#breaker bradshaw

[ethunreal]

it’s giving fraternity vibes

[callmeonmyrazr]

happy 4/20 bitches!!! one of my fav days of the year even though i celebrate it every day LOL 💚✨

[roosterforme]

Is It Working For You? Part 2 | Rooster x Reader

Have you read Part 1 yet? Check out my Masterlist.

Summary: Rooster shoots his shot with you. Will you return fire?

Warnings: some swears, adult banter, allusions to masturbation, getting more into 18+

Length: 2100

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

During his Monday morning run, Bradley's thoughts were consumed by you. Your fairly innocent conversation with him at the Hard Deck had become fodder for the dirtiest parts of his brain. He could picture nothing except droplets of your spilled beer sliding down your smooth calves. 

He ran along the beach trail as the sun rose behind him and shone off the breakers in the ocean. Sweat trickled down his back as he turned toward his temporary housing in the barracks, and he started to think about how sweaty he could make you. 

Very sweaty, he decided. And he would make it his personal mission to do so. 

But Phoenix hadn't been wrong, and that was definitely bothering him a bit. Since when did he focus on one girl for more than a casual night? A weekend, tops?

And he barely knew you, but he definitely wanted to know more. He wanted to know where you were from, because you sounded east coast like him. He wanted to know how long you'd been living in San Diego. He wanted to know if you liked other beers too. He wanted to know your favorite foods, and he wanted to feed them to you. He wanted to know what you looked like pinned up against the wall while he fingered you. 

He couldn't help but grin about the fact that he managed to make it further with you than Hangman had. That was definitely the ego boost he needed to see if he could take this all the way to his bed, maybe even further. And honestly, the fact that you had rejected Hangman without hesitation made you somehow even hotter. 

Unsurprisingly, he had to take matters into his own hands again while he quickly showered in his room in the barracks before reporting to base for work. That marked the third time since the wee hours of Sunday morning that he got off to the idea of licking beer off your legs. 

Once he was finally ready for work, Bradley rushed out to his Bronco and tore out of the lot, anxious to see you in your tight bun and khakis again. A grin spread across his face. Whoever designed that naval uniform certainly did not intend for it to be so sexy.  

As soon as Bradley walked into the preflight room, you were already there, sipping your coffee and typing away on your computer. He walked right past Phoenix and Bob over to your spot at the folding table with the other engineers, as if pulled like a magnet. 

You glanced up when you saw Bradley's boots heading your way. "Good morning, lieutenants," he said in that raspy voice as he addressed you and your coworkers. You couldn't believe he had the audacity to rasp like that. He sounded like he had just rolled out of bed. You squirmed around in your seat a little bit, suddenly very warm and uncomfortable. 

"Morning, Lieutenant Bradshaw," you managed as he smiled right at you. You were vaguely aware that everyone else returned his greeting as well, but he was only looking at you. You felt almost thankful as he turned and took a seat with the other aviators. 

You could hear Phoenix sarcastically tell Bradley, "Oh, good morning, Rooster! It's so nice to be ignored at 8:00 am! Yes, I'm doing just fine today." She rolled her eyes hard as she took the seat next to him. 

"Sorry, but I had more pressing people to greet. Like the one I can't stop thinking about," Bradley replied barely above a whisper, but you could still hear him clearly.

You almost fell out of your seat. Was he talking about you? As soon as you readjusted your chair once again, Bradley turned and smiled at you. Maybe he was talking about you! Maybe all that banter at the Hard Deck got to him as well. It certainly went right to your head, as you'd been continuously thinking about how his mustache would feel if he ever kissed you. All. Over. Your. Body. 

"What is wrong with you?" Lieutenant Maria Wilson hissed next to your ear as Maverick entered the room and started going over the flight plans. "Why can't you sit still?"

"Um," was all you managed to say, but you couldn't take your eyes off Bradley. He was running a hand through his hair and stretching in his seat as he focused his attention on the daily instructions. You really hoped nobody had any questions for you, because you couldn't even remember your own middle name at the moment. 

Maria followed your gaze to Rooster and whispered, "You told me you didn't go home with him!" 

"I didn't!" you insisted through clenched teeth, trying not to draw attention to your table. "You would know if I had, you're my roommate!"

"Well, maybe you should go home with him. First you didn't want the blond one, now tell me what's wrong with this one?" she asked. 

You watched as the aviators stood to head to their aircrafts. Bradley unfolded his large frame gracefully before he bent to pick up his helmet bag. His eyes met yours briefly before he slipped his sunglasses on. 

"Absolutely nothing."

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

Bradley hadn't seen you again the rest of the day on Monday, and Tuesday wasn't looking too promising either. After spending countless hours in the air over both days, he was pretty happy when Maverick called everyone back to the tarmac mid-day on Tuesday. He was sore from sitting in the cockpit and also from doing literally hundreds of push-ups. He was still so mad at Payback and Fanboy for fucking around, he veered off away from them as soon as he could.

After grabbing a tray of food from the cafeteria, he was flagged down by Phoenix while looking for a seat. "I saved you a spot!" she called, and he was delighted to see the empty seat was at the end of the table, directly across from you. 

"Thank you," he mouthed to her as he rounded the table and slid into the empty chair. 

You looked up from your burrito bowl as your new table mate took his seat. The way Phoenix was looking at you felt intentional, and you could feel your cheeks warming up as Bradley took a long drink of his water. He was absolutely massive, tall and broad, but his movements were always smooth and deliberate.

"Hey, haven't seen you all day," Bradley told you as he set his drink down and licked his lips.

Your brain certainly took its time coming up with a response to that. "Yeah... we've been working in the tower since you were all flying today. Heard about some pushups from Phoenix, and it sounds like you took the brunt of it?"

Bradley rolled his shoulders back and grinned. "Sure did, and my body is not amused. Getting too old for this shit."

You tried to push thoughts of the two of you in a steamy shower, your hands all over his neck and shoulder, out of your mind. It was not working.  

"How old are you?" you asked before you could think better of it. You probably shouldn't be engaging in too much personal chit chat with these aviators, Rooster in particular. After this mission was completed, you would move onto helping with another project, wherever your commanding officer saw fit. Wasn't that one of the reasons you shut Hangman down so fast? Because it wasn't part of your professional agenda to form relationships here? I mean, other than the fact that he's cocky and clearly not your type?

"Thirty-five," Bradley responded between bites of his lunch. He took his time chewing while eyeing you up.  "How old are you?"

"Twenty-nine. Which I guess is why we never overlapped at the Naval Academy. I think I would have remembered you," you said, and promptly wanted to shove your foot into your mouth.  

Bradley smirked. "You'd have remembered me, huh?"

"Yes," you responded quickly. "Because Rooster is a ridiculous call sign."

He barked out a laugh and leaned closer to you across the table. "Well I actually did not attend the Naval Academy. I went to the University of Virginia. Though I don't doubt you would have remembered me if we'd gone to school together. I would have been the cute one asking you out."

The nerve he had to say that at the cafeteria table, and in that raspy voice! You felt yourself starting to fidget in your seat again. Nobody else around you two seemed to be paying much attention to your conversation, so you simply said, "What makes you think I would have said yes?"

"I'm almost certain you would have said no. You were undoubtedly out of my league then, and you probably still are." He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest with a small smile. The top of his flight suit was pulled down with the sleeves tied around his waist; his arms were putting on quite a performance in his black tee shirt.

"You're older than I thought you were," you informed him, trying to steer the conversation back to earlier. "I thought you were closer to my age."

"But I can still kick ass at push-ups... among other things."

"Okay, Gramps," you muttered and peered up at him through your eyelashes as you casually doused what was left of your food in hot sauce.

Bradley tried to hide his smile as he took the last bites of his lunch and then cleared his throat. "If you like spicy food, I know a great place up near Del Mar. Right on the beach. Great views."

You just stared at his lips for a few seconds. He was on the verge of a smile, but he was waiting, just waiting to hear what you had to say. And you felt sick because of it. 

"Please, Bradley, don't ask me out," you whispered. "I don't want to have to tell you no."

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

Well, shit. Bradley had decided to shoot his shot with you. And you didn't seem to want any part of it. He wished he could disappear from the cafeteria. 

Plus, you looked so sad, like you might be on the verge of tears. He honestly thought you felt a connection with him. He certainly felt one with you. There was so much chemistry there, he could practically touch it. Fuck, he couldn't get you out of his head, and he didn't want to either. 

You had pulled your lips into a tight line as you stared at his mouth, seemingly begging him to say something.

"No, it's okay, Y/N. I understand. No hard feelings," he told you with a forced smile as he stood with his tray. "See you around." 

"Bradley," you called softly after him, but he didn't turn back. He just made his way to the garbage can, feeling like he would prefer to drop his heart in there along with his trash. 

The truly funny part was, he had told you that you were out of his league. He laughed sardonically, because you must have agreed with him. He was no better than Hangman after all. 

Phoenix ran up to keep pace with Bradley as he headed back out to the tarmac. "Rooster, what happened back there?"

"Nothing," he replied, running a hand over his face before putting on his sunglasses. "Just got shot the hell down is all."

"No! But she likes you!" Phoenix's voice was full of disbelief. 

Bradley shrugged and pulled the sleeves of his flight suit back on. "Well, at least I gave it a shot. But you know what, Nat? I can't remember the last time I wanted to take a girl out this badly. And... you were right. Usually a quick hookup is good enough for me, and even that feels like a chore half the time when they want to sleep over. But she makes me want that shit. I know I would want her to stay. And once would not be enough."

Phoenix just shook her head. "I just don't understand! She looks at you like she can't decide if she wants to kiss your mustache off or throw you down on the ground and climb on top."

After taking a deep breath, Bradley took off at a faster pace. "Fuck it, Nat. It's fine. I'm fine. I need to pull my head out of my ass. I'll see you up there."

All she could do was watch her friend walk to his F/A-18, wishing there was something she could do. She knew she wasn't wrong about you wanting him back. 

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

I wanted to get the second part up quickly, because everyone has been SO kind with reblogging and leaving comments. Thank you so much! Also, I'm hoping all the little details I'm adding about Y/N aren't detracting from anything for you. (Sorry, you like spicy food now).

Enjoy Part 3!

@yaboid19

@swthxrry

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

[bradshawsbaby]

Power’s Out

Pairing: Rooster x Wife!Reader

Author’s Note: Just a sweet little idea that came to me while I was driving, partially inspired by one of Miles’ other films, Two Night Stand.

Warnings: Lots of fluff and allusions to sex (nothing explicit).

Late afternoon was just fading into evening when it happened.

You were sitting on the couch in the living room, quickly folding a bit of laundry while watching a random made-for-TV movie that wasn’t very good. Bradley had gotten home from work not long before and had gone to jump in the shower before the two of you ate dinner. Mav and Penny had been over the night before, and you’d cooked way more than you needed to, so it was going to be leftovers night.

Just as you picked up the remote to change the channel, unimpressed by the cringey movie you’d been attempting to give the benefit of the doubt, the TV screen suddenly faded to black. Frowning slightly, you smacked the remote against the palm of your hand a couple times and pressed a few buttons, but nothing happened. It was then that you realized the light in the kitchen had gone off as well.

Bradley suddenly appeared a moment later, a towel wrapped around his waist as he ran a hand through his wet hair. “The lights in the bathroom just went out,” he told you, glancing around the rest of the apartment. 

You hadn’t yet bothered to turn the lights on in the living room since there was still afternoon light streaming through the windows, but when you stood and tried to flick them on, nothing happened.

“The TV just went out, too,” you said, glancing up at your husband. “And so did the light in the kitchen,” you added with a frown.

“I might just need to flip the breakers,” Bradley replied, squeezing your arm gently as he passed you to examine the breaker box in the hallway of your apartment.

Bradley spent the next several minutes flipping random switches that meant absolutely nothing to you. It was times like these when you were extra grateful for your husband and his fix-it skills. “Anything coming back on, baby?” he called out to you every few seconds as you wandered from room to room, testing light switches and checking for the WiFi symbol on your cell phone.

“Nothing yet,” you called back each time, your frown growing. At least it wasn’t too hot today. You’d be really upset if the air conditioning had gone out.

Suddenly, your cell phone started ringing, the name of your superintendent flashing across the screen. “Mr. Scott’s calling, babe,” you told Bradley before answering the call.

It turned out it wasn’t just your apartment that was experiencing problems. The power was out in the whole building.

“I’m trying to get the electric company over here as soon as possible, but I can’t make any promises,” Mr. Scott explained regretfully. He had always been an incredibly nice man. “The power might not be back up until tomorrow. I’m sorry, Mrs. Bradshaw.”

“It’s okay, don’t worry about us,” you replied, wanting to put him at ease. You knew some of the tenants in the building were much more difficult and would probably give him a hard time, so you didn’t want to add to his worries.

“Let me know if there’s anything you need,” he told you before wishing you a good night and hanging up.

“Looks like the power might not be back on until tomorrow,” you explained to Bradley as he walked up to you and wrapped his arms around your waist. You just laughed as his chest, still wet from his shower, dampened the front of your T-shirt. Running your fingers through his damp hair, you grinned. “Good thing it was just leftovers night. But it looks like we might have to eat them cold.”

“I’ve had worse,” Bradley grinned, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose. “You know what though, babe? I should probably run down and check on the Robertsons first. Make sure they’ve got everything they need before it gets dark, especially if the power won’t be on again until morning,” he said.

George and Sue Robertson were an elderly couple who lived in the apartment right below yours and Bradley’s. They’d been living in the building for the past ten years and had been incredibly kind and welcoming when you and Bradley first moved in. Their children and grandchildren all lived out of state, so you and Bradley tried to help them out whenever you could. You’d often go grocery shopping for them and Bradley helped out with little odd jobs around their apartment.

“That’s a good idea,” you nodded, smiling up at Bradley. Your husband’s thoughtfulness never failed to make your heart melt. “I’ll make a plate with some food for them, just in case. And you might want to put some clothes on first,” you teased, raising an eyebrow at his half-naked form.

“Probably a good idea,” Bradley winked, dropping a kiss on the top of your head before heading off to your bedroom to get dressed.

You had definitely cooked way too much food last night, but at least it was going to good use now. You prepared a full plate with more than enough for both George and Sue, and there was still plenty left for you and Bradley to eat. By the time you were finished wrapping the food up with tin foil, Bradley walked into the kitchen, clad comfortably in a pair of sweatpants and one of his Navy T-shirts.

“Hmm, good thing I know Sue is so in love with George, otherwise I’d be a little concerned about you rushing off to be her hero,” you joked, placing the plate of food in Bradley’s hands.

“Aw, baby, you know I’m your hero and your hero only,” Bradley replied with a chuckle, kissing you for good measure. “But I probably should bring them some batteries and an extra flashlight, just in case,” he added with a smile.

Thankfully, your husband was always prepared in case of emergency. You had a specific drawer in the kitchen that was filled with matches, batteries, and flashlights, all organized so that they were easy to find in situations such as this.

“I’ll be back soon, honey,” Bradley assured you, piling the emergency supplies on top of the food and heading towards the front door.

“I’ll get the candles out,” you told him, grateful you’d just stocked up on candles recently. Bradley always teased you about your candle collection, but they were your weakness. “Tell George and Sue I said hi,” you added, closing the door behind him.

By the time Bradley returned about twenty minutes later, you’d already filled the kitchen and living room with lit candles, the apartment smelling like a mix of tropical breezes, citrus fruits, and freshly cut flowers.

“Remind me never to tease you about your candle obsession again,” Bradley laughed, wrapping his arms around you and kissing you tenderly. “George and Sue said thank you for the food,” he added, nuzzling his nose against yours.

“Are they doing okay?” you asked, a little worried about them. They were getting up there in age and you didn’t want them hurting themselves in the dark.

“They’re okay,” Bradley nodded, immediately assuaging your concerns. “George said they’ll probably just turn in early so they don’t have to worry about moving around once it gets dark out.”

“Good,” you murmured, sighing softly. “Now the question is what are we going to do?”

“I can think of a few things,” Bradley smirked, waggling his eyebrows at you.

“Not that,” you laughed, smacking his arm playfully. “I’m still sore from last night, Lieutenant,” you added teasingly, raising a pointed brow.

Bradley laughed at that, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “We’ll just have to live like the frontiersmen then, talking and reading to each other by candlelight,” he grinned.

“Okay, Pa Ingalls,” you giggled, shaking your head. “Go hang out in the living room and I’ll bring you some food,” you said, opening the refrigerator once more. “It’ll be good to eat as much as we can, otherwise most of it will go bad.”

“You need help?” Bradley asked, watching you reach for the plates.

“No,” you assured him, smiling. “Go relax. I’ll be in in a minute.”

By the time you got to the living room, two plates of food in hand, Bradley was grinning at you with a twinkle in his eye.

“I have an idea,” he said, taking the plates from you and setting them down on the coffee table.

“Oh?” you grinned, curious to hear what it was that had him grinning like a five-year-old.

“When’s the last time you built a fort?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Not in a very long time,” you laughed in response.

So that was how you and Bradley ended up spending the next hour or so designing the most elaborate fort you could create on short notice, in the middle of a power outage. Bradley dragged your dining room chairs into the living room, while you went and procured every pillow, blanket, and sheet you could find in the apartment. The two of you laughed like a couple of children as you put it all together, setting up a cozy little oasis in the middle of your home.

“Oh, I have the perfect finishing touch!” you cried, hurrying back to your bedroom for a moment. In the closet, you still had a couple boxes of the battery-operated fairy lights you’d purchased when you were helping Penny throw an outdoor birthday party for Amelia. Grabbing some batteries from the emergency drawer in the kitchen, you draped them all over the inside of the fort, giving it a warm glow.

“That is perfect indeed, honey,” Bradley grinned proudly as the two of you grabbed your food and crawled inside.

You forgot all about the power outage as you and your husband spent hours of uninterrupted quality time together, swapping silly stories and laughing until your sides ached. At one point, you grabbed all the junk food you could find in the pantry, both of you promising you’d hit the gym tomorrow as you scarfed down Oreos and pretzels and potato chips. You even started a little competition at one point, taking turns tossing pieces of popcorn into each other’s mouths. Bradley finally had to concede that you were much better at catching them than he was.

“I’m so glad you’re my wife, baby,” Bradley whispered to you later that night, resting on his elbow as he gazed down at you, stretched out on your back against the pillows. He reached down with his free hand to gently caress your cheek.

“That’s good, because I’m so glad you’re my husband,” you smiled in return, lifting your head slightly to meet Bradley in a sweet kiss.

Despite your earlier teasing protestations, you and Bradley did make love in your little makeshift fort, his movements gentle and tender as he whispered soft words of devotion in your ear. You could think of nothing more intimate or special.

Later, once you’d blown all the candles out and switched the fairy lights off, you snuggled up against his chest, the both of you content to rest in peaceful silence. You traced the scar on his neck lightly with your fingertips, which he lifted to his lips and pressed soft kisses to.

“Good night, Lieutenant Bradshaw,” you whispered into the darkness, smiling up at him.

You could feel him smiling, even though you couldn’t see him. “Good night, Mrs. Bradshaw,” he replied softly.

When you awoke the next morning, the power was back on in time for you to make breakfast before Bradley had to leave for work. Both of you glanced at the little fort you’d made, sharing affectionate grins.

“Maybe we can leave it up for one more night,” Bradley suggested as he took a bite of his eggs.

“One more night,” you nodded in agreement, laughing as Bradley leaned over to give you a kiss goodbye.

“Looking forward to it, Mrs. Bradshaw,” he said, winking at you on his way out the door.

[ereardon]

Golden Hour || Ch. 5

[Bob Floyd x Bradley Bradshaw x OC]

A Bob Floyd & Bradley Bradshaw AU [Hart of Dixie inspired]

Synopsis: Willow, Georgia. Barely even a town, just a speck on a map that you tried to wipe off, mistaking it for a crumb. You’re the outsider: a fancy New York doctor, fresh out of a failed engagement, with zero primary care experience. You’re also the new town doctor, taking over for a recent retiree who was beloved. His son, Bob Floyd, is the other physician at the practice, and takes an immediate dislike to you. But you were looking for a fresh start, and Willow doesn’t seem all that bad if you can get past the fact that there's only one restaurant in town. It helps that you've caught the eye of Bradley Bradshaw, the town attorney, despite the fact that you vowed to take a break from dating. How long until you start to make friends in a town where social circles have been set in stone since elementary school? And what will it take to make Bob Floyd see you’re not as bad as he wants to believe you are?

Pairing: Bob Floyd x OC; Bradley Bradshaw x OC

Tropes: Love triangle, enemies to lovers

Warnings: Cursing, alcohol, heart attack

Chapter summary: Bob and Olive fight about the partnership agreement for the medical practice; Olive and Bradley attend a Halloween party where one townsperson has a medical emergency

WC: 3K

Masterlist here; previous chapter here; next chapter here

“It’s hot,” you groaned. “Halloween is not supposed to be hot. Halloween is supposed to be leather pants and cocktails and a chilly breeze on a rooftop on the Lower East Side.” 

Phoenix raised an eyebrow. “Leather pants, really?” 

You shrugged. “College.” 

She opened the fridge, pulling out a container of orange juice and sliding you a glass. You held it out as she dribbled the liquid into your glass. “Halloween ‘round here is kids hopped on sugar and parents chasing them dressed as pirates and it’s still shorts season.” 

“Is it too much to ask for one cold day where I can wear sweats and eat cornbread and chili and watch a movie?” 

“Sweats, Doc?” she asked. 

“Cashmere sweats,” you clarified as Phoenix rolled her eyes. “Besides, what do people even do here on Halloween? People over the age of nine that is.” 

“Party at the Flannery House,” she replied. “They throw it every year.” 

“And the Flannerys are?” 

“Charlotte’s parents.” 

“Oh.” You hadn’t run into Charlotte since she walked into Breakers two weeks before, but rumors in town had been swirling about her return. One was that she was here to get Bob back. Another was that she was starting a dance studio in town. You had even heard she was planning to run for Mayor. 

“She’s a pill,” Phoenix said, “but the parties are legendary. You’ll be my date.” 

You laughed. In a matter of only a few months, you and Phoenix had fallen into an easy routine together. The town no longer despised you, and besides Bradley you even had a few regular patients. Bob was still the doctor of choice at the practice, but he had begun to relinquish walk-ins to you when necessary after the flu epidemic. “Is Bradley going?” 

Phoenix crossed her arms over her chest. “Should have known you’d only want to go to see Bradshaw. Yeah, he’s going. Everyone goes.” 

It had been a week and a half since your date with Bradley. He dropped you back at the guest house, the two of you lingering a moment on the sloped porch. “I’d invite you in,” you said softly, “but to be honest it’s a mess. Your house is way cuter, so I’d be embarrassed for you to see what I live like.” 

Bradley laughed, a deep throaty sound. “Next time, Doc.” 

“How about you give me your mother’s name if I need an interior designer?” 

“One date and you already want to meet the parents?” 

You grinned. “You’re cheeky. I like that about you.” 

“There’s a lot to like about you, Doc.” 

How long had it been since you kissed someone who wasn’t Peter? Years. How long had it been since you had done that sober? Even longer. You could feel the heat radiating from Bradley’s body. From several exams before you realized he was faking all illnesses, you knew for a fact that Bradley was well built. Surprising, for a lawyer. But then again, nothing about Willow had turned out like you expected. “Goodnight, Bradley,” you whispered, opening the creaky door. You held your breath. It had been years since you’d gone on a date. You no longer knew the etiquette. 

Bradley leaned in, sliding his lips gently across your cheek. His scent flooded your senses, and you resisted the urge to grab his collar, pull him in, lock your lips to his. But restraint took hold and as he pulled away, you smiled. “Goodnight, Olive.” 

***

“You’re where?” 

Lina’s voice was shrill and filled with shock. In all of the chaos you had neglected to tell your globe trotting best friend that you had packed up and left New York on practically a whim. “Georgia.”

“Like canned peaches, plantations, Coca-Cola, hillbilly truck driver, fried chicken Georgia?” 

You sighed, walking in a tight circle in the living room that doubled as a bedroom in the guest house. “Like small town Americana. It could almost be Lana-core if only it was set in Rhode Island instead of Willow.” 

“Willow?” That was a screech. “Like the fucking grandmother tree in whatever that movie was?” 

“Pocahontas,” you clarified. “And yes.” 

“Did you have a stroke?” 

“Peter left me.” 

“What?” You could hear the gasp through the phone. You could picture her perfectly: jet black hair swishing as she stopped dead from where she was doing the stair stepper in front of her window overlooking Fifth Avenue. “You’re shitting me.” 

“Nope.” 

“The ring?” 

“East River.” 

“Fucking christ, Livvy,” she said. “I’m sorry.” 

“Me, too. To think I wasted all those good years on him.” 

“He has a pig face you know,” she said. “I stuffed that comment down for years but now that we’re over him and he’s dead to us, I can admit it. He has a pig face and a medical degree from California.” The way she said California made you laugh. The utter disgrace of it. “You’re better off.” 

“Thanks, Lee.” 

“So are there men in Willow?”

“A few.” 

“Tell me everything.” You told Lina about Bradley and his dramatic attempts to get you to go on a date, and the reluctant dinner date at his house. She hummed along. “And what about this Dr. Bob?” 

“He’s surly,” you replied instantly. “But there’s something deep down that isn’t so bad,” you added. “I don’t know. He hates me I think.”

“Nobody hates you,” Lina said. “You’re the perfect angel baby.” 

“Peter hates me.” 

“He doesn’t hate you,” she replied. “He just didn’t respect you. And that should be enough to make you hate him. Because any man who can’t respect you doesn’t deserve even an afterthought.” 

“I miss you.” 

“I miss you too, sweetie,” she said. “I would say I’ll visit, but small town charm is good for some and slow painful death for others. I think you know which camp I fall into.” 

“You liked small when it was a village in Tahiti.” 

“I like small when it’s half-naked men carrying me on a daybed and feeding me smoothies,” she clarified. You laughed. “Anyways, I should go, Paolo is going to be here any moment. Love you Liv.” 

“Love you, too.” 

The line clicked and you sighed, tossing the phone onto a pile of silk pillows you had ordered. The room was a disaster, just like you had told Bradley: boxes from Bergdorf’s half opened, a pile of sheets that needed to be washed, your closet spilling out onto the floor in the corner. 

A knock on the door stirred you from your stupor. You frowned, gliding down the hallway and opening the door without looking at who it was. Bob stood wearing a pair of chinos and a short sleeved polo tucked into it. You felt severely underdressed in a pair of satin pajama shorts and a thin tank top that you were almost positive showed your nipples. You crossed your arms over your chest defensively. “Dr. Floyd.” 

“Dr. James,” he replied. “Is now a bad time?” 

“Only if you’re morally opposed to mess,” you said, opening the door wider. “Come in.” 

Bob stepped into the narrow hallway. Under the dim lighting of the broken fixture, he looked pale, a little drawn. He peered around the corner into the living room. “Sorry to impose.” 

“I’m still getting settled,” you admitted, grabbing a cardigan and yanking it on before brushing off a set of towels from the couch. “Have a seat. Want something to drink?” 

“If it’s not a bother.” 

“If you drink wine then it won’t be a bother. If you want water or something archaic then we’re all out.” You grabbed a mug from the cabinet to your right and the bottle of pinot noir you had opened earlier, slopping a few inches into the mug and handing it to Bob. He took it with an unreadable face, crossing one ankle over his knee. “How can I help you?” 

“My father is quite ill,” Bob said and that’s when you realized what was written all over his features but unsaid until that moment. 

Fear. “I’m sorry to hear that.” 

He nodded solemnly. “And as part of his estate, I’m working on finalizing the details for our medical practice.” 

“Ours?” 

“Mine and my father’s,” he corrected. You nodded. “But it’s my understanding that when he offered you the position, it came with a partnership. Is that correct?” 

“Yes.” You had a flashback to the first time you had bumped into Bradley on your first day in Willow. The paperwork that had scattered at your feet, partnership in large block letters across the top. 

“Do you have that in writing?” 

“No.” You took a sip of wine and folded onto the couch seat next to Bob, feet tucked up beneath your butt. “Just a verbal agreement.” 

His lips pursed into a fine line. “That’s what I thought.” 

“What?” you asked, eyebrows knitted together. 

“According to my attorney, that’s not legally binding in the state of Georgia, so I have no requirement to uphold it.” 

“Your attorney?” you asked. “You mean Bradley.” 

“Bradley Bradshaw is my attorney, yes.” 

“Mine, too.” 

Bob frowned. “Not possible. We can’t have the same attorney on a case as plaintiff and defendant.” 

“First off, since when is this a court case? Secondly, you can’t call dibs on the only lawyer in town.” 

“Go to Atlanta or Macon.”

“You go to Atlanta!” 

“Bradshaw has been my lawyer for a decade,” Bob countered. “Besides, he’s handling my father’s estate.” 

“What estate?” you scoffed. “Three pencil erasers and an old Lincoln Continental?” 

“It’s a Subaru Forester.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Seriously, Floyd, are we going to fight over this?” 

“If by this you mean my medical practice, then yes,” he answered. “This is my life’s work, Olive. It’s all I’ve ever known. And it’s mine.” 

“It was promised to me, too.” 

“Why the hell would you want it?” he demanded, eyes blazing. “You’re a New Yorker. You don’t belong here and you never will. Why are you pretending you’re planning to stay?” 

His words cut. The truth was, you had nowhere else to go. Three months ago you hadn’t known Willow existed. Now, it was the only place that knew who you were. The only place that might miss you when you were gone. 

Bob stood up, placing his mug of wine untouched on the table. “This was a mistake,” he said. “Coming here tonight. I should have just done this at the office.” 

You scrambled to your feet, cardigan falling from your fingertips, exposing your sheer top. Bob’s eyes traveled down and his cheeks blushed, hard. You stood your ground. “What can I do to convince you that I’m here for good?” 

“I don’t know, Olive,” Bob said softly, turning toward the door. “All I know is I’m running out of time to figure this out. And I can’t wait around to see if you’re going to hold up your end of the bargain.” 

“I’m not going anywhere.” 

Bob opened the rickety front door and stepped outside, one large hand on the knob to stop it from closing. He turned back, his eyes locked on yours. “We’ll see about that.” 

***

“I look ridiculous.” You tugged on the hem of your white nurses uniform dress. “I can’t believe you convinced me to wear this.” 

“It’s hilarious,” Phoenix said, stepping out of the car in a pair of form fitting jeans. “You’re dressed as a nurse but you’re really a doctor. It’s theatrical.” 

“It’s slutty.” 

“Sorry to admit it, Olive, but your regular outfits aren’t much better.” 

“Hey!” 

She laughed. “Sorry Doc.” 

“How come you get to wear pants?” 

“I’m Beth Dutton,” she said, frowning. “You know, cowgirl shit.”

You shook your head. “I could have worn pants.” 

“Be happy you’re hot,” Phoenix said, linking her arm in yours and tugging you toward the front door. 

The Flannerys house was what you’d expect old Southern money to look like. It was essentially Tara, minus the carrot. Giant white pillars holding up a roof over a wide wraparound porch. Enormous jack-o-lanterns peppered the stairs on either side, faux spider webs hanging from the pillars, lights illuminating all of the windows inside as music pumped through the house. You looked over at Phoenix with wide eyes. “This is a house?” 

“This is Poe’s Run,” she said. “Been in the Flannery family for two hundred and fifty years.” 

“Jesus,” you whispered under your breath. “And Floyd gave up marrying into this because?” 

“For his sanity,” Phoenix said. “Charlotte is a certified psycho.” 

“Oh yeah, that.”  

“Just stick with me and you’ll be good,” Phoenix said as the two of you reached the bottom of the long white staircase. You milled around couples and groups, Phoenix smiling and nodding as you passed. The chill that had accompanied your arrival in Willow was dwindling, and there were even a few nods in your direction, a handful of grins. 

“Doc!” 

“Marvin,” you said with a smile. “How’s the leg?” 

He pulled up the hem of his pants from his pirate’s costume to showcase a five-inch scar. “All better.” 

You bent down, examining it visually. “No swelling or redness. No infection.” You straightened up. “Looking good. You’ll come see me if you see any changes though, right?”

“You got it.” 

A hand skimmed over your low back. You turned, eyes wide. Bradley tipped his cowboy hat. “That’s a mighty short dress you got on, Doc.” You blushed. “Almost saw something only an OBGYN should see when you bent down there.” 

“Oh, Jesus,” you muttered under your breath. Phoenix laughed. 

“I see you’re in good hands,” she replied with a wink. “Going to get myself some of Lacey’s famous punch.” 

“Watch out,” Bradley warned as Phoenix made her way through the crowd, “don’t forget about Halloween 2013!” 

“Shut up!” she cried, disappearing into the crowd. 

“What happened Halloween 2013?” you asked as Bradley led you to the outskirts of the room and plucked a glass of champagne off of a tray. 

“Phoenix got so drunk she ended up serenading Mr. Flannery on top of the grand piano like Marilyn Monroe to JFK.” 

“God, I’d pay money to see that.” 

“Just slip her some vodka and you’ll see it.” 

“Deal.” Bradley’s hand didn’t move from your waist as you looked up at him, sipping your drink. It fizzed on your tongue. “Can I ask you something?” 

“Anything.” He said it in such a sincere way that it made your heart squeeze. 

“Bob came to see me the other day. About the partnership.” 

Bradley’s hand fell from your waist. You watched as his professional persona washed over him, like a transformer, bit by bit until he was in a plastic shell of an attorney. 

“He said the deal I had with Dr. Floyd Sr. isn’t valid.” 

Bradley sighed, setting down his glass onto a nearby table. “That’s correct. In the state of Georgia, verbal contracts are not binding.” 

“Bradley,” you whispered. “I moved here for this job.” 

“I know you did.” 

“What am I supposed to do?” 

He shook his head. “I can’t provide any guidance because I’m not your counsel.” 

You set your champagne glass down, pulling out your purse and yanking a twenty out of it, shoving it into your hand. “There, now you’re my lawyer.” 

“Not that simple, Olive,” he said, pressing it back into your palm. “I’m already retained by the Floyd family. I can’t represent you both.” 

“You’re the only lawyer in this whole fucking town, Bradley!” Your raised voice and the cursing caught the eye of a few nearby people who craned their heads at the commotion. 

“I’ll find you someone,” he promised quietly. “A few of my friends from law school ended up around here. I’ll find you an attorney, I promise.” 

You frowned. “OK.” 

“Let’s leave this for Monday,” he said. “It’s your first Halloween in Willow. Don’t you want to see what all that small town charm is about?” He held out his hand and you took it reluctantly, letting him pull you out into the middle of the room that had turned into a makeshift dance floor. It was easy with Bradley. He folded you against him, one large hand spread across your lower stomach, his other pressed against your hip as you swayed against him, the curve of your ass molded softly to his front. He was tall, so damn tall, and you could feel the heat from every inch of his body. And even though you had resisted his charm for months, the walls were starting to crumble. “Doc,” Bradley whispered in your ear, his fingertips gripping your waist tighter, pressing you against him so close. 

“Hmm?” 

Just as Bradley was about to spin you around, a commotion broke out at the far end of the room. Bob appeared dressed in a flight suit, a look of calm panic on his face. His eyes scanned the crowd before zeroing in on you and he stepped forward, taking in the way you were pressed against Bradley. “Dr. James,” he said and you could hear it in his voice. 

You stepped forward, out of Bradley’s embrace. “What’s going on?” 

“It’s Mr. Flannery,” he said quietly. “He’s having a heart attack.” 

“Fuck,” you whispered, already mentally preparing yourself. 

Bob held out his hand. “This way.” You allowed him to press his hand to your back softly, propelling you forward through the crowd, leaving Bradley in your wake. 

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[crazyk-imagine]

Checking Trick ✔️ or Treat ✔️

Pairing: Tom “Iceman” Kazansky x Pilot!reader

Characters: Pilot!reader, Leonard “Wolfman” Wolfe (Henry “Wolfman” Ruth), Nick “Goose” Bradshaw, Pete “Maverick” Mitchell, Ron “Slider” Kerner, Tom “Iceman” Kazansky

Briefly mentioned: Carole Bradshaw, Bradley Bradshaw

Warnings: Reader and Wolfman being besties, Maverick playing pranks while being a little shit, Goose being the best psychologist, Classic Mave quote for his Goose pal, the terrible trio (Slider, Goose, and Maverick) trying to get Combat and Iceman together, Wolfman being a dramatic bitch, Iceman being a sweetheart and a horny little shit, implied smut but no details

Word Count: 2,046

A/N: Reader’s call sign is Combat

Happy (almost) Halloween!

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

“He’s gonna be there,” your annoying (one and only) friend, Leonard tells you. 

“Thanks, Peaches.” 

He groans, “how many times have I told you not to call me that?” 

“I don’t know. How many times have you not gotten a girl’s number because of that hat?” 

“Woah. Woah. Too far, Combat. Too far.” 

“Whatever.” You start working on your makeup, hoping you can get it right (unlike the past week when you’ve failed every other time). 

“When are you gonna be done and ready?” He whines, his hat resting over his face. “We’re gonna be late.” 

You scoff through your nose, “we’re not gonna be late. Get your shoes off my bed, Dogboy.” 

“Don’t be mean.” 

“Don’t get dirt on my bedspread.” 

“I’m raiding your kitchen.” He stomps out of your room. 

“Have fun! You won’t find anything you want.” 

-

The stairs creak under you as you walk down. 

He puts away the jar or peanut butter and tosses the spoon into the sink (as if you won’t know what he did). “Finally, I was beginning to think-” he cuts himself off at the sight of your costume. “Wow! Please tell me you ain’t looking nice for one of my classmates because, I got to be honest, you look good, too good and I don’t want to be bearing up people all night long. I’ve got people to impress too,” he tugs on the collar of his buttoned-up flannel. 

“I’m sure you’re getting ladies left and right. Oh, that is until they realize that hat never comes off. Talk about a real deal breaker.” 

“Bite me.” 

“Not on this lifetime, Dogboy.” 

“You know what my call sign is. Use it.” 

“How about… no.” 

He groans, shutting the door behind him. 

“You better lock it!” You shout as you get into his car. 

“Give me your keys!” 

You toss him the keys; he almost drops them but is able to make a recovery and clutches onto them before the keys could fall into the bushes. “How are you in Top Gun?” 

“Okay. One, rude and second, Top Gun doesn’t require you to play catch. You know that.” 

“I also know that you’re gonna want to bang everyone at the bar tonight.” 

“This is why we’re such good friends.” 

“We’re friends because your dumbass got burned too many times at that weird club and you looked like you needed someone who needed a friend.” 

“Is that compassion that I hear from the scary, big, bad, Combat.” 

“I’m this close to opening the car door and tumbling onto the road.” 

He pulls to a stop at the red light and looks over at you. “Your fingers are touching!” 

“Exactly!”

- 

You lean your head closer to him, “if you leave me so help me God, Leonard.” 

“I’m not. I’m-” 

You look at him and back to the girl he’s been working up the nerve to talk to for the past few weeks. “No,” you shake your head. 

“I’m leaving you.” 

“You little sh-” 

“It’s not you, it’s me and me needs to talk to a pretty lady to make me feel better.” He practically runs away after that. 

You purse your lips, slightly pissed off at Wolfman but overall impressed with his dramatic skills. You make your way over to the bar, ordering your usual. 

“Well, don’t you clean up nice.” 

You sigh, hoping to whoever is listening that this isn’t some douche, talking to everyone else from Top Gun is enough. You turn, a wide smile dancing across your lips at the sight of your favorite non-official photographer. “What’s up, Nick?” 

He smiles back knowing he did good with his douche voice. “Not much, just came by, drop Mave off, say hi and run home so we can take Brad trick or treating.” 

“You’re such a good work husband to Maverick.” 

He snorts, shaking his head, “why are we using call signs? We all know you don’t use ‘em unless you’re upset, or they’ve done something to piss you off.” 

You don’t answer him and take a sip of your drink. 

“Come on,” he continues. “It couldn’t have been that bad.” 

“It’s bad, alright.” 

He pats your shoulder, “tell psychologist Goose, what happened so I know how bad I need to kick Mave’s ass.” 

You lightly slap your hand against your chest, “aw. Nick, I didn’t realize you cared so much.” 

-

What you hadn’t realized was that a certain follow the rules Naval Aviator watching the two of you talk, a bitter feeling flooding through his veins as you pick at the skirt of your costume. 

He knows he doesn’t have a right to be feeling this way, but he can’t help himself. Ron nudges his shoulder. 

“What?” Tom grumbles. 

“If you’re gonna be pissed off all night I’m ditching you for that one,” he points to a woman dressed like red riding hood. “I know I’ll have a better time with her than I would with you.” 

“If you want to talk to little red then go. I don’t care,” he mumbles before throwing his head back to drink the rest of his drink. 

Ron walks away from his friend, walking over towards the annoying blond one. 

-

You pinch the costume skirt between your fingers, lifting it for him to understand. “This is not what I wanted when I said I wanted something scary.” 

Nick furrows his brows, “you wanted something scary, okay.” 

“You want to know how this princess costume is scary, right?” 

He nods. 

“Maverick told me that me dressing up so nice, like a princess was scary.” 

He bursts out laughing and quickly covers his mouth. He turns resting his forehead on his arms, making a terrible attempt to hide his laughter. 

You shove his shoulder, “don’t laugh you jerk.” 

His head snaps up. “I’m not laughing,” he answers you with the widest smile on his face. 

“You’re an ass.” 

There’s a tap on your left shoulder, you look to see who it is only to find no one. 

You turn back to ask Nick who it was but, he’s disappeared. You scoff, “what an ass.” 

-

Ron continues to haul Nick further away from you and Tom. 

“Okay, okay.” Nick shoves his hand off the back of his neck, “ease up on the grip.” 

“That’s not what I heard.” The RIO furrows his brows, glancing his opposing RIO up and down. “We’re not doing this tonight. Your friend already did is part. It’s time you did yours.” 

The mustached man scoffs, “I’ve been doing more than you have all night.” 

Ron raises a brow, “are we gonna keep doing this or are we gonna get those two to fess up and get together?” 

“Who knew you were such a romantic?” 

“I’ve got Ice, you keep Combat there.” 

He walks away, aiming back towards his friend. 

“You keep Combat there,” Nick mimics with a sarcastic tone. “Who does he think I am? I can keep her there. Oh shit. No, no, no.” He pushes and shoves his way through the crowd. 

-

He slaps his hand down on his buddy’s shoulder. “Mave,” he says through a faux chuckle, leaning his head closer to whisper, “the hell are you doing here?” 

“He came to piss me off,” you snap, ordering another drink. 

“You should go.” 

“I think I’m good.” 

Nick purses his lips, “hey, is that- is that the woman from the coffee shop?” 

Pete’s head snaps up, “What? Where?” 

Ron gestures his head to the side. 

Nick turns to find Leonard waving him over and gives him an okay hand signal. “Over there. Come on, Mave. Let’s go find her.” 

The two disappear from your view. 

“What the actual-” 

“Language, sweetheart.” 

It takes you a few seconds to realize who it is that’s beside you. 

-

Nick and Pete stand in front of Leonard and Ron. 

The duke’s son pouts, “where is she?” 

The other three glances at one another, ignoring his gaze. “Weren’t you here with, Freezie?” 

Ron looks off to the side, pretending to find the lights on the wall more fascinating than this conversation. 

“Wolfman?” 

The man in question turns to his fellow Top Gun classmate. 

“You got any idea what’s going on here?” 

He gives Pete a confused look and sprints away, going back to his lady’s choice of the evening. 

“Talk to me, Goose.” 

“I gotta go. I’m late for trick or treating.” 

“Goose! Hey, Goose!” 

The two exit the bar in a chaotic fashion. 

-

You slowly turn towards him. “Kazanksy.” 

The corner of his lips tugs upwards, he raises his glass in greeting. “Good to see you too… Princess.” 

You thin your lips, “really? Did you have to go there?” 

“I figured it’d be my only opportunity.” 

“You think you’re cute, don’t you?” 

He shrugs. 

“If you must know, Maverick-” 

He chuckles to himself at the call sign, like Nick said, when you’re pissed, you use their call sign, everyone knows it. Everyone. 

“Bought me this damn thing when I specifically asked for something scary.” You let out a quiet huff. 

“If you asked for that, why’d he get you this?” 

You stare at him for a couple of minutes. “He told me dressing up so nice, like a princess, was scary.” 

Tom scoffs, “he says a lot of things, but I wouldn’t listen to him.” 

“You’re just saying that, so I stop pouting.” 

“If anything, it’s to stop talking about Mitchell.” 

Before you can even try to fight it, a smile stretches across your lips. 

“And you think I’m mean when I bash on him.” 

It might be the contents of the drink flooding through your system, but you giggle. 

He takes the opportunity to scoot closer to you; a mere few inches separating the two of you. “There’s that gorgeous smile fit for a princess.” 

“Does that make you, my prince?” 

“I could be, if you let me take you out.” 

“Oh wow.” 

The humor falls from his face. “Is that- should I not have asked?” 

“No,” you shake your head. “I… think I could check my schedule and maybe make some time for you.” 

“Is that how it is?” There’s that charm. 

“Yeah, do you not like it?” 

“Oh, I never said that.” He leans in, whispering in your ear, “how about we ditch this place and you let me take you out tonight?” 

You interlock your arm with is, “a poorly costumed zombie and a princess. Who would have thought?”  

-

You owlishly blink, trying to turn the brightness of your phone down. You quietly groan to yourself. 

Peaches with the Hat 

“How was the date? ;)” 4:51am Sent Read 

Combat Wins 

“Why are you up?” 4:53am Sent Read 

Peaches with the Hat 

“Good Halloween… ” 4:53am Sent Read 

Combat Wins 

“Gross” 4:54am Sent Read 

Combat Wins 

“How do you know about the date?” 4:56am Sent Read 

Peaches with the Hat is typing… 

Peaches with the Hat 

“I’m superrr tired.” 4:59am Sent Read 

An arm pulls you closer to their arm body. He hums against your shoulder. “Who’s that?” 

You pat Tom’s sheet covered thigh, “no one we need to worry about right now.” You glance over at the wall, “not until I see him later today.” 

His breath hits your skin causing you to shiver. “Cold? Need something to warm you up?” 

A smirk tugs at the corner of your lips. “I mean, I am in bed with Ice.” 

A loud, annoyed groan escapes him. 

“Don’t be like that, you know you like it.” 

“I’d like it if we were in a similar situation that we were earlier.” 

You hum, turning around so you can be face-to-face with him. “I bet you would.” 

He lifts you hand up, placing a kiss on your knuckles. “Hop on.” 

You snort, “please tell me you didn’t just say that?” 

“I did and I have no regrets.” He lifts your leg, resting your thigh in your hip. 

“As much as I would love to go again. We need sleep.” 

He maneuvers you onto his lap. “I’m not tired.” 

You place your hands on his chest to balance yourself. “How can you still be so cocky?” 

“I got a date with a princess.” 

“Shut up.” You and he share a laugh before he sits up, pulls you closer, and kisses you like there’s no tomorrow.  

[redfurrycat]

🐓Navy - Not A Pilot!Bradley Bradshaw Fic Recs🐓

Check the Top Gun Masterlist post for the latest updated version. 💕

Ao3 Authors: Barnes_Brain, Dandeliondick, Elliot, Flyingfightingfishy, ForASecondThereWedWon, Haridwar, Jeston17, LetPeteBeMaverick, Renai_chan, SaintClaire, SunMonTue, ToukoJalorda003.

Note. Feel free to drop any recs you may have that fit the recs list.

Any ship (and rating) is welcome! 🥰

Navy - Not A Pilot!Jake Seresin > Not Navy - Still A Flyboy At Heart

Trouble With Comms by ForASecondThereWedWon {E}

WSO / Hangster

Bradley gets himself a gig as Jake’s back-seater. Now that he’s a little more familiar with the circuit breakers, it’s easy to switch off the radio and be the only voice in Jake’s ear.

You Make Me Live by Renai_chan {E}

US Naval Academy > Pilot / Hangster

Once upon a time, Jake met Rooster. Eight years later, he's a freshman at the US Naval Academy, and Bradley Bradshaw comes back into his life. Except, they've both grown up, and with growth, paths diverge.

Handle With Care by Barnes_Brain {E}

Catapult Officer > Pilot / Hangster

Ever since he could remember, Bradley wanted to be a pilot. When he was seventeen his dad, and Ice, pulled his papers from the Naval Academy. When he was barely 22 they did it again and pulled his wings out from underneath him. Stamped with a Do Not Fly he’d been delegated to Catapult Officer. After a particularly long deployment, and a very short fight, Bradley gets his chance at becoming a Naval Aviator as he’s always dreamed of. Once he’s got his wings of gold he meets Jake “Hangman” Seresin, another young pilot. He’s cocky, headstrong, handsome, brash, witty, striking, and most of all oblivious to the fact that Bradley is not flight deck crew anymore, or the son of the Commander of the U.S. Pacific Fleet. So maybe Bradley has the hots for the obnoxious pilot who looks like a Greek god. And maybe he doesn’t want to scare him off. Sue him.

I know exactly who you could be by haridwar {T}

Navy Doctor / Hangster

Bradley works in the Roosevelt's medical centre and gets a front row seat for the joyful experience that is The Mission

our paths will cross again by haridwar {E}

PA / Hangster

An angel worked for the navy and Jake was only half embarrassed to admit that he was obsessed with him. or: Jake keeps running into Iceman's assistant without realising that's who he is

I need attention (and I need it all from you) by haridwar {M}

Warrant Officer / Hangster

“Mom and I agreed I wasn’t gonna enlist Mav.” Bradley had been reluctant to remind him while also trying not to sound too heartbroken. He didn’t want his mother feeling guiltier than she already did when there were more important things to be thinking about. “You promised your mom you wouldn’t fly, that you wouldn’t be a fighter pilot. There’s so much more to the navy than just that kiddo.” or: Bradley is a mini Hondo

My Little Soldier Boy, I'll be True to You... by dandeliondick {E}

WSO / Hangster

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw was one of the best WSO out there and when a back-seater of the dagger squad is injured, he's assigned to fill in. Hangman is confident and cocky and cool, but the team is thrilled to watch as one mustached pilot seems to fluster the blonde at every turn.

Never leaving you again by Elliot {T}

WSO / Hangster

The mission, but Hangman and Rooster are a pilot-wso pair, and also exs. Hangman is the pilot, Rooster is the wso.

Take Me Home Tonight by Jeston17 {E}

Aerospace Engineer / Hangster

“You’re not a pilot, are you?” Jake asks. Bradley shakes his head, “No, I’m actually an aerospace engineer, but I work for the Navy at North Island. It’s how I know Natasha.” “I figured you weren’t a pilot,” Jake says, “I would have met you before, and I don’t think I could forget a face like that.” Jake gives him a suggestive look, and Bradley realizes he’s flirting. His heart jumps at the idea, and he feels the blood rush to his face. “Is it because of the mustache?” Bradley asks, trying to play it cool. “Not just,” Jake winks. Or: AU where Bradley is an aerospace engineer who is getting back into the dating scene after a breakup. He meets Jake at a bar with Phoenix, and the sparks start flying.

Maverick for America by LetPeteBeMaverick

Deputy National Security Advisor / Hangster

Lend me your hand and we'll conquer them all {M}

Pete "Maverick" Mitchell may not have won the Top Gun trophy, but he did win the 2020 Presidential Election. Luckily, his wingman is there to keep his feet on the ground.

Seven Visitor Passes {T}

The seven people who visit Bradley Bradshaw in the hospital.

There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin {E}

Jake first kisses Bradley outside the Hard Deck in 2012, but that's only half the story.

Invitation To The Deep by SaintClaire {E}

Navy SEAL / Hangster

The call comes in at nine o’clock in the evening. He nearly screens it when he picks the phone up - it’s far too late in the evening for whatever bullshit this is. Blocked number. “Seresin speaking.” --- A world-renowned exploratory dive specialist. A mustached Navy SEAL. 80 hours of oxygen on the clock. A single dive submarine wedged between a thousand tons of crumbling volcanic rock. And an underwater labyrinth that Jake Seresin has cut his teeth, his family, and his career on; down amongst the grottos of the deep, glowing with life in pitch-black water.

Flying in Less Than Ideal Circumstances (And the Best Possible Outcomes) by ToukoJalorda003 {M}

WSO / Hangster

All Rooster had ever wanted was to be a WSO. He’d never had any interest in being a pilot - and when he finally got what he wanted, he’d hardly expected to be paired with Hangman, of all people. But perhaps it wasn’t all bad. Maybe. If he would be willing to admit that Hangman wasn’t terrible. That might have been easier to do, though, before everything went just slightly wrong.

sweet relief by haridwar {M}

Aviation technician / Hangster

“We’re not supposed to be strangers, Jake. I can’t keep doing this if that’s how you want things to stay.” or... catching feelings after casual sex

you're all i can think of these days by haridwar {T}

Navy SEAL / Hangster

Jake and Mav's no good very bad week and Bradley's efforts to save them

Somebody to Lean On by flyingfightingfishy {T}

US Naval Academy / Hangster

To say that Bradley's first impression of Jake was poor would be an understatement. He found the man arrogant, annoying, and unable to admit when he was wrong (although he probably shouldn't look too closely in the mirror when he said that). When he hears that Jake got violently airsick, he thinks maybe it will teach the man a lesson. To his surprise, it ends up teaching them both a lesson. OR Overcoming airsickness isn't a destination, it's a journey that's all about the friends (and lovers) we meet along the way.

It's not who you know by SunMonTue {M}

Flight School / Hangster

Low-angst Nepo!Baby Bradley and his four years at the USNA and his head-in-the-sand approach to the nepotism and the fact that he ends up being known as the guy with the two hot dads instead...

[suck4angststory]

One shot: Bradley "Rooster Bradshaw x Fem!Reader

Visiting Hours

Warnings: Major character death, angst!! Angst!! Angst!!!. A few swearing words. English is my second language, feel free to correct my writing in comment section.

Summary: Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw celebrates his anniversary with his wife.

*****

I wish that heaven had visiting hours

Bradley Bradshaw kneel on the grass beside a grave with a white headstone and a gold letter written on it. He places a bouquet of light pink tulips on top of the grave.

Bradley stared at the headstone and let out a deep sigh. He places his hand on the headstone and caresses the name that engraves on it.

(Y/N)

Bradshaw

A wife, A mother, A daughter

Bradley's lips quiver and he begins to cry. He engulfed the stone and cried on top of it. He placed his forehead on the headstone and his crying turned into sobbing. His shoulder shakes with how hard he sobs.

"I miss you" He muttered between his sobs. He lifts his head from the stone and wiped the tears on his cheeks with his sleeve, but the tears still try to spill from his eyes.

He sits on top of the grass and He stared at the grass beneath him. He toying the grass with his fingers. He sniffed and hiccup a few times to contain his crying.

After a while, his tears stopped. His eyes are red and puffy. His nose, cheeks, and ears are red like a tomato.

His mind then travelled to the day when they first met.

It was a busy day in Hard Deck. Penny walked back and forth, up and down behind the counter to serve drinks to customers. Chattering and laughing filled the Hard Deck. There are some reunion and festivity between the Navy soldiers in Hard Deck.

(Y/N) didn't care about how loud people talking in here because she didn't have a choice. (Y/N) worked as a marketing consultant where she spent stared at her laptop or phone to contact her clients. She needs an established internet connection to be always connected with them.

Last night, the wifi breaker at her apartment got struck by lightning. The repairman said it needs a week to fix that thing. So here she is at the Hard Deck. The only place she knows with a good wifi connection. She knows the owner too. Penny Benjamin, Amelia's mother. The little girl she used to babysit before she was away for college.

The papers were scattered around the table. An ice lemonade Penny had served her lost its flavour because all of the ice in it is melting. Her hair is wild with how many times she brushed through them. Her blouse wrinkles and the jeans she's wearing have stained black ink on her right thighs. Her glasses are hanging low in her nose. She has to finished her work this day because the client she handles wants the concept of her project for the new AdSense to finish tomorrow when they just give her a detail about their products last night.

****

Bradley Bradshaw can't stop staring. When he walked into the bar and his eyes wandered around the bar, he spotted this woman sitting alone in the corner with a laptop and paper around her table. He can't take his eyes from her. There's nothing special in her. She wearing a white blouse with a wrinkle on it. Her glasses hanging low in her eyes, she's so deep in her tasks that she didn't get bothered with how loud the bar sounded.

He observed her, when she pushed her glasses slide down to her nose, two minutes later she'll push them back to her eyes. He saw how her lips moved when she read words on the screen. How she let out groans and clicks on the keyboard when there's something wrong with her work. How her eyes squinted when she stared at the screen for too long. How her nose scrunched when she examined the paper in her hand. How her-

"You stared at her too long man" Fanboy clasp his back, startling him from his daydreaming. He turns his gaze back to the beer in front of him and takes a sip.

"I'm not staring at her" he scoffed and place the beer back on the table.

"I'm not staring at her" Payback mocked Bradley's sound. "Yeah, tell that to the hole you just burned in her forehead" Payback sneered at him. People on the table let out laughs too at Payback jokes. Bradley just rolled his eyes at them and sip his beer.

Maverick walked to the table, glass of ale in his hand. He place the glass at the table and looked at his students who laughed at something. Smile formed on his face.

"What so funny? What happened" Maverick ask feeling left out. He took a sip of his ale.

"Rooster just burned that poor girl's forehead," Payback tells Maverick and points his finger to the girl in the corner who's busy typing on her laptop. Maverick follow where Payback just pointed.

"Oh... I know her. That's (Y/N)" Maverick jutted his chin towards the girl and took a sip of his Ale. Bradley shot his head from the beer in his hand toward Maverick.

"You know her?" He asked with excitement in his voice.

"Yeah, she used to babysit Amelia before she was away for college " Maverick nodded towards the girl.

"Oh.." Bradley nodded, a small smile forming on his face. He hides it with a beer bottle on his lips.

"You want me to introduce you to her?" Maverick ask him, saw Bradley hiding his smile. Bradley choked on his beer with Maverick claimed. He coughed a few times and tap his chest. He turned his eyes toward Maverick.

"What! No!" He exclaimed but his voice is louder than he expected. Everyone at the table turns their eyes toward Bradley. Even people in the bar stopped what they were doing and stared at Bradley with how loud his sounds.

Bradley looked around him and clear his throat.

"No! I don't want to" Bradley said it more gentle voice this time.

"Maybe I can help you with that" Penny walked to their table with a tray of food in her hand. She stopped beside Bradley's seat and leaned her body at the table. She placed the tray in front of Bradley. She turns his head to Bradley and has this teasing smile on her face. Bradley lifts his eyebrows at her. Everyone at the table moves their attention to Penny.

Bradley looked at Penny with raised eyebrows.

"What you mean?" He asked her.

"You're not that subtle Bradshaw, I think everyone at the bar knows you've been stared at poor girl when you walked in here" Penny rolled her eyes at Bradley. Everyone at the table agrees with what Penny said. The chorus of 'yeah', 'way to go Bradshaw' and sneered can be heard at this table.

"Besides, I've never seen her eat anything since she came here this morning. So you can deliver this to her" Penny slide the tray to him and jutted her thumbs behind her.

"She's not eaten anything since got here?" A surprised expression forms in him. "She's not even drinking her lemonade" he muttered to himself, but loud enough to hear across the table.

"Wow Rooster never thought you're such a creep" Hangman chimed at the end of the table beside Phoenix. He looked at Rooster with raised eyebrows and a teasing smile on his face.

"Shut up Bagman" Bradley rolled his eyes at him.

"No Penny, I don't want to" Rooster shakes his head and slide the tray back to Penny.

"I'm not asking Bradshaw. I demand" She slides back the tray towards Bradley. Bradley looked at her with wide eyes.

"Penny, no. I'll look ridiculous all of sudden bringing her food" he slides back the tray to Penny.

"Wow, never heard the time when Bradley Bradshaw was afraid to face woman. Where is Rooster who can swoop women in his arm just looking at them? " Phoenix sneered at him. Hide her teasing smile behind her beer bottle.

" I never do that" Rooster scoffed and rolled his eyes at her.

"Yeah, tell that to all of the women's names on your phone. That thing looked like a women's dormitory" Payback chortling at him followed by people on the table.

"C'mon Bradshaw, used your move to her. Show her how the Bradshaw way. Don't make us change your call sign" Penny assured him and slide the tray back to him. Rooster looked at the tray, and Penny raised her eyebrows to him. Penny just gives him a nod of her head toward the girl.

Bradley let out a defeated sigh and stand up, he took the tray in front of him and begin to walk towards (Y/N). His table soon begins to cheer at him following with people at the bar.

****

(Y/N) busy typing on her laptop, she stopped typing when she feel someone standing at her table. She lift his head from her laptop to someone who stands in front of her table with a tray in his hand. He looked at her stunned, mouth agape with wide eyes

"Can I help you?" She asked softly at him. Bradley heard her voice snap from his staring.

"Uh... Yeah... Th..this is your food" He stuttered and place the tray on her table, carefully not to squeeze the paper on the table. Bradley then turns around and walks away. but before he walked any further, she called him. Bradley froze.

"Hey!" She shouts at him. Bradley turn around and looked at her.

"I'm not ordering any burger," She pointed to the tray.

"It-it's on the house. A.. Uh... From Penny. She said you've never eaten anything this day" He cursed himself for how ridiculous he sounded.

(Y/N) looked around and saw Penny sit with Maverick at the table full of a naval aviators. When she looked at the table, the pilots on the table is looking at them. But soon as she saw them, they turn their gaze from her and Bradley. She smiled and turned her head toward Bradley again.

"Well, can you give my thanks for her?" She nodded her head toward Penny in his table. Bradley turn around and saw his friends give him a thumbs up. Bradley just rolled his eyes at them and flipped them off behind his back.

He shifts his gaze to (Y/N) and looked at the floor. His cheeks are reds when she looked at him.

"Uh... Yeah, I can do that.." He muttered. He looked at her sheepishly.

"Perfect." She smiled. There's silence in them, Bradley standing in the middle of the bar looking at her. When he begins to walk away. She called again.

"Uh... I didn't catch your name?" She asked him. A nervous is evident in her voice.

"It...It's Bradley. Bradley Bradshaw" He still standing in the middle of the bar.

(Y/N) nodded her head at Bradley answer

"Well, thank you Bradley Bradshaw for bringing me the food" She pointed to the food and give him a side smile.

"No problems Ma'am" He smile at her and walked away. When he turn around, his friends looked at him with teasing smile. When he arrived at the table, they begin to laugh at him.

"Ah uh that this is your food." Payback mocked how Rooster sound.

"What the hell was that Bradshaw" Hangman stunned at Rooster stuttering back there.

"Wow, never heard of this day when Rooster Bradshaw got his feet swamped by some random girl" Phoenix exclaimed and sips her beer. People at the table then laugh at Rooster. Rooster looked at them with stink eyes and annoyed looked.

Penny smiled and shakes her head at Bradley.

"Yeah, you really looked ridiculous" She gives Bradley pats on his shoulder and walked away from them.

(Y/N) just smile looked at what she just saw. Her smile widen when saw how Bradley got teased by his friends and annoyed look on his face. She smiled with shakes of her head, she then back towards her works.

A few hours later. (Y/N) work is done. She collects her stuff and stuffs them in her backpack. She smooths the wrinkle on her blouse and fixes her hair and walked toward Penny. She make a detour toward Bradley table and give him smile. Bradley gives her a smile back with nods of his head.

Bradley saw her walked toward Penny at the counter, they exchange goodbye and hugs. He saw (Y/N) turn her head toward him again and give him a smile and wave of her hand before she disappeared behind the exit door.

***

It was closing time at the Hard Deck. Rooster and Maverick helped Penny put the chair on top of the table.

Bradley finished putting the chair on top the table. He then called out goodbye to Penny that still cleaning the counter and Maverick that still putting some chair on top of the table. Before he walked any further toward the exit door, Penny shout his name.

"Bradshaw, wait up" Bradley stop on his track and turn to Penny. He saw Penny turn around and picked something behind the counter. Penny then places something on top of the counter.

"For you" Bradley raised his eyebrows at her and walked to the counter. He saw a piece of paper that folded nicely. He turns his eyes to Penny for an answer what is that. Penny just smiled and shrugged her shoulder at him.

'Thanks for the Burger :)' (Y/N)

A phone number is written below it.

A smile broke on Bradley's face, he looked at Penny. Penny give her a wide smile and nod her head to him for confirmation that what he see is true. Bradley then rushed toward Penny and hugs her. Penny hug him back and give his arm a squeeze. She muttered good luck to him.

"Thank you, Pen" Bradley muttered to her.

Bradley then turn to Maverick who still putting the last chair on top of the table. Bradley hug him, Maverick confused at the sudden action of Bradley but just hug him back.

Bradley then bid his goodbye and walked to his car. A smile never left his face.

He sniffed a few times and a smile broke on his lips remembering that day.

So I could just show up and bring the news

That she's gettin' older and I wish that you'd met her

"You know, Nicole is five now. And she started kindergarten last week." His voice cracking.

Bradley clears his throat. He looked around him and shift his eye back to the grave in front of him. He brought his knees up to his chest. He circled his calf with his arms.

"Gosh, she looked like a spitting image of you. The hair, the nose, the lips. And her eyes, they look exactly like you. The way she stared at me. And her voices. God, she sounds so much like you but cuter though" he chuckled at himself. He digs into his jeans pocket for his phone. He opens the phone. When he opened it, a picture of his daughter, Nicole, appeared. Nicole wearing a pink dress, with glasses. A pink unicorn backpack was planted on her back. Nicole smiles so wide that the gap where her missing tooth is evident in the photo.

Bradley stared at Nicole's picture on his phone.

"She insisted on wearing glasses like you because she really adored you. She always looked at your photos or make me telling story about you before she sleep. She just lost her wisdom tooth three days before her school started, you know" Bradley lift his head to look at the grave. A lone tear escaped his eyes. He wiped it with the back of his hand. He places the phone on top of the grave. He put it in a standing position and rest it on the headstone. His body shook and a cry erupted on his lips. His tears fell to the grass beneath him.

"I miss you. I really miss you" he muttered and choked a sob.

The things that she'll learn from me, I got them all from you

Can I just stay a while and we'll put all the world to rights?

The little ones will grow and I'll still drink your favourite wine

And soon, they're going to close, but I'll see you another day

So much has changed since you've been away.

"Aw, Bradley it's hurt" Amelia exclaimed when Bradley tugged her hair hard enough. She sat on the floor while Bradley sat on the couch behind her. A hairbrush and hair tie sat beside him. Toy Story movie playing on the TV in front of them.

"Sorry, I've never braided human hair before" he emphasised the word "Human" and loosened Amelia's hair.

"Maverick said, you know how to braided hair" She exclaimed to him.

"Yeah, once in this Daddy class thing" He brushed Amelia's hair with the hairbrush. "And it's not in person. It was in a mannequin" He looked at Amelia from her shoulder.

"And why'd you don't say that at first" She exclaimed to him and roller her eyes.

" because I thought you're not this loud when I touch your hair" He retorted to her.

"You're not touched my hair Bradley, you tugged at them" Amelia rolled her eyes at him. Bradley then tugged her hair playfully.

"Ow" Amelia yelps

"It's not that hurt" he sneered at her.

Before Amelia can retort back, (Y/N) walked in with her hand cradling her baby bumps.

"Bradley, Amelia. What're you doing?" She asked them. She walked towards a single coach beside them, Bradley then stand up to help her sit down. Amelia scooted over a bit so Bradley doesn't step on her.

Bradley then stood beside (Y/N) and stick out his hand to (Y/N). She accepted it with a smile. She placed her hand on his arm and used it as an aid for sitting down.

She's six months pregnant now but she feels like she'll pop out anytime soon.

"Thank you" she smiled and kiss her husband on the cheek. Bradley blushed and smile sheepishly at her. He then goes back to where he sits down before.

"Amelia, come here. Let me braid your hair" (Y/N) pats her chair to Amelia. Amelia then scoots over to (Y/N).

"Finally, someone can really BRAIDED hair" she gives Bradley side eyes. Bradley just stuck his tongue out to her which Amelia retorted the same.

Amelia is with the Bradshaw's tonight because Maverick and Penny have a date night. (Y/N) gladly offered herself to babysit Amelia. But her husband, Bradley Bradshaw, not pleased with her decision. Bradley wants to spend his time with his wife and his baby. Not babysitting Amelia.

Amelia stands up and sits in front of (Y/N). She brushes Amelia's hair with her hand. Bradley then gives her a hairbrush and hair tie. (Y/N) then brushes Amelia's with the hairbrush and begins to braid her hair.

"(Y/N) when the baby's coming, can I braid her hair?" Amelia asked (Y/N). (Y/N) stopped braiding her hair and looked at her from Amelia's shoulder.

"Of course sweetheart. But can you braid a hair?" She asked Amelia and continue to braid her hair.

"I can learn it from you" Amelia shrug her shoulder. She didn't leave her gaze from the movie.

"Of course sweety, you can braid her hair" (Y/N) stated

Bradley who heard his wife allowed Amelia to braid their daughter's hair, turn his head to them. He removed his chin from his fist that rested on his thigh.

"No, you're not. I'll braid her hair myself" he exclaimed to Amelia

"Oh please, you can't t even braid my hair. You're just gonna hurt her head" Amelia scoffed and rolled her eyes at him.

"I can learn it from my wife" he responded.

"Nope if I learn it first" Amelia stuck her tongue to him. "And (Y/N) trusted me more with girl stuff"

"She's my wife and the baby is my child too. Of course, she's gonna trust me more even with girl stuff" he retorted back to her.

(Y/N) just giggle at their quarrel.

"Okay, enough you two" they stopped bickering immediately, that's how whipped they are with (Y/N), even Maverick impressive at how she can manage to calm Amelia dan Bradley at the same time.

Bradley and Amelia give each other side eyes

(Y/N) tie Amelia's hair and brought the braided hair to her shoulder.

"Okay, your hair is done Amelia" (Y/N) patted her shoulder.

Amelia turned to Bradley and stuck her tongue at him which Bradley retorted back by flipping her bird. (Y/N) stared at him with wide eyes.

"Rooster!" She exclaimed and slap his arm. Bradley let out a hiss and muttered sorry to her.

Bradley smiled at the memories of her wife. He brought his hand toward the headstone and caressed the stone.

"You know, Maverick and Penny got married last month. That old man finally got the balls to ask her. You remember We always tease him about when he'll gonna pop the question." He sniffed a few times

"Nicole was really happy when she became the flower girl. I have a bunch of photos of her at the wedding" He used his free hand to pats the grave.

I wish that heaven had visiting hours

So I could just swing by and ask your advice

What would you do in my situation?

I haven't a clue how I'd even raise them

What would you do? 'Cause you always do what's right

"You know, Amelia wants to join the navy. But Penny didn't give her approval. She tries to ask me and Maverick, but the way Penny looks at us is terrifying. She then escapes after she and Penny have a big argument. We freak out and looked for her everywhere. And I remember you telling me about how you and Amelia like to climb the cliff at the side of the beach to stargaze. There's where we found her, she's hiding in the tree house you two used to hide when rained over there" he looked around, his eyes spotted a few mourners at this cemetery. Bradley sat closer to the grave and rests his back on the headstone.

He raised his knees to his chest and closed his eyes for a moment. He lifts the grass beneath him and begins to fiddle with them.

"If you're here, you know how to talk to that kid. She always says yes and obeys you. You always know how to talk to her. Even Maverick amaze by how Amelia got whipped by you." He chuckle to himself

"I wish Nicole wants to be like you when she's older. I mean if she wants to join the navy and continue the family legacy, I'm fine with it. But, I think I can't bear with it when she's leaving me for long moments" he said softly with chuckle.

Can we just talk a while until my worries disappear?

"I have a mission next week. All the Squad got called back. And This is my last mission before I became Top Gun Instructor" He uttered

"Yeah, I am soon to be a Top Gun instructor. You heard that right. They finally accept my retirement and make me a Top Gun Instructor. A soon-to-be Top Gun Instructor." He said it with a hint of teasing in his voices.

"They want me to lead this mission before my retirement. The mission is different from what we've been through before." He paused at mid sentence and let out a deep sigh.

"I'm scared what if this mission goes south. What if I'm not comeback. I'm not ready to leave her alone. She's too young, honey." He turns to the grave beside him and caresses the grass on top of it. He stared at the grave for a moment. He then turns his head back, still caressing the grass on top of the grave.

He strokes the grass like it was her instead of the cold grass. It was her warm skin when she lay down on his lap and he rubs her arm up and down.

"I know, you, my mom, and my dad will always have my back right?" He turn his head to the grave for a moment.

"When I was in the sky, I feel you there. I feel you closer when I'm up there. And one day I'll take Nicole to the plane with me so she can feel you too" he smiled and tears escaped his eyes.

I'd tell you that I'm scared of turnin' out a failure

You'd say, "Remember that the answer's in the love that we create"

So much has changed since you've been away

"You remember when I told you I'll never be good enough to be a father to her?" He asked himself

(Y/N) and Bradley lay in their shared bed. (Y/N) lay on her back and Bradley on top of her. He placed his head on her baby bump, his hand on side of her hips. (Y/N) brushes her hand through Bradley's hair and Bradley let out groaned almost like a purred.

"Oh this is nice" He muttered. (Y/N) chuckle at her husband. Her bump jerked underneath him. They lay on each other arms in silence. After a few moments, Bradley breaks the silence.

"You think I'll be a good father for Nicole" He muttered to her. (Y/N) shot him looked. She popped herself up and stared at him.

"What're you talking about?" She asked him with raised eyebrows.

"It just, I've never had enough memories of my dad. I live with my mom until she dies. And there's Maverick who never had a child of his own and he's a man whore" he finished it with shrugged off his shoulder.

"Don't talk a bad word in front of her." She slap Bradley arms

"She can hear you, you know." Bradley then kiss her bump

"I'm sorry Princess, you don't have to know that word soon" He muttered to her bump and left a few kisses on top of it.

"Beside, Maverick Was that kind of man" she told him softly and emphasised the word Was. Bradley ignored her and keep kissing her bump.

"Bradley comes here" she motioned her hand to make him move closer. Bradley looked from her bump with raised eyebrows.

She motioned her hand again. Bradley then shifts to move closer to her. He then rests his chin on her chest. She placed both her hands on Bradley's cheeks and caressed them. She stared deeply at him.

"Never doubt yourself okay. You're the father that kids out there adore and wished for. Do you remember when you have to visit an elementary school?" She asked him softly.

Bradley nodded his head in her grab.

"You said it yourself, the children really adore you and want to be you. Some of them even wish you were their dads" her thumb rubs his jaws back and forth.

"And you're the best father Nicole will have. You willingly drove two hours, at three in the morning to find your child weird cravings" Bradley chuckled at her statement.

"You even have time to join the prenatal care for men, parenting class, gosh you even join that weird dad-to-be class on the internet. And you're a military man, a naval aviator, a pilot. Who the heck can do that except the Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw" she said it with pride. She smiled lovingly at him.

"she's not even born yet, but you've already given her your world. If maybe I go first leaving the two of you, I think Nicole is in safe hands" she said softly to him and traces her finger on his brow and forehead, and finishes it with a bop on his nose.

"Don't say that" he whined at her and buried his face in the crooked of her neck. His hand never leaving her bump

"It's just a metaphor, honey" she rolled her eyes at him and caress his hair up and down.

"But I don't like the sound of it" his voice is muffled in her neck. (Y/N) let out a laugh.

"Okay, I'm sorry. I love you" she kissed the side of his head.

"I love you too" Bradley kiss her neck softly and caress his hand up and down on her bump. He feels something kicked in his hand. Bradley lifts his head from her neck and stared at her with excitement.

"Did she just kick?" He asked her.

"Mhmm..." She gives him a side small and nods. Bradley then lowered his body so his face faced her bump. He kisses her navel and Bradley begins talking with her bump.

I wish that heaven had visiting hours

And I would ask them if I could take you home

But I know what they'd say, that it's for the best

So I will live life the way you taught me, and make it on my own

His mind begins to drift when they have to apart without telling goodbye to each other.

A loud cry erupted in the room. Bradley sat beside (Y/N) who still giving birth to baby Nicole. She cries and tries to push the baby but she wouldn't come out.

Bradley's hand now is red with how tight she gripped it. She was ready to give birth six hours ago but the baby won't come out. She shouts and pushes as the doctor tells her but nothing seems to trigger the baby to come out.

A few minutes ago the doctor said her head is crowning. Bradley stared at (Y/N) with glossy eyes. (Y/N) face paled, cold sweats dripping from her body, her hair damp from her sweats.

Bradley kisses her forehead and temple. He gives her reassurance word and told her, she can do it and she'll become a baby mama soon.

"Okay, now. One big push and she'll come" The doctor gives (Y/N) a nod and told her to push as hard as she can. (Y/N) push as hard as she can, she then feels something come out of her.

A loud cry erupted in the room. The doctor examined the baby and places the baby on her bare stomach.

Bradley looked at his daughter and cry erupted from him. He touched his daughter's bloody head and caress her head. The baby let out fuss.

"Isn't she beautiful honey?" Bradley asked (Y/N) who breathing heavily. With lidded eyes, she give him a weak nod.

"Yeah, she's beautiful" she lifts her shaky hand to touch her daughter's cheeks. She caresses it a few times.

"Is the daddy one to cut the umbilical cord?" The nurse asks Bradley who's still amazed to see her daughter. Bradley shift his gaze to the nurse and nodded.

"Yeah" he then stand up and take the scissor that the nurse offered him. He cut the umbilical cord. After he cut it, the nurse take his daughter from (Y/N) stomach to get her cleaned.

Bradley then back to (Y/N) who still breathing heavily and sweat still dripping from her. Bradley touches her forehead but retreats his hand with how hot her forehead is.

"Doc, is it normal she's have a hot temperature like this?" Bradley asked the doctor who still cleaned the blood from her wife. The doctor shot his head at Bradley.

"What?" He furrows his eyebrows but called the nurse to check on her temperature.

(Y/N) the body begins to convulsion and the ECG beeps loudly. The nurses came rushing to her side and make Bradley steps back a few feet away.

Bradley saw the nurses begin to inject her wife and the doctor examined her. They begin to change conversation that Bradley didn't know about. He so confused and scared about his wife but no one told him what was happening.

"What the fuck is fucking happened to my wife?! Someone fucking talk to me?!" He shout to them. One of the nurses asks her to step aside and wait outside.

"Sir, please. We need a room" she pleased at him.

"What the fuck is fucking happening," he asked her. Scared dripped from his words.

"We still examined her. You should wait outside, sir" she pushes Bradley toward the door.

"You better save her. You heard me, save her" he placed his hand in the nurse's arms.

"We'll try our best sir" she patted his arm and push him outside. When Bradley was outside, she closed the door in front of him.

Bradley was still attached to the blue scrub he was wearing earlier. He gripped his head tightly and slides his body to the wall beside the door. He begins to cry and his cry turns into a sob. He pulls out his dad's dog tags and holds them tightly in his fist. He brought his fist to his mouth and kiss it.

"Dad please, save her. Save her. I can't imagine life without her. Please, dad, I know you saw me in here. Mom, you always have my back. I can't lose her mom, she's the love of my life" his voice harsh. He stared at the ceiling and muttered his words.

A few hours later, the doctor come out. A solemn look on his face. He kneels in front of Bradley and placed his hand on Bradley's shoulders.

Tears in Bradley's face poured more down. The doctor looked down for a few seconds and stared at him.

"I'm a sorry kid" He shakes his head. Bradley begin to sob and muttered no and you're kidding. Bradley cries out and sobs more loudly.

The doctor try to calm him down but nothing seems to work. So he leave him to sobbing. after a few minutes Bradley calm down but his tears still streaming down from his eyes.

The doctor then tells what conditions she got that make (Y/N) can't survive. Bradley stared at him with a stern look. When the doctor finished explaining to him, Bradley don't give him any response. The doctor sigh and patted Bradley's shoulders. He then stand up and leaved Bradley alone.

A few minutes later, Maverick came rushing to the hospital with Penny and Amelia hot on his trails. He saw Bradley sitting at the wall beside a closed door. Maverick saw Bradley state, face red, tears still streaming down his face, eyes red and puffy. All of them confirmed Maverick assumption. He came rushing to Bradley and hug him.

Bradley breaks down on Maverick shoulders. Maverick hold him tight and Bradley holds Maverick like his life depends on it. Bradley sobbed more loudly on Maverick shoulder.

"She's gone Mav. She's gone. She left me first. She leaving me and Nicole. She's leaving us" Bradley muttered to Maverick. Maverick just hold him with tears fallen down his eyes.

Penny that heard this, brought her hand to her mouth. Tears escaped from her eyes. Amelia then sobbed on her chest and hugged mother tightly. Penny hugged Amelia with one arm and she stared at Maverick that hold a sobbing Bradley.

Tears streamed down his face again when he remembered the day when she was gone. The day, she left them. A cry erupted in his throat but he try to hold it.

His phone in his pocket begins to vibrate. He took it and click the green button to answer it.

"Yeah Mav.." His voice cracked.

"What happened?" He lifts his head from the headstone. He waited for Maverick to elaborate to him.

"Okay, I'm on my way home" He locks his phone and stuffs it in his jeans pocket. He then stands up.

"Hey, I have to go now. But I'll visit you again before I'm taking off for the mission." He bends down to pet the headstone

"Happy Anniversary my darling" he gives a kiss to the stone. He then stands upright.

"Until we meet again my love" he spoke softly. Bradley pulls out his aviator from his shirt collar and places it on his face. He stared for a moment at his wife's grave and let out a sigh. He then begins to walk away with his hand stuffed in his jeans pocket.

And I will close the door, but I will open up my heart

And everyone I love will know exactly who you are

'Cause this is not goodbye, it is just 'til we meet again

So much has changed since you've been away

[foli-vora]

deck the halls with hundreds of fictional cocks, fa la la la la, la la la la—

It’s my favourite time of year!

Here are my holiday fics for this december - all of which have been completed/mostly completed and scheduled for the noted dates. They're packed with the fluffiest of fluff and spiciest of smut and are made to provide cosy comfort and warmth - no angst will be found here!

These are the 'main' ones, but I'll probably get drunk off of holiday spirit so there'll most likely be extra drabbles that I'll throw out whenever and add on as I go. Fics will be tagged #folijollyxmas if you wanted to follow along!

↳ my only wish

jack daniels x singlemumf!reader. rating: explicit 18+ ONLY.

typical hallmark movie. he’s never been one for christmas - he hates the tacky decorations and the ear drilling music, but maybe the owner of a small town bakery and her children will change that.

- part one

- part two

- part four : coming soon

↳ meet the yorks

dave york x f!reader. rating: explicit 18+ ONLY.

just a filthy soft as fuck christmas fic in the york house.

↳ under the tree

bradley “rooster” bradshaw x f!reader. rating: explicit 18+ ONLY.

santa came early for bradley and he’s positive you’re trying to kill him. too bad mav also decided to arrive earlier than planned. awkward chaos ensues.

coming soon

↳ tinsel tangle

matt murdock x f!reader x frank castle. rating: explicit 18+ ONLY.

christmas decorating and baking and gift wrapping and porn. it's just porn idk.

coming soon

↳ curse breaker

marcus pike x f!reader. rating: explicit 18+ ONLY.

after an embarrassing confession to the pretty stranger at the bar, you find that maybe this is the year you break your apparent 'curse'.

31/12/22

[spinningwebsandtales]

Imagine Rooster Singing Sweet Child O’ Mine

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw X FemReader

Rating: G

Warnings: None just all da fluff!

Word Count: 594

Taglist: @mads-weasley @the-marshals-wife @hotch-meeeeeuppppp​ 

(A/N:) I’ve been a big GNR fan for years now and I’m on a kick right now. I’ve been listening to them a lot while I paint and I got the idea of Rooster singing Sweet Child O’ Mine to the reader throughout their relationship and then reader gets up to check on their daughter to find Rooster is already comforting her and he’s singing the song to their daughter. So yeah I had to write it cause I need it and I’m sure someone else needs it to! I may do other Top Gun guys with different GNR songs too, we’ll see what happens! Until next time happy reading! ~Countess

The first time Rooster sang Sweet Child O’ Mine to you was on your first date. The song came over the radio in his Bronco and he belted out the lyrics as loud as he could. From that moment forward he sang it to you almost every time he saw you. It was the perfect ice breaker when you were both fighting and helped bring a smile on your face when everything seemed to be going wrong. Now as you both were married and he was away for months at a time you always knew when he was home when the door came open with the lyrics already melting into the calming atmosphere.

 Your favorite was when he would surprise you while you were cooking then proceed to serenade you with a full concert complete with his best impression of Axl Rose’s snake dance. It didn’t matter if you needed to continue cooking Rooster would bring you into his embrace and dance across the kitchen with you without missing a single lyric.

Now that your daughter was born Rooster added one more member to the special tradition. You were still recovering from the birth so that meant Rooster was super protective now over both you and the sweet bundle of joy. You woke to the sound of your baby crying from the monitor by the bedside. Checking the time it was late in the night but you couldn’t just lay there and let her cry. That’s when you noticed Rooster’s side was empty. You knew he was handling whatever was wrong, but your curiosity was too much to bear. Carefully getting out of bed you snuck to the nursery to see the lamp by the crib was on. Rooster had Carole in his arms humming quietly before singing Sweet Child O’ Mine in a low voice.

“She’s got a smile that it seems to me,” he started rocking back and forth starting to sing a little louder while Carole cooed. You sung too in the doorway quieter than Rooster. You’d let him know you were there but you wanted to enjoy the show a little bit longer. Though you almost burst out laughing when his rocking back and forth turned into a small slither of the famous snake dance.

“Whoa, oh oh. Sweet child o mine,” Rooster kissed her forehead and that’s when you came up behind him. Touching him softly on his side you joined in.

“Whoa, oh, oh,” you both harmonized. “Sweet love of mine.”

A few more verses and Carole was back to sleep. Rooster laid her back into the crib and turned out the lamp. Guided by the little night light by the nursery door you both snuck back into the bedroom. Back in bed Rooster held you tight to him.

“She’s the only one I would share my song with,” you spoke tracing Rooster’s mustache with a finger.

He kissed the intruding digit while stroking your back. “You two are the only ones I would ever sing it to.”

“Good,” you hummed making him chuckle. Silence stretched between you two as you just basked in each other. “Hey babe?”

“Yeah,” Rooster yawned.

“Axl Rose ain’t got nothing on you,” you teased.

Rooster snorted, “Think I could pull off the long hair and bandana?”

“Totally. But you have to keep the mustache.”

“As you wish.”

After a little more light teasing you both fell asleep ready to see what else life could bring. But no matter what happens you both always had that one song that would make everything right.

[footprintsinthesxnd]

Love Through the Pages | Chapter 6

Masterlist

Synopsis: Bob Floyd isn’t the man you typically find in a love story. His awkward mannerism and unusual ways don’t make him the typical heart throb, but Bob certainly has his charms. He finds love in an unexpected place when he finds a hidden message in a book that changes his life for ever. He meets the girl of his dreams but true love is not always an easy road and can they survive the ups and downs that life throws at them.

Warnings: 18+, potential slow burn, mentions of injuries and hospitals, language, smut, 18+, swearing. Nothing too specific for this chapter.

Dear Bookshop Girl,

It sounded like a very fitting name for you and I’m not sure who else to address this to. First of all I’d like to say thank you for the book. I found it uplifting, although I don’t know whether I’d have been as brave as the Pevensie children. I’d also like to praise you on your ingenious code, it had me stumped for nights and I was losing sleep over it. Somehow cracking it was all I could think of. I’d like to learn more about you. What do you like and dislike? Your favorite food? What job do you have? I have so many things I want to ask you, to get to know the real you. I thought I’d share a little something about myself. My name is Bob. Well my full name is Robert, but only my Gran calls me that, so I feel like it’s weird for anyone else to call me Robert. What’s your name? I want to get to know you more, Bookshop Girl. Yours sincerely Your Code Breaker

You smiled down at the crumpled letter in your hand. You’d read it over and over, feeling the words seeping into your soul like the ink on the page. Bob’s words swam through your mind at every waking moment and accompany your dreams. You’d been trying to write a reply, you wanted to tell him everything, how much you desperately wanted to meet him, but that would have ruined the mystery of it all. So far all you had was ‘Dear Bob’, but that didn’t make for much of a letter. You sighed, placing the letter down on the table.

“Still no luck?” Bradley asked, looking up from his laptop.

“No,” you groaned, placing your head against the table.

“Well, good job you’ve got me here,” Bradley turned the computer screen towards you smiling. “It’s only a draft so you can add and change what you like, but I thought it was a start.”

Your face broke into a wide grin and you pulled your friend in for a hug.

“Thank you, Bradshaw.”

“Anytime, Love.” You and Bradley continued to work on the letter for the rest of the afternoon. You wanted it to be perfect. It seemed strange to think that you had never met this man and yet you wanted to pour your heart and soul into a letter for him. You managed to restrain yourself, keeping things simple. Bradley headed home shortly after and you continued to work on your letter to Bob. The more you wrote about yourself the more you felt connected to him.

Dear Bob,

It was so lovely to receive your reply the other day. I had almost lost hope that you wouldn’t write back. My name is y/n and I’m an ER nurse. I wanted to be a nurse since I was very young as my brother spent a lot of time at the hospital. Considering we met because of a book you can probably tell that I enjoy reading. Narnia has been one of my favourite books since I was a child, so I’m really glad you enjoyed it. I’d love to learn more about you Bob. Tell me what makes you an individual, Bob. I look forward to hearing from you soon. Yours Sincerely Bookshop Girl

Elated that you’d finished your letter, you sealed it neatly and planted a small kiss on the envelope, leaving a lipstick mark. You placed the letter carefully into your bag.

—————————————————————————-As the weeks went by the letters came and went. You learnt that Bob was a personal assistant to some high up boss of a newspaper company. You learnt about his parents and his sister and you loved the stories of his grandmother.

You told Bob about your family and your brother. You told him about his cancer and how that had cemented your choice to become a nurse. The more you talked the more you found yourself falling for him.

You’d never felt like this about anyone before and even Bradley could see the change in you. The way you smiled as you read his letters and the way you were so excited when talking about him. Jake saw the same change in Bob. He no longer seemed to walk around like a shadow but had a new lease of life. Jake even found the letters from you tucked under Bob’s pillow. ——————————————————————————The bookshop's opening night was coming around quickly and Jake and Bradley decided to make a plan. “I can’t take it anymore, Bradley. They need to meet each other. I’ve never seen Bob so in love.” Bradley smiled at his boyfriend. “Me neither. It’s like she’s a completely different person. I haven’t seen her this happy since her brother died.” The two decided to create a meet cute. “Bob loves rom coms and is a hopeless romantic, so this is perfect. Meeting the girl of his dreams at a bookshop. There will be music so they can dance and food. It’s perfect, Bradley.” “Don’t worry, Jake. I have the perfect plan.” ——————————————————————————

Bradley had been harassing you all week about what you were going to wear to the open night. “I don’t know, Brad. I was debating whether to wear that green dress I wore last year to my work’s Christmas party.”

“What!” Bradley choked on his coffee, spluttering the warm liquid down his shirt. “You can’t wear that,” he gasped. “It’s not at all sexy.”

You raised your eyebrow at him. “Brad, it’s a bookshop opening night, I don’t think there’s going to be anything remotely sexy about it.”

“Babydoll, trust me, please. You gotta look sexy.” He thumbed his way through the clothes in your wardrobe, pulling faces at some of them before pulling out a red dress. It was short and had a low cut neckline. “This is it. This is the one,” Bradely thrust the dress towards you.

“No Brad, I can’t wear this. It was an impulse buy, I’ve never even worn it…”

“Which is why this is perfect. If you're not turning up in this dress then I’ll wear it myself.”

You laughed at the thought of Bradley trying to squeeze into the red dress. Bradely looked at you sternly and you buckled. “Ok, fine. I’ll wear the dress.”

Bradley pulled you into a hug, lifting you off the ground. “Yes. You are going to look perfect.” You giggled as he set you down, cupping your cheek in his large hand. Bradley had always been a hands on sort of guy and you loved him for it, being embraced in your friend’s arms had always made you feel safe. You wished that you had someone who hugged you like that in the ‘more than friends’ way. You hoped that one day Bob would hug you like that, but then you’d have to meet him. You wanted to ask him to meet but you were so nervous that you wouldn’t live up to his expectations that you’d chickened out. Bradley could feel your shoulders tense and he could almost read your mind.

“You’ll find him one day, Love. I promise you.”

“Thanks, Brad. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Tag list: @callsign-phoenix @imjess-themess @blue-aconite @averyhotchner @mayhem24-7forever @green-socks @alexxavicry @a-reader-and-a-writer @topguncortez @maggiescarborough @callsignmaverick5 @ssprayberrythings @smoothdogsgirl @xoxabs88xox @luckyladycreator2 @abaker74 @elenavampire21 @classyunknownlover @okiegirl24 @airedale17 @sunlightmurdock @basiccortez @flashyourgreeneyesatme @callmemana @shadowolf993 @dhwanishah09

[icemavschild]

The Jock and The Rule Breaker» (1) The Rule Breaker Meets The Jock

Pairings: Icemav (Pete Mitchell x Tom Kazansky), Nick x Carole

Synopsis: Pete Mitchell was known for breaking rules and practically living in detention. This time round is no different, except for the Captain of the Football team.

Tom Kazansky is, well, Mr Popular. He’s not an asshole, but he’s not a goody-two-shoes. That’s evident considering he ends up in detention for punching some asshole for their bad mouth towards his best friend, Ron.

Warnings: none for this chapter.

A/N: Decided to start publishing! It’ll be routine so every Wednesday I’ll publish a new chapter!!

TOP GUN 1986 and TJATRB MASTERLIST

Top Gun Private School was known as one of the worlds most elite High Schools. It only took in those who had potential or were, in fact, the best of the best.

For Tom Kazansky, he was the best at Football. He played for the Top Gun Aviators since his arrival in Freshman year.

For Pete Mitchell, he was the best at physics. He competed against the State's brilliant Physicists-to-be annually since Freshman year. His closest friend, Nick Bradshaw, often said it was quite ironic he was a Physics kid—considering he seemed to defy the laws of that certain subject as a hobby.

There were many similarities between Pete and Tom. They shared classes such as English Literature, Economics and Trade and Chemistry.

There were also differences between Pete and Tom. Big differences. Differences such as the fact that Tom doesn't go out of his way to break the rules and Pete didn't go out of his way to clash heads with sweaty men.

Pete never used to be 'The Rule Breaker'. Once upon a Freshman year ago, he followed rules, he obeyed teachers, he tried getting good grades, he interacted with his Physics Club/Team. But then his father died and suddenly his mother was in ruins and his peers and teachers looked on with pity and sympathy.

So he changed those looks of pity to looks of disappointment. Anything was better than pity in his book.

Currently, Pete Mitchell was sat sulking sitting in detention a stack of lined paper in front of him and a pen behind his ear. By this point, Pete practically lived in detention. He knew the ins and outs of it, who was here and when. Today it was just him, he seemed to be the target for lonesome Saturday detention.

He was awoken by his daydreaming and his plans of escape when the door to the Library opened to reveal Mr Popular himself, Tom Kazansky.

"Captain!" Pete exclaimed sarcastically. "What brings you to the neighbourhood?" Kazansky rolled his eyes and sat at the front of the room, away, far far away, from Pete.

Pete made a groaning sound, almost like a whimper. Like he was hurt by the ignorance.

"You wound me, Captain, you wound me." He pouted and slammed his head on the desk a little harsher then he anticipated and let out a loud yelp. Tom laughing and turning around to face the delinquent.

"You wounded yourself, Mitchell." His voice was full of sass and snark. The fact that he even knew Pete's name shocked the Mitchell into silence. Not many people on the Football team knew Pete by name, the fact that the Captain did was a shocker.

"You know my name." He stated, rather than questioned. Tom rolling his eyes.

"You live next to my father." The Kazansky stated like it was obvious, "I visit every Saturday, dumbass."

"How was I supposed to know that?!" Pete exclaimed, throwing his arms up. "I spend my Saturdays here you numpty." The shorter boy grumbled. Tom frowning and coming to realise that he'd only seen Pete on a few occasional Saturdays.

"Why do you get in trouble so much?" The curious footballer asked, his brows quirking up in the slightest.

"Why are you here today?" Pete deflected, successfully changing the subject.

"I punched Toby McMillan in the face for calling Ron a fag." He answered honestly, Pete's eyes raising, he didn’t think the rumours were true.

"I didn't know that Kerner was—"

"He's not, Toby's just an asshole." Tom interrupted before Pete could continue his sentence.

Pete thought for a moment, his mind searching for reasons or evidence that Kazansky was lying. The more he racked his brain the more he realised that Ron Kerner wasn’t gay, despite what he’d heard.

Yes, Pete had heard the rumour that Kerner was gay. He’d never admit that he’d heard it or partake in the bullying, considering circumstances.

“True, McMillan is a fucking dickhead.” Pete laughed out; causing Tom to chuckle lightly. His smile showed his perfect teeth and it had Pete freezing with a light blush dusting his cheeks.

Tom, too, stared at Pete a little longer than he’d like to admit. Pete Mitchell had always been a mystery to him. He seemed to be one of the brightest minds this school had ever produced, yet he threw it all away for some deluded reason that Tom couldn’t figure out.

The few Saturdays he managed to catch a glimpse of the boy, he was always alone. His mother never seemed to be around, which suddenly stood out to Tom. He’d only ever seen Pete at home, alone.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” Petes voice had Tom startling slightly. Jumping to the left and almost toppling off of his seat; Pete laughing hysterically at the moment he managed to see.

Pete enjoyed watching people struggle and fumble; call him a sadist, but it was funny.

Instead of answering, Tom stood up and walked toward the back of the room and sat down in front of Pete. A small smirk on his face.

“I answered your question.” Tom suddenly said, Pete’s eyes widening. He hoped that Tom would’ve forgotten about that.

“Yes, thanks for that.” Pete smiled widely, Tom taking notice of his slightly wonky two front teeth. He wondered if he was born with that—or maybe if he had surgery.

“C’mon Mitchell, why do you always get into trouble?” Tom urged, his eyes glinting with something that scared Pete. It made him feel vulnerable. Like maybe Tom knew why, like he knew everything.

Like maybe he knew about his mother, knew about his father, which was most likely, but maybe…the worst part, maybe he knew how Pete felt about himself. Maybe he could see the way that Pete’s mind scolded and scarred him.

“Because it’s fun.” He lied, smirking convincingly at Tom who seemed to take the bait considering he rolled his eyes.

“You’re so anno—”

“MAV!” A loud shriek of a name that Tom didn’t know was heard from one of the back windows.

“Well, that’s my queue.” Pete chuckled out, a repeat of the weird name was heard, but this time louder. “I’m coming, Goose!” Pete screamed.

Now, Tom knew that name. Goose. It was a name he called regularly on the field. Nick Bradshaw, or Goose Bradshaw, was on the Football team much like Tom was. The team often gave each other nicknames based on events, personalities or some stupid reason.

Tom was Iceman, not because he’s ‘Ice cold’ or has an ‘ice heart’. He got Iceman because he slipped on some Ice in the parking lot in Sophomore year. Goose, well that’s a funnier story, one for another time because as Tom was sat daydreaming and remembering his own nickname. Pete had almost left the building.

“Hey! Wait up.” Tom exclaimed, picking up his bag and running toward the direction Pete had disappeared to.

“Didn’t think you’d be the type to skip detention.” Pete remarked once Tom had caught up.

“I don’t always follow the rules, Mitchell.” Tom retorted, his ever present smirk making Pete smile warmly for a moment.

“Oh, hey Ice.” Goose said with some surprise. Looking between the two. “How’s the hand?”

Tom chuckled and looked down at his bruised knuckles.

“They’re fine.” He looked back up to meet the eyes of Carole Smith, Bradshaw’s girlfriend. “Hey, Carole.”

The girl beamed at Ice and then turned to Pete. “Hurry up, Pete.” Said boy scoffed and jumped out, Tom following. Tom watched as Pete rushed toward Carole and picked her up. The girl crying out with a loud laugh.

Pete ran toward a car, Carole screaming for him to put her down.

“You wanna come to get food, Ice?” Nick asked his fellow teammate.

“Sure, why not.”

Tags:

@orange-juice-record

@justabeinga

@alistocats

(If you’re on my permanent tags and I haven’t mentioned you—PLEASE let me knowww)

If you want to be added to tags for this fic or my permanent tags, PM please (or else I’ll forgettt)

[rotnread]

A Rooster Walks Into A Bar.

Pairing: bradley ‘rooster’ bradshaw x reader

AN: i never write on here and i wasn’t going to share this cause it’s sooo bad. so i apologize in advance.

Warning: crappy dirty jokes (but seems more like your mom jokes). cringing may be unbearable. i think i say deer a lot, idk.

Summary: your call sign is 'bambi' & bradley wants to use a pick-up line to approach you. but none of it seems right. i wonder why....

*boo, you whore! don’t steal.*

You cute doe!

He thought.

It was a good one. It was safe. But he swears, even though Hangman’s earlier pick-ups didn’t land, that he could do much better.

Bradley had to think quicker.

You were lonely at the bar and Coyote has been staring you down like a predator sizing up its prey.

I would kill your mother to get a shot at you. If she doesn’t catch the reference, he's fucked.

You probably get Bambi the deer related pickup lines all the time to the point where it's boring or annoying, best to just avoid it.

But he loves pick-up lines deerly.

Oh deer, I’m gonna shoot my shot. But if I miss I hope I get your mom.

But if he remembered correctly, your mom had also passed away. Could be a good━ dark ice breaker.

Want to grab a coffee and exchange childhood trauma stories of our dead mothers?

Or, on second thought, no.

Your names Bambi? Well that's funny, cause I was thinking about skinning you like a deer.

(JESUS FUCKING CHRIST)

Hey Bitch someone shot your mom…

Hey Bambi, let me be your Thumper, AS IN: LET ME THUMP YOUR ASS LMAO!

Okay, maybe he won't. Not when he's already had a couple of drinks.

But you had already been all-too aware of him staring all night. Waiting for him to finally approach you. And the couple of drinks that you had yourself, given you just enough confidence to walk up to him instead.

Everyone else has had the courage to speak to you, welcoming you as a new recruit.

And still you have not had the honor to really talk to the one they call Rooster.

His height, the smell of his cologne, the Hawaiian t-shirt, and, of course, his retro mustache turned you into a deer in headlights.

Bradley Bradshaw was a sight for sore eyes.

Your sweet voice stops him mid-way from downing the rest of his drink.

"Bradley, right?" You asked.

He turns slowly on his heels, shoes facing you before his whole body follows.

He’s trying to wipe off that stupid expression on his face.

Eyes glazed, a confident smirk on his mouth.

"Yeah, but everyone calls me Rooster."

"Rooster." You repeated, matching his smirk. "It's perfect for you."

"You think?"

"Yeah. I grew up on a farm. So I’m pretty good at raising cocks." You wink.

He stifles a laugh.

It wasn't your best. You both knew that.

But it made first impressions.

[w0nderw0mansw0rld]

Hold My Hand

A Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw ficlet

A/N This is the very first thing I started and! finished writing and feel brave enough to share. Usually I am only on the reading side. But apparently, my obsession with TG and listening to the playlist on repeat sparked this little something. I highly recommend listening to the song while reading. Feedback is appreciated. Thanks for betaing @princessmisery666 - love u <3

Words 700 - no warnings

It's rare that Bradley and you have a whole weekend to yourselves, so whenever that was the case you made the most of it.

This weekend you went to the farmers market on Saturday morning, had lunch in town, did a little shopping and finally relaxed, goofing around at the beach until the sun was down.

On Sunday you slept in and Bradley surprised you with breakfast in bed. You went on a walk, then prepared dinner together and put it in the oven for later.

Now it's Sunday afternoon and Rooster is sitting at the piano in the corner of your living room, learning a new song you know he wants to show off at The Hard Deck next weekend when meeting with your friends for the annual Dagger Mission reunion.

You're laying on the sofa reading, sipping wine and listening to his progress. Checking the clock you notice there are only 10 minutes left before you have to get dinner out of the oven and you tell Bradley. He nods and watches you over his shoulder. You hold eye contact for a moment and wonder what's on his mind until one side of his mouth turns up in a grin and he turns back to the piano.

He starts playing totally different notes and you recognize the song immediately. You’re catapulted back to the best day of your life almost three years ago. You can nearly feel the warm sand between your feet, when you close your eyes, enjoying the music and letting the memory consume you whole.

You're barefoot in a beautiful, white, long, flowy dress, a handmade crown of daisies  loosely braided into your hair with a matching bouquet of daisies and other white wildflowers in your hand as the piano version of Hold My Hand by Lady Gaga starts to play and you're making your way down the sandy aisle. 

His watery eyes are on you and only you, as your very handsome and very soon-to-be-husband Lt. Bradley Bradshaw is waiting for you in his navy blue full dress uniform at the makeshift wedding altar on Breakers Beach.

Once you reach him you take the bouquet of flowers in one hand and he is taking your other in his much bigger one, gently rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. Bradley is taking you in and you squirm under his intense gaze.

"Hi," You whisper almost shyly. 

"Hi." He exhales and adds with the biggest smile on his face, "You're so beautiful, babygirl." You blush and he loves it.

The formalities of the ceremony are only a blurr, but you remember you only have eyes for each other and your cheeks hurt from smiling so much.

What you'll never forget is his vow. "I can conquer the whole world with one hand, as long as you hold the other." He squeezes your hand tightly. "I will always love you, baby." You've never felt stronger or more loved until this very moment.

The song ends and you open your eyes, tears threaten to spill as your husband is making his way over to you. "What's wrong, baby?"

His voice is laced with concern when he sees you up close. He sits beside you and caresses your cheek with his palm. "Just happy tears, honey. You know what that song does to me."

You smile up at him and lean forward so he can embrace you. "I get it. I love to play that song and remember the day you became Mrs. Bradshaw, became mine. It was the best day of my life."

He places a kiss on your temple, then helps you up from the sofa. But you stop him, hugging him tightly and tell him, "It was the best day of my life as well. I love being your wife. You make me so happy, Roos. I love you."

While gazing at each other you both have the same gigantic, lovestruck smiles on your faces just like the day you got married.

"I love you, too." He kisses your lips softly. "But let's get you fed, babygirl. You always get emotional when you’re hungry." He teases already halfway into the kitchen as you chase after him.

[ereardon]

Golden Hour || Ch. 4 [Bob Floyd x Bradley Bradshaw x OC]

A Bob Floyd & Bradley Bradshaw AU [Hart of Dixie inspired]

Synopsis: Willow, Georgia. Barely even a town, just a speck on a map that you tried to wipe off, mistaking it for a crumb. You’re the outsider: a fancy New York doctor, fresh out of a failed engagement, with zero primary care experience. You’re also the new town doctor, taking over for a recent retiree who was beloved. His son, Bob Floyd, is the other physician at the practice, and takes an immediate dislike to you. But you were looking for a fresh start, and Willow doesn’t seem all that bad if you can get past the fact that there's only one restaurant in town. It helps that you've caught the eye of Bradley Bradshaw, the town attorney, despite the fact that you vowed to take a break from dating. How long until you start to make friends in a town where social circles have been set in stone since elementary school? And what will it take to make Bob Floyd see you’re not as bad as he wants to believe you are?

Pairing: Bob Floyd x OC; Bradley Bradshaw x OC

Tropes: Love triangle, enemies to lovers

Warnings: Cursing, alcohol

Chapter summary: Bob's former fiancé moves back to town; Bradley finally gets Olive to go on a date with him

WC: 3.3K

Masterlist here; previous chapter here; next chapter here

You were sitting on a stool at Breakers picking at their breakfast of champions — grits, eggs fried in butter, a biscuit soaked in gravy, a doctor’s nightmare — when Phoenix’s head snapped up. 

“Charlotte,” she said, eyes wide. Something in her voice made you look up. A beautiful woman, late twenties or early thirties, stepped through the doorway. She had blonde hair in soft waves, perfect white teeth, legs that went on for miles beneath her short dress. But somehow it came off much more prim and proper than the skirt you were wearing, and you crossed your legs self consciously. 

“Natasha,” she said and you bristled. Who was this girl and why was she calling Phoenix Natasha? 

“Back home visiting your mom?” Phoenix asked, refilling the coffee machine and then turning around, placing both hands on the slightly sticky bar top. 

Charlotte shook her head. “No. I’m home for good.” 

You watched Phoenix’s mouth turn into a fine line. There was a density in the air that hadn’t been there a moment before. She caught your eye and then added, “Charlotte, this is Dr. Olive James. She’s taking over Dr. Robert’s patients.” 

Charlotte smiled. It was frigid and tense. Fuck, she was stunning. But she had the aura of someone who would cut you down immediately if you stood between her and winning. You knew her type well. 

You were her. In another life. The life that ended a month ago on a perfectly sunny day in New York. Not that you had been able to see the sunlight from inside the frigid OR as Peter confessed. 

You held out a hand. “Nice to meet you.” 

Charlotte stepped forward, sticking one thin, pale hand in yours. It was limp. “You too.” 

“So you grew up here?” you asked, taking a sip of coffee. 

She looked at Phoenix. “Yeah. Something like that. Listen, I should probably head out. I’m meeting Mrs. Flannery at nine.” Charlotte looked you up and down. “Nice to meet you, Olive. Nat, I’ll see you around.” 

She was gone in a moment, just a cloud of Byredo perfume left in her wake. You turned to Phoenix. “Who was that?” 

“That was Charlotte,” she said. “Local pageant queen. Complete nightmare. And Bob Floyd’s ex-fiancé.”

***

You had thought you were getting somewhere with Bob. After the way the two of you had left things at his father’s house. But the moment you stepped in the office there was a chill. Literally and figuratively. Molly sat at the front desk shivering in a cardigan. 

“Dr. James,” she said, teeth chattering. “Mr. Flannery is in your office. Unscheduled appointment. Oh and the HVAC guy is coming this afternoon. Something’s wrong with the air conditioning!” 

“I can tell,” you muttered, swinging open the heavy wood door to your office and smiling. “Mr. Flannery, I’m Dr. James. How can I help you today?” 

He looked up. “It’s my throat. Feels all scratchy. Like I can’t swallow.” 

“If you can sit up on this table over here, sir, I can help you out.” You maneuvered Mr. Flannery onto the paper-covered examination bed and pulled on a pair of gloves. “Open wide for me.” Swollen, red tonsils with white spots and an inflamed throat. You nodded, sitting back. “Sorry to say you have strep throat.” 

He closed his mouth. “Well fuck.” 

You laughed. “I’m sorry. I’ll write you a prescription for azithromycin. It’s a five-day course, make sure you take it about an hour before having any food. And even if you feel better, take the full course or it could come back and that would be a worse case.” 

“Is it contagious?” he asked. 

“Very.” 

“So I should send my wife in for treatment?” Mr. Flannery asked. 

“That would be a good precaution,” you said, writing down the prescription and ripping it off the pad. “Here you go. Take this to Molly up front and she’ll get everything squared away.” 

He nodded, standing up. “Thanks Doc.” 

“Oh, Mr. Flannery?” He turned. “What does your wife do?” 

“Why do you ask, Doctor?” 

“I, um, I knew someone had a meeting with her this morning. Was just curious. Still trying to keep everyone in town straight.” You flashed him what was hopefully a convincing smile. 

He nodded. “She’s a real estate agent. Are you looking?” 

“Maybe.” 

“I’ll have her come by and give you a card,” he said. “And for a check up.” 

“Feel better.” 

He closed the door behind him and you leaned back. Charlotte was looking for a house. That was serious. You had met the woman for all of three minutes and somehow were annoyed by her presence and the fact that she was in Willow to stay. 

Three patients later, you thought your limbs might fall off. “Molly,” you cried, tossing open the door to your office. “It’s freezing, when is the HVAC guy coming?” 

“Dr. James.” Bob’s voice was hard. You spotted the empty desk, as well as the sparse waiting room, just one older woman on the phone in the corner. “My office. Please.” 

You rolled your eyes, following Bob into his office. He looked toasty in a pair of slacks and a button down, sleeves still rolled up enough to show off his firm forearms. Meanwhile you shivered in a short skirt and sleeveless top. “It’s cold as fuck,” you moaned. 

Bob had his back to you, not even bothering to respond as he moved across the room, opening an old wooden cabinet that you assumed held medical supplies, emerging a minute later with a lab coat and a sweater. The sweater was a vintage cable knit, navy blue and slightly frayed at the collar and cuffs. He held them out. “Here.”

You took them wordlessly. Was Bob Floyd being nice to you? “Um, thank you,” you replied, putting the lab coat down and sliding on the sweater. It was slightly long, ending just above the hem of your skirt, and much too wide, but you sighed in relief as the warmth enveloped your body. Bob picked up the lab coat, holding it out and you pivoted slightly, placing one arm in and then the other. The jacket brushed against your knees and you hugged your arms close. 

He nodded. “Molly’s at lunch but when she’s back I’ll have her call Ed again about the A/C.” 

“Human popsicle,” you replied and to your surprise Bob’s lips twitched upward. You grinned. “Well, um, thanks again.” 

“No problem.” 

He seemed in no rush to have you leave, one hand propped against the wall casually. “I met Charlotte today,” you said. It spilled out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. 

Bob’s face went pale. An almost ashen color. Similar to watching someone hemorrhage blood after a birth. You regretted it the moment the words left your lips, but you just kept word vomiting into the abyss. 

“She’s pretty. Cold. Not quite a human popsicle, we might freeze here and it’ll be like the Day After Tomorrow without Dennis Quaid to rescue us cold. Just, distant.” 

“Charlotte is cold,” Bob said. His response was crisp. Calm. He would make an excellent surgeon. Collected and even tempered. You wondered briefly if he had ever thought of a specialty outside of general medicine. 

“I’m sorry,” you blurted. “I shouldn’t have said anything.” 

“It’s fine.” He pushed off of the arm that had been leaning against the wall, running one hand through his hair. “I’m guessing Phoenix told you about our history.” 

“That she was your fiancé,” you replied. “That’s all.” 

“That’s all,” he repeated. “Yeah, that’s about all there is.” 

“When was the last time you saw her?” 

“When she left,” Bob said. “Five years ago.” 

“Wow.” Five years was a lifetime. “I’m sorry.” 

“I’m sorry she’s back,” he replied. “Charlotte is a tornado. Everywhere, all at once. Destruction and chaos and excitement. And then gone in an instant. She loves to leave piles of shit in her wake.” It was the first time you had heard so many sentences come out of Bob’s mouth. And with such vitriol.  

“Maybe it was time Willow had some excitement.” 

Bob looked at you. There was something different in his gaze but you couldn’t place it. “Dr. James,” he said, silky voice grazing your skin gently. “We’ve only just started to adjust to having you here. That was exciting enough.” 

“I’m not that bad,” you protested. 

Bob shook his head. “Sure, Olive.” 

There it was again. Your name on his tongue. There was something so sexy about the reserved way he said it. You smiled, stepping closer to the door. If possible, it was colder when you tugged it open. From next to his desk, Bob smirked. You grabbed the chart next to your door and turned toward the waiting room. “Mrs. Okane?” 

***

When Bradley showed up at the end of your shift, you didn’t even think twice. It had been almost a week since he had been in the clinic. That was five times longer than he had gone without walking through the front doors the week before. 

You smirked when he popped his head into your office. “Dr. James?” 

“Mr. Bradshaw.” You put your hands on your desk and stood up. “What is it this time? Let me guess. Yellow fever.”

“See, Doc, I think it’s more serious than that.” He ambled through the doorway, wearing a suit. That alone took your breath away. No one as handsome as Bradley Bradshaw should be allowed to wear a suit, it was practically a crime how good he looked. He would have to try himself in a court of law for that. “I think I have stress cardiomyopathy.” 

You laughed, head tipped back. “A broken heart? Really Bradshaw?” 

“But you’re lucky,” Bradley said, stepping closer. “I’m a master at Googling and WebMD and I think I found a cure.” 

“Oh? And what would that be?” 

“You go on a date with me. Tonight.” 

You let out a sigh. “Bradley.” 

“I know, I know, you’re not here to date,” he said. “But one dinner? Doctors have to eat, too. Have to practice what you preach, right?” 

“You’re wearing me down, Bradshaw.” 

“That’s the point.” He flashed a brilliant smile which turned into a frown. One of Bradley’s hands came out, fingering the pocket of your lab coat. “Is this Bob’s jacket?” 

You hadn’t even realized that it was embroidered with his name. You had been seeing patients in it all day as Dr. Floyd. The fact that some of the patients may have thought that made you his wife made you blush. “Um, yeah. The AC was broken and it was freezing, so I borrowed something from him.” 

Bradley nodded but the relief didn’t reach his eyes. 

Against your better judgment, you reached out, taking Bradley’s hand in yours. His face warmed instantly. “OK. Dinner.”

“I’m guessing not Breakers.” 

“You know what I would love?” 

“A salt bagel from H&H?” 

“Well yes. And the crispy tuna from Koi on Bryant Park and dim sum from Flushing.” Bradley laughed. “But no. I just want a good, healthy meal. Something that isn’t drowned in butter and doesn’t have five different types of pig products on it. And a glass of wine that isn’t from a box.” You shuddered. 

“I can make that happen, Doc.” 

“Oh yeah?” 

“Red or white?” 

“Surprise me.” 

“I’ll pick you up at seven,” he said, dropping your hand. “Oh and Doc? Do me a favor. Lose Floyd’s coat. Makes you look like his.” 

“And that bothers you?” you called out as Bradley walked through the doorway. 

He turned back. “Yeah, Liv, it does. I’d like to pretend that on tonight’s date you’re all mine. Even if I’m still winning you over.” 

***

What the hell does one wear on a date in Willow, Georgia? 

All of your jeans were designer and too tight for the occasion. A dress felt too fancy. You kicked a slinky black Reformation dress into the corner of the room in frustration, standing in the middle of the chaos wearing a La Perla lingerie set and a pair of Jimmy Choos. Maybe you should just answer the door wearing that. Bradley might have a heart attack. It would go hand-in-hand with his fictional cardiomyopathy, you thought. 

Finally you picked up a black silky tank top and a short matching skirt, tugging them on just as there was a knock on the door. “Coming!” you shouted, grabbing your purse, a YSL Manhattan that was, no shocker, better suited in Manhattan than Willow, and spritzing a dose of Maison Margiela perfume on before rushing for the door. “Hi,” you said, letting out a quick sigh. 

Bradley had on a pair of jeans and a tight polo that showed off his muscular arms and broad chest. He grinned. “You look amazing.” 

You slipped the purse onto your shoulder. “It’s nice to have an excuse to dress up again.” 

“Willow fashion scene isn’t cutting it for you?” 

“The dress barn isn’t exactly my vibe,” you replied, locking the door. Bradley chuckled. “What?” 

“That,” he said, pointing to the door handle. “You locking the door. No one locks their doors around here. It’s Willow.” He placed an emphasis on Willow. 

“That’s insane.” 

He shrugged. “Again, that’s Willow. Here, watch your step.” Bradley held out his arm, guiding you down the steps toward his truck. 

“So, where are we going?” 

“It’s a surprise, Doc,” he replied, pulling the truck into reverse. 

Bradley’s surprise was dinner on his wraparound porch. He lived in a charming house one block from the town center, white with blue shutters and pots of mums outside the front door. He had set up a table and candles on one side of the house and even from outside you could smell something delicious. “What is that?” you asked, sniffing the air like a Doberman. 

He smiled. “Well you said healthy, but this is the South. So it’s chicken and dumplings. But I promise I made a salad.”

“Smells divine.” 

“Want to come inside and grab some wine while I check on dinner?” 

“Sure.” The inside of Bradley’s house was just as charming as the outside. A crisp white linen sofa facing a marble top coffee table, a six-person dining room set and a small kitchen with a little kitchen island. Down the hall you spotted an olive green mudroom with built-in shelves. “Your house is gorgeous.” 

“My mother decorated,” he replied, stepping up to the stove and pulling off a lid from the pot, the smell of rich chicken and veggies hitting your nose. “I let her because it was that or death.” 

“God, I feel that,” you replied. “My mother is the same.” 

“Probably why I went to New York,” he added. “Cut the umbilical cord.” 

“Do you miss it?” 

“All the time.” Bradley put the lid back on the dutch oven and reached up in the cabinet for two wine glasses. “Red or white?” 

“Red.”

He produced a bottle of pinot noir from a wine cabinet and set it on the counter. “What do you miss the most?” 

“Everything,” you replied automatically. “The sounds. It’s too quiet here to sleep at night.” 

“Yeah, I get that.” Bradley swirled a knife around the seam of the bottle, loosening the cover over the cork. “I miss the food.” 

“Obviously. And the nightlife. And the Met. Saturdays in Central Park and then walking over to Bloomingdales. Taking the Metro North on weekends up the Hudson. Christmas on Fifth Ave. Getting blackout drunk in the West Village and running into celebrities.”

Bradley chuckled. “You might have had more fun than I did.” 

“Maybe,” you replied, taking a sip of wine. “In medical school for sure. But residency? God, I was lucky if I was able to shower and order takeout before falling asleep.” 

“You know what I wonder?” Bradley asked.

“Hmm?”

“Did we ever meet in the city? How could we have spent all those years within the same twenty mile radius and never met?” 

“Chance, Bradley,” you said. “It’s not like I was hanging out at Columbia Law.” 

“I like to think we were in the same place at the same time before, but didn’t meet until now.” 

“Oh yeah? And why is that?” 

He smiled. “Because that’s a better love story, Doc. Two people, fated to meet. It’s every Hallmark movie rolled into one.” 

“So I’m the big city girl who leaves her fiancé and goes to the small town and falls in love with the local baker or farmer or pumpkin stand owner?” 

“Exactly.” He grinned. 

You sighed, shaking your head. “Yeah. Except I didn’t leave him. He left me. And I didn’t leave. I ran. They’re different.” 

“You’re here now,” Bradley whispered. “Maybe that’s the fate part.” 

“So what you’re telling me,” you said, leaning in closer, hip brushing against the kitchen island, dangerously close to where Bradley was standing, “is that you’re a hopeless romantic at heart.” 

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” 

After dinner, which was excellent and you confirmed was cooked entirely by Bradley, he cut thick slices of local peach pie and carried them out to where you sat on the porch. You shivered and Bradley found a blanket, laying it gingerly over your shoulders. You smiled up at him as he took a seat across the small table from you. The candles were melting down into their holders. You looked around. “This is a cute street. Feel like I’ve been here before.” 

Bradley hooked one thumb over his shoulder. “That’s Bob’s house.” He pointed to the house directly next door. You grimaced. That’s where you recognized it from, the day you had shown up to yell at him only to realize he had the flu. 

How was it possible that the only two men you spoke to in the entire town lived next to each other? 

“Olive.” Your name was sweet on his tongue. “Can I ask you a question?” 

“Go ahead.”

“How long do you plan on staying in Willow?”

“I’m not sure. Why?” 

He leaned back and shook his head. “Just wondering how bad my cardiomyopathy is going to be. If I should make an appointment at Atlanta General for next month or sometime next year.” It was October but the leaves were still firmly stuck on the trees. 

“Bradley,” you whispered. “Trust me when I say, you don’t want me.” 

“Patently false.” 

You shook your head. “Trust me. You’re better off. Find a nice girl, like Phoenix. Someone who belongs here.” 

“That’s the thing,” he replied. “I don’t exactly belong here anymore either.” 

“So why stay?” 

“Problem is that I don’t belong anywhere. Not here, not New York. I’m not entirely dedicated to a single place.” 

“Maybe it’s somewhere else,” you countered. “Somewhere you haven’t been yet.”

“I know what I’m missing, Olive, and it’s not a house or a job or a favorite restaurant.” 

“Then what is it?” 

“A partner,” he said and your breath caught in your throat. “When you find that one person you can’t live without, you can live anywhere. Because it’s not about being tied to a place. It’s being tied to another person.” 

“How can you be so sure?” 

“I can’t,” he said softly. “Not until I find her.” 

“Maybe she’s back in New York,” you replied. “Or Atlanta. Or San Diego.” 

“Or maybe, she’s sitting in front of me pretending to eat a piece of peach pie.” 

“Oh, Bradley.” At that moment, a light flickered on in Bob’s house. You turned just as Bob approached the window of his living room, one hand on each side of the drapes. Your eyes caught his for a moment. 

And then he pulled the drapes together, shutting you out.

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Trouble With Comms

Fandom: Top Gun: Maverick Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw/Jake “Hangman” Seresin Rating: E Word Count: 4889

Summary: Bradley gets himself a gig as Jake’s back-seater. Now that he’s a little more familiar with the circuit breakers, it’s easy to switch off the radio and be the only voice in Jake’s ear.

Did Bradley lie to Jake? No. Did he dupe him for his own personal amusement? Oh, definitely.

He said he wanted to take a little road trip while they’re both on leave. Truth. Said it was something Mav had pulled a couple strings to arrange for them. Truth. Said he was giving Jake the experience to fly something he’s never flown before. Again, the truth. Of course, Bradley knows what it seemed like he was implying, especially when he name-dropped the location. He’s still enough of an asshole towards Jake that it’s killing him not to burst the guy’s bubble. Jake’s been so fucking excited the whole way here.

They’re staying at Mav’s while Mav bums around the Coronado peninsula, enjoying retirement and his on-again status with the incomparable Penny Benjamin. His place here is nice, if slightly impersonal; Bradley knows Mav keeps most of his treasures and souvenirs over at his hangar. Even so, there’s a framed photo of Mav and his dad in the entryway when he and Jake push inside, lugging their duffle bags and tired from the drive. Bradley straightens the picture with a murmured, “Hey, Dad,” and follows Jake into the house.

Mav has a piano in the living room. Doesn’t play the thing, so Bradley assumes it’s just something he bought when he got sick of buying shit with engines. He understands the emotional significance, obviously, but what he personally enjoys about this particular instrument is getting to sit down at the keyboard before dawn the next morning and lay down a hammering rendition of “Old Time Rock & Roll” that makes Jake leap off the pullout couch.

Bradley quits playing and swivels around on the piano stool with a smile on his face. Jake’s standing there in his boxers, sheet torn from the bed and caught around his leg, pillow flung down at his feet.

“Wakey wakey,” he says.

Jake rubs the heel of his hand into his eye and groans, “Fuck.”

“Big day, champ. Time to get a wiggle on.”

The pillow is rescued from the floor and whipped at Bradley’s head.

They’re here as colleagues, members of the same elite squadron. They’ve never used the word “friends,” but, technically, yeah. Things changed on that mission and Bradley has no interest in changing them back. Things like waking up from a nap on the road to Jake’s hand giving his shoulder a squeeze because he wrapped his arm around the back of the passenger seat while Bradley was sleeping. Things like taking a little too long to get up from the piano stool because damn, Jake looks good in the morning. Bedhead, mostly naked, and okayyyy, Bradley is forcing himself to go into the kitchen and look for coffee. Mav loves his vintage shit, so no convenient little pods for him; Bradley pours water into the reservoir and dumps too many scoops of grounds into the filter because his mind is on Jake getting dressed in the next room.

Wired, they hop in the car and drive over to the hangar. Maybe not the right hangar. The joke’s gone on way too long now, but Bradley kinda wants to see Jake drool.

The door’s open when they get there and Hondo steps out into the early light with his arms raised.

“We meet again!” he says.

Bradley smiles and pulls Hondo into a hug—with him and Mav starting to repair their relationship, he’s heard a lot about how Hondo’s had his back with the test program, how he stuck his neck out even with Admiral Cain breathing down it. Bradley hopes he and Hondo will see more of each other in the future. For today, he feels giddily privileged to have Hondo in on the scheme.

“He still doesn’t know?” Hondo whispers as Bradley steps back.

“Nope.”

“Man!” Jake exclaims from inside the hangar. “This is…! Mav pushed this thing to Mach 10?!”

Hondo and Bradley trail him inside.

“10.3,” Hondo corrects, hands resting proudly on his hips. “Not this one though. This is the new prototype. Now that Mav, uh, exposed some of its high-hypersonic vulnerabilities, they’re considering modifications to the panels, the frame—”

“Yeah,” Jake says inattentively. He’s staring at the cutting-edge scramjet like it’s the face of god and Bradley is working so fucking hard not to laugh. (But it’s beautiful too—the plane and Jake’s expression of pure awe.) “Mav bounced that billion-dollar masterpiece across the sound barrier like a skipping stone and crashed it like a toddler behind the wheel of a Barbie jeep. Which is not unlike how this one drives.”

He doesn’t have to point at Bradley for Bradley to get who the insult is aimed at. He jerks back.

“That came out of nowhere.”

“Kinda like that eighteen-wheeler you almost hit yesterday morning. But then the surroundings are a little unpredictable when you make U-turns on highway offramps.”

“It was the wrong ramp!” Bradley says defensively. “Am I supposed to drive half an hour in rural bumfuck wherever-the-hell before I can get us back on the highway?”

Hondo laughs at them.

“Did you two get married on the carrier? I was there, but I guess I missed the wedding.”

Bradley’s about to reply when something else Hondo said catches up with Jake.

“Wait,” Jake says, finally looking away from the sleek aircraft. “New prototype?”

“That’s right,” Hondo agrees.

“New flyable prototype?”

“Once the modifications have been made. A lot of time and money goes into reengineering this kind of machine. They only made two in the first place because… well, you know Maverick. He makes very convincing promises. He said he’d get Darkstar to Mach 10 and he did. But nobody’s putting this one in the air until they can reasonably believe it’ll perform better than the one Mav…” Hondo trails off and adjusts his glasses.

Jake does not look happy. He stares squarely at Bradley as he informs Hondo, “I was brought here under false pretenses.”

“I never said you’d be flying the scramjet,” Bradley argues.

“Yes, you did.”

“I fucking know I didn’t because I was purposely saying just enough to make you think that.”

“This is the meanest thing anyone has ever done to me,” Jake says very calmly. An instant later, he lunges towards Bradley and Bradley hightails it back towards the car, laughing as Jake chases after him in a flat sprint.

“Guys, come on,” Hondo complains. “We have a schedule to keep.”

Jake stops. So does Bradley, at a safe distance.

“Why do we have a schedule to keep if we’re not going up?” Jake wonders.

“You are,” Hondo says. “Just not in that.”

“In what then?”

Bradley smiles.

They follow their long shadows to another hangar, the sun warm on their backs as it begins to rise. Hondo punches the button to raise the door and Bradley grins as he watches Jake waiting stiffly. He can tell that, after the anticipation of the scramjet, Jake wants to drop to the ground and peer under the door just to catch a glimpse, but he’s containing himself.

“What do you think it’s gonna be?” he teases.

“Fuck you, Bradshaw,” Jake says pleasantly.

“No threat about how I’m gonna be sleeping on the pullout couch tonight?”

“Why would you? You lonely?”

“Not with you, idiot.”

“You brought it up.”

“You—”

“A Tomcat?” Jake blurts out. The hangar door’s risen high enough that they can see inside if they tilt their heads to the side, which Jake has. “What is this place, a museum of planes crashed by the legendary Captain Mitchell?”

“He didn’t crash the Tomcat,” Bradley corrects. “He landed it on the carrier.”

“No landing gear. He didn’t land it, he flew it into a net.”

“Anyway,” Hondo says loudly, before they can debate it any further. “This aircraft is, again, not the one Mav…”

“Just say ‘crashed,’” Jake prompts.

Hondo gives him a look.

“Landing gear’s intact,” he assures them. “It’s completely airworthy.”

Including the ejection handles. Bradley’s already discussed it with him. Logically, he knew Hondo wouldn’t put them in a plane that wasn’t thoroughly maintained and recently inspected, but he found that he couldn’t not ask. One Bradshaw man already lost his life to an F-14 ejection failure, and Bradley almost bought it with those faulty loops before Jake showed up in time to be a hero.

“It’s old,” Jake counters bluntly.

“It’s sound,” Bradley corrects, even though it is old—older than either of them.

Jake looks at him.

“What am I supposed to do with this thing?” He gestures into the hangar they still haven’t actually entered.

“Fly it.”

“It was a hell of an elaborate trick,” Jake says, shaking his head. “Getting me to come out here with you, making me think you were doing something nice for me.”

“Hey.” Hondo steps between them, holding Jake’s eye. “He is doing something nice for you.”

Bradley looks away and wanders over to the Tomcat. He doesn’t want to overhear, but he does, but he doesn’t. But he does. He listens to Hondo spilling his secrets.

“Rooster asked Maverick to set this up so you’d have an opportunity to experience that mission from his perspective. He thought you might have a little more respect for how hard they fought to get home—”

“I brought them home,” Jake disputes.

Bradley hears Hondo sigh.

“Nobody’s saying otherwise. He just wants you to understand. And he thought you’d enjoy it. Simple as that. When are you gonna get another chance to fly one of these?”

“So I cruise around in this relic while Bradshaw does what? Squeegees the windows on the scramjet?”

“No, dumbass,” Bradley says, turning. “I’m your RIO.”

He’s inside the dim hangar and Jake’s outside in the sun, pale light glinting off his aviators.

“Excuse me?” Jake asks, looking, with his classically styled hair and his confident posture, like a pilot from decades earlier, charming the Pan Am girls between flights. Bradley’s no Pan Am girl, but he is more than a little charmed by Jake’s polite disbelief and the way his face looks, half lit up, half cut away in shadow.

“Your RIO,” Bradley repeats. “Your back-seater. Your fucking partner. If you think you can get her off the ground.”

He wishes he could see Jake’s eyes.

“And you’ll have me down here,” Hondo says. “So. You boys flying today?”

Jake pulls off his sunglasses as he walks into the hangar. His pace is thoughtful, and he isn’t looking at Bradley, but when he places a hand on the belly of the Tomcat and drags it to the nose, Bradley knows his answer.

“I’ll grab my gear,” he says.

“Get mine too.” Jake doesn’t look away from the jet.

“Get your own goddamn gear—I’m your RIO, not your porter.”

“And what a pleasure it’ll be to have you in my ear,” Jake says sarcastically.

It’s still so early, but it’s already the second time this morning that Bradley’s looked at him a little too long. Some of Jake’s suggestions aren’t terrible, especially the ones he doesn’t mean to be suggestions.

—

As big a mouth as Jake has sometimes, he’s never been all talk; he knows his shit and he’s more familiar with piloting an F-14 than Bradley was with operating its radio. Still, Jake’s knowledge is theoretical, so he spends a few minutes sitting in the jet to get acquainted with it. When Bradley climbs up, Jake’s bare hand is wrapped around the throttle, manipulating it in an easy circle between his legs. Bradley misses his footing and almost faceplants into the side of the Tomcat. Thank fuck Jake is too focused to notice.

“Yeah, I can get her off the ground,” he says.

“How ’bout landing her?” Bradley demands from the back seat. He twists around, locating the UHF 2 circuit breaker before they’re airborne, then fits his visor into place.

Jake closes the canopy.

“Can. You. Land. Her,” Bradley repeats.

“We’re sure gonna find out. You’re flyin’ with Hangman now, baby. WOO!”

“Christ,” Bradley mutters, but they’re taxiing out onto the strip.

Although it’s not too late to tell Jake to stop and let him out, he won’t do that. He’d get demoted from “Rooster” to “Chicken” like that. Besides, he has kinda always wanted to fly with him. That’s the one thing Hondo didn’t tell Jake when he was selling him on this. Then again, he didn’t know. It’s not like Bradley advertises it, but every time Jake’s pulled some crazy shit up in the air, he’s wondered what it’d be like to be under that canopy with him. Not manning a separate aircraft, pissed off at Jake for breaking formation to showboat during an exercise—sitting behind him, feeling that unrivalled swoop in his stomach when the horizon blinks out of sight. Exhaling into his mask when the force of acceleration shoves him back into his seat, surrendering to Jake’s control.

Bradley gets the radio operational and when Jake requests permission to take off, Hondo gives them clearance.

The last time Bradley sat in the back of an F-14, it was rocketing across a foreign taxiway with its wings extended, speed increasing as smoke drifted over from the bombed-out airstrips, pointing straight at a wall while Bradley just about shit himself. That was being Mav’s RIO. Being Jake’s comes with a much less terrifying context, but that asshole still tests out the Tomcat’s handling without warning, tossing Bradley from side to side until he wants to reach forward and smack the back of Jake’s helmet.

“Sorry, folks, little bit of turbulence there,” Jake says in this pompous, commercial-airline pilot voice.

“Fuck you, dude.”

“You’ll be happy to know we’ve got clear skies up ahead.”

Before Bradley can tell him to smarten up, Jake rolls them gently into a heading diagonal to the slow sunrise. When Bradley blocks out the sun with his fist, he can see the fading edge of the night, the hazy grey where disappearing blue meets orange. Closer to the sun, this radiant, pale pink. It’s a colour he wants to fly into. Every time he goes up, he has this migratory, animal urge to chase the sun.

“That’s something,” Jake remarks, and Bradley glances forward to see his pilot’s eyes on the same blown-rose streak across the sky.

“Yeah.”

They unclip their masks and stare in silence for a while, Bradley’s gaze darting occasionally to his radar screen out of habit.

After a few minutes, Jake says, “So, Mav decided the two of you were going to steal an F-14. What was that like?”

Bradley laughs.

“The opposite of this.”

But Jake waits for more. Eventually, Bradley tells him.

“And then… you,” he finishes, wanting to play with his shades or run a hand through his hair, but there’s nothing for his hands to fidget with except breakers, and he still does not know enough about this plane to let his fingers rove. He ends up clutching his knees. They soar forward in such a smooth glide that air might not even exist. There might be no such thing as an atmosphere.

“I was not jealous of your ride,” Jake says. “Had a pretty healthy appreciation for it though.”

“You gotta respect the history,” Bradley agrees.

“Not in the past—I appreciated it for… you know.”

“What?” Bradley’s grinning.

“For getting you and Mav home.”

“I thought you brought us home,” he says, echoing what Jake told Hondo. He half expects Hondo to chime in over comms.

“How true,” Jake says with zero humility. “Don’t you forget it, Bradshaw.”

“Wow. You were almost decent for a minute there.”

“Oh, I’m much better than decent. And for much longer than a minute.”

Bradley chews his lip.

“Hey, Hondo…” he says. “Having a little trouble with comms.”

“Comms?” Hondo says. “You shouldn’t be. I hear you guys loud and clear. We just—”

“Yep, they’re, uh, they’re broken.”

“Rooster, come on.” Hondo’s tone is pleading. “Remember you’re up there on a favour. Don’t screw around.”

“I’m not. I’m just doin’ what Mav would do.”

“That’s the very definitely of—”

Bradley flips the breaker, cutting off the radio.

“You fucking around back there?” Jake asks. He doesn’t sound overly concerned, and that’s where trust has gotten them.

“I wish we were,” Bradley says, deliberately mishearing him.

“Say again?”

“You heard me, Seresin.”

Jake laughs, keeping their course steady.

“Cautious Rooster sabotaging military equipment for his own nefarious purposes,” he says. “I never thought I’d see the day.”

“I didn’t sabotage shit. I thought you’d appreciate the privacy.” Bradley leans to the side, letting his helmet rest against the canopy, to see as much as he can of the side of Jake’s face. Jake turns his head a little and it looks like he’s grinning.

“I think we both know you’re the shy one,” Jake says. “Whether or not I appreciate the privacy depends on what you’re gonna say.”

“What are you saying?”

“Make it worth killing the comms. Woo me, Bradshaw.”

“I got a boner when I heard your voice,” Bradley confesses.

Jake’s head jerks like he wants to turn around in his seat and look at him.

“I said woo,” Jake emphasizes. “You know what ‘woo’ implies? Easing into it.”

“I can’t picture you wanting me to go in easy,” Bradley says in a loud, flat voice, a voice that says he wants Jake to get the pun, and that he isn’t afraid to be obvious. Feels like there are a lot of things he’s not afraid of anymore.

“Anyway,” he drawls, “it must’ve been the fucking all-time-high spike in my adrenaline from thinking I was about to die that had me so alert and had, you know, my blood pumping that fast.”

“On the mission?” Jake sounds genuinely shocked.

“That’s what I’m telling you, dude. And then I hear your voice. And you’re sounding like the cockiest motherfucking angel to ever be posted at the gate to heaven. Just for that millisecond, I thought I died, but then I realized I was alive and your voice was real. I’ve never been that fucking relieved in my life and I swear to god, that relief was like a goddamn drug. Like a wave of bliss. You were still talking and I felt like I’d just come. I hadn’t, but I was hard as a fucking flagpole. Over you talking about fucking tray tables.”

“This is you getting even.”

“Only if you’re hard. You hard, Hangman?”

He watches Jake shift in his seat, the rock of his shoulders that says he wants to move more but he can’t. They’re pretty confined in here.

“You made the right call with the comms,” Jake says tightly, and a compliment is acknowledgment enough.

Bradley grins to himself.

“I know,” he says. “Just so you know, I’d take care of that for you if I could.”

“This is the jet they should be modifying.”

“Wouldn’t need much room. Just enough to reach my arm around and touch you where you need me.”

“Need you?”

“Oh, you’d need me,” Bradley insists, licking his lips and leaning towards Jake unconsciously. “I’d make you admit it.”

“I could just do it myself.”

“Can’t do everything. You have other responsibilities. You’re flying the plane.”

“I’m turning us around,” Jake says impatiently, and he does while Bradley feels a massive amount of satisfaction. This is really fucking working.

He laughs at Jake.

“You’re in your RIO’s hands until then. Don’t worry—I’ve got you. I know you’re imagining my hand in your lap.”

“You should be sitting in my lap,” Jake bites out.

“Yeah, but then they couldn’t call RIOs back-seaters,” Bradley points out, like this is an idle disagreement.

“Having you back there right now isn’t ideal.”

“You sure you don’t like me behind you? What if I was fucking you?” The sudden increase in Gs knocks Bradley back against his seat, but he doesn’t mind, because Jake is speeding up.

And isn’t replying.

“You copying?” Bradley asks. “I asked if you want me to fuck you from behind. Are you gonna answer or are you still too special to communicate with anybody who’s in the air with you?”

“Rooster, Rooster, Rooster,” Jake chants condescendingly. “I shouldn’t be surprised that you don’t know how to stop when you’re ahead, because you never really do get ahead, do you?”

“I’d love to get head. You offering?”

He hears Jake’s noise of irritation, and it just makes him smile. Jake’s trying to insult him as a distraction—a distraction to Bradley and to himself, so he can maybe think of something other than the images Bradley’s putting in his head—but Bradley won’t get distracted. When he has the tactical advantage, he knows how to take it.

“Or you want it?” he asks, suggesting an alternative that gets a groan from the front seat. “If you could land this plane while I’m blowing you so good you wanna ram your cock down my throat and choke me, I’d recommend you for a commendation myself.”

“I can’t believe you have such little respect for Mav,” Jake pants. “The things I’m gonna have to do to you in his bed.”

“You’re too good for the pullout now?”

“Oh, there won’t be any pullout.” Before Bradley can playfully ask for clarification on whether they’re talking about the same pullout, Jake instructs him, “Turn the radio back on. Fuck. We’re almost back, raise Hondo.”

“Yikes, only if you watch your language, man.”

“Up yours, Bradshaw.”

“You promise?”

The circuit breaker’s getting easier to locate and Bradley flips it before Jake can say anything else. He’s laughing as he lets Hondo know they’re ready to come down. Brusquely, Jake takes over.

“You two good?” Hondo checks. “What happened out there?”

“Nothing I can’t handle,” Jake says confidently.

“That remains to be seen,” Bradley says under his breath.

“Just shut up and get ready for landing. No net this time. I’m gonna show you how a Tomcat should be landed.”

“You gonna bring it in smooth, Hangman?”

“So smooth, Rooster.”

“Guys…” Hondo almost sounds like he’s in physical pain. Bradley guesses his reason for turning off the radio won’t be much of a secret now.

Last time he was in this position, he really didn’t care what happened to the plane as long as he and Mav were in one piece when they clambered out of it. That F-14 didn’t tear through the net or erupt in flames or skid off the end of the carrier into the ocean. That was a success in their books. In contrast, Jake has to do it perfectly. He follows protocol to the letter as he communicates with Hondo, then proves to Bradley that, yeah, he can land this plane, and he can do it cleaner than anyone else. When they touch down, Bradley checks either side, glove pressed to the canopy, and sees that Jake put them dead center on the airstrip. Fucking overachiever.

They taxi back towards the hangar and Hondo says, “You two take a minute,” before the radio goes dead.

The second Jake retracts the canopy, Bradley gets up quickly, tugging off his gloves, lifting his helmet off and fluffing his hair back up; he expects Jake to come popping out of the pilot’s seat like a jack-in-the-box and he wants to be ready. When he doesn’t, Bradley has to remember that Jake’s a master of languidness. The lazy self-confidence he demonstrated at the Hard Deck, strolling around, taunting Bradley slow, toying with him so it’d be Bradley who lost it, Bradley who overreacted in front of the other candidates. He didn’t, not that day, but it’s always been Jake’s method of firmly pushing every single one of his buttons like there’s no rush that drives Bradley from calm right to the edge of something explosive. It’s not anger anymore, but it’s still Jake that does this to him. It’s always been Jake.

Bradley crouches on the wing at his side. Jake has his helmet upside down in his lap, his gloves tucked inside.

“Come on,” he says quietly, slapping Jake’s shoulder. “Let’s get out of here.”

“I’m too fucking hard to stand up,” Jake snaps.

Bradley’s abrupt laughter is booming. It reaches the hangar walls and sweeps back over the two of them like a cresting wave. With the hand not gripping his helmet, Bradley wraps an arm around himself and digs his fingers into his stomach through his flight suit, though he’s laughing so hard there can’t be anything left to hold in.

Jake’s mouth is stern, but his glittering eyes are a threat and a pick-up line and a guarantee.

—

“Say again?” Jake asks, adjusting his grasp on Bradley’s hips.

Bradley’s bent over the back of the couch Jake remade so fastidiously that morning—folding the pullout mattress away, replacing the cushions, straightening Mav’s sad throw pillows. It’s like he knew all along that he wouldn’t be spending another night down here. Afternoon’s fair game though. They didn’t make it upstairs.

“Ha…” The word dissolves into a moan leaving Bradley’s mouth.

The only place they stopped between the hangar and the house was a pharmacy. Jake leaned his forearm on the counter and flirted with the cashier while Bradley—hiding behind his sunglasses with a patchy flush creeping up his face from his neck—paid for condoms and lube. Jake wouldn’t concede to buying so much as a pack of gum for the bare-minimum pretense that they weren’t just in the store because they were desperate to fuck.

“Didn’t catch that,” Jake pants. His hips rock shallowly against Bradley’s ass and his hand reaches around to cup Bradley’s balls, ignoring his rigid erection and the trickle of precum that’s just waiting to be smeared all over it. Bradley tightens his grip on the back of the couch.

“Harder,” Bradley grits out.

“See?” Jake taunts, slamming back into him and almost making Bradley’s knees buckle. “You just have to communicate a little better.”

“The day I take lessons in communicating from you is the day—”

“I make sweet love to you all over Mav’s home furnishings?”

Bradley releases a shaky breath.

“This isn’t sweet,” he argues.

“Well, no, this isn’t. Whose fault is that?”

Bradley grinds his teeth together.

“Let’s hear it, Bradshaw,” Jake insists, changing the angle of his hips to fuck up into him in a slow, hard roll. “Tell me who fucked around and found out.”

“Fuck off.”

Jake threads his fingers through Bradley’s hair, making him shudder because it’s so fucking gentle, not violent. Jake’s like this: always nudging, constantly needling, but leaving it up to Bradley whether they go at each other or lie to themselves that anything ever happened. Bradley bows his head forward and it tugs the hair in Jake’s grip.

“Is that a nod or are you just asking for more?” Jake asks, and Bradley doesn’t know how he’s still holding out. Apparently, being that much of a dickhead makes you last longer.

“Both,” Bradley gasps.

“Just. Say,” Jake reminds him, thrusting hard after each word.

Bradley groans and melts into the couch, collapsing down onto his elbows as Jake wrenches his hair and sends his cock deep. A tear escape the corner of his eye. It’s so good. It’s so fucking good. Finally, Jake’s fingers wrap around his erection.

But Bradley has to push his hand away.

“No,” he pants. “No. I can’t… I can’t come on Mav’s couch.”

They’re both laughing weakly as Jake loops an arm around his waist and they take stumbling steps backwards, still joined. When Bradley grabs for the piano stool, he’s just trying to keep from falling over, but Jake clearly decides that’ll do for balance; they fuck with Bradley bent in two, sweaty hand stuck to rich, lacquered wood. Jake closes his fist around Bradley’s cock and strokes him quick and slick and rough, every moan catching in Bradley’s throat, tangling there, clogging up, until Jake goes, “Ugh, yes,” and all those sounds of pleasure leave Bradley as he comes too. Jake jerks his dick until he’s splattered a sloppy line across the floor.

Jake eases out and pulls Bradley upright, pressing him back against his chest as they breathe hard together. Bradley doesn’t know why Jake’s betting on his legs not giving out, because he’s feeling pretty shaky.

“You’re cleaning that,” Bradley sighs, gesturing at the floor, then dropping his head back until his temple rests against Jake’s cheek.

“You just want to see me on my hands and knees.”

Bradley shrugs.

“Wouldn’t hate it.”

“Wouldn’t Hate It,” Jake repeats mockingly. “The Hangman and Rooster Story.”

“The Rooster and Hangman Story sounds better,” Bradley says. “Better order.”

“I don’t like it for some reason.”

“Fucking shocker.”

Jake laughs and his body shakes against Bradley’s. Turning his head, he finds Jake’s chin with his mouth before he gets to his lips, kissing him brokenly and with increasing heat. Jake’s hand slides down his stomach to rest right above his cock. They’ll go again, as soon as possible, and the floor will be forgotten. If it stains, they’ll buy Mav a rug.

Bradley draws back, eyelashes fluttering down as he gazes at Jake’s mouth.

“You owe me sweet,” he says.

They head upstairs and it is sweet. It’s even horizontal.