#rooster bradshaw x fem!reader

[familyvideostevie]

october fifteenth

day fifteen: bradley "rooster" bradshaw after a hookup, you and bradley spend an unexpected night together | friends to lovers, only one bed, 18+, mdni, fem!reader, sex, porn WITH plot | 3.7k detailed content warnings: fem!reader, rooster jacks off in the shower, dirty talk, mentioned oral (m receiving, f receiving, doesn't happen on the page), fingering, p in v sex)

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It was meant to be much easier.

A full day of driving: San Diego to Napa in 10 hours, if you’re lucky. But Bradley is a good driver and it was cheaper than flying this time of year if you split gas and you really thought it would be fine. That’s what you told yourself.

“Fucking Nat,” you mutter, inaudible over the pounding of the rain on the windshield. Of course she had to have her fucking birthday party — which is really just a party with the other aviators and you — in Napa, of all places. Of course she’d suggest you and Bradley drive together.

Of fucking course.

“I think we’re going to have to call it,” Bradley says. He’s white knuckling the wheel, which can’t be a good sign considering he flies million dollar jets for a living. “This isn’t going to get any better and I’m worried we’ll get stranded if we wait too long to pull off.”

It really is pouring. It started a half hour ago and hasn’t let up since. And now it’s dark and you can barely see in front of you with the headlights on.

“Yeah, okay.”

He pulls off at the next exit — you think you’re somewhere south of San Francisco, maybe near Carmel? You look for a motel on your phone as the car crawls down the empty exit ramp.

“There’s a Days Inn in .5 miles if you turn…right?” you tell him. “That work?” Bradley doesn’t look at you, eyes focused on the road. His jaw is tense.

“Is that okay for you?” You’re not sure what he’s implying. At this point, you don’t really care where you stop as long as you do.

“Cheap is fine,” you say. “I just want to sleep.”

The corner of his mouth pulls up for just a second. “Me too. Maybe we can order food, or something. I’m starved.” He’s always hungry.

“Okay.”

Rooster is a good guy. You know it, everyone knows it. Nat knows you have a bit of a thing for him, which is why you’re in this car. What she doesn’t know is that you and Bradley…got drunk at the last Hard Deck theme night and made out in the bathroom. You had his tongue in your mouth and your legs around his waist and his hand on your breast and you felt him through your thin shorts and. Well. What Nat doesn’t know is you remember all of it in excruciating detail, the sounds he made, the way he groaned your name, his hands on your skin, and Bradley, it seems, remembers none of it. He has not called you or brought it up since.

Is that bad? Not really. Maybe he doesn’t remember. You were both pretty drunk, though you distinctly remember him asking you Are you sure? as he hoisted you onto the bathroom counter. But whatever. Maybe he regrets it and is saving face because you’re all friends and it would make things awkward, especially before Nat’s big weekend. Maybe he doesn’t like you at all and he’s embarrassed. You’re not about to ask him and find out when you still have hours on the road together.

The Days Inn is a typical California motel — doors on the outside, mercifully covered by an overhang. Rooster parks as close to the reception office as he can. “I’ll go get rooms and then park wherever they are,” he tells you. “Stay here?”

“Not going anywhere.” Neither of you have raincoats so he just takes a deep breath and then shoves the door open and makes a run for it. You sigh.

God damn. He really was a good kisser. Sitting next to him for the last few hours hasn’t been awkward, not really, but you’ve had to stop yourself from staring. At his chorded forearms, the tan expanse of his neck. His hands, the memory of them pressing into your hips hard enough to bruise, his thumb rubbing your nipple through your shirt that night —

Fuck. He’s been nothing but nice to you, which somehow makes it worse. He ghosted you, maybe without knowing, and all you want to do is touch him. It’s driving you insane.

The car door opens and you jump a little, eyes flying open. You hadn’t realized you’d closed them.

“Sorry,” Bradley says. “Good news and bad news.” He turns in his seat so he’s facing you as much as he can. He shivers a little. He must be cold. “They have…a room,” he says slowly. “And it’s, uh, only one bed. A queen.”

“Oh,” you say. You can’t think of a single other word.

“Yeah,” he continues. He runs a hand through his wet hair. “She said that everyone is booked up because of the storm. I got the room, but I can tell her we don’t want it and we can keep driving if you want, find somewhere else around here. Or I can just sleep on the floor, obviously, but I don’t want you to —”

“It’s okay,” you interrupt. “Bradley, it’s fine. No big deal. We can share the room and the bed.” He blinks and you look anywhere but his face. “It isn’t safe to keep driving and we’re both tired and need something to eat.” The bed, though…you’re not sure what to think of your offer but it’s too late to take it back now.

He nods once, a sharp jerk of his chin. A drop of water runs down his nose. “Okay.” He drives around to the back of the hotel and parks in front of what you assume is your room. “Ready?”

You grab your bags from the back seat and throw open the door, hopping out and running the few feet until you’re under the overhang. Only a few seconds and you still feel like you’re soaked.

Bradley unlocks the door with an rusty key on a blue tag and gestures for you to go in. “There’s a local pizza place that’ll deliver in this,” he says, locking the door behind you. “At least the reception lady thinks so. I have their number and I can call them?”

You keep talking to each other in questions, like you’re both unsure of yourselves. It’s…strange. You put your stuff down on the — yep, one — bed and sit, toeing off your wet shoes.

“Whatever you want is fine.” You shiver. “I’m cold so I’m going to, uh, take a shower. Unless you want to?” A question again.

Bradley shakes his head. “No, you go. Get warm. I’ll go after.”

You grab the first comfortable and dry thing from your bag you can find and bring it into the bathroom with you. Fuck. How are you going to do this?

The shower does wonders to warm you up but you can hear Bradley’s voice through the wall, low and steady as he talks to the pizza place. Your hand drifts down your stomach, ghosts between your legs before you yank it away. No. Get it together. You’re friends.

Enough of that. You towel off and put on your clothes only to find that you…didn’t bring your shorts into the bathroom with you. You stare at your underwear and t-shirt hopelessly as if it’ll make them appear. “Are you fucking kidding me,” you say. You could use your hair towel and wear it like a skirt but your hair is wet and your t-shirt is white and the only other towel in here is for Bradley. “This cannot be real,” you tell your reflection.

Nothing to be done, it seems. You’re going to have to go out there in only a t-shirt that barely hangs past your ass.

So you do. Bradley clears his throat. You glance at him and he shifts in the chair he’s in at the tiny table. “Pizza should be here soon,” he says, gruffly. His eyes don’t seem to know where to land. “I’m going to shower.”

He’s up and through the door before you can say anything. “Okay, then,” you mutter. You dig in your bag for your sleep shorts and…can’t find any. Great. You’re going to share a bed with him in only a t-shirt.

Someone rings the doorbell and you abandon all pretense and take the towel from your head and wrap it around your waist. The peephole reveals it to be the pizza, so you open the door and a teenager hands it to you without a word and runs back to his car.

“Thanks!” you call. You set it on the table and hear the shower still running. “Pizza’s here!” you yell through the wall.

Bradley makes a noise that sounds like a curse. “Go ahead!” he shouts back.

“Fine,” you say to the empty room. “Don’t mind if I do.” You crack open the box and see that he’s gotten all the stuff you like. You have no idea how he knows that.

You’ve had two pieces by the time he comes out. It’s like a fucking porno the way the door opens and steam rushes out to reveal Bradley, shirtless and damp, a towel wrapped around his waist. The temperature of the room seems to shoot up exponentially.

You fist one hand in the towel you’ve draped across your lap and don’t even try to look away. “Forgot my clothes out here,” he mutters. You don’t say anything. You watch the muscles of his back flex, watch the water drip down his shoulder blades. You can see the v of his hips, the hair that disappears under the towel.

You wonder how big his dick is.

Good god. Cut it out.

He rifles through his own bag and you watch that, too. You swallow and press a palm to your cheek. God, you’re flustered. There’s no way you can sleep next to him like this. You have to face it head on.

“Bradley,” you say. Your voice is lower than you’d expected.

“Yeah?” He doesn’t turn around.

“Do you remember that night at the Hard Deck?”

He stills for just a second, so quick that you wouldn’t notice if you weren’t staring at him.

“Which one? We’re there a lot.”

Okay, that’s it. You stand, leaving the towel on the chair as you walk across the scratchy carpet to stand right behind him.

“C’mon,” you say, serious now. “You know that I’m talking about.”

He turns around and seems a little startled to see you so close. His eyes rake down your form and linger on your bare legs before snapping up to your face.

“Do you remember it?” he asks. His hands are fists at his sides.

You are getting frustrated. “Well, I’m asking, aren’t I? Why haven’t we talked about it?”

“You were drunk!” he says, exasperated. He runs his hands through his hair, biceps flexing in a way that makes you press your thighs together even tighter. “I took advantage of you!”

The laugh that comes out of you is like a bark. “You did not,” you say. “You didn’t, Bradley, I remember it all and I wanted it all.” It’s true. You were drunk, but if anything it gave you the courage to rub your ass against him on the dance floor, to take his hand and drag him to the bathrooms, to read his blown pupils for desire.

He looks stressed. “Nat said you were throwing up like, twenty minutes later!”

You wince. Yeah, that did happen, but that was on you. “That was an ill-timed shot and too many chicken wings,” you admit.

Bradley tips his head back and stares at the ceiling, sighing your name. You want to lick the vein in his neck.

You reach out and put your palm on his bare abdomen. His muscles contract and you feel it as well as see it. He might be the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. “If you want to forget it, just tell me,” you say softly. “If it was a mistake or your embarrassed to have done it with me—”

His hand circles your wrist. “No,” he says firmly. “No.” Softer this time. “I don’t regret it. It wasn’t…I—” He takes a breath that you feel. “I just thought I fucked it all up.”

“Fucked what all up?” The air in the room is still hot but it’s like time has stopped. Like nothing apart from you two matters.

“My chance with you,” he says softly. Bradley looks at you, pupils blown but with such a raw expression it takes your breath away. This man is so much more than he appears.

“Oh,” you breathe. “No, I don’t think you did.” He couldn’t. You don’t know what it would feel like to not want him.

He releases your wrist and reaches for your face, his wide palms settling on your jaw. You close your eyes and wait for him to commit, wait for him to finish what he started, and he does. His lips are light on yours at first but once you press back it turns into something firmer. You wrap your arms around his neck and his hands move, one sliding under your shirt to grab your bare hip and the other winding in your hair.

The kiss turns messy, tongues and teeth until his lips trail down your neck. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since that night,” he pants, nipping and soothing with his tongue.

“I’ve wanted more than that,” you gasp. You grasp his biceps for dear life.

“Oh yeah?” His fingers brush the bottom of your breast. “If it’s a competition, I’m winning,” he rasps in your ear. “I had to jack off in the shower just now after you came out here in a t-shirt.”

You groan. You actually groan at his words. You slide one hand down his damp skin until you find the edge of the towel still around his waist. “Can I?”

“Yes,” he hisses. You tug on it and it gives, falling to the ground at your feet. You look down and find his cock already hard, ruddy and weeping, demanding your attention.

“See how badly I want you?” Bradley backs you up until your knees hit the bed and you sit down suddenly. And there he is, naked head to toe, chest flushed and heaving and all you’ve done is kiss. You get an eye full — he’s big, no surprise there — as he takes himself in hand and strokes, eyes fluttering shut. Your clench around nothing. He’s going to ruin you.

“Let me do that,” you say. Maybe he’ll let you suck him off. You can imagine his weight on your tongue, his hands in your hair as you gag around him.

“Won’t last long,” he pants. “Next time.”

Next time. That sounds nice. You scoot back on the bed, shoving your bag to the floor, and pull off your shirt. It goes flying somewhere that doesn’t matter. Bradley groans, stroking himself slowly as he watches you. “Look at you,” he says. “Better than I imagined.”

He goes back to his bag to dig through it a bit desperately and you stretch out on the bed. It he doesn’t touch you soon you might die. You spread your legs wide and look down to find a wet spot on your panties. Fuck. He’s hardly touched you and you’re soaked.

Your fingers work their way under the damp material and you run them through your folds and sigh with pleasure, eyes fluttering. “What did you imagine?” you ask.

“All sorts of things,” he says. “I’m very creative.” He makes a triumphant noise and holds up a condom. His eyes narrow when he sees what you’re doing on the bed. “Fuck. I —” He swallows. His cock twitches. “Do you want to?”

“Oh, I want you to fuck me, Bradley.” His nostrils flare. “Like, right now.”

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he mutters. He saunters over to the bed looking better than your best wet dream. “You have no idea how goddamn good you look right now. Can you take those off for me, sweetheart?”

The pet name coincides with the pads of your fingers brushing your clit and you moan. Right now, you’re pretty sure you will do anything he asks of you. You pull your panties off and toss them.

“Spread for me,” he says. You do and he puts his hands on the insides of your thighs and just looks. It makes you a little shy but you also feel…powerful. There is hunger in his gaze, raw want and desire. He licks his lips and strokes your skin. “Here’s my plan,” he says.

You throw an arm over your eyes. Always a man with a plan.

“I’m going to fuck you with my fingers first,” he says. His fingertips trail up your thigh and you squirm. One of them brushes your clit ever so slightly. “And then I’ll fuck you properly until you scream.” His thumb presses down on it. You keen, high and long. Bradley ignores it. “And then we’ll eat more pizza and then I’ll have desert.”

His hands disappear and you whine. “Do I get some, too?” Bradley laughs and despite the situation, the filthy, filthy things he’s saying, it sounds genuine. You pull your arm away to look at him. He tosses the condom on the bedside table.

“You get whatever you want, sweetheart.”

He kneels on the bed, crawls up your body and kisses you deeply. You feel him hot and hard against your stomach. “Does that sound good?”

You nod. “Get to it, Lieutenant.”

He groans like you’ve touched him. Bradley kisses you firmly, his mustache scratchy in the most delicious way as he licks into your mouth. One of his hands pays attention your nipples and the other slips down your stomach to your folds.

“God,” he says against your jaw. “You’re so wet.” He circles your clit a few times before pressing one finger inside you. You know right away it’s not enough. You fist one hand in the sheets and the other in his hair. “Prettiest cunt I’ve ever seen. All for me.”

“More,” you groan. “More, please.” You think he might tease you but he obeys right away, giving you another one as he starts to fuck you with them. You’re so wet that it’s making filthy noises as you writhe under his touch.

If you had more presence of mind you’d try to make it good for him, too, jerk him or at least pay him some kind of attention, but you’re barely hanging on. He ruts against your thigh as your pleasure builds.

You grab for him desperately, bringing his face as close as you can get it. “Fuck me,” you say. “Please, Bradley.”

Your plea seems to undo him. “Yeah?”

You nod frantically. He pulls away and you try to catch your breath as he tears open the condom and rolls it on. You keep your legs spread and he settles back between them, hands on your thighs as he looks at you again. “You’re so beautiful,” he says.

“That’s nice.” You arch your back. “Please fuck me now.”

He laughs again. His chest is flushed and damp, eyes bright and pupils blown. “Okay, sweetheart.”

He drags the head of his cock through your folds a few times before hitching one of your legs around his hip and pressing into you slowly, slowly, slowly.

“Talk to me,” he gasps.

He’s big, but you want him so badly that the stretch comes easy. It feels incredible. “Keep going, I—” It’s like you can feel every inch of him. Every vein, every ridge. You could lie here with his cock inside you forever. “God, how big are you?”

He laughs but it’s a rasp and a groan all in one. “Almost done, baby.”

“Baby,” you mock. You love it.

Bradley presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Hush.”

Just when you’re starting to think that maybe you can’t take him, he bottoms out and you’re both panting.

He steadies himself over you and you hook your ankles behind his back and roll your hips.

“Fuck,” he hisses. “This might not go as long as I’d hoped.”

“Fine with me so long as you get going.” He presses his forehead to yours and starts to move, his hips going slow and then faster when you urge. His cock drags along your walls as he gets impossibly deep with every thrust. One of his huge hands presses into your side hard enough to bruise and you hold on for dear life.

The rain is probably still pounding outside but you don’t hear it over the smacking of his balls against your skin, the sound of your slick, your combined moans.

“God, you feel so good,” he pants, breath hot on your face. “Taking all of me, so tight—” He kisses you but it’s more like a desperate press of his mouth to yours.

“Bradley,” you manage. “Bradley I—” All words seem too far away, so you settle for chanting his name, your nails digging into his back.

“C’mon, baby,” he says. “So close, so close, yeah? Lemme feel you.”

One of his hands rubs roughly at your clit, the coil in your belly winding tighter and tighter and you can only get out one last gasp of his name before it snaps and you jerk in his hold, back arching and cunt spasming around him, clenching over and over.

“Fuck,” he hisses. “Fuck, just like that, oh shit —” And then he’s chanting your name in a punched out voice and his thrusts become erratic. You come down from your high just as he begins his, body stilling above you as he thrusts, once, twice, then shudders.

He pulls out of you and flops to your side. You’re both sweaty and panting.

Bradley’s hand reaches blindly until he finds yours and kisses the back of it.

“Can I take you out?” he says. “When we get back?”

He just fucked you within an inch of your life and he’s asking you on a date?

You laugh, exhausted and thrilled. “Sure, Bradley.”

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here! promptober masterlist, find all fics under #fvspromptober23

[katsu28]

hi Kait!! might i be able to request "Black Dahlia - a lie" with Bradley bradshaw pleaseeee thank you!

ngl i think i got a little too carried away with this but man oh man did i have fun, pls enjoy!

black dahlia: a lie, bradley "rooster" bradshaw x reader, rooster is a total simp, 2.3k

Rooster had a staring problem. Sometimes he spaced out in the middle of a training debrief without realizing he was looking straight at Phoenix the whole time, sometimes his furrowed brows made Maverick think he was angry at something when in reality he was just focused. Sometimes he creeped random people out because he just…didn’t know he was staring. 

But most times, the unsuspecting focus of his staring was you. There was just something about you that had his eyes searching for you in every room he entered, drew his eyes to you every time you entered. He just couldn’t help it. Everything about you, from the way you laughed, to the way that you said his name, to the way your eyes sparkled when you smiled at him. Even the way you elbowed him in the ribs when he made a terrible joke had him hooked on you. 

And you had no idea. 

“Rooster. Rooster, you didn't laugh at my—what are you even looking at?” Hangman sounded deflated, but once his eyes tracked Rooster’s line of sight to you he knew what was going on in that feathery nicknamed brain of his friend. He’d known it pretty much all along. It was an unspoken thing, but he knew. Everyone knew. Everyone except you, apparently. 

“Oh, I see it now. You don’t like my jokes as much as you like Y/N.”

Rooster tore his gaze from where you were chatting with Penny at the bar to see Hangman with his hands on his hips, looking entirely too smug. “Sorry, what?” His ears had picked up the blond man’s jest, but surely he’d heard it wrong. 

“There’s no shame in admitting it. You have a crush on her.” 

“I’m not ashamed, I’m just—” 

“So you do have a crush!” 

Rooster scowled, brows pinching in the middle as he gripped the neck of his beer a little tighter. “I’m a grown man, I don’t have a crush.” 

“So you’re in love.” 

“What? No, I’m not—we’re…friends, that’s it.” 

“You’re a terrible liar, Bradshaw.” Phoenix cut in, poking him in the gut with the end of her pool cue. “Cut the shit and let us know how you really feel.” 

There really wasn’t any way out of this other than to tell the truth, so he sighed. “Okay, so maybe—just maybe—I might possibly have some feelings for Y/N.” 

“Yeah, and those feelings are called love,” Hangman said smugly, an ever present smirk gracing his face once again. He wasn’t wrong. He was actually right on the money, but Rooster would be damned if he let that son of a bitch know he was right. 

“Screw you, Hangman. I’m not talking about this anymore.” 

He thought he must’ve sounded more serious than he’d intended, because Hangman actually shut up for once, zipping his lips with an imaginary key before miming throwing it over his shoulder. Phoenix just nodded, knowing well enough not to push her luck with the subject. 

Nothing about the conversation was mentioned the rest of the night, especially not when you’d made your way back over to the group of them and stayed for a while. Rooster almost forgot about it until a few days later. 

Flight training had let out for the day a little later than usual, nearing half past seven when the pilots were finally trailing into the parking lot to go home. 

“Up for a round at the Hard Deck, fellas?” Hangman offered. There were a few mumbled declines to the invitation scattered amongst the squad and he looked disappointed. Leave it to Hangman to still have energy for a beer after the grueling day they’d all just had. 

Rooster had half a mind to say no too. All he wanted to do was go home and sit on the couch and probably do nothing for the rest of the night, that’s how tired he was. He wandered towards where he’d parked the Bronco this morning, getting almost halfway there when he heard Hangman’s voice again. 

“Phoenix, c’mon, I know you’ll do me a solid this time. I’ll buy. I’ll even let you win at pool!” 

“No can do, Bagman, I’m in a time crunch—gotta get to Y/N’s house.” 

Upon hearing your name, Rooster froze, willing himself to walk away, but his curiosity won out very quickly. He turned around as casually as he could, hiking his duffel a little higher on his shoulder. “Everything okay?” 

“Yeah, she’s fine. She asked to borrow a necklace for her date tonight, so I gotta pop over there before she heads out.” Phoenix shrugged, patting her jacket pocket. Rooster couldn’t help the way his eyebrows flew up in surprise and she noticed, knowing smile already gracing her lips. “Everything okay with you, Bradshaw?” 

“Fine. It’s, uh—no, yeah everything’s good.” He mumbled, clearing his throat. Hangman coughed from behind him, sounding suspiciously like ‘bullshit’, but Rooster paid him no mind. He was more focused on the fact you were going on a date with someone else. Someone that wasn’t him. 

Then again, who the fuck did he think he was, having some kind of bullshit thoughts about who you went out with. He had no right, he knew that. But that didn’t stop him from feeling like he’d just been punched in the gut. 

“Hey, why don’t I drop it off for you?” He blurted, pressing his lips into a thin smile. Phoenix looked confused. He was confused at himself too, honestly. What the hell was he doing? “I just, I mean your place is the opposite way and I’m gonna pass her neighborhood anyways, so…I can do it.” Now she looked amused. 

“Since when did you get all helpful and shit?” 

“Pretty sure I’ve always been helpful.” 

“You sure there’s no other reason why you’re volunteering to see her? None at all? Maybe one starting with L and rhyming with shove?” Hangman chimed in, grinning wickedly. Phoenix nodded in agreement, her smile now mirroring his. 

“I’ll shove you, Hangman. Shut up.” Rooster said sharply. He turned his gaze back to Phoenix. “No. No other reason. I’ll drop it off on my way home and that’s it.” 

It was a bold faced lie and he knew his friends saw right through it, but he didn’t really care. 

“Okay. Suit yourself.” She shrugged, fishing the necklace out of her pocket and pouring it into his outstretched hand. “Would ya look at that, Bagman? Looks like I’m free to beat you at pool after all.” 

“I’m not buying you a beer anymore, that was a one time offer and it’s expired,” Hangman protested, much to Phoenix’s chagrin because she scoffed. 

“Like hell it has! You promised a free beer and a win, I expect you to deliver. But make an effort to play fair, don’t just throw the game ‘cause that wouldn’t be a good look for me.” 

Rooster could hear their bickering until he hopped into his car, but he peeled out of the parking lot in a blink, on the move to you. 

He didn’t have a wisp of a plan in his mind when he pulled to a stop in front of your place. His hands shook where they were clenched around the steering wheel and he was sweating a little bit, but he had no idea what he was going to say to you. He just knew he needed to say something. 

Five minutes and countless unhelpful self pep talks later, Rooster was finally ringing the doorbell, necklace in his pocket but still no clearer on what his end goal was. His mind went even more blank when you opened the door, because shit, you were breathtaking. 

You had on a pretty dress in his favorite color and you were adjusting the strap of your heel when you laid eyes on him standing on your doorstep. Putting aside the confusion on your face at the sight of him and not Phoenix, Rooster would rank this as one of his favorite moments ever. 

“Bradley?” You sounded concerned, nose crinkled to match. “What are you doing here?” 

“Uh…” He trailed off, probably sounding completely stupid as he blinked at you dumbfoundedly. You said his name again, a little louder this time, and he snapped out of it. 

He dug around in his pocket clumsily until his fingers closed around the delicate chain and pulled it out, letting it dangle from his hand as he held it out. “Nat asked me to swing this by on my way home from base.” He didn’t want to tell you it was actually him who insisted on being the one to save the day. That would sound too weird, maybe even borderline creepy. 

Your eyes lit up at the sight of your awaited necklace and you beamed, beckoning him into your front hallway. “You’re the sweetest, Bradley. Thank you so much, you really didn’t have to detour.” 

“S’no problem. What’s a few more minutes on the road to help a friend?” 

“Maybe a few more minutes.” You said sheepishly, looking a tad embarrassed. “D’you—would you mind helping me put it on? I’ve never been good at clasping them on my own.” 

“Oh! Uh, yeah. Sure.” He moved behind you, trying not to inhale too sharply when you moved your hair off your neck. God, all he wanted to do was whirl you around and kiss you. Instead, he decided to make some small talk to get his mind out of where it shouldn’t have been in the first place. “So…you’re going on a date. With who? Maybe I know ‘em.” 

“Probably not. He’s not Navy, I met him at the gym a few weeks ago. His name’s Vinny. He’s a boxer.” 

Vinny. Sounded like an asshole name. 

“Didn’t know boxers were your type.” He said casually, working deftly to latch the tiny hook. 

“Yeah?” You sounded amused. “And what exactly do you think my type is?” 

Me, he wanted to say. But he held his tongue, instead opting for a noise of nonchalance. 

“That’s a shame. Would’ve thought you of all people would know.” 

“Why?” 

“You’ve always seemed to know me best.” You said simply. Rooster’s fingers fumbled the clasp in surprise. “When I’m down, you always know how to make me smile. When I’m upset, you seem to know exactly what’ll help. You know everything I like, everything I hate. You know me like the back of your hand. How is that?” 

“I…pay attention.” 

“So that means you know Hangman’s favorite song? Fanboy’s comfort movie? What about Phoenix and Bob’s secret handshake?” You weren’t facing him, so he had no idea if you were being serious or not, but he was stumped. 

His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, brain scrambling for any shred of an excuse for not knowing any of those answers. He paid attention, yes, but only to you. Rooster’s fingers brushed along your bare shoulder softly in lieu of a response, too tender of a moment for two friends to be sharing. 

“Don’t go.” He breathed. You froze, and Rooster swore it was the longest few seconds in his life. But then you turned around, wide eyes searching for his. Your lips parted like you were about to say something, but he shook his head, inhaling a shaky breath. “Don’t go on that date.” 

“Why?” Your voice was impossibly quiet, so much so that he wouldn’t have heard you say anything at all had you not been this close to each other. 

“Because when Phoenix mentioned it, I felt like I’d just done an inverted dive. And not in a good way, I’m talking about the ‘I’m about to puke’ feeling. Because I can’t stop thinking about you even though I should be thinking about anything else, because I don’t know what I’d do if we weren’t friends. Because I don’t wanna be just friends anymore.” Rooster admitted, trying to keep his voice as steady as possible. He was too far in now to quit and run away with his tail between his legs. This was happening, whether it was a good idea or not. “Because…I’m in love with you.” 

You just blinked at him slowly, processing his words the best you could. He could practically see the wheels turning in your head, and it did nothing to quell the ball of nerves turning over in the pit of his stomach. 

Forget what he was feeling earlier—this was definitely the longest few seconds of his life. It felt more like an eternity. 

He was about to apologize, to say sorry for dumping out his feelings for you right before you were about to go on a date with someone else, but you beat him to the punch with something much, much better. 

You grabbed him by the collar of his jacket and you kissed him. Hard. 

More surprised than anything, it took him a beat to register what was actually happening, but his hands slid around your waist to splay across your back when it finally sunk in. He backed you against the nearest wall, but took special care in slipping a hand behind your head so it didn’t bounce off it, all while never letting his mouth leave yours. Your hands found their way to his broad shoulders, roaming around the expanse of flexed muscle shifting under your palms. 

It wasn’t the perfect kiss. It was clumsy and messy and a little overexcited, but it was perfect to Rooster. He could only hope you were thinking the same. 

He finally (albeit reluctantly) pulled away a bit, just enough to give you some air. “What do you think? Are you—does this mean what I think it means?” 

You smiled, linking your hands behind his neck. “I think…I’ve come down with a nasty case of food poisoning and I need to cancel my date.” You said softly.

Rooster nodded solemnly. “And I think I should stay. Y’know, in case you need anything during this awful bout of said food poisoning.” 

“That’s a good idea.”

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[helloheyhihowdyheya]

Oh my god, I can’t believe it’s taken me this long to read this, but it’s so so so good. Gonna make me fall in love with Rooster all over again

Everything you write is literally a masterpiece

baby, i'm yours

in which you and bradley are in the same major and you're completely unaware of how much he adores you.

pairing is frat!bradley bradshaw x fem!reader

word count is 5.5k

author says stem major rooster supremacy <3

you should watch out for drinking, college au, language, party settings, mention of puking

title song is baby i'm yours // arctic monkey

bradley has never been the type to pine.

he had never been one for coveting from a distance, and why would he? bradley had grown up fighting for what he wanted. he had grown with an admirable, if not appalling, amount of confidence. bradley bradshaw had walked with a swagger that simply couldn’t be learned, and for the most part, it had gotten him what he wanted. sure, every once in a while he had to fight a little harder to get the girl, but he always got them in the end. until you.

you aren’t his type, that’s for sure, but something about you is impossible to shake. he’s spent at least three semesters staring at you from opposite ends of lecture halls, and maybe he likes you because you’re not his type. you seem conscientious, dedicated, and entirely uninterested.

it hurts the ego, sure, but bradley isn’t one to give up so easily. after all, you’ve only spoken once and he really hadn’t put his best foot forward. he should have known better, really, because you might be the only one in a nine am lecture who seems genuinely eager to understand enzyme kinetics. the idea of a frat party wouldn’t have interested you, and the offhanded invitation in the campus bookstore was met with a predictably tight smile and a, “yeah, maybe. thanks for the invite.” it’s the most polite blow-off he’s ever received.

that was august. now, spinning into the end of october, he’s been so embarrassed by his complete failure to accurately gauge your interests that he hasn’t even bothered to try again. he’s losing his nerve; more importantly, jake is convinced that bradley’s losing his masculinity. not that bradley has ever given a second thought to what jake thinks; he’s pretty sure that he could count all of jake’s iq points on his fingers, so he rarely gives weight to his opinion. 

and yet, he can’t let it go. he can’t stop watching you from across the room, wondering what you would do if he sat next to you. wondering if you ever watched him, too. wondering if you realized how, with one measly conversation under your belt, you’ve entirely captivated bradley bradshaw.

the virtue of having such a large student group in your major is that group projects aren’t a concern. it was one of the things you had so looked forward to when you were working through your generals, the idea of doing your own work on your own time, without the opinions of anyone else. and it’s a little isolating, somehow, that you can sit in two lectures a day, five days a week, with a hundred people each, and not say a word to anyone but callie. 

next to you, she pays little attention to the lecture, doodling in her notebook and scrolling through her phone. where you had been tirelessly devoted to your academics, callie had found a way to succeed without even trying. you take notes out of necessity, but it seemed like she picked up the information just as well by only half-listening to the lecture. as you scribble notes down in your notebook, your best friend nudges your elbow and tilts her phone toward you to show you a text. 

nat: halloween party @ pike on friday

nat: bob said the door’s open to everyone

you frown, spinning your pencil between your fingers and shaking your head. callie groans quietly, leaning in to whisper. “come on, it won’t be that bad.”

and no, it probably wouldn’t be. you had never been to the parties they were always pushing, but they couldn’t be terrible if nat and callie were there; further, anywhere nat was, so was bob, who you entirely adored. it wasn’t that you had no interest in the parties; you, more than any of your friends, needed to let loose. but even after three years, you couldn’t stand the idea of having to market yourself to your peers; why would you meet new people when you had already found your family?

“pike is full of dorks and nerds,” callie continues. “it probably won’t even be that busy.”

you shrug, and callie grins. the text that she sends into the group chat rings in on your laptop.

cal: we’re there!

your heart leaps into your throat when nat pushes you forward gently. both callie and natasha had assured you that the party likely wouldn’t have been too crowded. bob is just as surprised as you, whispering to nat, “have you ever seen it this packed?”

the four of you can barely move through the living room and you look over bob’s shoulder, ignoring the unhappy way your stomach churns. from the way callie had talked about it, you hadn’t thought it would be like this. heat hits you like a wall every time you walk into a new room and you’re already overwhelmed, between the endless stream of conversations and the pounding music pumping through the walls. 

bob spots reuben in the kitchen, and, already drunk, he greets all of you eagerly. it’s overfamiliar but not entirely unwelcome. you’ll take any little bit of comfort you can get right now, and though you’ve only met reuben a few times, the hug he pulls you into is enough to calm you, even if just barely. 

“where is everyone?” bob asks over the music, clapping his friend on the back, and reuben blinks hard. 

“i think seresin and mickey are in the basement.”

a cheer rises through the crowd as someone pushes through the doorway into the kitchen and reuben’s attention is entirely lost. he’s vaguely familiar, somehow, with the kind of honey brunet hair that makes you wonder if it’s entirely natural and a smile that’s contagious. he drops two cases of beer, stacked on top of one another, onto the already crowded island, and callie leans into you and nat. 

“who is that?”

bob laughs and nat raises a brow. you’re glad that she asked because you know him, you think. a little more selfishly, something about him naturally draws you in; he has the same undeniable charisma that you think all frat boys must possess to a certain extent. it rarely works on you, and maybe it wouldn’t work if he turned it on you, but watching him greet everyone around him, passing out beers with compliments and laughter makes you a little giddy the same way all blooming attractions do, with a turn of the stomach at the end of the realization.

“that’s brad,” bob answers. you snort, because of course, his name was brad. “bradshaw!” 

brad spins his head in your direction with a wide grin, a smile that only grows when he catches sight of bob, brows raising at the sight of him surrounded by the three of you. “hey, bobby!”

bob’s cheeks flush and for a moment, you watch him for any sign of discomfort, but he only laughs and pushes all of you toward the island. 

“y’all want a drink?” brad asks, eyes lingering on yours, and without a second thought, you nod along with your friends. 

you listen as well as you can to the conversation between the two men as brad hands bob a beer and asks callie whether she’d prefer a beer or a seltzer. she preens, asking for a beer, and he hands her one back with a polite smile. you watch him ask nat the same question, wracking your brain to figure out where you had seen him. maybe you had served him at work. it wasn’t out of the question that you might have been in a gen ed class together in your first year, but you don’t think it’s either of those. when he trains his eyes on you, you're more confused than ever because you’re sure you would have remembered someone like this.

“and for you?” he asks, voice soft despite the oppressive noise around you.

“seltzer, please,” you respond quickly. he grins at you and you hate the nervous flip of your stomach, thrilled and terrified to have his attention, to be on the receiving end of that smile. 

news of the fresh cases has spread around the house and guests are crushing into the kitchen to get their hands on a new drink before they’re gone. at first, you hadn’t minded the crowd as much as you thought you would, but now you’re overwhelmed, so you pat callie’s hand and lean in close. “i think m’gonna step outside, okay?”

she pulls back, brow creased in worry, and says, “are you okay? do you want me to come?”

and you know she will, which you appreciate, but you also know that she just caught sight of the blond that has sauntered into the kitchen—exactly her type—and you don’t want her to miss her shot. “i’m okay! i’ll be right back.”

as you force your way through the crowd, cold can in hand, you wonder why you showed up in the first place. it’s not your scene, not even a little, and you had spent the last three years avoiding places exactly like this. foolishly, you hope that maybe the crowd will thin out the later it gets, but you know that’s not really how these kinds of things work. 

the door from the kitchen to the backyard opens inward, which is a struggle when the couple behind the door only glares at you for attempting to open it. frustrated, you open your mouth to ask them to move, but a large hand from behind you reaches for the doorknob, and the man’s face softens at the sight of whoever’s behind you. 

you glance over your shoulder and there’s brad, his chest brushing against your shoulder. he smiles genially at the couple, nodding at them. “hey, man, how are you?”

you don’t listen to the response because brad twists the doorknob for you, opening the door just enough for you to slip out. you aren’t sure he does it for you, exactly, but you’re grateful either way. the october night, especially compared to the sweaty, booming house, is a welcome and refreshing change, one that nearly forces you to take a deep breath. it’s considerably less crowded outside, and you lean against the vibrating siding of the house, glancing sideways when brad slips out of the door and closes it behind him.

for a moment, he looks across the backyard like he’s looking for something, but you interrupt him when you breathe out sharply, tugging your jacket closer. finally, he turns to look at you, and his face melts into the easiest smile you’ve ever seen. you’re not conscious of the way you smile back, pleased to see him pleased, and he leans against the wall beside you.

“hi.”

you look at him, half appalled and half intrigued, because brad is handsome. even if he wasn’t, he has the kind of inherent charm that makes up for physical deficiency, and you would think that someone so handsome might have a better way to flirt than saying ‘hi.’

it occurs to you suddenly that he’s flirting. he’s flirting with you. you feel a sudden warmth creeping from the pit of your stomach, rising to your skin and making you feel a little flushed. “hi.”

he holds out a hand in a formal handshake and you can’t help yourself. you chuckle a little, allowing him to take your hand. “i’m brad.”

you purse your lips and shake his hand. “...brad.”

he tilts his head knowingly, eyes mirthful. “yes?”

with a grin at him, you pull your hand back, rocking on your heels. “that’s just such a frat boy name.”

and he laughs, so loud and warm that suddenly it feels like august, pressing his hand to his abdomen. you watch him appreciatively, endeared to the way his cheeks flush, the way his shoulders shake. his eyes are still crinkled with delight when his laughter slows and he says, “then you can call me bradley.”

your grin shines stronger. “i like bradley.” you offer your name, and he sticks a hand into his pocket. he’s cute, undeniably, and every once in a while, someone will pass by and clap him on the shoulder, greeting him with a ‘hey, man!’ or an excited call of his name. for some reason, seeing how liked he is makes you like him even more. he greets everyone back—remembers their names and everything—and the smile on his face is so genuine that it takes you aback.

bradley is easier to talk to than you had expected, not that you had expected much. he briefly talks about his mother when you ask, answers a couple of questions about what he does outside of academics, but he seems more invested in asking you any questions than offering information. you’re right in the middle of a tangent about one of your classes when you ask, “what’s your major, again?”

he thumbs the tab of his can. “biochem,” he nods, and you grin.

“me, too!” you respond eagerly, and he laughs, seeming a little bashful.

“yeah, i know,” he responds easily. “we’re in a lot of classes together, i think.” he doesn’t think, he knows, but the last thing bradley wants to do now that you’re warming up to him is come off as some weirdo who spends all his time watching you instead of his lectures. your face brightens with recognition, and he smiles softly. “i also tried—and failed—to flirt with you in the bookstore at the beginning of the semester, but…” he trails off, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably. that was supposed to be the silent part, but part of him hopes that you might remember him, no matter how poorly he had done then. he thinks he’s doing pretty well now.

you blanch, covering your mouth with your hand, and bradley could kick himself. “oh, my god. bradley, i’m so sorry! i can’t believe i forgot about that,” you lament, and he laughs with a tinge of self-deprecation.

“i really think it’s better that you did,” he soothes, and then you giggle and all is restored. he’s back in good standing, his washout from the bookstore entirely balanced. he’s all too aware of the tiny step you take in his direction, one that he’s not sure you’ve even noticed yourself. it comforts him, lets him know that right now, you’re closer to the same page than you’ve ever been, and that alone makes his heart begin to pound.

“well, i still feel bad,” you admit, and he shrugs. 

“rejection is healthy for the ego,” he excuses.

it seems like it’s something he actually believes, which makes your chest sticky with unbridled affection. “you don’t seem like the kind of guy who experiences a lot of rejection.”

he flushes and you know you’re right, but it doesn’t annoy you. he’s nothing you would have assumed him to be; he isn’t arrogant or lewd, doesn’t push you to drink and hasn’t asked you to his room. the surprise is almost sweeter than the realization that bradley is the kind of guy you could like, silly name aside.

bradley can’t believe his luck; he hadn’t gotten you here, but someone had, and he’s thrilled. he’s grateful. he reaches for you, fingers hesitating, but he folds down the collar of your jean jacket, and he can’t contain himself when you smile at him. you’re vulnerable, open with him, and bradley can read the signs. he’s giddy, because you’re finally looking at him, laughing with him, and bradley thinks that this—you are better than any way he had ever imagined you. 

“bradley bradshaw,” you murmur, rolling your eyes playfully. “you aren’t entirely insufferable.”

he guffaws, fingers tightening around his empty beer can. he’s been out of his drink for nearly half an hour, but he can’t pull himself from you. “wow, i’m honored.”

you play it up, turning away from him to look out across the backyard. the two of you are so close that your shoulder brushes his chest, and warmth races through his body at the contact. a large hand settles in the dip of the small of your back, and you pretend that it doesn’t make you want to shiver. “you should be. i’m very hard to please.”

and bradley’s stomach flips, fingers tightening around his empty can once again. “i’m sure i could figure it out.”

a surprised laugh forces its way out of you and he snorts. “dude.”

he grins, tapping his empty can against yours. this is going well, better than he thought it would. “you want another drink?”

you look at him, a pleased smile pushing at your cheeks. “yes, please.”

he’ll give you a moment alone, in part because he really does need another drink, but mostly because if there ever were a time to work up the courage to ask you out, it would be right now. he grabs your can, flashing you a sweet smile before he slips inside. 

the second his back is turned, you can’t tamp down your smile, your ears burning. at this point, you don’t even care if he’s stringing you along. you like him. he makes you laugh, and he had been willing to admit that he had his foot in his mouth when he had approached you at the beginning of the semester. then, you had assumed the same of him that you had when you’d met again: that he was cocky, that he was a stereotypical frat boy. but now, he’s laughing at himself the same way you are, humbled and sweet.

the kitchen door opens, and you turn to greet him, but it’s nat. you smile warmly, leaning against the wall. “hey.”

“hey,” she breathes. “you’ve been out here the whole time?”

you shrug, sticking your hands in the pockets of your jacket. “yeah. you guys having fun?”

nat rolls her eyes with a huff. “yeah, about that. we gotta get callie home.”

worry washes over you, forcing out the lovesick warmth that had overtaken you and leaving you with a bitter chill. “what happened?”

she shakes her head, the toe of her boot rubbing out a cigarette butt someone has thrown on the back porch. “she got into a pissing contest with that guy she was flirting with,” nat grunts. “you know how she is. anyway, she’s in the backseat.”

and you shouldn’t be surprised, because yeah, you know callie. she can’t let a challenge go, and you’re amazed it hasn’t given her alcohol poisoning yet. taking care of her while drunk is like second nature after so many years of friendship, and you had figured that the night would end like this, anyway. but you hadn’t anticipated bradley. you want to take care of your best friend, but you don’t want to leave behind the lovely flush that bradley has given you.

nat notices your pause and frowns. “you okay?” you step to the side and peek into the window. bradley stands, pretty and flushed in the kitchen, his beer in one hand and a different flavor of your seltzer in another. god, you don’t want to leave him behind. you want to stay, soaking up his warmth, his attention, and you want to kiss him, and maybe you want to spend the night with him. you watch him laugh in the kitchen, goading one of the other party guests, his charisma radiating even through the window. everyone around him laughs, smiles up at him, falls into his encouragement to keep drinking, keep having fun, and you recognize the look on their faces. it’s the look that you’ve been wearing for the last hour talking to him.

you sigh and turn back to nat. “yeah, m’good. let’s get her home.”

your friend hesitates, but you smile and nod. bradley charms everyone around him; you’re sure that you’re no different. he has everyone falling at his feet. he makes people feel special; it’s the kind of guy he is, and you like that about him, but that’s all it is. 

you let nat drag you through the side yard and around the front to bob’s car, and you try not to let yourself think about bradley on the ride home.

bradley, still laughing at javy’s insistence on body shots, slips out the backdoor, can in each hand. the crowd pushes the door closed behind him, and his belly is still flipping when he turns to where you should be. where you were. he frowns, confused, and he hates the way his stomach swoops when he looks across the yard and can’t see you. tucking his beer in the crook of his elbow, he shoves his way back into the kitchen.

“reub!” he calls over the noise, and his friend beams at him. “where’s bob?”

reuben, drunk and thrilled, responds, “man, he just left!”

a sinking realization makes bradley wilt, his shoulders dropping, and bradley knows that you’re gone, too.

callie glares unhappily at the glass bob has set before her. “i’m literally going to puke.”

he gives her a look, unimpressed with her dramatics. “it goes down smoother than you’d think.”

“does it come up smooth, too?”

you don’t blame her, really. you had never tasted bob’s hangover cure, but it looks exactly like what you cleaned out of his backseat last night. no, you wouldn’t want any part of it, either, but he swore by it. nat drops a straw in the thick mixture, and callie groans but begins drinking it obediently.

“so,” nat starts, sitting across from you at the table. “how was your night?”

you feel your cheeks warm but you shrug casually, resting your chin on your water bottle. “fine. how was yours?”

“you disappeared,” she responds, ignoring your question, and you roll your eyes goodnaturedly.

“i did not ‘disappear.’ i was exactly where i said i was all night.”

nat narrows her eyes at you, and when you look at bob, you see his lips quirked in the tiniest smile. “brad followed you out,” he notes, and you stare back at him, trying to keep your face blank.

you don’t want to feel giddy about bradley, not when you know he was just being nice. the last thing you want to do is give bob any indication that bradley has gotten under your skin; you know bob. you love bob, but he’s observant, and though he would never tell a secret on purpose, you know better than anyone that sometimes the truth just slips out of him. “he did.”

callie perks up a little, straw still in her mouth when she asks, “you and brad?”

“no,” you insist. “we just talked for a few minutes.”

nat smirks, leaning onto her elbows. “did you like him?”

“he was nice.”

“that’s not what i asked,” she pushes, and you huff.

you want to hold it close to your chest. it’s embarrassing to admit that you had allowed bradley to make you feel so special, that he had wooed you without even trying. but the idea of lying to your best friends makes you sweat a little. natasha would find out anyway, and then you’d be in for it. “i mean…yeah, i guess.”

“that’s a yes,” bob celebrates, and you frown. 

your best friends share a pleased look and you harrumph. “what does it matter, anyway? he’s just some…random frat guy. probably would end up being an asshole, anyway.”

bob shakes his head, filling one of your mugs with coffee for himself. “nah, brad’s cool. he’s nice.”

you level a glare at bob. “regardless. the last thing i need right now is to develop feelings for some guy that everyone else is already in love with.” and bob doesn’t argue, doesn’t deny the fact that bradley has everyone falling at his feet. you shrug, taking a sip of your water. “he’s cool, i guess. but i don’t have time for that.”

callie wrinkles her nose in your direction, clearly a little annoyed. “but you like him.”

you purse your lips. “so?”

she sighs, holding her cup of sludge with both hands as she leans back into her seat. “tell him.” it’s such a callie thing to say. she had never second-guessed herself. she had never needed to. but you weren’t callie. you weren’t perfect, reliable callie. such confidence had never come to you the way it has to her. if you were callie, the kind of person that people were drawn to—the same way they were drawn to bradley—you might tell him. but you weren’t. you were just you.

you lean back into your chair, avoiding your friends’ eyes, and for a minute, you pretend that you are like callie, and it’s a comforting thought.

similarly, bradley and mickey look at each other across the kitchen island. “so…you didn’t kiss her.”

“no,” bradley says, tired.

“and you didn’t ask her out?”

“no.”

mickey looks at him, head tilted curiously. “but why?”

“because she left, you idiot,” javy rolls his eyes. “you aren’t even listening.”

“i am!” he insists, glaring at javy. “i just don’t understand. brad, you’re the clincher.” 

bradley has been running over the events of the night before until he can’t hold it in anymore. he had hoped his roommates would be helpful, but javy is disinterested, mickey is entirely unhelpful, and jake had shuffled away five minutes into the conversation to fall asleep on the couch. “i don’t know, man, i thought it was going great. she seemed like she was interested, you know? 

mickey shrugs. “whatever, dude. you said you have some classes together? just catch her on campus and ask her out.”

“mickey, did it ever occur to you that she left because she didn’t like me?” bradley stresses, and his roommate rolls his eyes. 

“bradley, have you ever considered that you only like this girl because she's the first one who doesn’t like you?”

bradley sits with this for a moment. he had an ego, that was for sure, and he had chased a lot of girls who didn’t want him just to change their minds. the thrill was always in the chase. at least, it had been, because the longer bradley thinks about it, the more he thinks that he had found just as much thrill watching you across lecture halls as he ever had chasing other girls. he had been just as eager to get you a drink and make you laugh as he had to take other girls to bed. everything is heightened with you. no, the thrill wasn’t in chasing you. this had gone on so much longer than that. long before he ever found out that you had no interest in him.

“no,” bradley decides. “no, man, it’s not like that. i really like her.”

mickey shrugs like it’s the easiest thing in the world. “okay, then tell her. what’s the worst that can happen?”

you avoid looking at bradley throughout class. right as it had begun, you had made the mistake of searching for him, and the second that you laid eyes on him, it felt like a burn. over the weekend, you had come to terms with the fact that yeah, you did like bradley. that didn’t mean you had to like it. you would put your head down, get through the semester, and pray that you didn’t have any classes together next semester. and that’s fine. it’s fine. 

your notes, like your thoughts, are scrambled. they barely make sense to you, and when callie glances in your direction, her face twists at the sight of your notebook. “dude, what the fuck?”

“stop,” you insist, trying to hide the way your shoulders shake in a laugh. “it’s functional.”

“bro, it’s incomprehensible.”

“fuck off,” you laugh, elbowing her. 

she giggles, pressing a hand to her chest. you’re grateful when your professor releases class early, because callie’s jeering is getting a little too close to heckling for your taste. she can’t control her volume, this you know, and usually it’s fine, but more than usual, you’re trying to fly under the radar today.

you both shrug on your coats, pack your bags, and slip from the lecture hall. you think you’re in the clear, that you’ve successfully avoided bradley, who exited on the opposite side of the lecture hall, not that you were looking. but you hear your name from only a few feet behind just as you and callie reach the external doors. it’s far enough away, crowded enough in the rush of your classmates that you might be able to pretend you didn’t hear it, but he calls you again and you know that the guilt will haunt you if you don’t at least say hi.

your best friend grins when you turn and offer bradley a tight smile. “hey, bradley.”

“hey,” he breathes, and you hate him because he’s so much cuter in daylight than he ever was under the porch light of the frat house. it makes you sick. “i’m glad i caught up to you. can we talk?”

your inner monologue screeches to a halt and starts shrieking, but you nod and turn to callie. “i’ll catch up?”

she smirks at the two of you. “i won’t hold my breath.”

“callie,” you hiss, but bradley laughs and you feel—despite your embarrassment—that her comment is hopeful, not teasing. 

she waves goodbye and heads on her way. you and bradley, standing against the late autumn chill, stand in silence for only a beat before he says, “i lost you at the party.”

your lips twist in a way that’s unbearably endearing to him and you hook your thumb over your shoulder. “callie got sick, we had to take her home.”

bradley grins, looking after her. “oh, that callie.” you look at him, half-suspicious, but you have an almost knowing smile growing on your face. “my roommate hasn’t stopped talking about her since friday.”

“jake?” you hazard a guess, and bradley nods. a contemplative sigh fills the space between you before you say, “yeah, trust me. we’ve heard a lot about him, too.”

you expect some banter, at least, about his roommate. from what callie has told you, you’re certain that bradley has some stories to share about him, or at least a funny quip, but he’s got a one track mind. “um…right. well, i would have liked to…say bye.”

for a long moment, the two of you look at one another in silence. you get the sense that bradley doesn’t spend a great deal of time being vulnerable like this, even if he’s just giving you the barest hint of what happens underneath, and you have to wonder: why is he sharing this with you? what is he doing? 

“no, yeah. you just looked like you were having fun inside, i didn’t think you’d really notice.” and god, you hate how pathetic that sounds, and you hate the way his shoulders deflate, and you hate the way you’re butchering this right now. “i just didn’t want to bother you, was all.” 

“you wouldn’t have bothered me,” he responds immediately. 

he’s so cute that looking at him hurts, and you feel that pressure build up in your chest, packed so tightly that you have to say something. “bradley—”

“i’m sorry,” he says, voice sweet and a little scratchy. he holds eye contact so firmly that it almost makes you shiver, both of you ignoring the other students around you. “i’m sorry if i was too pushy, or if i made you uncomfortable.”

“you didn’t,” you assure. “you weren’t. not at all.” he nods once.

bradley feels like the earth could swallow him right now and it could only help the situation. he’s embarrassed, but he tries not to show it. after mickey’s rare moment of mental clarity, bradley knows that now is the moment. he’d missed his chance before. fumbled his opportunity already. he didn’t want to do that again. “listen…i’ve been watching you across classrooms for like, four semesters. i think you’re really pretty,” he admits, voice steady despite the increasing flush on his cheeks. “and you’re funny and interesting and smart and i want to get to know you, because i really like you.” you blanch, mouth parted in the cutest little o he’s ever seen. “if you aren’t interested, i get it. we can just be friends.”

you pause, taking a moment to process his words when he cuts in again.

“or if you don’t want to be friends, you can totally tell me to fuck off and i will literally never bother you again,” he rambles, nodding decisively.

and it happens at the worst time, really. this is not the time to start giggling, but you can’t help yourself. you’re a little giddy and a little entertained, but mostly you’re caught up in him. caught up in the way this boy you haven’t stopped thinking about for the last three days has, apparently, spent the last two years admiring you. this sweet boy, who makes you laugh and makes you think, who makes you feel special and interesting and wanted. 

“bradley, you don’t get rejected a lot, do you?”

bradley’s lips pucker, trying to hide his nerves from you. whatever you had to say, he wanted to hear it. no matter what. “no, i don't.”

you take a step toward him, grateful for the heat that rolls off his body, and you smile at him softly. “well, best not to break your record, then.”

bradley bradshaw isn’t the type to pine. until he is. 

and it’s worth every second.

[senawashere]

Carolina?

Summary: Who is Carolina? Is she the other woman? And why Bradley is talking about her in his sleep?

A/n: I wrote this like 2 or 3 years ago for another character and i wanted to post again🤭

Warnings: tooth rutting fluff actually. Maybe a bit angst. And a bit smutt at the end. Hehehehe.

Bradley always talked in his sleep,most of life. So you were ok with it. But one night,everything chances.

You slowly wake up to a chill in the air, realizing that Bradley has closed most of the windows once again, as usual.

The room is dark, and the digital clock on your nightstand shows 4:28; you've only been asleep for four hours.

As you turn to the side, you see Bradley curled up in the blankets, lying on his side with his back turned to you. You approach him, pulling the blanket closer for warmth, and snuggle up to your husband, wrapping your arm around his abdomen. You drift back to sleep with you melting in his embrace, emitting a low, soft purr from his curled lips.

He feels so warm and resilient against you that you bury your face into his back, inhaling his scent, placing a few kisses on his shoulder blades before laying your head on the pillow. You hear Bradley's gentle murmurs as he returns to his dreams. When you open your eyes, you lift your head slightly, leaning towards him in hopes of understanding what he's saying, but his words are jumbled.

"Brad?" you whisper, wondering if he's about to wake up.

"Baby..." he murmurs, and then you hear something inconsistent.

"I'm here," you say softly, kissing his shoulder. He usually calls you "baby," so you assume he's talking to you.

"Baby... My baby..." he repeats, and as you smile at the thought of him dreaming about you, everything shatters with a single word.

"Carolina... Carolina, baby… my…girl"

Wait a second, who is Carolina?

It wakes you up faster than an alarm. As you sit up, looking at your still-sleeping husband, talking about someone named Carolina in his dreams, you're left puzzled. You don't know anyone by that name, so she must be someone Bradley knows, and that's concerning.

"Carolina... beautiful..." the words spill from his lips, almost inaudible but piercing your ears like a punch to the chest.

Lately, he's been so confused, but you haven't thought much about it, attributing it to all the work he put into his job and getting promoted. However, now you see it in a different light.

And yes you know his mother’s name is Carol but the problem is Carol and Carolina are not the same.

Or are they? No probably not.

Could Bradley be spending time with another woman? The thought of him cheating on you didn't cross your mind. Everything seemed so perfect; you were planning the moving somewhere else next summer, and he didn't seem regretful of his decision to marry you.

But then who is Carolina? And if she invaded his dreams, how important could she be? More important than you? It made your stomatch flip.

Afterward, you struggled to sleep, tossing and turning in bed for hours.

Bradley stops talking afterward, turning his face up, and while you lie awake next to him, going through every possible theory in your mind, he simply sleeps peacefully, unaware of your racing thoughts. As the sun begins to rise on the horizon, you're already out of bed, perched on a kitchen stool with your laptop, hoping to find a clue Bradley left behind as you delve into the history.

But what if he's really doing this? If he's cheating on you, he wouldn't be foolish enough to get caught like this. Right?

You make tea and reluctantly check his socials that he follows almost everyone he knows. You hate stalking your husband with the thought of him cheating on you but now you want to know if something strange is happening. Unfortunately, or fortunately, nothing suspicious comes up. Most of the accounts are from people who works with, either with people you know,his old friends, or his family members and some of his dads old friends.

No sign of another woman.

That’s good. Right?

Bradley wakes up to an empty bed. It's strange that you're not cuddling him or holding onto him like a koala bear. He blinks his swollen eyes a few times, adjusting to the low light, and straightens the other side of the bed where your body used to rest. Since the room isn't even that cold, he knows you've been up for a while.

Yawning and rubbing his eyes, he throws on a sweatshirt and slowly exits the room, sliding his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. He notices you immediately, curled up on the edge of the couch, looking out of the window. Your forehead is creased, indicating something is bothering you.

"Hey, honey, the bed was cold without you," he murmurs, walking towards you with slow steps, sitting beside you on the couch near the window.

You look at him, your jaw clenched,on verge of tears and even though you didn't want to start like this, the truth about the morning overwhelms you.

"Who is Carolina?"

Confusion is evident on his face. It's not the kind of thing that someone doesn't know what or who is being talked about. Carolina is a real person, and Bradley knows exactly who she is.

"What's this about now?" he asks, leaning back, putting some distance between you two, his arm dropping over the back of the couch,confusion is clearly visible all over his face.

"Do you know anyone named Carolina?" you push, narrowing your eyes.

"I do... well, I mean... it's not what you think honey really..."

"You talk in your sleep, Bradley."

"What?" his eyes widen.

"You often murmur incoherently, but last night, you kept repeating the name Carolina, and... you even called her baby. You called her baby! You only call me baby. "

The revelation dawns on him as you watch, and he takes a slow breath, exhaling gently. This is going to be more complicated than you anticipated.

"I'm telling you, but promise not to think I've lost my mind, okay?"

"You're scaring me, Bradley," you breathe out. "Tell me. Please."

"Okay, okay," he says, inhaling deeply and then nodding slightly. "Do you remember... the day when we thought you might be pregnant, about like five months ago?"

"Of course, I remember," you nod,biting your lip.

Your period was late, and you had vomited in the morning. Bradley had taken a test, and you both sat on the cold tile floor of the bathroom, waiting for the results. It came back negative.

You felt relieved, but a part of you wondered how it would have been if you were pregnant. Something in your head told you it wouldn't have been a big deal, but the timing wasn't right because you two were just about to get married and it would have been nice to get married first before having a baby.

"A few days after that... I had a dream."

"A dream?" You furrow your brows, unsure where this is going.

"Yeah. It was about you and me, and... we had a baby. A little girl. It wasn't something crazy; you were breastfeeding her in our bed, and I was watching you, and then I was holding her, rocking her to sleep and she was sleeping in my arms... It felt real, and when I woke up... I felt like something was missing."

You listen to him carefully, your lower lip tense, and your heart pounding in your chest.

"Since then, I've been having similar dreams. At least twice a week. Always the same baby, always with you inside, but we do different things. Sometimes we bathe her,sometimes we play tickling,sometimes we walk in the park, and sometimes she sleeps in a stroller... Once my mom and dad were in it and one time I saw Mav and Penny too, God, it felt so real," he confesses with a shaky breath. "The last few times, we didn't even have her with us. We gave her a name."

"Carolina? Her name is Carolina?" you softly ask, pushing yourself closer to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

"Yes. She looks a lot like you, but her eyes are like mine. A perfect mix of both of us, and... I couldn't shake it off. Sometimes I wake up after a dream, and I feel like something has been taken away from us, it feels so real,I miss her even though I don't know her."

"Why didn't you tell me about these dreams, Baby?" you whisper, placing a small kiss on his shoulder.

"It felt super foolish, and I didn't know how it would make you feel. I knew we talked about trying for a baby after the wedding, and I thought bringing it up would upset you," he shrugs, planting a gentle kiss on your forehead.

As you sit on the couch, silence falls between you two, your head resting on his chest, his arms around you. This wasn't the outcome you expected. None of your theories came close to the truth Bradley just revealed.

"I was thinking about the same thing...for a while." you say.

"About what?"

"About having a baby. If the test had come back positive, how would it have been?"

"And...?" He leans back to look into your eyes.

"I wouldn't have aborted it," you admit honestly, and Bradley takes a slow breath, gently kissing your forehead. "Do you want to... start trying for a baby before we talk about,Bradley?"

"It can wait," he replies, looking as if he's afraid to say something that might upset you. "If we continue what we're doing, it's okay..."

"But I want to know what you want, Bradley. Tell me."

He takes a deep breath, running his tongue over his lips before speaking.

"I think I want it." The way your heart explodes at his words is undeniable. Realizing that he feels exactly the same way now brings tears to your eyes.

"It would probably mean a blow to the squad if we start now and succeed," you laugh, watching his eyes glimmer.

"That would be the best thing that ever happened," he chuckles, confessing, "just the thought of going on adventures while our baby grows under your heart... God, I could just cry just thinking about it."

"So," you grin, slyly teasing him as you hold his chin with one hand. "Carolina?"

"It could be something else if it's a boy."

"I like it," you murmur, nodding. "We can add it to the list. But before we start making lists, we should probably start trying for a baby, don't you think?"

He doesn't need more encouragement. As you both laugh and kiss, you find yourselves in your bedroom in an instant, clothes flying off as you fall onto the bed. Giving him a passionate kiss before he undresses you, you can't help but whisper, "I love you."

Ekkkk full of cuteness🥹🥹

I'm tagging people who might be interested:@ohtobeleah @sebsxphia @callsigns-haze @sailor-aviator @sorchathered @greenorangevioletgrass @teacupsandtopgun @roosterforme @floydsglasses @lyn-js @bradshawssugarbaby @torchflies @its-dee-lovely @its-the-pilot @friedchips94 @bradshawsbaby @hardballoonlove @perfectprettypisces @topguncortez @hangmanapologist @bradshawsbaddie @shanimallina87 @djs8891 @themusingofagothicsoul @the-romanian-is-bae @mamachasesmayhem @jessicab1991 @iefitzgerald-blog @charcole-grey @waterriseslew @desert-fern @promisingyounglady

[appocalipse]

no pilots allowed • bradley bradshaw

Rooster and his teammates are frequent patrons at your aunt's bar, the Hard Deck, while they're training for a dangerous mission. When he asks you out on a date, the two of you jokingly agree to keep it friendly, never cross certain lines…but Rooster has other ideas.

"Do you ever sleep?"

You don't look up from the glass you're polishing, but your mouth twitches into a faint smile...the same way it always does when he shows up at the Hard Deck this early.

"We're not open for, like, another few hours," you tell Rooster, as if he doesn't know that already. You can hear him approaching the bar from behind, his footsteps heavy on the hardwood floor, making his way through the quiet, mostly-empty room.

You're not supposed to let people in before hours, technically. Especially not good-looking naval aviators who will inevitably distract you a little more than you'd like to admit, but...

"Then what are you doing here?" he asks.

You look up at him. He's taken off his aviators, his dark eyes watching you rather intently. His posture is casual, his tall frame leaning against the counter.

You set down the glass you've been polishing and reach for another one, returning your attention to your task. "Someone has to make sure everything's ready before we open."

He gives you a slow, easy smile. "Mind if I help?"

"Help?"

"Yeah." He looks around the bar as if trying to figure out where to start. "What do you need me to do?"

"Aren't you tired from training?"

"I'm fine," he says, not convincing you in the slightest. "Seriously. What do you need?"

You set down the glass. A small part of you can't resist the chance to keep him around longer.

"I'll feel bad if I make you work," it sounds like you're reasoning with yourself.

Rooster grins. "Then don't make me work. It's my idea."

"My aunt will kill me if she catches you in here, especially if you're working."

"She won't know."

Well...there are some heavy crates that need to be brought in from the storage room, bottles of alcohol that need to be placed on the shelves, tables that need to be wiped down...

The heavy ones. Oh, the heavy ones are tempting.

"You're a menace," you tell him, though it comes out sounding more like a compliment than an insult. It's hard to offend him anyway, you've found; he seems to take everything you say in stride, regardless of whether you mean it or not.

He smiles at you, unfazed. "Is that a yes?"

"What are you doing here so early anyway? You and your team don't usually show up until well after dark."

"Do I need a reason?"

"It's early. You can't be that bored already."

"Maybe I just wanted to see you."

Boy, is he good.

Not falling for it is a challenge every time. You wonder if Rooster knows that, if he gets a kick out of it the way Hangman does when he flirts with every pretty girl who crosses his path. The difference is, Hangman's flirting is playful, an intentional provocation that you can take as a compliment or blow off with a laugh.

Rooster's flirting is different. It's always delivered in that same deep, mellow voice of his, a warm baritone that reminds you of dark whiskey on a cold night, and he has a way of saying things that makes you think he might actually mean them.

"...you don't have to sweet-talk me," you tell him. "I already let you in."

He grins at you. "Who says I'm sweet-talking?"

You turn back to your task of polishing glasses so he won't see the smile you can't contain. That's it, you think. New rule: no more letting him in early. He's too distracting.

"Am I being kicked out?" Rooster asks, amused.

"Yes."

"Really?"

You try not to laugh. "No. But you really don't have to help."

He straightens up from the bar and stretches his arms, yawning. "Where's Penny? Did she leave you here to do all this by yourself?"

"Visiting her mother with Amelia. She'll be back later. I offered to cover while she's gone," maybe out of boredom or some desperation for human contact, but it sounded like a good idea at the time, you just didn't realize it would involve so much work. "The other waitresses will be here, um, soon, I guess, once it gets closer to opening time."

You don't want to admit you're a little intimidated by the responsibility. You've only been working at the Hard Deck for a few months now, having moved here from halfway across the country, and most of that time has been spent behind the bar or taking orders on your notepad, doing the tasks Penny asked you to do, and nothing more. Now that she's away for a few days, you're starting to feel a little overwhelmed with the amount of work that needs to be done.

"You look tired," Rooster observes.

"Thanks."

"I mean it in a good way."

"It doesn't sound good."

"You always look nice," he clarifies, to your mild embarrassment and surprise. "I just mean you seem like you could use some help."

You don't meet his gaze because, no, you're not going to be distracted by those brown eyes again, it's bad enough already. "I...okay. The delivery truck is supposed to arrive soon, so...there are a lot of crates that need to be brought inside. And some in the storage room that I need to bring here to the bar. Some of them are really heavy. I'm not even sure how Penny brings them in by herself."

"Let me take care of that for you."

Let me take care of that for you, says he, like it's no big deal.

"There are some boxes of liquor that need to be taken out of the storage room and brought in here, too," you continue, despite your better judgment, still watching him out of the corner of your eye.

He gives you another slow smile. "Okay. Where is this storage room?"

"There's a door behind the bar. To the right. I'll help you carry them."

"You don't have to."

"I'll show you where they are. And it's gonna be easier if there are two of us."

He looks at you with a knowing smile. "Is that why you want to come along? So you can make sure I don't get distracted and break anything?"

"Exactly."

"I think you're just making excuses to spend time with me."

Does he really have to keep looking at you like that?

"Rooster," you say, as firmly as you can manage.

"Yes?" It doesn't seem to bother him that you're trying to scold him. In fact, you think he's enjoying it.

You walk backwards behind the bar to lead him toward the storage room, pausing when you reach the door. You let out a sigh. "You're going to be the death of me, you know that?"

"Really?" He grins at you, putting his hands in his pockets. "I thought I was being very nice."

"Is that what you call it?"

"Yeah."

"Crates," you say, gesturing to the storage room and changing the subject before he can talk his way into any more compliments. "In there, by the wall. The smaller boxes on the shelves are for the bar. We'll bring them in after we move the big crates. The ones with the heavy bottles inside."

Rooster pauses. "'We'?"

"I can't let you carry all of those by yourself. They're heavy."

"That's cute. But I can handle it."

"No. Not by yourself."

He gives you a confident grin. "Watch me."

The moment he disappears into the storage room, you start to regret saying anything at all. You're not entirely sure what possessed you to let him help you with this; he must have gotten to your head. There are plenty of things you could be doing right now while he's out of sight, and yet...you decide to stand there in the doorway, watching him take inventory of the room, squinting in the dim light and trying to decide where to start.

It's not like you can just leave him to it. It would be too embarrassing if he hurt himself and you did nothing. The best way to keep an eye on him is to stay close by.

Right?

Rooster lets out a groan as he heaves one of the large crates up off the floor. "You weren't kidding," he mutters. "These are heavy."

"Let me—"

"I've got it."

He doesn't let you help him. He lifts the crate off the ground with another grunt, and you're distracted for a moment by the sight of his muscular arms flexing under the strain, the tight white t-shirt he's wearing pulled even tighter across his chest, the—

"Y/N?"

"Hm?" You look up quickly. "What?"

He grins at you. "Want to open the door for me?"

Fuck, you think, not for the first time that day, stepping out of the way to let him through.

You grab a smaller crate for yourself. It's not as heavy as the one Rooster is carrying, but you still strain a little under the weight of it, and Rooster still gives you a disapproving look when he notices.

"I told you," he says, slightly out of breath from his own effort, "you don't have to help."

"It's literally my job to help," you mutter. "Actually, it's my job to carry them all myself, so—"

"I got it."

"Yeah, but I can—"

"You can relax," he tells you, letting out a small groan as he heaves the crate up a little higher. "And go back to what you were doing."

It would be easier to protest if he didn't make it look so effortless. He carries the crate out of the storage room and sets it on the floor near the bar with a thud, barely breaking a sweat.

Your fingers dig into the rough edges of your own crate, which seems ten times heavier all of a sudden. You set it down next to his, more carefully than he did, glancing over at him to see if he noticed.

He looks down at the crate you just set on the floor, then over at you with barely concealed amusement. "Not bad," he says. "You could handle that all by yourself?"

"Shut up."

"No, really." He's not trying to hide his smile anymore. "Impressive."

The laugh you let out is entirely involuntary, equal parts embarrassed and amused. "Okay, fine, I get it," you say. "You're strong. You go get the rest of them while I finish wiping down the tables."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Thank you."

"Any time."

It's fine, you tell yourself as he heads back into the storage room. Rooster being in here won't distract you. It's fine. Everything is fine.

The delivery truck arrives shortly after Rooster has brought in the last of the crates to the bar, so you spend the next hour opening the boxes and sorting the bottles, filling the shelves behind the bar with whiskey and rum and vodka, gin and tequila and other liquors...and totally not stealing glances at Rooster as he carries the crates from the truck into the storage room.

You've found a rhythm by the time he returns from the truck for the final time, wiping your hands on your apron as you watch him approach the bar.

"I think that's all of them," he says, letting out a groan as he stretches his arms above his head.

The nerve, you think, resisting the urge to stare. The absolute nerve.

"Thank you."

He lowers his arms. "I never said it was for free."

"What?"

Rooster leans forward and props his elbows on the bar, the same cocky grin from earlier playing at his lips. "There's a price for my help."

"A price?" you ask, still polishing the same glass you've been working on since he arrived. "And what's that?"

"...a drink."

Well, that's easy.

"A drink? You want me to pay you a drink?"

"Ah, no, no," he says with a laugh, waving his hand like the idea is ridiculous. "I want you to let me buy you a drink."

Oh.

"Oh."

"And something to eat, too," he adds, and by the time you recover from the initial shock of what he's suggesting, he's already standing up straight again. "What time do you get off work?"

"No."

"No?" He looks at you in surprise.

"I can't," but you're only barely resisting.

"You can."

"Rooster."

He frowns. "What?"

"I..." Why is this so hard? "I can't go out with you. It's—I can't."

"Why not?"

You feel tempted. Boy, are you tempted. You're smiling even as you shake your head, trying to focus on polishing the glass in your hands. "Because I actually...like you."

Rooster pauses, his smile returning. "You can't go out with me because you like me?"

"This heart," you tap your fingers on your chest, smiling still, "is off limits, okay? No pilots allowed."

The tables are clean and the bar is stocked and organized, but you need to do something else, anything else, if only to avoid Rooster's gaze. You slip the cloth you've been using into your apron pocket and look around for another task. There must be something you missed. Anything.

Tables, yeah. You can wipe down the tables again.

"Okay," he says slowly, clearly not convinced, "so let me get this straight: You like me, therefore you're not allowed to go out with me?"

You nod. "Exactly."

"Are you kidding?"

You take the cloth out of your apron pocket again and glance around the bar, searching for any traces of dust on the tables or chairs that might need to be wiped down.

"Y/N?"

You've already gone over the tables once...

Rooster steps closer. "You know that makes no sense, right?"

You're not distracted by the sight of his hand sliding onto the countertop next to you. You're not distracted by the sudden proximity of him as he leans in closer. It's fine, it's not a problem, you can deal with this.

"So...you're saying you do want to go out with me," he says, sounding far too pleased with himself, "but you won't?"

He's so close. He smells good, like pine and leather. You glance over at him, realizing how little space there is between you now, and quickly look away.

"That's—I don't..."

"Because you like me."

"Shut up."

His gaze drops to your mouth. "Make me."

You swallow. Hard.

It takes a monumental amount of willpower to step away from him, to resist the temptation to touch him or get closer, but you manage. Barely. You make yourself focus on the task you've found for yourself, pretending that Rooster isn't standing behind you watching as you wipe down the tables a second time.

"I think we should go out," he says again, obviously not taking your silence for the no it's supposed to be. "There's a place downtown that I think you'd like."

You chuckle, which probably doesn't help matters, but...it's really hard to say no to him.

"Would I?"

He must have sensed weakness because he follows you around the bar as you continue your pointless cleaning. "Today is one of the last days we have off," he tells you. "Maverick has us in the air all day tomorrow, and most of the day after that. If we don't go out tonight, who knows when we'll have another chance...or how long it'll be before I see you again."

"Rooster..."

"Come on," he says, more gently this time. "One drink. Or maybe dinner. Nothing too fancy. I promise."

You pause and glance over at him. He really doesn't know when to quit. "But it's not a date."

"No. Totally not."

You don't like how much it sounds like he's laughing at you.

"Really?"

"Not even close," he says, like he's serious. "It's a totally not date between two friends."

He follows you, like a puppy, around the bar, until you pause again, thinking it over for what feels like the millionth time in the last few minutes. One drink, he said.

Not a date.

...just two friends hanging out.

No feelings involved.

You sigh, letting the cloth in your hand drop to the table, giving in to the inevitable. "Fine," you say, turning around to face him. "But it's not a date."

"No."

"Or a first date."

"Right."

"And it's just one drink."

"I swear."

"And we can't—we can't..." You can't help but notice the way he's looking at you, his brown eyes full of mischief, a hint of that playful smile on his lips again, and you're suddenly worried he might get the wrong idea about this whole thing. "No...you know."

His eyes linger on your mouth again before meeting your gaze with a sly smile. "No...what?"

"You know."

"I really don't."

"It's not a date."

He chuckles softly at your obvious distress, clearly enjoying this. "Okay, it's not a date."

"Exactly. So don't do anything you'd do if it was a date."

He steps closer, grinning, the space between you evaporating again. "And what is it," he asks in that deep voice of his, a low rumble that resonates somewhere in the pit of your stomach, "that you think I would do on a date?"

The table behind you feels like it's digging into your back.

"No kissing."

"Got it," he says, resting one hand on the table behind you, "no kissing."

"Or any other...date stuff."

"Like what?"

"Like..." You glance at his mouth.

Rooster smiles. "You want to make a list?"

You duck under his arm before he can do something that will get you in trouble. "I'll meet you after work," you tell him over your shoulder as you walk back toward the bar, desperate for some space before you lose your resolve altogether. "Just...stop talking. You're distracting me."

He turns and watches you, amused. "Okay. Pick you up at seven?"

You wonder if it's too late to back out of this, or if he's going to show up here at seven with that stupid smile of his and his ridiculous mustache and ruin everything anyway.

"You don't have to pick me up," you mutter, wiping your hands on your apron one more time, unable to hide your smile. "It's not a date, remember?"

"Whatever you say, sweetheart."

Oh, he's impossible.

"It's not a date!"

[sicko4smut]

Champagne Coast | B. Bradshaw

synopsis: Your not really sure how everything went so wrong, that summer started like any other and yet by the end of it…everything was completely different

warnings: - Age GAP, reader is 19, Rooster is 34, Reader is Reuben’s niece, secretly “hooking up”, controversial topics, complicated relationship, idiots in love, beefy, mustached Roo in a Hawaiian shirt being the center of my wet dream

[1.1] The Beginning - The porch swing and where we fucked up

[1.2] The Middle- It’s Awkward and complicated yet we’re still pining

[1.3] More bad decisions

[1.4] The Climax - holy shit show

[1.5] Resolution - (no chapter name yet)

──── THE END ────

PLAYLIST 📻 - ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ♫♬♪

▶︎ Champagne Coast - Blood Orange

▶︎ Girls Need love - Summer Walker

▶︎ Body - Summer Walker

▶︎ Invite Me - Brent Faiyaz

▶︎ Shame - Summer Walker

▶︎ Deep - Summer Walker

▶︎ Awkward - SZA

▶︎ Pretty Little Birds - SZA

▶︎ Love Scars - Trippie Redd

▶︎ Living Room Flow (Bonus) - Jhené Aiko

ᬊ⃙ 𝓵 ove my 𝒘𝒂𝒚 ﹋ it's a 𝒏𝒆𝒘 𝒓𝒐𝒂𝒅

dividers: @gigittamic , @anitalenia , @cafekitsune ,

Masterlist for another upcoming story that’s in development, that will be posted on my main blog @smutmaniac

[bruisedboys]

bradley bradshaw x fem!reader — you’re worried about what bradley will think of your new haircut.

mutual pining, pre-relationship, fluff (very self indulgent since I got my hair cut this week xoxo)

You were feeling good about your new haircut yesterday, when it was freshly cut and styled and so super soft. Today is different. You know you look different and you can help but think different is bad.

You rake a hand through your short hair. “Does my hair look bad?”

Natasha and Bob both give you twin looks of incredulity. It’s not the first time you’ve asked it tonight. They’ve brought you along to the Hard Deck for a night of drinks with their friends and you can’t stop fussing over your hair. You won’t admit to them it’s because you’re harbouring a massive crush on one of their squad members and you’re worried he’ll think you look awful.

“It looks fine,” Natasha tells you, again, not for the first time. “You look pretty. Right, Bob?”

Bob hums, tapping his fingers on the wooden tabletop. “You look great, Y/N.” He gives you a look from behind his glasses. Confusion, a bit of suspicion. “Why are you worrying so much, anyway?”

Your heart stutters. “I’m not—“

“Phoenix, Bob!” Jake Seresin appears seemingly out of nowhere, sidling up to your table with all the charm of a prince. His eyes land on you and your new hair and he grins. “And Y/N. Looking good, sugar.”

He winks at you. He’s a huge flirt and you’d definitely be into him if it weren’t for another certain aviator.

You smile at him. “Thanks, Jake.”

The others, Payback and Fanboy, file in behind him. They both notice and compliment your hair, which is a good sign. Still, you know who’s coming next and you can’t help but curl in on yourself, taking a sip of your drink so you don’t have to see him as he approaches.

“Hey, guys!” Bradley Bradshaw appears, stupid Hawaiian shirt, sunglasses, moustache, golden skin and all. He’s tucking his glasses into his shirt so he doesn’t see you at first. “Hey— woah, Y/N.”

He stops short when he sees you. You lower your drink slowly, heart in your throat. Your knee bounces underneath the table.

“Hi, Bradley,” you say.

Bradley blinks. Blinks again. “Hi. Hey. I— you cut your hair.”

He says it like he’s never heard of a haircut before. You smile unsurely.

“I did,” you say, pushing a lock behind your ear as if that will help your case. “Is it bad?”

“Bad? No, it’s— it really suits you,” he says. If you’re not mistaken, he’s stuttering. Not only that, but unless you’re imagining it, he’s blushing. He stares at you, completely unaware of anything or anyone else, golden cheeks tinged pink. “You look really pretty.”

Your turn to blush. Heat flares behind your cheeks, burning into your smile. Pretty, he called you. “Thanks, Brad.”

Bradley seems to come back into himself, a lopsided grin creeping onto his face. He shoves his hands into his jeans pockets and smiles at you. “Hey, you’re welcome. Just tell me next time so I don’t have a heart attack, okay?”

What’s that supposed to mean? You open your mouth to say something, you don’t know what, but Jake’s southern drawl interrupts you.

“Bradshaw!” Both you and Bradley turn to see Jake at the pool table with the rest of the boys. “Stop flirting with Y/N and get over here so I can beat you. Again.”

Bradley rolls his eyes. “He’s lying, I won last week. I’ll be back, okay? Don’t go anywhere.”

You weren’t planning to. He flashes you a dazzling smile and then you watch him go, your heart thrumming with the sort of electricity you can’t ignore. You think you might burst. He’d called you pretty, said you’d given him a heart attack. You feel like your own heart’s about to give out, too.

Across the table, Bradley now well out of earshot, Natasha wiggles her eyebrows at you.

“Oh,” she says slyly. “Now I get why you were so worried about your hair.”

You groan and bury your burning face in your drink again. “Please shut up, Nat.”

You have a feeling she won’t.

[luveline]

you're writing for bradley!! i am so so excited!! could i request just some domestic fluff with shy!reader and bradley? maybe her coming home from a long day and he's just the perfect boyfriend with a glass of wine and a hug ready for her? love u gorgeous 💗

thank you for requesting, babe, I absolutely adored writing this and him, let me known if you have any more!! —bradley helps you feel better after a bad, long day with wine and a multitude of hugs. fem!reader 1k

You push into your apartment, a ground floor slotting of sandblown terracotta tiles and wooden shutters weakened by termites, and pause. There's something wrong, a humming sound. 

You take a step back toward the door and slide your phone from your pocket. 

Hi Bradley, where are you? I think somebody has been in my apartment. Should I worry? you text him. You've continued a streak of politeness with him even now, too shy to dip into the familiarity you feel when he's holding you close over the phone. You follow it up quickly. Don't worry, I'm sure it's okay. Do you know what time you'll be coming over? Any time is OK.

"It's me!" Bradley calls with an easy chuckle. Couch springs creak as he jumps up, and a second later he appears in the living room doorway with a frankly breathtaking grin, shoving his cell into his pocket. "I'm coming over right now. Holy shit, would you look at you?" 

You hold your bag closer to your side, hair not nearly as neat as it started that morning, the day's chaos etched into the small wrinkles either side of your eyes. "Me?" 

When he smiles, it's all white top teeth and joy. For someone who's been through so much, and who works so hard, he's a shaken bottle of fizzy happiness whenever the moment allows —you barely have time to put your bag next to the rack of shoes (and there, his shoes you must've missed toed off and perfectly aligned with your sandy flip flops) when he's crossing the hall in quick strides and pulling you into an ecstatic embrace. 

"Hey," he says, kissing your cheek, moustache not scratchy but far from soft. It rubs a wonky trail as he kisses without goal. Kiss on your nose, your cheek, close enough to your eye to make you cringe and back away. 

"Hi, Brad," you say breathlessly. 

You need time to prepare yourself for seeing him usually, his sudden closeness catching you off guard. You struggle to make any sense of how much he likes you, but you've given up denying his attention. You want it too badly. 

He doesn't stall at your obvious (embarrassing) flustering; he doubles down. His arms like steel cords behind your shoulders, Bradley noses at the side of your face, his breath warm on your cheek as he says, "Sorry, I thought surprising you might be nice, but I didn't think about your nerves." 

"My nerves," you say. 

"Your bad nerves. You're flighty." He gives it another press, the straight line of his nose digging into your cheek before he pulls away. 

Bradley doesn't give you time to miss his arms around you. He makes for the kitchen, notices you aren't following, and grabs your hand. Tugging, he takes you into the kitchen and elbows open your refrigerator, revealing a better sight than what you'd seen this morning. 

"I had to go out again when I saw your fridge," he says, ducking down to push aside what looks like the makings of your favourite meal to unearth a pretty bottle of red. "Sweetheart, when you said you had a shitty breakfast, I was picturing, like, half a grapefruit. Did you eat anything?" 

He only knows what you'd texted him, shitty breakfast code for the found half of a cereal bar in your jacket. 

You don't like to text Bradley too much in case you put him off, but today was bad, and you know he doesn't mind. He'd told you so only a few days ago. His hand full of your stomach, hot under the collar, you can't remember what you'd been talking about initially, your memory intricately busy remembering the planes of his tightly muscled torso and the feeling of his weight atop you, but suddenly he'd been leaning down, brown eyes pleading. "You can talk to me," he'd said. "About anything. I want to hear it. You know that, right?"

So you texted him somewhere around lunch time and had been delighted to find him puttering around doing a whole lot of nothing. He's been keeping himself busy on leave, staying fit, helping your elderly upstairs neighbour put together her new chest of drawers between half marathons and surfing, regular dreamboat stuff. 

I think I'm having a bad day, you'd said. What are you up to, Brad? Can I still see you tonight? 

Why do you act like I'm not obsessed with you? he'd text back immediately. Kidding. Kind of. What's wrong? Can I bring you lunch? 

Raincheck on lunch? I don't think I'll have time. I'll explain later if that's OK. Miss you. 

Miss you too, baby. I wanna hear all about it tonight.

You blink up from his hands to find him staring at you worriedly. You're in your own head, exhausted and a little muddled after such a long day, and he clearly doesn't like it. 

"Is wine gonna make you feel worse?" he asks, tapping your thigh with his knuckles. 

"Definitely not," you say.

"Before dinner?" 

Your smile turns sheepish. You want the wine much more than the dinner, but if you get both, you won't complain. 

He leans back against the fridge, arms crossed, the neck of the wine bottle held precariously in a confident hand. "Sure you're okay?" he asks. 

"I will be." You take a brave step forward and look up into his face. It's difficult to grasp what it is he sees in you when he's like something out of a movie, all brains, brawn, and bleeding heart. You don't get it, but he wants you, and he's here. "Thanks for coming over, Bradley." 

"This shtick again?" he asks, raising his brows. 

"This shtick again," you repeat, grinning at the implication. 

He hooks your ankle with his. "Thanking me for coming over is like thanking a fish for swimming. Couldn't stop myself if I wanted to." 

Your laugh is a wheeze. Brad does you the generosity of pretending you've made a more intelligible sound and pulls you in for a one-armed hug, rubbing a rough up and down into your side. It's such a nice feeling to be tucked up under his arm that you can almost forget how badly you want a glass of wine. 

"Want the big glasses from the top shelf?" Bradley asks knowingly. 

"Yes. Please." 

[jasperhaleluver]

"It was only a kiss"

Bradley 'rooster' Bradshaw x lieutenant! reader

Author's note: Hey guys this is one of my first stories ever I'm sorry if it isn't so good I hope you enjoy though, I'm sorry for any typos. Any requests are welcome for future fics!

Warnings: Angst (happy ending)

No word count!

No mentions of y/n

After a long day of training you were in the bathroom getting ready with Phoenix to go down to the Hard Deck. The whole squad goes about twice or more times a week after training. "So, you and rooster?" Phoenix asks. "Okay well yeah, I really like him, I just don't think that he feels the same way. I hint it to him in such an obvious way he just doesn't get it." You sigh, Phoenix opens the door for you and you guys walk out towards her white bronco. "Well listen, at this point everybody knows you will end up together. I say you should tell him tonight. Pull him aside and do it." You think hard about it. You've been thinking about doing it for a while now you just haven't been able to bring yourself to really do it. I mean Phoenix is right, everybody knows that I like him. Except rooster, he doesn't know yet. You guys drive to the Hard Deck and once you're there you see the guys already hitting it up by the pool table. Fanboy, Coyote and Payback and sitting on stools each with a beer in hand. While hangman is bragging to Bob about how "good" he is at 8 ball. "Hey there ladies, adrmiring my skills I see?" Hangman smirks as he leans up on the cue stick. "Ha you wish" Fanboy laughs as he kicks the stick causing Hangman to fall over. You and Phoenix start laughing. "Wow, if it's so funny, why don't you try hon?" Hangman asks handing you the stick. "Oh you're so on." You chuckle taking the stick from him. "Loser has 400 pushups and 20 bucks." He smirks again. "Alright alright." You laugh getting ready to start the game. You're trying to distract yourself before Rooster gets there. You get down to start your shots. You bank your first few balls, getting way ahead of Hangman, feeling confident. You hear the bell ring indicating that the door's been open, you turn and see Rooster walk in. "Rooster! Over here" Phoenix yells out. Fuck, already just seeing him and your stomach is turning. It's your turn to shoot, you shoot and make it. You stand up straight expecting him to be behind you or walking up. But no, you turn around and see him by the bar posted up by a blonde chick, Olivia is her name. There she is all clinging by his arm, laughing at whatever he says. He's smiling so big at whatever they're laughing at. God he looks so good in those jeans that fit him so well, in that white tank top with his unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt. You hate the thought of them together, the sight of them together. It makes you wanna throw up. You snap back into reality, realizing you were staring, when you hear Hangman's "whoop whoop" you turn around to see that he's caught up with you."What's up kid?" He asks, knowing something is wrong. You shake your head and get ready to shoot. Phoenix nods her head towards Rooster and Hangman understands. "Oh shit." You hear Hangman and Phoenix say as you look and from the corner of your eye you see Olivia pull Rooster in from his shirt and kiss him. You hear Payback whistle at him but Bob elbows him because he knows that you like him. You turn around and stand up straight. "Fuck." You say as you see that you hit the cue ball in. The squad's eyes are on you waiting for you to react. You put the stick down while clearing your throat and start walking away. "Don't go! This round doesn't have to count." Hangman says, you ignore it and walk out of the building. Phoenix follows you and before you can sit on a bench she just hugs you. "I've got you." She says as she holds you. She leads you to her car and you guys silently drive home. She knows that the last thing you want right now is to talk. Once you arrive she tries to stay but you don't let her. She promises to call later. You walk in and you get to your room, you lay down and let it all out. You cry yourself to sleep.

Your alarm wakes you up at 4:30 am, your call time is 5:15 am for training to start at 6 am. You get up from your bed with no motivation, you turn your phone on to see a ton of missed calls from Phoenix and Hangman, texts from the two and one from Bob too. Bob said "are you okay." He isn't a very expressive person but you can tell that he cares. Hangman said "call me" followed by "I'm gonna kill that asshole" and lastly, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have fucking done anything." Meaning he probably went off on him. Phoenix said "Answer me" followed by "I tried to stop Hangman, I'm sorry." Fuck. He knows why you were upset yesterday and now you're gonna have to explain yourself when you see him. You sigh and put your phone down. You do your hair in a slick back bun and put your uniform on. You go out to your motorcycle and make your way to base. You arrive at 5:10 and you make your way to the meeting room, you didn't do your makeup. So you have horrible eye bags, your eyes are red from crying and you're pale. You can tell you're not okay. You walk into the meeting room to see the whole squad already sat and Maverick is sitting at his desk waiting to start the day. You make your way to his desk while the whole squads eyes are on you. You walk up to Mav and see that Bob gives you a light smile when you turn and look at him. You hand your papers for the day to Mav and he gives you a sympathetic look, but tries to keep it proffesional. "Thank you lieutenant." he knows something is wrong but does not want to ask. You go and sit down at your desk for Mav to introduce what the plan is for today. Once Mav is done talking, you're making your way out when Mav calls out to you that you need to go see Hondo. Fuck, your pushups. You walk out of the door to see Hangman. He hugs you tight. "I'm sorry kid but a bet is a bet." He says as you both walk out to where all the planes are parked. Also where all the punishment exercises are done. "Well won't ya lookie what we got here." Hondo says holding in his laugh. Just last week you were bragging about how you were the only one to not get shot during training by Maverick, so you didn't owe 200 pushups like the rest of the squad did. Now here you are, except you owe 400.

"Down 250, Down 251, Down 252..." You zone out Hondo's voice as you see Rooster walking past you. "Wow, thought you weren't gonna be doing any pushups dear?" That damn nickname. God how much you loved when he called you dear, or honey, or baby, sweetie, ugh the list goes on. You ignored Rooster and kept doing your pushups. Once you were done you went and found hangman, except he was with Rooster. But they already see you walking to them so you can't just leave now. "Hey we're gonna head over to Mav's office. We're starting a new circuit today." You nod your head walking past them and you mutter a thanks. You can feel roosters eyes burning into the back of your head as you walk away. God how am I gonna get over this you think. Trainings over and you and Phoenix are getting ready to go to the Hard Deck once again, hoping tonight is nothing like yesterday. You guys head out to her car and start driving. Phoenix tells you to talk to him tonight but you're not sure. "I really think Rooster still doesn't know. If he knew how you felt, he would not keep you waiting. If he knew that he is the reason he felt that way he would never forgive himself. That's not how Goose and Carole raised him to be and you know it hon." You really think about it and she's right.

You guys get to the bar and you're standing by the pool table. Once again Rooster is late so it's the whole squad except for him. The bell rings and you all look towards the door expecting some alcoholic old timer or Rooster. But it seems to be another squad. "Look more badges." Phoenix says eyeing them down. "What kind of mission is this?" Fanboy asks as the other squad sits by the bar. You sigh thinking about Rooster. A part of you misses him but if you had him by your side you wouldn't know what to do. Around an hour and a few pool rounds later, you decide to go get a drink. "Hi baby, what can I get you?" Penny sweetly asks. You tell her what drink you want and as you sit and wait you see one of the guys from that other squad come up to you. "Well what kind of mission is this? I see were not the only squad in uniform around here." He flirtatiously says sitting by you. You see the "Captain" badge on his chest. He's not an older captain like Mav, but something about him going up to younger lieutenants especially from another squad just seems wrong. You don't feel uncomfortable but you don't feel like you want to talk to him, you give him a smile and thank Penny as she hands you your drink. As you're about to get up to head back to your group, the guy grabs your arm causing you to spill your drink all over yourself. "Wait- oh shit. I'm so sorry I- " You just feel the frustration as you're soaked by your drink, and the glass shattered on the floor. You grab a rag from the bar and the dustpan and clean up the mess. Hangman comes up to you and he tells you to go back to Phoenix, he's about to go over to that guy and tell him off. You stop him and tell him that you're fine and to just let it go. You put away the rag and grab Hangman by the arm and take him with you. You're back at the pool table and you sit in the corner and talk with Bob. You've never actually had a deep conversation like you are now, you've just now realized how much you guys actually have in common. You were so caught up in your conversation that you didn't even notice or hear Rooster coming in until he put his hand on your shoulder. "What happened?" He asks looking down at your soaked uniform shirt. "Captain douche over there happened and she didn't let me go-" Hangman starts but is ignored by Rooster as he walks away, he is walking towards that Captain. You immediately get up to go follow him and make sure he doesn't do anything stupid. "Rooster wait-" but he gets to him before you have the chance to grab his arm. "What did you ever learn to respect a young lady? Maybe not spill her drink all over her?" He yells at him flinging his shoulder forcing him to look straight at him. "Look man, I don't want any problems I just-"

"Stay away from her or we will have a problem." Rooster turns back around to look at your, he puts his hands on your shoulders. Tears are swelling up in your eyes as you make eye contact with him. "Honey, what's wrong?" He asks. You burst into tears as he holds you and you two start walking. "C'mere" he says leading you towards the door. You guys make it outside and you're wiping your face. "It's just I- I don't know how to tell you. I was gonna tell you yesterday but you're with Olivia and-" you're still sobbing your eyes out but you're interrupted by Rooster's lips on yours. He pulls away. "Oh baby, I love you so much. It all makes sense now I don't know how fucking stupid I am to not have noticed anytime sooner." He says blushing. "But, you and Olivia?" You say wiping the rest of your tears. "It was only a kiss. That and I didn't like the kiss or her. As for you though, this isn't only a kiss. I want you and only you,.and I have since the first day I laid my eyes on you. I was just so scared to tell you because you're way out of my league." He chuckles. "Oh Bradley." You lean in to kiss him again and you just sit there for a while just the two of you holding each other. He puts his hand under your chin and lifts your face up to look at you, he pulls you into a hug and over his shoulder you can see in the window and there's the entire squad looking out just watching the two of you. You chuckle but as he's about to turn back to see, you grab his face and make him look at you. "Hey, let's do this." He says smiling at you. "Yeah, let's do this." You say as he pulls you into another kiss.

Hope you guys enjoyed it! Again sorry it's not the best but I will keep trying and keep writing more!!

[missmarveledsblog]

A deployment buddy ( Natasha trace x Female!Reader)

summary : it was the last thing Phoenix was expected to find arriving home but when she finds out how truly hard the deployments have been on the love of her life the furry surprise is a most welcome one

Warnings : none just is just cute and fluffy and it has dogs so like winner ... ok maybe not proofread but it has puppers so i think that makes up for it

Ok so maybe rushing into the house was a clear indication something was up but when Natasha trace walked into her  home , thinking her girlfriend some house warming gift or maybe slightly hoping some form of raunchy surprise. What she didn’t expect was the love of her life crouched looking up at  her with a worried expression while her hand was holding the collar of a german shepherd puppy she definitely didn’t remember being there three months when she went on deployment . 

“ erm baby ?” she smiled confused . 

“ yes beautiful and  very understanding love of my life “ y/n batted her lashes hand carding through the puppies fur to try settle the clearly excited pupper at new face . 

“ what the fuck .. don’t play dumb” she rolled her eyes trying to hide the amused smirk on her lips especially as she watched her huffing as she lifted the bundle of fur into her arms . 

“ ok so this is rocket … cause he looks like the racoon… ok so roo was going to get a dog and asked me to go with him so really this is his fault because i can’t say no to cute things that why bob get away with murder we both know this “ she rambled as nat couldn’t help agree bob was cartoonishly cute and did always get his way .  “ plus when your on deployment he can be my deployment buddy so i won’t be lonely ” she smiled sweetly .

“ for one i am kicking bradshaw’s ass  and two i know my deployments have been rough but next time  maybe tell me you going to get an animal “  she laughed coming over rubbing the puppies head of course the little man was the cutest little thing she ever saw and one lick to her hand and she was already goner. 

“ ok next time i will tell you i’m getting one “ y/n  sang out while putting the puppy down heading down to their share room  . 

“ wait i didn’t mean it like that … y/n come back i didn't… come back here” nat chased after only for rocco to yap and follow thinking it was a game his new moms where playing . 

A small welcome home drink in the hard deck nat was surprised to learn rocco was  somewhat popular with the patrons and the owner of the bar . even more surprised when penny already had some treats at the ready . looking up to see y/n , rocco and Mav talking away with bradshaws puppy lou  at the bar smiling at the scene because of course her girlfriend would find a way to get them in  .  

“ you know she wasn’t bad this time … OUCH baby on board what the hell “ jake yelped bringing the brunette attention to her friends . 

“ shut up bagman “ he hissed as nat brows furrowed  while they all refused to meet her eye. 

“ what you mean not that bad?” she asked no one in particular but all of them at once. “ spill it” she glared at her friends . 

“  we always say your lucky right ? “ Rooster sighed  as she nodded. “ because even though it’s kinda a dick thing ..not like that .. she get upset like down bad when your on deployment  and we kinda hope someone love us that much to be like that but it’s hard to watch sometimes when we try help we all know it because she misses you so much it like a part of her goes with you “ he explained as her heart clenched and yet grew bigger with the love she had for that woman she got to call hers.  Of course she knew it was gonna be hard and she was grateful it never was a deal breaker but it was still hard to hear how it affected the one she love more than anything . 

“ but rocco has been helping with that , she been telling him since she got him all about his other mom and he was going to love you as much as she did,   just saying if you do ever want kids that the woman you have them with “ rooster added with a smirk before heading up to the bar .

“ how come you didn’t kick trooster “ was all nat heard before she got up , needing to be with her little family even if one member walked on four legs and was covered in fur.  She barely gave y/n a moment before crashing her lips on hers . all the word she needed to say and couldn’t but that kiss would do for now. 

“ what was that for not that i’m complaining “ y/n let out a breathless chuckle leaning her head on nats shoulder while rocco was giving  his new mom kisses of his own . 

“ because i love you and i love our fur baby “ nat shrugged although rooster could see what the words couldn’t , he could see it was nat way of thanking her for not giving up on her like most women did . not that they blamed them deployment could test the strongest couples and it wasn’t always a success story like nat had. 

“ penny my dear could you take our picture? I need to update the one in my cockpit , locker and my phone “ nat chuckled, handing her phone  over while rooster being a diligent best friend to both women started shoving patrons out of the background before shouting “ all clear” .  both holding the ball of fur as Mav got his attention behind penny and  nat pulling her girl closer to her side , a few clicks and flashes  , penny finally smiled happy as she handed the phone back over. 

“ perfect” nat smiled softly her whole world in front of her and at her side in one moment looking down at the picture  except rocco wasn’t looking at the camera he was looking up at them a pup version that made it look like he was smiling. 

Restless  as the rooster confession hit her , looking down at the sleeping woman in her arms  completely in awe she had found someone she truly could call her soulmate, one she couldn’t wait to grow old with  and have that family  in the future. How natasha trace was never one to believe in that stuff until she met y/n , how she’d never been so happy in her life nor had she ever felt so loved . Only to hear whine and squeak of bark that made the woman in her arm stir. 

“ i got him back asleep “ she chuckled kissing her head before grabbing the robe and sneaker leading the pup down to the kitchen and heading out into the night air taking a seat on the back door step while he zoomed around the back yard.   Thinking of how even though it wasn't the way she wanted to get a pet but if this little bundle of fur made her girl life easier and less lonely when she wasn’t around than that was reason to love him even more than she possibly did . she couldn’t help laugh when he climb into her arms flopping on his little back  there she was holding their puppy like a baby and in a sense he was but she couldn’t help think over rooster words  “if you do ever want kids that the woman you have them with” .  she wanted that with y/n but their was one step she needed to take first . 

“Thank you for taking care of her when i wasn’t here  guess i’m luckiest woman in the world to have you both …  wanna help me make this family official little guy and finally use that ring in my bedside table “ she cooed down as he tapped back up earning a belly rub . “ thanks buddy lets hope she says yes but we gotta make it special thinking beach sort of thing til then its our little secret  ok my deployment buddy” she whispered standing up as the two head back to the woman that made their life the best it ever been .

[fandoms--fluff]

Hcs for being Natasha “Phoenix’s” sister from top gun?

Being Phoenix's Sister Headcannons

She's five years older than you but holds that over you from time to time

You met Bradley and Jake after her Top Gun class graduation

Bradley treats you as his own little sister

And Hangman annoys you to no end, to which you annoy him right back

You've also got a flying license, you're just not a naval aviator

Nat and Bradley taught you how to fly an F-14 in sligjt combat, that was a week after their top gun grad.

Under no circumstances does Phe let you use the stove or the oven. She barely let's you use the microwave without her watch when she's state side

^Which is fair, considering the amount of fires you've had to extinguish

You live off a bunch if vending machine food at the top gun base

And that's how you met your sister's CO, Pete Mitchell, for the special detachment her, Bradly and jackass (aka Jake) were called back for. He caught you kicking the vending machine since it stopped half way through, not dropping the bag of chips you paid for.

To which you guys had a pretty good conversation together, forgetting to mention you're not an actual aviator.

He didn't learn about who you are until after the suicide mission. He saw you and Nat huh each other tightly after everyone got back state side, on the beach. Everyone was relaxing on the beach after the huge excitement that had happened.

Nat introduced you to him as her little sister, and you chuckled as his mouth gaped in surprise.

Everyone watches as you throw one of the footballs they brought at Hangman after him insulting your sister.

^Bradley giving you a fistbump and Nat sighs while trying to hide her smile.

You, Nat and Halo have a big sleepover movie night, just the three of you girls. Halo taking a liking to you, seeing a lot of Nat in you.

You 'borrow' a bunch of Nat's navy sweaters and wear them around the base and the Hard Deck, seeing how many people will belive that you're in the Navy.

You and Penny become good friends at the bar

^you learn some (a lot of) dirt on Maverick from her

Bradley explains to you about his relationship with Maverick and you may or may not have smacked him upside the head about how he cut connection with the man

^to which he agreed he deserved

The whole dagger squad now treat you as their baby sister and you can't go anywhere without 'protection' aka one of them.

You love your big sister to death, when you were younger you wanted to be just like her. Strong, loyal, pretty and much more.

Amelia and you become good friends, you like a mentor to her and teaching her about different flight maneuvers with model planes, everything you learnt from Nat and Bradley...and maybe....maybe Jake.

[coffeeandbatboys]

To Be Loved (Bradley Bradshaw x fem!reader)

When your family treats you badly, Rooster doesn't like it and take a a stand.

Warnings: bad parenting, neglect, verbal abuse.

All it was supposed to be was a relaxing, tension-free summer afternoon barbeque. You would finally introduce Bradley to your family, eat, and leave.

But it wasn't all that simple.

"Guys, this is Bradley." You said nervously, standing next to the handsome man you called yours.

Your step dad moved forward to shake his hand. "Nice to meet you, son."

You grimaced at the level of comfort he had using the term.

Your mom smiled. "Welcome to the family, Bradley. Care for something to drink? There's some stuff in the garage fridge."

He nodded politely with a tiny smile.

"Thank you, ma'am."

He looked at you tentatively as if to make sure you'd be okay. You gave him a weak smile in response. It was once he left the room that your step dad tore into you.

"The Navy, really? You're both in the Navy? Come on. We wanted you to be something more...simple. Maybe a lawyer or a doctor. And as for who you're going to date—"

"Excuse me?" You scoffed. "Since when are my life choices yours to make? You're not even my dad."

"Y/N!" Your mom gasped.

You stood your ground, calm yet angry.

"I am laying my life on the line to protect this country. What I do and who I am with is not your decision anymore."

Your step dad bristled with rage. "I raised you! You ungrateful brat. We set aside college funds for you and you turned around and threw it all out the window."

"Hey, I've heard enough. Stop talking to her like she's a child."

You turned to see Bradley in the doorway with his arms crossed, a question in his eyes.

You nodded softly.

"I think we're done here."

As you strode towards him and took his hand, you turned around to face them once again.

"In case you hadn't realized, there's a reason you didn't know about the wedding."

You didn't miss the shock on their faces before you turned to walk out the door.

Now sitting in the Bronco, you were silent and still a little hot from your rage.

"Everything you've told me could not prepare me enough for what I just heard."

"They've never been able to let me go. The only reason I agreed to come is that all I want is some semblance of a happy family. Not whatever the hell that was."

Bradley's jaw set contemplatively. The Bronco's wheels roared loudly underneath you on the highway.

And before you knew it, you were pulling into a familiar Captain's home.

"Why are we at Mav's?"

Bradley opened his door kissed your temple.

"Just wait a second. I'll be right back."

Soon, both men came out of the hangar and you got out of the car. Maverick gave you a look; not of pity, but of sympathy.

And then he pulled you into a hug.

You could tell he needed to say something.

"I can't always be your dad, but know that if you need, I'm right here."

Your eyes started to well up, and you hugged him a little tighter. "Thanks, Mav."

Once you pulled away, Bradley was by your side again, an arm wrapped around your waist.

"You know I love you. We all do. You've always got another family with us."

You craned your neck to smile at him.

"I love you too, and thanks for having my back."

He held you a little closer.

"Anytime, babe. I'm your wingman."

[skankinator]

Complications Ch. 1

Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x FemReader

Author’s note: This is my first fanfic ever written. I hope you like it!

You grew up near a Navy base in San Diego and always dreamed of flying those jets you saw so often. You joined the military as soon as you turned eighteen. That was ten years and many stations ago. You’ve finally established yourself as a missions specialist after having to repeatedly prove yourself. Each mission you plan and execute takes you to a new destination. This one brought you back home.

The missions you specialize in are air operations. From the beginning of your career you made certain that you were the top in your class for everything, especially aviation. This quickly got you promoted to Top Gun where you spent a few years as an elite aviator. Your job has brought you to complete a mission with Top Gun’s Dagger Squadron.

You had files on each member of the squadron to study before arriving. You briefly looked over them on the flight over, only taking note of any information useful to the mission. You would have to teach them every aspect of your plan and train them to execute it perfectly, so you didn’t pay attention to little details.

You had a pre-furnished apartment ready for the time you would be posted in San Diego. You have little belongings from moving so frequently. You could fit your whole life into a couple of boxes. Traveling so frequently also made it difficult to maintain relationships, except your friendship with Stacie.

You texted your closest friend from high school that still lives in the area telling her that you had arrived. You didn’t expect an answer from her for a while. She works third shift at the 24/7 pharmacy, so she wouldn’t be awake for a few hours.

After arriving at the airport, you gathered your suitcases and took a taxi to the apartment. It wasn’t much. Just a one bedroom apartment with a small kitchen and living area. The furniture was rather plain and there were no decorations aside from a bowl on the coffee table full of potpourri.

You left your luggage unpacked and decided to leave your drab apartment. You got dinner at your favorite food truck, unsurprised that they are still in business. Best. Tacos. Ever. Feeling nostalgic, you decide to go to the bar in which you and your squadron spent most of your time.

The Hard Deck had not changed a bit. When you arrived the place was already swarming with people from the base. You made your way over to the bar where you were greeted by a familiar face.

“Y/N! I haven’t seen you in ages, what brings you back,” Penny said with a bright smile. One that reminded you of home.

“I’ve got a mission for a Top Gun squadron. How bad are they these days?” You question knowing Penny was the best person to ask about the cocky pilots.

“Not as bad as your class,” she said with a knowing look that brought a tinge of red to your cheeks. To be fair, you were once a hot shot pilot looking down on others from the high horse called Top Gun.

You spent many nights causing trouble at the Hard Deck. Penny had kicked your squad out on several occasions that ended with you sleeping in the sand. Some say your squad let a pelican into the bar and ordered it a beer. This cannot be confirmed nor denied by anyone. Alcohol conveniently has a way of messing with your memory.

“We had some good times,” you said to Penny as she handed you a beer and went to take orders from the very crowded bar. You sat and relaxed sipping on your beer while silently people watching. This was one of your favorite past times.

You saw people mingling with their cliques. Some in uniform some not, either way you could tell who was military or civilian. You end up focusing on a pool game happening across the bar. The group of friends/colleagues? were dressed in their khaki uniforms.

After a while, another joined the group. He wore a Hawaiian shirt that hugged his biceps and a pair of sunglasses that hid his eyes. His skin was kissed by the sun and damp with sweat. San Diego was hot this time of year. You opted for a white tank top and denim shorts that left just enough to the imagination.

You couldn’t help but stare at this stranger. You hadn’t noticed he was the center of your attention until he disappeared. You found yourself looking for him around the bar. Somewhere within the loud jumble of noise from the crowded bar came music. This wasn’t music from the jukebox, it was a piano.

You looked over and saw your mystery man sitting there beginning to play his heart out. Everyone around joined in singing and dancing to the song he played. You payed little attention to the music distracted by his strong arms expertly moving to the music. His long fingers delicately touching the keys. His neck muscles straining as he sang.

Oh shit. You’re really turned on by a really hot stranger. You haven’t exactly had your needs fulfilled since you broke up with your ex. Since then you busied yourself with work and left little time for dating. Of course, you don’t have to date a guy to have your needs met.

You didn’t notice the song end, but you had noticed a presence next to you. Your jaw nearly dropped when you saw the sexy stranger standing next to you. He was rather close thanks to the crowd. Penny and the other bar tenders were trying to get to everyone as quickly as they could, but you would rather them take their time. The stranger stood waiting to order another round.

“I haven’t seen you here before,” he said out of the blue. It took a moment for you to realize he was talking to you.

“I-I just flew in today,” you said cursing yourself. Really, that’s all you could muster up. It is hard to think of anything witty to say when you are lost in his smile.

“What brings you to San Diego? I hope it’s not a boyfriend,” he says deepening his voice for the second half. Oh my god is he flirting with me?!

“No boyfriend, just work. I am a… um new teacher. My first day is Monday,” you say putting on a flirtatious look. Technically you are not lying. But are here to teach fighter pilots, not school kids. In the past you have found that men can be run off by your high position in the military.

“Let me buy you a drink to start your school year out right,” we both laugh and look to the still very busy bartenders. We look back to each other. I wish he would take off those silly sunglasses. There is a short lull in the conversation before you pipe up.

“What about you?” You blurt out, just realizing he has been lead in the whole conversation. “What do you do?” His answer is not surprising. His look totally fits the part.

“I’m a pilot,” the way he says it doesn’t sound like a brag at all. He isn’t trying to show boat, instead he states it as fact nothing more.

“Lucky for you I quite like pilots,” your buzz from the three beers have finally taken over. You place your hand on his chest creeping up to his shoulder. He closes what little space is available and places a large hand respectfully low on your thigh.

You can tell he is waiting for you to make the first move. You lean up from your barstool and pull him down into a kiss. His lips are soft contrasting his prickly mustache.

The kiss doesn’t last as long as you would like. When you separate it is like time is frozen. There are no words between the two of you. You are both brought back to earth by a perfectly timed question.

“Can I get you anything?” Penny questions and you snap back to reality a bit flustered.

“I think we would like to close our tabs,” he says after clearing his throat. It’s like he read your mind. Penny looks to you and gives an approving smile and wink before turning to close the tabs.

Once everything is settled, you are making your way through the crowd with a warm hand on your lower back guiding you to the exit.

[ouralcohol]

Let You In

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x fem!reader 

Summary: what happens when Bradley finally lets you in?

Tags: angst, lots of angst, 18+, allusions to sex, soft, maybe some fluff if you squint your eyeballs

Author’s note: I saw a gif and immediately got inspired. Some people inspired this too... enjoy... comments and reblogs make the world go 'round.

This was the first time you had done this with him. You didn't think that you would have gotten this far with him if you were being honest with yourself. Bradley Bradshaw always had a line of women lined up around the corner whenever he was in town. The reason you knew this was because for as long as you could remember, he always had some kind of arm candy with him whenever he went to the local bar while he was in his hometown of Virginia Beach.

From the last couple of years that you had known him, you never thought that you would get here. More specifically, get here with him. You had always wondered what it would be like to be with him underneath the sheets. Anyone that had eyeballs and a sense of taste would agree. So, what had changed? What had made the line between friends to… whatever this was, blur? You weren't exactly sure, perhaps it had to do with his near death experience? Or was it your signature sundress that you happened to wear every time he strolled in?

The dress was bunched up somewhere on his apartment floor right now… not that it mattered. What mattered was that you were here with him.

Out of all the girls he could have chosen-- he chose you.

You never asked him how long he was here, but you did notice that he was coming around to the bar more frequently. The fact of the matter was that Bradley was good, he was very good in bed. The naval aviator had made you see stars in a manner that you never seen them before. Everything was different with him.

There was some faint music that hit your ears. You stirred from your slumber as your hands rubbed the tiredness from your eyes. This had been one of the most restful sleeps you had gotten in a long time. If it wasn't one thing, it was another. Stress was never your friend and you hated it. However, on this particular night, you had slept like a rock. It took you a couple of seconds for your brain to register where you were. The surroundings were not familiar, but you felt at ease. The photo frame on the nightstand made you smile as the moonlight shone upon the frame.

You were in Bradley's bed in his Virginia home. You noted the owner was missing. Ah, so that must be the source of the music, your brain thought as you looed around for your underwear. And idea sparked as your eyes saw that one of his Hawaiian shirts was also on the floor. Contrary to popular belief, you had come to find out that he only owned four, maybe five shirts in total. Your hands grabbed it as you ever so carefully slipped it on, afraid to wrinkle it even more. You didn't even bother to button the oversized shirt. It didn't reveal anything-- maybe some side boobage, but rare if that. Your feet carried you out into the hallway and walk closer to where the music was coming from. The melody that was playing was very different from the lively jigs that the common folk were so attuned to. It was a much slower and softer tune, melancholy even. Curiosity filled you as you inched closer, the music getting louder.

There were many sides to Bradley. People only saw what they wanted to see. People only heard what they wanted to hear. Everyone saw him as an energetic, happy-go-lucky kind of guy, but there were fleeting moments where you happened to glance his way and he was staring off into space for a brief second-- lost in his own thoughts. You never made any mention of it as it wasn't your place to ask. You were friends, but you didn't feel like he was comfortable enough to let himself be a certain way with you.

You being you, wanted to know everything about him. You wouldn't lie to yourself and say that you weren't infatuated, because you were. Every girl at the bar was infatuated with him whenever he walked in. The music factor was a bonus and caused them to leave their tongues hanging out. The way some women gawked at him was incredible. You didn't understand how you could feel this way toward someone that you hardly knew. If you only knew.

Once you had stepped into the small open space and saw his broad shoulders hunched over the piano, your body instantly relaxed. You hadn't realized that you had been nervous, your heart beginning to hammer in your chest with anticipation. You should have known what to expect, but you didn't know exactly what was in store. It's not like you slept with every guy… and it only made you wonder how many girls he had brought home. Seeing his fingers touch the keys so fluidly reminded you just how skilled he had been a few hours ago while making you see heaven on Earth. He wasn't wearing much, only his boxers-- he didn't even have to try to do anything and he looked so handsome. With his locks a little messy, but still so good that made you want to run your fingers through his hair like you had done a while ago.

The image floated in your mind which made you squeeze your thighs together before making your way to where he was sitting down. You had your hands behind your walk while you stood next to the piano. Bradley immediately noticed you, his eyes stuck on your face as his fingers continued to move across the keys so effortlessly-- a softer tune now, "Sorry if I woke you up." Bradley uttered. "Couldn't sleep?" You asked suddenly feeling shy, exposed even. You felt like you were invading his personal intimacy with his piano. Bradley Bradshaw's eyes did not stray from yours, not even for a second. His fingers came to a slow stop-- the ringing of the notes lingering in the air.

The thick tension that caused all of this to happen between you both, had returned. It enveloped you and him in an imaginary bubble. You swallowed thickly as you felt his hand circle around your wrist to bring you in front of him. Your body was encased between him and his piano. Bradley's big strong hands held you in place, eyes still locked on yours. "No. I can never sleep anymore." The pilot whispered to you. You let out a slow breath. He was letting you in. "May I?" You gently queried as you brought your hand up to his face. Bradley nodded, "Close your eyes." You told him with a quiet voice. He did as you asked without hesitation, his body tensing.

You shifted your body slightly-- hitting some random keys in the process so you could have better access to him. You placed your index finger on his neck and ran down his scar ever so delicately. Some would say it was a featherlight touch, you just didn't want to overwhelm him with the sensory that was going on. He wasn't a porcelain doll by any means, but you also felt like he didn't let people touch sensitive areas that reminded him of his past. Bradley inhaled sharply and you hesitated for a split second before continuing. Moments that only took seconds felt like a complete eternity to you, maybe for him too. Everything happened in slow motion for you. The area surrounding you both dissolved and you felt like you were floating and all of time had stood still with Bradley in front of you. Once you finished tracing that scar, you transitioned to the ones on his chin. The contrast of your soft skin against the stubble of his was making your insides melt. You noticed that Bradley was very still. A part of you wanted to tell him that it was okay, that it was just you. However, something inside you refrained you from doing so, though, a little voice in the back of your head was telling you that this silence was exactly what he needed. You took your index finger back and used your pinky to touch the scar on his lower cheek near his mouth. Then the one near his ear. The pilot let out a shaky breath through his mouth, as he opened his eyes, still fixated on yours. Your heart was going a mile a minute, hand slightly shaking from the sensation that this caused you.

He was giving you a tender look, almost like he could finally breathe again. "Moonbeam." He said, "Bradley." You responded with your hands still on his face. The nickname had stuck after a second meeting, something he had never clarified with you. It wasn't common, and you didn't question him. You waited for him to speak, for him to say anything.

He turned his head face down and pressed his forehead against your abdomen, the grip on your hips tightening as he said something that you couldn't make out. "What?" You gasped before you could stop yourself. You felt the air he was breathing linger in your lower abdomen, as he spoke a little louder, "You make me feel less lonely." Once your brain registered the words that had been told, you wondered if he had brought anyone here. "Oh?" You queried him, hopefully not pushing him too much. Bradley picked his head up again as he looked back up at your face, "I don't bring people here. There's so much… but.. with you.. things feel easier." He managed to say, his voice slow and even. You could tell this was taking a toll, but you waited calmly. Your heart was instantly breaking and re-stitching itself as the words echoed in your brain.

Bradley Bradshaw was a sweet man. Bradley Bradshaw was someone that deserved to be love just like anyone else. Your thumb began to caress this cheek as he inhaled again, breathing you in, taking all of you and getting drunk from your scent alone. "I'm the first person you bring here?" You asked unable to stop yourself as your other hand went to the other side, now cupping his face. He nodded slightly, "I'm always moving about, but you've been the one consistent person here in Virginia… the bar is consistent, I wasn't expecting you to be there every time either." Perhaps, that was the catalyst of this all. You were usually there with friends, but tonight had been different. You were alone. Bradley was alone. Two people alone together was better than one.

This man was telling you everything with his body language, and you were listening very intently. "How are you feeling now?" You asked curiously as your lips pressed to his forehead. Your body began to feel at ease as his words continued to flow out of his mouth, "At ease." A scrunched up smile filled his features as you let out a soft laugh. The next movement surprised you, causing you to sit back on the keys while Bradley stood up, towering over your body as his hands went down to the hem of his shirt and dipped under to touch the soft flesh that was your skin. You blinked a couple of times as you said, "Why moonbeam?" You sputtered out, almost unable to form a coherent sentence. The pilot then brought his forehead to the crook of your neck, "…it's stupid." He whispered against your skin, causing goosebumps to rise and an involuntary shiver to go down your spine. "It's not stupid if I like it.." You remarked as your hands fell to your sides, your head tilting back to allow him more access your hair falling behind you cascading on top of the piano. "Whenever I leave for a mission or I'm gone for a tour… I just look at the moon and think of you." A shy boy spoke to you, but you didn't care, "You think of me?" You queried him again. The questions were pouring out of you now. You didn't know when you would get another chance like this and you would take it with everything you had.

His head snapped up to meet your gaze again, his hazel eyes boring into your own. Bradley then grabbed your hand and placed it over the erection in his boxers, a gasp leaving your mouth, "Don't you see what you do to me? How could I not think of you?" He asked, sounding equally as shocked as you were in asking, "I don't know, Bradley. Tonight was our first time together.. and I was just never sure, I guess." A small shrug followed your words, but you couldn't think anymore as he fiercely grabbed you by the hips and set you down on top of the piano before his hand wrapped around your neck. Your lips made a little oh face as his index finger trailed ever so slowly down the front of your body, between the fabric that was his shirt. You felt yourself arch your back in response to his advance while closing your eyes, thinking of the bliss that he was going to cause you again.

Your feet hit another set of random keys as you planted them on there, his mouth on your belly button while he distinctly said, "Make me forget again. Give me euphoria." Bradley Bradshaw told you. You frantically nodded as his hands pulled down your panties. You got the sensation of the cool air, but didn't budge.

Your questions would be answered later. For now. You would get lost with him in the bliss that you both created when two lonely souls met.

This was were you belonged.

[senawashere]

Hi could I request something fluffy for Bradley? Maybe he comes home after a bit too many beers at the Hard Deck and is super needy just needs a bit of affection🤭 please take your time, and no rush! You can go wherever you want with this:)

We're on this together...(Chapter VII)

Summary: Cat is out of the bag.

A/n: It took a lot,sorry.. And thank you @promisingyounglady for thus request,i changed it a bit,hope you will like it!!!

Warnings: Infertility,mentions of miscarrige,mentions of hospital,mentions of getting pregnant,mentiones of ivf.Use of alcohol,arguing,use of bad languange. Not so angsty anymore🥹

September 11 2022

If there was one thing Bradley wanted, it was to spend the rest of his life with you.

If there was one thing Bradley definitely wanted, it was to have a family with you.

You wished he was more creative, more romantic, but when your period was late and you started feeling queasy about food, you took a pregnancy test and burst into tears when you saw the result.

You had been trying for this for years and you were exhausted.

Mental breakdowns, crying sessions, crises, fights, negative tests, negative doctor visits and more, it hurt a lot for years.

But one day everything changed.

That test that you were used to seeing as negative came back positive that day.

You were pregnant.

You wished you could create something to share the news with Bradley, but he came running to your screams, his eyebrows pinched together in distress and he ran into the bathroom with a frantic "Baby?!"

You were jumping, holding the test with tears streaming down your face, "We're going to be parents! Bradley, we're going to be parents!"

"What?!" Bradley screamed, his vision instantly blurring as he gasped for air and gasped for air, and he stood up to ground himself from the overwhelming emotions and pulled you to his chest, giving you a bone-crushing hug.

Another thing you'll remember forever.

°•°•°•

Of course you were smart enough to wait nine months, but you didn't expect Bradley to be so protective of you the moment he found out you were pregnant.

"Why are you using the kettle, baby? There's hot water in there."

"Oh no, honey, you're not taking Duke to the park by yourself."

"Don't sleep too close to the side, baby, come here, into my arms."

"What are you doing?! Hell no, you're not even going near the vacuum cleaner."

You could barely breathe as Bradley watched you, his body ready to interfere with you.

God forbid, because right now your baby is lying in your womb sipping on damn cocktails in your bladder.

“What happened? What happened?” Bradley woke up frantically, his sleepy eyes wide and his hair a mess as he leaned towards you.

“Baby, I’m just gonna pee.” you chuckled quietly.

He rubbed his eyes as he got out of bed, muttering, “Okay, let’s go.”

You sat down on the bed, looking at him in shock as he yawned and waited for you.

“Bradley, I’m seriously just gonna pee,” you said, before pointing to the bathroom, “Right there.”

Your husband’s arrogance made him look at you in confusion, “Yeah, I know. Come on then, let’s go and pee.”

You stood up, “I’m not gonna pee while you’re staring at me like a hawk.”

“Okay, I won’t look then.”

“Roo!”

“Whaaaat?” He shrugged at you as he dragged you to the bathroom, looking at you, “I just want to protect you and our baby.”

“I think that’s great, but baby,” you sighed, “Go back to bed and let me pee on my own, okay?”

He wasn’t sure, his eyebrows furrowed as he crossed his arms over his chest in displeasure as he watched you step closer to him, wearing your fluffy slippers.

“Relax, cranky,” you teased, before pressing a kiss to his cheek and heading into the bathroom.

Brad, being Brad, sat on the bed, his eyes glued to the closed door, mentally prepared to rush you if you did so little as whimper.

But minutes later, you washed your hands, yawned, and rubbed your eyes before jumping on your waiting husband.

You shook your head and let out a laugh of disbelief, “I can’t believe you.”

Worse, Bradley wasn’t the only one constantly freaking out and protecting you from the world’s many terrible dangers, and more specifically, TV remotes, vacuum cleaners, and everything else that was going on around him.

But so was Duke.

The little—now big—pup was definitely his dad’s best friend, because Duke’s body had grown and he would be right next to you whenever a family member or friend got too close. If you were all sitting on the couch, Duke’s paw was always on your belly next to Bradley’s hand.

It was enough to make you wonder if Duke was even human.

Bradley shared the news with the squad when you were almost 3 months pregnant:

"She's over there!"

His voice was drowned out by the clinking of glasses and the heavy bass of the rock song playing through the crappy speakers in the corner of the room, but it was still unmistakable. His "greeting" was followed by shouts and howls from the rest of the group, many of whom raised their glasses in honor of your (late) arrival.

"My hot wife!"

Bradley, despite his drunkenness, smiled widely and greeted you protectively, as he had for the last few weeks – this time he removed your coat and purse, along with any bags or extra weight he had hanging on brass hooks underneath.

You scanned the bar table and his facial expression for any signs of displeasure or concern.

He couldn't pinpoint exactly when he started "dad mode," his tendencies to go into overdrive, but it definitely started that rainy and cold Tuesday night in your shared bathroom as you sat leaning against the wall of the tub with three positive pregnancy tests.

“I wish you would stop calling me that, Brad,” you sneered as he helped you free your arms from your jacket. "One day you'll make a scene."

The drunk man chuckled.

"What can i say,baby?."

You nodded and rolled your eyes at his antics as you turned your attention towards to your soon to be husband and the man of the hour, intending to pull him in for quick hug and a kiss.

“Y/n!”

Despite the loud noise of the bar, you heard a familiar voice. You turned back to see Jake coming towards you both. Approaching Bradley first.

"Hello, birthday boy," Jake's voice was soft against the drunken slur that was beginning to take over Bradley.

"It's not nice of you to be late for my party,"

“Well sometimes traffic can be a pain in the ass,you know that. But here are my two favorite people standing together. Come give me a hug” he slurred, pulling both in rather roughly for a bone-crushing hug.

You managed to squeeze out a giggle between Jake's bone-crushing hug.

You saw Bradley stiffen out of the corner of his eye, as if saying, "Jeez calm down, dude. She's pregnant, for God's sake," or letting the interaction continue.

He knew he wasn't allowed to do the first one because you both agreed to wait until all your friends and family gathered at the same time to tell them the great news, so Bradley let Jake hug you. You hugged extra tight despite his unrealistic, dramatic concerns that he would crush his fragile body or somehow harm the baby. When he released you from his grasp, he made sure to send Jake a reassuring smile.

Your greeting to Penny and Natasha was short and sweet, both opting to kiss you on the cheek.

“Let me see it one more time,” Natasha’s voice was quiet, almost a whisper, over the chatter of the bar.

You felt the heat creep up your cheeks as she took your hand in hers to examine the ring on your fourth finger.

The ring was thin and gold, studded with a single, elegant but large diamond in the center.

“It's beautiful,” she whispered, marveling at the way the jewel floated even in the dim, tungsten glow of the bar.

You mumbled a quiet “thank you” before leading back to the other side of the table. You turned to where Bradley was waiting for you with his arms outstretched, a shit-eating grin on his face.

You caught the wind of tequila on his breath as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders.

You tasted it too, kissing his lips quickly and - oh my god, had he gained weight too? Or was he getting more bulkier? But he looked like a whole damn meal like this too.

"So okay?You did worry me when you said you were going to be late,are you okay now?" Bradley's question was asked in a low voice so only he could hear.

Bradley had been celebrating all day with Jake, Natasha, Javy, Mickey,Bob,Maverick and Penny so this was the first time he saw you since you kissed him and sent him off to work this morning.

You nodded and smiled, but your face made Bradley believe otherwise.

"I felt nauseous when I got home from the office. It took me a little longer to get out the door," he shrugged, implying that it wasn't a big deal but that he didn't feel 100 percent ready to party either.

“Baby,” Bradley half-scolded you, feeling a good portion of his hum leave his body when Y/N said she wasn’t feeling well. Clinging on you like a koala because of the alcohol in his veins.

"Why didn't you tell me you were not feeling good? I would come home and sit with you."

“I wasn't going to ask you to interrupt your best friend's birthday dinner just because I was vomiting for the umpteenth time this week,” you said sternly, making it clear that you were fine.

"I'm fine. I promise."

Bradley's jaw softened at your sentence, the muscles in his torso relaxing from their tense positions.

"Oh! Will you two stop whispering and get drunk with me?!" Jake shouted across the table, bursting the bubble that had temporarily surrounded the couple as both whispered about their sweet little secret they were dying to tell everyone.

“You,” Jake pointed a finger at Y/N’s head. “Don’t be shy. Now,” he pointed at the bartender who was making drinks at the opposite end of their table.

Both you and Bradley chuckled nervously, not sure how to handle the fact that you couldn’t drink without airing dirty laundry.

“I think I need to eat some food before I do that. Why don’t you get some for Bradley,” You grabbed Bradley’s shoulder and pushed him forward, praying that it would be enough to entertain the drunk boy.

“Fine,” Jake glared.

“That’ll make it hard for you to keep up later, though!”

He grabbed Bradley by the bicep and pushed through the crowd to get him liquor, which he was so eager for.

Your conversations with Penny were light, mostly about what they had done today and the bet they had made that Bradley would need to have a ride for the night.

You successfully dodged Natasha’s questions about how the fertility and planning were going,how the doctor was and was it helping your sex life.

“We are trying hard,it is going good,” you replied with a nervous chuckle, the truth being that you were pregnant right now.

It felt like ages before the two of them – Jake and Bradley– returned.

You had chosen the fries and were sipping on the ginger ale Bradley had bought you before Jake came, but you were interrupted when Bradley and Jake returned to the table.

He was drunk.

Quite drunk.

More than tipsy.

Damn he wasn’t even seeing straight anymore.

And you knew it because his body was even warmer and his eyes looked even hazier than before he left.

You definitely imagined them having more than one shot at the bar, but you didn’t have much time to think about it before you felt his arms wrap around your waist and rest on your hips. You returned his touch, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and resting your head on his chest.

“I love you,” Bradley murmured into the soft spot between your jaw and ear, then his hands slid under your shirt to rest on your lower belly.

“I love you too,” you said again.

You could feel him smiling against your skin as he cradled the barely-there baby bump beneath your oversized sweater.

Bradley was the only one who saw you regularly enough to notice the small changes your body was going through. To everyone else, you still looked like plain old Y/N.

“We like you more but if you don’t stop fooling me in the middle of this bar,” You began, speaking light-heartedly and quietly into your ear, “Everyone will know and you won’t understand. You have to be quiet in order to have that announcement party you’ve been planning for weeks.”

Bradley sighed, knowing you were right, and loosened his grip on your stomach, choosing to at least throw an arm over your shoulder to keep you close.

“I know what you’re up to,” Jake and Natasha looked at the two from across the table.

This caught the attention of not only Jake and Natasha, but also Bob,Maverick and Penny. Everyone turned to look at Jake, anticipating what he was going to say next.

“So what’s going on here, Y/n?” Jake asked flirtatiously.

A frown formed on Btadley’s face, his arms quickly pulled up to his chest as he huffed.

“You’re trying to get out of here and leave us alone on your birthday.”

“I guess I’m not even here then. I guess I am just your fantasy then,” Bradley said, rolling his eyes.

“We’re not trying to leave you, man. I promise,” you stuck your pinky out on the table as a gesture of sincerity.

“Besides.” Jake’s drunken chatter was starting to sound rather childish now, and it was getting more and more entertaining by the second.

“We don’t do that, Bangman,” Bradley Replied.

“Liars. Both of you.”Jake threw a bunch of straw wrappers in Bradley’s direction, which bounced off Bradley’s chest and landed near his feet.

They were both heavily intoxicated now, and you didn’t want a fight between them.

“Where could we possibly go, hmm?” Bradley scoffed, resting his chin on the knuckles of his free hand that was resting on the table. "What better thing could we possibly plan than spending time with you on my birthday dinner?"

They watched as Jake fought his remaining sobriety for an answer, but he eventually gave in to his drunkenness and said, "I don't know. You're probably going to fuck each other or something.”

The table burst out laughing and you hid your face in Bradley’s chest because you were embarrassed.

“It wouldn’t surprise me,” Penny said before taking a long sip of her cocktail.

“Look. We’re in agreement.” Jake tried her best to sound serious in his drunken stupor.

“Prove to me that you won’t leave me at here and have another shot,” Jake said like a 5-year-old.

“Dude why the fuck they would leave you here at his own party dinner?” Bob asked but Bradley cut him off. “Fine,” Bradley shrugged. “Let’s go back to the bar then.”

Bradley started to pull Jake towards him but was stopped abruptly.

“No,” Jake said quickly.

“Y/n too. If you both drink, you can’t go home and leave me,” he said proudly, as if it was the smartest idea he could come up with.

“Hangman, maybe she doesn’t want to drink with y-” Bob was cut once again.

“Oh my god Bob stop, she loves drinking!” Jake absurdly said.

He couldn’t even form proper sentences and he wouldn’t listen to anything you said or Bradley or Bob.

You just knew that Jake was sloppy drunk and acting like an idiot like he always did, but you couldn’t help but feel your palms start to sweat.

You couldn’t tell Jake the real reason you couldn’t have drinks with the group tonight, so you quickly tried to come up with another excuse since you’d been stuffing your belly with fries since he’d given you your last one.

But there was no need to think any further when Bradley was helping you with his.

“She can’t do that, man. Now, come on. Let’s get some more tequila. Looks like Nat,Javy and Mickey needs some more too, hmm?”

You pinched your nose in annoyance. He was doing his best to keep this all under wraps, but Jake was making it extremely difficult.

“Who are you? Her guardian? Are you telling her what she can and can’t do?” he shouted.

“No, you fucking nun. She can’t drink because you can’t drink when you’re pregn-”

Damn it.

Bradley covered his mouth before he could finish his sentence, but it was too late. He wasn’t sure what he was thinking when he said it. To be completely honest, he wasn’t even sure if he was thinking.

He silently prayed that neither Jake nor the others would hear him, but when they all looked between him and you with wide eyes, he knew immediately that it wasn’t true.

“Y/N, are you pregnant?” Maverick was the first to speak.

You felt stuck in place, only able to stare at Bradley with a very fast beating heart and an open mouth.

“I, um, I – yeah?” It came out more as a question due to your state of shock.

“I’m so sorry baby,” Bradley cried, turning to you to comfort you.

He was writhing with fear that you were angry with him, but it was mostly the alcohol that made him think that way.

“You have a baby?” Jake’s voice was unusually low compared to how loud he had been shouting earlier.

“Yes. It will be.” You were laughing nervously as you spoke. “I’m sorry Bradley ruined the surprise. We wanted to throw a big party and tell everyone at the same time, but I think the cat’s out of the bag for you.”

You rubbed the palm of your hand over Bradley’s back, silently assuring him that you weren’t mad at him. But the others were in a completely different world.

Jake didn’t say anything, just moved from his position next to Bob to get between You and Brad.

He looked at you both with an expression that resembled both anger and confusion, which only increased your discomfort.

In a split second, he wrapped his arms around both of you and hugged both of you tightly.

“Wow! This is the best news i heard today. Uncle Jake…What the fuck?! This is amazing!!

Now he was wandering around, smiling from ear to ear as he ran to Mickey and Javy, who had lost their minds again, to pull them into a group hug on her own chairs instead of on yours and Bradleys.

Both your eyes locked on each other in the middle of the group of friends and they were forced to be a part of his sandwich.

A smile and a knowing look exchanged between you, and despite not coming out in the most fashionable way, you knew that your precious little nugget would be surrounded by people who loved them very much. Everybody took their time to hug both of you and congratulate you.

By the end of the night, Jake leaned over his knees and placed his icy hands on your belly.

"Hi, I'm Jake, I love you..." He began to kiss her belly in a drunken voice.

"Fuck off Jake, that's enough." You burst out laughing as Bradley shouted from behind you.

"Okay.”

And that's how your pregnancy was revealed…

Few weeks later…

For a few days, it was Bradley and Duke’s normal protectiveness that you had gotten used to, but it wasn’t until Bradley’s mother invited you to a family gathering that Bradley reached a new level.

“Go join the others, okay?” You told him, “I’ll be fine here with your relatives,” and despite not being sure, he did as you asked, but looked at you often to make sure you were okay.

When someone is pregnant, that’s the talk of any sit-down.

“You’re glowing!” Many of Bradley’s family members fawned over your belly and your pregnancy, “Did you find out the sex of the baby?” one woman asked. You said you didn’t because you wanted to know when the baby was born.

All of this was fine.

But.

A lot of hands were constantly touching your belly.

You knew it was good intentions, but you couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable with every hand touching your belly—hands from people you weren’t that familiar with.

Every time someone touched your belly, you tried to take a discreet step back, trying to put your hands on your belly before they did, but it was no use.

Bradley knew you like the back of his hand.

So, in a failed attempt to hide your discomfort, he immediately tried to save you as you stood with a forced smile on your face with 6 of his relatives.

“Hi,” he chuckled, wrapping his arm around your waist before placing a quick kiss on your cheek.

“What if you’re not the father!” A woman joked happily, “We were just giving Y/N tips for the first month when the baby came,” she said before leaning forward to caress your belly, “I think it’s a baby girl.”

You frowned at the touch, taking a slight step back as you also moved closer to Bradley. He understood, wrapping his other arm around your waist, his relative pulling his hand away reflexively,

“Anyway, I’ll be so happy. Can you give us one minute please?” He asked them with a gentle smile before taking your hand in his and letting you both go to a quieter place.

You sighed in relief, caressing your little belly.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asked softly, his hands covering your face, “What’s wrong, honey?”

“I just-” You sighed again, feeling overwhelmed with emotions that would make you cry.

“Hey, hey,” Bradley’s mood changed instantly, his eyebrows furrowed as he hugged you, pulling you closer to his chest, “I’m right here, I’m right here.”

“I just,” your husky voice said before you pulled away slightly but still leaned into him, “Everyone keeps touching my belly. Like, all these hands and all these people and some of them are like, some of them are just rubbing it or something or holding it there for a long time so they can feel the baby kick and it just makes me so uncomfortable.”

Bradley nodded as you spoke, looking into your eyes as he began, “You have every right to be uncomfortable, baby, I’m so sorry,” he said softly, “How about we go home, yeah? We can just go.”

“But your mom-”

He shook his head, “My mom will understand, I promise. I care about your comfort more than anything else,” he said. “Let’s go, okay?”

“Okay,” you sniffled.

“Yeah?” He smiled softly and leaned down to press his lips to yours in a soft kiss. “I love you, I’m so sorry.”

“I love you too,” you replied, before sighing, wrapping your arms around him. “And my back really hurts.”

“We’ll go home,” he said as he began to rub your back. “And I’ll massage you until you fall asleep, how does that sound?”

“Heavenly.”

He murmured, “How about I call my mom so you can say goodbye? You don’t have to say goodbye to everyone, I don’t want more people touching you.”

“You mean like I don’t know,” you shrugged, “Isn’t it a bit rude?”

“Fuck it,” Bradley replied instantly, “I can’t risk making you feel any more uncomfortable because someone might think it’s rude.”

And he kept his promise. Bradley called his mom so you could sneak off alone and say goodbye to the relatives.

And then he kept his promise once more because as soon as you got home he was buzzing around like a busy bee, making sure you were happy and comfortable before massaging your back.

“Mmh i love you so so so much,baby”

“Love you too honey.”

Child jake vs dagger squad

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[nykie-love-anime]

Valentine’s Day – Top Gun: Maverick

Jake

Bradley

Bob

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