled you closer, his arms tightening around your waist as your chest pressed against his. he could feel all of you now, you could feel his hard-on against your stomach. you looked up at his eyes, finally tearing them away from his body. you whimpered as he lifted you clean off the floor, not even flinching or breaking eye contact. you were a doll in his hold, propped up so he could get a good look at you, finally eye level with him. your breathing got shallower, and bradley had confirmed all he needed to know, hauling you over his shoulder and carrying you to the bedroom.

bradley easily threw you on the bed, stealing the air from your lungs as you crawled up the bed. he pulled his shirt off, his tank to go next, only his dog tags against his bare toned chest. your cheeks flushed as his gaze met yours, his eyes dark with lust, pupils blown wide surrounded by hazel. you were sure you weren’t any different. “pretty, always so fucking pretty.” he murmured, in a daze just like you, wrapping a hand on your ankle and pulling you towards him, at the edge of your bed. his strength, the way he easily threw you around, made your thighs clench and bradley didn’t miss it this time. smirking as he hovered over you, pulling you by the back of your head to kiss him. he pulled back only to kiss your neck, then your collarbone, before he was pushing your sleeve down, ripping the seam in the process, making you hiss. too fucking strong and too fucking desperate for you, you were choking back a moan but didn’t want to egg him on.

“roo! i like this dress.” you gasped as he continued to kiss you, unwavered by your torn sleeve. you half wondered if you could sew it up, your thought being cut off when his teeth scraped against the top of your breast.

“i’ll buy you a new one doll.” you whined in response as he pulled the front of your dress down, cupping your breasts over your bra. you pushed at his chest, not even moving him but he moved back as you pulled the dress over your head. he quickly unclasped your bra and his kisses turned to bites, one hand kneading one breast as the other teased your nipple. his lips bit and sucked at each nipple, blowing air on it to make it even more sensitive. meanwhile you were bucking under his hold, begging for more, begging for him to touch you.

“please bradley, please,” your pleas were falling on dead ears as he sucked and pinned you down. you had to pull out the big guns. “please lieutenant bradshaw touch me.” his eyes snapped back to your face, his teeth dragging off your tender nipple.

“i’m touching you now.” his hands were circling your waist, keeping you in place. his tone was teasing, he knew what you needed but he wanted you to beg.

“please just fuck me.” and that’s all it took, bradley never was one for dragging things out. you both were already aching for each other. he lifted you up and instead of pushing you further up, he was lifting you clean off the bed, to stand. you legs wrapped around his waist and his hands lifted you up by the underside of your thighs. you looked at him to try and understand what he was doing until one hand left your thigh and you heard his fly unzip. he was gonna fuck you while standing, while supporting your entire weight. you were sure you had soaked through your underwear, bradley would know anyways since his member was freed and poking against your clothed entrance. bradley pushed your underwear to the side, it made you feel even filthier than you did now. bradley cursed under his breath, rubbing his head against you, collecting the slick there and coating his member with it. you whined and twitched as his tip caught against your clit. you’d start dripping on your hardwood floor if he didn’t fuck you already.

“ready baby?” you nodded enthusiastically with hooded eyes, one of your hands playing with his chain as he pushed the tip in. you gasped at the stretch, no matter how many times he fucked you, you’d never get used to how fucking big he was. he stretched you wide and filled you all the way up. he slowly pushed in, letting you adjust like always. you pressed a kiss to his lips as you looked down with a slight nod for him to move.

maybe you shouldn’t have made your newfound affinity for his strength so blatant, because bradley lifted you up and plunged you back down so viciously you saw stars. his tip bruised your cervix and you swear you could feel the veins on his cock stamp your walls. you were clenching around him, the sounds of your slick pouring out of you and the slap of skin against skin filled the room making your head spin. bradley never let up his pace, his breathing growing shallow as he used like a sex toy. “fuck bradley, s-so deep.” you whined out, leaning your forehead against his. you felt his was wet with sweat and you clenched at the memory of him from earlier today. you watched a bead of sweat roll down the side of his head and this time you caught it with your tongue. bradley lost any self control he was holding onto at that.

“you’re killing me baby.” his pace grew brutal, turning you into a babbling mess as he began thrusting up while still hammering you on his cock. you grabbed onto his hair, grabbed his arms his shoulders, dug your nails into his back and clawed, anything you could do to ground yourself. nothing stopped the earth-shattering pleasure from washing over you in waves. everything felt sensitive, your nipples erect as they ground against him from every thrust. you felt yourself close and you knew bradley was too, could feel him tensing up under you. with one final thrust, he came inside filling you past the brim, his cum mixed with yours leaking out the side. you came with him, twitching in his hold as he fucked you both through it, milking him for all he had. he never moved you off as he walked you both to bed, lying you down, spooning you from behind. the angle let him stay inside, not letting anything leak, just like you both liked.

“so the push-ups huh?” bradley whispered against the shell of your ear, pulling your underwear off finally and hugging you closer. his dick going even deeper.

“uh huh, you looked too damn good lieutenant.” at the mention of his rank, you felt his dick twitch and you couldn’t stop the giggle from escaping your lips. you both were insatiable. it wasn’t long before you were worked up again, bradley filling you up and proving just how strong he was all over again.

a/n: possibly my filthiest one-shot to date? that can easily be beaten but something about sweaty bradley bradshaw makes me FERAL…. i will not be taking questions ab it <3

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

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mynameismckenziemae · 2 months

Text

I Love You Two

Part 1

(next part here)

Bradley Bradshaw x OFC x Jake Seresin.

Summary:

You (Olivia ‘Liv’ Kazansky) have been chasing Bradley Bradshaw as soon as you learned to walk. He follows his dad’s footsteps and joins the Navy after high school, and you move across the country for college a few years later at 18.

10 years pass but you never forget that brown-eyed boy…maybe that’s why yet another relationship fails. The friendship with Bradley is easily rekindled when you move back home, along with the feelings you’ve tried to suppress. It seems he feels the same about you after an incredible, life-changing night together. But he’s gone the next morning, without a word or even a note, leaving you heartbroken and humiliated.

A few months later, a green-eyed aviator defends your honor from a drunk patron while you’re bartending. To show your thanks, you buy him a drink that leads to a month-long fling, and a plan to pursue more when he gets back from his deployment.

After returning from a rough deployment of his own, Bradley’s determined to find you as soon as his feet touch dry land. Undeterred when you ignore his phone calls and leave his texts on read, he heads to the Hard Deck, hoping you’re there or that Penny will take pity on him. He’s spent countless nights beating himself up for leaving you the way he did and nothing will stop him from telling you how he really feels before he begs for your forgiveness and another chance.

But he finds you in the arms of the man who’s made the last 3 months of his life a living hell.

.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.

This is going to be a love triangle, why choose, enemies to lovers, repressed bisexuality, polyamorous angsty story. Please let me know if you have any questions and if you’d like to be added to the taglist.

Like everything else I write/post/reblog, this is not intended for anyone under the age of 18. It will contain adult language, themes, and situations. MDNI!

Warnings: Angst, adult language, smut.

.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.

A feeling of nostalgia has your hand pausing as you reach for the picture sitting on your dresser.

The 3-year-old version of yourself is grinning up at 6-year-old Bradley who’s sticking his tongue out to make you laugh. Even back then it was obvious you thought he hung the moon.

Bradley had always been so good to you; letting you tag along with his friends to play baseball, wiping your tears in middle school when you’d gotten teased for your braces, punching your wasted boyfriend for getting too handsy after prom. He wrote to you when he joined the Navy after he graduated, and let you crash at his shitty apartment when you were in college when he was stationed in Pensacola for spring break.

You were good to him too; you helped him pick out flowers for his crush for Valentine’s Day (even though it broke your heart), gave him your shoulder to cry on at his mom’s funeral, and bought him a pink, purple and blue pride flag when he came out to you as bisexual.

The two of you drifted apart when he got into a serious relationship, and not long after you did too.

Both relationships ended, he stayed single and you tried again, but it didn’t last either. You found yourself missing home. Missing Bradley.

The two of you picked up where you had left off when you moved home, like you’d never been apart. Your dormant feelings for him came back too, more intensely than ever. You started to suspect he felt the same; his once innocent touches now held intent, and you caught the heat in his gaze when his brown eyes lingered.

The simmering tension reached the boiling point the night before he deployed. One too many drinks at the Hard Deck gave you the courage to tell him how you felt; that you were in love with him.

Cold nauseating dread crept in at his silence from your admission. But then he kissed you. And didn’t stop.

A shiver dances down your spine at the memory of that night together; the way he pulled orgasm after orgasm from you with his mouth, hands, and cock, knowing your body like a longtime lover. You’d fallen asleep with a smile on your face, wrapped in his arms as the sunlight began to creep in through your bedroom windows.

A few hours later, you woke up cold and alone.

You hurried out of bed to see if he was in the kitchen or at least left a note. But the Bronco was gone and no note in sight. No new texts or missed calls when you’d found your phone. You’d fallen to the floor with a sob, heart-shattering when you’d dialed his number and went straight to voicemail.

When he didn’t reach out and avoided the Hard Deck when he came home for leave, you’d lost all hope.

.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.

You blink back the tears threatening to spill over now as you return to the present.

Taking a deep breath, you toss the framed photo into the box containing the rest of the things he gave you or reminded you of him before shoving it under your bed.

Next, you put on a set of clean sheets, you can’t help but picture how you’re going to dirty them with Jake.

He’s due back from his own deployment any day now and you couldn’t wait to have him over for the first time. During your month-long fling, you’d preferred his apartment as the heartbreak from Bradley had been too fresh and you hadn’t been ready to welcome another man into your home yet.

Jake unintentionally snuck through the walls you constructed around your heart a few months after you’d given up on Bradley.

While bartending, a drunk patron had started to get handsy. You’d noticed Jake watching, but you had it handled; brushing it off at first and then getting stern. When the drunk cornered you in the hallway, you got scared. But Jake had stepped in with his southern drawl and escorted him (none too gently) outside. You’re not sure what Jake said, but the color drained from the drunk’s face, and hasn’t been back since.

You had a cold beer waiting on the bar for him when he came back inside, shaking your head when he pulled out his wallet. So he claimed a stool at the end of the bar instead and proceeded to chat you up all night.

Like a moth to a flame, you were drawn to him; he was so easy on the eyes, a cocky- sarcastic-yet-somehow-still-charming-asshole. And he made you laugh, really laugh for the first time since Bradley broke your heart.

After the last call, he laid you down on the pool table and knelt on the beer-sticky floor to eat you out. The wrecked groan he let out when you pulled his hair had your toes curling and sent you spiraling. He too, because when you pulled him up with an order to fuck you, he mumbled an embarrassed, “Give me 5 minutes and I will,” before kissing you and doing just that.

The following weeks were the same; frenzied, hot, unable to keep your hands off the other. But during the times the two of you had to come up for air, you started falling for him.

You’d expected the worst when he asked to see you the night before he was scheduled to deploy for 3 months. But instead of another heartache, he asked not only to continue things when he returns but to make it official.

He’s called you every chance he got; which wasn’t many but you cherished each one. He didn’t talk much about life on the carrier besides complaining about a jerk in his new squadron but never elaborated, preferring to listen to you in the limited time he was granted.

The ping of an incoming text pulls you from your thoughts.

Penny: Have I told you lately that I love you?

Liv: 😑 Who called in?

Penny: Jimmy

Liv: I’ll be there at 4

Penny: You really are the best kiddo. Thank you.

Liv: You owe me 😘

With a sigh, you finish making your bed and get in the shower.

.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.

There are a few more texts when you get out of the shower and your heart speeds up when you see it’s from Jake.

Jake: Hey sweetheart

Jake: Just found out I’ll be stateside soon

Jake: I can’t wait to see you

Liv: I can’t wait to see you either, but I’m helping Penny out tonight until 10, Jimmy called out.

Jake: Goddamn it, Jimmy.

Liv: Right? You can always visit me too.

Jake: I’ll be there. Did you hear anything about that job?

Liv: I can’t believe you remembered. I got it! Orientation starts in a few weeks.

Jake: Congratulations! I’m thinking we should celebrate?

Liv: Thank you 😘 what are you thinking?

Jake: My head between your thighs to start.

Liv: I like the way you think.

Jake: I’ve gotta go, but I’ll see you soon.

Liv: Can’t wait.

Jake: Me either

You feel like you’re on cloud nine as you get ready, spending a little extra time on your hair and makeup in anticipation of seeing him.

.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.

Your phone rings on your way to the bar and the onslaught of emotions makes your stomach turn at the name on the screen.

Bradley.

You ignore the longing, hurt, anger, humiliation, and unfortunately excitement as you do the same to the call, letting it go to voicemail.

The feelings intensify when he calls again a moment later, but you refuse to do this with him.

Not now. Not ever.

Too little, too late.

He starts texting as you park around the back of the building.

Bradley: Call me when you get a chance.

Bradley: Please?

Bradley: We need to talk.

Bradley: I’m so sorry, I’ll explain everything. Bradley: Just call me back. Please, Liv. Or tell me where you are.

A smile pulls at your lips as you silence your phone before sliding it into your back pocket, leaving him on read.

.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.

To say it’s busy would be an understatement.

You hardly have time to breathe much less overthink things with Bradley for the first few hours. Eventually, he stops; that or your butt cheek has gone numb from the constant vibration through your jean shorts.

“What can I get you?” You ask, not looking up from your open till as khaki approaches the bar from the corner of your eye.

“A blow job?”

Your eyes fly to Jake’s at the sound of his voice.

“The shot of course,” he smirks.

“Of course,” you grin back, pushing the till closed before leaning across the bar to kiss him. You pull back to murmur. “Promise to keep your hands behind your back and swallow it all?”

You’re just teasing, but you don’t miss the way his pupils dilate and the slight flush your words cause. But he recovers, “Spitters are quitters.”

“Mhmm,” you hum, “and I’m no quitter.”

His eyes drop to your lips, remembering how right you are.

A throat clearing has you stepping back.

“Sorry for interrupting whatever the fuck that was,” Natasha says with a disgusted look, “You’re with Bagman, Liv?!”

“Hangman,” Jake corrects, resting his elbow on the bar.

“Whatever,” she’s still looking at you, a bit horrified, a little disgusted.

“Uh…yeah,” you reply, looking at Jake confused as you pull a couple of beers from the fridge before popping the caps off and handing them to her. “Why?”

“Your funeral,” is all she says before walking away.

“What was that all about?” You ask. “Wait-how do you guys know each other?”

“She’s-“ his response is drowned out by Penny ringing the bell, and the cheering that follows, “when’s your break?”

You look at the clock and then the decreasing crowd, “Should be okay to go now if you want to meet me round back? I’ll check with Penny.”

He nods before making his way there.

.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.

“I’ll be out back,” you tell Penny.

She nods just as Bradley struts through the door. He looks so fucking good in those tight jeans and one of Goose’s Hawaiian shirts, unbuttoned. The white undershirt is tight against the abs you traced with your tongue the last time you saw him.

He scans the place but you duck out of sight before he spots you.

Any questions you had and Bradley’s presence are forgotten when you swing open the door. Jake’s leaning against the building, twirling a toothpick with his tongue as he waits.

Your fingers pull it from his mouth and fling it away before meeting him halfway in a heated, biting kiss.

He turns, guiding your back against the wall and you both sigh when your hips meet. You can feel the heat from his erection through the layers of your clothes and when he thrusts, the seam of your shorts rubs your clit just right; you’re suddenly convinced you can’t wait until your shift is over.

“Liv?”

You sigh as he kisses a trail down your neck, not hearing your name being called.

“Liv!”

Recognition tugs as your lust-addled mind but then Jake nips your collarbone while he grinds his hips harder. If he keeps going just like that…

“Olivia!” The door slamming open against the wall beside you makes you both flinch.

“Liv?” The desperation in Bradley’s voice tugs at your heartstrings.

“What do you want Bradley?” You ask as Jake takes a step back, still close but no longer touching.

Bradley’s head whips toward you two, brow furrowing before he pulls Jake off you.

“What the hell!?” Jake pushes him once he gets his footing.

“I-what-Liv?” Bradley stutters before looking to you for an answer.

“What?” You cross your arms.

“I need to talk to you,” Bradley replies, “please.”

“Now you wanna talk?” You laugh without mirth. “Now?! After 6 months of nothing? No calls or texts or emails or letters?”

“Liv,” he winces, “I know. I fucked up, okay? I-“ he looks at Jake, “can we please talk about this privately? Or just not in front of Hangman?”

“Hangman?” You’re confused. Both he and Natasha know Jake’s callsign. “How…?” You trail off as you look between them.

“We were deployed together,” Bradley answers, “he was assigned to the Daggers.”

The thought of them being deployed together had occurred to you, but there were typically several squadrons on the carrier at a time, so it wasn’t likely that they knew each other more than in passing; much less being in the same squadron.

You look at Jake and he nods at your unasked question.

Bradley was the one he’s been complaining about.

“Anything you need to say, you can say in front of Hangman,” you sigh.

“I’d rather not,” Bradley says, his jaw clenching.

“Then fuck off,” you push off the building to head back inside but Bradley reaches for your arm.

“Bradshaw,” Jake warns, taking a step forward.

“I was scared,” Bradley says hoarsely as he releases your arm, “and I panicked. I can’t lose you, Liv. I can’t another person I care about; my parents, Mav…I’ve been beating myself since I left, trying to figure out a way to make things right, and just making things worse by not reaching out. I know. I fucked up and I’m so sorry. Let me make things right.”

“Same old Rooster,” Jake chuckles cruelly as he comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, “sitting too snug on that perch again, huh? Missed your chance. Again.”

Bradley watches him kiss your cheek and doesn’t look away as his lips start to make their way down your neck. You’re not a fan of being this affectionate in front of others but this feels…different. It almost seems like Bradley likes it too. Until he opens his mouth.

“You’re doing this to hurt me, aren’t you?” Bradley says lowly.

“Doing what to-what are you talking about?” You ask.

“This,” Bradley nods at Jake, “You found out through Uncle Ice that he’s been making my life a living hell and decided to fuck him. Just to stick it to me?”

Jake stops kissing your neck to look up at him too.

Hot tears fill your eyes and spill over before you have a chance to blink them back. Bradley’s bravado deflates as he realizes he’s so wrong; that he fucked up. Again.

“Fuck you,” you whisper before heading back inside, Jake shaking his head as he follows.

.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.

A/N: I…dunno what to say. I’m really excited for this and I really hope you’ll like it. What’d ya think? Is Bradley getting what he deserved or too harsh since he’s been through so much?

As always, any interaction is appreciated but I LOVE hearing what you think in the comments/reblogs! Seriously, feedback helps me more than anything.

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moonbeamoclock · 10 months

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Hot take that shouldn’t be a hot take:

my biggest pet peeve is when people tag something as a x reader but it’s actually an oc…..i got to the last chapter of a fic only for the description of the ‘reader’ to be of a white person.

then the author got nasty with me after i called her out about it but that’s whatever

it takes an extra 2 mins to have a generic description of a person rather then give the details of their appearance but some of y’all are just too lazy to do even that

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heartsofminds · 3 months

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and the songbirds are singing like they know the score - part i.

"If Bradley squints his eyes, he can still make out the little five-year-old that he once knew who thought that he put the stars in the sky and cried when she found out that Jake’s real name wasn’t Hangman." or Quincy Bradshaw is growing up and no one knows what to do about it; especially Bradley.

a/n: in light of father's day, enjoy part one to bradley's precocious daughter making a re-appearance and jake seresin being reasonable for once. part two will be posted soon! the angst will be resolved, don't you worry!

It happens in between the end credits and the black fade-out screen.

The piercing sound of the phone ringing snaps you and your husband out of your near comatose states on the couch, seemingly entranced by Molly Ringwald’s whining (which only she can get away with because she’s fucking Molly Ringwald, of course) for the entirety of Sixteen Candles.

“Holy shit,” Bradley swallows, leaning up to sit entirely straight. His movements jostle you, causing you to wince at your cheek unsticking from its glued spot on his right pec.

You smack your lips and sigh, trying to wake yourself up. The obnoxiously mechanical sound the phone makes causes your ears a subtle pain, and you silently curse your husband for refusing to remove the landline phone that sits glued to your kitchen wall.

“It serves a purpose,” he had reasoned. “Don’t kill my dream of having a rotary phone.”

And the conversation of uninstalling a 1970s landline phone from your new house was lost in the abyss of cardboard boxes and cheerios on the floor from your then beyond spunky and energetic three-year-old daughter.

So while it sticks out like an eyesore amongst your “lived-in” and perfectly curated home, you often forget it’s there... except on occasions like this when the sporadic ringing shakes your eardrums and tightens the ever-present rubberband around your temples in the worst way possible.

Bradley sits with his elbows on his knees, almost trying to muster up the strength to deal with the nuisance of the ringing phone. He sits for a second and sighs before hearing your body shift.

You smush your face into a pillow; the constant ringing making you want to tear your hair out by the second.

“Bradley!” you whine. He pats the part of your calf uncovered by your shared throw blanket with an unspoken tenderness.

“Sorry,” he timidly apologizes.

He stands up; his left knee making an impressive “crack” before swiping his phone off the coffee table on his way to the kitchen.

You turn the TV off and lie in the complete darkness of your living room. The illumination of the moonlight through the glass windowed door in your kitchen shines its way to the floor in front of your couch. You have half the mind to yell to your husband to close the blinds that line the backdoor before your voice catches in your throat.

No one ever calls the landline. Very few people even have the phone number for the landline outside of Maverick and a few close family friends. Besides, anyone who needed to reach you had your cell phone numbers anyway.

So who the actual fuck is calling your landline at 11 PM on a Thursday?

You hear Bradley yank the phone from its place on the wall and exhale with a huff. After sixteen years of being together, you know that huff is his tell of being annoyed.

“Hello?” he gruffly answers. His irritation makes the question sound more like a monotonous statement.

“Bradshaw –”

Jake Seresin is on the other end of the line. You can recognize his voice from the other room with his cadence even though you’re not on the phone with him. Having “mom ears” does that to a person, you suppose.

“Why the fuck are you calling my house at 11 PM?” Bradley snaps.

You’re wondering the same thing, but you’ll have to talk to him about being so rude and huffy. Jake may actually need something, after all.

“Well, you weren’t answering your fucking cell and neither was your wife so I had to do something.”

Bradley rolls his eyes and looks back into the darkened living room. He’s been more on edge about you lately.

“You can’t miss me that fucking much to be spamming my phone with calls,” he sighs and leans his back up against the wall. He notices the open blinds on the back door and walks to close them before he’s yanked back by the phone cord.

“Don’t cream your pants. I don’t like you that much.”

Bradley lets out a soft snort in amusement before he remembers that he’s supposed to be annoyed. He opens his mouth to ask Jake what exactly it is that’s so damn important and can’t wait until tomorrow morning when he’s beaten to it.

“I have Quincy here in the passenger seat and she’s beyond unwell.”

The statement sends Bradley into panic mode instantly. His voice catches in his throat and he can’t recall a moment he’s had where he’s felt like he’s had to force the breath out of himself like this.

He lets out something between a huff, a cough, and a wheeze before remembering he can’t make a huge show of himself right now because it’ll also throw you into panic mode.

“What the fuck do you mean she’s not well? Jake, where the fuck are you?” he whispers into the phone, trying to cover his mouth as much as possible so you can’t even read his lips if you tried. “Is she okay? What’s –”

It doesn’t take a genius to know that Bradley is panicking. Even Bradley’s beyond intoxicated and passed out seventeen-year-old daughter sitting in the passenger seat of Jake’s truck could piece together that her father is nothing but a raging ball of anxiety at the moment, and Jake is positive that his friend is growing another patch of gray hair as the seconds pass.

“Oh. . .fuck, I guess I should’ve phrased that better,” Jake admits. His truck comes to a halt at a spotlight and he glances over at his goddaughter. “She’s fine. She’s drunk as shit right now, but I’m on the way to drop her at yours.”

Bradley can feel the obnoxious orange ball of anxiety inside of him shift to a tumultuous rage-induced scarlett. His hand tightens around the phone cord and he has to stop himself before he yanks it out of the wall. He’s gotten angry like this before, but it never was angled toward his daughter.

Never toward his sweet, precious girl. Never toward his amazing Quincy.

But she knows the rules (and she chose to break them) and she knows what was told to her (and she snuck out anyway) and she knows that it’s dangerous to be that drunk (but yet she’s passed out in Jake’s truck).

And if that isn’t both nerve-wracking and frustrating, Bradley doesn’t know what is.

“Put her on the phone,” he speaks lowly.

Jake gulps, knowing that he’s in one of those moods. Bradley doesn’t express anger as often as he expresses annoyance, but an angry Bradley is never someone he wants to be around. And from the way that Quincy made it sound when she called him to come get her from some random party in the middle of nowhere thirty-five minutes away from her house at 11 PM on a school night, he knows her ass is being had tomorrow morning by both you and Bradley.

There’s absolutely no way his goddaughter is coming out of this unscathed.

“Dude, she’s obliterated right now and I think you talking to her is just gonna make it worse.”

“And I don’t give a fuck. I said, put her on the fucking phone now.”

Jake shakes his head and rolls his eyes as Quincy begins to stir next to him in her seat. He’s always been the person she’s called whenever she was in trouble. He always got the first hug whenever she was brought around. He’s always been her source of comfort outside of her parents and he’s never minded it because being around her is easy.

It was easy to carry her around whenever she asked when she was little. It was easy to give in and let her sit in the cockpit of his grounded aircraft with him and let her play with the buttons when her dad and Papa Mav refused. It was easy to pick her up from school at midday and take her to lunch. It was easy to bring her back gifts from wherever he was deployed and even easier picking them out because she’s a sucker for meaningless trinkets.

It was easy to be her godfather and she’s a smart and relatively easy kid, but Jake has never been prepared for this part.

Because doing what’s best for her is hard, and he realizes that when he can feel his friend wanting to put him through a wall over the phone.

“No,” he speaks and he can hear Bradley let out a small gasp at the denial of his request, “She fucked up bad, Bradley. I’m sure she knows and you can have it out with her tomorrow morning, but right now, she’s not in any place to be screamed at and made to feel worse. You’re her dad and m’not tryin’ to take that away from you –”

Bradley scoffs, “What exactly do you fuckin’ know about raising kids, Jake? Huh?”

Jake grimaces and decides to take the brute of Bradley’s anger. Better him than Quincy, he figures. Besides, he knows Bradley doesn’t mean any of it. . . At least he hopes he doesn’t.

“You obviously can’t be a dad because you just wanna have fun and dick around all the fucking time. Buying them fuckin’ candy and letting them off scott-free doesn’t do shit. You don’t have what it takes to raise a fucking person.”

Jake doesn’t know why, but part of him gets that prickly feeling in his chest. Usually, every insult rolls off his shoulders into oblivion and he gets off on making people angry and being able to put on the facade that he really couldn’t give a damn if he tried.

But this one hurts because he knows that Bradley is right in some regard.

He’s a runner and he lets people down. He’s nearing fifty (and God, he never thought he ever would) and has never even bothered to settle down. And he’s made peace with himself a long time ago that he doesn’t deserve a wife or a family or kids because he would never be able to love them more than he loves himself; more than he loves his career.

To hear one of your closest friends admit that to you openly, to know that someone outside of you sees it too, makes his heart stop momentarily and forces him to feel the ache of the words meant to stab him in the chest.

“I understand,” he swallows. He knows arguing with Bradley isn’t the right thing to do at the moment and never will be. “I’m still not putting her on the phone. We will be at your house shortly.”

The line goes dead and Bradley is overcome with a wave of anger that drowns him like a tsunami. He knows what he said was shitty and that he has no right to do that to someone who he considers a close friend, but he just can’t help himself.

He knows no allies when it comes to his daughter.

The sound of the plastic phone slamming into its rightful place on the wall alarms you and part of your heart hurts for Jake.

Jake has no concept of boundaries and has no limit to the absurdities that he often commits, but Jake also has the biggest heart that gets overshadowed by his equally big ego. You know the words uttered to him by your husband have knocked him down in ways Bradley isn’t the slightest bit aware of, and you start to silently cry for him because you know he won’t do it for himself.

You force yourself up from your deepened spot on the couch and waddle your way to Bradley in the kitchen. The tears streaming down your face only fuel your need to make it right and to stand up for Jake and his quietly hurt feelings.

You don’t know the full of what happened, but you heard enough to know that no one deserves to be spoken to that way. Bradley is upset (and he seemingly always has this cloud of gloom hanging over his head), but that gives him no right to be so cruel.

The mama bear feelings are only amplified by the thirty-nine-week bump on your frontside making you tilt forward more than you usually do. Jake is a big boy and you know he can handle himself and that this situation has nothing to do with you, per se, but the lack of kindness surrounding you currently is stuffy, and you’d do anything to break the barrier to actually breathe.

You try and stifle your cries and wipe your starry eyes before you approach your husband; silently cursing how cold your feet are and longing for the day when you can put your socks back on yourself independently.

He stands with his hands against the wall and his head drooped between them. It’s a look of defeat; a showcase of hopelessness and frustration mixed into a burly mess of indigo and violets from the moonlight and dark sky peeping into your kitchen windows. Despite the darkness surrounding him, you can see the pink flush on the back of Bradley’s ears that has traveled to the tops of his shoulder blades.

The anger is rampant and on the verge of explosion. Seeing your sweet Bradley like this is a sight rarer than a double rainbow. Part of you knows you shouldn’t poke the bear, but Bradley knows he shouldn’t speak to people like that. Compromising your morals is something you’ve never let yourself do and being bone tired and thirty-nine weeks pregnant is not going to change that.

Something’s gotta give, and you decide that it’s going to be you.

His head pops up the second he senses your presence. He knows that something is off with you after your lack of announcement. His home and heart had been preoccupied by two of the most chatty (and rather heavy-footed) women for the past sixteen and a half years. Silence is not welcomed in abundance in the Bradshaw household.

As if he didn’t have to suck in his sharp breath of frustration seconds prior, he turns to you and opens his arms. The darkness hides your tears and aggravation, but he knows that it stands next to you as an unwelcome visitor.

Part of you wants to indulge, but an overwhelming portion of you houses irritation that won’t let you bite.

This night was supposed to be one of peace and tranquility. You’re coming up on week three of rest allocated by your maternity leave and you finally feel like the walls in your house aren’t closing in on you. Bradley’s light load of scheduled hops and paperwork has helped with giving you company earlier in the afternoons before you have to make room for your second daughter. The way that she’s sitting on your bladder and constantly kicking your ribs in the middle of the night throws the hope that she’ll be calm and sweet out of the window and opens the door to the reality that she’ll be a carbon copy of her older sister.

“What’s wrong?” you grumble, sending Bradley a scowl. You ignore his open arms and head to the fridge. You slam the carton of orange juice down on the counter and swing open the cabinet door to grab yourself a glass.

Bradley furrows his eyebrows in confusion and lowers his arms in defeat. His feet drag him closer to you subconsciously. The thought that you moved away from him because you wanted space doesn’t cross his mind.

“Nothing,” he leans his hip against the countertop, eyes scanning the thin stream of juice being poured into the glass. His nose wrinkles as you flash your eyebrows at him. That was always his tell of hiding something.

He knows you can clock it. He just really doesn’t want to argue right now.

You take a gulp from your glass while rolling your eyes. “Don’t lie to me. I know it was Jake.”

“Doesn’t mean something is wrong.” His shoulders slump before he closes the refrigerator door. You had been extra forgetful in this stage of your pregnancy.

Your lips mouth a reflexive, “Thank you” before you huff. Being lied to was something you never appreciated; especially when you know how bad Bradley is at doing it. Besides, you know that he knows you have heard quite a bit. The pointlessness of his actions starts a kindling of rage in your belly.

“Well, that’s funny because you’re telling Jake he doesn’t know how to be a parent over the phone?”

“I didn’t say that.”

His spine straightens and his cheeks spill a baby pink hue that starts to spread to the tips of his ears. You think he looks just like your daughter even though you can’t see the fullness of his face. Your eyes start to twinkle before you remember that you’re pissed at him. The serious face holds a standstill.

“Don’t play dumb. Do I need to say the exact words for it to ring a bell? ‘You don’t have what it takes to raise a fuckin’ person.’ Seriously, Bradley? What the fuck is your problem?”

He winces at the agitation in your voice. Hearing it being said by someone other than him makes him realize how fucked up he was to say it; let alone even think about saying it to someone as dear to him and your family as Jake. Your hands heavily place the glass in the metal bottom of the kitchen sink and your heavy footsteps storm past him back to the living room.

Bradley reaches out to grab your wrist and spins you to look at him. His hands envelop yours and place them flat on his chest. He sighs before dropping his head as if he was a puppy that had just gotten scolded.

“You’re right,” his eyes scan your face but refuse to peer into your own, “I have no right to talk to people like that.”

You let him hold you as your annoyance shifts to a denotation of shocked nerves that leave your heart sprinting like crazy in your chest for air. You’ve always been somewhat easy to work up, but your nerves have been oversensitive as of late.

Penny and your mother call it your mother’s intuition maturing, but you like to call it a nuisance. Although the first baby you’ll be giving birth to will make her way earthside in a few short weeks, your first baby will always be the chunky eleven-month-old with blotchy pink cheeks and abundant sass you met on Halloween sixteen years ago.

Bradley’s steady hand rubbing soothing circles on your back does little to help you differentiate the present and the imaginary. You aren’t sure how much time has passed or if his soft caresses continue on your spine, but you’re damn sure of what your gut is telling you.

Something is wrong. Something is wrong. Something is wrong.

“Is she okay?” you ask him.

The words uttered make the world stop turning for the millisecond it took you to speak.

You know deep in your heart that she’s not okay; that she hasn’t been for a while. Your bright and bubbly baby turned angsty and moody Senior in high school had happened overnight, it seems. What was once excited chatter at the dinner table about school and friends and club soccer and yearbook committee soon became absent, and the sound of silence from a missing spot at the dining table with you and Bradley had become the norm.

It became extremely noticeable in the last few weeks of her Senior year; calls of truancy being made to your home phone and numerous talks about possible grounding if she didn’t get her act together becoming more and more frequent.

Her attendance sucks but her grades remain stellar, so the idea of punishing her falls flat on its face whenever it gets brought up. You both have always known how intelligent your daughter is. You just wish she didn’t know it so well to know that you and her father are bluffing.

And to be totally truthful, preparing for a new and unexpected baby hadn’t been part of the plan. You know that you’re not Quincy’s mother in any sense of the word, but you’re her mom and have been for as long as she can remember. Looking for your face in the school pick-up line and at soccer games and honor roll assemblies had always been her normal, and the fact that she had to share that with something embryonic (as she would call it) that hadn’t even graced real outside world oxygen (again, Quincy vernacular) was not something on her bingo card for her Senior year of high school.

Your absences from these things, the things that are important to her but she’s far too stubborn to admit how much they actually mean out loud, were felt this year. She was raised understanding and kind but has inherited the sensitivity of her father’s heart. You know how much this entire pregnancy has deeply hurt her, and the guilt swallows you whole.

The abyss of her unverbalized pain looms like a fog in every corner of your mind. Guilt has a funny way of turning all emotions into its twin.

“I mean, yes? But she’s in for it once she steps foot in this house,” he grumbles. The meteoric thumping of his heart in his chest soothes you, but you know that the adrenaline pumping through his veins to move the muscle at lightning speed is sourced in anger.

“So she called Jake?”

Bradley scoffs. Your face is buried in his chest, but you know his huff of annoyance was accompanied by an eye roll.

“Tried to use him as her ‘get out of jail free’ card. Knows that shit doesn’t work so I don’t even know why she did that.”

You stifle a laugh and pull back to look at him. “I’m sorry I was so mean earlier. Didn’t mean it,” you whisper and he grins. Apologies have never been your strong suit. He would argue that you’re more stubborn than your daughter and Maverick in that regard.

“I’m sorry I was such a dick. Know you don’t like when I get like that.”

There’s no need for acceptance. You have him wholeheartedly the same way he has you. Verbally accepting each other’s apologies has long been a thing of the past; especially when you feel like you share each other in ways that no one else on Earth would be able to understand; two halves of a whole – husband and wife.

Your hand lightly taps his chest before you scoot past him to return back to the living room. From the digital numbers of the oven light in the kitchen, you know that it’s nearing midnight. You and Bradley had never been “good sleepers” (and now that you’re thinking about it, neither is Quincy), but you figure that you should get as much sleep as you’re still allowed. God knows that the new baby will be all Bradshaw and will probably be the worst sleeper too.

Bradley hears your heavy footsteps trudge up to the bedroom and the soft suction of the door frame signifying that you’re about to lay down for the night. He wants nothing more than to join you and revel in the peace; remind himself to breathe and of simpler times when it was just you and him, but it had never just been you and him because it was always you and him and Quincy.

The ache in his stomach returns at the thought. He has to put himself back in the mindset to put his foot down and let his daughter know that what she had done was incredibly unacceptable.

It’s not like he’s mad at her for choosing to act her age for once.

He had always worried himself sick after parent-teacher conferences because all of her teachers would comment on how mature his daughter was, but how that maturity often caused her to isolate herself. She had always been bright but at the expense of never wanting to play imaginary games with her classmates because she didn’t see the point in “pretending.” He had always thought that it was his fault; that exposing your baby to the History Channel and retired veteran chatter at the bar during the day made her not like other kids.

And it’s not like he wanted her to be a certain way or that he was scared of her being “weird” or that she wasn’t living up the the expectation of what he thought having a kid would be like.

Bradley had just wanted her to be kind and to feel loved, and he knows from experience that it’s hard living life when you don’t feel like the former nor do you ever feel the support from the latter. He knows a life of isolation and a sharp tongue that spears a bleeding heart. The last thing he ever wanted was for his daughter to know the same.

Nevertheless, he’s still angry. Angry? Enraged? Pissed?

Disappointed.

Bradley had seen the signs as much as you have of your daughter’s downward spiral through the duration of the school year. He ignored the phone calls of truancy and let them go to voicemail and held his breath and his tongue when she answered a question he asked her a little too harshly. He ignored the attitude and the slamming of doors and the glow of her bedside lamp being on well past 2 AM most nights.

Bradley ignored all of it because confronting it and her made it real, and facing the reality that she’s growing up and will no longer need him is something that he will never be prepared to do.

He takes deep breaths and grabs his water bottle off the counter, unscrewing the top and taking colossal sips. His therapist had given him a printed list of techniques years ago to help him manage his anxiety. If he can’t control the speed of Jake’s truck driving down the interstate to his house, he can control the pace of the icy chugs sliding down his throat.

Bradley wipes his mouth with the back of his arm and places the metal water bottle down on the counter. He paces back and forth before he realizes that pacing always makes him more anxious. His feet carry him back to the living room where he sits on the edge of the couch and balances his elbows on the tops of his thighs.

All that can be heard is the subtle tick of the large wall clock hanging above the mantle and the soft buzz of cicadas in the backyard. The silence is cut in half by blinding headlights beaming their way through the curtains that line the front window and the roar of an engine.

He doesn’t jump up to unlock the door like he usually would. His thoughts are still maniacally bouncing around his skull like a ten-cent bouncy ball. Besides, he doesn’t even know if he dares to face Jake after he had spoken so horribly to him such a short time ago.

The old Bradley, the one who was still hurting and lonely with no wife or kids or family, wouldn’t have given a damn. Fuck Jake and fuck everyone else.

But this Bradley, the one who is a dad and a husband and a friend and a son, gives a damn and he gives such a big one that he feels nauseous.

The headlights flick off and the engine is killed. The silence that resumes is so instantaneous that he can almost fool himself into believing that everything is normal. That his daughter is upstairs fast asleep in her room and that her godfather is fifteen minutes away at his own house. He prays Jake won’t knock on the door and disturb it again. Jake never knocked on the door anyway, so he might luck out, he figures.

But Bradley underestimates how nervous Jake is about this whole thing and soon enough, the sound of his friend’s knuckles rapping on the dark green wood that is the entity of his front door.

He holds his breath as he opens it.

He sees Jake, twenty years older than when they finally put their past behind them and became friends, and then he sees his daughter, meek and saddened and slightly drunk.

If Bradley squints his eyes, he can still make out the little five-year-old that he once knew who thought that he put the stars in the sky and cried when she found out that Jake’s real name wasn’t Hangman.

The Leemoore sweatshirt she has on is three sizes too big and does little to make her look like a high school partygoer, so he knows she has a riskier top beneath it. There’s no doubt Jake probably made a pit stop at his house to give it to her before bringing her home.

Jake knows that Bradley hates secrets, so her sneaking out and also having a second secret wardrobe stashed beneath the floorboards under her bed would not make for a welcome guest upon her coming home after getting busted. The sweatshirt at least bought her a little time.

“Hey,” Jake speaks, finally slicing the tension with a greeting. His left arm is looped through his goddaughter’s and she leans on him heavily to prevent herself from falling.

“Hey,” Bradley says back. His face is stern. Jake knows he means business.

“I’m sure this isn’t how you wanted to see me next.” Even though Jake is kind of pissed and anxious, there still remains a glimmer of humor within him. The complaint of many ex-girlfriends had always been how he never took anything seriously (and his serious lack of commitment too, but that’s an issue for another time), and he knows that it’s a blessing and a curse.

“Yeah, no kidding.”

Bradley grabs his daughter’s free arm and helps Jake maneuver her inside over the steep ledge of the front door and to the asylum of the living room couch.

Quincy’s eyes are wide open and her brain is moving in slow motion; scanning her surroundings but not being able to focus on one thing before her eyes are caught by the presence of another. She had never been drunk before in her life and the copious amounts of vomit that had spewed out of her mouth tonight discouraged her from trying to speak. Any thought of opening her mouth made the muscle memory of puking prevail.

The rational part of her brain knows that her father wants to wring her neck, but she silently prides herself on calling Jake and kind of doing the right thing (even though she knows the right thing was not sneaking out and getting fucked up on a Thursday, to begin with). Her dad will forgive her and spending time with Jake was always fun. She just vows to make sure that she’ll never puke in front of him again because he turned green at the sight of her hunched over on the side of the road.

Quincy lands on the couch with an incredible lack of grace. She bounces and almost slips off again, but sticks her foot out to help support her. Her vision is blurred before she focuses on the sight of her dad with the deepest frown on his face and his hands on his hips. Her eyes follow a horizontal line next to him and see Jake worrying his lip in between his teeth. A hiccup falls out of her mouth and she rushes to close it before her body can register a solution to the nausea plaguing her currently.

The silence between the three of them is unforgiving and she can’t remember a time where she had felt so. . .embarassed.

Here she is, about to get the scolding of her life in front of one of the adults she admires the most. All she had ever wanted was to be seen as a grown-up and it’s clear to her now that the men in front of her think anything but that.

“You got anything to say?” Bradley huffs. His glare sharpens the more he takes in his daughter’s appearance.

The silence he’s met with kindles a fire in his belly that shifts the anxiety he feels to the beginning of an obnoxious anger.

Quincy can’t answer verbally because she knows she’ll throw up. She can’t shake her head to answer him either. The room is spinning and the spiraling shadow cast by her vision will undoubtedly make her throw up too. She can’t even feel her lips and anything she has to say will not be an answer worthy of her dad’s appreciation. She fucked up big time and now she has to reap what she’s sown.

Her dad scoffs. The room inflates with tension from all three of the living room’s occupants. Quincy closes her eyes. Jake holds his breath. Bradley bawls his hand into a fist.

Here it comes.

Bradley opens his mouth; words like venom sitting on the tip of his tongue. Quincy closes her eyes and braces herself for the yelling that she knows is coming.

“Hey, let’s table it for tomorrow. Yeah?”

If Jake wasn’t already her favorite, now he certainly is.

Bradley turns to him. His cheeks are tomato red and his wrath sitting in the base of his throat. He has half the mind to come unglued on him before he remembers the pit of guilt from earlier. The putrid watery feeling of guilt dampens his vocal chords. His sentences dig a grave in his voicebox.

Jake is right.

His daughter can barely sit up straight and you’re upstairs trying to sleep. There’s no point in waking the entire house and having a one-sided screaming match with someone who will only have the faintest memory of what happened the next morning.

Bradley lets out a hefty breath of air that he hadn’t even realized he was holding in. Jake claps him on the shoulder in silent praise for his decision to drop it. Never would he have ever thought that Jake Seresin of all people would be the one discouraging him from being a total hothead.

“Thanks for bringing her home, man. Sorry about – you know –” he attempts to apologize. Apologies to you rolled off his tongue like water rolled off waterfalls. They just didn’t have that effect when it came to other people who weren’t you.

“Don’t sweat it. Wouldn’t be stickin’ around if I took half the shit you say to heart.”

It’s not funny but Bradley laughs. He doesn’t know if it’s a feeble attempt at repairing the hurt he had done earlier or if it’s to absolve some of the fury that was sitting unleashed in the room, but he’s never been more thankful for Jake in that moment.

Bradley starts to walk Jake to the front door and back out to his truck. Despite being the flashiest and cockiest person he knows, Jake has had the same car for close to twenty years. The silver F-150 had seen many drunk Bradleys and many drunk yous. He just wished that his daughter wouldn’t have been a passenger on the faux “drunk bus” too.

He’ll never admit it, but part of him is jealous that Quincy called Jake instead of him. He wants to classify the feeling as betrayal, but he knows that it’s just envy. He knows that he would’ve called Maverick at this age instead of his mom. It’s a teenage rite of passage and nothing personal.

“Look, it’s late and I know you’re pissed but she did the right thing. The party got busted, you know. And she uh – her friends were drinking, like a lot, and wanted her to get in the car with them,” Jake pauses, making sure Bradley is hearing the case of positives he’s building for Quincy, “She said no and then she called me.”

Bradley nods his head and the tension in his shoulders starts to relax bit by bit. He’s oddly comforted by his daughter’s morality despite committing the precipice of what makes up an immoral teenager to get herself in this damn situation anyway.

“Most kids don’t do that and I know she isn’t most kids so uh – don’t go too hard on her tomorrow?”

The open door of the truck makes a high-pitched dinging noise as Jake’s legs sit half situated on the seat and halfway steady on the ground. The soft yellow light emitting from the streetlights tints the world in a sepia hue.

“Can’t promise that. She’s in some serious shit.”

Jake chuckles. “Serious shit or not, that’s still your baby. She needs you more than you think, you know.”

The car door is shut and the engine is cranked. Bradley pats the hollowed metal of the truck as a “goodnight and goodbye” send-off as Jake backs out of his driveway and into the street. He watches as he rounds the corner to the stop sign before the image of his friend’s truck draws smaller and smaller and smaller until the image is microscopic.

Bradley finds his way back inside and sees his daughter lying on her side with a throw blanket swallowing her figure.

He heads into the kitchen to grab her a glass of water and some Advil to set on the coffee table. Bradley doesn’t recall being hungover so much as just sick to his fucking stomach the first time he drank, but he leaves it for her just in case. His eyes catch the bottom cabinet that houses the popcorn buckets and mixing bowls and grabs the largest one to serve as her “catch-all” puke bucket for the night.

As he settles everything and makes his journey upstairs to your shared bedroom, he hears the wet wretch of what cannot be mistaken for vomiting. His heart harbors empathy for his little girl, but his brain garners no sympathy for her. Some sick part of him is glad that she’s throwing up because it’s a consequence that he doesn’t have to impose on her. She had done it to herself.

“That’s what I thought."

He turns off the bedside lamp as he lays down next to you. You don’t stir from your deep sleep. The house is finally quiet and everything as is it should be.

Bradley just doesn’t like the fact that this kind of peace is tainted with the fact that Quincy is growing up and that there is nothing he can do to stop it.

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paperjunk · 2 years

Text

Life or Death - Chapter 10

Summary: Anger issues and memories of a horrific past biting at her heels, Kenzie Ames is pulled back into active service. Sent to Top Gun to help train a handful of Navy Pilots on how to survive their next mission, Ames’ resentment and anger may hurt her and those around her more than she knows if she can’t get it under control. Secrets weighing her down, Ames soon finds a Lieutenant’s persistent desire to know her maybe more than she can handle as the clock ticks away the time she has to make sure that not only do they come home, but the part of herself she left back in the cold, barren, tundra does too.

Author Notes: I am out of practice writing fanfiction. Sorry. This is an OC x Bradly Bradshaw or Reader x Bradly Bradshaw. All 3rd person pov.

Table of Contents: Will update as we go.

Ames sighed in the darkness as she sat down on the cold, hard cement of an empty hanger floor, watching the SR-72's assent. The sound of the night was drowned out momentarily by the engine's roar, as were her thoughts of when Maverick had cornered her in a similar hanger several nights ago.

"You know," Ames' body jerked at Rooster's voice breaking the quiet that had seeped back into the air. She was going to put a bell around that man's neck one day if she got the chance. "I have never seen you in a flight suit or your uniform. Not even once," he said with a smile that could be heard in his voice if not seen by Ames' eyes.

"What do you want, Lieutenant?"

Rooster was beginning to see a pattern. 'Bradshaw' when she was friendly and 'Lieutenant' when she was annoyed or didn't have the energy to give two fucks. He wondered what it would mean if she actually used his first name and what it would do to him if she did.

'Hell would freeze over first,' he thought with a quirk of his eyebrow before he took a seat beside her in the dark hanger.

"You don't like being around us, do you?" He asked, eyes watching her profile.

“No."

Both of Rooster's eyebrows went up this time, and he nodded his head in understanding.

"At least you're honest," he replied, turning his eyes back to the moonlit sky.

Ames sighed softly. "I don't like being in small places...with people."

Rooster was genuinely afraid to speak, let alone move, for fear that she might stop talking if he did. In all this time, he had yet to hear Ames offer anything about herself, even when they had been alone, other than what she had told Phoenix the night before. Nothing more, nothing less.

"My PTSD is an eight on good days," she said, not looking over at him. "On bad days—I start looking for the exits, then I start counting the heads in the room...then I look for the most viable weapons."

PTSD? Rooster thought back to what Maverick had said about Ames. It had been the first day he had stopped trying not to look at her but began to actually see her.

"You're going to die," she said softly, and it felt as if only Rooster could hear her. As if the words were something meant for his ears and his ears alone. "And your pride won't even let you see why."

Rooster remembered a sadness sweeping over her face before a mask, he hadn't realized she had, slipped into place.

What was it that Mav had said?

"The sim she's got you running. It wasn't a sim for her."

Rooster had heard him that day but hadn't let what it might have meant for her to sink into his mind.

"I live my life by a very simple motto. Life or death. Fly or Die."

"Fly or die," Rooster said aloud, and Ames' eyes landed on him in the dark. "The sim for the Felons. It was a real-world mission for you."

"No mission," she said softly as she pulled her leg up and rested the side of her head against her knee. "Escape."

Brown eyes darted to the light scar on the left side of her upper lip, to the ones along the back of her neck, and although he couldn't see them in the darkness, he knew there were ones on the tops of her wrists, where her tattooed sleeves of large flowering buds and coiling black snakes, hid. He understood why she didn't want them to be captured—because she had. She may have escaped her captors, but she had returned to find she had left a piece of herself behind.

"Not as sexy as you thought, huh?" Ames said, watching his face. Her scars had been many a person's curiosity. But, aside from those higher up the food chain and her DOD-appointed therapist, no one else knew. He was the first and would very likely be the last.

"I still think you're beautiful," Rooster responded unexpectedly, and he felt immediately foolish. Not only because it felt like the phrase was a catch-all, but he had just told his Senior Officer that he thought she was beautiful.

'What the fuck did I just do?" He thought.

Ames chuckled, wishing she could see if the tips of his ears were going red again like they had that night on the beach and how they had back in the bar when he had been just a little too forward. Just a little too willing to risk it with other SO's around; and just a little too careless with his military career to reach out and touch her. She had forced herself to pull away and smile jokingly as her eyes caught Fanboy and Payback looking around the bar and felt the sudden vibration of his phone in his pocket against her leg as he had pressed his own against hers casually in the booth.

"Beautiful...," she said quietly, and Rooster felt hesitation from Ames like a static charge in the air. "You don't know me, Bradshaw," she said in the darkness, lifting her head from her knee. "I'm seven layers of fucked up and have baggage for days..."

"I want to know you better," Rooster replied, interrupting her. "And who doesn't have baggage?"

"You say that now," Ames replied, and Rooster felt her watching him, gauging his response. "Wait until I try and stab you in the middle of the night because of a nightmare."

Rooster could have said any number of things to reassure her at that moment, but he couldn't stop his mind from latching onto what she had insinuated.

"In the middle of the night?" He asked lightly, trying to hold back a smile. Ames rolled her eyes with a sharp sigh of annoyance, turning her face away from him, which only made Rooster chuckle. "So, you think we'd be sleeping together at that point?"

Ames shook her head in disbelief, straining to stow her grin. "You would actively choose to lock onto that instead," she answered, refusing to look at him.

Shifting his legs as he still sat on the ground next to Ames, Rooster laughed. "For the past three weeks—" he started but was quickly interrupted.

"It has not been three weeks," Ames corrected, shaking her head again, feeling the heat of his body beside her as he moved closer.

"Okay, okay, two and a half weeks, you have been vigorously torturing me."

"Vigorously? What?" Ames' turned to face him as she laughed, her smile brighter than anything he'd seen from her before, and something raced up his spine, spreading over his ribs, and his heart tightened in response.

Rooster couldn't stop himself from smiling; he couldn't stop himself from leaning a little closer and smelling her perfume's now familiar scent. And he definitely wasn't going to stop himself from wondering what it would be like to wake up to the smell of her in his bed.

"You have smiled, touched, and flirted with me since day one."

"Touched? Flirted?" She asked, smile still bright. Rooster wasn't sure if it was in disbelief or amusement quite yet. "I have not flirted with you since day one."

"Yes, you have," Rooster replied, still unable to quit beaming.

"Oh my god," Ames said, pausing between each word with a laugh, rolling her eyes and turning away from him again as she shook her head.

"Didn't think I'd call you out on that?" He asked, licking his lips and watching her with a grin. "You have to take responsibility for me now."

So, Ames had been a little loose as of late with her flirting with the Lieutenant, and her own thoughts had wandered into dangerous territory several times, but that hadn't meant she was going to act on them. Since she first got back, the idea of a relationship was a joke. Much later on, though, Ames realized how lonely she had gotten. She had pushed away close friends. And family? Family did not exist for her. So, in the wee hours of the morning, with her eyes staring up at the water stain on the ceiling, she often wondered what it might be like to feel someone next to her again. To feel the warmth of a body taking over a side of her bed instead of her sleeping in the middle of it.

Unfortunately, in the last few days, the man beside her, in fantasies of normalcy—had morphed into Rooster.

Feeling the shift in her, Rooster leaned in, fingers brushing her hair back from her face as he found he liked to do, and she turned to look at him.

He had gotten closer, much too close.

The smell of his cologne, a citrus top note of apple and lemon balanced against a hefty sandalwood, clung to her like mist hanging over the wet dew of an early morning sunrise. She wanted to lean into it, to take in everything that he was or could be, but her mind was battling against her body.

"Bradshaw...," his name on her lips was all it took for the hurricane inside of him to slip the leash of his mind.

**************************************

A/N: I’m sorry for the cliffhanger. I didn’t plan on it. The chapter got away from me and was too long. I’m sorry! Though I will post the next sooner! Thank you for reading my little story this far!! It really does mean a lot!

#Top Gun #Top Gun Maverick #Rooster x OC #Rooster x reader #reader x rooster #oc #Bradley Rooster Bradshaw x OC #Reader x Bradley Rooster Bradshaw #Bradley Rooster Bradshaw x Reader #OC x Bradley Rooster Bradshaw #Reader x Bradley Bradshaw #OC x Bradley Bradshaw #mywriting

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simpforrooster · 11 months

Text

someone like me.

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x f!reader

summary: rooster gets jealous at the attention the bartender keeps giving you.

t/w: mentions of alcohol

“Can I get you another?” the bartender asks you.

You’re seated next to your best friend, Bradley Bradshaw. Callsign, Rooster. Jake talked the squad into heading to the town over for line dancing.

The bartender in question was definitely easy on the eyes, and had been meeting your gaze all evening. You answered his smirks with a few of yours, before returning your attention back to Bradley.

You raise a brow at Bradley, silently asking him if you aught to continue drinking. He answers with a quick shrug of his shoulder.

“Why not,” you tell the man.

A few moments later, he places an appletini in front of you. “On the house,” he smiles.

Your cheeks redden. As he walks away, Bradley chuckles.

“Got somethin’ to say, Bradshaw?” You turn in your seat towards your friend.

“Oh come on, y/n. You and I both know what he’s doing.” If you didn’t know better, you’d think Rooster was a little jealous.

But you do know better. You and Roos are nothing but friends. Something you’re still coming to terms with.

Of course you felt an immediate attraction to him the first time you met. He peered over his Ray Bans at you and gave you the most delicious smirk you’d ever seen. It was like something out of a romance novel.

But he’s never made a move.

“Are you jealous, Rooster?” you ask. Rooster quickly diverts his eyes.

“Of course not,” he says to the counter. The hand holding his beer tightens around the neck causing the veins in his biceps to appear.

Before your mind can go to places fit for a smutty romance, Rooster speaks. “I just don’t think he’s your type is all.”

“I’m sorry?”

Rooster shrugs a broad shoulder. Mischief sparkles in his eyes underneath the neon. He brings his beer up to his mouth, taking a long swig. Some residual beer hangs back on those lips, and it takes everything in you to not reach out and trace your thumb along the line.

“Well, you can’t leave me hanging. What’s my type? My love life certainly isn’t booming.”

Rooster’s hand falls onto the stool, in between your legs. Never taking his eyes from yours, he pulls your stool until it hits yours. The heat from his hand radiates. His legs have you trapped in, his broad thighs on the outside of yours. He still hasn’t moved his hand from your stool.

Your breath hitches at how he’s pinned you in. He hears it and answers with a smirk. A smirk identical to the one he gave you that first day.

A thoughtful look falls on his handsome face. He casually shrugs, feigning casualness.

“I just thought you’d always fall for someone like me,” he says. As the words leave his mouth, that false confidence is replaced with the look of boy afraid of being rejected.

You slide forward on your stool, almost into Rooster’s lap. One hand finds purchase in his sandy hair, and the other grips the wrist of the hand that was on the stool. Not giving it a second thought, you bring your mouth to his.

Pulling back slightly, you whisper, “Looks like you thought right.”

Rooster smiles against your lips and pulls you in for another kiss. Pulling back, you begin to place kisses along his neck. Rooster flags the bartender down.

“I need to close our tabs please,” he tells him. You don’t stop your kisses to see the look on his face, but you know Rooster is relishing in it. Rooster tosses a hundred onto the bar. “Keep the change, pal.”

Rooster gives the bartender a wink, and grabs your hand, pulling you out the bar and toward his Bronco.

masterlist.

a/n: i’m baaaackkkkkk. thanks for hanging with me through all my hiatuses! i hope yall like this quick little fic!

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

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topgun-imagines · 1 year

Text

No Worse Pain

Requested: yes

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

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: periods, cramps, pain.

Pairings: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x fem!reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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thatlovinfeelin · 1 year

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His Wings of Gold | Bradley Rooster Bradshaw |

When Bradley called you and asked if you would come down for his winging ceremony, you couldn’t say no. It was in September, right after the semester started, but you wouldn’t miss it for the world. You couldn’t let Bradley be all alone, not when he didn’t have any other family to be there to support him. So you got on a plane and flew down, just in time for the ceremony.

Dressed in your casual sunday best, you made your way onto the base, showing your ID at the gate, knowing Bradley had you on the approved list. Your heart pounded in your chest as you drove your rental car. You were nervous, both for Bradley and for yourself to actually be the one to pin the wings on. You didn’t want anything to go wrong, this was his special day.

He promised to meet you out front of the officer’s club, where the ceremony was being held. You couldn’t wait to see him, it had been months. Both due to your work schedule and his training. You hadn’t had time to fly over and see him, and you hated it. This was one of the longest periods you’d gone without seeing each other since he graduated from college.

You saw him the second you pulled into the parking lot. He had to be sweating in his dress whites, the heat was unnatural for this time of year. He paced back and forth, waiting on you. Your heart broke, you could tell he hadn’t been sleeping.

“Bradley!” You breathed out, running from your car.

You could see his shoulders relax when he spotted you, steps quickening so he could reach you faster. He reaches for you, wrapping you in his arms, breathing in your scent. He can’t put into words just how much he missed you.

“Baby,” His voice cracked just enough to let you know he was trying not to cry.

It broke your heart. You should’ve found a way to come sooner. So you hugged him back as tightly as you could, without getting makeup all over his dress jacket. You wanted him to feel every ounce of love that you had for him. He deserved nothing but love.

“I’m here, Brad,” You whispered in his ear, “I’m right here.”

“I can’t believe you’re real. I feel like I’m dreaming.”

“You aren’t sweetheart,” You told him, pulling back slightly, “You made it. It’s almost over.”

He sighed, and closed his eyes, nodding slightly. You could see the beads of sweat starting to form under his cap. So you nudged him towards the building, “Let’s go get a drink.”

He nodded again and started walking inside, hand guiding you from the small of your back. Inside was a mess of Wingees and other personnel that were here to watch the ceremony. Bradley led you over to the bar and ordered for both of you, two bottles of Bud.

“I want to introduce you to some of my friends, if that’s okay?” He questioned.

“Baby, this is your day. You do whatever you want,” You told him sweetly.

He just smiled and waved over a female with dark hair, “Natasha, this is Y/N, my girlfriend.”

“Oh my god! It’s so nice to finally meet you! I’ve heard so much about you!” Natasha gushed, reaching over to hug you, “Brad here doesn’t shut up about you!”

“Oh my god,” You exclaimed, “Me? I’ve heard so much about you! Brad doesn’t stop talking about you!”

The other female blushed slightly and took a sip of her beer, “Only because I’m one of the only ones to put up with his ass.”

“Yeah, thanks Nat,” He groaned, “I think you just like me because of the care packages Y/N’s sent me.”

“Yeah actually, thanks for those,” Nat said, tipping her beer towards you.

You couldn’t help but laugh. You sent Bradley a care package once every two weeks, full of his favorite candy and snacks. Sometimes you added in his favorite movies, just to brighten up his day and remind him to take time away from studying.

“Glad you enjoyed them too!” You laughed, hugging onto Bradley.

When the time came for the Ceremony to start, Bradley downed the rest of his beer quickly before leaving you to sit with the rest of the winging class. You took your seat in the audience, leg bouncing as you waited. The whole time you couldn’t take your eyes off of Bradley. You wished his mom was here to see this, you know Carole would’ve been so proud of him.

“LTJG Bradley Bradshaw, front and center,” The announcer called.

You took a deep breath and made your way up front. The announcer continued to give a bio on Bradley, including the fact that he would be stationed in North Island for TOPGUN. You took a deep breath and stepped up towards him. They said that you were the one pinning him just as you reached him.

“Hi baby,” You whispered to him, taking the wings, “I’m so proud of you.”

He smiled big and wide as you gently pushed the golden wings into his uniform. You tried your best to make them straight for him, so he wouldn’t have to fix them later. He held your hand and pulled you close so you could get a picture together. You couldn’t help but smile wide as everyone cheered him on.

What neither of you knew was Pete “Maverick” Mitchell slipped out of the back door before Bradley, or you, had the chance to see him. But he wasn’t going to miss Bradley getting his wings. Even if the younger pilot was no longer speaking to the older man. But he looked at Bradley as if he was his own son, he couldn’t let this day go by without being there.

After it was all over you took some more pictures together. You saw the way he looked at you when they awarded the spouses with plaques to thank them for their sacrifice and help they gave to their aviators during training. You could feel the love he had for you. And although you’d never talked about marriage, you knew he was thinking about it.

“We should do that you know,” he stated a while after once you were back in his little shared house with Natasha.

“Do what Brad?” You questioned, reaching up to kiss him.

“Get married.”

“Braddy,” You sighed happily, “You know I would marry you in a heartbeat.”

“So, let’s go do it.”

“Right now?” You questioned.

“Why not? We can treat the after party tonight as our wedding reception,” He half joked, “We can have a big ceremony later for your family.”

“Really?” You questioned, “Don’t you want today to just be about you?”

“Baby, it’s about us,” He replied, “You helped me earn these. I want to celebrate everything with you. So c’mon. Let’s go down to city hall.”

“Okay, Brad. Let’s do it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, let’s go get married, my love.”

“Wings of gold and a wife, this day can’t get any better,” He smiled so big you swore his face hurt.

“I love you so much,” You told him, kissing him deeply.

“I love you even more.”

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multifan2022 · 2 years

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Used to be yours

Masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

PART 2

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bradshawsbitch · 2 years

Text

little wallflower | bradley bradshaw x hearing impaired!reader

disclaimer: hello all. i wrote this for all of my lovelies who have loss of hearing, or have any type of hearing impairment, or am hearing and want to read a cute little fic. i myself am hearing, and i took a bit of inspiration from me being bradley, seeing as i work with a wonderful person who's deaf, and they are SO helpful and encouraging in my journey to get better at signing. if there are any inaccuracies, i apologise profusely - i tried my best to research what i could. seeing as i'm not american, i am learning ssl, and hope that I got the american signs right. please tell me what you think?<3

warnings: ignorance about hearing disabilities (nothing malicious at all, just good ol' norm thinking), bob being the mvp and a sweetheart, cursing. no use of y/n.

word count: 2.5K.

description: Bradley had seen you sitting on your own many times, and was bewildered as to why no one was talking to you.

◇─◇──◇─◇◇─◇──◇─◇◇─◇──◇─◇◇─◇──◇─◇◇─◇──◇

Bradley had noticed you a few times, often sitting by yourself nursing a beverage. Sometimes you were looking at your phone, and other times you were just observing the surroundings, smiling softly at the people who milled around. Bradley had never really seen you interact with anyone at all, except for ordering beverages from Penny, and then you always showed her your phone - something that puzzled Rooster a little. Perhaps you wanted to see if she had a particular drink that wasn’t too easy to get ahold of? Either way, he was enthralled by you. The way your soft smile lit up your face, and the way you seemed to be a little bit of a wallflower intrigued him. He also found himself wondering why you were always sitting alone. He’d only seen you once with another person, a friend who was gesticulating as you laughed - it was a very pretty sound, he decided, before he was ripped away by Payback to play pool.

Bradley always walked into the Hard Deck thinking that this would be the night he’d go over and talk to you - ask what you were drinking, where you were from, if you’d like to go out with him… but every time he chickened out, afraid that such a pretty person wouldn’t want a ruddy naval aviator who smelled of jet fuel and couldn’t stay in one place for too long. He kept his distance for a few weeks, stealing longing glances whenever he could.

One day, as he was sipping his beer slowly, Phoenix approached him with a roll of her eyes “When are you gonna make a move, Rooster? You’ve been staring for weeks,” she inquired, raising a brow at her friend.

“Make a move? Rooster?” Hangman smirked, letting his sentence hang in the air to rattle Rooster a little “who are we talking about?” Jake continued, his eyes scanning the filled bar. Natasha nodded her head towards you, and Hangman followed her gaze.

“Oh them? Don’t bother Rooster, they completely ignored me the other day. Wouldn’t even respond to my question,” this had Bob scoffing out an uncharacteristic laugh, that sounded somewhat like he was telling Jake that he was being an idiot. Hangman furrowed his brows, looking at Bobs’ smiling face “what’s with him?” He muttered as the WSO went up to get another bottle of water.

Rooster simply shrugged, watching you make your way over to the bar, near where Bob was stood.

“C’mon Roos, go talk to them!” Phoenix gave him a gentle push in your direction, and Bradley could feel butterflies thrash around his midsection as he cleared his throat before approaching you. You seemed to be deep in thought, waiting for Penny to help Bob with his order.

Standing next to you, Rooster looked down and smiled at you, before saying hi. You didn’t seem to notice at all, and Bradley suddenly wondered if perhaps Jake was right - you completely ignored him. Now, Rooster thought of himself as well raised - he didn’t want to touch you without your consent, but he also didn’t want to give up, even though being ignored was a pretty big sign you weren’t exactly interested.

He had to, though - he had to hear you say you weren’t interested before he gave up. So he reached out gingerly, only hesitating for a second before softly tapping your shoulder. You jumped as if you hadn’t noticed him standing there at all, and as you turned to look at him, your eyes had turned wide with surprise.

“Hi, I’m so sorry. I’m Rooster— I mean, my name’s Bradley, but uh I’m called Rooster by— uh… I was just wondering if I could buy you a drink?” He was rambling. Since when didn’t he know how to speak to a beautiful person? He could hear Bob barely containing his laughter behind him, and he had to fight the sudden urge to throw an elbow back to shut him up. You blinked, opening and closing your mouth a couple of times, with a pained expression. Damn. He’d blown it. He sighed and nodded slowly “I get it, sorry to have bothered you,” he felt dejected as he turned to leave, but stopped as he felt your hand on his wrist, and heard a sound that resembled “No”. It was soft, and little too quiet to actually make it audible in the loud, boisterous environment you were in.

He turned back, looking at you quizzically as you lifted a finger into the air - signalling him to wait as you tapped away on your phone. A frustrated noise left your throat as you scrambled to find the notes app you’d installed on your phone.

“They can’t hear you,” Bob spoke up from behind Rooster, coming to stand beside his pilot friend. Bradley looked at him, bewildered - what did that mean? Bob quickly waved a hand in front of your face, and Rooster slapped his arm - what the fuck was he doing? That was rude as hell. Bob only shook his head and laughed at Bradley’s exasperated look.

As you looked up, Bob smiled at you before signing with his hands swiftly. Rooster took in how your facial expression went from relieved to elated, smiling as you replied with your hands.

“Do you want me to translate what my idiot friend said?” Bob spoke softly as he signed, making that beautiful laugh fall from your lips again. Oh my god, Rooster thought, both he and Hangman were fucking idiots. You couldn’t hear them. He almost groaned at his ignorance.

He thought of himself as a man that was very ‘with it’. He considered himself a feminist, he thought everyone should be treated the same and that no person held any particular advantage over any other - he felt that people could believe in what they wanted and say what they wished as long as it didn’t hurt or put others at risk. But he had actually never really ransacked himself about his knowledge about hearing disabilities, which he felt slightly ashamed over now.

He watched you nod with a big grin, and he had to trust that Bob translated what he said (favourably, he hoped, perhaps Bob would take pity on him and wouldn’t translate into ASL how he’d fumbled it all). He watched you furrow your brow as Bob signed something that Bradley could only guess was “Rooster”, tapping his forehead twice with his thumb, his middle finger and pointer finger forming a V. He couldn’t be sure, but it made sense in his mind.

You locked eyes with him and his heart stuttered a bit as you smiled, repeated the sign Bob had made to his forehead and softly spoke “Rooster?” And then pointed right at him.

“They’re asking if you’re called Rooster” Bob smiled, he didn’t doubt that Bradley had surely understood, but Bob could tell that Rooster felt a little frozen under your gaze - and he figured he’d help kickstart this conversation by breaking Bradley’s little trance.

“Oh, yeah! I’m Rooster. Or Bradley.” He looked at you and then Bob before hesitantly trying to copy the sign they had made. You laughed and moved closer, adjusting his hand so it was at the correct angle before nodding at him with a big smile. Oh god, those butterflies came back with a vengeance having you standing so close to him.

“How do you sign ‘thanks’?” Rooster almost panicked, looking at Bob - was he being rude by asking Bob instead of you? Bob just smiled and put his fingertips, his palm open but not spread, to his chin before sliding it outwards ‘thank you’ he said softly. Rooster repeated the sign to your smiling face, and he felt as if he could stare at the way your eyes twinkled happily forever. It made his heart clench.

“I’m sorry that I assumed you could hear me,” Bradley said and watched as Bob made a fist, circling it in the middle of his chest before signing something else that was too fast for Bradley to differentiate. You just smiled at him and shook your head, Bradley took that to mean “don’t worry about it”, your facial expressions were so vivid and beautiful to him.

You signed rapidly to Bob for a few moments, holding your phone out briefly before you stopped. Bob smiled and turned to Rooster “They say they’re pretty good at reading lips, and that you two can use the notes app or texts if they can’t understand. You’re on your own now, pal” Bob smiled, patting Bradley’s shoulder.

“Bob, thank you so much. I had no idea you knew how to sign!” Bradley sighed, really feeling surges of gratitude to the WSO. Bob smiled before replying that his parents couldn’t hear, and he learned to sign and talk at the same time.

“That’s fascinating,” Rooster replied with a smile as you signed something to Bob that made him laugh. “What did they say?” Bradley asked eagerly, and Bob shook his head. “They said they appreciated me translating, but that they had a hard time with my accent” Bob smiled at Roosters bewildered face.

“I’ll educate you later. Have fun, man!” He simply said before retreating to the pool table. You took a hold of his hand gingerly, and Bradley felt his heartbeat pick up slightly at the feeling of your warm skin against his.

Making your way to the table you’d occupied earlier, he sat down opposite you. He felt a little out of his depth at first, talking whilst your eyes flickered between his lips and his eyes - but as he got more used to you taking a moment to write down a reply, or speaking shorter sentences in response, he felt as he would with any other person. He just wished he could sign as efficiently as Bob did, it would make everything so much easier for you. He wanted to learn how to sign so you wouldn’t have to concentrate so much on reading his lips. Why hadn’t he learned from the jump? It seemed silly now that not everyone was taught sign language in school.

You spent the night in that booth, laughing and getting to know each other, finding that you had quite a lot in common. Bradley thought you were just the sweetest, and he tried his best to not offend you or ask stupid questions - though sometimes they slipped out anyways. Like when he asked what type of music you listened to. He could kick himself. He actually apologized profusely before he saw you shake your head before typing on your phone.

“I hear a little bit. They call my impairment ‘severe’, but I can still hear some loud noises, and I love music that has a lot of bass in it - I love the thrum of the melody it gives” you smiled kindly at him, and he smiled back, grateful that you didn’t seem to mind explaining the most obvious things to him.

“It’s okay to ask about, you know? I don’t mind if there’s anything else you’re curious about,” you’d typed in after a beat, showing him the screen. He read the words quickly, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth, speaking slowly he asked how it was that you spoke - could you hear yourself? He felt stupid asking, but your voice was so sweet and soft, he was puzzled as to how one could form words without hearing them.

You smiled, typing away on your phone. You’d apparently lost your hearing after having learnt to talk, which made it easier to maintain the feeling of speaking certain sentences and words. You explained you preferred sign language, just because you couldn’t tell if your volume was too loud or too quiet, which explained why you’d spoken so softly, not wanting to seem like you were shouting.

Bradley smiled, mesmerized about your abilities, and he told you so as well. He could tell you were blushing at his compliment and that made him smile all the wider. Suddenly you took hold of his hand and held it to your throat before typing a quick “I can tell somewhat from how the vibrations feel in my throat when I speak - but it’s hard to tell what volume it’s at” and then you said “Rooster” out loud with that sweet voice Bradley had already come to love, even if it didn’t sound like everyone else. Perhaps that’s why he liked it so much. He could feel the vibrations that thrummed in your vocal chords, and he smiled. He’d never thought about any of these things.

You lifted your hand, raising a brow as if to ask a question, and he nodded - you placed your hand on his Adam’s apple. He laughed before saying that he thought you were beautiful. You smiled, looked down and blushed again before clearing your throat and slowly saying “You have a nice voice,”

Bradley beamed at the compliment “Yeah?” You nodded before typing “I can tell” with a little wink. God, he was a goner.

All too soon, Penny announced last round - and he made sure to swap numbers with you. You emptied your drink and typed out “I had a great time tonight. I’ll text you?” You smiled uncertainly, and he typed back “So did I. Please do text me so I know you’ve gotten home safe?” You grinned and nodded before wrapping your arms around his neck in a parting hug, waving goodbye sweetly before making your way out of the Hard Deck.

“Wow,” Rooster let out a breath as he made his way back to his friends who were slow to make it to the front door. Making eye contact with Hangman, Bradley groaned and said “Hangman, we’re fucking idiots,”

“I don’t even want to talk about it,” Hangman replied with a similar type of “fuck I’m dumb” groan. Bob was silently laughing behind them “That was absolutely golden,” he sniggered, throwing his arms around their shoulders and shaking them “Just two dumb pilots, huh?” He and Phoenix laughed.

“Jesus,” Rooster shook his head. “Bob. This was 'Rooster', right?” He signed and Bob nodded, laughing again “and 'thank you'” he repeated what Bob had showed him earlier. The WSO smiled and nodded at his friends eagerness.

“Can you help teach me sign language, Bob? I’d love to be able to talk to them better” Bradley sighed, wishing he could learn it all right this second. Bob smiled, he could tell this meant a lot to his friend, so therefore he said

“Of course, Brad. We’ll start with the alphabet tomorrow"

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