#rooster bradshaw fanfiction

[notroosterbradshaw]

warm blood

about: a few drinks at everyone’s favourite bar. you’re home, it’s been a few very cold months at sea. he warms you to your bones each time you see him. but it’s sadly just not meant to be. 

word count: 5.6k

warnings: angst, language, vivid thots of smut if you have an over-active imagination.

The sound that escaped Rooster’s lips as you dragged your nails through his unruly sun-kissed curls had you cackling. A feral growl that started at his boots, so low that when released, he almost didn’t recognise himself. “Rooster Bradshaw, you need a girlfriend,” you decided.

His side-eye to you was legendary and he sighed dramatically. “I don’t need a girlfriend; I just need to get laid,” he clarified, realising just how pitiful he sounded and then adding softly when you ceased your ministrations, “Please don’t stop. That feels so fuckin’ good. It’s like the most physical contact I’ve had in...” he mumbled, his honey-coloured eyes fluttering closed and took a deep, satisfied pull of his beer. God, how long had it been? He didn’t want to admit to himself, let alone you, how long it’d been since someone had touched him like that.

You sighed and let go of him to scamper onto the bar. A quiet Tuesday night, if it were the weekend, the place would be pulsating, but you had plenty of space to lay some affection on Rooster without the bullshit that could generally come with it and it definitely seemed like he needed it…

You spread your legs modestly (as your jeans would allow) and held out your hands open in welcome. Without a question of hesitance, he stepped to you as you turned him away from you and continued to press your fingertips into his scalp with the added leverage of this new height. His strong shoulders dropped, completely melting with your touch.

“Jesus Christ, that’s good,” he murmured quietly, crossing his arms across his chest, his head lolling forward. “And you decided to be a naval aviator?” he teased. “Your hands could have been better used in much better ways.”

“Ha,” you muttered behind him. “Don’t get smart. I have generous fingers. You need me more than I need you right now.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” he replied.

Whispered close to him, you said, “This must be the longest dry spell you’ve ever had,” you reckoned.

He nudged his ear closer to your breath and shrugged lightly. “Fuckin’ feels like it,” he said dismally.

“How long?” you dared ask.

“It’s goin’ with me to the grave, don’t ask stupid questions,” he muttered dryly in reply as you tried to hide your grin and reached for a sip of your own beer. He turned back to you, stepping out of your grasp and putting a respectful distance between your bodies, the moment passed. You crossed your legs at the ankles properly as he made a face; he’d let pretences lie and would never admit he hadn’t been satisfied sexually since... “Maybe you’re right, I just need a girlfriend.”

Sure, he’d had a lot of sex and lots recently, a healthy amount. Probably more than most. But these days, nothing was fulfilling him. He was desperate to find a connection with someone that just wasn’t happening. Women on platters, and he didn’t know how to strike out even on his worst night. Everyone would cum and have the time of their lives. But it was never enough for Rooster to want to see them again.

“Rooster, you have no trouble finding someone to fuck… why are you so off your game?”

“Dunno,” was his simple answer.

“Well, why don’t you go drag all the ladies in with a song or something?” you suggested, hoping to perk him up, ever his cheerleader, although it was fairly dead. He shook his head and honestly, he didn’t need to sit at the piano to have all eyes on him. At any point of the night, you’d look up and find some poor soul caught staring and trapped in the web of Lieutenant Commander Bradley Bradshaw and the authority he easily demanded.

“Naw,” he didn’t feel like the spectacle tonight.

“Want me to wing woman for you?” you offered in finality. “Babe on the other side of the bar. Pretty smile, curvy...” You chewed your own lip. “Very cute.”

“You’d do that?” he asked, following your gaze and kudos to you, you knew his type, all right.

“Of course. I can’t deal with you when you’re being a whiny little bitch. If it means you get your cock wet, I’m here for you, pal,” you roughly smacked his rosy cheek, and he laughed, clutching the sting as you asked him how you looked, propping yourself off the sticky bar and he steadied you.

He gave you a once over, a fond glance in his dark eyes. “Beautiful, but are you trying to get laid, or am I?” he pondered.

“I swore off your kind as a New Year’s resolution. I want the year to myself,” you grandstanded, and he chuckled.

“You’ll be begging for sex soon enough,” he straightened and took another long slug of his beer. “I know you. I know what you need,” his voice dropped a little lower, easing his lean frame against the bar.

Your eyes met his and honestly… he probably knew exactly what you needed, what you craved and deserved and as a few beats passed, his eyes daringly never left yours. His face remained passive, daring you to play his little game.

“You know what I let you know,” you weren’t sure how to play his words off so you finished your beer. But really? You hated how right he was. He’d been the only one to get a read on you when you first landed yourself in his seminar a year or so back. “I’ve got toys, I’ve got fingers,” you reminded him, reaching for him with jazz hands as he licked back his grin, growing wider by the second.

“You fuckin’ deviant,” he breathed. It was untrue, but he loved to goad you… and you loved when he teased you too. Just a little too much.

“Hey. If I want to find someone to share my time with, I won’t hesitate to break my resolution. They’re made to be broken, aren’t they?” you shrugged flippantly, blood searing under your skin.

He nodded, not disagreeing. “Yeah, well��� I’m sick of my hands,” he admitted dismally as you took the hand that rested on his quad and cupped it on your own. He laughed quietly and gripped your palm back. “I just miss the warmth, you know?”

Pressing the back of his warm, strong hand to your cheek, he laughed again as you gave him the biggest doe eyes with the dreamiest, forced smile, and he sighed. Each touch, each glance, each comment was just another link to how fucking good your friendship was and although the Navy had an odd way to keep you separated, your friendship trumped responsibility.

“Don’t start. Knock it off immediately,” he told you sternly. He could fall for those eyes in a heartbeat so it was best you put them away. You prayed desperately for him one day to give in to the heat and make that move past that imaginary line you had drawn.

Moving back to your seat like a scorned child, you didn’t give up. It could be one of your worst qualities at the best of times. Never knowing when to just shut up. “No, tell me exactly what you miss. Tell me what you need.” You settled in. You would love to know what turned Rooster Bradshaw on. He wasn’t like the other guys – he kept his conquests quiet. Lowkey. Sure, you knew when he was in the game, he made no secret of his intentions. But gee, he always seemed more complicated than an easy fuck kinda guy. “I want to know.”

“You don’t need to hear about any of that stuff,” he rolled his eyes and retrieved his hand, stuffing it back in his jeans pocket where it was safe and sound. “Trust me, you’ll be just like me soon enough,” he warned.

“Look, if you get to a point you’re absolutely desperate, blue from top to toe, I’ll drop my standards for a night and give you a night you won’t forget, okay, big guy?” you tried to bite back the laugh that bubbled under the surface and you weren’t remotely surprised he gave you the bird in response. “You’re just lazy. Go drop a line on any woman in here, and I guarantee, she will be putty in your hands.” You’d know.

It seemed like such a nut-up or shut-up order, Rooster knew he had no choice but to follow through. Standing to his height and adjusting to his posture, he mumbled, “Fine,” he stole your fresh beer as you protested and wandered around the bar, stopping before the gorgeous woman, who if truth be told, was exactly his usual type, you’d pointed out only moments earlier. Well, what was expected to be his type - that glint in her eye that told him he wouldn’t have to work too hard to get her number either. 

“Hey hey, look who’s back on dry land!” Natasha grinned, giving you a gentle side hug and ordering a drink. “When you’d sneak in, partner?”

“About half an hour ago. Your buddy cornered me first,” you explained as Natasha replaced the beer in your palm. “How’s he been?” you asked softly.

“Okay,” she shrugged. “Usual. Broody.”

“He was telling me he was lonely,” the word didn’t roll off your tongue easily even if it was something so synonymous with Rooster’s character.

“Shit, really?” Natasha raised her bottle as you nodded. “Anything to be wary of?”

“Don’t think so. You know how he is,” you told her, and she knew. Only Bradley Bradshaw could be so lucky as to always have you and Natasha Trace in his corner. “Oh, look,” you said as he nodded to you gratefully across the bar, and you winked back. “There he is - back in the saddle with absolutely little to no effort on his behalf. Well done, Rooster,” you said bored and just the teeniest bit sarcastic. “Bra-vo.”

“Please, if you had the chance, you wouldn’t share him,” Natasha righted you, smirking behind the pull of her beer.

“What can I do?” you admitted, thinking the idea had crossed your mind once, twice or every night since you’d met him about what it might be like to be the object of Rooster Bradshaw’s affections. C’mon, you weren’t immune to him. In fact, it was anything but -

“Please, he almost came in his jeans as you played with his hair before.”

“What?” you and Natasha yelped as Jake sidled up to you, grinning.

“You were playing with his hair?” Natasha asked, raising a curious eyebrow. “Oh, wow,” her tone told her everything she was thinking and none of it was approving.

“Hold that thought,” you hissed at her as she raised her palms for mercy, a small smile burgeoning on her lips. “And, fuck off, Bagman. Isn’t there some pathetic 21-year-old looking to be treated like shit for a few weeks while you string her on?” you muttered. Jake made a face.

“I’m just sayin’… wouldn’t be the worst thing if you guys tested the waters. See if there’s any sexual chemistry. Might even make Rooster a tolerable human being but it is behaviour like that that’ll get you both kicked out of the Navy.” Jake added as you threw a few loose salted peanuts at him. “Hey, I’m allergic!” he feigned, dusting himself off as he wandered off with a snicker, pleased he’d managed to rile you up with, really, very little effort on his behalf.

“I’m only learning he’s allergic to peanuts now?” you muttered to yourself.

“He is so fuckin’ toxic,” Natasha sighed. Toxic, realistic, honest. There was a lot to be said about Jake Seresin and his perception of the world. But you also kind of loved his lack of filter and how he called it as he saw it. Bit like yourself, he just had his head shoved far further up his own ass than you did… mostly.

“It’s actually his most likeable attribute,” you reckoned with a tease, tossing more peanuts across the bar after him for good measure. He made a face but was completely unaffected.

“But he doesn’t make a terrible point…” she continued as you both looked towards the other side of the bar, watching Rooster and the ease he roped his conquest in. Lick of the lips, make sure those golden biceps were bulging, aviators sliding gently down his nose as he gazed down at her… wait, there you go. She easily took the bait and nervously pushed the glasses up as he huffed a small chuckle at her moxie. He pulled his phone from his pocket a few moments later and handed it to her, clearly asking for her number. You had to give her kudos – she resisted his charms for about 1.6 seconds.

“Don’t be like that,” you begged.

“Like what?”

“Trying to encourage this. I’m dumb enough for him as it is.”

Nat gave you a tight-lipped smile and apologised. She understood, dear lord, she understood how you felt and while she could tease you unmercifully about it, she knew this wasn’t a passing crush for you. She gave her attention back to Rooster and muttered, “It’s like a car accident but I can’t look away.”

“Good for him,” you muffled, wrapping your lips around the bottle and taking a deep slug as she nudged you.

“Remember why you swore off all sex and relationships this year,” she said softly. “The purge.”

“This purge is for good,” you reminded yourself, saying it a few times like a mantra. Pity you didn’t believe it in the slightest. “You’re remarkably light tonight.”

She shrugged modestly and went into the small, very necessary details about her afternoon delight. “Don’t you miss the intimacy though?”

“Natasha, I know I made my bed and have to sleep in it, but I miss everything. I just want to come home and fall into someone’s strong arms, ground me, remind me I’m safe again until the motion of the waves stops rocking me.”

Natasha looked at you fondly. “That is actually quite poetic.”

You sipped your beer, pushed out an exhale and added drily, “Then get absolutely pounded on every surface of the house until I’m weeping.”

She cackled. “That’s my girl.”

“I got off the boat today... had the biggest plans. Wine, new rose toy I was dreaming about for the last three months... motherfucker needed to be charged.”

“You got two hands,” Phoenix reminded you just as Rooster had.

“Every night at sea, Phoenix,” you reminded her. And she knew. Dear God, did Natasha Trace know. “Every night.”

“Penny, can we get a coupla rounds of tequila here, please? Our girl is going through it,” Natasha smiled at the pretty bar owner who winked in the affirmative. You away from Rooster although Natasha motioned in his direction. “So, how was he when he saw you?”

“That slow grin… ” you said low and only for her ears. “The way he moves to his feet is a fuckin’ sin. He looked so good, I think I probably stumbled,” you cursed yourself.

“Sea legs,” Natasha patted your wrist and tried to make you feel better.

“Sure,” you shrugged flippantly. “Three months away did absolutely nothing to shut this little crush down.”

“That’s what you’re going with? Little crush,” Natasha repeated with a snort as Penny put a series of shots before you and took one quickly with you and Natasha between patrons.

“Little crush?” Rooster’s hands were on your shoulders, his strong palms massaging your tense shoulders, thumbs pressing into the nape of your neck and every ounce of tension drained from your being as he poked his face into your intimate twosome, a curious grin on his face as you and she straightened up quickly, turning to face him and he released his grasp on you. “Who has a little crush?” he asked, remarkably perkier than he was ten minutes earlier.

“You’re still here?” you asked him. “Thought you’d be on your way to - ”

“Amelie’s,” he supplied.

“That’s quite sweet actually,” you noted as he nodded, amused, almost like you couldn’t imagine a more beautiful name being found in a place like The Hard Deck. “Amelie’s house…”

“We said we’d meet up a bit later,” he shrugged, catching Penny’s attention for another round. “Been a while since we were all together. We missed ya, kid,” he told you as he snuck a shot. Natasha rolled her eyes.

“Well, here I am,” you forced a grin as he mirrored yours and it spread as wide on his handsome features.

“Yep. You sure are. Back where you belong,” he said as the air around you changed, and Natasha would be lying to say she’d never felt more like a third wheel in her life. She watched you watch the other, it was almost like you were daring the other to look away first. She could feel whatever it was between the two of you and knew that it was much deeper than either of you would admit. Well, she knew exactly how you felt. With Bob back in Lemoore with his family and Natasha needing another partner, you had been brought in and the PR party the Navy had with you as an all-female team? Sheesh.

She also knew how much you would risk everything to be with him. She’d never outwardly encouraged it, but she could see how hard you both fought to keep your desire for the other in check. He did better at trying to conceal it, but it was written all over your face. You looked at him like he hung the moon.

“Wanna get really drunk tonight?” you asked him, wrapping an arm around Natasha’s shoulder.

“Hey, don’t rope me into your hangovers,” Natasha tried as you covered her mouth with your free hand.

“Hush, love,” you tutted her. “You’re either with us or against us.”

She pursed her lips as you and Rooster grinned widely at her. “…you two will be the death of me.”

Cheering together that you’d drawn her with such little effort on your behalf, Rooster laughed. “Yeah, kinda think it’s a good night to get messy.”

“Natasha Trace, line ‘em up,” you instructed as she begrudgingly nodded, and Rooster rubbed his hands with glee.

“I am not good,” you told Rooster a few hours later. Rooster could readily agree that neither was he. Natasha and the rest of the team had bailed a while ago, leaving you together at the bar. “I really have to go.”

“Yeah, I know,” he replied. “Getting drunk wasn’t going to help you get over any exhaustion.”

“I haven’t slept in…” you squinted at your watch. “Wow, 36 hours. My bed is going to be so good tonight,” Bed, bed, bed. “Oh shit, Amelie!” you exclaimed, sipping your ice water. “Wasn’t she waiting for you?”

He shrugged. “Five minutes of pleasure there, three hours here with you and our friends. I know where I’d rather be.”

“Five minutes, dude,” you giggled quietly. You didn’t believe it for a second.

“I didn’t exactly see forever with her, Jesus,” he muttered, licking back a smirk of his own.

“I would never believe that anyway.”

“Thank you,” he finally let a giggle bubble out. “And you shouldn’t.”

“Did you at least text her? You were interested three hours ago…”

“I think she put her number into my phone wrong,” he lied so easily it was almost disappointing.

“Rooooster,” you dragged out.

He shrugged. “So what? Changed my mind,” he said simply.

“Hey, you two,” Penny sniped, pulling your attention from each other. “You either get a cloth and start cleaning up or you think about getting outta here, so you don’t have numbers in your system in the morning,” she warned. The bar had long since rang the last call and you were the last patrons standing – but also, on the plus side for Penny, probably the evening’s highest paying.

“Sorry, Penny. Lemme pay,” Rooster said, getting his credit card from his wallet and tossing it on the gummed-up bench. She grinned and slid the card back across the bar as Rooster protested.

“Hangman took a chunk of the bill off earlier. I’ll let you two get away with a few freebies if you lock the door on the way out?”

“Oops,” you said, picking yourself up and stretching. “We will,” you said as you collected your belongings. “Sorry again.”

She gave a gentle nod as you headed for the door. “Someone will be,” she whispered to herself solemnly.

“I’d better walk you home, I guess,” Rooster said, waving goodnight and following you a careful distance away.

“You don’t have to do that,” you said as he opened the door for you and let you out into the cooler night air. The liquor in your system swept a series of goose pimples break out as the breeze off the ocean breeze hit your skin. You shivered instinctively.

“You good?” he asked.

“Yes, Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw, I’m perfectly fine,” you answered, rolling your eyes and inhaling the sea air. “You think I’d get sick of it, right?” you asked with a grin.

He didn’t even need you to explain yourself. “Never,” because he understood the feeling implicitly.

“Never,” you repeated as he nodded towards the beach, following the path to your place.

You walked in a comfortable silence for a while and before you realised it, your villa was before you. “Here we are. I actually can’t wait to get to sleep in my own bed.”

He grinned. “One that doesn’t rock.”

“Not tonight it won’t,” you said glumly, taking his comment as a double entendre as he giggled quietly even though he was probably being purely innocent in his commentary, following you to the door. You struggled with the key for a few moments before he carefully nudged you aside and remedied the situation at hand.

The door opened and he sighed. Relieved, disappointed, he didn’t know. “I’ll see you tomorrow, huh?”

“I am off until next week,” you told him. God knows you needed it.

“So, I’ll see you tomorrow,” he reiterated with a gentle smile, but if he meant the bar, you couldn’t fathom backing up from the eventual hangover tomorrow was sure to bring. It filled you with dread.

“Yessir,” you mumbled as you stared at the other for a moment. So much to say that would always remain silent. For any other two people in the universe, right now you would be taking those last steps closer, lips tenderly brushing the others and seeing if the kiss was right. He would lay his strong, calloused palms on your hips, squeezing you closer to rest your body against his and you would willingly encourage the kiss -

Yet here you were, taking that next step in the other direction to go to bed alone, without even the slightest touch to say goodnight; no whisper of a whiskey-laced caress to dare cross your lips. And all you really wanted was to take his hand and guide him to your room that he’d never seen the inside of, strip him down, and explore the body he worked so hard on perfecting. Let him discover your body with his hands, with his lips, his tongue. Find out what made you call his name out in the dark.  

See what made the other make sounds that you only dreamed about, that you only thought he made in the throes of fucking, limited only to when the groans of pleasure he’d make when he found out how wet you really were for him and how well, til then, you’d hidden it from him.

How wild you willed him to be, reckless when he stopped holding himself back, the guttural, primal movements of his strong body as he slammed into you, touching every piece of naked skin within his grasp. How his tongue would devour yours and his kisses not missing a beat, working in perfect tandem with the rhythm of his hips –

“Where you at, sunshine?” he asked with a peaked dark brow, waving a palm in front of your face. Jesus Christ, how long had you been fantasising while he was standing right before you?! “Looks like it’s time for bed, kiddo.”

You huffed an embarrassed laugh. “Definitely,” you agreed, blame it on months at sea, blame it on the alcohol. Get you inside alone immediately if not sooner. Put this sexual frustration to bed once and for all. “Goodnight, Rooster. Thanks for walking me back.”

“Lieutenant,” he gave a gentle wave as you forced a smile and closed the door before you did something incredibly stupid… like drag your superior officer in and do things that would certainly dishonourably discharge you (or both of you), suspend your pay or worst, confinement for two years. You didn’t know which one scared you the most.

But you were pretty sure the feelings you had for Rooster were the worst of a bad bunch.

And you were whipping the door open again as you saw him heading back towards the street. “Rooster,” you said as he paused. “Bradley...” you repeated, a name you rarely called him, but Lieutenant Commander was certainly not how you wanted to get his attention at 2am in the middle of the street.

He looked at you and back to your house, confused. “You okay? What’s going on?” The concern in his voice was evident.

“No, no. I’m honestly fine,” you reassured him. “I just need you to know how stupid I am,” spit it out, your brain (and heart) screamed. He laughed quietly.

“What are you talking about?”

You stayed silent and you could tell he was growing uncomfortable. He was adorable and so terribly clueless. “Rooster, I was being honest before.”

He frowned and shrugged, nothing standing out to him that he was to recall. “I mean, I’d hope so. But what, exactly?”

You inhaled sharply. “Earlier tonight, I wasn’t kidding... I will be there for you anytime you need me. In any way...” you took in his face as it began to dawn on him what you were insinuating. “You need me. A friend, wingman, a confident... whatever.”

He swallowed roughly. “Oh.”

You let go of him. “It’s all so easy when we’re away from each other, but then I see you and all I can think about is how good we are together and how good we could be...”

“Jesus...” he muttered quietly, rubbing his tired face but his gaze remained hard on you, unbelieving. “How drunk are you?” he wanted to blame the alcohol now too.

“Sober enough to know this had to come out eventually. I can’t just be one of the boys anymore, not with the way you make me feel. I think about you all the time,” you took a breath and repeated, “All the time.”

He took your wrists and dragged you back to your front stoop. He trapped you against the door and caged you under his strong arms, hoping you’d go in and pretend what you were announcing wasn’t tangible. He drew in a shaky breath, but he didn’t dare touch you. You could feel the heat radiating off his golden skin and the way his tongue ran over his full lips. “Why are you telling me this now?”

“Because I can’t keep it in anymore. Because you need to know that if you want me, I’ll be waiting.”

“How long has this been going on?” he asked quietly. “How long have you felt like this?”

“Since my first seminar. Was this stupid moustache,” you confided as he flushed and laughed incredulously to himself, this couldn’t be real. “And I know I’ve probably ruined our friendship, completely tested the boundaries of professionalism and you probably hate me – ”

“Hate you?” he repeated, grimacing. “In no world could I ever hate you, kid.”

“Really?” you asked, a hopeful flutter in your heart. “I know this isn’t what you were expecting, and believe me… I didn’t want to feel this way, I just… I just can’t seem to stop,” the sheer frustration evident in your voice and he could viscerally feel your discontentment. “It’s supposed to go away when we’re on the job. I went away for fuckin’ months, and I see you tonight,” you blurted out before you could stop yourself. “And in my fuckin’ brain was convinced I was over it.”

“Your heart?” he asked quietly.

“Didn’t agree,” you confided, embarrassed. Quiet. Ashamed. Tortured.

He sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping. Nothing you were saying made sense, not when he knew he felt exactly the same and every day did everything in his power to try and pretend his feelings for you didn’t exist. “Kid – ”

“I know I’ve ruined our friendship. I know I’m putting everything we have at stake, whether it’s personal or professional, and I’m sorry, but I’m about to burst,” you wanted to yell.

“Hey, hey,” he soothed, “Calm down. I know... I know,” he said softly. He desperately wanted to give just one reassuring nudge but knew every touch could be construed as something else, and Bradley Bradshaw had never felt so torn in two before.

“You know?” you asked, a spark of hope lurching in your heart.

“There is something here, you know there is,” his voice was so low. “But what way is there around it? It’s a lose-lose situation. I’m your superior.”

“Trust me, I’m well aware of that,” your sweet, pained voice was so sombre, it was haunting him. For so long, he’d denied how he’d felt; he had to. You were his direct report, he was your teacher, and you were his dutiful student. And it wasn’t intentional that he felt how he did because he did everything in his power to push any of the nonsensical feelings away, he begged to be sent OS, anything to resist the temptation… but the temptation of what you made him feel - alive - was the hardest to shake and he missed the feeling whenever you were away.

“I don’t know what else I can say - ” he tried.

“I think of you when I touch myself, Rooster,” you grasped his shirt and you saw him swallow roughly. You went for the big guns… you were spiralling and desperate. But it certainly was no word of a lie.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” he took that step closer but dared not touch you in return, his palms almost pressing their indent into your front door. He feared if took another step and felt you were against him, he would give in and risk everything. “…tell me more,” he begged. “Please. What do you see?”

“Really?” you asked softly. 

“I need... I need to know,” his voice was so low, you felt it to your bones.

Your hands rose to his rest on his pecs, his muscles reacting under your touch, his head lolling closer, lips so close but like magnets, they kept a safe distance repelled. “It always comes back to me goin’ down on you. The sounds I imagine you make, hard and hot in my mouth. How you taste,” you felt the heat radiate through your body, but now you’d started you weren’t sure that you could stop… and you weren’t sure Rooster wanted you to either.

“Do you want to find out?” he said, voice gravelly, standing over you, millimetre by excruciating millimetre, he crept closer. He had never been so uncomfortable, but never so close to needing the relief you were placing right in his palms.

“Do you?” you challenged, your knuckles grazing his abs hard and tense under his shirt, coming to rest on his hips, your fingertips tracing the seams on his belt. His eyes drifted closed and tried to find his resolve. You must have been challenging him, there was no other recourse for this. Your banter together was notorious... but this was testing the limits of your friendship.

That imaginary line was non-existent now. There was no turning back.

“You’re bullshitin’ me, I know you are,” he said, and it hurt to admit, his breathing heavy and uncontrolled. Desire radiated through him and he now knew, he wouldn’t be able to go back to a place where this wasn’t happening.

“Rooster,” you took that step he couldn’t, bodies flush against the other. “That woman, Amelie, she won’t please you the way I will. Let me show you how good we can be together,” you pleaded softly.

“You're my friend...” his brain just couldn’t function; it couldn’t comprehend these words you were telling him. Words he’d wanted to hear you say since you shared that first small grin, seated proudly beside Phoenix. You’d share so many near misses together that actually getting to this made him wonder if he was dreaming. “I’m your commanding officer.” It all came down to this.

But you couldn’t hear his defences and asked, “Have you never thought of me the same way I think of you?”

His dark eyes burned deeply into yours and without a hint of a lie, he replied, “You know I have,” it was barely audible, when he added, “You know. You know I want you, kid… Everyone does.” And that was the problem for all involved. 

“Then don’t worry about the next notch in the bedpost… and let me show you what you’re missing.”

He breathed, the whiskey on his tongue swirling and you were desperate to taste it.

“Say it. Say what you’re thinking.”

He raised his eyes to yours, his strong hand reaching for the door handle behind you. “One night. No rules. Tomorrow, we will never speak of this again,” he turned the knob and the door opened. He gently grasped your wrist as he led you inside and at that moment, you knew every facet of your life was irrevocably changed.

A/N: the tag list no longer exists. To keep up to date, give @notroosterbradshaw-library a follow x

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His Little Girl | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader P.83

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Hi, my loves! We are back with another chapter!!! I really need to catch up with writing. I have been so busy 🤪 Brb gonna watch Top Gun for some Motivation! I love you all so much! 💕 Happy reading and enjoy! ❤️

A/n: You and Bradley have something important to ask of Phoenix, Hangman, and Austin, What will it be? Bradley returns to work for the first time in uniform since the accident. 🫣😳

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: cursing, crying, anxiousness, some sadness, but so much happiness and love 🥰

Please don't take my work, I will find you. 

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Bradley’s POV

Austin and Phoenix came in through the front door with bags of groceries. Leia was in the backyard running around with Gunner. Hangman and I were sitting on the couch with the boys. Hangman was hunched over Little Bradley on the couch while he was laying in his lap. He was playing peek-a-boo with him. Even though baby boy had no idea what was going on. I’m pretty sure his eyes were closed 98% of the time Bagman was playing with him. 

“Sup guys,” Austin called over and nodded his head at Hangman and me as he placed some grocery bags onto the counter. 

I nodded and waved back over to him. “What’s up, Aus. Phoenix my girl, my favorite wing-woman. Thank you for doing y/n and I a solid this morning and cleaning up for us.” She came over and grabbed my hand and placed a kiss on my knuckles. 

“Anything for y/n and the boys, Bradshaw.” She winked and leaned over the couch to look at Luke passed out on my lap. She cooed over him. “Oooooh look at the little man sleep. Is that Luke or Bradley?” 

I chuckled. “Luke.”

Hangman interjected. “Bradley boy has a new and cool gift from his mama and daddy.” He picked up little Bradley and handed him off to Phoenix. 

“Huh.” Phoenix raised her brows and nodded. “What is your new and cool gift Bradley boy?” She said in a baby voice as she grabbed him and covered his chubby cheeks in kisses. 

“Hazel. Eyes.” Hangman smiled and looked back at Phoenix.

Phoenix raised her brow and readjusted Brad against her chest. She looked over at me and was looking for approval. “Hazel eyes??”

I nodded. “He’s got some dreamy hazel eyes. The perfect combination of mine and y/n’s eyes.”

Her eyes went wide as she carefully held baby Brad in her hands. Austin joined and looked at him in Phoenix’s hands. He opened his eyes and his eyes were glistening at them both. They were mesmerized by his piercing hazel eyes. 

“Oh, man. Look at those.” Austin chuckled and rubbed his index knuckle against Brad’s cheek. “Those are beautiful.” 

“There is a new secret weapon in town and it is this little man.” Phoenix was smiling at baby Brad in her hands. “Look out world. Luke and Bradley are going to steal your girls.”

I laughed and shook my head. “He is the only one with Hazel eyes. Luke has green eyes like Leia and me.” 

Austin and Phoenix both looked at me shocked. “So then you’re gonna be able to tell them apart forever?” Austin chuckled.

“And you won’t have to like call the hospital and beg one day for their original fingerprints to try and tell them apart when they’re 13 because you are having second thoughts about possibly mixing them up when they were 6 months old?” She raised her brows.

I started to laugh. “God, that would have been a fun and great story one day if that were the case. But, we, unfortunately.” I rolled my eyes. “Won’t get the chance to mix them up because they have that difference.” 

Hangman shrugged his shoulders. “I still think we are going to mix you, Leia, Little B, and Luke up because you are all carbon copies.”

I rolled my eyes and stood up as I brought Luke to my chest. “On that note.” I handed a sleeping Luke to Austin. “Would you all watch my kids for a second? Leia is out back with Gunner playing. I need to go check on my wife. Make sure she’s okay.” 

Austin and Phoenix took a seat on the couch with the boys and Hangman headed out back with Leia and Gunner. 

I ran up the stairs and opened the door quietly to see the bed fixed and empty. 

“Sweetheart? You in the bathroom?” I entered the room and closed the door behind me. 

You came out from the closet with your hair wrapped up in a towel and one of my shirts on. “God, I haven’t fit into one of your shirts like this since before I was pregnant with the boys.” You giggled and came over to me and placed a kiss on my lips.

I smiled and wrapped my arms around you. “Sleep good, baby?”

You nodded and smiled up at me. “I did. Thank you so much, Bradley. I really needed that.”

I kissed you again and rubbed your back. “Anything for you, sweetheart. I knew you needed some rest. You did so much last night and these last 9 almost 10 months. I owed it to you.”

You hummed and laid on my chest. “Where are the kiddos?”

I laid my head on top of yours and embraced you tightly. “They are all downstairs. Being taken good care of.” You nodded and looked up at me. 

“I’m going to finish getting ready. I’ll meet you downstairs in 20. We have our big news to share with the three adults downstairs.” You raised your brows and turned around to continue to get ready.

“Oooo. You are right. The godparents.” I smiled and placed one more kiss on your cheek as I gripped your hips. “See you downstairs in a bit, mama.” 

———-

I rejoined the future godparents and the kids downstairs. Leia had just come back in from the backyard with Gunner. Hangman was washing her hands in the kitchen. Gunner was wedged in between Austin and Phoenix trying to smell the boys. 

I sat in one of the single sofas across from the couch and watched Phoenix, Hangman’s, and Austin’s interactions with the kids. I smiled seeing how much they cared for them. I knew you and I were making a great choice in choosing them to be there for our kids for the rest of their lives. I looked down and started to think about when we would go back to San Diego and everyone else would get to meet the boys and see Leia again. Man… I couldn’t wait. You and I were the luckiest people in the world to have everyone we had in our lives. 

Hangman made his way over with Leia. He sat next to Austin on the couch with Leia in his lap. She leaned over carefully as she watched her little brothers sleep. She softly started to rub Luke’s head. 

You finally made your way down and greeted everyone. 

“Hey Good afternoon, Mrs. Bradshaw!” Hangman laughed and he grabbed your hand. 

You made your way over and kissed all three kids on their heads. 

“Hey, mama. How did you sleep?” Phoenix reached her hand out for yours and interlocked your fingers with hers. 

You smiled and let out a relaxing sigh. “I slept great. Thank you all so much for taking care of the kiddos to let me sleep in a little bit.” 

Austin grabbed your other hand and placed a little kiss on it. “Anything for the hardworking mama!” 

You giggled and looked over at me. I gestured for you to come and sit on my lap. You made your way over and sat with me. I wrapped my arms around your waist and you cleared your throat. 

“Sooooo.” You smiled at all of them before looking at me.

They all looked at each other confused. 

I peeked my head around your body and smiled. “We have a surprise for you all.”

They all furrowed their brows at you and me. Leia popped up from Jake’s lap startling Gunner. “Are we having more babies!?”

Austin, Phoenix, and Hangman looked at Leia with wide eyes and then shared the same look with us. You started to laugh and so did I.

“God. Y’all move quickly. Didn’t waste any time.” Hangman pursed his lips together and shook his head at us. He looked disgusted. The whales.

You shook your head and leaned back against me. “Definitely no more babies.”

“For now.” I smiled. You rolled your eyes at me and looked back to the group.

“Bradley and I wanted to ask the three of you.” You looked at Jake and smiled. “And Sarah.” He smiled back at you. “If you would do Bradley and me the honor of being the boy’s godparents.” You bit your lip nervously as you waited for their answers. 

They were all stunned and were lost for words. 

Phoenix looked down at baby Brad sleeping in her arms. She bit her lip as it quivered. She looked back up at you and me as she wiped her tears. “I would love that more than anything.” She placed kisses on baby boy's cheeks as she held him close. 

Austin smiled and was holding back his tears. “Are you serious?”

Hangman was just staring into space in the boy’s direction. You broke down, “I’m dead serious… What do you all think?” I held you close and waited for all of them to reply. 

“YES!” Phoenix nodded in excitement as she embraced baby Brad to her chest. Austin smiled at you and me with tearful eyes.

“I would be honored to be a godfather of one of these little guys.” He wiped the inner corner of his eyes.

Hangman was still silent. I looked over at him and leaned forward against your back. “Bagman?” I raised my brow at him and smirked. He looked up at me with his lips pushed together. “What do you say, wingman?”

He opened his mouth slightly about to say something and then looked down. He licked his lips and pushed them back together. Leia patted the top of his head. “Uncle Jakey?”

Hangman looked back up at Leia and smiled. He looked back over at you and me. “I would love to. Thank you.” He bit his lower lip and looked down. “Thank you for this. Seriously.”

I chuckled. “I wouldn’t and they wouldn’t be here without you.” He looked up at me quickly and started to cry slightly. I gave him a reassuring smile. “Thank you, Seresin.”

He smiled at me and looked back over at the boys. You wiped your tears, “So it’s settled. Of course, after you ask Sarah, Jake.” 

Hangman smiled back at you and nodded. “I know she would love to. So which lucky man do I get?” He chuckled.

You looked back at me and nodded. I cleared my throat. “Our little Luke.”

Phoenix gasped and placed her hand over her mouth. “Aus, that means we have little Braddie boy.” She poked his nose and hugged him. “But I will and always will be here for both of you boys.”

Austin and Hangman nodded. “I agree.” They both said in unison. 

———-

Your POV

It has been a couple of weeks since the boys were born, you and Bradley were starting to adjust to their daily routine. On the days that Bradley was gone for physical therapy, you had Austin to lean on for some help. 

~~~~

You came home from your check up appointment with the doctor. Bradley was off today and watched the kids while you were out. When you came home you were thrown off with a surprise. Bradley was carrying both of the boys in his arms with Leia clinging onto his back dancing around the kitchen to I Was Made For Lovin’ You by Kiss. 

Him and Leia were singing to the boys as he was dancing around. “I was made for lovin’ you babies! You were made for lovin’ me! And I can’t get enough of you babies!”

You gasped as you put your purse on the counter. “Bradley and Leia Rey Bradshaw.” They both looked at you with wide eyes as they stopped singing mid-sentence and stopped dancing. 

“Uh Oh, daddy.” Leia hopped off of Bradley’s back and smiled at you awkwardly. “hi momma.”

You started to laugh as you walked over and kissed her head. “Leia Rey.” You squinted your eyes and walked over to Bradley. He was cradling the boys in his arms and standing completely still. “Bradley Nicolas Bradshaw.” You clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth, “What do we have here?” You laughed and shook your head as you grabbed Luke from Bradley’s arms. 

“Hello, sweetheart.” Bradley already knew you were going to scold him. 

“Bradley. You are still recovering and you have all three kids clinging to you.” You kissed Luke on his forehead making him smile. 

“Sweetheart.” Bradley cleared his throat, “I am fine. I promise.”

You raised your brows and squinted your eyes at him. “I know you are, but I need you to be extra careful. Especially if you want to fly again, babe.”

Bradley smiled and chuckled. “Baby. That is why we are dancing.” 

You raised one brow and look up at him as you placed another kiss on Luke’s head. Leia came over and wrapped her arms around you. “Momma. Daddy got cleared to fly.” She said in a little whisper.

You gasped and held Luke’s head to your chest as you covered his ear. “BRADLEY!” Your mouth was in a wide smile and you started to bounce up and down. “REALLY!?”

He started to laugh as he nodded his head. “OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD!” 

You bit your lip and smiled at him. “YESSSS!”

He shook his head as he was laughing. He grabbed Luke from your grasp and cradled him next to baby Bradley. “I start ground training tomorrow. Gonna start going through the exercises to get me ready for flying again.” 

You put your hands over your mouth, “YES FINALLY!” You jumped around with Leia, “well crank up the music! We are celebrating again!” 

————-

Bradley’s POV  

It was my first official day back at work. I woke up at 0400, so that I could feed the boys and then get ready. They were both fast asleep. I went to the mini fridge in the corner of the room that we had set up. I grabbed two bottles of your milk and placed them in the mini micro above the fridge to nuke it. As they warmed up I grabbed little Brad from his bassinet. I bounced him in my arms gave him kisses. I laid him on my empty side of the bed as I went and grabbed Luke from his bassinet. After I laid them down together, I went and grabbed the bottles. I checked the temperature for both before placing them into their mouths. 

I got on my knees on the floor by the edge of the bed as I held both bottles to the boys’ mouths. “You boys are getting so big. It’s ridiculous. Please stop growing. Daddy wants you boys to stay babies forever.” I let out a little chuckle, “Before I know it, you boys are gonna wanna go flying with Papa Mav. Just like your big sister Leia.” 

I watched them with tears in my eyes as they finished their bottles. I picked them both up and placed them on my chest as I sat against the headboard of the bed. I began to burp them, burping was an understatement. They both belch like grown men. After their burping, I changed their diapers and placed them back into their bassinets. I kissed each of them as they fell back to sleep. 

“Daddy loves you so much, boys.” 

I started to get ready for work.

~~~~

After cleaning up, I put on my whites and opted for the short sleeve shirt. I grabbed my hat and held it between my arm and waist. I went and placed a kiss on your head. “I’m leaving now, baby. I’ll see you tonight. I love you.”

You opened your eyes and smiled. “I’ll miss you, Brad. Have a good day and be safe please. I love you so much.” You reached your arms up and gave me a hug. 

“The boys are fed and changed. So get some sleep, babe.” I moved your hair from your face and gave you another kiss. “Bye, baby. I love you.”

You waved bye to me as I left the room. I went and gave our sleeping Leia a kiss. Then met with Phoenix and Hangman downstairs. 

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” Hangman had a smirk on his face while he sipped his coffee. “Looking good, Rooster.” He held his mug up to me and winked. 

“Seresin. Good morning.” I chuckled as Phoenix handed me a mug.

“Are you ready for today, Bradshaw?” She smiled as she sipped her coffee. 

I sighed and sipped my coffee, “More than ready. I’ve been waiting for this moment for nearly 6 months. I hope I can get back in the pit before we are sent back to San Diego.” 

Hangman nodded his head. “Well, you have plenty of time to get into the pit. I have confidence you’ll get in there, but if you can’t, you always have more time in San Diego. Take your time and don’t rush it. Take it day by day, Rooster. We are all here for you.” 

“Thanks you guys. I definitely will get a feel for it today. See how it goes from here. But today is day one.” 

They both patted me on the back and we all put our mugs away. “Well then, let’s go and start day one.”

————-

Your POV 

It was your first full day of watching the boys and Leia solo without Bradley. Thankfully you had Austin who was helping occasionally, but you ultimately wanted to try on your own. It went smoothly, a couple of blowouts from Luke, but nothing out of the normal. You looked over at the clock and it was 4:30. 

Austin was making dinner with Leia, as you laid the boys down for their nap. “They should all be home soon, huh darlin?” Austin asked as he munched on a carrot. 

You nodded and wrapped your arms around Leia. “Yup! Give them another 30 and they’ll be here.” You laid on Leia’s shoulder. “Thank you for helping with your brothers today, babe. You helped mommy so much.” You kissed her cheek over and over again as she stirred dinner and giggled. 

“You’re welcome momma. I love helping with my brothers!” 

Austin patted her head and smiled at you. “Best sister ever.” You and him laughed as they continued dinner. 

~~~~

Bradley, Phoenix, and Jake finally made it home. They all came in laughing. Austin went over to greet them as you and Leia finished setting the table. You could hear Austin shushing everyone as they came into the dinning area. The boys were still asleep for their nap. 

“Where are my boys?” Bradley whispered as he came over and gave you and Leia a kiss on the head. 

“They’re asleep in their bassinets.” You looked over in their direction. Their bassinets were set up by the couches. 

Bradley went and washed his hands before he made his way over to the boys. Phoenix and Jake followed behind. They all went to give the boys kisses as they slept. Phoenix and Jake came over to the table to start eating with Leia and Austin. 

You walked over to Bradley and laid your head against his shoulder. “Look at ‘‘em sleep, Brad.”

You smiled as you caressed baby Brad's cheek. 

“They’re perfect. Just like you and Leia Rey.” He gave both of them kisses before he turned to you and smiled. “Thank you for this life baby. I wouldn’t be here without you.” 

You smiled and he held your face in his hands. “Thank you for coming back and loving me like we never parted. I love you, always.”

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Besties, I suck at proofreading, please let me know if I left any *Hazes* in there. It was gonna be a nickname for Baby Brad but I changed my mind LOL. Buuuut AAAHHH! Godparents! The boys are so lucky to have them all in their lives 🥰 I'll see you all in the next chapter! 💕

The boys' godparents are in the comments 🥰

[tongue-like-a-razor]

Congrats on 4000 bb!! Well deserved!

And a forced proximity prompt list? Don’t mind if I do 😉 Could we get Rooster teaching you how to do something?

Ahh thank you so much, darling! Here ya go, hope you like it <3

4K Celebration Drabbles

Worth it

Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

“My hand hurts,” you groan, letting go of the fretboard and wiggling your fingers.

“You’ll get used to it.” Rooster chuckles, taking your hand between his palms as if he means to soothe it with their warmth.

“Get used to the pain?” you ask with a grimace. “I don’t think I want to.”

“No, I mean, it won’t hurt forever,” he assures you. “Try again.”

You sigh, curling your hand around the neck once more. “Where does my pinky go again?” you ask, feeling your hand cramping already.

“Bottom string, third fret,” Rooster says patiently.

You wince as your entire forearm shakes with effort. “How?”

Rooster cups the bottom of your hand and places your finger on the string. “See?” he says. “Easy.”

“Sure, if you hold it there for me.”

Rooster laughs and lets go of your hand. “Okay, now strum.”

You drag the pick down the strings one by one and all but two produce a muted sound. You whimper. “This is too hard.”

Rooster reaches forward to lift the side of your hand off the fretboard and then presses gently on your pinky. You wince as the bottom string cuts into your fingertip. “Ow!”

“Sorry,” he says. “Try now.”

You strum again and, this time, the guitar actually makes a sound. You beam excitedly. “Yay!” you exclaim and Rooster grins.

“Perfect G-chord,” he says proudly.

You laugh and shake out your hand. “This isn’t worth it,” you say, blowing on your fingertips.

Rooster chuckles and takes your hand again. Then he kisses the tips of your fingers. “Better?” he asks.

You purse your lips, suddenly completely disinterested in your boyfriend’s guitar. “A little,” you say.

Rooster’s smile widens and he kisses your palm. “Now?”

“Umm, I think I might have gotten a neck cramp,” you say, tilting your head to the side.

Rooster laughs, pulling on your hand, “Where, baby?” he mutters softly, leaning over the guitar still sitting on your lap.

“Just, like, maybe on my lips,” you respond.

Rooster’s face buries into your neck as he snorts with laughter. He kisses all the way up your neck and then gives you gentle kiss on your lips. “I didn’t realize that this was such a dangerous activity,” he mutters, pulling the guitar off your lap.

“It should come with a warning,” you agree, wrapping your arms around his neck as he leans his guitar against a wall. Rooster draws you closer on the couch as you nuzzle your head into his shoulder. “Was I a good student?” you ask quietly. Rooster gives you a kiss on the forehead. “The best, baby.”

4k Celebration

[thatlovinfeelin]

He Don't Like The Lights |Bradley Rooster Bradshaw Actor AU| Two

“Here’s another beer.”

“Can I ask you something?” Bradley questioned. 

“Sure, don’t see why not.”

“Why are you working here?” He questioned.

You laughed and took a step towards him, “This seemed as good a place as any. The pay isn’t horrible when you factor in the tips I usually make. It’s not as bad as it seems.”

“But if you could go anywhere else, where would you go?” He asked, seeming serious. 

You merely shrugged, “A city. Like a big city. Somewhere new, I’ve only ever been in Virginia.”

He nodded and took a swig of beer, “The rest of the country isn’t as impressive as you’d think. But I understand wanting to be somewhere other than here.”

“‘Well, you can say that. You’ve been everywhere,” You laughed, “All over the world.” 

He nodded, and shoveled another forkful of mac into his mouth. He let out a moan, which caused your cheeks to turn pink. You liked that sound, and truthfully you wanted to hear more of it. It made you wonder what other sounds he could make. 

“This shit is amazing,” He groaned, “I think this beats what my mom used to make for me.” 

“Well now, let’s not diss a mama’s cooking,” You joked, “Just holler if you need anything okay? I’ll leave you to enjoy your meal.”

“Hey wait!” He called, reaching for your arm, “I have a….favor to ask you.”

“Okayy….”

“This is going to sound strange, but I get the feeling that you aren’t a total psycho,” He stated, “I was supposed to bring my girlfriend home to meet my parents. But I broke up with her, and I haven’t told them yet. Could I convince you to join me?”

“I’m sorry, you want me to pretend to be your girlfriend and meet your parents?” You questioned. 

“Yeah, pretty much. I know it sounds crazy.”

“Crazy? Try insane! I could be anyone, I’m literally just some random waitress and you want me to come home with you and play house?”

“You could say no.”

“And yet, I don’t want to say no,” You shrugged.

“So you’ll do it?” He smirked, like he knew he was getting his way. 

“Meh, why not,” You shrugged, “I’ve been looking for ways to spice up my life a little. Playing girlfriend to a world famous actor seems like a good way to do it.”

He let out a laugh and snagged a pen from your apron, “Here’s my number, try to resist giving it to everyone? Why don’t you shoot me a text so I have yours too.”” 

“Oh don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”

The following day, you were running around your bathroom trying to get ready. Celeste was on the couch in the living room, pigging out on three day old pizza while watching old reruns of Nashville. She looked like a slob, like she often did when you had days off together, but you couldn’t not when Bradley was coming to get you. 

“Hey so I need you not to freak out,” You told Celeste as you fluffed your hair again. 

“What’s going on?”

“So that single table from last night?” She nodded as you chewed on your lip, “That was sort of Bradley Bradshaw, and he’s on his way here now to pick me up for a….date.”

Celeste sputtered, “Sounded like you said a date.”

“I did.”

“You’re lying. This is some cruel joke.” 

“I wish I was C.” 

The knock on your door caused you to panic slightly. You turned around and looked in the mirror again, deciding your lipstick was the wrong color. Panicking even more, you turned around and ran back into your bathroom, yelling at Celeste as you did. 

“Can you get that? Please?” 

You could hear Celeste sigh and get up from the couch before unlocking the door. You wished Bradley would’ve waited outside like you originally told him to. You didn’t want him to see your shit apartment, but he insisted on coming up to the door and getting you. 

You heard the second she opened the door and realized who was on the other side. Because the door slammed shut followed by a scream. 

“HOLY FUCK!” She yelled, “HOOOLLLY SHIT!”

You ran out of the bathroom again, sliding in a fresh pair of earrings, “Open the damned door, C!” You hiss at her. 

“That’s Bradley fucking BRADSHAW!” She hissed back, “I just slammed the door in Bradley Bradshaw’s face. Oh my god. Holy fucking shit. He’s outside.”

“Yes, which is why we need to open the door!” You groaned, pushing past her, “Hey, I’m sorry about her,” You said, swinging the door back open. 

“No harm done,” He laughed, “I take it that was Celeste?” 

You sigh and nod, “Yeah that was her.”

“Oh my god he knows my name,” Celeste seemed to be hyperventilating behind you. 

“Is she okay?” He asked you, pointing to C. 

You shook your head, “No, she won’t recover from this one, I’m afraid.” 

“Anything I can do?”

“Just get me out of here,” You laughed, “She’ll come to again once we leave.”

He laughed and held out his hand for you. You took it and smiled at him, feeling a zap of energy as you did so. You needed to keep your head on straight, this was just a one time deal. You were going to help him out with his parents and he’d go back to LA and forget all about this. You would get the ability to say you met Bradley Bradshaw, maybe get a picture or two with him and it would be something to tell the kids one day. 

He walked you out to his rental car, which was more nondescript than you expected. You thought he would be driving something like a Porsche or a Corvette but instead he was driving a slightly beat up pickup truck, which looked like it was going to be retired from the fleet soon enough. 

But he seemed to be at home in the car. He knew his way around it, didn’t seem to miss a beat as he started driving down the road. His parents lived in Virginia Beach, not far from the base. Bradley said that’s where they lived from the time he was born, aside from a few short years in California. Which was where Bradley fell in love with acting. 

You learned a lot about him during that short drive. Like he was giving you a crash course, so you could keep up and act like you were madly in love with him. You gave him details about your life too, how you’d grown up in Norfolk, the daughter of shipyard workers. How you went to college but haven’t used your degree. You were an only child, but always had animals growing up, including a bunny. Bradley laughed at that. He could somehow imagine you as a little girl snuggling with a bunny. 

“My mom is a little much,” He warned as he pulled in the driveway of a quaint little house, “Dad is chill, you’ll probably love them.”

“How much is a little much?” You questioned. 

“She’s just protective, and energetic,” he explained, “You’ll survive though. I’m sure you’ve dealt with worse at the bar.” 

He helps you out of the car, and walks you to the door with his hand on the small of your back. It feels like how a relationship should be. You felt nervous as you walked up to the door. He winked at you before knocking. It took all of two seconds before the door swung open to reveal a small woman with graying blonde hair.

“Bradley!” She cheered, grabbing him and hugging him tightly, “And you must be the girlfriend we know nothing about.” 

“Um.”

“Ignore her,” An older man said, stepping into view, “She’s in mom mode.” 

“This is Y/N,” Bradley said, wrapping his arms around you. 

“I’m Carole, this is Nick but everyone calls him Goose,” The woman stated, kissing the man’s cheek. 

“I take it that’s from your days in the Navy?” You questioned. 

“Ah, so he did tell you a few things,” Goose laughed, “We used to call Bradley here, Rooster when he was a kid. His hair would always stick up like a rooster’s tail.”

“Aww, Rooster, that’s cute,” You coo, hugging Bradley a little tighter. 

You couldn’t tell if it was too much or not. You’d never fake dated anyone before, but you figured laying it on thick couldn’t hurt. Bradley just smiled and kissed the top of your head.You had to be playing the part right, because he squeezed your side affectionately. Which made Mrs.Bradshaw smile as she ushered you both into the house. 

She started talking about how she cooked Bradley’s favorite for dinner, and she hoped you were hungry because she made extra, as always. She made a joke about how much Bradley could eat when he actually let himself and wasn’t on a diet for some sort of movie. Adding that you had to know all about that. 

You laughed and told her that you took him to your favorite restaurant on the boardwalk and got him hooked on Pulled Pork Mac N Cheese. She just said that sounded like her boy. 

Meanwhile, Mr. Bradshaw and Bradley seemed to be doing their own sort of catching up. They clapped each other on the shoulder and disappeared into the side room, leaving you alone with Carole. You swallowed thickly and tried your best to keep up. But you felt like you were in over your head. You knew next to nothing about Bradley, save for what you read on the internet and what he told you on the way here and last night over text. But even still you knew nothing that a real girlfriend would know. 

It made you panic slightly. Because you felt like she would find out. Like she would see right through you in a heartbeat. Like it was only a matter of time. 

“Rude of him to leave you alone like that,” She shook her head, “I thought I raised him better than that. But whenever he sees his dad…well we almost lost Goose when Bradley was younger. The two of them have a bond I could never understand. So it’s always special when they’re able to spend time together.” 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know that,” You’re stunned with the way she said it so casually. 

“Brad doesn’t like to talk about it. Goose was in a training accident, it was a real scare for all of us.”

“Well I’m glad he’s okay.”

“So am I, I don’t know what I would do without him,” Carole sighed, leaning against the kitchen counter, “So do you want to tell me where he found you? Because honey, you seem very sweet, but I know you aren’t dating my son.”

Well….you were fucked.

[familyvideostevie]

Omggggggg I’m the anon who called you emmy im emma-barrassed (bye)

I have an apology request if you will consider!! For roosty - what about the first time you call him bradley? Like you’ve known him as rooster for whatever reason and then in all the flirty banter that comes pre-relationship, bradley slips out and for him it ✨feels fuzzy✨ idk I think you have such a talent for writing in the non reader pov in complete sincerity bye ily emmA

please don't be embarrassed!! :) this request was so fun and i think i went way overboard with it. but here you go! | fem!reader, fluff, pre-relationship, 1.6k

It's Natasha who brings you around. Phoenix has a much healthier social life than the rest of them and more non-Navy friends than Rooster, Hangman, and Bob combined. 

Actually, Bradley isn't totally sure about Bob. The man manages to be a mystery, even still. 

Not the point. Phoenix brings you to a night out and Bradley almost chokes on his beer. You trail behind her as you walks over to the group, looking like the prettiest thing he's ever seen. He's flown over mountain ranges and seen the Northern Lights twice and felt the cool kiss of sea air after he thought he'd die in the sky but even still, you seem to rewire his entire brain. He wonders if this is what his dad felt like when he saw his mom.

His heart races in his chest and he wills himself to keep it cool. You're meeting a bunch of navy guys for the first time and he'll be damed if he pulls a Hangman and tries to pick you up right away. 

He just wants to know your name. And your phone number. But that can wait.

"Alright, assholes, listen up," Phoenix calls. "Fall in." There are eye rolls and snickers but everyone shifts so that you have a clear view of the group. "Coyote, Payback, Fanboy, Bob, who you've met before, Hangman, and Rooster." Your gaze goes down the line as she introduces everyone -- Bob gets a smile from you and damn, Bradley wants to be on the receiving end of one of those -- and when Phoenix tells you his callsign, he salutes. You huff a laugh. "They all have real names, but you have to talk to them for those."

"Welcome to beer night, civilian," Hangman says. Bradley fights the urge to roll his eyes. "Gonna tell us who you are?"

He has to hand it to you -- you don't look nervous to be with a new group of people at all. You speak for the first time, telling everyone your name and Bradley swallows at the sound of it. Pretty name for a pretty girl. 

"Now the real question," says Bob, "is what you're having to drink."

You come around to most of the group gatherings after that, becoming close with some of the girlfriends and making sure to chat with the guys, too. Bradley doesn't want to get his hopes up, but he thinks you talk to him the most. About music, his car, your job, flying. Anything at all, you can turn it into an hours-long conversation with him. 

Not only that, but he knows you're flirting with him. Well, he's pretty sure. And obviously, he's flirting with you. Your hand is always on his arm, his shoulder, his elbow. He's almost positive you look at his lips a fair amount when you're talking. But, most importantly, you seem to feel comfortable around him, moving in and out of his space without hesitation, handing him your drink when you got the bathroom. At the very least you like him enough to trust him. 

There's just one hangup. You only ever call him Rooster.

That is probably mostly his fault. He's never actually told you his name is Bradley, though he knows you know it, since you've heard the others use it. Maybe you think he doesn't want you to call him that. 

But then. Oh, but then. 

Tonight is another regular beer night. Bradley is holding your drink because Phoenix beckoned you off to the bathroom for what looked like some urgent business he does not need to know about. His eyes scan the room out of habit and he wonders if anyone would be down to get some food at the drive-thru down the road. He's DD tonight and man, he's hungry.

"Bradley," someone says. He blinks once, twice, because he's swears that's your voice, and then your hand is on his elbow and it really is you. His stomach feels like he's flying upside down. His name sounds totally new from your mouth. He loves it.

"Yeah?" he says, looking at you. Phoenix is nowhere to be found and you look...nervous? He's not seen this expression of yours before. It makes the swooping in his stomach turn sour. "Hey, are you okay?"

You soften at his concern. God, you're pretty. "I'm fine," you say. "It's just --" You look over your shoulder and he sees Phoenix leaving the bar with someone she's clearly taking home. "You're DD, right?"

"For anyone who needs a ride, yeah," he says. "And it looks like your ride just left. Damn, good for her." You laugh and Bradley relishes the sound. 

"Do you mind driving me home? When you want to leave, I mean?" He realizes he's still holding your drink and he holds it out for you to take. Your fingers brush his and he fights the urge to run his thumb over the back of your hand. 

"'Course I don't mind," he says. "Y'know, I'm kind of hungry. Maybe you finish that and we go get something to eat?"

"I'll do you one better." You hold up a finger, telling him to wait, and turn to look for someone in the crowd. "Hey, Hangman!" you call. Seresin appears moments later, smirk firmly in place. 

"How can I help you, my dear?" Bradley doesn't hide his eye roll this time. You hold out your beer.

"Bradley and I are leaving," you tell him. Hangman's eyebrows disappear into his hairline, but he takes your beer. His eyes bounce between the two of you, but you don't back down from the implication that you're leaving...together. Bradley tries to squash the unnecessary and unwarranted male pride he feels. 

"Are you now," Hangman drawls. "Well, alright then. You kids have fun." He takes a sip of your beer and inclines his head at Bradley just a bit. 

"Does everyone else have a ride?" Bradley calls. The rest of the crew nod, and he guides you out of the bar with a light hand on your back. 

"Thank you," you tell him once you're outside. "Natasha said you'd say yes, but I didn't want to assume." He wants to tell you he'd drive to the other side of the damn country if you asked him to.

"You're a good wingwoman," he says instead. But he can't help himself. "I'll always give you a ride home." You flash him a shy smile and he returns it. You called him Bradley. "You want to get some food?"

You hop into the Bronco. "Hell yeah I do, Bradshaw." It's actually embarrassing how his heart skips a beat this time. He waits for you to click your seatbelt before he backs out of the parking lot.

"So, give me the details on this guy Phoenix left with. If that's allowed." You turn your entire body to face him before launching into the story of how she met him a few weeks ago and actually he's been texting her and Bradley doesn't reallyhear all of the details because he just likes to listen to your voice. God, he wishes he could look at you properly. You talk with your hands and chew on your lip as you try to recall specifics. He thinks he might be obsessed with you.

"This is nice," you say suddenly, and he realizes the story is over. He turns to look at you for half a second and finds you staring out the window. "Hanging out, just us. We should do it more often." You sound soft, maybe even a little unsure. 

"You think so?" he says lightly. You turn back to look at him and he eyes you as he drives. Your eyes on him feel like a trail of fire. He almost pulls over so he can hold your gaze.

"I do," you say softly. He hums, unable to stop his mouth from curling up at the edges. He taps his thumbs on the steering wheel again.

"Me too," he says. "Anytime you want." He means it.

"I'll hold you to it, Bradley," you say. He pulls to a stop at the red light just before the drive-thru and turns to look at you. You've got mischief in your eyes. Oh, now he's sure you've been using his name on purpose. 

"Wanna explain that?" he says, dipping his chin and raising his eyebrows. You turn away from him and tilt your nose up in the air. 

"Explain what?" you say primly. You're going to make him work for it, make him admit that he likes it. He finds that he doesn't mind. 

"You've always called me Rooster." The light changes but there's no one behind him so he doesn't move for a few seconds so you'll look at him again. You do. He feels his breath catch and he has to swallow.. "Why the change?"

"Bradley, the light," you say. He turns back to the road and drives. The air in the cab of the Bronco shifts suddenly and from the corner of his eye he sees you steel yourself and reach out slowly, ever so slowly, to brush back some of the fringe that's fallen on his forehead before pulling back.

He inhales sharply. "I wanted to try it out," you say. He turns into the drive-thru lane and pulls behind the few cars in line. "Is it ok?"

Now that the car is fully stopped, he shifts in his seat to turn to you. He loves the dance, he loves the chase, he loves this push and pull, but more than anything he wants what's next. So he decides to lay all of his cards on the table. "Sweetheart," he says. Your eyes widen. "I think you could call me anything you wanted and I'd like it."

"I'll keep that in mind," you say. And then the tension snaps and you burst in to laughter, reaching out to rest a hand on his bicep as you do so. He catches your giggles, feeling lighter than he has in ages. Yeah, he thinks. This is just the beginning. 

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, masterlist here!

[roosterbruiser]

I'M SORRY MILLIE

A JAKE FEAST AND BRADLEY KISS

I'm seated

your boyfriend is holding you tight against his body, his palms rough on the underside of your thighs as he holds your quivering legs open. you're a mess--writhing, panting, keening, moaning, crying.

on his knees before you, situated very comfortably between your legs, is Jake. he's lapping at your cunt like a starved man--wrapping his lips around your clit and pressing his rigid tongue into your opening, reaching up to tweak your nipples. he's watching you through his lashes, watching the way he makes you feel. and he hasn't ever been harder than he is now: going down on you--Rooster's girlfriend.

Rooster is hard, too, still fully clothed as he secures you against his body. but you can feel how uncomfortably hard he is, his erection pressing into the flesh of your ass.

"good girl," Bradley coos, taking a quivering breath when you dig your nails into his thighs. "fuck, is that good, baby?"

nodding rapidly, you moan out. pleasure is engulfing your body like boiling water--you feel like your skin is going to sizzle off.

"c'mere," Bradley pants, releasing one of your thighs to grab hold of your chin.

he smashes his lips against yours, muffles your moans against his lips. and because Jake likes to tease, he laps at you ravenously--hardly giving you room to breathe as he helps you chase that high, placing his open palm on your thigh to replace Bradley's grip.

"fuck," you cry against Bradley's lips. "Bradley, please, I--!"

"cry to him," Bradley insists, nodding to Jake.

Jake's cock throbs at the words.

"Jake," you whine, entire body taut as you screw your eyes shut and squeeze your fists close. "please--God, fuck, please make me cum."

Jake likes you--obviously--has always crushed on you a little bit. so imagine his surprise that he was invited here tonight to act out one of yours and Bradley's mutual fantasies. when this all started, he was sure the this was his one shot to get with you--but now that he sees you here, desperate and whining, bucking your hips against his mouth and chin while Bradley watches the both of you with hooded eyes and red cheeks, Jake knows he's more than proved himself worthy.

"whatcha think, Bradshaw?" Jake asks, momentarily moving away from your core to nibble on the sensitive skin of your thighs.

"don't I always give her what she wants?" Bradley asks, licking his lips.

[hangsterweek]

🎉 Hangster Week prompts are here! 🎉

Get ready to unleash your creativity because we're excited to announce the SFW and NSFW prompts for our upcoming event!

From August 7th to 13th, unleash your creativity and make a creative BOOM for Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw/Jake "Hangman" Seresin!

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Be sure to check out our posting guidelines (click here) so we can all have a fun and safe #HangsterWeek2023!

See you soon, aviators!

[t-nd-rfoot]

BRADLEY 'ROOSTER' BRADSHAW fanfiction by t-nd-rfoot

BACK TO NAVIGATION

ONE-SHOTS

Sensations When Bradley loves, he feels it everywhere.

[roosterforme]

Wild Rooster Chase | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley thinks about you more than he should, and his feelings for you run deeper than they ought to. You've never given him an indication that you want to take the teasing touches and playful flirtation to the next level, so he never pressed his luck. When you surprise him by sending a text message that could change everything, he's ready to chase you all over San Diego for some answers.

Warnings: adult language, fluff, angst, drinking

Length: 5700 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Banner by @thedroneranger

"What are you ladies doing here?" Bradley asked as you walked in with Halo and Phoenix on either side of you. "Thought tonight was the bachelorette party?"

"The Hard Deck is our first stop of the evening," you informed him as you planted your palm on his chest with a smirk, and he let you push him away from the bar. "We couldn't miss out on letting you guys see how nicely we clean up."

"Oh yeah?" he asked, as if he wasn't actively ogling you in your mini dress and high heels. He'd never been one to hide it, and he'd never been one to check out the other two, either. But that didn't mean he was going to act on it, because he was absolutely convinced this was just a game for you. One that he loved participating in. One that he knew was never going to go anywhere real.

"Yeah," you verified with a laugh. "We look hot."

"An indisputable fact," he whispered as he pretended like you were actually pushing him further out of your way. He'd move wherever you wanted him to, as long as you just kept touching him.

"Shoo," you scolded, looking up at him as your knee bumped his leg. "I need to buy some drinks, and you're in my way."

He covered your hand with his big one and immediately stopped moving. "Nice try, Blaze," he said with a grin as you attempted and failed to get him to budge more. "But I'm definitely buying you all a round for Callie's big night." He tossed his credit card onto the bar and draped one arm around Halo and the other around you before leaning in close to you and whispering, "And you always look nice. Even in your flight suits."

"What can I get for you ladies? And Rooster?" Penny asked, cutting him off just as he had you rolling your eyes. "Wait... he's not going out for Halo's bachelorette night, is he?"

"Absolutely not," you told her, tilting your head to look up at him with a devilish grin that made him a little nervous. His arm was still heavy across your shoulders as you said, "He's just here to buy us three Johnnie Walkers. Blue Label. Neat." 

"What?" His voice was strangled, and his eyes were wide. "That's over a hundred bucks!"

"But it's what we want. Isn't it, ladies?" you asked Halo and Phoenix as you tried not to laugh.

"It is," Halo confirmed. "And I'm the one getting married next weekend." 

When Bradley moaned and nodded at Penny, you gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Thanks, Rooster. You're the sweetest."

"You mean I'm a sucker," he said, finally releasing both of you. "So where are you headed after this?"

Halo accepted her expensive Scotch as she said, "Cowboy Star for a steak dinner."

Bradley snorted. "Don't forget to take Jake with you," he said, nodding to where the other guys were hanging out near the dart board. 

"No boys allowed," you reminded him. "Especially not since we're taking Halo to Cheetahs after dinner."

"Strippers?" he asked as you picked up your Johnnie Walker. "Looking at hot, naked chicks? Sounds fun. What else?"

"Dancing at Pleasure Town!" Phoenix said, taking the last Scotch and holding it up. You and Halo both tapped your glasses to hers.

"Thanks, Rooster!" you said before taking a sip. He just shook his head as you pressed your lips to the glass, but a few seconds later, he ran his index finger along your arm and leaned a little closer again.

"Hey, you call or text me if you need anything, okay? I'll keep my phone on all night for you girls."

A chill seemed to run through your body, and just the mere thought of you calling him in the middle of the night left his mouth dry with need.

You chewed on your lip and looked up at him. "I'll let you know if I need you."

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

I'll let you know if I need you.

Bradley couldn't stop thinking about that sentence. If you ever told him you needed or even wanted him for anything, he'd be there instantly. He wasn't afraid to admit to himself that he'd had a crush on you from the first day you arrived at Top Gun. He was sure you knew it, too. But there were some things he just didn't want to mess with. Your call sign was Blaze for a reason, after all. Too fucking hot to handle. Too damn enticing to be interested in him.

So he did what he always did on Saturday nights. Found the second cutest girl at the bar and tried his luck. 

It was two hours later and three drinks in with the redhead, and he knew he could probably get as lucky as he wanted to. Her hand was on his thigh, inching closer to the hem of his tropical print shirt, and she was all smiles.

"Let's play something on the jukebox," she told him, and he agreed as he followed after her. To his dismay, she picked your favorite song, and now he was having a bit of a hard time staying focused on the task at hand as she tucked herself against the wall and pulled him closer by his shirt.

"You like this song?" he asked, glancing at the jukebox like he expected you to be standing there. 

She shrugged and said, "Not really. I just pushed some random buttons," with a little giggle. "Now, come here."

Alright, so her lips were soft, and her tongue tasted like bourbon. She placed his hands on her hips, and he gave a little test squeeze which resulted in her tongue in his mouth. But the song was pulling up some other memories of you and him dancing together on New Year's Eve. When he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, it was almost a relief to pull away.

"Hey," she complained, reaching for him as he unlocked his phone. "I'm over here, Rooster."

"Sorry," he muttered, looking at her briefly, but he really wasn't. The text he got was from you. He held up one finger and took a step back as he opened it up. 

Blaze: Full disclosure, I'm drunk. And I'll probably regret this in the morning, but... I think about kissing you all the time.

"What the fuck?" Bradley said out loud as his eyes scanned the message again. It was a joke. It had to be. Or else he was reading it wrong? "Holy shit."

When he finally looked up, the redhead was pouting with her arms crossed. He needed another opinion, and he'd already lost interest in her anyway. He held up his phone and asked, "What does this mean?"

He watched her eyes as she read it, and a little crease appeared on her forehead. "It says get a life, jerk." She went walking off toward her friends as Bradley looked around for someone else to help him out. The guys were all playing pool and darts, but he didn't trust them as far as he could throw them anyway.

"Hey, Penny," he called out, cutting off several people who were trying to order drinks. He leaned all the way across the bar top to where she was pouring a martini. "Tell me I'm not losing my mind."

When he held up his phone, she squinted at the screen, and then her eyes went wide as she smiled at him. "I think someone overdid it and finally stated the obvious."

He was sweating now, afraid he was going to get this all wrong. "Like you think this is actually how she feels?"

She laughed and handed off the martini before pouring some wine. "Well, I don't want to speculate on someone else's behalf..."

"Bartenders are supposed to speculate," he told her, ready to climb over the bar and chase her down as she turned away from him to serve the wine. "It's your god given obligation."

She glanced at him over her shoulder. "Well, then, merely speculating, I would say that the way the two of you cozy up with each other seems a little more than platonic."

He shook his head. "No, that's probably just me you're reading in the scenario." But she was shaking her head back and forth as well. "It's her, too?" Now she was nodding as she reached for a pint glass. "Like she might actually want to make something happen here?"

"Speculation," Penny told him. "But I think you should find out for sure."

He could call you. He pushed himself away from the bar, found a nice, quieter corner, and he tapped your number in his phone.

'Hi, it's me. I can't answer my phone, probably because I'm flying a seventy million dollar aircraft at the moment. Leave a message.'

"Damn it," he groaned, already thinking about how nice it would be to sling his arm around your shoulders and lean all the way in next time. Let his lips meet yours instead of hitting the brakes like he'd trained himself to do. "Wait!" he said to nobody in particular now that he'd walked away from Penny. "Cowboy Star!"

Bradley had the fortitude to keep his phone out and use the rideshare app he had downloaded. He was definitely not sober enough to do this in the Bronco, and he couldn't stop fantasizing about your song playing on the jukebox while he had your body pressed up against the wall. He needed to get to you and get some questions answered. 

He chose the closest driver in the app, and while he was waiting for Julian in his white Toyota Camry to arrive, he read your text again.

Blaze: Full disclosure, I'm drunk. And I'll probably regret this in the morning, but... I think about kissing you all the time.

"Is she so serious right now?" he asked the night air as he waited in the parking lot. "Is she so fucking serious about this? I think about it, too!  A lot!" he practically shouted as he responded to your text.

Blaze, call me back. Are you talking about a kiss on the cheek? Or something more? We need to discuss ASAP.

"Hey, are you Bradley?"

He looked up to see the white Toyota was just sitting there. You had his head so messed up at the moment, he hadn't even noticed it.

"Julian?"

"Yeah, man," the driver replied, and Bradley quickly climbed in the backseat. "You're heading to Cowboy Star?"

"Yeah," he grunted as he buckled his seatbelt.

"I love it there," he said as he pulled out onto the road that ran parallel to the beach. "My wife got me the porterhouse for my birthday."

Bradley stared at his phone screen, hoping you'd write back or call him. "I'm not actually going for dinner. I'm trying to find a girl."

Julian whistled and shook his head. "Man, you should have just stayed at that bar."

He tipped his head back and groaned. "It's a very specific girl. And she's out with some friends for a bachelorette party."

"You know dudes aren't really supposed to go to those things, right?"

Bradley rubbed his free hand across his face and said, "I know, but she sent me this text that is very thought provoking." 

"What's it say?"

He kind of felt like an idiot telling his story to his Uber driver, but he still wasn't sure he was understanding your words correctly. It just didn't make sense. 

"Julian, I am very firmly in the friend zone with this hot girl from work, and tonight she sent me this message: Full disclosure, I'm drunk. And I'll probably regret this in the morning, but... I think about kissing you all the time."

"Bro," Julian said as he hit the accelerator a little harder. "You're so in, man."

"Am I?" Bradley asked, squeezing his phone and wondering why you weren't calling him back. "Like, this girl is smoking hot. She's cool as hell, too. And we flirt a bit, but it never goes anywhere. And now she's not answering me."

"Just hang on." Julian went a little faster still. "I'll get you there so you can sweep her off her feet."

Bradley hung onto the door handle, not even sure he knew how to sweep you off your feet. What kinds of guys did you usually go for? He'd be lying if he said he never noticed that your last boyfriend kind of looked like him. And in general, you seemed to have a thing for guys with brown hair who were pretty tall. 

"Shit," he grunted, just torturing himself by imagining he could be the one holding your hand and making you laugh. "Are we almost there?"

"Hell yeah, dude. Next block up."

When Julian stopped at to the curb, Bradley lunged out onto the sidewalk as he shouted, "Thank you!"

"Good luck!"

The restaurant was absolutely packed, and even the line to talk to the host was long. After a few seconds, he simply walked to the front and cut everyone else off.

"Hey!" complained the woman who was now behind him as he cleared his throat and addressed the host. 

"Excuse me, but do you know if there are still three hot women here eating dinner together?" he asked the host who gave him a bland look. "They were all in tight little dresses. One was red, one was blue, and one was like a gold color. And one of them was wearing a bachelorette sash!"

"Oh," he replied with a little smirk. "Those three." Bradley didn't appreciate the way his little grin grew as he said, "Hot is certainly the right word to describe them."

"Are they still here?" he asked impatiently, trying to look past him into the dining room now.

"No. They left about an hour ago."

"Fuck," he groaned, pushing away from the podium and storming back outside into the night. He found a spot on the busy sidewalk where he could stand, and he tried to call you again. 

'Hi, it's me. I can't answer my phone, because I'm probably flying a seventy million dollar aircraft at the moment. Leave a message.'

He wanted to scream, but he calmly said, "Blaze, it's Rooster. Call me back." When he hung up, he opened the rideshare app again, and he luckily saw Julian on the map immediately and tapped on his little icon. "Come on, Julian," he muttered, already looking down the street for the trusty Toyota to make its return. "Yes!"

Bradley threw himself into the backseat once again as the driver asked, "That was quick, bro. What happened?"

"They already left for the strip club," he groaned.

"Cheetahs?" Julian asked, tapping at his own phone before he started driving again. "Not gonna pretend I've never been there before."

Bradley tried to call you again, and once again he got to hear your voice tell him you weren't available. "I just don't understand why she's telling me this now, you know? I've known her for almost two years."

"Two years in the friend zone? Bro, do you have no game?"

"Julian, do not test me right now," Bradley said with a laugh. He held up his thumb and index finger and added, "I was this close to sealing the deal with another girl at the Hard Deck when I got the text from her."

"Ohhhh. So you're in love with her. Understood, my man."

Bradley sat back against the seat and stared out the window as the city lights streaked past. In love. Was he? You always seemed too perfect to get involved with. But love? Is that why he never pushed for more? 

"Damn," he muttered. "Maybe." Was the fear of crashing and burning what was ultimately holding him back? 

That was when Julian pulled a slick u-turn and coasted into the parking lot of Cheetahs which was advertising fully nude girls. He should have been concerned that suddenly the only girl he wanted to see that way was you. "Thanks, Julian," he said as he hopped out and slammed the door closed.

"You got this!"

Well at least Julian thought he could pull off something impossible tonight.

"Whoa, I'm going to need to see some ID." 

Bradley realized that his path was suddenly blocked by an absolutely massive bouncer with a bushy beard. 

"Come on," he complained, digging his wallet out of his back pocket. "I'm thirty-five."

"No ID, no entrance."

"Yeah, yeah. Understood," he said trying to get his driver's license free as one of the strippers walked outside for a break. He craned his neck to see through the open door as the loud music filtered out before the door closed.

"Hey, Cherry," the bouncer grunted, and Bradley looked down at the stripper who was leaning against the wall wearing a pink wig, the tiniest g-string and some pasties. 

She was looking at Bradley a little skeptically as she replied, "Hey, Murph." She kicked a rock out into the parking lot as she told Bradley, "You're getting here awfully late. All of the private rooms have been reserved for the rest of the night."

"I'm not here for that. I'm just looking for some girls," he replied, waiting patiently while Murph inspected his ID.

"Yeah," she said with a laugh. "We've got plenty of those. The hottest ones in San Diego, if you believe the neon sign above your head."

"No," he told her, really not in the mood to recount his story again. "I'm looking for some women I work with."

Now Cherry looked downright unconvinced as she asked, "Are you a stripper?"

Bradley accepted his driver's license back and gave Cherry a hesitant look. "Well, no, I'm not."

"Didn't think so," she muttered, and Bradley stopped in his tracks before he even reached for the door handle.

"Excuse me?" he asked, giving her a much more scathing look. "What's that supposed to mean? I'd be a fantastic stripper."

She shook her head and adjusted her tiny underwear. "You don't have the right build for it."

Bradley burst out into sardonic laughter. "Cherry, you must be joking," he said as he tucked his wallet away and flexed his biceps. "I could totally be a stripper."

"What song would you dance to?" she asked in an accusatory tone. 

"Sweet Emotion," he told her immediately. Yeah, he'd thought about it before, and yeah, he knew he'd absolutely kill it up on stage. But she just made a face in response. "What's wrong with my song?"

"Nothing, I guess, but there's no way you'd be raking in the tip money."

Bradley pointed across the parking lot to Hard D Boys, the male club that was associated with Cheetahs, and said, "Just for that, I'm coming back for their open auditions night, because you have no idea what you're talking about." She shrugged, and he shook his head. "I don't have time for this. Have you seen three hot women? A red dress, a blue dress and a gold dress? Like short dresses?" he asked, tapping his thigh with his hand to indicate that your dress left little to his imagination. "They are like around this tall?" he added, sticking his hand in the air around your height.

"Sorry, Mr. Sweet Emotion, but I only take note of the biggest tippers."

Bradley groaned and pushed the door open, and the music was so loud, it wasn't even worth trying to ask the bartenders if they'd seen you. As soon as his eyes adjusted to the dark, he walked around the cavernous club, trying to locate you three, but it was mostly men. And then he had the disturbing thought that maybe some guys tried to pick you up.

"Why are you doing this to me, Blaze?" he whispered to himself as he walked back through every corner he could find. He even asked a woman to check if you were in the ladies' restroom. He came up empty handed again. 

"God damn it," he said once he was back outside with Murph.

"To be fair," Murph said as he lit up a cigarette, "I think you'd make an okay stripper."

"Thank you for that," Bradley told him sincerely as he tapped his rideshare app again, but then he heard a horn honking and looked up. It was Julian, hanging out his car window. He'd waited for him. 

"She's not here?"

"No, Julian. She's not here!" he said as he rushed toward the Toyota and climbed in.

"Well, where are we going next?"

Bradley closed his eyes and thought about what Phoenix had said earlier at the Hard Deck. "Pleasure Town. They were going dancing at Pleasure Town."

"On it," Julian told him and shifted into drive.

It was after midnight now. Pleasure Town wasn't too far away, but he'd be lucky to even find you in there on the weekend. But if he did, you'd be dancing like crazy with the biggest smile on your face, pretending you liked the music they were playing while you thought about your own playlists instead. You'd be drinking some neon colored cocktail and trying to talk the girls into leaving to get cookies from that place that was open all night. You'd maybe even be checking your phone and finally, finally texting him back.

"Yeah, you're right, Julian."

"About what, my man?"

Bradley rubbed his hands over his face. "I'm in love with her."

Julian reached his arm back at a red light, and Bradley fist bumped him. "Yeah, that's what I'm talking about! I could tell right away. Don't worry. We'll find her."

But it got harder to be hopeful the longer he was in the dance club. There was barely any room to walk around, and there were dozens of women in little dresses that looked like the one you were wearing, but none of them had your face or your smile. You weren't here. 

He stood on the dance floor and read your text one more time.

Full disclosure, I'm drunk. And I'll probably regret this in the morning, but... I think about kissing you all the time.

He wanted to know what kissing you would feel like. Now that you opened his mind to something more, he'd never be able to stop thinking about it. But this time, he let himself finally focus on the word regret in your message.You'd regret what you said in the morning. He knew you; he knew you would never go for the idea sober. But he texted you one more time anyway.

Blaze, please call me when you get this. It doesn't matter what time it is. Just call.

When he walked back out into the cool, night air, Julian was right there at the curb waiting with a hopeful look on his face. "Bro, is she here?" When Bradley didn't respond, his face melted into sadness. "Or did she say the 'just friends' shit?"

"She's not here," he replied, once again climbing in the back of the now familiar car.

"We going somewhere else now? The pursuit continues?"

Bradley grimaced and said, "I think I should just throw in the towel and regroup. Can you take me back to the Hard Deck? I'm definitely sober enough to drive home now."

But even Julian sounded disappointed now. "Of course, dude. Anything you want."

"Thanks," Bradley grunted, watching as the city lights faded a bit as they got closer to the beach. When Julian parked near the Bronco, he said, "I appreciate all your help tonight."

He gave Bradley another fist bump. "You gotta start fresh tomorrow, man. And you can't leave me hanging, okay? I need a wedding invitation."

Bradley chuckled as he climbed out for the last time. "I'm about to leave you the biggest tip."

He tapped two hundred bucks into the app as Julian drove off shouting, "Good luck!"

With nothing else he could do right now, he climbed in the Bronco, cranked the engine and started to drive himself home for the night. He was tempted to swing by your place or at least try to call you one more time, but he decided to let you get some sleep before you started to regret your message. That way he'd have a little more time with this hopeful feeling in his chest.

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

There was pounding. There was so much pounding. Maybe someone turned the music up even louder at Cheetahs? Or were you at Pleasure Town now? "Make them turn it down," you moaned, trying to cover your ears. That's when you realized you were in your bed. At home. Someone was knocking on your front door.

"Wait," you croaked as loudly as you could, your ears still buzzing from the loud music all night long. The bachelorette evening had been highly successful. Halo had a great time. But now you were hungover and not in the mood to deal with anyone. 

As you climbed out of bed, you grabbed your phone from the nightstand to check the time. The battery was almost dead, and you had a bunch of missed texts and calls, but you couldn't even focus on that until the pounding ceased.

"Please stop," you whined, flinging your door open before you even checked to see who it was. When you saw him it felt like someone poured warm caramel sauce on your heart or shoved you hard into a wall made out of soft foam: he always made you feel good and gooey and squishy in the most heart pounding, confusing way. "Rooster."

When he moved slightly, he stopped blocking the sunlight behind him and you squinted your eyes and groaned as you took a step back. "Blaze," he said in that raspy as sin voice as he blessedly closed your front door behind him. "You have a hangover."

You nodded, but even that was too much. "What gave it away?" you asked him softly, still holding your phone.

He snorted. "Well, for starters, you're still wearing your dress from last night."

"Oh." You hadn't realized that as you looked down at yourself for confirmation. "We went pretty hard. I can't even remember much after you bought us the Johnnie Walker at the Hard Deck."

He remained quiet until you looked back up at his face. "You... remember texting me?" His tone was one you'd never heard before, and it took you a few seconds to realize he was nervous. On edge. Hesitant. He was never any of those things with you, and you didn't like this at all.

"I texted you?" When you lifted your phone higher, you started to wonder why he hadn't hugged you when you opened the door. He usually always did. He swallowed hard, and you watched the scars along his neck as his Adam's apple bobbed.

"You really don't remember?"

Now he just sounded really fucking sad, and for some reason your brain was screaming at you that there was something you were definitely supposed to recall from last night. Something about Bradley. You left him at the Hard Deck after he paid for the Scotch, and then you went to dinner and drank more while you thought about him the whole time. But there was definitely something else.

"No. I really don't remember," you whispered, annoyed with yourself. You felt like it was somehow your fault that his lips were pressed in a tight line and his brow was creased.

"It's not important," he replied, all businesslike now. "Can I see your phone for a minute?"

"Yeah," you told him, handing it over and watching while he punched in your passcode. "What did you end up doing all night?"

He sighed and looked at you. "I ended up following you around to no avail."

"Why?" you asked, still clearly missing a piece of this whole puzzle as he started tapping your phone screen with his thumb. 

"That's not important either," he whispered, and you decided you didn't like any of this. 

You snatched your phone out of his hand and wrapped your arms around his neck. Almost reluctantly, he hugged you back before reaching his hand up to where you were holding your phone, trying to get it again. "What do you want my phone for so badly?"

He was acting strange, and when he said nothing in response, you lunged out of his grasp and tapped on your text thread with him. 

"Blaze," he barked out, but it was too late. You read what you'd sent him last night.

Full disclosure, I'm drunk. And I'll probably regret this in the morning, but... I think about kissing you all the time.

"Oh my god!" you screeched. "I didn't delete that?! I hit send!" You couldn't even meet his eyes now as you tried to figure out how to get him to leave so you could cry in peace.

"Blaze, it's okay," he promised, but you knew it wasn't.

"You were going to delete that message. And the ones you sent to me after it," you accused. "Weren't you?" When he just stared at you silently, you realized he was trying to save you from being embarrassed, but it was way too late for that. He didn't want you. He was never going to want you.

"No hard feelings," he said softly. "Go ahead and delete it yourself. We can pretend this never happened."

"No hard feelings?" you practically wailed, afraid you were going to cry in front of him. "I just ruined everything. You were never supposed to know how I feel about you, Bradley."

As soon as you ducked your head away from him, his fingers were under your chin tipping your face up so you were looking him in his impossibly endearing brown eyes. "I need you to explain this to me. Okay?" He took your phone gently from your hand and held it up with the message displayed. "Please, Blaze. Did you mean it? Is that how you think about me?" When you nodded slightly, he readjusted his hand on your face so he was cupping your cheek instead. "Baby, I followed you everywhere last night. I called you and texted you and rode around in a white Toyota with Julian for hours on end."

"Who's Julian?" you ask softly as Bradley slid your phone into his jeans pocket.

"He's my new friend," he replied, which cleared up exactly nothing for you. "I went on this insane chase from Cowboy Star to Cheetahs to Pleasure Town just to try find out if there was even the slightest chance that you really meant what you said."

He closed the distance between your bodies as he stroked his thumb along your cheek. "It was supposed to be my little secret," you whispered. "I just typed it out to see how it would look. I read it in my head and imagined how you might take it. It was supposed to get deleted. You were never supposed to know."

"Is it really so bad that I do?"

His question hung in the air between you, and once again you nodded. "Yes, Bradley. Yes, because it's going to complicate everything now. Work, and our friends, and hanging out at the bar. It's all ruined. Because you'll never look at me the same way you used to."

"Blaze," he rasped. "Baby, I don't want to look at you the same way I used to. Like I was never going to measure up. Like I could never be what you wanted."

You gasped as your eyes went wide. "What are you saying?"

He groaned and pressed his lips to your forehead, and you melted against him. "I'm saying that I chased you all over the city last night hoping like hell that you meant what you said. And that you didn't regret it."

Your head was spinning, but not from the hangover as you thought about how it could feel to be with this man. "You want this?" you asked in awe as your hands eased up along his chest to slip around his neck again.

"Desperately. And if you think you want to see where it goes, we can take it slow, you know?" he asked, his brown eyes hopeful once again. "We don't have to rush into anything crazy."

But you knew you were already kind of crazy about him. You had been for a long time. So you whispered, "I think I could fall in love with you," and his lips came crashing to yours. You moaned into his mouth. His lips and his mustache were even better than all those times you'd imagined kissing him. His huge hands were bunching up the fabric of your dress at your hips. You wanted every part of your body to be touching him from now until forever.

This was how good it felt when you and he stopped pulling your punches. When you both stopped pumping the brakes. You raked your hands through his wavy hair, gasping for breath as you asked, "Did you really try to find me last night?"

"Of course," he promised as you kissed along his mustache and across his cheek. "It was enlightening. I learned a lot about myself. Hey, do you think I'd be a good stripper?"

"God, Rooster," you groaned just thinking about it. "You'd be an excellent stripper."

"I fucking knew it," he grunted, half guiding you and half carrying you to your bedroom. "Listen, we should cuddle right now, but I'm going to need you to come to Hard D Boys with me one night. I'm pretty sure it's just to prove a point, but you never know."

You really weren't positive what he was talking about now, but it didn't matter. His lips were on your neck, and his weight was pressing you down onto your bed, and he was saying the most wonderful thing.

"I know for sure I could fall in love with you."

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

He's such a simp, he would chase you anywhere. Imagine taking your brand new boyfriend to his stripper audition just because he has to prove a point. I mean, I wouldn't complain lol. Thanks for reading! And thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @thedroneranger

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[notroosterbradshaw]

slow dancing in a burning room - one

word count: 5.3k

warnings: nsfw 18+, language, smut, fluff.

part of: The Boyfriend Experience universe

prologue << please read this first.

six weeks earlier.

You had only just stepped out of the shower when you heard the apartment door slam. As Bradley’s heavy footsteps entered your bedroom, you sighed and started towelling your hair.

“Love, you here?”

Popping yourself out of the ensuite, you gave him a gentle smile as he sat on the bed, loosening his boots and socks, and lining them up neatly, the socks both naturally landing perfectly in the hamper as he tossed them. “Do I dare ask how today went or should I just stay in there a while longer?” you teased, thumbing towards the bathroom but weren’t really in the mood for another evening of Bradley’s bad mood with Maverick’s return.

It was early, thankfully he wasn’t kept back like he had been the last few days. He’d come home like a bear with a headache each evening, and as much as you loved him, you were growing wary of him returning home to play ‘guess Bradley’s mood!’, his internalising, the deep loathing. You weren’t sure how to help him aside from distracting him and trying to help him feel good. Things were strange, not between the two of you, but he was a little rougher, shorter, a little gruffer… and for a few days, you were incredibly turned on about it. But you’d be lying to say it was just leaving you a little on edge.

He could only shrug as you fastened your robe around yourself and approached him. “Better, worse, same,” he admitted as you stood before him and caressed his rosy cheeks, leaning down to kiss constellations of freckles around his hairline. He looked up with a faint grin, a pleased hum escaping his lips. “Hi. Missed you today.”

You twirled his perfectly styled tendrils around your fingers, the strands of sun-kissed hair soft under your touch. “Missed you too, handsome.”

He huffed a tired chuckle, his hands coming to rest on your hips, his head resting on your belly, you could hear him take a deep inhale before looking up to meet your eyes. His stealthy palms moved to the belt of your robe and slowly pulled it wide, your beautiful body all curves and soft skin on display for him. The same visceral response he always had; your body called to him in ways no one else had before. 

He bobbed and kissed between your ribs, his large hands disappearing under the terry towel material to your ass, his touch light and pulling you to his lap. “Come here, sweet girl,” he said, his exhaustion evident in his voice. He buried his face into the crook of your neck, centring himself against your skin. “Home,” he said so faintly you almost missed it.

Your heart lurched. Sometimes you wondered if he meant to say things like that out loud, but he was never embarrassed if you heard him. Your nimble fingers started to make light work of his khaki shirt, strained over his broad chest and shoulders. Hands drifting to his waist and quiet giggle as you tickled him, you withdrew the hem from his slacks, your hands bunching the material as he reached for a lingering kiss. Your tongue tenderly traced his full lips as he smiled, gratefully deepening the motion, his arms tightening around you.

“Really missed me, huh?” his voice a little rough.

“Sue me, the khaki sure is something…” you murmured against his jaw.

“Despises the Navy but fuckin’ butter for the uniform,” he goaded with a tsk.

“I like your flight suit too. You just don’t wear it home as much,” you confided as he chuckled louder, his head lolling with joy and you’d swear it was the heartiest laugh he’d revealed all week. 

“You don’t need me coming home reeking like jet fuel and sweat, sweet girl,” he admitted.

Buttons finally all undone, you pushed the khaki from his shapely shoulders. “I know the push-ups have been hell, but Jesus boy…” you fingered the ribbons of bugling muscle as he kept his steadfast gaze on you and surprised him by pushing him back on the bed, he landed with a huff. “I really am the luckiest,” you said as he propped himself to his elbows as you undid his belt and painstakingly, delicately downed the zip. He willingly raised his hips as you took his boxers with his slacks.

Bold and truly on display, Bradley Bradshaw was a delight to the senses. If someone asked you to describe him, you weren’t sure where you'd start – 

He waved to regain your attention. “Where are you? You’re like a million miles away,” he asked, his lips quirking in amusement.

“Lost in you,” you slipped out before you could stop it.

He held out his calloused palm and you took his hand, crawling up the bed. You straddled his tummy, tracing the peaks and ridges of his abs and ribcage. “Good,” he pushed the robe away and pulled you to him, skin to skin.

“Are you good, sweetheart?” you asked, quietly.

“Today was okay,” he admitted.

“And Mav is still in one piece?”

“Yeah,” he sighed.

“Great! That covers our Maverick discussion for the evening,” you announced as he frowned. “We’re not talking about him tonight,” you reiterated as he nodded.

“Fair. Never wanna talk about that motherfucker,” he breathed. “So, let’s just stop talking,” he gave you that gentle smirk, his tongue running over his lips before kissing you to shut you up. He knew how worried about him you were, but Pete Mitchell was a situation he could handle.

Albeit, he knew he was coping pretty shitty at this point. His rage was completely out of check, he felt he was running on adrenaline - and the worst part? No one in the squad knew. He knew he was coming across as a petulant asshole in classes and worse, in the air. But he was dealing with it as well as he could. He knew he was not his usual self. But he was doing everything he could to not bring work home to you. He knew that wasn’t working either… but it was only another few weeks of training with Mav, getting on the boat, being or not being a part of the mission, and get the fuck back home. Move into your new home together and start living the rest of your lives without Peter fucking Mitchell.

But it wasn’t just Mav... the more he’d started to learn about the mission parameters, the more anxious he got and it was only compounded by seeing Mav every day. There was also the fact he didn’t know how to tell you how dangerous this all was. It didn’t compare to a single thing he’d done in his life before. 

It was weighing on him.

“Kiss me. Put that pretty mouth to use,” you told him with a hint of demand as he chuckled, pulling your thigh into his palm and rolling you so he was hovering above you. You adored his body weight on you, the strong muscle and his bulk comforted you.

“Yes, ma’am,” he muttered quietly as he kissed your nose, his soft lips slowly making their way around your face as your eyes fluttered closed and he took his opportunity to kiss your closed eyelids. He loved you wholly and knew he’d work hard every single day for taking a chance and falling in love with him.

He smiled against your skin as you giggled gently beneath him. You were overcome with his attention to you, his sweet kisses just making your head spin. Your head fell back and you laced your fingers in his sort waves. You didn’t think you’d ever felt this more in love with anyone in your entire life. 

As he nibbled your earlobe, he whispered, “I love you, sweet girl.”

You cupped his face, eyes opening to his handsome face. “I love you too, Bradley Bradshaw. Come on, make love to me, big boy. Been needing you all day.”

He nodded softly, adjusting his hard cock between you, hard, proud and wanting. “I’ll give you whatever you want,” he whispered, quite content to just make out. You'd never be able to fully translate how good a kisser Bradley was. At first, his moustache was a thing. You’d admit it, it tickled, and you had to find ways to hide the irritable rash that came with hours in his embrace. “You good and wet for me?” 

“Always.”

“Good,” he said decisively as he kissed you, his lean, strong body caging as you welcomed him between your legs, his cock pressing impatiently into your core but he dared not enter. “You’re so soft, so sexy. All mine,” he grunted as he tangled his legs with yours. His palm cascaded down your side and crudely open you to him, his long finger skimming your labia, skirting across soft skin and tenderly pushing within you as you sighed, blissfully. He grinned at his favourite sound in the world (a close second was the roar of his jet) and kissed you again. “I really could have you anytime I wanted, couldn’t I?”

Pulling his face to yours, you replied, “You tell anyone what my body does around you and I’ll deny it.” 

He laughed loudly. “You’re fuckin’ perfect, baby. If it makes you feel any better,” he admitted, lowering his voice. “You know you’ve got me on a string, chasin’ you round like a little puppy.”

You smiled as he grinned back. “A manly puppy,” you replied smartly. He shook his head and adjusted his cock, swiftly pressing in in retaliation, filling you up fully as you writhed in pleasure below him. “Oh, sweet Jesus.”

“Sweet Bradley,” he corrected you rolled your eyes, a mix of irritation and sheer pleasure and he rolled his hips that way that made you cry out.

“So fuckin’ good,” you managed as he wrapped his arms under you, raising your hips and changing the angle just enough for you to moan together. 

“Okay?” he pressed his lips to your throat, his tongue tracing and leaving its mark. You could only groan his name in response. 

“God, I love you,” you confided. “I love you so much, Bradley.”

And Jesus, did he know. He’d never felt so content thinking about forever. Sure he’d had a girlfriend here and there, never any long-term, more one-night stands than he’d ever care to admit, and dated plenty. But none of them made him feel like this. Like he was with the person he was supposed to live the rest of his days with. The thought excited him more than anything else. Someone to build a life and a family with. Maybe marry (although he wasn’t entirely sure where you stood on that matter. At Harvard's wedding a few months back, you’d slipped and talked about ‘our wedding’, which he downplayed but knew that when you said the word... he’d give you everything). But a life together consumed him. He never used to be like this, but he’d never met anyone like you either. 

The girl down the street who had a schoolgirl teen crush on him in high school that grew up and grew into the woman he’d come to love unconditionally. It was an added bonus that you were his friend first, so fucking smart, hilarious, and self-deprecating occasionally. He adored you.

And dear God, so fucking hot. You didn’t know how gorgeous you were, but Bradley knew he was batting well above his average with you on his arm. 

His hips ground into you punishingly slow, taking every ounce you were giving back as you met his thrusts, he was so hard and begging for his relief. He wanted to cum so dreadfully, but you still hadn’t and there was no way he would before you. He moved away from your mouth and looked down where your bodies met, his skilled fingers sweeping circles on your pained clit. Your body shook beneath his as he begged you to let go.

When your pussy started to throb, he could swear he saw stars, the drag of his cock thundering, wanting you to milk him for all he had. He groaned low, his head was thrown back as your core drenched his begging cock. “Fuck, you’re so good to me,” he managed to get out as your beautiful body shuddered, he was so deep within you and you knew he was so close, hard and heavy. He needed his release, and you were only too happy to deliver.

His hips roared into you, pace heady as your orgasm dragged out his and he palmed your breast, tongue swirling your nipple wanting more as you writhed below him, the pleasure now too much in your post-orgasm glow and you brought his panting mouth to yours, hungry, wet kisses covering each other as he came with a growl. He spilled into you and before long, he stuttered to a close, his lips kissing your face and caressing your breasts, his tongue lapping at his bite marks and leaving delicate kisses in the places that stung.

For a moment, he lay on you, gathering himself, peppering tender kisses along your clavicle as he came down from his high and breathed deeply. “I never want to move,” he teased as you raised an eyebrow and watched as he reached for his discarded undershirt, gathering it between you both as he pulled out and you leaked the proof of your lovemaking all over the bed. He tenderly tidied you up before doing the same and discarding the shirt to the floor. He gave you a tender kiss and helped you wrap yourself back up in your robe, his body resting tenderly against yours, keeping you close and warm.

“You’re very good at that, Bradley,” you said, absolutely 100% fucked out just like he liked it.

He laughed quietly, raising his knuckles to dab. “I got a very good partner.”

That exhaustion from the day reared its head again as you yawned as he played with your fingers against his strong chest. “Wanna go for a drive?” Bradley said a while later.

“Dinner or something?” you could go with dinner. Workout done; your stomach growled on command. He chuckled quietly.

“…or something. Then dinner,” he said a faint smile ghosting across his striking features. You shrugged. You didn’t have anywhere else to be. You shrieked as you were suddenly pulled to your feet and into Bradley’s arms. “I don’t know how to say it, and I hope it never becomes redundant, but I love you.”

You would never be tired of his sweet, honest words. “Knock it off, Shakespeare,” you teased as he blushed a little. “Me too, baby. You are the love of my life.”

And as always, Bradley’s gift of the gab single-handedly brought you to your knees as you pretended to lose your footing, faint. He chuckled, catching up and smothered your face with his soft kisses. “Never leave me.”

“Never.”

“And this would be our room,” Bradley smiled, opening the door to the master bedroom, the setting sun leaving the last hits of gold on the wooden floorboards as you followed him in. This is where your evening drive brought you: to his parent’s house he’d finally go the keys to and couldn’t wait to discover through your eyes.

He couldn’t remember a lot about the home, he remembered spending time at the beach with his mother, maybe faintly his dad playing the piano in the living room. He recalled photos of it, and maybe his memories were blurred because of it. But he remembered mornings when his dad was off work, and he’d sneak in as an early-rising three-year-old to creep between his parents and go back to sleep before Carole would make her men their favourite banana pancakes for breakfast.

Bradley sighed. He didn’t recall having banana pancakes much after his dad died.

He watched your every step, watching your brain work and considering what could be done with the room, the house, the kitchen you absolutely, fucking despised. He’d never seen you turn your nose up at something so quickly, it was hilarious to bear witness. Then your grin when you said you were going to enjoy taking a sledgehammer to that room the most. He liked that deviousness in you.

“My God, it’s huge,” you said, a little overwhelmed.

“Thank you,” he joked as you rolled your eyes, pulling you into his arms and burying his face into the curve of your neck, his silken tongue dragging across your jaw. “So… what do you think? Can you imagine growing old here?” he murmured into your skin and eyes peering up at you, shyly.

Hopefully. Desperately.

“You let me destroy that kitchen and the guest bathroom downstairs and I’ll be here forever,” you said, taking in his delicious lips and drawing his mouth to yours, your hand slipping to the front of his jeans, a rough grope of his cock jolting his entire body awake.

“Wow, easy there tiger,” he huffed a laugh, appreciating your initiation. “Jesus, that feels so good,” he admitted as your palm continued to grasp him.

“Wanna christen the place?” you asked curiously as he quirked an eyebrow.

“Fuckin’ A. Yes,” he chuckled quietly. “But there isn’t any furniture yet – ”

“I don’t care,” you told him, guiding him by the hand to the bay window, the sheer curtains wafting with the gentle breeze from the ocean. He saw where you were gazing, the reflection of late afternoon gold on the waves. “Beautiful view, huh?” he asked his voice dropping to sinful levels, thinking you’d been enraptured by the ocean.

You simply shrugged as he watched you raise your dress over your head and drop it at his feet, strapless bra covering your breasts and a barely-there thong.

“Oh. I…” He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry and words lost to the air as he watched you unclasp your bra and slip off your underwear. “Love....”

“Gonna join me?” you asked, not nervous, not feeling on display, but feeling the radiation of Bradley’s desire washing over you. He nodded dumbly, letting his necessary ceremonial Hawaiian shirt hit the floor and slinging his wifebeater off with it.

He reached for the buckle on his belt. But not before one last request. “Make sure you’re good and wet for me, love,” he looked down to unlace his boots and remove his socks, almost choking as he gazed back up to see your hands flit around your breasts, tweaking your nipples and a moan so sinful he could come right then and there. “Keep going, don’t let me stop you,” he smartened up, his arrogance that the show was just for him, his jeans at his ankles and he kicked them away, leaving him and his strained half-hard cock in his boxer briefs. Pushing them away from his hips and dropping them to the floor, he stroked himself, growing in his zealous, calloused palm and moved to you quickly.

“Hey, roomie,” you whispered as he peered down to watch you touch yourself.

“Please don’t stop,” he grunted, taking your wrist and guiding it, and not letting your hand leave your pained clit. “Fuck, that’s so beautiful.”

“I need you, Bradley,” you told him.

“I know, sweet girl,” he said softly as he watched you get to your knees. “Oh, baby, you don’t need to – ”

You raised a finger to silence him. “But I want to.”

It was something he’d never deny you. You were so giving when you went down on him, and he would never turn you down because it gave you the power and he loved when you were in control. Of course, you consumed his mind, body and soul so it was just an extension of that, but he simply could not get enough.

“Love, I’m gonna cum real fast,” Bradley said pained as your warm inviting tongue swirled around his head, tasting him on your tongue. He sighed, digging his heels into the floorboards, desperately keeping his balance as he watched his cock disappear in the back of your throat. “My sweet girl, you deserve an award. No one has ever given me head like you do. It’s better,” he strangled out, his body shuddering. “It’s better every time,” he had to laugh when you gazed up and gave him a comical wink before returning to the task at hand. He swept your hair from your eyes and cupped your cheek, stroking it with his thumb. 

The teasing and taunting had gotten too much, and he grasped your jaw just that little bit tighter as his hips stuttered. You had taken him so deep, you probably had never gone down on him as devoutly as this, and he’d never felt so turned on. 

“Baby, really,” he grunted. “I’m gonna paint the back of that beautiful mouth of yours. Tell me if you don’t want it - ” he muttered. God, you loved when he spoke to you like that. It wasn’t often, but when that carnal part of him escaped, it only made you want to please him further.

You contemplated him like he hung the moon. A whine escaped as your pretty lips and hummed around his raging cock, and he had to remember to breathe. He watched your fingers disappear and you touched yourself again, your chest rising and falling as you felt your orgasm tempting to push you over the edge. There was something incredible about seeing Bradley so turned on. The power Bradley Bradshaw had over your body was truly astonishing. And the dirty talk? Jesus fuck, the sexiness never seemed to end with him.

“Oh, fuck, you’re so beautiful when you touch yourself, love,” he strained, his abs clenching and he maintained his balance, his powerful quads taking the brunt of the assault. “Are you gonna cum for me too?” he begged. You nodded but refused to release him and started to cry out, your body exploding, and he could hardly stand it, your body quaking and dear god did he love the magic your body performed when you gave in and let yourself release like that. He knew he was gonna lose your mouth on him as you lost your train of thought to your pleasure. He held himself steadfast as you struggled to stay with him, gripping his hamstrings to keep yourself on your knees. “I can’t – I have to – ” he tensed as he fucked your mouth roughly and he jerked himself thick, salty and deep in your delicious, slippery willing mouth. “Jesus Christ,” he hissed as you continued to swallow him down, the sensitivity just too much for him as he grunted low and ragged. “Take it all, love. That’s my sweet, sweet girl,” he gasped, as he forced the last thrusts out, a low grunt and he spilled into your heavenly mouth. 

He palmed your cheek and tenderly wiped away your stray tear with his thumb as you swallowed satisfied. He pulled you to your feet, kissing you silly, tasting himself on your tongue. He held your jaw, his long fingers slinking into your mussed hair and deepening the kiss as he kept you on your feet. 

He was so fucking proud of you.

God, you made him feel so fucking delirious, he just didn’t realise how lucky he was. “Sometimes I don’t think you understand how much I love you,” he said, his tongue tracing your lips. “Each day I think I couldn’t love you more and then you remind me that I’ll always be capable of loving you so much again,” he gently chewed your bottom lip in his gleaming teeth and kissed you again, soft and tender.

You smiled up at him, your small, soft hands caressing his strong sides, encouraged. “It’s wild, right? I feel the same,” was all you could manage, giggles bubbling as he couldn’t resist and laughed with you.

“There’s like 13 other rooms with still have to baptise, love,” Bradley hinted with a tease. “You got another round in you? You’ve already been so good to me tonight. I understand if you’re done...”

You didn’t know what it said about you, but you were always capable of another round with Bradley. He may have been the elite, but he took you with him every time. “I’m okay,” you promised. 

“Good,” he smiled, taking a seat and laying on the floor, opening his arms for you to join him. You lay across his chest and he covered you with his discarded shirt. “We got time,” he said as you lay your head on Bradley’s clammy chest and he twirled your hair in his fingers, giving you all the adoration in the world. “That was the sexiest thing you have ever done for me. Watching you finger yourself… bordered on obscene. I’m beginning to think you have this little deviant side within you that you have yet to fully embrace. You about to 50 Shades me?” he asked jovially.

“Not tonight,” you laughed. “Unless you want me to?” you said so straight-faced that he looked up, eyes bulging as the room continued to darken and your eyes danced full of mirth, giving you away as he chuckled and relaxed back. 

He couldn’t resist and replied, “I will try anything once.”

“Colour me surprised,” though you really were not surprised. “I guess I just don’t feel as shy with you as I used to. I am not stupid, I know you’ve had a lot more sex with me, but I want to please you, Bradley,” you said the last part cautiously.

“I’m glad you’re comfy, sweet girl. But I don’t want you to ever feel like you have to prove anything to me.”

“Well, yeah… but I know I’m probably not the most adventurous sex you’ve had either.” Uh oh.

He shrugged. “Untrue, but that is neither here nor there for me.”

“Am I boring?” you asked, suddenly very exposed as he shook his head sincerely. Panic washed over you as you tried to sit up as he sighed, and tenderly cast you back against his chest. He kissed your hair soothingly.

“No, love. You’re fucking perfect. I am extremely satisfied, trust me.”

“If you’re not, you’d tell me, right?” you asked, kind of worried about his answer still, as he sighed, shaking his head.

“Love, don’t get in your head. I’ve had sex. Some I remember, some I don’t. You? Every kiss, touch, caress. You’re the only person I want to be with. Sex is different now. It means something. That’ll always be the most important thing to me.”

You tried not to feel too smug; he surely had a way to make you feel like the only person that mattered. Bradley Bradshaw truly had the gift of the gab.

“You’re the last person I want to have sex with – think you haven’t ruined me for anyone else by now?”

You rolled over and smirked at him. “Jesus, Bradley Bradshaw. That is a line.”

“What?” he couldn’t hide his bubbling giggle. “It’s true, right?”

“Better fuckin’ be,” you agreed, crawling up to kiss him. You palmed his flushed, smooth cheek. “I love you, Bradley. And it’s going to take something really terrible to change that.”

“Fuck yeah,” he agreed softly, blushing a little. He pulled you flush to him. “I’m never gonna let anything happen to you, got that?”

Warmed to your bones, you smiled, and he grinned right back at you. All teeth and dimples, a little bashful under your affectionate gaze. You loved that generous smile when he gave it to you. “I hope not.”

For a while, you just lay there, occasionally something in the room giving you some spark of inspiration and mentioning your ideas to Bradley. You didn’t want to overstep the mark – this was the house Bradley grew up in. You knew he wanted to give the place some love, but you weren’t sure how much he was determined to change that was his parent's influence. That was the crux, the heart of it all and you didn’t want to overstep the mark. “Love,” he said after a while. “We can’t stay here tonight. There’s no power, bed, hot water.”

“That’s okay,” you rested your chin on his chest, your nail tracing the wiry skin of the scar on his Adam’s Apple, and he swallowed hard from the sensation as it made him break into goose pimples. “I guess I’ll go home all dirtied up then.”

“Well, I’m just going to filth you up when we get back to your apartment, anyway,” he figured. “What’s the difference?”

“The sheer fucking arrogance of you,” you could help to laugh. “You are so self-satisfied, it is ridiculous.”

“Oh, yeah, you really fuckin’ hate it,” he mocked you, licking his top lip and smirking wickedly. “I think you like my ego. My confidence is one of the things you like most about me.”

“You’re very sure of that.”

“Very sure,” he concurred. “You can tell me I’m wrong at any time…” he waited. And waited a little more before more cackling. “Yep, that’s what I thought.”

“Wanna know what I love about you?” you said after a while.

“Ooh, love. Yes, I’d love to know,” he laced his muscular arms behind his head and settled in, ego primed for steady stroking.

“Your good heart,” you kissed the left side of his chest, his heart racing under your lips and you could feel his ribs swell under your touch. His sharp intake of breath, while he waited for more, told you how surprised he was, thinking he was getting his body, his so impressive body that he dutifully dedicated hours in the gym to, loved on. “How incredibly funny you are,” you kissed between his pecs as he sighed and released a hand, to smooth your hair, giving you a heartening tug. He was so warm. “How talented you are, musically, creatively. I love those things you only let me see. When you’re so relaxed and at ease… I love when you walk around barefoot and your boardshorts hang low, your hair all wild and curly after a run. When you dance your gorgeous little ass off in the kitchen when you’ve had a good day.”

“Wow,” he breathed, heart swelling, self-esteem abated for the moment.

“And when you surprise me at work.”

“You liked that? Thought I embarrassed you…” he confided with a bashful chuckle; he cupped your chin.

“You turned up in your khaki’s with a dozen long-stemmed red roses. It’s all the mothers have spoken about since you did it. Are you aware your khakis are a little bit tight?”

Straight-faced, he replied, “Pretty sure they got me laid earlier tonight actually,” he said, the melody of humour in his voice as you hid your face. “But yes, the uniform is a bit snug at the moment. All that amazing food you cook me. Biceps are aware, seat is aware… cock, aware. Very well aware.”

“You’re goddamn shameless, Bradshaw.”

He laughed again. “Yes, love. Shameless for you,” he said, the cheese laid on thick.

“Take me home, big boy,” you tenderly kissed him, and he wrapped his arms around you, keeping you close. “Got hours before sunrise.”

“I’m gonna fuck you all damn night until you beg me to stop,” he murmured, pressing his lips to yours. And you weren’t surprised when you found yourself bent over the bay window and he fucked you from behind while he clutched and teased your breasts before he spilled into you again, hard and hungry, telling you over and over that you were the only one that he’d ever love.

masterlist.

A/N: the tag list no longer exists. To keep up to date, give @notroosterbradshaw-library a follow x

[milesdickpic]

Bradley's First 'Official' Father's Day | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader/Fam

Click here to see the master list

Can be read in conjunction with HLG or alone 🥹

A/n: It's Bradley's first Father's day and he doesn't even know it yet! How will it unfold? 🫣🥰

Word Count: 2.1k (although you babes deserve a whole lot more for having to wait 10 years for me to post again 😵‍💫)

Warnings: crying, cursing, but so much wholesome love ❤️

Please don't take my work, I will find you. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Picture from Pinterest)

You, Mav, and Bradley were cleaning up the kitchen from dinner. Mav was drying the dishes as you handed them to him after washing them. Bradley was restoring the leftovers and placed them into the refrigerator.

Mav cleared his throat, “So Brad. Are you doing anything special for tomorrow?” He looked up at him and smiled as he dried one of the plates in his hand. 

Bradley smiled and looked at him awkwardly. “Work? Is that special enough, Mav?” He chuckled and shook his head.

Mav opened his mouth to talk again and you gave him wide eyes and shook your head. You wanted to keep it a surprise. You placed your finger to your lips to signal Mav to keep his mouth shut. Mav raised his brows and gave you a nod and a thumbs up.

“What do you all have planned at work tomorrow?” Mav carried the conversation with Bradley as he continued to put the plates away.

Bradley closed the refrigerator door and turned around. He crossed his arms and leaned back against the refrigerator’s door. He sighed, “You know, I think tomorrow is just an inspection day for the junior officers. So we will be going, or I will be checking out everyone's aircraft with maintenance teams to make sure they are up to par.” Bradley looked down and pressed his lips together. “So boring stuff.” He started to laugh. 

Mav made his way over to Bradley and patted him on the shoulder. “Welcome to the senior officer life, Brad.” Bradley shook his head at Mav and rolled his eyes while he pushed Mav’s chest playfully. 

You turned off the water to the sink and turned to the both of them. Bradley smiled and walked over to you. He had his hands out and placed them on your belly. “How about the four of you? What do you, Leia Rey, and the boys have planned?” He kissed your cheek and rubbed over your stomach. 

You scoffed, “Me, the boys, and Leia Rey have a couple of errands to run tomorrow.” You smiled and pinched Bradley’s cheek softly. He shook his head against your hand.

“Please have Papa Mav come with you. I don’t want you to do any bending over, heavy lifting, anything like that.” He raised his brows at you waiting for your answer. 

You smiled and nodded, “Of course.” 

Bradley placed a kiss on your forehead, “Thank you, sweetheart. I’m going to go to bed now. I have to be up early for work. I love you, baby. Good night.” He placed a kiss on your lips and two on your belly. “Good night, boys. Daddy loves you.”

Bradley walked over to Mav and gave him a hug good night. “Night, Mav. Thank you for helping out my girl tomorrow.”

Mav patted Bradley’s back. “Even if she wasn’t heavily pregnant I would help her.” He started to chuckle. Bradley pulled back from the hug and kissed Mav’s cheek hard. “Aww, Bradley!” Mav pulled back laughing at Bradley’s kiss. Bradley laughed and patted Mav’s chest and then ducked down to kiss his belly too.

Bradley slapped Mav's full stomach hard. “Night, food baby!” 

Mav started to laugh and pushed Bradley off of him. “Good night, Rooster.” He said with wide eyes and nodding his head. 

Bradley laughed and jogged up the stairs, “Night!”

Mav came over to you and smiled, “So what are we getting for Bradley’s first Father’s Day?” He raised his brows. 

You smiled and gave him a devious look, “It’s going to be cute and obnoxious.”

Mav hummed and nodded his head, “Like him. I like it.” 

————-

Bradley’s POV

I was at work finishing up the last couple of inspections for the day. I was so tired and ready to head home and relax. I had been out on the tarmac in the hot and humid weather for the whole 12 hours. I felt like my feet were burning up in my boots. They were ready to melt into the hot asphalt.

“Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw.” 

I turned as one of my junior lieutenants, Riot, was coming up to me as I inspected his plane. He stuck his hand out to me and smiled. I grabbed his hand and shook it. “Sir.”

I smiled, “Riot, are you here to distract me from inspection?” I started to laugh. 

He shook his head and chuckled. “No, sir. I just wanted to wish you a Happy Father’s Day before I headed out.” I stopped the inspection and furrowed my brows before I turned to him slowly. “Leia and the boys are lucky to have a dad like you, sir.” He gave me another smile. 

I raised my brows. Holy shit today was Father’s Day? I gave him a smirk and patted his back, “Thank you, Riot. I truly appreciate that. Happy Father’s Day to you as well.” I bumped his fist and he was off. I slowly turned back to his aircraft and finished the check. “Huh, Father’s Day… No wonder Mav asked if I had anything special for today.” I chuckled and met back up with the maintenance team to give them the last bit of paperwork. 

————

Your POV

You, Leia, and Mav were setting up all of Bradley’s gifts for his first official Father’s Day. 

“Momma! Where should I put these balloons for Daddy?” She was holding a big bouquet of balloons in her hands. If she were outside you were more than positive she would be taken away with all the balloons. She looked at you with her eyes wide, excited, and smiling.

“You can set them up over there so when he walks in he can see them right away.” You pointed in the direction of the open space by the doorway. 

Leia ran over with the balloons and set them up for her dad’s arrival. You and Mav were finishing up some final touches. Mav looked at the time. “1530. He will be home in 30 minutes. Phoenix and Hangman just texted me that they are all on their way back.” 

You let out a little scream as you continued to set up his gift. “OH MY GOSH!” You started to laugh. 

————

Bradley’s POV

I just pulled into the driveway with Phoenix and Hangman. I hopped out of the car and they both came out of Hangman’s car. 

“Happy Father’s Day, Rooster.” Hangman smirked at me as he slapped my back hard. 

I let out a cough as the air was forced out of me from his slap. I chuckled, then threw my arm around his neck and pulled him down in a headlock. “Thanks, Seresin.”

Phoenix came over and wrapped her arm around me. “Happy first official Father’s Day, Bradshaw.” She patted my stomach as I wrapped my arm around her shoulders. “Thanks, Trace.”

Hangman stood up and unlocked the door for the three of us. When the door opened we were all greeted by you, Mav, and Leia. 

Leia came running to me and jumped into my arms. “Happy Father’s Day, Daddy!” She covered me in kisses as you made your way over with Mav. You both had your arms out and came over to hug me. You and Mac sandwiched kissed my face as I laughed. 

You rubbed your thumb on my cheek and smiled. “Happy Father’s Day, Bradley.” I kissed your forehead and winked at you.

“Thank you, Sweetheart.” I let Leia down and she pulled me into the other living area. My eyes widened as I saw all the decorations set up for me. “Holy shit, is this all for me?” I chuckled as Leia pulled me over to the table.

“Yes, Daddy! It’s all for you! Momma, Brothers, and Papa Mav helped me set up everything! Do you like it?” She looked up at me with a big smile plastered across her face. 

I picked her up and kissed her cheek. “I love it, my little Leia. Thank you.” 

~~~~~

After we all ate dinner, Leia came over and gave me a gift. “Open it, Daddy.” She nudged me and nodded. I smiled and placed my water on the side of the couch. I sat up straight and she sat right next to me. “Papa Mav helped me make it.”

I shook the little box and Leia scoffed. I chuckled and patted her head. I unwrapped the little box and opened the lid. Inside was a silver heart with the letters “L.L.B” engraved on it. “Aww, babe, this is so nice! Thank you. A heart with yours and your brother’s initials.” 

“Wait! Turn it over! There is more!” She grabbed it from my hand and flipped it over. “Read it!” 

I read the little words out loud. “Fly safe. Love daddy’s co-pilots.” I smiled and kissed Leia’s temple. “I love it, sweetheart. I’ll keep it with me at all times.” Everyone looked around at each other and started to coo at the cute note. 

“I have one more gift for you, Brad.” Mav stood up slowly and smiled.

I shook my head. “Oh no, Mav, please. You didn’t have to get me anything. Being here is enough.” He waved me off as he walked over to the storage closet. I looked at everyone with wide eyes. 

Mav came over with a big long box. I looked at him carrying the box that was nearly as big as him. “Holy shit. Mav… What the hell is that?” I stood up and went to grab it from him. He started to chuckle. I looked at the box with big eyes. “Mav. Christ.”

He laughed and patted my back. “Something I’ve been saving for you. I hope you love it.”

I opened the lid of the box and pulled out the wooden casing. I started to chuckle. “Awww! No way! Thank you, Mav!” I held up the casing and saw my old retired LT. Bradshaw whites in the casing. “This is freaking Sweet!”

Mav chuckled. “Brad.” I looked over at him with my brows raised. “Read the name tag again.” I furrowed my brows and looked closer at the tag.

“N. Bradshaw.” I looked up at him slowly. “These are my dad’s?” He nodded slowly and smiled. I opened the case’s door and rubbed my thumb over the medals. I started to tear up. “Wow. This is even better.” I sniffled. “Thanks, Mav.”

He let out a little chuckle and came over to me. He kissed the top of my head and gave it a pat. “I love you, Brad. Happy Father’s Day, Kiddo.”

Hangman stood up and grabbed a bag out from behind him. “Well, there is no way Phoenix and I can give our gifts now. That was like the best gift ever after, Vapor girl’s gift.” We all laughed as he handed a bag to Mav and Phoenix handed the other bag to me. 

Mav looked at the bag shocked. “Wait!? For me!?” He was wide-eyed and excited. 

Hangman laughed and nodded. “From all of us, Mav. Happy Father’s Day.” He patted him on the back. 

Mav looked at everyone with a Smirk as he ripped the tissue paper out from the bag. He pulled out a shirt and read it to himself. “OH MY GOD! I LOVE IT!” He was laughing hysterically as he turned it around. “You can’t tell me what to do. You are not my granddaughter!” He could barely catch his breath as he said what the shirt said. 

“There’s more!” Leia yelled over to Mav. Mav threw the shirt on over his and looked in the bag for the next gift. He pulled out a frame and smiled as he read what was in it. He turned it around, “Best papa in the galaxy.” He looked at it and smiled even bigger. “I’m putting this in my workspace when I get home. Thank you everyone!” He went around and gave everyone hugs and kisses as I opened my bag.

Inside was a frame that read, “I am their father.” And under was a pink lightsaber with Leia’s name on it, A blue one with little Bradley’s name on it, and a Green one for Luke.  “This is Perfect. Holy shit!”

I turned it around and showed it off. “Thank you everyone!” I went around and gave my hugs and kisses to everyone. 

~~~~~~

At the end of the night, you and I were lying in bed. You were cuddled on my chest as I played with your hair. “Thank you, baby.”

You looked up at me and smiled. “For what?”

I smiled and rubbed your cheek. “For giving me the best gift of them all.” You furrowed your brows and pulled your head back to look at me. You tilted your head to the side and squinted your eyes. I kissed your nose and smiled. “For making me a father.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hi, my loves! (It's been a minute, huh Mav?) I am so sorry for being MIA for a long time. But I will try to be more active because I really miss being here and interacting with you all. Thank you for being here and reading. a special thanks to everyone who has stuck around this long with me and my stories. I value you all so much. Thank you for still being here with me. I love you all so much! I will see you all in the next one! (HLG POST 🫣)

My day ones are in the comments 🫶🏼

[tongue-like-a-razor]

hi! i'd like to ask prompt “Are you wearing my sweater?” from list 5 with bradley

thank you <33

Heyy! Thanks for your request, love <3 Enjoy!

CW: adult themes

4k Celebration Drabbles

Better On You

Bradley Bradshaw x F!Reader

You’ve just about had it with your roommates constantly lowering the temperature in the house. You hop out of bed, shivering, and head downstairs, grabbing a sweater hanging on the railing on the way down. You throw it on quickly, recognizing right away that it’s Bradley’s since you’re swimming in it and since it smells like his cologne. You shiver, stomping over to the thermostat after flicking on the corridor light, and start raising the temperature moodily.

The floor is cold so you hop around from foot to foot and don’t hear the staircase creak as Bradley descends.

“Are you” – Bradley starts, and you whip your head around to look at him. He stares at you for a moment, speechless. His eyes slip down your frame and he looks slightly bewildered. “Are you wearing my sweater?”

At first, the question seems bizarre, because it certainly isn’t the first time you’ve borrowed a piece of his clothing. But then you realize that you’re wearing his sweater and only his sweater. You gasp, quickly patting down the hem of it around your thighs, thankful that it’s long enough to cover your ass cheeks. “I’m stealing your sweater because you’ve turned this house into a freezer.”

Bradley laughs. “Looks better on you anyway,” he admits, starting to walk again.

You lower your head to hide your blush when he walks past, only he stops right before you instead of heading into the kitchen. You glance up at him cautiously. “May I help you?” you ask, standing guard in front of the thermostat lest he decide to tweak it again.

Bradley licks his lips. “Remember how we said that we can’t start anything if we’re going to be living together?”

“Yes,” you say slowly. “Bob made us sign a contract,” you remind him. Your other roommate had insisted that the three of you cohabitate without the undue drama of hookups and breakups, which seemed reasonable at the time.

Bradley’s eyes slide hungrily down your body once more. “Bob did not account for this.” Bradley gestures to your get-up.

You give Bradley a look. “Bob trusted us despite our history,��� you note, referring to that time back at Top Gun when the two of you dated for a total stretch of two tumultuous weeks.

Bradley stares pointedly at your bare legs. “Bob would understand,” he says with a mischievous smirk.

You narrow your eyes at him. “I doubt it,” you say, although you’re feeling very warm all of a sudden.

Bradley watches you intently, as though he’s trying to decide whether or not he should go for it. He reaches forward to trail his fingers up and down the fabric along your abdomen. “And what if I want my sweater back?” he asks.

You raise your eyebrows. “What, like right now?” His boldness gives you courage and you meet his gaze brazenly.

Bradley tangles his fingers into the sweater and he pulls you forward forcefully, his eyes dropping to your lips as you gasp in surprise. “Right now,” he breathes, glancing over your features impatiently.

You gulp. “Take it, then,” you say quietly.

The next thing you know, Bradley is stooping to lift you up over his shoulder. You yelp as he races up the stairs with you in his arms.

“You’re going to get us in trouble!” you yell, laughing as he bursts into his bedroom and throws you onto his bed.

Bradley chuckles, starting to undo the belt on his jeans. “You want to warm up, don’t you?”

You bite your lip with a smile and nod as he climbs onto the bed. You lean back into his mattress and he hovers over you.

He kisses your nose and then your cheek, and then your neck. “Don’t worry,” he says. “I’ll move out tomorrow if it means we get to keep doing this.”

[thatlovinfeelin]

He Don't Like The Lights | Bradley Bradshaw Actor AU|

Waiting tables wasn’t horrible, but it wasn’t your favorite job either. Not that you hated it, because you didn’t. For the most part you liked your coworkers, your roommate Celeste being one of them. Your bosses weren’t horrible, and the pay was alright. You were able to pay your bills and stash some extra cash away for savings. Soon, or at least you hoped it would be soon, you would be able to move out of the somewhat shitty place with Celeste and get a better apartment. Maybe even leave Virginia altogether. 

“Hey, I need you to take table five.” 

“But it’s not in my section tonight,” You argue with your manager. 

“Just take it, okay? It's a single and you’re better with singles than Celeste,” He replied, shooing you away with his hands. 

You let out a dramatic sigh, rolling your eyes as you grabbed your waitress book and headed towards the single guy sitting at the table. You never sized up tables before you started serving them, never tried to write people off before they had a chance to show their colors. 

But you could tell that this guy was hot just by the way he was sitting with a baseball cap tugged low. He at least knew how to wear a damned hat unlike some of the guys who came in with it halfway on their heads. 

“Hi, welcome in, can I get you started with anything to drink?” You asked cheerfully as you stopped in front of him. 

The bar was relatively empty, which came as a surprise since it was a weekend and the weather was fairly nice. Maybe everyone was still out at the beach and would be in before dinner ended. Maybe you would get lucky and end up having a good tip night to make up for the shitfest that was last night. 

“Uh, just a Bud on draft if you have it.”

“Bud lite?” You question. 

“No, Buswieser, the real shit,” There’s a hint of a laugh in his voice. 

“I’ve got it in a bottle, is that okay?”

“Yeah that works,” He replies, tipping his head back to look up at you. 

It takes you a second to register who’s actually looking at you. You’ve seen those dark hazel eyes on screen plenty of times, because Cele is obsessed with his movies. However, what really takes you back is how normal he looks in an old beat up t-shirt and shorts. He doesn’t look like the glamourous actor that you’ve seen.

“I’m sorry- are you,” You stop and lick your lips. 

You aren’t nervous, because you aren’t obsessed with him. His movies are okay, and you have to admit he is more attractive in person than he is on screen. But you’ve never been one to fall face first over someone who’s in the industry, not that you’ve ever had the chance to before. 

“Are you Bradley Bradshaw?” The question comes out as a whisper as you lean down, trying to be as quiet as you can. 

He pales for a moment, waiting to see if you’re going to fully freak out on him before smiling sheepishly, “Caught that easily, huh?”

“You’re lucky it’s just me and not the other girl over there,” You inform him, “She’d be on the floor, and I know that because I live with her and share a TV with her. But since it’s just me,” you smile at him before backing away a step, “A bottle of Bud coming right up.”

He smiles and relaxes into his seat before looking back down at his phone on the table. You can’t help but smile as you make your way towards the bar and the POS system to start his ticket. 

Bradley Bradshaw is eating in the bar and no one but you knows. He just happened to be lucky enough that Celeste had the one big table and was therefore too busy to take him, even though it was her section. 

“Thanks for taking that table,” She sounds out of breath as she sets a drink tray down next to you, “I’m swamped with those fuckers over there. Tourists on vacation who want everything at that very moment. Including three Virgin Strawberry Daiquiris for the kids. I want to shoot myself.”

You smile to yourself as you make your way around to the beer cooler to grab a nice cold bottle of Bud, “Oh don’t worry about it. He shouldn’t cause any trouble anyway.”

If only she knew. 

“Here you go,” You say, sitting the open bottle down on his table, “Do you need a minute to look over the menu? Or do you have any questions?”

“What do you recommend?” He asked you, looking back up. 

“Pulled Pork Mac’n’cheese, easy,” You replied almost instantly, “Hands down my favorite dish here, after our Crab Dip appetizer, but I also eat that for a full meal.”

He smiles up at you and closes the menu before handing it back to you, “I’ll try that Pork Mac then.”

“Sounds good, I’ll get that right in!” You smile triumphantly before backing away once again, “Holler if you need anything, okay? I’ll be back to check on you before the food comes out.”

Back at the bar, Celeste is finally able to stop for a minute and catch her breath. She looks miserable and it makes you want to laugh a little. Her night would be very different if she just took Table Five instead. 

She’s hunched over her phone reading an article, which normally you would call her out on being on her phone but tonight you can’t be bothered. It’s slow enough and her phone is hidden anyway. 

“Hey, Bradshaw is up for a bunch of awards,” She grins, “He so deserves them. You remember how great he was in that war movie, right! That’s what’s being nominated.”

“Hmm?” You question before your brain seems to catch up with you, “Oh, yeah. No, he was great in that movie. Whole cast was, honestly.”

“Exactly! I hope they sweep at the Oscars, they all deserve it so much.”

You have to hide your smile as you type away on the POS to put in the order. In the back, you can hear your kitchen jamming out to some sort of heavy metal meets classic rock mix which isn’t all that unusual for them. There are some days you’ve come to work and they’ve been listening to Disney music. At this point you can’t even try to say that you understand what their playlists consist of. 

It takes ten minutes before you’re walking back over to the table with another beer in hand. You noticed he was starting to run low and you know better than to let a drink ever go empty. That was one of the first things you learned when you became a waitress. 

“Brought you another one,” You announce, setting it down. 

“Thanks, appreciate it,” He replies, “And uh, thanks for not freaking out on me. Would’ve been a bitch if I got swarmed in here.”

“No worries, I’m not a rabid fan or anything,” You laugh, “But I am curious as to why you’re here of all places. I thought you lived in LA?”

“I do,” He nods, “But this was home long before LA was. I was born here in Virginia, I like to come back and visit family from time to time.”

“Oh,” You’re taken back by his honesty. He could’ve easily told you that it was none of your business, which is what you expected, “That’s really nice actually.”

Celeste calls you, saying the kitchen wants you. Reluctantly you force yourself away from the table and towards the set of double swinging doors in the middle of the bar. Something about Bradley Bradshaw is drawing you in and you aren’t sure if you want to resist it or not. Surely he wouldn’t remember your name in a few hours. He’d forget about the server from Virginia the second he got on a flight back to LA and the way of the world would take back over. 

“Here’s that pork mac,” Chef told you, nudging the dish in the window, “Get it out of my sight.”

“Sir yes sir,” You reply, grabbing the hot dish, “Thank you!”

“Yeah yeah, fuck off,” He grumbled, which only made you smile. 

You made your way back towards Bradley’s table with a smile. You could see why Celeste was so enamored with him. There was just something about him that made you want to sit down and hang on his every word. Plus, he was hot as hell. He still had the mustache from his previous role, and was trying to hide behind his ball cap. He looked normal, almost.

You wondered how other people here saw him? Were they even paying attention to the bonafide star that was hiding out in the corner? Celeste would piss herself if she knew he was here, hell, you might even piss yourself if he smiled at you again. The thought made you a little weak in the knees. 

“Your pork mac,” You said, sitting it down on the table in front of him, “Be careful, it’s actually pretty hot.”

“Mmm, looks fantastic,” He nearly groaned, “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet, you don’t even know if you’ll like it!” You laughed, “But I hope you enjoy, and let me know if I can get you anything else.”

You hop away from him again, taking a deep breath as you go. Maybe the night wouldn’t be as bad as you thought.

[thedroneranger]

You took tattoos and made them FLUFFY. I FUCKING LOVE YOU. This was so, so sweet. Also, I'm gonna remember this line for the rest of my life: They're the human equivalent to an eraser smudge. SO. GOOD.

PS - I'll just be bopping around your masterlist until I read, probably everything, so just be prepared. 🖤

Can I request a Bradley thing where he goes in to get a tattoo and reader does his tattoo and he’s just super love stricken. Next thing he knows he’s going to get tattooed just to see reader till he finally asks her to go on a date??? 🫶🏻🫶🏻

eeeeek fun fact about me: I have eighteen tattoos! so it would by me greatest HONOR to write this little fic!!

𝐓𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐝

𝐚 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐲 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐰 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞

Honest to God, if Bradley knew that you were going to be the girl doing his tattoo today, he would've pretended to be sick to get out of the appointment. He would've just gone to a different tattoo place entirely. But it's too late now--he's here, sitting in your little cubicle with its potted plants and hand-drawn posters and knick-knacks and bluetooth speaker, and you're quietly humming as you look over his paperwork.

It isn't that he thinks you're incapable of doing his tattoo--God, no. You were the name that kept popping up when he asked around for artist recommendations, the highest rated artist in his area (and the surrounding three--but who's counting?). And he knows you'll do a good job because he's seen your work on other people and even if he hadn't, the posters on your wall are evidence alone. Bradley can draw a crude stick figure on a good day--so he is endlessly impressed with your skill.

It's just that you are the prettiest thing he's ever seen in his entire life. No, not just pretty--something above that. Beautiful, gorgeous. Fuck, you're ethereal even and Bradley hates people that say ethereal.

Everyone he talked to failed to mention that you are simply the prettiest person in every room you walk into and, Bradley knows just by looking at you, that you're probably the coolest person at every party you've ever been to.

You have big eyes that you wear bright colors on, which look almost too good against your skin and those pretty irises. Just looking at you legit makes Bradley want to bite his knuckle. You have a cool haircut, one that is polar opposite of all the Navy-issued chop-jobs he's so used to seeing, and your voice is raspy and lovely. You're wearing authentic vintage Levi's and a smooth bodysuit, one that hugs your body, one that shows the hills of your breasts so well.

Simply put--you're fucking perfect.

Perhaps the worst of it all is that you're so fucking nice. From the moment he walked through the door, you were all smiles, leading him back to your little area and talking him through everything without making him feel like an idiot. You were offering him drinks and asking what his ideas were and then complimenting his ideas. You were making all the little tweaks he wanted and not complaining about it even a little bit.

And now, as he sits on your table with his foot tapping incessantly on the tile, he's just watching your throat vibrate as you hum. It takes him a moment to recognize it, but when he does, it makes him want to rake his hands through his hair.

"Leather and Lace?" He asks you, perching a brow.

And the way you laugh, looking up at him with a bright grin as the sun kisses your face, should be illegal. You're about to put a needle to his skin and watch him cower in pain--he wishes you would take that into account and look less Goddess-like, for the sake of his ego.

"Stevie is my idol," you sigh, pointing casually to the portrait of her on your arm. He inspects it with a smile tugging at his lips, hoping his ears aren't as red as they feel. "You're a big music guy, then?"

He nods, slightly embarrassed. Isn't everyone a big music person? Who the fuck doesn't like music?

You like this guy--this guy that told you to call him Rooster for some reason. This guy who's wearing the ugliest vintage Hawaiian shirt you've ever seen. This guy who has a lewd pornstache, the one who somehow pulls off the lewd pornstache. God, this guy is still wearing his sunglasses inside, but he's just so goddamn cute. He has one of those infectious laughs and a headful of nice, sandy hair. He looks like California has kissed him--pretty. He just looks pretty.

But you can tell that he's nervous. Most people are before getting under the needle--you totally get it. Sometimes you still get nervous about it, too, despite having your arms almost all the way filled in. but you have a hard time imagining this hunk of a Navy man is nervous about a tattoo on his peck. Even just based on the scars littering his face and throat, you're certain he's been through worse.

"So," you sigh, moving your chair closer to him so he can see the paper in your hands that has the mock-up of his tattoo. He leans in and you get a whiff of sea salt and vetiver--God, he smells good. "I scaled down the legs just a bit. I was thinking some light shading through here and filling in here and here--is that okay with you?"

Rooster nods, swallowing hard, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

"It looks good," he tells you. "Like really, really good."

You beam at him.

"Well, thank you," you say softly. "I'm a big art girl."

It makes something come loose in his chest--some breath he's had bated releases through his smiling lips. You're teasing him, you're joking with him. It feels good--natural.

"So, with this detail, I'm gonna put us at three hours. Does that sound good?"

Rooster nods immediately--his afternoon is entirely clear. But the prospect of getting to be with you for three hours is exciting--so exciting that it makes his throat tight. Needle be damned, he's going to get to listen to that laugh for three hours. Three!

"Sounds great," he tells you.

You grin, clapping your hands together.

"Well, I bet we're gonna be good friends by the end of this, huh?"

He grins. He already aches to kiss you and he doesn't even know you. Rooster does consider himself a hopeless romantic--but this is a whole new line he's crossing.

You point to his shirt, a slight blush covering your cheeks.

"You can go ahead and take that off now. I'm gonna prep the area."

As he obliges, he watches as you grab a little plastic razor and some paper towels. You're putting gloves on and still humming along to music that isn't playing, mentally cataloguing everything you're gonna need presently.

"Prepping the area includes--?"

You smile, standing up. He still hasn't taken his tank-top off yet, but you can tell already that this guy is fucking ripped. Not even in the usual California way--no, this guy is like movie-star ripped. He looks like he's been plucked out of a blockbuster.

"Shaving and disinfecting," you tell him, gesturing to the razor.

He nods, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip as he finally shrugs his tank and lets it fall into the chair he was sitting in.

"At least let me buy you dinner first," he teases.

Then you laugh--it's the first time he's really heard you laugh. He likes the sound, likes that you laugh with your mouth closed and your eyes wide.

"We'll see how the tattoo goes," you wink.

You're very careful as you shave and disinfect him, humming Stevie Nicks and Don Henley still. And you can feel his eyes lingering on your face as you work, but it doesn't bother you. He has pretty eyes--you're glad he's looking at you.

"Wanna be the DJ?" You ask with a grin, nodding towards the speaker.

Rooster feels like his heart is about to fall out of his ass. If he'd have known that he was going to be DJing this three-hour tattoos session with you--the prettiest girl he has ever seen--he would've made a playlist. Like, a proper playlist. One that is carefully curated and accounts for all possible avenues of this appointment. His dad used to make his mom mixed tapes--he still listens to them. Even though he thinks that making playlists is only a fraction as romantic, he understands that it's the modern mixed tape.

"Sure," he says softly, connecting his phone. "Are you exclusively a Fleetwood Mac girl?"

You shake your head, making sure all your ink is set out on their stabilizing beds of petroleum jelly and your gloves are intact. You pat the bed and he takes the hint, laying down while you adjust the light above you. Jesus, his muscles are practically rippling and he's not even doing anything.

"Mainly," you tell him, running your fingers along his peck and trying not to drool. "But I'm pretty diverse with my music. Hit me with your best shot."

Bradley suddenly feels nervous--put on the spot. It isn't even that he is about to have a needle against his skin. No, he was in Afghanistan, he doesn't really give a fuck about three hours of needle pricks. He cares about picking a song you think is lame. God, he'd just die of embarrassment if you didn't like what he chose.

As if you can sense his sudden nervousness, you grin up at him--it has the ability to completely relax his shoulders.

"C'mon, flyboy," you smile at him, readying your tattoo gun, "give it to me."

And suddenly Bradley can't breathe. You know that--it's why you said it. You watch him suck in a breath, watch him flounder for words, watch his pupils blow. Now he knows what it feels like for you to stare at his upsettingly beautiful midsection.

So Bradley gives it to you--very subtly turning on Hot Stuff by Donna Summer. It makes the both of you laugh--you even dance a little bit for him, in a silly and unserious way that makes his heart warm.

"Bet you're a good time at the bars," he tells you with a grin.

You nod rapidly, biting your lip.

"Oh, I'm the best to go to bars with," you tell him with a grin. "I dance and I sing and I drink."

"Triple threat," Bradley grins.

You nod again, chewing on your lip again. This guy is cute--like too cute for his own good.

"Few and far in between," you say, sighing. "I'm really a spectacle."

His heart is sitting in his throat. He loves the way you blush when you're being mockingly egotistical--he thinks that makes you genuine. Genuine and confident.

"I'd gladly spectate you at any bar," he says. You smile at him, the blush in your cheeks darkening as you narrow your eyes slightly. "You know, if you're up for it."

Your answer is a resounding yes--you know that already. But you can't just give it to him like that--you like to keep guys on their toes. Especially Navy boys.

"Actually, I have a two-tattoo minimum dating requirement," you sigh, shrugging.

He smirks at you. He can do this--he can do the chase.

"Is that so?"

You nod.

"Unfortunately," you say.

"What's your availability look like tomorrow?"

There's that sweet laugh again--it's bigger this time. God, Bradley loves to make you laugh. You just look so fucking happy. Happiness looks really, really good on you.

It isn't hard for him to imagine that you really are the best person to go to the bars with. He can imagine you in a pretty little skirt, sweat dampening your hairline as you twirl on the dance floor, the golden lights above you reflecting off the glitter on your eyelids. He can imagine that your warmth would be enough to heat the entire place. You seem like someone who is just down--down for anything and everything. He likes that.

"Ready?" You ask sweetly not a moment after, still laughing quietly.

He just nods, blinking rapidly at you.

The three hours honestly flies by. The pain really isn't all that bad, not when you're making conversation the entire time. By the end of the tattoo session, he knows where you grew up and that you don't have a boyfriend and that you have a cat named Strawberry and that you don't have a boyfriend and that your favorite food is street tacos and that you don't have a boyfriend and your first concert was Neil Young. Oh, and that you don't have a boyfriend.

And by the end of the tattoo, you know that Bradley is getting the tattoo in memory of his father, who was also in the Navy. You know that he has an affinity for Jerry Lee Lewis. You know that he has a vintage car and an endless collection of vintage Hawaiian shirts. You know he's gonna be stationed here indefinitely and that he hangs out at the local Navy bar--The Hard Deck. And you know that he is endlessly pleased that you don't have a boyfriend.

"Careful sitting up," you warn softly as you take your gloves off. "You've been laying down for a while. Want a hand?"

Bradley feels totally fine. He doesn't want to brag, but he's pushed his body to the brink in his life. Laying down for three hours having a conversation with the prettiest girl he's ever seen is like a luxury for him. But he wants to touch you--so he lets you grab his hand, lets you help him sit up.

And then the two of you are close--like close enough that he can smell that sweet, flowery musk on your skin. He can see the little flecks of his favorite color in your eyes and the way your lashes fan out over your cheeks.

And you can see his scars when you're this close, these pretty white lines that roll over his skin like ridges on a map. You like scars--as an artist, you think they're part of what make bodies art. They're the human equivalent to an eraser smudge.

He doesn't move for a moment, just looking down at you with that sweet smile, just letting his eyes wash over you. And you don't move from his gaze--you feel totally comfortable in it. You haven't known Bradley for long, but you're a good people reader. You can tell that this man, intrinsically, is a good person.

"Don't you wanna check out your new ink?" You ask with a teasing smile.

He makes a show of glancing down at his chest with his eyebrow perched. Then he hums and nods in approval. When he looks back up at you, you're biting a grin of your own.

"So," he starts softly. "Your availability tomorrow?"

[queenofwands89]

Quiet Affections

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Pilot!reader

Summary: After her friends tease her about Jake having a crush on her, Y/N reflects on certain memories that make her question whether there might be some truth to their playful jabs.

Warnings: Teasing, pining, Jake being a sweetheart, Y/N being oblivious, insults aimed at Y/N, protective Jake, mention and description of injury, anxiety, doubts, fluff.

Notes: Happy Friday, everyone! We made it! 🎉 I just hit 2,500 likes on here and wanted to thank each and every one of you who liked, reblogged, or commented on my works. It means the world to me. I’m down bad for Jake, and need him badly so I wrote this. Enjoy byeeee

You find yourself deep in the heart of the Hard Deck, the familiar hum of chatter and clinking glasses forming a comforting backdrop. Rooster, Natasha, Javy, Bob, Reuben, and Mickey are clustered around the pool table, laughter spilling freely as they take turns making shots and throwing jabs. Jake had just excused himself to go to the restroom, but not before brushing a lingering hand against your shoulder and whispering something that made you smile. This action set off a chain reaction of teasing directed at you.

"Y/N, you know Hangman’s got a huge crush on you, right?" Rooster's mustache twitches with a sly smile as he lines up for his shot.

You laugh it off, waving a hand dismissively. "Oh please, Bradley. Jake? No way. He's just... nice."

Rooster and Natasha exchange glances before Natasha cocks an eyebrow at you. "Nice? Hangman is many things, but nice isn't the first word I'd use. Unless he’s talking to you," she remarks, tapping her cue stick against her palm.

Bob, always the quiet observer, chimes in. "He's got a point though, Y/N. I've seen how he looks at you."

You can't help but roll your eyes. "I'm just completely unaware of it," you say, sarcasm dripping from your voice. "You guys are ridiculous."

Mickey grins, his boyish charm lighting up his face. "Maybe, but can you really deny the way he's always got your back?" he asks, leaning casually against the pool table.

Your first instinct is to rebut, but as their words settle in, you start to think about some of the things Jake had done for you. Not just the grand gestures like saving your hide in aerial combat, but the small, everyday things. The way he'd always save you a seat, bring you coffee exactly how you like it, offer subtle words of encouragement when you doubted yourself.

Javy steps forward, his competitive spirit twinkling in his eyes. "You're telling me you haven't noticed how he always goes out of his way to make sure you're okay?"

Reuben, good-natured but always vigilant, nods in agreement. "Hangman's not exactly an altruistic guy, Y/N. But for you? He'd go to lengths he wouldn't for anyone else."

You crack a wry smile, determined to stay firm in your denial. "He's just protective. We're teammates."

Natasha had already joined in, her voice warm yet teasing. “Don’t sell yourself short, Y/N. It’s not just about being teammates. He genuinely cares.”

In the ensuing silence, you can't help but ponder on their words. Jake "Hangman" Seresin is charismatic and assertive, traits forged from his exceptional flying skills and competitive nature. But beneath that cocky exterior, there lies a heart incredibly loving and caring, willing to sacrifice anything for his loved ones. Slowly, you find yourself drifting into a vivid memory, reliving the countless cherished moments and experiences you've shared with Jake.

You recall that evening at the Hard Deck vividly. The bar was buzzing with the usual chatter and laughter, the hum of camaraderie filling the air. You were amidst your friends, enjoying the rare downtime when an unfamiliar voice cut through the noise—this stranger making an offhand but cruel remark about you. The comment was subtle, yet it stung deeply, rooting you in place with a mix of shock and mortification. Your cheeks burned under the weight of the ridicule, words lodged in your throat.

Before you could muster a response, you felt Jake's presence beside you, solid and reassuring. He stepped forward, placing himself between you and the offender. His usual easy going demeanor was replaced by a steely resolve, his eyes dark with anger. "Do us all a favor and think before you speak," he said, his voice steady but carrying an unmistakable edge.

The bar fell into an uneasy silence as Jake’s glare pinned the offender in place. "If you've got a problem with Y/N," he continued, his voice low and unwavering, "you’ll be dealing with me."

The tension hung in the air, thick and palpable. The offender, unable to match Jake's intensity, muttered an apology and slunk away, deflated. The moment passed, but the impact lingered. Jake remained there a moment longer, ensuring the threat had fully dissipated before turning back to you.

As he met your gaze, the hardness in his features softened, replaced by a gentle concern. He reached out, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. "You okay?" he asked, his voice filled with a tenderness reserved just for you.

You felt an overwhelming wave of gratitude, the initial embarrassment giving way to a profound sense of relief. Jake had stood up for you without a second thought, his protective instinct leaving no room for compromise. In that moment, you knew you were safe, not just physically but emotionally, knowing Jake had your back. His touch and the concern in his eyes reassured you even more, providing a solace that words alone could not.

.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ .

Then there was the night when you couldn’t sleep, tormented by insecurities that gnawed at the edges of your mind. It was long past midnight, and you found yourself seated on the deck of the aircraft carrier, trying to get some fresh air to clear your head before the mission. The vast expanse of the ocean and the cool night breeze did little to quiet the whirlwind of self-doubt swirling inside you.

The stars dotted the sky like tiny beacons, and the waves below gently lapped against the ship's hull, but none of it brought you peace. You wrapped your arms around yourself, tense and lost in thought, barely noticing the sound of footsteps approaching.

Jake emerged from the shadows, his silhouette becoming clearer in the soft glow of the ship's lights. He paused when he saw you, his brow furrowing with concern. He looked around, ensuring no one else was around, before walking over to you with determined but careful strides.

"Y/N, what's wrong?" he asked, his voice breaking the solitude with an edge of worry.

You hesitated, feeling foolish for bothering him. "I…I just can't stop thinking about everything that's been going wrong. I don't know if I'm cut out for this, Jake."

Jake's eyes softened, and he lowered himself to sit beside you on the cold metal deck. "Tell me more," he said gently, coaxing you to open up. His voice was so steady, so soothing, that you found yourself pouring out all your fears and anxieties—the relentless pressure, the fear of failure, the nagging feeling that you weren't good enough. With each word, you felt a weight lifting from your chest.

Jake listened without interrupting, his usual cocky demeanor replaced by an unwavering focus on you. His eyes never left your face, and his expression remained kind and attentive. "You know what I see when I look at you?" he said quietly once you had finished. "I see someone who's brave, who fights every day to be better, who cares deeply about others. You're stronger than you think, Y/N. Don't let those doubts control you."

His words felt like a balm to your soul, soothing the raw edges of your insecurities. When he reached out to brush a stray tear from your cheek, the warmth of his touch and the sincerity in his eyes melted away your remaining doubts, leaving you wrapped in a cocoon of reassurance. Sitting there on the deck, under the endless sky, you felt profoundly grateful for Jake's unwavering support and the strength he helped you find within yourself.

.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ .

You also remember the time when you injured your ankle during a training exercise. You had insisted on limping back to your quarters, trying to maintain your independence. But Jake wouldn't hear of it. He had scooped you up without a second thought, cradling you in his arms as if you weighed nothing. "I've got you," he murmured, his voice laced with an uncharacteristic gentleness. The entire trek back, he kept you engaged in light-hearted banter, ensuring your mind stayed off the pain.

.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ .

And how could you forget the morning he had brought you coffee? Not just any coffee, but a complex, personalized concoction—an oat milk latte with a shot of caramel, a pinch of cinnamon, and a dash of nutmeg, and no foam. You hadn’t even mentioned it to him before. "Thought you could use a pick-me-up," he had said nonchalantly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. But you knew the effort he had put into remembering such a detailed order, and it made your heart swell with an unfamiliar warmth.

These memories play in your mind like a cherished montage, each moment a testament to the man beneath the bravado. Jake "Hangman" Seresin wasn’t just the cocky pilot everyone else saw. He was a protector, a confidant, a friend who cared deeply for you, even if you had been too blind to see it before.

Returning back to the present moment amidst the lively ambiance of the Hard Deck, surrounded by the warmth of friends and laughter, you notice Jake returning from the restroom. As your eyes meet, his familiar smirk emerges, but this time there’s a tender softness in his gaze that you hadn’t noticed before—or perhaps, hadn't allowed yourself to see.

“Miss me?” he jokes, sliding back into the chaos of pool cues and friendly banter.

You chuckle, shaking off the speculative thoughts. “Like a bad habit, Seresin.”

But later, as the night winds down and the camaraderie ebbs into a quieter hum, you catch yourself glancing his way more often. The teasing remarks of your friends aren’t so easily dismissed anymore. And as Jake catches your gaze across the room, you start to wonder if maybe, just maybe, they might be onto something.

Because sometimes, the most significant realizations are the ones that had been right in front of you all along, masked by the comfort of friendship and the chaos of duty.

You smile to yourself, feeling an inexplicable warmth. Maybe it was time to see what was beyond the camaraderie, to delve into the possibilities of what if. The thought lingers, like an unopened letter, waiting for the right moment.

For now, you return to the laughter and games, but with a new awareness, a curiosity that couldn’t be easily shaken. One thing was for sure—things were going to get interesting.

-

Text divider credits: @bunnysrph

[sometimesanalice]

That’s My Girl

Summary: Bradley has been looking after you for longer than he can remember. You’ve always been his favorite person. So when some guy makes an unwelcomed move on you, that last thing he’s going to do is just sit back and watch it happen.

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 6.7K

Warning: language, male chauvinism, allusions to smut, some angst with a happy ending

(author's note: this is a fic is set in the 'Like I Can' universe, however it can be read on it's own!

In hindsight, Bradley should have known how rowdy the crowd at the Hard Deck was going to be tonight.

Sailors fresh off a several months long deployment were always a boisterous bunch. But Sailors fresh from a deployment during San Diego Fleet Week were a different thing entirely.

The bar is packed and humid, even with the doors and windows opened for the Pacific breeze. Penny’s old air conditioning unit might be on its last legs because Bradley’s shirt is sticking to the skin of his back. He’d nearly lost his mind when he’d seen that bead of sweat work its way down your neck and between your breasts when you’d pressed a kiss to his cheek and told him you were getting a refill and asked if he wanted anything.

Bradley really hoped you’d be up for leaving soon. He wouldn’t mind taking a dip in the pool at your apartment. Or better yet, getting you to join him for a cool shower.

It wasn’t the just the deep v of your tank top- or those sweet little embroidered flowers along the edges of it- that hand his fingers twitching to touch you. Although he liked those too.

It was that damn bow.

When Bradley had picked you up from your apartment earlier this evening and seen you wearing that, he’d given you a wolf whistle so loud it had caused your neighbor’s dog to start barking.

He’d taken advantage of your surprised laugh to back you up against your front door to get his mouth along the column of your neck. He’s always been a big picture kind of guy. And he knew he wouldn’t be satisfied until he was tugging open that bow between your breasts with his teeth.

You’d all but sighed his name as your fingers tangled in his hair.

Bradley.

And just as he’d reached your collarbone, you’d pulled him back up to your mouth like you were going to kiss him and murmured Later against his lips before slipping past him, like the menace that you are, leaving him to chase after the trail of your perfume.

You knew what you were doing, that was for damn sure. He’s always been a sucker for a bow. And for you.

Bradley had more than appreciated the extra sway you’d put in your hips just for him as you walked down your hallway towards the elevator. He’d grinned to himself as he set off after you, because at the end of the night, his girlfriend would be coming home with him.

Earlier in the evening, Coyote had been fast to claim the cluster of tables that some Butterbars had left to close out their tabs, most likely onto their way to the next stop of many for the night. It was lucky timing, because there’d been a nonstop steady stream of people making their way into the unofficial designated Naval watering hole for Fleet Week. There was a mix of civilians, Naval regulars who are stationed at North Island, and the visiting Sailors dressed in their uniforms on liberty. Bradley wasn’t sure how many more bodies could be packed in until some of the worn wooden shingles of the bar started popping off.

The lively and loud atmosphere of Fleet Week was something that Bradley had typically enjoyed in the past. He liked seeing people cut loose and laugh as they swapped stories with their friends and families. And he’d been happy to do his part to add to the good times, having been pulled to the piano twice already.

Over the years he’d built up a curated collection crowd-pleasers for occasions just like this. Part peacocking, part coping. While he’s never been the type to shy away from being the center of attention, he’d also found it was easier to breathe in the spotlight. Because with everyone’s eyes on him, it was impossible to feel alone.

So much has changed for him since getting permanently stationed in San Diego. And all for the better. That loneliness was a thing of the past, because now when he played, he was surrounded by all of his favorite people

But Bradley still ends his impromptu sets the same way he always has, with Jerry Lee Lewis. Only now he gets to sing it directly to the girl who’d given him the sheet music to the song in the first place.

The same one, he’s realized, who hasn’t returned back from getting her refill yet.

Bradley takes a quick glance around the corner of the bar they’d laid claim too. Bob, Fanboy, and Payback were lounging against the side of the pool table chatting up some of the visiting Sailors, since there wasn’t enough room to actually play a round without taking someone out with one of the cues. Coyote was leaning over the jukebox flipping through the albums with a pretty civilian who was out with her friends that he’d met and was clearly trying to impress. And Jake and Nat were seated with him at one of the tall round tables taking about the new Top Gun students, where your chair next to him was still empty.

Everyone was accounted for, except you.

There are so many people packed around the edges of the bar that it takes him a moment to find you. He thought maybe you’d been held up by Penny or Jimmy or some other familiar face, but he doesn’t recognize the man who standing way too close to you. But the firm press of your lips tells him everything he needs to know.

He sees the next moment playout as if it’s in slow motion. Watching as you attempt to take a step back, only for the guy to wrap his hand around your wrist to keep you from moving away. Bradley sees you glance down at that hand on you, and back up at the stranger. He knows that look in your eyes as you shake out of his grip. You aren’t just annoyed, you’re pissed.

Bradley slams his beer down and shoves his stool back.

He hears Jake curse behind him, “Oh, shit.”

Chair legs screech against the wooden floor as his friends hustle to follow after him, but he doesn’t wait for them to catch up.

There’s a trail of spilled cocktails and beers in his wake as he unapologetically weaves through the tightly crammed bodies that separate him from you. If anyone has an issue with him later, they can put a refill on his tab. But right now, his only goal is getting to you.

He doesn’t slow for a second. He just struts right up and steps in between you and the other man.

“Do we have an issue here?” he rasps, folding his arms over his chest.

Bradley takes the guy in with a hard glower. The name tape on his uniform reads Wilson. A LTJG, based on his shoulder boards, from one of the visiting ships. The man is big, but Bradley is bigger. And he outranks him. The guy might not know it yet, but it was just another thing he was planning on making crystal clear.

You put a hand on his tense shoulder. “Everything is fine.”

“It sure as shit doesn’t seem fine.” He doesn’t take his glare off of Wilson. “I think it’s time for you to go now.” He jerks his chin towards the front door.

“We’re just having a friendly conversation,” the other man drawls, sending him a wink. The implied innuendo makes Bradley’s jaw clench. There wasn’t anything “friendly” about the way he’d been using his size to keep you trapped at the bar.

The guy is trashed. There’s a blankness behind his eyes that Bradley doesn’t like the look of. He must have pre-gamed before going out because Penny and Jimmy weren’t ones to overserve.

“No, what you’re doing is paying your tab and leaving this bar.” It’s an order.

“Bradley.” You say his name like a warning. “I’m handling it.”

You pull on his shoulder, but he shrugs you off.

“No, kid, I’m handling it for you.” This asshole was Bradley’s problem to deal with now. He’d tapped in the moment he’d seen the man touch you.

“I see.” Wilson’s gaze bounces back and forth between the two of you, an oily grin appears on his face. “You’ve already got someone for tonight lined up. Damn, you didn’t waste any time did you, sweet thing?”

Anger flares hot and bright in his stomach.

“You better watch your mouth,” Bradley spits, pointing a threatening finger.

The bar around him blurs around the edges, but the man in front of him only gets sharper in focus.

You step around him and tug on his arm. From the corner of his eye, he can see you shaking your head at him. “Bradley, stop. I told you, I’ve got it.” Your voice is clipped, tight. “Let me take care of it.”

He knows you want for him to let it go. To back off. And he’s about to- for you- because you want him to. But then he sees the guy’s eyes drop down to the exposed skin of your chest- to that bow between your breasts- and smirks.

It’s a look so filthy that even Bradley feels dirty. He operates out of instinct. Stretching his arm in front of you, he purposefully pushes you back behind him to where he knows Seresin is standing close by, trusting that his friend will move you out of the way.

“A barrack bunny like you must know her way around. I don’t mind another man’s sloppy-”

For a moment, Bradley isn’t at the Hard Deck anymore. He’s standing in Jason Cameron’s kitchen, where the smell of weed and cheap alcohol and Axe hung heavy in the air.

Bradley’s fist flies on its own.

He barely registers the moment his knuckles connect with the other man’s jaw. He doesn’t see the man stumble backwards into the table behind him. He doesn’t hear the surprised gasps or the sound of glass breaking or the thud as the man hits the floor. There’s only the color red and the sound of his own ragged breathing.

When he shakes off the memory and returns back to his body, he’s almost surprised to see the broken bottles on the floor and not shards from a sliding glass door.

The next few minutes are a flurry of chaos as Wilson’s friends come and scoop him off the floor to make their exit. From the looks of irritation on their faces, it seems like this might be an all too frequent occurrence. He makes a mental note to try and look up the man’s supervising officer. And if he can’t find them on his own, he’ll ask Mav to help.

He can feel dozens of eyes on him, but he can’t bring himself to care.

Bradley takes a moment to apologize to Penny. He avoids looking directly in her eyes, not wanting to see the disappointment he’s sure is there. The adrenaline is still coursing and sparking through his body. He needs a moment to work off his anger and get his head back on straight before he comes to check on you. But he knows you’re in good hands with his friends.

Without being asked, he rights the table and stools on his way to the supply closet to grab a broom and dustpan. He takes his time meticulously picking up the bits of broken glass off the ground before he sweeps the rest of it up as he waits for his heartrate to settle back down.

When he’s done, he spots Nat and Jake sitting at the bar top and heads towards them. But for the second time tonight, you’re not where you should be.

“That was some left hook, Bradshaw,” Nat says, pinning him with a flat look over the top of her drink.

He ignores the comment. “Have either of you seen my girlfriend?”

Jake lifts his hand up at about your height. “About this tall? Great smile? Dating a man that’s clearly punching?” He chuckles to himself. “No pun intended.” Those dimples of his are more grating than usual.

Bradley’s hand flexes in irritation. His quick fuse is on its way to being lit again.

“Seresin,” he barks, low on patience, “Where’d she go?”

The other man lets out a low whistle and shares a look with Nat. “She left out the side patio door like ten minutes ago. Looked like she was about to spit nails too.”

“Goddammit,” he mumbles under his breath. He turns to Phoenix. “Did she really look that pissed?”

She shrugs. “I’m surprised she didn’t punch you, I probably would have.”

Bradley’s mouth drops open. “For what? For defending her?”

All he did tonight was stand up for you when someone crossed a line and tried to get physical with you. He wasn’t ashamed for doing it, he’d do it again in a heartbeat.

“But did she want you to do that?” she asks, deliberately.

He doesn’t understand why Nat is giving him a hard time about this.

“That’s my girl and that guy wasn’t listening.”

Nat lifts a pointed eyebrow at him, “Sounds familiar.”

Bradley forces out a breath. “That was different and you know it.”

“All I’m saying is I think she was making herself pretty clear, but you chose not to hear her and did what you wanted anyways.” His teeth clench together as a rock lands hard in his stomach. “And from the sound of it, she wanted to handle it her own way.”

“Yeah, but…” You’re his, he wants to say, but holds back at the risk of sounding like the jealous boyfriend Nat thinks he’s being. Except he wasn’t being jealous, he just wanted to protect you.

“No buts, Rooster. You fucked up.”

Nat has always been a straightshooter. It was one of the things he’s always appreciated most about her, that and her keen ability to read people. He trusted her judgement. And if she feels this way, even if he didn’t necessarily agree with it, then the chances are very high that you do too.

“Shit.”

“Yeah, ‘shit’. Now go fix it.” She pats his shoulder once, and then gives him a shove to the side door they’d seen you leave from.

It’s cooler outside.

The ocean breeze feels good on his hot, sticky skin. Bradley feels like he can breathe a little easier without all those people milling around him.

You’re not hard to spot. To anyone else you’d a solidary figure facing the ocean, but he’d know the shape of you anywhere.

From what Seresin said, Bradley had figured you’d be half way down the beach. He’d been planning just to follow the trail of steam to find you. But you’re still as a statue with your arms wrapped around yourself as you stare out at the inky waves.

The noise from the bar is muffled inside the walls of the Hard Deck, but still slips out from the windows that are cracked open and follows him as he walks towards you. The sand shifts beneath his shoes with every step he takes. The tunes from Penny’s jukebox get carried away on the wind and are replaced with the gentle roar of the waves as he approaches you.

The days are getting longer and dusk is rolling in. The sun is hanging low in the sky. Not quite set, but well on its way. He’d love nothing more than to pull you into his lap in one of the Adirondack chairs to watch the last glimmering moments of golden hour with you in his arms. But knows that’s probably not in the cards for tonight.

The two of you have had fights before. Usually over stupid, inconsequential things. Arguing with you feels different now than when it did when you were just friends. Now that you’re his girlfriend, it feels like there’s more at stake. He knew he’d never forgive himself if he fumbled the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

Bradley wants to skip over this part to where the two of you are back on the same page. He wants to skip to the part where he gets to see your dimples and hear you laugh.

He stops just a few feet behind you. He knows you know he’s there, in that uncanny way you’ve always been able to sense him. The minutes tick by as he stands there and waits for you to acknowledge him. Or to turn around and shoot him that withering glare of yours. He’d take anything other than your silence.

But you don’t.

You give him nothing, which is almost worse.

It feels like a standoff.

He folds first.

“Sweet girl,” Bradley says, with a resigned sigh.

He doesn’t miss the way your whole body tenses at the sound of his voice.

“I don’t want to talk to you right now, Rooster.”

The way you say his callsign lands like a punch in the gut.

You’re only standing a few feet away from him, but it feels like the two of you are miles apart.

“C’mon, kid, that asshole is gone now. Come back inside.”

“Seriously?” you laugh bitterly, still refusing to look at him. “You’re seriously going to ignore me right now too? I said I don’t want to talk right now.”

He feels his jaw tick. “Look, I’m sorry,” he starts, still not feeling sorry in the least, “But-”

You put a hand up and whirl on him, shaking your head in disbelief. The thunderous look on your face would have a lesser man taking a step back, instead Bradley steels his spine and digs his feet into the sand.  

“I really don’t want to hear it. I don’t think I’ve ever been this mad at you,” you fume. “Not even in high school when you got in that stupid fucking fight at that Homecoming party when I had to take you to the hospital.”

He presses his lips together firmly. There was a time and place for a conversation about that night, the one where he’d earned the scars on his face, but it wasn’t here and now. It was a secret he’d kept to himself for nearly two decades, the only other person who’d known the full story was his mom. But telling you about it now would only make things worse.

You continue, like a freight train without brakes, “And you’d been drunk then. Not that that excuses anything. But you’ve had, what? Two beers tonight?” When you lift your eyebrows at him expectantly, he nods curtly in confirmation. “So tell me what the hell just happened in there?”

He swears that sharp flash of your eyes could cut glass.  A lick of heat bursts behind his sternum. Hot and fierce.

“He wasn’t backing off,” Bradley grits out, trying to summon the patience he doesn’t have. “What was I supposed to do? Give him a pat on the back and let him keep hitting on my girlfriend?” You scoff and he feels his pulse kick up in his throat. “I have always had your back, and I will always have your back.”

Bradley doesn’t understand why you don’t seem to understand that he’d do anything for you. He’s been looking out for you since your bike handlebars had iridescent tassels streaming from them, and if he has his way he’ll be looking out for you until his number is up.

“But that’s the thing, Rooster! You didn’t have my back in there,” you argue, stepping forward so you’re toe to toe with him. Your use of his callsign again chafes against his ears like sandpaper. “All you did was manhandle me out of the way to get at him and throw fists. I mean, Mav and Hondo would have let it slide if they’d been there to see that. But what about Cyclone? Would he? Why would you put your career at risk like that? What were you even thinking?”

You’re looking at him like you don’t know him, and he hates it. Because you’re the person who knows him best.

He runs a hand through his hair in agitation. He’s been trying to tame his temper, that caged animal that paced within the confines of the ribs in his chest. But his anger and frustration has been feeding off of yours, meeting it measure for measure.

“I wasn’t. I wasn’t thinking,” Bradley explodes, flinging his arms out to the side. “I’m not going to stop and make a damn pros and cons list while I watch some asshole being disrespectful and getting physical with you. It’s not going to happen, kid.”

“And I told you that I had it handled!” you exclaim.

The sound of the waves gets lost in the way both of your voices are raising with each and every parry in the verbal fencing match you’ve found yourselves in. This has escalated quicker than he ever could have expected, and all he wants is to find himself back on the same page with you.

“How am I the bad guy in all of this right now?”

“Don’t you get it? I’m not mad about you wanting you to be there for me, I’m mad about how you went about it. You literally pushed me out of the way and passed off to Jake, like my voice and feelings in that moment didn’t matter to you. Like you didn’t care about what I wanted. You have never treated me like that before.”

Guilt makes his stomach churn.

“You and I both know that’s not true,” he replies. It’s an uncomfortable truth.

That dark period after his mom died and how he’d treated you still haunted him sometimes. When he’d try to set fire to all the bridges around him, including his friendship with you. He hadn’t been worth knowing back then, but you’d never given up on him. He remembers it like it was yesterday, he’s never forgotten it. On the nights he couldn’t sleep, it was one of the many things that played out behind his eyelids like a highlight reel of all his worst moments.

Your eyebrows pinch together in confusion. He sees the moment it clicks for you because the fire that had been blazing behind those eyes he knows so well transforms into something softer. Something sadder.

“Bradley, I’m not going to hold onto something from when you were eighteen and hurting and heartbroken.” Your voice catches with emotion. “But tonight? Tonight, you made me feel small. And you’re the very last person I thought who’d ever make me feel that way.”

He can’t even enjoy hearing you say his name again, because you look so disappointed in him. The two of you stand there staring at each other, searching each other’s eyes as the waves rolling in along the shore fill the silence.

The way your lower lip wobbles steals the fight right out of him. All that righteous indignation that had been whirling in his chest is gone quicker than it came over him at the sight of the tears welling up along your lower lash line.

He’d let you down back then. And he’d let you down tonight too. He feels like he’s broken a promise to you, one he’d made with himself a longtime ago. Bradley wants to be the man whose shoulders you could lean on, the one you trusted to bet there to support you. He never thought he’d be the guy who makes you cry.

Bradley says your name tenderly. Every single letter of it is precious to him because you’re the most important person in the world to him.

The single tear that escapes the corner of your eye and rolls down your face cracks his chest wide open.

He holds out his hand for you, but you half-heartedly bat it away.

“No, I’m still mad at you,” you say, feebly. It’s unconvincing at best.

“You can be mad at me, kid,” Bradley murmurs, “But just let me hold you.”

He needs to know that you’ll still let him. That you still want him.

Bradley reaches out for you again and this time you let him pull you into his chest. And when you thread your arms around his torso and hold him just as tight that knot in his stomach loosens. He rests his chin on your head and releases a sigh. With you in his arms, he feels like his feet are finally back on solid ground.

He knows he owes you an apology, a real one this time. He knows that he’s fucked up, he understands where he went wrong. But he can’t shake the feeling that he feels like he’s missing something, that there’s another reason playing into why you’re so upset.

Every one of your quiet sniffles twists the knife that’s lodged itself between his ribs just a bit more each time.

He doesn’t know how long the two of you stand there wrapped up in each other, as he runs his hand up and down your back. There’s more to discuss, but he doesn’t rush you. He’ll hold you for as long as you need him to.

When you pull away, only far enough to look up at him, he takes the opportunity to gently cup your face in his hands. His thumb skims along the line of your jaw, your eyes are still watery.

“Sweet girl, why are you crying? I know you. Why does it feel like there’s more to this than just me being an idiot?” he asks, quietly. It still feels so fragile between the two of you.

“Because I l-like you so much. And I know you meant well, but I hated what happened tonight.” You wipe angrily at the fresh tears that streak down your face, like you’re irritated at them for them falling without your permission.  “My ex used to pull that kind of bullshit all the time and I always hated the way it made me feel.”

His hands fall from your face.

Your confession surprises him. “Jack?” Bradley asks, his eyebrows pulling together. You nod. “I thought you said he was fine? That the break up was mutual because things got stale between the two of you.”

It’s times like this where he’s reminded of just how much distance there between the two of you over the last decade before you moved to San Diego. Of how much of you he’s missed out on. All the little moments that made up someone’s life. There was only so much an email, or a text, or a call could do.

You sigh, heavily. “I’m realizing now that there were a lot of things I put up with Jack because I didn’t want to rock the boat.”

Bradley’s fingers flex involuntarily where his hands are resting your hips. He doesn’t know what to make of that admission.

“You got to give me more than that to work with, kid. Help me to understand.”

You run you hand along his forearm soothingly, like you can sense his unease. He slides his thumbs through the loops of your jeans, fixing himself to you.

“Jack was really good about wanting to show everyone that he was a good boyfriend. And he was- for a while.” You pause, pressing your lips together. “But there were a few times where we’d go out and he’d make a scene, like what happened tonight. Except instead of someone being an actual asshole, it’d be someone who’d started up some polite small talk with me as we waited in line. And it always became a bigger thing than it needed to be. Then afterwards, he’d make it seem like he was defending my honor or something, even though he knew I didn’t like the kind of attention and all the looks that came with it afterwards. But Jack was always about Jack, and he liked the hero edit his friends would give him.”

You look away from him towards the ocean, the sunset paints you golden. Bradley knows you’re collecting your thoughts, so he waits. When you’re ready, you turn back towards him. There’s a different kind of hurt reflected in your eyes, one that tells him tonight has opened up old wounds for you.

“He’d say all the right things around other people, but when it was just the two of us alone, I never got that side of him. At the time I believed he was saying them because he meant them, but I can see now that he never really showed me that he meant them. I took his words at face value and settled for them.”

You give him a self-conscious shrug. Like you’re embarrassed. But your big heart was one of the things he loved most about you, and he hated the idea that someone had been careless with it before it made it into his safekeeping.

Bradley swallows hard. That tonight reminded you of the low points in your past relationship is hard for him to hear. And knowing why, makes it even worse.

“I think, more than anything,” you continue, your voice much quieter now, “I’m just mad that I let myself get lost in that for so long. Like I knew I needed more and that I wanted more, but I kept putting him ahead of myself when he wasn’t doing that for me.”

You thread your fingers between his and squeeze them lightly. He squeezes yours back.

“But you, Bradley, say the right things and mean them. You show me how important I am to you, with or without an audience. No one has ever made me feel as special as you do. Like, you don’t buy me red roses because you think you should-”

“Wait,” he doesn’t mean to cut you off, but his mind has snagged on a critical detail, “I thought your favorite flowers were tulips?”

A soft smile coasts over your pretty face. “They are.” He loves the warm way you’re looking at him right now, tender and fond. “And that’s what I’m talking about. You show me all the ways you know me because you care about me and want to make me happy. You don’t treat me like I’m an accessory in your life. I mean, I didn’t feel like I could even hang art on the walls of the apartment I paid half the rent for without Jack having an opinion on it. And here you are letting me bring over kitchen towels and plants for you, and we don’t even live together yet.”

Yet. Such a small word, but it means so much to know that you’re envisioning the same future with him that he sees with you.

“I like that you do that. I want you to do that. I appreciate the way you show me you’re thinking about me too.” Bradley runs his thumbs over the back of your hands. “Although, I’d rather be the one buying them,” he says, only partly teasing.

You made his house feel like a home. He hadn’t had that in so long. He wanted you to have things there in his condo that you also liked and made you happy because he wanted you to stay. He couldn’t wait for the day the two of you shared one address instead of two.

“Does that mean I should return the throw pillows I found for you?” He spots a wink of your dimples. “They’re soft, but firm enough that you won’t hurt your neck when you inevitably fall asleep on the couch even though you claim you’re just ‘resting your eyes’.” He never wants you to stop teasing him.

“No,” Bradley chuckles. “They sound perfect, but you’re going to let me Venmo you for them.”

“Ok, fine,” you agree. Almost reluctantly.

God, he loves you.

He leans in to kiss you. Once. Twice. Soft, sweet.

Bradley lets go of one of your hands to settle on your lower back and press you closer to him, until there’s no space between your two bodies. And brings the other one, with your fingers still tangled with his up against his chest. Before resting his forehead against yours.

“I’m so sorry I made you feel like that tonight.”

“Thank you, I forgive you.” You set the hand not entwined with his on the side of his face, your thumb sweeps across his cheek. “But I need you to hear me when I say that I can hold my own just fine, Bradley. I know you want to have my back and look out for me, but please, just not like that. Even if your heart is in the right place, ok?”

He nods. “I hear you, sweet girl. It’s not going to happen again. I promise.” He turns his head and presses a kiss to your palm. And then lifts the one still in his up to his lips, and drops a kiss to the back it.

“Plus, you taught me how to throw a punch, remember? I’m pretty sure I broke a guy’s nose one time,” you grin.

“Atta girl,” he says with pride. It’s so much lighter between the two of you now. He takes a couple step back, letting go of you and giving you a not-so-subtle onceover. “Ok, hot shot, show me what you got.” Beckoning you over with both hands.

“I’m not going to punch you, Bradley.”

“C’mon, kid, show me how it’s done.”

You shake your head at him in amused disbelief. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

“No ma’am.” He taps his finger on his abs. “Let’s see it.”

You roll your eyes at him fondly. Then you hook your thumb over the top of your fist, just like he showed you all those years ago. And you ever so slowly, ever so gently press your perfectly aligned fist into his stomach. It could hardly even be considered a graze.

He doubles over with an overexaggerated oof and then tilts his head up at you and winks with a smile.

“You’re ridiculous.” The sound of your laugh fills his lungs.

It’s the same sound when he’d toss you into the pool when you were twelve. It’s the same sound when he’d spin you on the big tire swing when you were fourteen. It’s the same sound when he twirled you around the dance floor when you were nineteen at your mom’s second wedding.

There’s not just a glimmer of your dimples anymore, the full force of them hits him right in the chest.

“Speaking of punching,” Bradley says, straightening back up. “Hangman thinks I’m punching up.”

“Oh, does he? Interesting,” you hum. Your eyes shine in amusement.

He grins. “He’s not wrong. You’re way out of my league.”

You softly shake your head at him. “I’m just right for you. And you’re just right for me.”

He couldn’t agree more, but you don’t give him the chance too because you’re threading your arms around his neck and pulling his mouth to yours. With you in his arms and his lips on yours, he feels whole. You weren’t just right for him, you were perfect for him. And he’d never stop trying to be the perfectly right man for you.

No one’s ever had him, not like the way you do.

You’d always had a special place in his heart, but now the whole thing belonged to you. It was yours for the taking. He knew it would be in good hands with you, and he wasn’t going to stop proving to you that he was the one to be trusted with yours.

“Do you want me to take you home or do you want to go back inside?” He asks against your lips.

You kiss him again. “Let’s go back,” you say, wrapping your arm around his waist. “You owe me a dance, you know.”

He drops an arm over your shoulder. “I do?”

“You do.”

“Well then, lead the way, sweet girl.”

After he twirls you around on the crowded makeshift dancefloor of the Hard Deck, you let him take you home. Where he apologizes to you again, but this time on his knees with your thigh thrown over his shoulder. And twice more in your bed for good measure.

But not before he got his teeth on that little bow of yours.

He never stood a chance against it.

𝐚 𝐟𝐞𝐰 𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐤𝐬 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫

Bradley is about to line up his next shot at the pool table when Jake saddles up and nudges his shoulder.

“Looks like your girl has an admirer.” Hangman points with his beer bottle, directing Bradley’s gaze to the bar where someone is chatting you up.

He recognizes him from the most recent batch of Top Gun students. To call him overconfident would be an understatement. The guy is clearly as full of himself on the ground as he is in the sky, based on his body language as he monologues to you, all puffed up chest and cocky smiles.

If the guy had any common sense, he’d see that you look like you’d rather be anywhere else. It’s written all over your face.

“So it seems,” Bradley agrees, rests a hip against the table.

He’d noticed the guy checking you out. But it was pretty ballsy of the aviator to be leaning into you the way that he is, considering the two of you had arrived together and that Bradley had been the one tasked with doing some demonstration trainings with them earlier in the week.

The man makes some big gestures with his hands, he’s clearly reached the part of his story that’s meant to impress you. Bradley chuckles to himself when he sees the less than subtle roll of your eyes.

“Are you going to go all Rocky Balboa on his ass?” Jake asks with a knowing smirk.

You must feel their eyes on you, because you glance over in their direction.

He knows you can handle yourself, but he’ll be there if you want him to be.

Bradley lifts his eyebrow in a silent question. You give him a slight shake of your head and he nods.

“Nah, she’s got it.”

He sees the moment the guy fucks up and oversteps, because your eyebrows shoot up. You’re his sweet girl, but he knows the other guy is in for it when look that promises the best kind of trouble settles over your face.

His favorite menace.

Bradley watches on as you lean over the counter and ring the bell with enthusiasm.

A cheer goes up throughout the bar. He brings his fingers up to his lips and lets out a loud whistle.

You look rightfully smug as Penny points out the wooden sigh strung up between the beer taps to the confused Top Gun student whose bank account will be hurting in the morning.

“Damn. I forgot the kid is a straight hustler,” Jake says, clearly impressed.

“She sure is,” Bradley grins, still looking at you, “It’s a good thing she likes you or you’d be screwed.” He pats Jake’s shoulder reassuringly, before pressing the cue into his hands.

You return a few minutes later, with a tray of frothy, freshly poured beers for everyone wearing an all-to-pleased grin that lights up the whole bar.

He waits until the beers are safely on the table before threading a finger through your beltloop and tugging him to you.

“That’s my girl.”

Bradley tilts your face up for a kiss. It’s not his best work, you’re making it difficult for him since you’re too busy smiling.

He wouldn’t have it any other way.

Disclaimer: my writing playlist included Cassandra, The Prophecy, and Castles Crumbling. So legally I cannot be held accountable for any angst hangovers.

Thank you for reading!

If you want to see what happens next for these two, click here!

You can read more of my stories here!

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