#rooster bradshaw imagine

[sunlightmurdock]

hands to yourself | dilf bradley bradshaw x nanny!reader (18+)

surprised with an afternoon to himself, bradley takes advantage of the alone-time, thinking about the woman he can’t have.

warnings: shameless pwp, bradley is down bad for his nanny and hasn’t touched himself — or anyone — in a long ass time. masturbation, pining, swearing, fantasising about oral and such. voyeurism, kinda, he gets walked in on. I may write a part two for this but idk yet. I just needed to write a lil smth about him touching himself. Wc: 3k

this is the lingerie set I was thinking of but imagine whatever ya like x

…

Bradley drops his keys into the bowl by the door, they land with a stark rattle. The faint tan-line between his brows disappears into the crease that caused it as he frowns. He looks towards the stairs, and then wanders in the living room. His boots tap softly against the floor.

“Kids?” He calls out into the unfamiliar quiet.

Nothing. His eyes widen in slight panic, pushing his sunglasses up into his hair as he looks around him. The floor is spotless — their toys are stored neatly in their bins, there aren’t any new stains on his rug, and there aren’t any cartoons on his television.

The sound of his boots on the ground are unnerving; he can’t bring himself to admit that he misses the sounds of chaos he usually returns to. He wanders through the house, making a beeline for the backyard. Sunny day like this, he figures that’s where he’ll find them.

Nothing. The yard is completely empty beside the laundry hanging out to dry. His mouth feels dry.

Once the mid-day mind fog dissipates, Bradley’s panic starts to, too. That birthday party. You’d mentioned it twice this week already, and once this morning. He’s just forgetful at the minute — — you know how crazy work has been for him.

He pauses, standing in his unusually clean living room, and purses his lips. His hands come to rest on his hips while he looks around him. He isn’t used to this.

Usually, within seconds of him walking through the door, he’s got a kid attached to his leg or a fight to break up or a permission slip to sign.

There’s nothing that he needs to do.

Nothing urgent.

Nobody else home.

Lifting his wrist, he takes a quick glance down at his watch and considers what to do with his sudden freedom. Birthday parties take a couple of hours, right?

He takes one final look around him, his eyes catching on the laundry drying outside. Clipped to the line is a power-blue balconette bra. He’s seen it before. The day he accidentally walked in on you.

Since you moved in four months ago, Bradley has been especially careful about knocking first. He wishes he could say it’s because he’s a gentleman. Really, it’s just because it made it hard enough for him to keep his hands to himself the first time.

There had been a heatwave that week. You had the afternoon off but Bradley hadn’t been able to find the sunscreen, and his kids are damn near impossible to keep out of the sunlight. With them arguing downstairs and trying to figure out the lock to let themselves out, he just wasn’t thinking and he hadn’t knocked.

“Hey, do you know where you put the—“ He’d stopped, frozen, taking in the sight of you sprawled across your bed. His bed. The bed he gave to you when you got the job of living here. A red popsicle between your lips and a book propped open in front of you, wearing nothing but a powder-blue set.

“Oh—“ Your eyes had gone all wide and surprised, too shocked to move, just like him.

The only thing that reminded him that he even had the option to move was the sound of his son running up the stairs to hurry this process along. He had slammed the door shut, blushing furiously, and turned to face his eldest.

“Found it, dad! It was in my backpack.” Grinning, he had held up the bottle of sunscreen and Bradley had just been forced to continue with his afternoon like he hadn’t seen anything at all.

When he finally peels his eyes away from the line of drying clothes outside, his gaze lands on the basket of dried and folded laundry sitting on his kitchen counter ready to be put away. Sitting right on top, is a glossy looking pair of blue panties that match the bra on the line.

Bradley’s already been kicking himself for his behavior since you got here. It’s downright shameful, the things he lets himself think about you. You’re half his age, first off. Second -- he’s your boss. You live in his house. His kids think you’re their best friend.

They think you’re just here because you love hanging out with them so much, not because their mommy and daddy couldn’t get along for the life of them and daddy works too much.

His mouth waters. Staring at some blue lace in a laundry hamper and his mouth’s practically watering. He’s pathetic. His guy friends keep telling him he needs to get back in the game, start moving on — he hadn’t been so sure. But then, he’s never almost popped a hard-on over a thong in a pile before.

He can picture you so perfectly in them. Your round ass barely covered by the material, legs kicked up behind you and your ankles crossed. When he closes his eyes, he can picture you facing the other way. Your face toward the headboard, your ass right in front of him.

His slacks grow tighter as his neglected cock stirs to life. It occurs to him that he can’t remember the last time he jerked off. Maybe sometime before his middle kid got the flu? — Around a month ago, maybe. His nights since then had been primarily spent clearing up puke.

The sad part is, the thought only tends to occur to him when he’s at work. Home is always far too hectic. For a while now, he’s been stuck working late into the night with a boner while he’s flicking through candidate paperwork and flight logs.

Well, he’s thinking about it now, and he’s got the place all to himself. No locking himself in the bathroom and letting the shower run, trying to think of anything but the growing list of chores he has to do to keep this house functioning.

He swallows thickly.

He’ll tell the guys that they’re right. He needs to get back into the game; get his head on right, stop pining over his nanny. Tomorrow. For now, he lifts his hand and takes the underwear, smoothing the sheer mesh between his index and thumb. Closing his eyes, he hopes that you won’t notice they’re gone before he can return them.

He twists the cap off of an ice cold beer, leaves his boots neatly by the door and walks calmly upstairs. From there, he clicks his bedroom door shut and steadily takes himself out of his uniform, dropping it into his laundry hamper.

Finally, he settles down against his headboard with his phone in his hand and your panties in his lap.

Porn will make this better. It’s less weird if he’s not necessarily picturing your face. It’s not — but he might have a better chance at looking you in the eye later if he tells himself that.

Not that any of this feels exactly regular.

He inhales and shifts, and scrolls. Birds are still tweeting outside, singing early afternoon songs. His teeth nip at the inside of his cheek as he scrolls aimlessly until he finds a thumbnail that looks halfway doable.

All alone, the house feels especially quiet when the first moan spills from the speakers. He flinches at the sound and scrambles for the volume button, then hesitates. He doesn’t have to be quiet. He doesn’t even have to be ashamed. Shit, it’s a little late for that.

His brows knit together a bit, cocking his head as he examines the babbling girl on the phone screen. His hand stirs to life from where it had gone limp on his thigh, finding his cock through the grey fabric of his boxers. With one last cautious glance to his closed bedroom door, the silence beyond it confirms to him that he’s okay.

Wetting his lips with his tongue, he strokes himself over the material. The video isn’t particularly interesting, not when Bradley’s head can fill itself with far more interesting material at whim. His mind starts to wander back to that dream he’d had of you in the nurses outfit— that one had hit him hard, literally. He could barely look in your direction without getting hard for two days.

Soon enough, he’s hard and straining against the briefs. But that’s thinking about you, and that’s not allowed. He shifts restlessly and goes back to scrolling, palming himself absently. Finally, he comes across a video that sparks something. The thumbnail is of a girl with swollen lips and a cock in her mouth. It’ll do.

There we go. He huffs, that red-hot desperate feeling spreading down his neck and covering his shoulders. Making like it’s going to swallow him whole. Bradley lifts his hips to shuck down his boxers, tucking the waistband under his balls, still prepared for a hasty recovery at the sound of the garage door opening or something. He glances down at himself, remembering the days his thighs were narrower and more taut and he wasn’t noticing grey in his pubes.

If he wanted this done quick and fast, he’d spit hard into the centre of his palm and get to work. It’s been a long time since it hasn’t had to be quick. He thinks he has— he turns a bit and pulls open the drawer of his bedside table, rummaging blindly at the back until he comes up with what he’s looking for — lube. It’s practically full, not like he has been using it much.

A drop in the middle of his hand is enough, he figures. Turning his attention back to this new video, he settles, cupping the weight of his shaft in the palm of his hand. He gives it one slow pump, following the length, coating himself a bit. Real slow, his eyes study the screen, working the lubricant against his skin.

The actress bobs her mouth around the on-screen cock enthusiastically, moaning around him, raking her fingertips along his thighs. He locks his fist around himself, warm and tight, wet. It’s not a mouth but it’s the closest he has felt in a long time. If he closes his eyes, it could be your mouth.

You’d take him slowly, at first, ease him into it with that taunting nature you’ve let him glimpse at. He wouldn’t close his eyes; wouldn’t take ‘em off you. His hand steadies into a lazy rhythm, picturing the way you’d look up at him through your lashes.

The way you’d suck, and flick your tongue across his swollen tip. He shivers as he swipes his thumb through the precum beading there, stroking it all the way back down, stuck on imagining what it would feel like with your saliva joining the mix.

A pleased, feminine hum of approval comes from his phone and Bradley’s body responds just as eagerly, his hips twitching into the thrust of his palm. Sweat beads at his forehead as he slows to the point of almost stopping, dragging this out — making a point of exploiting his time alone.

He blinks hazily and finds a glimpse of blue, remembering suddenly the souvenir he had taken. The pitiful scrap of fabric he’s so wound up over sits against his thigh, looking suddenly small in comparison to his cock. He lets himself go and grabs hold of the fabric firmly, balling it tightly in his fist.

The soft lace bristles at his palm. Freshly laundered, they don’t smell of anything but detergent. It plays to the weaker side of him, gnawing at him, leaving him desperate to have something beyond what’s in his head. To know your smell, your tastes, your sounds. He shudders as he wraps a hand snugly around himself once more, this time, with an added layer of lace and soft mesh.

His head falls backwards, mouth hanging. Like this, it’s even easier to pretend. The image of you straddling his thighs, rocking your pussy against him while wearing nothing but these has him finally relaxed. Zen, even. A groan dies in his through, coming out more as a deep and baited sigh. He lift his hips, fucking into his fabric tangled fist.

Sometime between picking up your panties and now, the video has moved on without him, the blowjob forgotten. If he was to open his eyes, he would find that she’s on her back, being fucked into a mattress. He doesn’t need to. Stars burst behind his eyelids as he steadies up to the rhythm of her moans, skin hitting skin.

You’ve been living here four months now and you haven’t stayed out once. He wonders if you’re as wound up as he is. If you’ve thought about him the way he thinks of you. How downright desperate you’d sound moaning against his pillows while he finally gets to feel you. His left hand jumps, grabbing a firm fistful of the sheets beside him.

The shame he feels has been checked at the door, he lets himself think that you might have looked at him, that you might want him. He chases the feeling, his chest heaving with heavy breaths. Pumping the blue mesh around his cock, imagining you rocking yourself on him. Something gentler, more spry. It feels good. You’d feel good.

His imagination is better than he gave himself credit for.

His wrist twitches and he slows, feeling his thighs tighten as his heels press into his mattress for leverage. He chokes out a sound that he won’t admit is closer to a whimper than anything else, panting hard as he lets the rush ebb a bit. Pursing his lips, he draws out a slow exhale.

His mouth hangs open, eyes dipping to watch himself loosen up with the material, finding himself with just his bare palm once again. He takes the blue fabric in his left, opening it up and examining the dampened marks of his precum and the lube.

Just like that, he’s back in the guest room — your room — and you’re wearing that blue set. It’s dampened like this, but not because he has made a mess of it, not yet. Because you have. You’re soaking through it, looking up at him with that awe-struck look on your face. Your mouth open wide but this time there’s no red popsicle.

“Fuck.”

“Shit.” You whisper, catching the diaper bag that had almost fallen from your shoulder as you cradle the sleeping infant against your chest. Quiet as a mouse, you click open the front door and toe off your shoes.

She’s dead-weight in your arms, probably drooling on your shoulder. Her two older siblings will be causing all kinds of mischief and consuming sugar in all of its forms at their cousin’s birthday party for the next three hours. Given that the party lines up almost exactly with the fifteen-month-old’s nap routine, you figured you would take her home to rest so that you could get around to putting away that laundry you had started.

You’ve got a thousand things on your mind. A million things to do before Bradley gets home that evening. Truthfully, you’re a thousand miles away as you stroll upstairs and walk to the far end of the hall to the nursery. You lay her down and adjust the baby monitor, setting up her white noise machine routinely.

Her bedroom door clicks shut behind you and you take a moment to consider your priorities. Laundry takes precedence, even though you want so desperately to crawl into bed and sleep for an hour. You huff, groaning to yourself as you walk back downstairs to find the basket you had abandoned.

As you round the stairs and walk through the hallway, a choked sound spills from under the wood of Bradley’s door, something deep and breathless. Already halfway to the kitchen, you don’t hear a thing.

The video stopped a while ago but Bradley had stopped watching it even earlier. His head is thrown back and his lips are parted, his features creased in concentration as he chases his high. He thrusts into his fist, white-knuckling your panties with his free hand, his heart thundering in his chest. “God, fuck.”

He doesn’t have a clue that he isn’t alone anymore. He didn’t hear the minivan, he didn’t hear the front door. He doesn’t hear you rush back up the stairs with the hamper hiked against your hip.

He walked in on you. He stopped, and he stared. You were interrupted, so you can’t blame him for slamming the door shut. He’d missed, or ignored the signals since. The looks, the touches, staying up with him until your eyelids are so heavy that they’re barely open because he’s kind of an insomniac. Nothing. You’ve been beyond curious, desperate to know if he has been blowing you off on purpose or if he’s just clueless.

Clueless yourself, armed to put away freshly folded t-shirts, you grab the door handle and push it open. He works late, always. He’s rarely home before bedtime on work days. He told you this morning that he’d try not to wake you when he came in. And yet — there he is.

You get a glimpse of him before he registers the click of the door, before he spots you. Brows furrowed, eyes screwed shut, his curls dampened and hugging his forehead. Sunlight catches on the beads of sweat as they trail his glistening middle, spilling across his strong, softened middle. Broad shoulders flexed, the veins in his right arm straining through the skin, fucking his palm.

He reacts quickly, but there’s little that can be done. His eyes spring open and his hand releases himself, his body flushing a deeper shade of red at once. Thighs spread, he doesn’t have much time to cover himself before the door whips shut again.

You press your back to the door, staring at the ceiling. On either sides of it, you each have a moment of silent consideration.

“… are you okay?” He asks weakly.

He gets a soft squeak of acknowledgement as an answer and starts to wonder how you’ll ever be able to talk to him again. God, he hopes you don’t quit. The kids love you, and you’re incredible, you make his life liveable. His mind races, trying to come up with some kind of way to fix what you just saw. Everyone masturbates, it’s normal, it’s healthy—

“Was— Was that my underwear?”

Shit, Bradley thinks, he’s done for. There’s no coming back from this. You’re going to tell every nanny in the state that he’s a creep and work is going to eat him alive while he tries to juggle three kids alone. He curses breathlessly, fixing his underwear to cover himself and pushing himself out of bed.

He’s stuck for a second, considering if it would be better to give you time or to go after you. His eyes widen as the door clicks again, and pushes slowly open.

Your eyes rake over him, standing tall at the foot of his bed in nothing but his boxer-briefs. Still, regrettably, balled into his left hand, is your underwear. Powder-blue. He follows your gaze and looks down at the fabric, cursing his own stupidity, wondering if it’s too late to drop them.

You wet your lips with your tongue as your gaze flickers across. He closes his eyes and wills it to go away — he had just been so close, so caught up in it. It’s still rock hard, straining against the grey fabric, dampened at the tip with a spot of precum.

All of those signals and efforts come to a head. After four months of pining, you can’t just wander downstairs like this never happened. Laundry can wait. “You want a hand?”

…

tags: @royal-sunflower @redbarn1995 @atarmychick007 @jessicab1991 @seitmai @bellaireland1981 @roosterbruiser @tenderly-hopeful-collection @bradshawsbaddie @tgmavericklover @cevansbaby-dove @lyn-js @mynameismckenziemae @perpetuelledaydreaming @diorrfairy @sparklehippie17 @heatherbabees @prettiewittie @forgiveliv @oleksiak-pettersson @illegalxhood @fantasticpeacestarfish @rockstxr-x @d0main-expansion @diorsmores @mydarlingrose @sticksticklettuxe @alrightyyaphrodite @bowchickawowowww @aquafairy777 @eternallyvenus @maxwell-era @devil-angel-winchester @roosterishot @rosiahills22 @literally-iconic @brinaaa10 @foggyturtleknightangel @a-serene-place-to-be @aragorn-02 @sunflowercharlie13

If your name is here but isn’t tagged, it may be your settings that won’t allow me to tag you fully!

[ohtobeleah]

Roughing It // JS x BB x Reader

Summary: Jake Seresin begged you, his best friend to go camping with him and Bradley Bradshaw—but not for the innocent reasons you might think. A simple camping trip turns into something much more unholy. Callsign— Giggles

Warnings: Jake Seresin x F!Reader. Bradley Bradshaw x F!Reader. Unprotected sex. Male receiving oral. Choking. MxMxF Threesome. Creampie. Obvious power dynamics.

Word Count: 5.7k

Author Note: Happy Sunday—AKA, the Lords day. This is Roughing It’s 3rd rewrite & by far my favourite re-write & fandom. Enjoy Sluts.

In the quiet of the warm afternoon light that cascaded across Jake Seresin's living room—you found a spot in the warm orange hume to curl up on the lounge. You settled on your comfort movie—TopGun, Maverick. Your clammy hand caressed the TV remote as you pressed play, the opening sequence still and always would send chills through your body as you watched the carrier out to sea appear on the large crisp screen like you’d watched a million times before and would probably watch a million times more. 

“High— way to the danger zone—“ You mumbled along as you settled in a little deeper, trying to will the inappropriate thoughts away. To say you were nervous was an understatement, neither you and Jake or you and Bradley had spoken about the events that had transpired a week ago and either of the two men who you’d had some of the roughest sex of your life with, no pun intended, had looked at you the same since. 

“Just come over and hang out, Gigs?” You could hear Jake's voice in your head as you sat and tried to focus on the movie playing in front of you. “You’ve been avoiding me like the damn plague.” 

There was a reason for that—

You couldn’t tell if Jake and Bradley were looking at you in disgust and regret at the thought of what the three of you had done or if they were just looking for an opportunity to have their way with you again. From fleeting glances in the halls or eyes that burned into the back of your head in the change rooms. Either way, it made you crave the two naval aviators more than you cared to admit. 

It all happened so fast, you couldn’t remember exactly how it started but the one thing you knew for sure was that Jake was the one who imitated it. He’d been thinking about it for a hell of a long time before he put his plan into action too. 

***~***~***~***

“For crying out loud Giggles! you complain more than Bradshaw does.” Jake huffed as he stood and turned away from where the two of you had been sitting on the camp log. “My god you’re driving me insane!” He groaned out as you turned your head to follow his trajectory. You could physically hear the frustration laced in Jake's tone of voice. “Just cut it out for like five minutes will ya?” Jake tried to level with you the best he could as he went around and grabbed a stray stick, he poked at the fire with it as he watched the bright orange embers fly into the night sky. You scoffed, cleaning the bowls from the delightful dinner of canned chicken soup and roasted vegetables. 

“Bite my fucking ass, Seresin, maybe if you didn’t try to feed me cold inedible canned soup for dinner I wouldn’t be in such a pissy mood!” Jake Seresin had proven himself time and time again—he was a shocking cook. “You barely even followed the instructions! How hard is it to heat up a can of soup!” 

“You haven’t stopped the entire day!” Jake felt his emotions running rampant after an exhausting day or setting up for the trip the three of you had been planning for weeks. You, Jake and Bradley had all aligned your work commitments to spend a few days in the wilderness together, off the grid, no phones and away from prying eyes. It was a much needed break from the world—the navy, F-18’s, commitments and Fanboys latest obsession with the new star wars movie. 

Pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger, Jake couldn’t help but to raise his voice at you, he poked and prodded with the fire for a few moments more before he let his inhibitions get the better of him. Before Jake really knew what he was doing, his feet were taking him on a mission of their own, marching him over to where you were washing the used pots and pans out 

“I’ve got a headache from your incessant complaining.” Seething, Jake towered over you from behind. His muscular build that rivals Adonis himself blocked the soft light of the moon. Watching as you shrugged him off with a simple eye roll–Jake didn't take well to being shrugged off so nonchalantly like your attitude wasn't a massive pain in his arse. He’d known you for the better half of ten years and you’d always been on his ‘fuck it’ list. 

“Then fucking leave me alone then!? God, it’s like you didn’t beg me to come with you guys even though you damn well know I hate everything associated with camping.” You let Jake have it as you placed the dirty pot you were working on into the soaping lukewarm later before you turned to face Jake completely. “You have a problem with my complaining, but you complaining about my complaining is worse than any complaining I've done.” Jake scoffed as you pushed your index finger into his chest– the action alone made him bite his tongue. He was as hard as a rock and felt like he could snap at any second. He wanted you, so bad. He needed to feel you. 

“Come on Hangman, just let me get this shit done and we can go to bed.” You tried to soften the mood, you could see very clearly in Jake's emerald green eyes that he was ready to fight. His chest was puffed, his feet were firm and his jar was sharp–clenched tight to keep himself from speaking thoughts he only ever thought about when he was alone and jerking himself off into existence. “Go to bed–I'll be right behind you.” You smiled softly before you patted Jake's chest three times with a gently open palm before you turned back to where you had been working away at the dishes. “You know, you’re kinda acting like you want me to bitch and moan your ear off? You shoul–”  Before you could finish your sentence, Jake's large and slightly calloused hand wrapped around your jaw. He covered your mouth as he pressed his chest against your back and held you securely against him by bringing his other arm around your waist. breathing heavily through your nose your eyes widened when you felt Jakes hard on press against the small of your back, you couldn’t process what was happening fast enough. 

Jake had seen his opportunity and taken it. The two of you had always had sexual tension but you refused to do anything about it for the sake of your own image. He was a great friend, a questionable wingman at times, but Jake Seresin had never been a guy on your roster. Until now when your sexual tension reached new peaks and Jake finally cracked under the pressure. 

All it took was an off grid camping trip 

“Maybe I needed an excuse to finally fuck that pretty mouth of yours.” Jake groaned as he felt you shudder under his touch. “I always find myself jerking off to the thought of your lips around me.” His warm breath fanned across the supple skin of your neck before he softly pressed his lips to the juncture of your neck–leaving a gentle kiss against your collarbone that sent instant goosebumps over you like a shock tsunami. “The thought of what your lips would feel like wrapped around me Gigs really makes me question my sanity.” A soft whimper escaped your mouth and vibrated against  the palm of Jake's hand. “But you already know that, you always have, haven't you?” 

“Hey Guys?” Bradley called out from inside the tent to where he knew you and Jake were. All Jake did was press himself further into your back and hold his hand against your mouth a little tighter, willing you to keep quiet as he responded to Rooster.

“What's up Bradshaw, I thought you went to bed ages ago?” 

“Well I tried but your bickering back and forth was kinda hard to ignore–” Neither you nor Jake could contest that statement. “Just try not to kill each other out there, please? And shut the fuck up!” 

“We’re good, aren't we Y/n?” Jake replied as he reluctantly pulled his hand away from your mouth. This was your chance to tell Jake to rack off. This was your chance to tell him you didn't want any of this, that he’d read you wrong and it had all been innocent fun. But he hadn’t read you wrong, you wanted Jake just as badly as he wanted him. You were just too afraid to admit it. 

“Yeah, we’re good.” You added to Jake's surprise. It was all the confirmation he needed. “Night Rooster!” It didn't take long for Jake to spring into action, he was desperate and needed to get you out of his system before you had a chance to fully infect his entire being. If the two of you fucked and got it out of your system, then he could still walk away unscathed. There were feelings bubbling under the surface but Jake Seresin didn't do feelings. 

“Why’d you bring me out here?” You asked as you turned around to face Jake. “You could’ve just asked me to suck you off in the comfort of your own bed?” There wasnt an awful lot of space left between the two of you as you stood shrouded in the soft glow of the moonlight. You made your move and wrapped your arms up and around Jake's shoulders, he followed suit and mirrored your actions by closing the gap, your lips now ghosted his as Jake smiled against you. “I'm sure if you had asked me to, I would have played into your dirty little fantasies.” You could feel Jake trying to kiss you, but much to his display and desperate attempts to feel your lips on his you kept your playful smirk smeared across your face and pulled further away. “I can assure you that whatever fantasy you've concocted that gets you off at night, the real things ten times better.” 

“Just” Jake paused, his hands gripped at your waist to pull you flush against him. He couldn't risk you getting away from him. Not now. “Just didn’t wanna risk the neighbours putting in a noise complaint.” Giggling, you made the move to connect your lips against Jake’s. A heated, passion filled kiss had you both gripping at different parts of each other’s bodies as you walked back closer towards the tent, specifically the fallen tree in front of it.

You pushed Jake down by guiding him with a gentle hand on his shoulder–there was not a single part of his being that objected to your dominance. He felt his dick twitch inside his sweats at the action. You stood before him for a second with a wicked smirk across your face. Jake knew you were into this just as much as he was. 

“Are you just gonna stand there Giggles or are you gonna get to work?” Jake teased you as he trailed a hand up between your legs. “I'm dying here.” You waisted not a second longer as you dropped gracefully to your knees before him. You played with the elastic of Jake's sweats as he helped you wiggled them down his toned and oh so muscular legs–pulling them down towards his ankles until there was nowhere left for them to go except discharged and forgotten about. With a slight chuckle, you gripped his hardened length in your right hand, barely moving your palm up and down his shaft just to watch him swim under your warm touch. 

“Fuck–” Jake sighed in relief as you slowly moved your palm. It was barely nothing, the pad of your thumb swiped across his leaking tip to collect some of his pre cum. The essence of Sersin. “Fucking christ–”  

“Going commando, something you do regularly, Hungman?” You made sure to tease the man putty in your hands before taking his tip in your mouth, you rolled your tongue gently over his flushed tip. Pink and bright and oh so sensitive. The colour of his lips. Sensitive and begging for your unconditional attention. 

“Nah, just somethin’--” Jake couldn't think straight, he couldn’t formulate a full sentence as you worked your hand over him, jerking him off slowly but perfectly. “Oh my god–” Jake moaned, too caught up in the pleasure you were giving him as you took him deeper down your throat, inch by inch, so far down your tiny throat, his manscaped pubic hair tickled the tip of your nose. “Gifs—fuckin’ Christ, where did you learn how to do that?” His voice was raspy and heavy as he tried to control his breathing. His hand made a makeshift ponytail with your hair as you bobbed up and down, gagging softly around Jake's cock as it twitched and leaked pre-cum onto your tongue. With your watery eyes, so lust filled and dowy peering up at him, Jake thought for sure he’d entered the gates of  heaven. 

“Sounds like someone’s a little bit jealous of those who got to cum before you Seresin.” You took Jake's saliva coated cock from your mouth and pumped him with your hand, he watched through hooded eyes as you took both his balls in your mouth softly as you began to glide your tongue gently over the sensitive skin. “Taste so good Jake—“ 

“Fuck—“ This was everything Jake Seresin had fantasised about. “Yess—Y/n, oh my god.'' Jake wasn’t being discreet at all, his moans filled the campground and echoed off the mountains as you jerked his thick throbbing cock and sucked so delicately on his balls. In hindsight, it wasn’t the smartest idea to give Jake head right in front of the tent you both planned on sharing with Bradley Bradshaw. It was needless to say—you’d fucked up. 

As you went back to take Jake entire cock down your throat, you closed your eyes as they watered. Never stopping for a moment to see the familiar silhouette of Bradley standing just behind Jake, watching on as his best friend gave some of the sloppiest head to his other best friend he’d ever seen. He didn’t know how to truly feel about the sight unfolding before him, but Rooster surely felt the strain of his sweats becoming a little more noticeable with every passing second. 

The second Jake saw Bradley, he tried shooing him off, mouthing a soft “fuck off” as he tried to hold his orgasm back. He looked sucked out as all hell and you’d only given him head. He didn’t think he was prepared for how you’d feel fluttering around his length. 

“Uhh! Fuck Giggles, keep doin’ that and I’m going to cum down that pretty fucking throat of yours.” Jake confessed, his hand helped to guide your head down his shaft as you gagged and hummed around him. Bradley’s eyes widened as he made himself scarce, shocked at the sight he just saw. He couldn’t see you like that, he wasn’t Jake. He couldn’t take advantage of you. He couldn’t ruin you like he’d always wanted to. 

“That’s the point Jake, don’t hold back, flood my throat.” You looked up through your lashes, looked up to see Jake's flushed face as his mouth fell open into an O shape, his eyes trained on you as you went back to furiously sucking his cock, hard and fast. Your other hand continued fondling his balls, squeezing them slightly as his orgasm approached. 

“Fuck! Shit, ahhh- Y/n m’cumming, fuck, fuck ohhhh—!” Jake's orgasm washed over him. He could feel the pool at the base of his shaft beginning to overflow, ready to explode. When he did he shot deep down your throat in hot spirits as his cock twitched in your mouth. Jake's entire body stilled as he fell victim to his orgasm, the intense wave of pleasure took over his entire being as he let out a prolonged moan. All consuming. 

“Holy fuck.” Jake sighed heavily as he tried to catch his breath after coming down from his high. He watched as you swallowed his entire load, licking the tip of his swollen length,  making sure nothing was left behind, that nothing was wasted.

“Did that live up to all those naughty thoughts?” You questioned as you sat back on your heels, watching as Jake pulled his sweatpants back up his toned legs—missing the sight of him the second he was covered. 

“Oh” Jake exclaimed, a smile appeared wide and wild on his crimson flushed face as his free hand worked to push back his slightly damp hair. “That exceeded everything I ever thought it would be like.” You nodded, proud of your efforts as you rose to your feet, standing between Jake's legs as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. His hands immediately helped your hips still so you couldn’t move. 

He wasn’t done with you yet. 

“Hope it doesn’t change anything between us?” You asked softly, leaning over to plant your lips against his, the slight taste of his cum still evident and present on your swollen lips. Tasting himself for the first time, Jake didn’t quite mind. It made his heart pump with lust and adrenaline as anticipation for what was to come lingered in the air. 

“That won’t change anything.” He whispered into your open mouth, his forehead rested against yours as you maneuvered yourself down to straddle his waist. “But once I watch you suck Rooster off while I fuck that tight cunt I know you’ve got, might be a different story.” Before you could answer, you heard what sounded like Bradleys metal water bottle falling to the ground from inside the tent.

“What!?” Bradley shouted as you did the same, only softer yet just as confused. Jake didn’t just say that—did he? 

“C’mon Gigs,” Jake smirked as he placed some of your freely flowing hair behind your ear. “Bradley saw what you just did and I know he has the same twisted thoughts as me, s’not fair now is it?”

You didn’t respond right away as Jake moved your jumper to the side and kissed at your collarbone—the moonlight danced across his tones shoulders as you mulled over his proposal. To be completely objectifying, Bradley Bradshaw was incredibly attractive. You couldn’t deny you’d thought about him from time to time when you found yourself alone and in need of a release. You just thought it was completely out of the realm of possibility. 

Turns out with Jake's help, it wasn’t. 

“I guess not.” You answered meekly before kissing Jake once more, your tongue dancing with his gracefully, like you were searching for his soul and he yours. Jake waisted not a second more as he picked you up and had you straddle his waist. He walked you over to the small two-man that was inevitably going to be a three man tent and dropped you to your feet at the door. 

“Bradshaw, you have a total of five seconds to open this door before I change my mind on sharing.” As Jake spoke through the tent door, you began taking your jumper off, exposing your bare chest to him, his jaw hanging open when he noticed your perky tits. Kissed by the chill of the cool night. 

“Oh fuck.” His voice was unrecognisably low and full of lust. “Maybe I shouldn’t be so keen on sharing you.” His hand came out to grip your right nipple between his index finger and thumb as Bradley opened the door, already naked and hard as ever. A slight wince left your lips from the sudden pinch Jake gave your nipple as he rolled it between the pads of his index finger and thumb. 

“I uh—“ Bradley stuttered, rubbed at the back of his head like a school boy who’d been caught writing crude and inappropriate comments on his desk. “I was already jerking off after I saw you take Jake balls deep in your throat.” Bradleys cock twitched against his lower abdomen as he sat back awkwardly. He’d only reached up to unzip the tent door. 

Jake pulled hard against your nipple, making you walk closer to him before shoving you gently into the tent, a sinful smile grew upon your face as Bradley lost his positioning and fell back, welcoming you into the tiny room as he reached out to stop you from falling on top of his. He looked all kinds of nervous, worried even. 

“S’okay Rooster.” You cooed innocently enough for him to let his guard down slightly. “I promise I won't bite unless you want me to.” You teased, dropping to your knees before him while Bradley worked quickly to lay down on his back, hands resting behind his head. 

“I can't believe we’re fucking doing this? This is crazy we shouldn’t I mean, c’mon Jake it's Y/n for fuck sake, she’s our bes–” Bradley couldnt finish his sentence, the second your lips were taking the tip of his throbbing length inside your warm mouth he lost all sense of insecurity about the situation. Nothing else mattered expert for your excerpt touch. The sensation of euphoria you bought him. “Oh holy shit” Your hand wrapped tightly around the base of this shaft as your tongue ran up the thick vein that ran up his entire shaft. Your lips felt heavenly around his sensitive and exposed, pre-cum covered tip and before Rooster could even wrap his mind around what it truly was extracurricular activities he was about to engage in–you had sunk lower and lower, taking every inch of his thick cock in your mouth. 

Without hesitation. 

Bradley tip was slightly darker than Jakes, you didn’t need much time at all for your throat to adjust to the foreign object making its presence known in the back of your throat over and over again due to you just having just finished sucking the life from Jake. You were prepped and ready to be whatever they needed you to be under the stars and away from the hullabaloo of Miramar. Tonight you weren't Lieutenant Y/n Giggles Y/L/N–you were Hangman and Roosters little fuck toy. 

You got to work in no time, gagging and roughly sucking up and down Bradley’s entire shaft, watching through hooded eyes as Bradley moaned and groaned uncontrollably from the pleasure he was receiving. You were between his legs as he reached out for your head, guiding you down his length. You felt Jake's hands come to the waistband of your sweatpants, he pulled them down as your mouth continued to bob up and down on Bradley’s cock. 

“Huh?'' Jake scoffed as he bit hard on his bottom lip. “Going commando, something you do regularly, Giggles?” He teased as his large slightly calloused hands slid up and over your peachy ass as it stuck up in the air, ready for his length to slide in your drenched cunt. Smiling around Bradley’s cock you gaged slightly. Pumping Bradley’s shaft with your hand as you went to answer Jake. You could very much feel his tip gliding over your dripping lips from behind. You were ready and oh so needy for him to fill your needy little pussy. 

“Nah, just something—“ You began to mimic what Hangman had told you before, but you didn't have enough time to give him attitude before you felt Jake push himself between your slick folds. He trusted his thick cock inside you, slowly, he stretched your tight pussy out so much so it almost stung. But it felt good, oh so fucking good.  “Ahhh fuck!” You cried around Bradley’s cock now balls deep down your throat. It was a position you never thought you’d find yourself in. Sucking Bradley’s cock while Jake took you from behind, taking both your best friends at the same time.

“You like this Y/n? like how we both fuck you?“ Jake asked as he bottomed out inside your tight cunt, he could feel you clench around the bottom of his cock, tip pressed against your cervix. Bradley roughly pulled you up by your hair, watching as spit trailed from your bottom lip to his swollen tip. With a needy gasp, you looked up at him wickedly, begging him to use you just with a lustful look. 

“Answer the question Y/n, do you like the way we both fuck you?” Bradley’s voice had turned into a low deep growl, his eyes had darkened from the dust brown you were familiar with to a near black mirage, full of lust unlike moments ago when he almost backed out–unsure of the decision he made to fuck his best friend. As Jake's hands gripped your hips and began to thrust faster in and out of you, you moaned in response. 

“Uh huh, l love the way you both feel ohh—god Jake you’re so big, fuck me–” Hearing you moan how big his cock was sent Jake into the stratasphere with his ego in toe, with your encouragement he began to fuck you harder, with more force. Bradley forced your head back down onto his cock, both his hands guiding your head up and down using your hair. Like you were his personal flesh light. 

“You weren’t fucking wrong man, her mouths so damn good.” Bradley’s hips beginning to lift off the ground as he fucked your mouth. Stopping every few minutes to pull you off him just so he could look at how pretty your fucked face looked. Your tears were so beautiful, all because of him. 

“Wait till you feel her tight cunt, fuck so tight its almost hard to move.” Jake was relentlessly pounding into you, the sound of his balls smacking against the curve of your ass could be heard in the silence that lingered between grunts and unapologetically loud moans of pure ecstasy. 

“Jake! Please, I'm gonna cum!” You cried, the coil within your core had begun to tighten every time Jakes tip pressed against your cervix. Bradley sat up, his hand came flying to your mouth as he shoved three of his digits inside your mouth, opening your jaw wide before leaning in close to you.

“That’s it Y/n, cum around Hangman’s cock so I can fuck you harder, fuck you till you black out, fuck you till your begging for me to stop.” Bradleys words had you nearly ascending as he coaxed you towards your high with just his words. “I wanna feel how tight your cunt is.”

“Rooster, choke her when she cums–” Jake ordered, Bradley waisted not a second as he wrapped his hand around throat and pressed his fingers into the side of your supple neck. He reached between your legs to softly rub small circles over your sensitive bundle of nerves, an instantaneous quiver left your throat as his finger made contact, Bradley never for a second took his eyes off yours. He wanted to see you come undone like this, all for him and Jake. Just for him and Jake. 

“Ahh! F-fuck, m’cumming!” You whimpered as Braldey tightened his hold on your throat, he could see the small veins appearing in your forehead from the lack of oxygen but knew by the look in your eyes alone that you were loving this just as much as he was. Your pussy clenching so tightly around Jake's slicked up cock he almost stilled from the grip. 

“Ahh fuck! Rooster, holy fuck she’s like a vice!” Jake groaned as he fucked you hard through your high. “She’s creaming around my dick, fuck—” This had been Jake Seresin greatest idea, to fuck his best friends.

Bradley began to fuck your face with the same fingers he’d teased your clit with, he made you gag on them as your eyes rolled into the back of your head, trembling as you came hard around Jakes cock. Once he saw you coming down from your high, Bradle tentatively removed his hand from around your throat, watching with wide eyes as you gasped heavily for air, welcoming the new wave of oxygen that you’d been deprived of into your lungs. Tears streamed down your fucked out face. 

“Jake let me fuck her—“ Bradley whimpered out desperately as he pumped his cock fast. He waited for Jake to pull out and share, but he was ready to explode. He gripped your chin with a wicked glare as he squashed your lips together. “You don't know what you're in for, baby.”  It was a warning but you quivered with excitement nevertheless before Rooster stuck the pad of his thumb between your lips and spat into your mouth, rubbing your bottom lip with his thumb. “You’re gonna ride my dick.” Bradley told you with no hesitation evident in his tone as you nodded with eagerness. Jake pulled out of you with a hard slap to your right ass cheek, causing you to let out a whine.  

“Ah!” You hissed as the sting lingered well after Jakes had left your ass, you immediately crawled closer to Bradley and straddled his waist, you manoeuvred his length to line up with your creaming entrance. Jake wasted no time in coming to stand above Bradley, his cock throbbing, ready to explode yet again as he moved your sweat covered hair to one side.

“Uhh fuck!” You whined as you sunk onto Bradley’s slightly thicker cock, his hands roamed your naked body as Jake pulled your mouth back onto his cock, needy for your mouth yet again.

“Holy fuck! Ah fuck, fuck, fuck, god you're so tight! So fuckin’ tight Y/n ride my dick just like that, yes—!” Bradley mumbled, continuously biting his bottom lip as he felt you bounce on his cock. He was in heaven, you were the best pussy he’d ever had. 

“Told you.” Jake moaned from above, his hands held onto both sides of your face as he bucked his hips softly into your throat, letting you do most of the work as he focused on chasing his second high of the night. “Slap her ass.” And so Bradley did, he slapped your ass over and over, harder every time you came down on his cock, the sting was so deep you knew you’d have a reminder of the night the come morning.

“Fuck can I cum inside you? fuck please say yes?” Bradley whimpered as you rode him, Jake took his cock from your mouth before slapping it against your open and awaiting tongue.

“Answer him!” He hissed, so close to his second orgasm it was making his eyes water and his knees weak. 

“Y-yes fuck, Rosoter! flood my fucking pussy, please!” You cried out into the secluded tent, completely exhausted and fucked out. Bradley gripped at your hips before bending his knees, fucking up into you so hard and fast you fell forward onto Jakes cock, deep throating him unexpectedly and bringing him to that sweet sweet orgasm he’d been chasing. 

“Oh fuck fuck fuck!” Jake groaned, pulling his cock from your mouth and pulling your hair back, exposing your entire face in front of him as he pumped his throbbing cock in his hand, hot spurts of cum were quick to come flying all over your fucked-out face. “Arrgghhh yes baby that's it, look so pretty covered in my cum.” 

Jakes cum completely covered your face, a facial so thick it dripped down your chin and neck as it slowly made its way to your perky tits.��

“Oh god you look so fucking hot like that.” Jake confessed, running this thumb over your bottom lip to collect some of his cum before making you suck it off. Bradley wasn’t far behind, never slowing his thrust for a second while Jake unloaded all over your face.

“M’cummingRoo! Fuck don’t stop!” You gasped aloud, your voice broke as you reached between Bradley and yourself to rub your throbbing sensitive bud. “Aaah- fuck yes!” You moaned a heavenly near pornographic groan as you came hard around Bradley Bradshaw, squirting unexpectedly all over him in the process.

“Yes! Yes! Oh fuck I’m uhhh—“ Bradley spilled his entire load into your tight cunt, creating a mixture of your cum and his as Jakes dripped from your face down your chest.

“What— what fuck just happened?” You all asked each other as both Jake and Bradley cleaned you off, completely taken aback at the events that had just passed now that your need and lust had begun to fade. 

***~***~***~***

You didn’t know at what part of the movie you fell deep into thought, reminiscing about the camping trip you took a week ago with your best friends but it was the sound of Jake’s voice that brought you out of it, only to realise you had been rubbing your sensitive bundle of nerves the entire time, right there on his lounge. Hand sunk low into your sweats. 

“And what do you think you’re doing?” He questioned, leaning against the wall casually before he began sauntering over to you with a devilish smirk upon his face.  

“I uh, I uh don’t” You stuttered, fumbling around as you sat up. You knew you had been caught, but you still tried your best to act like you had no idea what he was talking about. “How long were you just standing there watching me for like some weirdo?” Jake ignored your question. He was on a mission. 

“Were you thinking about our camping trip?” Jake asked as he slowly walked over, unbuckling his belt as you noticed the hard girth showing through his dress pants, having just come back from a meeting. He was so hard it looked painful. It was painful. You looked down at Jake's crotch for a little too long, then up, down then back up, Jake’s eyes had been locked on you the entire time. Working to stand before you—his belt slipping around your neck as he tightened the loop. His hand guided yours over his clothes cock—begging for your touch. 

“Or was it just me?”

[lieutenantfloyd]

The Little things with Husband! Rooster ♡

Husband! Rooster who insists on cooking dinner every night (even though he’s terrible at it)

Husband! Rooster who teaches you songs on the piano. 

Husband! Rooster who who hangs back at the table/bar when you go out together, but always has his eye on you.

Husband! Rooster who's ultimate sign of trust and devotion is when he lets you trim his mustache.

Husband! Rooster who holds your hand under the dinner table.

Husband! Rooster who hoists you up on his shoulders each Christmas to put the star on the tree.

Husband! Rooster who tied bits of string and straw wrappers around your ring finger each time he had them, until he mustered up the courage to propose.

Husband! Rooster who swears to become the best man he can for you, and starts by seeing a counselor for his trauma.

Husband! Rooster who sleeps as close to you as humanely possible (and would probably sleep on top of you if you let him)

Husband! Rooster who lets you plan all your dates, not because he doesn't care, but because he's perfectly happy doing anything with you.

Husband! Rooster who wakes you up early on the weekends to go to the farmers market.

Husband! Rooster who always opens the door for you.

Husband! Rooster who lets you borrow his sunglasses whenever it's sunny.

Husband! Rooster who nearly had a panic attack the first time he introduced you to the daggers.

Husband! Rooster who ropes you into his spontaneous dance breaks.

Husband! Rooster who proposed with his parent's rings.

Taglist: @rosiahills22 @marchingicenotes7 @bayisdying @bella-law @callsignaries @blue-aconite @katesmadness @lisedanie @oliviah-25 @another-tblr-fangirl @luckyladycreator2 @eliseline @xoxabs88xox @fanboyluvr @lisedanie @alexxavicry @madamemelancholysstuff @dozcan123 @withakindheartx @nyx2021 @teti-menchon0604 @sass-masterkittenmama @bisexual-watermelons @kmc1989

[undiscovered-horizon]

"Whiskey sour? Classy." - Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader

[TW: insults, harassment, explicit language]

🫀REQUESTS ARE OPEN🫀 || TOPGUN-inspired playlist

SUMMARY: When new aviators arrive at the base, Rooster invites you to hang out with the Dagger Crew and the freshmen. One of the newcomers gets in over his head and Rooster gladly accepts the honour of bringing him down a peg: no one gets to talk trash to the eventual Mrs. Bradshaw.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 2k

"Hey, Bradshaw, where'd you leave wifey?" Hangman asked.

Although the group was disillusioned about the seriousness of your relationship, the nickname came into existence only after they witnessed you nagging at Bradley for being irresponsible after he came back with Maverick. Truthfully, he liked how it sounded - for you to be called his wife.

The Hard Deck was booming with life, filled with twice as many people as it usually was. It was supposed to be a sort of welcoming party for the newcomers but mixed with the locals - it was simply Miramar showing off its essence, the brash young blood pumping the town's atmosphere with new, exciting energy.

"Should be here any moment. Maybe I'll tell her you missed her."

"Careful, she might just run to me."

Bradley was about to continue the friendly scuffle with Jake but Pete tapped him on his shoulder and pointed you out in the crowd by the bar:

"Found your missus, kid."

For a moment, the whole world stopped just so Rooster could admire the woman he had the highest honour of calling his. You were wearing a thin bodycon dress - the very same one he associated with long, sleepless nights and the plethora of beautiful sounds you could make. The light, sunny yellow colour looked lovely on you, bringing summer heat into the onlookers' hearts. You wore the same makeup you always did, your hairdo wasn't different either but for some reason, spotting you in the faraway crowd, Bradley felt the same way he did the first time he saw you. He remembered how embarrassingly nervous he was and how his mouth dried out when you stared at him with a smile. From that day on, his condition was only getting worse.

"Just don't drool," Phoenix warned him. The group laughed and Rooster was momentarily brought back to the present day. The sound of cue balls hitting one other resounded in his ears together with the very bar-like sounds of laughter, the click of glass and 80s hits playing on the jukebox.

The game of pool resumed but not for long:

"Lieutenant Bradshaw, there's an enemy on the front line," Maverick announced while vaguely pointing towards your direction. With furrowed eyebrows, Bradley turned around to see what Pete was talking about. There you were: standing awkwardly next to one of the newcomers who was leaning against the bar. In a way, he understood the interest in your beauty. To him, you always looked like a star but Bradley was far from objective - he did, after all, give you those dreamy, puppy eyes of a fool in love while you were wearing a stained hoodie with your university's logo, sleeping and drooling on the pillow. "He's going for the kill, the very classy chest check."

Clenching his jaw, Bradley passed his cue to Bob, who gladly accepted it. The game of pool was temporarily withheld as the Dagger Crew watched the ordeal unfold with great interest. Rooster stormed through the crowd towards you and Maverick set his beer down, getting ready for the approaching 'overboard' or a fistfight.

You've never seen the Hard Deck packed the way it was that night. All the khaki uniforms were blending into one, beige mob, giving a quite humorous impression that it was you who was dressed inappropriately for a night out at a bar. Somehow, it made you happy to see Hard Deck bursting with life - for once, Miramar wasn't just a military town at the end of the world. Squeezing through the beige crowd, you finally reached the counter, only to be greeted by Penny's wide smile.

"Good to see you, (Y/N). Prince Charming's been waiting for you." She vaguely pointed towards the laughing group of aviators playing pool with too many people. Among the sea of military uniforms, Bradley's Hawaiian shirt looked adorably out of place. Although he looked better in blue, that grey shirt he was wearing had to be your favourite - the very same he wore when you met him for the first time.

"Oh, come off it," you laughed. A flustered blush warmed up your face. The rouge on your cheeks slightly camouflaged the flush.

"Hey, I'm not the one calling you wifey."

For a moment, your eyes were glued to Rooster, watching him just having fun with his friends. There wasn't a day where you didn't praise the whim of the cosmos for making Bradley love you. Penny laughed seeing the buttery look on your face. Honestly, she found it quite adorable that years had gone by, the two of you had grown older and matured but the hopeless love of your younger days still stayed around and threatened to never abandon its post. Despite that, she was grateful she didn't have to witness you at the start of your relationship when lovers tend to be more embarrassing than should be humanly possible.

"He could make a ring out of spit and cheese puffs and I'd say yes in a heartbeat," you confessed. Truthfully, the idea of actually marrying him had been haunting you for a few weeks. Those wandering thoughts were always cut short when your imagination began painting you and Bradley as parents, suddenly flustered with the seriousness of the daydreams.

"Now, don't go around giving him stupid ideas." Although it was meant as a scolding, Penny's amused tone made her words sound not serious. "Just tell him. Anyway, what will you have? The usual?"

"You're a woman after my own heart, Penny."

"That I am, sweetheart. One whiskey sour coming right up."

"Thank you!" you called after her.

Penny barely turned around to prepare your drink and serve another round of beers, when someone approached you:

"Whiskey sour, huh? Classy." The man was, too, wearing the khaki uniform. He was leaning against the bar, trying to appear all suave and nonchalant; the position made the muscles in his toned arms even more accentuated and you just knew he did it on purpose.

"I guess you could say that," you answered with a disinterested shrug. It was, after all, only a drink: nothing to gatekeep or make a competition out of. Whatever one drinks, the hangover always tastes the same. "The first drink I ever had."

"Then it must've been quite recently, no?" he asked with a grin. "You sure you're old enough to be here, little lady?"

"That's a strange way to say I look young." An awkward chuckle left your lips. You just wanted to deviate the conversation from further going down the uneasy lane. "Zeus?" you read from the patch on his uniform. "Where'd that come from?"

"The real answer is that I got electrocuted in the academy." After his explanation, the man's gaze audaciously dropped to the deep cleavage of your dress. A cold shiver of discomfort run down your spine. "The cool answer is that I'm just great with the ladies."

To your own, deepening horror, his eyes remained below your chin as he spoke. Did he really think it would work on someone?, you asked yourself. Some more naive part of you believed he was oblivious to his inappropriate behaviour or maybe he was being creepy just for the shock factor.

"Can you... stop staring at my breasts?" you asked awkwardly after a longer while. Uneasiness was dripping from your words and, judging by the livid expression on Rooster's face, not only from them.

Zeus scoffed and his self-assured grin momentarily turned into a strange mixture of lewdness and mischievousness, making your skin crawl.

"Come on, you want me to stare, doll," he said in a low voice. Zeus licked his lips and you felt your whole body tense up. Although he hadn't touched you, his awful way of being made you feel dirty - and not the kind one can scrub off in a hot shower. "If you didn't, you would've covered up."

"What the hell, man," you heard yourself saying. The situation was so odd and awkward, that you had no idea how to act. Flustered at the unwanted attention, words were stuck in your throat. You were telling yourself to go, just leave the man as fast as you could but for some strange reason, you found yourself unable to move like a deer caught in the headlights; only at that moment, the figure of speech could be taken quite literally.

"I know you're just teasing me, sweetheart," Zeus confessed as if he was letting you in on a big secret. "But I prefer a straight game."

Zeus reached for your bare shoulder but someone stopped him. Rooster's fingers were wrapped so tightly around the man's wrist, that their skin turned white. The sight of the familiar Hawaiian shirt allowed you to take a deeper, only slightly calmer, breath. Maybe Penny was partially right: he was Prince Charming, except for the off days when he part-timed as Knight In Shining Armor.

"How about you fuck off from my wife," Bradley gritted through his teeth. His face was red and you were left doubtless that it was the only colour he was currently seeing. There was no doubt that if nature gifted him with just a little less self-control, Zeus would be getting his own jaw dislocated.

"Chill, man," Zeus chuckled awkwardly and tried to force his hand out of Rooster's iron grip. His effort was in vain, a wince of pain slowly making its way unto his face. However, even bad circulation to his hand couldn't keep his audacity out. "Not my fault you let your wife leave the house dressed like that, amigo. And not my fault the girl doesn't wear a ring."

"Well, it's your fault you're a dickhead."

Still clutching Zeus' wrist, Rooster forcefully pulled him away from you. Penny began ringing the bell behind the counter, visibly pleasant at the turn of events. The other clients cleared the way from the bar to the door, already starting to chant 'overboard'.

"Welcome to TOP GUN, pal," Maverick said while he and Rooster grabbed the man under his arms. Together, they began dragging him out of the bar as the regulars cheered them on. "Rule number one: Mrs. Bradshaw is to be respected at all times."

Soon after that life lesson, Zeus was literally thrown out of the Hard Deck and the front door closed in his face. Some of the guests laughed at the interesting turn of events but the general majority went back to their drinks, used to the particular culture of the beach bar.

All gloating and pleased with himself, Bradley made his way back to you, his hands sneaking around your waist without much thought.

"My wife?" you repeated with amusement. A bright smile quickly appeared on his face - he was growing more fond of that thought with each passing second, each mention of the, hopefully inevitable, possibility. "Don't remember marrying you just yet."

The anger he had been drowning in moments ago, was now nowhere to be seen and Bradley's face returned to its soft expression - a default for whenever you were around.

"Really?" he asked with theatrical confusion. His eyebrows even furrowed for a moment. "Must've been my dream then."

"You dream about me often?" you asked as a soft grin crept unto your face. Bradley was the type of man who would flirt with his girl even after having spent his entire life with her - always showing appreciation of the beyond favourable turn of events. Your fingers were mindlessly trailing the hem of his shirt.

"Anytime I can." Considering the gentle look in his eyes, it might just be true.

The laughter his words elicited from you was cut short as Bradley cradled your face and kissed you slowly. Some of the nearby guests started yelling 'bitter!', clearly believing Rooster and Maverick's slight embellishment of your relationship status.

[simpforrooster]

he didn't stand a chance.

bradley ‘rooster’ bradshaw x f!reader

summary: some weirdo keeps checking you out at the bar. you best friend seems like the perfect way to get him to leave you alone.

a/n: this one has been in my drafts for so long. totally forgot about it! i hope you like it!

~

The guy at the bar couldn't be more obvious in checking you out. You accidentally caught his eye when you walked in, scanning the room for Phoenix.

He's yet to come up to you, content on just making things weird from the way he watches you.

"Come on, let me say something to him," Phoenix presses, jonesing for a fight. You shrug her off, taking a sip of your cocktail.

He turns his attention toward Penny, and your shoulders relax.

Finally.

Before you can get comfortable, those eyes are back on you. He fixes you with a grin. A grin that suggests he's about to saunter over to you and start a conversation.

Panicking, you turn toward Rooster, your best friend. Your hot best friend. You take his Hawaiian shirt in your fist.

"Kiss me," you breathe.

His brows knit together. "What?"

Before his stupid mouth can mess up your plan, you yank his face down toward yours, capturing that stupid mouth. Rooster's surprise melts away as he takes your face in-between his hands. Deepening the kiss, one of Rooster's hands falls from your face. That hand finds a belt loop on your shorts, yanking you toward him. A gasp falls from your mouth at the feeling of your bottom half against his.

You pull back from him at Phoenix's cough. "Uhm. He's gone."

Rooster walks you backward until your back hits the pool table. Resting his forehead against yours, his breath strained.

His index finger lightly tilts your face up to him. You meet those gorgeous eyes and the realization of what happened hits you like a Mac Truck.

"What the fuck was that?" he murmurs.

"I've been dodging that guy at the bar all night," you explain.

"And instead of calling him out with one of your famous verbal beatings, you decide to attack me?" The corner of his mouth quirks up.

"I didn't attack you," you say. "You're the one who turned things almost borderline inappropriate."

He chuckles, his forehead still against yours. His eyes drop down to your mouth, and slowly come back up to your eyes. "I don't recall you stopping me."

"I needed to be sure that guy got the message."

"And what message is that?"

"That he didn't stand a chance."

[thatlovinfeelin]

His Wings of Gold | Bradley Rooster Bradshaw |

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Get married.”

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

“So, let’s go do it.”

“Right now?” You questioned.

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

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

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

“Okay, Brad. Let’s do it.”

“Yeah?”

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

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

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

“I love you even more.”

[roosterforme]

Always Ever Only You Part 17 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: When you manage to keep your spirits high through a rough patch, Bradley is as supportive of your needs as ever. He's working hard to take care of you in every way, and when he comes home with some unexpected paperwork, it's your turn to be supportive of him.

Warnings: Angst, swearing, fluff, mentions of smut, pregnancy discussion

Length: 4300 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

"It's funny to me that you think you're being coy right now," Bradley told Jake in the locker room. He was avoiding answering questions about his dates with Cat. Bradley knew for a fact that they went on at least two, because that's what you had told him. And he assumed that Jake or Cat had given you that information directly. 

"Some things are sacred, Bradshaw," he said as he applied his deodorant while Bradley dried his hair with his towel and started to get dressed. 

But you had also informed Bradley that the two of them had agreed to take it a little slow now, especially since Cat and Jeremiah were living with her Uncle Bernie. So as Bradley pulled on his underwear, he knew just what to say to bait Jake. "You fuck her yet?" he asked casually, barely able to keep a straight face. 

Jake rounded on him immediately, green eyes furious. "What the hell kind of question is that?" he hissed. "First of all, it's none of your business, but no. Second, you don't have to be so fucking crude about it, man. And third, I never asked you that when you were following Angel around the Hard Deck and all over base like a lost puppy."

Bradley erupted in laughter as he reached into his locker for his undershirt. "Chill, Hangman. I just wanted to see how serious you are. And furthermore, this is the first time you haven't been crude in your life. And further furthermore, you absolutely did ask me if I nailed my wife way back then, because you were mad she turned you down."

Jake stared off into space with his brow creased. "Huh. Well I am serious about Cat. And Jeremiah. But Hondo still gets a little riled up whenever he sees me. Been avoiding him on the tarmac like my life depends on it. And if I ever asked you for any sort of details about Angel, I deeply regret doing so now. Please, keep that shit to yourself."

"Happily," Bradley replied, thinking about your ass in your khaki pants and smiling. When he headed out to the parking garage, Jake walked with him. And when he got to his Bronco, he realized Jake had parked near him. And Cat was waiting for Jake, leaning against the passenger side door, looking at her phone. 

When she glanced up, she smiled and said, "Jake," with longing in her voice. And then she realized Bradley was there, too and straightened her posture like she was standing at attention. "Hi, Bradley."

Oh, they were both making it way too easy to fuck with them. Bradley grinned as he abandoned his Bronco for Jake's car instead. "How's it going? How's my little buddy, Jeremiah?"

She smiled a little cautiously. "He's great. Obsessed with dogs now from playing at your house."

"Yeah, well he's welcome any time," Bradley said, leaning against Jake's car. "Tramp loves licking crumbs off him. Actually Jake was just telling me all about your dates."

"Was he?" she asked quietly, and Bradley thought she looked pleased. Jake was glowering at him from the other side of the car, and Bradley caught sight of a car seat in the back.

"Oh yeah," Bradley said with a nod. "Jake only looks like an ass, but he's actually okay." Cat snorted, and Jake glowered harder. "Are you guys going to go pick Jeremiah up now?"

"Yeah," Jake said loudly. "Better get a move on."

But Cat just looked up at Bradley and said, "I'm trying to get him in the daycare program on base here, but I'm on a wait list. And the facility he's in now is across town, and it's really not that great. But it's affordable," she said with a bit of a shrug. 

Bradley nodded, giving up his original plan to mess with the two of them. He was pretty sure Jake would pay for a better daycare for her son if they were dating seriously. You'd told him a bit about Cat's ex husband and how she was in financial ruin. 

"Well, you have free babysitters," he told her softly. "Really good ones, too."

She laughed softly and leaned in a little closer. "Thanks. Yeah, top notch babysitters. Especially Tramp."

Bradley laughed, too, and then Jake cleared his throat loudly. "If the two of you are finished over there..."

"Later," Bradley told Cat with a grin. And when he walked around toward the Bronco, he winked at Jake and said, "Nice car seat, man."

Jake flipped him off rather discreetly, but he looked happy. When Bradley pulled his Bronco out of his parking spot, he noticed that Jake had walked around to the passenger side of his car. He and Cat were kissing, and Jake was once again holding his middle finger up behind his back for Bradley. 

When he got home, your car was already there. "Sweetheart," he called out as he walked inside. "I am on the cutting edge of the Jake gossip today." You were on the couch wrapped up in his undershirt and a blanket even though it was May, and you were eating a pack of cookies. "You okay?" he asked softly, but he already knew.

You nodded and met his eyes. "I got my period today." Your voice was bland and emotionless, but at least you weren't crying. You just looked exhausted and defeated. 

Bradley made a beeline to the couch and bent to kiss your forehead. "I love you," he promised as you looked up at him, the faintest smile on your lips. "I'll get your heating pad and some Advil? You want a glass of wine?"

"Yeah," you whispered. He didn't even take the time to remove his boots, and Tramp followed him from the bedroom to the bathroom to the kitchen in search of supplies. 

"I'll walk you in a bit. Relax," Bradley coaxed, tossing a treat that the dog caught in midair. "Mommy needs a cuddle first." And it was like the animal listened to him, because a minute later, you were snuggled up on Bradley's lap along with Tramp and the heating pad.

"How was your day?" you asked softly with your eyes closed. Bradley wasn't sure what he should or shouldn't mention right now. He wanted to make sure you were doing okay, but he didn't want to upset you over your period. He wasn't upset about it at all. 

"My day was fine. Do you... want to talk about anything?"

You sighed. "If you're referring to my period? No, not really. I'm okay, I promise. Just a little disappointed, but I think that's mainly because it came a day late, and I was getting just the tiniest bit hopeful, you know?"

Truthfully, Bradley hadn't been keeping up with your cycle, but now that he did the math, you were most likely ovulating right when he got home from deployment. "That makes sense," he whispered, kissing your hair. But he had been too happy since he returned home to let this ruin his day. "But you still got me."

You snuggled in a little closer and kissed his neck. "What's your hot Jake gossip?"

"Well...." It was his time to shine. He always found out everything late or after the fact, and you always liked to pick on him for it. "He and Cat went to pick Jeremiah up from daycare. Together."

You yawned and mumbled, "Yeah, they've been doing that for the past week or so."

"Oh," he said, slightly annoyed that this wasn't news to you. "Well, he also told me he hasn't even slept with her yet," he added.

"I know. I think he's secretly afraid of Hondo kicking his ass."

"Oh. Well, Jake has a car seat for Jeremiah now. But I'm assuming you already know that."

"Of course I do. But this was a really solid effort on your part, Roo. I'm so proud of you."

He just grunted and helped you readjust your heating pad. "I'm supposed to play golf in the morning, unless you'd rather I stay here and make you breakfast?"

"No, thank you. I feel bad enough already. But after you and Jake play golf, we're going out to dinner with him."

"We are? When did this happen? I just saw him."

You grinned up at him and said, "I was just texting Cat. Jake found a kid friendly restaurant that he thought would be great for Jeremiah. I said you'd probably really like it too. There is apparently a playground inside."

Bradley was quiet for a moment as you ran your fingers up along his neck. "Okay... that does sound really fun. Are there swings? I could push Jeremiah on the swings."

"I think there might be."

"I'm in."

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

You managed to get up and make Bradley breakfast even though you felt awful. But he spent Friday night cleaning the house after he got you in bed for the night with the heating pad, so you figured some scrambled eggs and a toasted bagel was the least you could do. 

"Jesus, Baby Girl," he moaned, as if you had made him a gourmet breakfast. "So fucking good." 

"Thanks for cleaning and doing the laundry," you said before you yawned. But Bradley collected you in his arms and held you. 

"Thanks for being the best person in the world," he replied, scooping you up and carrying you back to the bedroom while you giggled. "Now get back in bed and get some rest. We've got dinner and the Hard Deck later." 

Then he spun his cap backwards and climbed gently on top of you with a grin. "What are you doing?" you asked, but he cut off your words with his lips. 

"Loving my wife for a minute," he muttered, kissing you hard and parting your lips with his. You tasted his tongue as you moaned, and your fingers found their way to the short hair at the back of his neck. His mustache was really doing it for you, but as soon as you ran your tongue along it, Bradley was pulling away from you. 

"Roo," you whined as he rolled off of you and adjusted his pants. 

"I'll be back after lunchtime," he whispered, and just the sight of his hand on his cock through the fabric of his white golf pants had you pouting. "I love you."

You begrudgingly said, "I love you, too. Even though you're leaving me high and dry." Then you rolled over as he chuckled and left. And you thought about his hands gripping his golf club in those soft, sexy gloves until you were able to fall asleep again.

When you woke up hours later, you were starving and decided to eat a sandwich while you lounged on the back patio. You tossed pieces of crust to Tramp and then you wandered back inside, running your finger along the piano keys as you went. The house was too quiet, and it gave you that melancholy feeling that you got when Bradley was deployed. 

For the briefest moment, you imagined a baby in your arms. Someone to keep you company while he was away. A little one to grow up knowing what it felt like to miss their dad and then be reunited with him over and over again. Someone else for Bradley to dote on. You swallowed down the miserable feeling before it could take over. A baby was not more important than your marriage. A baby did not need to happen at this moment. A child would be welcomed at any time, not just right now. 

You drew a bath, and you were barely in there for more than five minutes when Tramp jumped up from the bath mat and ran for the front door. 

"Sweetheart?"

"In the bathroom," you called, and a second later Bradley was in the room with you. "How were the guys?"

"The usual," he grunted as he knelt on the mat and dipped his fingers in the water. "How was your morning?" he asked, keeping a totally innocent expression on his face as he stroked your breast just under the water's surface.

"Missed you. Got myself a little sad, because it felt like a day when you were deployed." 

Bradley tossed his cap on the floor and said, "I'm right here. I'm yours for the rest of the day. The rest of the weekend. Until we have to go to work on Monday."

"I know," you said, your voice sounding so small as you squeezed your eyes shut. "Will you go see Dr. Genevieve with me next week?"

He answered immediately as his hand found yours. "Of course. I haven't been to therapy in years. It'll be good."

You gaped at him. "You've seen a therapist before?"

"Yeah," he replied with his brow scrunched. "College was a very rough time for me without my mom. And Mav pulled my papers. And I didn't feel like I really belonged anywhere. I never told you that?"

You were just in awe of this man and his notebooks and his open honesty right now and the fact that you were always learning more about him. "No. But I'm really proud of you."

He smiled softly and blushed. "We can go see Dr. Genevieve together. We can do everything together. But you're not allowed to make fun of me if I have more fun at the restaurant tonight than the one year old."

You shook your head and said, "It would come as a surprise to literally nobody."

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

"I don't know why he's fussing so much. He's usually a good eater," Cat said, cutting up some food into tiny pieces while Jeremiah remained on the verge of tears in the high chair. Bradley noticed that Jake was looking a little stressed out, presumably because Jeremiah wasn't enjoying the restaurant as much as he had hoped. Jake had spent all morning at the golf course talking about how excited he was.

"Let me see here," Bradley murmured, picking up the rainbow colored fork and tickling Jeremiah with his fingers while he held out a bite of food. In an instant he was laughing, and then he had a mouthful of food. "You love it here, right kiddo? We played on the swings. We drew on the walls. Your mom let you eat dessert first, and Jake won you a porcupine in the claw machine. Now eat up."

"You're incredible," Cat whispered. "No wonder he likes going to your house so much."

"Nah," Bradley said as Jeremiah took hold of the fork for himself. "It's all her and the way she can read a board book like it was written by a Pulitzer Prize winner." He leaned in and kissed you as you beamed at him. Bradley had spent the better part of an hour after your bath rubbing your back while reading some of his notebook entries to you. It always really seemed to make an impact where sometimes his verbal skills escaped him. But when he wrote his feelings out on a piece of paper, it made all the difference in the world.

"Are you coming to the Hard Deck after this?" you asked, turning to look at Jeremiah as he ate. "Well, not you, little man."

"Nope," Jake said with a cocky grin on his face and his arm draped across the back of Cat's chair. "We're going to watch the newest Scooby Doo movie back at my place and enjoy some of the chocolate chip cookies that I definitely made myself and did not buy at the store."

Cat laughed, and Bradley watched as she leaned in to whisper something to Jake as she brushed his hair back from the scar on his forehead. "They look happy," you muttered, taking Bradley's hand in yours underneath the table. 

"Yeah," he agreed, carefully wiping Jeremiah's face as Cat kissed Jake like they were completely alone. "I'll roast him later for this. He always tells me we're disgusting."

"We are a little bit disgusting, Roo."

"Never said we weren't."

When you and he left the three of them a little while later and headed to the Hard Deck, Bradley was in an absolutely disgusting, soppy mood. You were singing along so badly to his favorite playlist while his hand rested on your thigh, and he was just so fucking proud of you for not letting your period take over your mood. Especially when all he wanted was to make you happy, and he knew it would have crushed him if you were being hard on yourself while he doted on you.

When he pulled into the parking lot and put the Bronco in park, he said, "I don't understand how you can sing so badly when you make the prettiest sounds I've ever heard in bed."

"Hey!" you complained with a laugh as you crawled across the seat and onto his lap. "Was that supposed to be a compliment?"

"I only have the nicest things to say about you and your singing voice," he promised with an obnoxious smile as you pushed his head back against the headrest and started to gently nibble on his neck. Soon you were sucking a little harder as your hand trailed up and down his bicep. "Oh shit. That feels great. Let's go home."

You moaned softly and licked a trail up to his ear before whispering, "Nope. You tease me, I'm going to tease you right back." Then you rubbed yourself against his cock, and Bradley tried to get his arm around you, but you were already jumping down from his lap to the parking lot. 

"Hey!" he called out with a laugh as you ran ahead of him while he tried to lock the Bronco doors. When he jogged inside, you were already at the bar chatting with Penny. He made eye contact with you, and you smirked. 

Bradley strolled up behind you and pressed himself against your butt, kissing the back of your neck. "Whenever you decide you want to behave, I'll be at the pool table," he whispered. 

You just laughed and said, "You know that's not going to happen."

"Well, come say hi to Nat anyway," he added, laughing softly against your neck. Penny was looking at the two of you together with the softest expression, and Bradley figured that was how he usually looked at you, too.  "You know, I can remember the early days before the two of you were together," Penny said over the buzz of conversation. "All the longing glances and sneaking off together." Bradley set his hand on your hip and said, "Hey, we thought we were being pretty discreet." "Nice try," Penny said with a laugh as she slid two beer bottles across the bar.  "Were we not discreet?" Bradley whispered as you and he walked toward Nat. You beamed up at him. "I guess not." He watched you walk into his best friend's open arms for a hug. And now he was thinking about every way he could be less than discreet with you tonight. You kept touching him, just some fleeting brushes of your hand to his abs or arm while you chatted with the others, but you were relentless.  When the beers were empty, you took his bottle and said, "I'll take these back up to the bar, and then I'm running to the ladies' room." Bradley just grunted as you squeezed his bicep. As soon as you disappeared down the hallway, he dug his phone out of his pocket and sent you a quick text. Meet me outside at our special spot? He waited and waited but got no response. However, when you reemerged from the hallway, you caught his eye and then continued toward the exit. Bradley was in the middle of conversation with Javy about golfing when he suddenly said, "Hey, man, excuse me for a minute."

Bradley pushed his way through the crowd, and once he was back outside in the cool, dark night, he turned and ran toward the steps at the far end of the deck. As soon as his shoes hit the sand, you were reaching out for him. 

"Been a while since we did this," you told him, your voice filled with laughter as he backed you up against the deck post. 

"Too long," he agreed, letting his lips meet yours as you wrapped your arms around his neck. It was amazing how kissing you and just touching you made him feel so good inside. The feel of your kisses was a comfort that he knew by heart, and every curve of your body fit his hands perfectly. His fingers were inside your shirt, his thumbs gliding along your ribs and up to your bra.

You moaned into his mouth, pressing up on your toes and pulling him closer. When he broke the kiss to breathe, you whispered, "I have my period though."

"I know. Just wanted to make out with my fucking hot ass wife. Penny made me nostalgic."

His rough hands were on your lower back, and your head was tipped against the post. Bradley worked his lips along your neck, collar bones and cleavage as you said, "This feels just as good as the first time. Maybe better."

"Definitely better," he murmured. "You're in love with me now."

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

You had no shame. Your outfit was a wrinkled mess, and your lips were puffy when you returned to the pool table some thirty minutes later. Bradley's hair looked like he'd been outside during a natural disaster, and Penny smirked at him when he got two more beers. 

But it didn't matter, because you were so happy. So you let the guys pick on Bradley while you laughed into your beer bottle. And when you got home, you let him lure you into the shower to have sex at one in the morning where he made you cum so hard, your echoing voice scared Tramp. And maybe the sex was better when you weren't trying so hard to get pregnant. And maybe listening to him read his notebook to you every night was doing more than you originally thought.

When you got to work on Monday morning, Bickel was waiting for your help with his most time sensitive projects. "Your ideas are always so refreshing, Lieutenant Commander." 

And when you sat in the lab all afternoon, Cat came over at one point and simply said, "You were right about Jake."

And then Bradley met you for thirty minutes where he got to meet Dr. Genevieve. You told her that you were having a good day even though you got your period, and the three of you just chatted a little bit. 

But you should have known that by the end of the week, you'd be feeling a little different. You were at home on Friday, already lounging on the couch and looking at vacation destinations for your first anniversary in November when Bradley walked in holding two envelopes.

"We need to talk." 

You popped up on the couch and eyed him carefully. "About what?"

"Two things." He struggled out of his boots at the front door as he said, "Admiral Dean's court-martial has a date scheduled. And there's also an upcoming special detachment."

The court appearance for Dean and Slayer was something you figured would be happening soon. But a special detachment? You weren't sure if you were ready to hear about it. "Just tell me."

Bradley dropped down on the couch next to you and gave you a quick kiss. "June 9th," he said, handing you the first envelope. You scanned along, reading the dates and times, and sure enough, Bradley would have to appear in full dress uniform in court that day. 

"Okay," you murmured, "now tell me about the detachment."

He kissed you again and then again, and you realized he seemed a lot more antsy about this bit of information. "Here." He placed the second envelope in your hand, but the paperwork had almost no information on it. And you were surprised to see that it had a classification code above what you were currently privy to.

"This tells me nothing, Roo."

"I realize that," he replied, running his hands through his hair. "It's something top secret. I wouldn't get any of the details unless I'm selected." He turned to look at you with his elbows propped on his knees and his forehead cupped in one hand. "But, Baby Girl... I really want to do this. I think I kind of need to."

And you understood exactly what he meant without him elaborating further. He still thought he needed to prove himself after being named the spare by Admiral Dean, and this was probably the kind of mission that would get his head on straight again and bring back his confidence. But this was also the kind of mission that would leave you at home, alone and worried. Because if he wasn't one hundred percent in the right head space, it could spell disaster. 'Top secret' meant highly dangerous. But it also meant only the most skilled pilots and weapons systems officers would be chosen to participate.

You swallowed down your fear and nudged his bicep until he leaned back and welcomed you onto his lap. "If you want to do it, then I hope you get chosen." You hated that your voice shook and tears filled your eyes, because you wanted to be encouraging for him. 

"Come here," he whispered gently, and you sobbed quietly as he held you in his arms. "It'll be okay. I might not even get selected. But if I do, it'll still be okay."

"I know," you said, sucking in a deep breath. You hated that his confidence had been shaken in this way, but he was among the best, and you were already sure he'd be going. You could feel it in your bones. 

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

I'm hoping Dean and Slayer get what they deserve. And also up next, Roo and BG visit a new bar they've never been to before with an agenda they've never indulged in before. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 18

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

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[thedroneranger]

Tip of the Cap (Bradley's Version)

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw

Synopsis: Bradley rarely covers up his sun-kissed curls, but the one time he does...

Note: Tip of the Cap, started as a Bradley Bradshaw fic 😱 Struggling to finish it, I swapped the main interest to Jake and BOOM! it came together. However, the challenge of seeing through a Bradley version has been heavy on my mind, so I give you Tip of the Cap (Bradley's Version). Let me know your thoughts!

This one is for my Bradshaw Baddies™, in particular, @roosterforme and @cherrycola27—enjoy!

Warnings: 18+ only, smut.

Word count: 3.0k

That. Fucking. Hat.

You leaned your palms on the edge of the dresser as you thought about Bradley trotting around in denim cutoffs and his backward baseball cap. Rarely did he cover up his sun-kissed curls, but today, at the annual squadron beach party, Bradley had chosen to don a well-worn UVA baseball cap. 

And he looked good. 

A smile pulled your lips as you thought about Bradley’s cheeky grin while he backpedaled on the hard-packed sand, watching the play he just called unfold. The little curl trying to escape his cap through the adjustment strap hole had you shaking your head in disbelief.

Lost in thought, you hardly reacted as he sidled up behind you. He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, his mustache tickling you. His hands wandered down the beach cover-up you were still wearing, pulling your body against his.

You made eye contact in the mirror that ran the length of your dresser as he sucked on your neck. The moan that escaped you made him smile as he continued to leave hot kisses down to your collarbone. Then he nipped the spot where your shoulder met your neck and you purred. You reached back to rake your fingers through his curls, and instead, your fingers met the taught fabric of his hat. A pout overtook your lips as your nails scratched against his hat. 

Bradley ghosted his mustache along your jawline. Planting a kiss on the hinge, he snagged his cap by the bill and placed it on your head. Too big, it fell over your face. As you adjusted it, he kept peppering your shoulder with kisses. By the time you got his cap adjusted, Bradley was done teasing you and strolling to the ensuite bathroom. The muscles in his back subtly shifted and his shorts moved just enough you could see the defined tan line low on his hips. His lower back dimples taunted you. 

With a sigh, you turned back to the mirror and shared a frown with your reflection. Your lower lip rolled between your teeth as you thought. Standing to your full height, you placed his hat on the dresser, and then slipped your beach cover-up over your head.

When you got dressed that morning, you had picked a modest swimsuit, knowing the beach party was a work event. However, it didn’t hurt that the suit was also one of Bradley’s favorites.

All day long, you taunted him whenever an opportunity arose. A number of times, you wiggled in his lap, grazed your chest against his, or bumped into his crotch. Each time, you knew he was doing his best to keep his reactions PG-13 in front of his colleagues.

On the ride home, Bradley couldn’t keep his hands to himself. You did your best to seem unfazed as the calloused pad of his thumb stroked the soft skin of your inner thigh. Every so often, his thumb would sneak into the baggy leg hole of your cutoffs and would innocently graze the crotch of your bathing suit. Payback for your earlier behavior.

Goosebumps hatched on your arms as your thoughts wandered back to Bradley quarterbacking the dogfight football game. Listening to him bark out plays and yell at his teammates to get into position. Even thinking about him pushing his Caravans up his nose had you lusting. 

And that damn hat. His answer to your warning about making sure he wore enough sunscreen to remain a golden marshmallow instead of morphing into a boiled lobster. 

Bradley started the day with his hat forward, the bill shielding his eyes along with his sunglasses. The minute he and his fellow pilots divvied into teams for football, he cocked it backward. A couple drives into the game, he ran for a touchdown. Successful, he scanned the beach and locked eyes with you. Bradley gave you a beaming smile and tipped his cap. Instantly, heat pooled between your thighs.

That heat was pooling again as you thought about his taut muscles, raspy voice, mustache and that fucking UVA baseball cap.

Then it hit you.

One more look toward the bathroom door, the water was still running, you hustled to the closet. Both pieces of your bathing suit fell to the floor as you crossed the room. Once in the closet, you thumbed through until you found what you wanted—his favorite Hawaiian shirt. 

You shrugged on the garment and buttoned it as you walked toward the bed. One of the last times you wore this shirt, you and your best friend took some polaroids that you tucked into Bradley’s duffle before he deployed a few days later. Once he found the photos, his only request was for you to model it next time you were together. Bradley nearly fucked you on the hood of the Bronco when you picked him up wearing the shirt tucked and tied so it look like an off-the-rack top. 

Just as you were climbing onto the bed, you spied his ball cap on the dresser. Bradley was still in the bathroom, so you grabbed the hat and ran back to the bed. Nestled among the pillows, you arranged yourself with your head resting in the crook of your elbow. With your free hand, you adjusted the hat one more time and waited.

Finally, Bradley emerged. A towel slung low on his hips, he darted toward the closet. However, he did a double take and changed course when he saw you. “What is this?” He stood at the foot of the bed with his arms crossed over his broad chest and his eyes locked on you.

You unbuttoned the shirt and had the thinnest sliver of skin showing. Your fingers trailed the valley between your breasts, down your stomach and stopped at your pubic mound. Bradley’s eyes tracked your fingers as they teased your cleft.

“Teasing you until I get what I want,” you said matter of factly, keeping eye contact with him.

Bradley’s lips quirked, trying to restrain a smirk. He unfolded his arms, placed a knee on the bed and climbed so he was hovering over you. He supported himself with a hand on either side of your head and his knee slotted between your thighs as you looked at each other. “Sweetheart, you pretend like you haven’t been teasing me all day,” he said. 

“Did I?” You cocked an eyebrow, and then looked between the two of you as you dragged an index finger down his chest, his abs, and then dipped it into the roll of his towel. “Enlighten me.” You met his gaze while you tugged on the terrycloth, causing it to fall open. 

His mustache shifted as his smirk bloomed. Bradley kept your gaze as he gently parted his shirt, letting his fingers ghost your skin until you were fully exposed. His head dropped to your chest, kissing and sucking each nipple until they peaked, and then trailed kisses down your stomach. 

“The little black number you wore.” His tongue flicked into your belly button. “Every time you came in contact with me at the party.” Bradley pressed a kiss just below your navel. “Every graze. Every nudge. Every time you ‘settled’ into my lap.” He continued to let his lips brush against your skin.

Pleased with your reactions, Bradley sat back on his knees, pushing his towel on the floor and stroking himself until he was completely hard. 

You watched him with hooded eyes. A whine escaped you as you let two fingers sink into your folds. Dipping into your wetness, you spread it around your lower lips as you watched Bradley.

“Oh, sweetheart.” He moved to push his thighs underneath yours and rest himself against your core. Gently grabbing your wrist, he pulled your fingers from your heat. You held your breath as you watched him guide your hand to his lips. He pressed a kiss to the pads before pushing them into his mouth. Yours fell open a little as his tongue swirled around your digits. His cheeks hollowed as he slowly pulled out your fingers with a soft pop.

Your eyes were locked on him, awaiting his next move. Bradley adjusted his grip to hold your palm face up. You watched as his saliva pooled on it. Using his tongue, he spread his spit around your palm and then positioned it around his cock. Loosely, you gripped him and lazily slid your hand up and down. 

He sighed and ran his hands along your thighs as you continued to stroke him. As you got into a rhythm, he thrusted into your touch. “And now, you’re wearing my shirt,” he revived the conversation.

“What?!” You feigned surprise, sitting up and forgetting about him to grab at the fabric around you. “This is yours?!” You held a fistful of fabric in his direction. Bradley couldn’t help but continue to smirk as he leaned toward you. 

Focused on him, you only remembered his baseball cap was perched on your head when his eyes floated to the bill—the only thing standing between your lips and his. Suddenly, the ball cap was resting backward on his half-dry curls and his body rolled over yours, pushing you flat into the bed. A hand on either side of your head, his thighs pushed yours wider as his lips and mustache glided along your neck and collarbone.  

“My shirt. My hat.” Bradley said between kisses. “My pussy.” His teeth sank into your neck at the same time as he seated himself inside you. An rapturous moan left your lips, and your hands flew up to his shoulders, nails digging in. You snarled at each other—teeth sinking deeper, nails digging further.

Your breath hitched each time Bradley snapped his hips. Eyes wide, you rested your heels on the small of his back as he rutted into you. He pulled his head up to watch your expressions—you were getting louder with each thrust. He smiled. 

The head of Bradley’s cock ground against the spot that made you see stars, so your eyes rolled back. “My hat, my shirt, my pussy,” he repeated like a chant. He kept hitting that spot, you could feel the warmth building in your belly. “Tonight, I’m gonna wear ‘em all at the same time.” The rasp in his voice alone nearly pushed you over the edge.

He hit that spot a few more times, sang your praises, and then you were coming. He hissed as your nails left raised pink streaks on his shoulders and down his arms. He continued to watch your face as he worked. Your eyes squeezed shut as you rode out your orgasm, clenching around Bradley as he continued to pump into you. A few soft grunts escaped him as he relished the feeling of you fluttering around him.

Your eyes flitted open to meet his hazel ones. He watched you as your hand moved from his shoulder to his jaw, and your thumb came to rest on his lower lip. Bradley pushed his lips against it a few times, matching the pace of his hips, and then his warm tongue met your thumbpad. He sucked on it before he tilted his chin to let your thumb rest there. You then ran it along his jaw as you stared at each other.

“It’s my turn, sweetheart.” Bradley gently grabbed your wrist and pulled you upright as he sat back on his haunches. You settled into his lap, still on his cock, and your arms wrapped around his shoulders.

Bradley’s hands rested on your ass. One hand came back, and an open palm met your skin, sending a crack into the silence. You yelped and your hips canted forward. Bradley smiled as his teeth eclipsed his lower lip. His palm met your backside again, and you, again, yelped and canted forward. He spanked you a couple more times, enjoying your sounds and the forward motion of your hips.

Your ass was red, your skin hot, but you enjoyed the sting. You were so wet, you could feel your arousal running down his cock onto his balls. “You like that?” he asked, already knowing the answer. “You’re so wet, you're getting me all wet, sweetheart.” You mewled as you leaned into him and captured his lips with yours. 

Arms still secured around Bradley’s neck, you scooted back and forth to get friction against your clit. Bradley smiled into your kisses. “That’s my girl.” He matched your motions, which caused you to moan between kisses while you moved in tandem. 

Before long, your micro movements weren’t enough. Bradley was wound tight and wanted long strokes to get off. His hand crept to your neck, and he gently tugged you away. You were hard pressed to break your kiss, and you demanded that Bradley stay buried inside you as you changed positions. 

Before you were flat on your back, Bradley helped you take off his shirt, leaving you completely exposed. Meanwhile, he slipped the garment on and hovered over you. His gaze was smoldering, pupils blown, and his hips picking up speed with each thrust. 

“You feel so fucking good,” he cooed. Bradley’s head lolled back for a moment. You studied his chin, neck and chest while he was blissed out. Unable to control yourself, your hand came to his lower stomach. Bradley groaned and tilted his head forward so he could see you. He watched as you ran your knuckles his happy trail. Then, your hand slipped lower until your index and middle fingers were in a V-shape around the base of his cock. 

Bradley continued to thrust as you applied light pressure. Involuntarily, he groaned and you smiled. You continued to coax him toward orgasm with your fingers and pussy. 

“Fuck, sweetheart.” Bradley’s version of saying he was close. One hand planted beside your head, the other now on your neck. His fingers applied pressure to the sides. You wrapped your free hand around his wrist. Bradley watched you to make sure you were ok with the amount of pressure.

Bradley’s current pace had you on the path toward another orgasm. Your fingers shifted from Bradley’s cock to your clit to help make that a reality. Bradley praised you for taking care of yourself and shifted so his thighs pushed your legs wider. The head of his cock kissed your cervix with each thrust.

The moans it induced from you was enough for him to shoot you full of cum. Bradley managed to keep pace as he came so you remained on track toward your second orgasm. As you pulsed around him, he slowed to enjoy the feeling. 

Your mixed cum was oozing out as he continued to thrust and you continued to milk him. Some of it smeared onto your fingers as you continued to massage your clit. You brought them to your lips to lick clean. Bradley made the most desperate sound that pleasantly surprised both of you as he watched your fingers near your mouth. 

Much to his pleasure, you brought your fingers to his mouth instead. He happily accepted them. First, licking from the base to pads and then letting you slip them past his lips. He swirled his tongue around them, bobbing his head to match his languid pace. Once satisfied, he hollowed his cheeks as you pulled them out. “Mhmm.” His tongue swiped his bottom lip, hoping to catch any remnants. You laughed and leaned up to press your lips to his. 

Bradley’s lips ventured to your cheek and down your neck until he was kissing your chest. You whined as he slipped out of you. You watched as he kissed down your stomach and stopped at your pubic mound. His big hands gripped your hips and pulled you to the edge of the bed. He knelt on the floor, looping one of your legs over his shoulder and pushing the other as wide as the hinge of your hip allowed. 

He kept eye contact with you as he kissed each of your pussy lips. And then, with a broad tongue he slowly lapped up your mess. You watched him, letting your fingers tour over rivets and seams of his hat.  

Your thighs and your outer lips clean, you watched as he rested his hands on either side of your heat and gently spread your pussy. The cool air hitting you had you holding gasping. Bradley watched your face as he softly blew on your clit. You arched your back a little bit off the bed conflicted by the sensation. 

Bradley started with a single stripe from your hole up to the hood of your clit. Then he dipped his tongue between your clit and your lip, repeating the maneuver on the other side. He was tender with his clean up, caressing you enough to feel good but not overstimulate. 

When he stopped spreading you, he placed a final kiss on the cleft of your pussy. Then Bradley slipped out from under your legs and helped you sit up on the bed. 

He stood between your knees. It was his turn to shower you in soft touches as you peppered kisses on his stomach and licked away your cum. You couldn’t help but smile as he looked down at you. His wild curl still trying to escape the adjustment strap on his hat and the open edges of his shirt fluttering slightly had you smiling. Finished with cleanup, you closed your eyes and let your chin rest against him. 

“You interested in another round, sweetheart?” He asked softly. He stroked your hair and waited for your answer. 

“What are you going to wear?” You teased. 

A smile graced his face as he stepped away from you, heading toward the closet. “Oh, I have an idea.”  

Palms supporting you, leaned back on the bed and watched as he disappeared into your walk-in. About a minute later he emerged, wearing one of his flight suits. He left the front unzipped so you had a view of his tanned chest and abs. The apex of his zipper drew your attention to where he wanted it most. 

Your gaze floated back to his face. Of course, he topped off the look with his damn UVA baseball cap—wild curl included.

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[starlightval]

his f-18, his bronco, his favorite sports teams and you || bradley 'rooster' bradshaw

pairing: bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x mitchell!reader

synopsis: you claim there are a select set of things rooster pays attention to and remembers information about. those being his f-18, bronco, and favorite sports teams. however rooster is quick to correct you seeing as you left off one very important thing on that list, you.

warnings: n/a, just some short and sweet fluff

note: not edited! rooster has me in an absolute chokehold, enjoy lovlies.

ps. i may or may not have a rooster x mitchell!reader multific story in the works 👀 let me know if thats something you'd be interested in!

masterlist

*I do not give consent to my work being posted, translated, copied or published to any third-party site. If you see my work reposted anywhere, please reach out and let me know.*

“Roo, baby, you know I love you from the absolute bottom of my heart but I don’t trust your cooking. Stay out of my kitchen.” You order sweetly, pointing toward the living room with the spatula in your hand.

Rooster had come waltzing in a few moments ago, his baseball game having cut to a commercial break, and with one look at you buzzing around the kitchen with your hair messily pulled back against your head as you multitasked getting things prepped for tonight's dinner, had announced that he wanted to help.

To which you said absolutely not and he immediatley wanted to know why leading to the converstation you were currently having.

He grabbed at his chest, face twisting in offense, “Excuse you, for your information I am a fantastic cook. Carole Bradshaw insured that.” 

“And I have nothing but the utmost absolute faith in Aunt Carole’s abilities. What I don’t have faith in is your ability to pay attention and retain the knowledge of anything that doesn’t have to do with your F-18, Bronco or favorite sports teams.” 

“Are you calling me dumb Y/n Mitchell?” He accused.

“I never said that Bradley Bradshaw, I only meant that your talents and intelligence are more aptly applied in places that aren’t my kitchen.” You countered, putting emphasis on his name the way he did yours.

He stared at you for a moment, eyes playfully narrowed, trying to come up with good enough response to defend himself against your argument. He repeats your list mentally to himself; His F-18, his bronco, his favorite sports teams and...wait a minute-

Rooster's head cocked to the side and a smirk spread across his face as a thought suddenly dawned on him. You rose an eyebrow as he placed his beer down on the kitchen island and took a step forward crossing the distance towards you, “What are you doing?”

“You left something off that list,” he said softly, taking another step forward and pinning you to the counter with his hips. His hands went forward to rest on the edge of the marble on either side of your waist, leaving you with no where to go.

You furrowed your eyebrows and smiled in confusion up at him, “What?” 

His closeness was disarming and you never could think straight in his presence. Especially not with those dark brown eyes locked so intensely on yours, so your earlier argument had already slipped from your mind. 

“The list of things that you said I pay attention to and remember stuff about, you forgot something.” He repeated, breath fanning lightly across your face, “It's my F-18, my bronco, my favorite sports teams and you. I always pay attention to and remember anything to do with you baby.” 

Your breath hitched and you instantly became putty in his arms, heart melting right along with the rest of you. 

Your suddenly hit with the rush of an overwhelming amount of love for the man in front of you. Surging forward, you closed the small gap between you and brought your lips together in a passionate kiss. Your arms circled themselves tightly around his neck, spatula dropping forgotten to the floor, as you tried with every fiber in your being to express through your kiss just how much you freaking loved and adored him. 

The pair of you don’t separate until you both desperately need to breathe, gasping lightly as you do for air. Your arms remained in their locked postion around his neck, preventing him from putting any space between you, so he simply lowered his forehead to rest against yours, eyes falling shut. 

It’s silent between you for a few more moments as you basked in one another’s touch, breathing the same breath, before you break it by whispering, “I still don’t trust you in my kitchen.” 

Rooster doesn’t react at first but then suddenly he bursts into loud boisterous laughter. His head dropping down to your shoulder, body shaking against yours with the force of it.

He manages to recover a few seconds later and still slightly chuckling, squeezes your waist before lifting his head up and pressing one more soft kiss to your lips.

Rooster then proceeds to back away, freeing you from your postion pinned against the counter, and grabbed his beer off the island to return to his game. 

“Whatever you say honey.” 

[kolsmikaelson]

rooster’s the type of guy to always have his hands on you twenty-four seven. not in a weird way, just in the way that he holds such an immense amount of love for you and he wants to always show it. the two of you often walk into the hard deck with his arm wrapped around your waist or his hand in your back pocket. or when you’re watching him and hangman play pool he’ll make sure you’re right there next to him. “gotta have my good luck charm.” he’d wink at you over his sunglasses. at the end of the night he has you in bed tucked into his side, arm thrown over your torso with soft snores leaving his mouth.

[lcahwriter]

Running (Part 1)

Pairing: Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x fem!reader

Word count: 5.2k

TW: Anxiety, past abuse, stalking, mentions of sex but no actual smut.

Summary: You ran across the country to the place you knew you’d be the safest- with Maverick on a Navy base somewhere in California. Your plan was to lay low until the coast was clear - but then you met Bradley Bradshaw. 

Will you be able to escape the man who was determined to find you? Will you be able to keep Bradley safe? To fall in love again? 

COMPLETED SERIES! Masterlist <—

Authors note: Holy shit, this has been a fun one to write. Please enjoy!

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It was 4pm on a Tuesday, the slowest day of the week at the Hard Deck. You mundanely polished the shot glasses that sat on the bar counter. Despite slow days being your least favorite – you were still thrilled to be working and not stuck alone at Mavericks house.

The Hard Deck and the navy base were the only places Mav allowed you to go to alone. Well- allowed was a harsh word. It was more of an agreement between the two of you. You knew it wasn’t safe to be alone right now, as much as you longed for the freedom. It had been 4 months since you moved in with Mav. He was like family to you- and when shit hit the fan you knew he was the right person to seek refuge in.

“Scrub those anymore and they might just disappear.”

You grinned and looked up from the shot glass. It was Bradley, a customer now turned… somewhat of a friend who was very easy on the eyes. He was wearing his usual outfit of perfectly fitting jeans and a Hawaiian shirt that complemented his sun kissed skin. You’d only seen him in his navy uniform once- he said he hated the attention it brought. You wanted to tell him he still got the attention of everyone in the room without it – but you figured he’d been flattered enough in his lifetime.

Bradley introduced himself 3 months ago on the night of your first shift. He had tried to ask you out a few times now, but you had so far successfully denied all his advances. It’s not that you weren’t attracted to him, because holy shit you definitely were. It was because you knew that if he really knew why you were here. He would want nothing to do with you.

“Another dad joke to start the evening with?” you teased him and set down the glass. You found it hard to know where to look at him since his black aviators covered his eyes. You settled on his lips- which was a big mistake. He noticed where you were staring by the looks of the tiny smirk appearing on his face.

“I was just stopping by to see how my favorite bar tender is doing.” Bradley’s voice was flirty as he leaned up against the bar and took a seat. You couldn’t help but keep grinning. He was a big flirt and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy the attention. As well as the company. Finding friends, the last four months was basically impossible.

“I’m doing just dandy Bradshaw.” You said whilst filling up a glass with his favorite beer. “Same as usual.”

Bradley scoffed.

“Not giving up much information. Same as usual” he mocked back at me. You rolled your eyes and slid the beer over the counter to him. Bradley had started to ask more questions the last few weeks. All questions that you really couldn’t answer.

“Why are you living with Mav?”

“What brought you to California”

“What did you do before bartending?”

“What’s your family like?”

“Okay fine, I am happy to report I went to the movies today.” You said confidently. Hoping that this bit of personal information would satisfy him. He looked at you through squinted eyes.

“You went to a movie today? Like before work?” He questioned. There was amusement behind his eyes. You crossed your arms.

“Yes, at the theatre on base. So what? There’s nothing wrong with a good movie before work.” Bradley let out a giggle and you shot him daggers with your eyes.

“Well, I would say most people go to the movies at night and on a weekend - definitely not at senior discount hour on a Tuesday” He grinned widely.

“Unbelievable – I finally tell you something about my day and you make fun of me for it.” You still hadn’t uncrossed your arms, but your lips were curving into a small smile.

“I think its adorable.” He says, taking a sip of his beer while beaming at you. You tried to hide your blush by looking down.

You gripped the edge of the counter when the flattery you felt turned into a deep, lulling fear in your chest. The man who was after you used to take you home and beat you if a man like Bradley complimented you at a bar.

You swallowed and tried to shake off the fear. You knew you were safe here. Maverick knew you were safe here too. The Hard Deck wasn’t a military base, but it might as well be. The place was always crawling with military men and women. No one would be able to hurt you here. Not without a fight anyway.

“You okay?”

You shook yourself out of the trance you were in when you heard Bradshaw’s voice.

“Fuck, yeah I’m sorry.” You said, rubbing your hand through your hair quickly. “Just zoned out” You said, trying to convince him you were alright.

“If the flirting is crossing the line…” He began to say but you cut him off.

“No!” You might have said that a little too quickly. “I mean. No, I like us flirting. I just- my head was somewhere else just then.” You reached over the counter and cupped your hand over his for a moment before taking it away. He looked shocked at the gesture. You honestly were surprised at yourself too.

It was the first time you’d ever touched him. He was so warm and rough- but somehow still so gentle. You were trying your god damn hardest to ignore the tingles in your hand.

A group of 6 or 7 people walked up to the bar and you thanked GOD that you somehow had an excuse to walk away from the awkward as shit conversation you were having. You flashed Bradley a smile before turning around quickly to attend to the rowdy group of customers.

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You burst into the small kitchen making a B-line for the fridge. You didn’t even bother to acknowledge Mav’s presence at the kitchen table. All you could think about was water. You filled up a glass of cold water before hastily bringing it to your lips.

You looked over your glass to see Maverick looking at you questionably.

“Try to run a mile again?” he asked.

“Two miles for your information” you retorted before filling up the empty glass once more. Your body was aching, and sweat was dripping from your forehead.

“Why do people run? Dear god its torture I swear.” You sat down at the table across from Maverick, finally feeling yourself calm down from an embarrassingly short run.

“Your therapist said it would be good for you right?”

A pang of shame popped into your chest. You nodded anyways.

“Something about helping with the anxiety.” You murmured, avoiding eye contact.

Mav was the closest thing you had to a father. Yours jumped ship as soon as you were born. But you always remember Mav being there. Between deployments and military orders, he would come by and take you and your mom out for ice cream- or to the movies. You were pretty sure your mom was in love with him at one point. But she still won’t admit that.

You missed her. But staying with her wasn’t an option. Not until this was all over. You were safest at a secured area.

“Have you heard from John?” you questioned hopefully.

John had been working with you and Maverick since you arrived in California. He was supposed to be the best private investigator around. You fucking hoped he was anyways, because neither you or Maverick could afford to pay him much longer.

“He texted me an update last night.” Mav sat back in his seat and ran his hands through his thick brown hair.

“He told me he’s still trying to recover the deleted pictures from your phone and home security cameras. He has tabs on Tim in Colorado. He is laying low there for God knows what.” Mavs jaw was clenched for a split second. You hardly ever saw him angry, but when Tim was brought up, he immediately soured – as did you. “Said once he recovers the files it will be enough evidence the Feds will have no choice but to move in on him.”

You nodded and bit the inside of your cheek. You had to involve the feds because Tim was a lead investigator at the police department in Virginia. You had tried to report him locally before- but somehow Tim would find out and nearly kill you. He had convinced everyone you were a “crazy” girlfriend. It was a hopeless situation. Until you finally ran.

“Still can’t believe an audio recording of him threatening to kill me isn’t enough.” You said sarcastically and stood up.

Mav shook his head and looked at you with sympathetic eyes. You had discussed this at length before. There was nothing either of you could do besides keep you safe and wait for John to gather evidence.

“You working at the bar tonight?” He asks. You nod.

“Yup. I better get in the shower. I’ve gotta be there by 3”

“Call me if you need me kid” He yells as you walk up the stairs of the tiny base housing.

“Always!” you shout back with a small smile on your face. You tried to ignore the aching in your chest from the conversation about Tim. Working at the Hard Deck tonight would be a good distraction from reality. Plus, you made more money there than you ever did as a Kindergarten teacher.

Your room at Mav’s place was small, but it was safe and that’s all you really cared about. You got ready for work, trying your hardest to convince yourself you weren’t wearing jeans that made your butt look good for any reason other than that they were comfortable. The tight red tank top that showed a lot more boob than you usually put on display- well that was definitely for Bradley Bradshaw. There was no denying that.

You knew you would never let him really know you- and you were pretty sure he knew that too. You were just a tease- someone he could never have. Someone nobody could have – at least not for a long time. Bradshaw was interested because he didn’t know you – once he found out you were running from a Psycho ex- he’d run like hell the other way.

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It was Saturday night so naturally; the bar was packed. Penny was working with you tonight, which helped relieve some of the anxiety you felt about the lines of people waiting for drinks. You had only been able to talk to Bradley for a few minutes before being swept away in craziness that was Saturday night at the Hard Deck.

“Hey sweetcheeks, can I get a beer?”  You looked up to see Jake, or Hangman as he had so kindly informed you many, many, many times.

“Sure thing” You went to grab the 10$ bill in his hand but he snatched it out of your reach. You let out an annoyed huff.

“Give me a kiss first.” He taunted, leaning his cheek towards you as if you would actually kiss him. You would literally rather run a marathon. Which is saying A LOT. Even if it was just on the cheek.

You took advantage of his eyes being shut and ripped the 10$ bill out of his hand.

“Never in a million years” You glared at him. Jake groaned at his failed attempt in flirting. You wanted to punch him in the face more times than you could count. But his flirting was pretty much harmless, besides the constant mental undressing of you every time you were in his vicinity.

You looked over at Bradley who was glaring at Hangman from across the bar. He looked like he was about murder him. His hand was wrapped around his beer with a death grip. You sighed and decided going over to talk to Bradley was way more fun than getting Jakes beer in a timely manner. Bradley noticed you walking towards him – he sat up and his body visibly let go of the tension it was holding.

“Hey” you said stupidly. He let a small grin come onto his face. A much more refreshing look than the death glare he had seconds ago.

“Hey” he says back softly. You sigh and grab his glass before refilling it on the beer tap beside you. Bradley’s eyes poured into yours. They were so beautiful and warm. You scanned the rest of his face. It was a masterpiece really. And fuck, he looked so good in the plain white t-shirt he was wearing. You tried not to stare at his muscles- but you just couldn’t help yourself.

A loud shout and crash startled you out of your trance. Your body went ridged at the sound of glass shattering on the floor. You turned to see that the freshly washed glasses stacked on the corner of the bar had been knocked over by someone.

The shattering still rang through your ears loudly. Your heart rate started to pick up and you could hear your blood pumping in every single part of your body. Your head was pulsing – your heart was beating out of your chest. You tried to breath but instead you choked on air. You knew you were in the bar- but your brain thought you were back with him, trapped.

The pain was like no other pain you’d felt. Glass was all around you –  you were covered in it. You looked down to see the clear shards turning a deep red. You could smell your own blood coming from all around you. You tried to get up from the glass but he was holding you there, letting you die –

“Y/N!” An arm shook your shoulder roughly. You looked up to see Penny with concern written all over her face. You started to breath faster. You looked past her to the glass on the floor, causing you to wince. Penny looked back at the glass and then back to you.

“What’s going on?” She asked gently, rubbing her hand up and down your arm. You backed away from her touch. You were somehow still standing, even with the panic rising in your chest. You looked to your right to see Bradley. Who looked like he was about to vault over the counter to get to you.

“Y/N…” he said with worry thick in his tone.

“I have to go.” You quickly said before dashing out of the bar towards the back door. You didn’t look back. You barely made it through the back door before vomiting in a bush to the left of the building. The anxiety was causing your stomach to wrench up all its contents. You couldn’t stop thinking about that night. The glass – the blood.

You sucked in air too quickly, time and time again despite your greatest efforts to calm your breathing. You slid down the cold wall of the building and tucked your knees to your chest.

You heard the back door open, causing you to flinch. Your eyes were so blurry from your tears you couldn’t make out who was there. You started to slide your body away from the figure.

“It’s Bradley.”

That made you stop. His voice was so gentle. So kind. You let out a loud sob between gasps for air. You could be embarrassed about it later.

“Stay away from me” You warn, as he walks towards you. He doesn’t listen and keeps walking. You wanted him to stay away – to go away. You didn’t want him to see you like this. He reached out his hand but you backed away harshly.

“Don’t touch me.” You said, shoving yourself against the wall in effort to escape him. He jerks back as if he had been burned by your words.

“Okay, I won’t touch you.” He said calmly.

He slid down the same wall you were against – but about 5 feet away. You breathed heavily.

“Please leave” you said, tears running down your face into your knees tucked under your chin.

This was so fucking embarrassing. You thought. You just wanted to disappear. How the hell were you supposed to come up with an excuse for freaking out over broken glass?

“I can’t leave you out here alone.” He says. You look up to see him staring at the night sky.

You shuddered at the thought of what could happen if you were alone. If he found you somehow. He would kill you.

Your thoughts got your body shaking again. Bradley noticed.

“What did you have for lunch today?” he asked. You popped your head from your knees to glance at him. He smiled softly when your eyes met him.

“Chicken nuggets” you replied, a shaky laugh left your lips. Bradley laughed loudly. “And you?” You ask weakly. You could already feel your breathing starting to slow with his silly distraction.

“Ramen noodles” he said with a sheepish look on his face. You laughed and then hiccupped immediately after. You lifted your head from your knees completely and let the back of your head lay against the cold wall. You were shaking from the fear, but it was slowly fading.

You sat in silence looking at the sky above you for at least 10 minutes before you felt the confidence to speak.

“Thank you” you say to Bradley, who was already looking over at you. His brown eyes sparkled in the moonlight.

“Anytime.” Is all he says, before looking back at the stars. You stared at him like he was art. Because he was, you couldn’t deny it.

“You have experience with panic attacks?”  You ask. He perks up at your question.

“What makes you think that?” He avoided the question.

“You knew to distract me. And to give me space.” You say, inching closer to him by sliding on the concrete. He avoided eye contact with you but nodded.

“I get them sometimes. Not so much anymore though.” He swallowed hard and you could tell he was uncomfortable talking about it. You reached out and grabbed his hand gently.

You knew you would regret it later. But in this moment, you wanted nothing more than to intertwine your fingers with his to somehow comfort both you and him at the same time. His large fingers wrapped around your hand. His thumb rubbed circles slowly on your hand, making goosebumps fly up your arms.

“You’re running from something” Bradley says quietly. You stiffen immediately but he keeps rubbing circles around your hand.

“What makes you think that?” You croak. You felt tears well in your eyes, but you bit your lip hard enough to make it bleed in attempt to stop them.

“You won’t talk about why you’re here. Or why you’re living with Mav.” He explains gently.        “You’re always looking over your shoulder like someone might be there”

You shut your eyes and take a deep breath. Fresh tears rolled down your face.  Bradley kept rubbing slow and soft circles around your fingers. You hated that he elicited this kind of response from you. A feeling of trust and safety that had to be something you just imagined in your head.

You didn’t want to give away any information. The fact that you were sitting here alone, holding his hand was bad enough. To feel safe with a man like Bradley gave you goosebumps. It made you think of an array of dirty thoughts that you definitely shouldn’t be thinking about.

Everything in you wanted to break the rules you set for yourself and pour your heart out to him. But you stopped yourself before you could.

“I need to go home. Will you tell Penny that I had to leave early?” You stood up and shakily wiped the back of your pants off. You tried to ignore how cold your hand felt now that it wasn’t enveloped under his.

“I’ll drive you home.” Bradley said sternly. He stood up next to you, towering over you. Good god you never noticed how big he was compared to you.

“I can drive myself.” You insisted while trying your hardest to avoid looking him in the eyes.

“Please- just – just let me drive you home so I don’t worry about you.” He paused for a moment “and I think Mav would kill me if he found out I let you drive home after tonight.”

Well, he was right about that one. You could try to hide what happened tonight when you got home hours earlier than expected. But you knew Maverick would eventually hear something about what happened from Penny.

“Fine”

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His car was nice, new and clean. It smelt like him. You scowled when you realized even his god damn car brought you comfort.

You looked over at the masterpiece driving beside you. His golden tan skin drew your eyes in. His arms and hands flexed whilst he drove, and you swear to god he was doing that shit on purpose. The scars on the side of his neck and face showed through the passing headlights. You found them beautiful.

You had scars too- but they made you want to vomit. You hid them away under your clothes and long hair. You even avoided looking in the mirror before showering. It was too much to see what he had done to you.

You clenched your jaw at the thought of that night again. You hated that your brain couldn’t let the trauma go. No matter how hard you wanted to forget it.

Bradley noticed you tense up, because of course he did.

Fuck.

He broke the heavy silence, just as you expected.

“Tell me what you’re running from. I can help you.” He looked over at you, and then back at the road. He looked determined.

You shifted in your seat and tugged at the fabric on your pant leg nervously. That wasn’t what you expected him to say.

“I don’t want you to get involved.” And that was the honest truth.

“Are you running because you did something illegal?” He asked, full seriousness in his voice. You snorted out a laugh.

“No. I promise I’m not a fugitive or anything” you joked, but Bradley remained serious.

“Well, then I want to be involved. Whatever it is.”

You gulped and thought about his offer. You didn’t need help escaping from Tim. You were already in the safest place you could be. But he could help you in other ways. Comfort. Companionship. Laughter. Pleasure … you clenched your thighs together instinctively. It had been years since you felt any kind of pleasure from a man.

You knew crossing that line with him would be a mistake- But God, when you looked at Bradley- you wanted to break all the god damn rules.

“You can’t help me.” You said looking out the window into the night sky. “Plus, you don’t even know me. Helping me makes no sense.” Your heart panged with sadness. Him not knowing you was the only excuse you could think of to push him away.

“I want to know you.” He said softly.

“And don’t act like I don’t know anything about you.” He mused, taking a glance at you with playful eyes. “I know your favorite beer AND that you like going to see movies with old people on Tuesdays”

You laughed and couldn’t help but smile. You shook your head and stared at him.

“Fuck.” is all you said before letting your head hit the back of the seat.

“What was that?” He asked, eyebrows raised. You stayed silent thinking about whether you should break all the rules or be good and ignore Bradley Bradshaw for the rest of your life.

“I said Fuck.” You repeated, sitting up a little straighter and puffing out your chest to gain your composure. Bradley pulled up to Mavs house and parked his car in the driveway. It was dark out, and with the headlights off you could only see parts of the man sitting next to you.

“Fuck, what exactly?” He wriggled his eyebrows and you punched him in the arm.

“You’re an idiot.” You said, smiling. You swallowed and enjoyed the feeling of being with him. You wanted to cherish it.

You looked into his brown eyes and got lost. You LET yourself fully let go for a moment. You scanned him from his hair to his thighs. You listened to his slow breathing, and you swore it was quiet enough to hear his heartbeat.

“I’m not running from something. I’m running from someone” you blurted out. You watched Bradley take in your words. His face went from shocked, curious, worried and angry all within a few moments. He stayed silent.

“I can’t believe I just told you that.” You said blankly. Slumping in your seat. You had expected to feel relieved. But instead, you felt anxiety. Fear of having to tell him more – things that you weren’t ready to admit.

“You can’t keep everything to yourself” he nudged. You wanted to run from him. You wanted to slam the car door in his face and destroy the stupid feelings that were bubbling in your chest.

“Mav knows everything. He’s like a father to me. That’s why I came here -I knew I’d be safe. Guarded by the navy and all that.” You joked half-heartedly.

Bradley mustered up a small smile, but you could tell he had a million questions to ask. You appreciated his patience.

“The glass tonight….” You trailed off and shook your head. Your eyes fell to your lap. Were you really telling Bradley Bradshaw this? When you thought about it you didn’t even know him. You had tried your best to avoid that. He wasn’t supposed to really mean anything to you – and you were just supposed to be a tease to him.

But here you are, sitting with him alone in his car- pouring your fucking heart out.

“What’s your favorite color?” you ask, looking up at Bradley curiously. He raised an eyebrow.

“Blue. And yours?”

“Green.” You explain. “Forest green, like the redwoods up north.”

Bradley hummed in response. His hands were sitting in his lap and you couldn’t help but wish they were holding yours. But you were too much of a chicken to admit that.

“I’m sorry. I just realized I hardly know you.” You admitted, giving him a small smile. “Yet here I am, about to dump all my secrets to you.” You were joked, once again to try to ease the anxiety you felt.

“Sure you do. I mean you’ve talked to me almost every day for the last three months.”

You shrugged.

“Good point.”

You unbuckled your seatbelt and turned towards him, flipping your legs up to sit crisscrossed. You leaned your back against the car door and sighed.

“The glass.” You said shakily. “It uh- reminded me…”

Fuck this was hard to talk about. But isn’t this what your therapist had told you to do? Not bottle up the memories when they arise? Make friends?

“He pushed me through a sliding glass door. I landed backwards all over the glass.” You couldn’t muster up the courage to look at Bradley. “He thought I would tell the paramedics about the abuse. I had to beg him to call the ambulance.” You whispered softly.

“So, when I heard the glass tonight- it just brought me back.” You felt the scars on the back of your neck and body burn. You sucked in a breath and peaked a glance at Bradley.

He was tense. He looked like he was trying to contain his emotions by clenching his fists in his lap. His jaw was clamped shut. But you also noticed sadness in his eyes, a true sadness that you weren’t expecting.

“That was 6 months ago.” You twisted your lips together and debated if you should continue spilling your guts out to the man across from you. You decided you’d take the risk.

“I managed to run away from him while he was on a work trip.  I went to my mom’s house a few states away, but it was only a few days before he showed up” You felt your voice grow weak. “I was at the store when he came to the house– he threatened to hurt my mom.” The pain you felt in your chest was palpable.

“I called Mav and told him I needed to hide. Until I had enough evidence for the feds to arrest him.” You looked at Bradley. “I called him on a payphone before I came here and told him to stay away from my family – because I was going to go somewhere he would never find me.” You pushed your hair behind your ears nervously. “The last thing he said was that when he found me, he would kill me.”

Bradley’s face hardened and you could see his neck was turning red with anger.

“He won’t find you.” His voice was strong and assuring. “You’ll be safe here.”

You gave him a small smile.

“Yeah, I know.” You said lightly.

Bradley gulped and hesitantly reached for your hand. You quickly met him halfway and allowed his hand to envelope yours. The intertwined hands rested on your lap.

“Thank you for telling me.” He said, rubbing those damn circles with his thumb on your hand again.

“And I swear to god that son of a bitch will not come near you again.” His voice was dark when he spoke. You gulped.

“Yeah. I really hope so.” You looked down at your hands and flinched at the thoughts that came into your mind.

“He would kill me if he knew I was holding your hand.” You said quietly. Bradley tensed.

“He’s not going to hurt you again.” He promised, giving your hand a squeeze. “I won’t let him.”  

“I don’t want him to hurt you.” You emphasized. “If he saw you with me. Even- even as friends – he would- he could.” Bradley interrupted your spiraling thoughts.

“But he won’t. He won’t hurt me, and he won’t hurt you. Okay?” His eyes met yours and you could see how serious he was. Your heart ached.

This man, who you barley fucking knew was promising to keep you safe. Was swearing that nothing would happen to you again. It didn’t feel real. You knew that promising safety wasn’t a reality.

“You’re insane.” Is all you could think of to say back to him. He cracked a big grin- which was a relief to see over his I’m going to kill your ex- boyfriend look.

“Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been told that.” You smirked and took in a deep breath.

Before you could speak, he did.

“Let me take you out to dinner tomorrow.”

You laughed loudly and looked at him only to see that he was dead serious.

“Oh my god, you really are an idiot.”

Bradley laughed louder than you had.

“You know that’s the second time today you’ve called me an idiot. But somehow, I’m still infatuated with you.” He was full on smiling now, and you wished he didn’t look so fucking good.

“I just told you that my psycho ex is out to KILL me.” You reiterated. When he didn’t even flinch, you continued. “AND that if he even saw you with me, he would want to KILL you too!” You exclaimed, fear once again overtaking you. Bradley sat up and leaned into your space while looking deep into your eyes.

“Let me make this clear sweetheart. I’m not scared of that bastard.” He let go of your hand and reached up to your cheek instead. Your heart was thumping.

Oh god was he going to kiss you? Fuck. You didn’t think you were ready for that.

“And if you want to go to dinner with me then you should. Because I’m not going to let anything happen to you or me.” His eyes flickered to your lips- but only for a moment. You felt him tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear before retreating to his seat. You let out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding in.

“I want to get dinner with you.” You said quietly. “But I’m still healing Bradley.” You said with shame dripping from your words. “Knowing that he’s out there looking for me scares the shit out of me.”

Bradley nodded his head in understanding.

“I won’t push you into anything you don’t want to do. Ever.” He said calmly. “I’ll go your pace. And if you decide that I’m an annoying nuisance then just tell me to get lost.”

You giggled at that and smiled at him.

“You’re really something Bradshaw.”

God he was handsome. His soft lips looked more kissable than ever. But you reframed from reaching for them.

“Take my number.”  you said while pulling your phone out of your pocket. You swore you saw him sneak a glance at your chest while you did. It made you smirk.

He took your phone and typed in his number while you TRIED not to stare at how freakishly large his hands were. Not to mention how long his fingers were.

“I’ll text you when I get inside.” You said, tucking your phone away. “Since I know you were going to ask me to anyway.”

Bradley grinned.

“See! You do know me.” He said proudly.

You laughed and opened the car door. You stepped out and looked back at him.

“Thank you- for everything. For listening.” You said softly.

“Anytime.” He said just as soft as you had. “I’ll wait until I see you get inside to leave.” You nodded and went to shut the door but his voice stopped you.

“AND I’ll text you about those dinner plans tomorrow.”

You blushed and nodded before shutting the car door. You walked up to the house door and unlocked it – looking back to wave at Bradley before walking in and closing the door.

As soon as it shut you rubbed your hands over your face.

Holy shit. What have you gotten yourself into with Bradley Bradshaw?

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Part two coming soon if enough people are intersted <3 Comment below if you’d like to be part of tag list.

[sunlightmurdock]

My Future in You | 2.6 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Masterlist

Synopsis: Bradley’s twenty-two years old and not where he’s supposed to be. Then, a hook up at a Halloween party changes his future even more than he could have imagined.

Warnings: accidental pregnancy, references to abortion in a few chapters, angst, will be fluff eventually, will be smut so 18+, enemies to lovers kinda thing, babies and fluff and more babies, bradley being a nervous first time daddy, wc: 3.8k

…

“This… doesn’t look right.” Bradley pulls back and rests his hands against his hips, staring at the car seat with an unimpressed gaze frown.

“Sure it does.” You answer, peering around him to examine the situation in front of you. The straps are secure at the top of his chest, his plush cheek resting against the padded restraints.

“I don’t think so. He doesn’t look comfortable.” Bradley answers you with a shake of his head. This is his second practice of the day. He doesn’t want Tom to be in the car seat too long, but he knows that his most significant job in all of this is getting the two of you home safe.

He leans forwards and begins to fiddle with the straps again. Your newborn doesn’t seem fussed by his neurotic, worried dad anyways. Bradley hums. “Don’t worry, buddy, we’ll figure it out.”

“The Bradshaws! — How are we this morning?”

This, Thomas is fussed by. Over the last six days, the first six of his life, you’ve figured that your son has some pretty sharp reflexes. Even just blowing on his cheek makes him flinch. He jumps, arms and legs tensing at once, his still unfocused eyes blowing wide open as the doctor strolls into the room.

His lip begins to wobble and his nose scrunches up tight, his hands trembling under the confines of his mittens. You nudge Bradley out of the way and unclasp the straps right as Thomas begins to cry.

“Oh, sorry. Didn’t mean to spook this little sweetheart.” The doctor is smiling and reaching out to tickle the infant’s back and on your end, everything is forgiven. Bradley, however, glares at her as he reaches his son.

You hadn’t been expecting the same guy who once jumped off of the roof of a neighbouring frat house and into their pool to be such a nervous nelly when it came to parenthood. Especially not the same guy who told you he wanted no part in any of this.

You roll your eyes, rocking softly, shushing the baby. These past six days have taught you a lot of things. That the birthmark on the bottom of Thomas’ back is kind of the shape of Italy. That even though he can’t see much yet, he likes to look around while he’s being fed. That Bradley is not fast enough at changing diapers yet to avoid getting peed on.

That somehow, you and Bradley might have just created the most perfect little boy in the entire world. With his thatches of brown hair and his tiny fingers and toes, his sloped nose and poured lips. Those funny, jumpy reflexes.

“I’m just here to do some tests, see if we can get you guys home today.” She tells you with a bright smile. From the way that your face changes, she can tell that this is the news that you’ve been waiting for. Six days of barely walking, hearing other people’s babies screaming — you’ve been ready to go home for a while.

“Today? — Nobody said today. They said tomorrow.” Bradley interjects loudly. You scowl across at him and he shuts up, but the nervous way he fidgets on his feet tells you everything you need to know.

“I know, I know. But he’s doing just fine so far, and I’m sure you two are eager to sleep in your own beds again.” The doctor coos softly, learning from her initial mistake as she takes the baby from your arms. She follows your pattern of soothing and rocking and Thomas seems to consider quietening down.

Bradley pushes his hands into the pockets of his sweat shorts and just leans back against the end of the hospital bed. He’s so focused on watching this stranger with your baby that he doesn’t even hear you move until you’re pressing in against his side.

“You’re doing fine.” You promise him, stretching your open palm against the fabric of his black t-shirt, stretching your neck to look at him. “Stop stressing.”

He doesn’t say anything, and that worried frown on his face doesn’t soften either. Bradley swallows, brushes a hand over his upper lip and reaches out for you. You close

Your eyes as he secures an arm around your waist and tugs you closer, leaning down and resting his mouth against the top of your head.

He inhales deeply, breathing in the scent of unfamiliar shampoo and hospital borrowed soap.

“She called you a Bradshaw, you know.” He whispers finally, just before he straightens back up. You scoff, jabbing the tip of your index finger into his side.

“Don’t get any ideas, Pops. It’s bad enough you talked me into letting Tommy take your name.” You’re joking, of course. The amusement in your voice makes his chest feel that little bit less tight. You’ll say yes, one day. He’ll make sure it’s special and you’re not giving birth next time, and you’ll say yes.

He pinches your side playfully and tugs you closer again. “Pops? — I thought we agreed on you calling me—“

He grunts as you jerk your elbow back into his stomach, just enough to make him jolt but not enough to actually hurt the idiot you’ve come to be so fond of. There it is, he grins behind you, his chest rumbling with a soft chuckle.

Minutes later, the doctor turns around to you and gives you the go-ahead. Suddenly, the little boy in the roomy onesie is all yours, and yours alone. Well, not that suddenly, there’s paperwork first. But sudden feels the only appropriate word when you’re walking out of the hospital, with no one to guide you.

Bradley’s knuckles are white around the handle of the car seat in his right hand, a slightly softer approach to the way that he’s holding your hand in his left.

“You’re sure you can walk? — They said you could have a chair, if you want a chair.” He checks, for the second time since you stepped out of the elevator.

“I’m fine.” You give his hand a soft squeeze and groan softly as you step out into the mid-summer suffocation of the Florida heat. “Now walk with purpose. It’s too hot for this.”

Settled into the backseat beside Thomas, sleeping in his car seat, you catch Bradley frowning worriedly back at the both of you before he turns the key in the ignition.

The drive home is slow, and uneventful. The baby is asleep. Bradley’s eyes are trained seriously on the road, his hands holding a steady ten and two position on the wheel. You don’t dare suggest that he turns on the radio.

There were plenty of things that you had prepared yourself for when you had decided to have your baby. Your body changing, fine. Your career plans changing, okay. The hormones and the responsibilities and the tiny human who would depend on you for probably the rest of your life, sure.

Some things about such a drastic lifestyle change simply cannot be planned for.

Nine hours ago, you brought your son home from the hospital. This is something that you would never admit out loud, but in those last few days of your pregnancy, the concern had flooded your mind that maybe your feelings for Bradley were purely hormonal. You were carrying his child, it makes sense that your body would want him around. It was the after that had concerned you.

But, you had watched today as Bradley had carried the car seat in one hand and secured you by his side with the other. He had buckled your son into the car, and he had driven home under the speed limit the entire way.

You exhale softly as you step out of the shower. That’s growing easier now, six days later, but your body is far from healed. Your legs still tremble when you try to stand too long, and your back aches in a way you’re starting to worry might be permanent.

It’s quiet in your apartment now. You listen out as you towel dry your body, trying to find the pitch of a sports narrator or some soft music — anything. It’s almost dead silent.

You wriggle into your pyjamas and wrap your wet hair, walking slow out of the bathroom and down the hall. You’re barely dry, your warm feet padding along the carpet, wrinkled fingers pushing open the door to the bedroom.

One of the things that none of the articles you had read seemed to mention, is what to do the first time that you see the father of your child at home with your baby.

Bradley’s sitting up against the pillows with Thomas nestled against his chest. His hand eclipses the infant’s torso as he pats his back softly. Thomas’ cheek is resting against Bradley’s pectoral, you can’t see from where you are but instinct and your son’s uncharacteristic stillness tells you that he’s sleeping.

Bradley’s singing. He’s patting the baby’s back gently and he’s singing softly, trying hard to push the usually deep rumble of his voice into lullaby territory.

Your mouth falls slack, cold feet becoming still against the soft floor. This tiny first apartment and its discernible wooden doors that creak at every opportunity give you away and he stops just as quickly as he is perceived.

His gaze flickers up and his lips twist softly into a small smile. You watch him take account of your matching maternity pyjamas which threaten to be too big without the stretch of your bump. Amusement floods the hint of the smile on his lips — he loves to laugh at these pyjamas.

His hand stills against Thomas’ back, those glittery brown eyes flicker up to study the look on your face.

“Hey, babe,” He hums, keeping his voice low so that he doesn’t startle the baby. “How was your shower?”

“I didn’t think I would miss our shitty water pressure, but I’m just so glad we’re not at the hospital anymore.” You pad across the carpet towards him and crawl into bed, pulling back the sheets and draping yourself across Bradley’s brawny thighs.

He looks down at you and secures the infant close to his chest, freeing one hand to brush tenderly across your cheek.

“What was that song were you singing him?” You ask. The ceiling fan whirs above you like a thrumming, excessively loud lullaby. The warmth of his thigh props up your cheek.

There’s something about it all that feels too much like a dream. Maybe it’s the lack of sleep. The NICU isn’t exactly a luxury retreat, despite its price point. Tonight is your first night home from the hospital. Your son is six days old and yesterday, he officially crossed the threshold into five pound territory. Tonight, he’s huddled against Bradley’s bare chest, wearing a diaper that had seemed too tiny for an actual human to wear and zipped into a onesie printed with little ducks on it. Geese, maybe, actually.

You lift your hand and reach out, watching your fingertip follow the soft cotton covering those wrinkled lines on the sole of Thomas’ foot that you’ve come to be so familiar with already.

The infant curls his toes and unclenches them again, scrunching his knees. Bradley watches, lips twisted into a smile that he couldn’t fight back if he tried.

There’s something about the steady, heavy thrum of Bradley’s heartbeat that puts the kid right to sleep. The warm bath and the ounce of milk that came before he was set on his dad’s stomach may have helped too. Bradley’s hand cups the back of Thomas’ neck, keeping the sleeping baby steady.

“Wildflowers by, uh— Tom Petty, I think?” Bradley shrugs. In truth, he knows the song inside and out — it was the first song he learned to play on piano. He’s used to playing that down. Girls find guitars hot, not his years of classical piano lessons.

You smile, lifting your head and pressing a gentle kiss to the sole of the baby’s foot, soft blue cottons

against your lips. Then, you lower your mouth and press it softly to Bradley’s stomach. Just once, before you drop your head back down and set it against his thigh.

“He’s so good, and I’m still exhausted.” You murmur, exhaling deeply. Behind heavy lids, you make a mental note to look into which ingredient in the smell of baby soap acts as such a good sleeping agent.

“You should sleep. He’ll be up again in a couple of hours.” Bradley reminds you, stroking damp hair back off of your forehead. Closing your eyes, you nod with him, but make no effort to move. He smiles. “Come on, I don’t need to sing the both of you to sleep, do I?”

You huff a soft sound of amusement, giving a small shake of your head. “Not tonight, Pops. Put him to bed, let’s get some sleep.”

Bradley chuckles, carefully shifting your son off of his stomach and instead laying him across his thighs as you sit up.

“Mom and Dad… isn’t that crazy?” He muses, stroking his thumb across the soft hair on the infant’s head. Thomas is still so small that Bradley’s palm makes him look even tinier. You lean into your boyfriend’s shoulder and stroke the baby’s cheek.

“I know.” You agree quietly.

Big, round cheeks and pursed lips, dark eyelashes and a soft little nose. His tiny hands balled into fists, his knees curled up to his middle. Blue clouds adorning his onesie. Half you, and half Bradley.

“Alright, we’ll see you in a couple hours, little man. Yell if you need something.” Bradley half jokes as he pushes himself up from the bed and turns to set the baby into the bassinet. With the lung capacity he has already impressed you with, you know that he’ll have no issues letting you know if he wants something.

He crawls back into bed beside you and flicks the beside lamp off, pulling the covers up around the two of you. Readily, you press yourself close to him and close your eyes. He smells like baby soap.

“Are you still hurting anywhere?” Bradley’s voice lowers to a whisper now, his breath fanning across the nape of your neck as he leans his head into the crook of your shoulder and cautiously rests a hand against your hip. Into the dark, your mouth twitches at a smile.

Your hips feel both squished and torn apart at the same time. Your back feels like it might never feel quite right ever again. But even with him a cautious distance from you, you can feel the perpetual warmth from his body.

“Everywhere. But I still want you to hold me.”

Slowly, he slides an arm under you and another over you. Draping his body around yours, he pulls you close and suddenly you get whatever it is that sends Thomas off to sleep so easily. The faint musky smell of his fading cologne. The steady, heavy thrum of his heartbeat. The long, deep pattern of his breathing.

Just when you think he has beat you to it, he reminds you that he’s still awake. A soft, chaste kiss presses to your throat, his voice low as he mumbles, “I love you.”

As much as Thomas is a good baby; he’s still a baby. A small one at that, with plenty of growing to do. Even now, he just about finishes an ounce of milk at a time — half of the time. That means a lot of wake ups. A lot of diaper changes with your eyes half open.

The first four days of parenthood pass you by before you’ve really come to terms with the reality of it all. Constant feeds through the night, surviving off of instant noodles and pizza — all of this doesn’t feel too far of a stretch from your recent college days.

But it’s harder now. The responsibilities are never ending. It’s hard to remain rational about any of it.

“If you could breastfeed, would you do it?”

From the other end of the couch, Bradley seems to startle awake. Brows drawing together in confusion, he stares across your dimly lit living room at you, then takes a second to look around him.

You’re at the end of the movie now, so he doesn’t have a clue how long he has been sleeping. Stretching his legs out, he sighs softly, “Yeah. I guess so.”

Your mouth twitches at the fact that he doesn’t even ask you why. He blinks softly and brings both hands up to rub at his eyes tiredly.

“What time is it?”

“Two, maybe.” You shrug, watching Thomas’ eyelids grow heavy. His hands remain balled and tucked in against his chest. He has spent these past four days stretching out occasionally, scrunching himself back into a tight ball frequently.

“No fucking way did I just sleep for four hours. The movie’s still playing.” Bradley protests, awkwardly fumbling to push himself upright and puckering his mouth into a deep frown. You just shrug across at him once more.

“I put the sequel on after you fell asleep.”

He hadn’t ever thought he would be able to have a regular conversation with a woman who had her breast out in front of him, but here he is. It doesn’t even cross his mind to check you out. The only thing he’s thinking about is the fact you’re running on maybe an hour of uninterrupted sleep and all you had wanted was to watch your movie with him. And he had fallen asleep.

He fumbles around, checking his pockets for his phone, finding it instead resting between his jaw and shoulder. You close your eyes for a moment as he checks the time. In the split second that your eyes are shut, Thomas makes a spluttering sound.

As quickly as you can lift and turn him, the has already spit the last mouthful of milk back against your skin and all down his chin.

“Oh, Tommy…” You groan, adjusting the strap of your nursing bra with one hand as you support him with the other.

“Here, I’ll take him.” Bradley offers, pushing himself up and starting to scoot towards you.

“We’re fine.” Maybe it comes out a little bit harsh, maybe your tone is a little colder than normal. Bradley frowns at you, sitting still at the opposite end of the sectional. “Just go back to sleep.”

“Hey, I didn’t mean to—“

“I know you didn’t.” You’re just doubling down at this point as you wipe at Thomas’ mouth with a muslin cloth. Bradley’s brows draw together a bit.

“So why are you mad at me? — Just let me help you.” He pushes forwards again and reaches for your son.

“I said we’re fine!” You bite back. The baby flinches and quickly starts to scream. You slam your eyes shut, darkness behind your lids and a dull ache drilling from your temples to the core of your brain.

Opposite you, Bradley sighs, dropping his head forward into his hands. You’re both silent. The sequel plays on. The baby keeps on screaming. Neither one of you look at each other.

This is what all new parents go through, you know that. It doesn’t make it any less sore in the moment.

“What should I do?” Bradley asks finally, pushing up from the sofa and squeezing against your side, wrapping an arm around your aching shoulders. It’s not worth dragging your eyes open for.

“Never get me pregnant again, for starters.” You mutter half-jokingly. Bradley chuckles at your side and turns his head to kiss at those sore temples, like he can feel where it hurts. Maybe those dad-senses are sharper than you give him credit for.

“Not even once more? — But look how cute the first one wa—“ He’s only joking of course, but he still has the good sense to shut up when you turn your head and glare at him. He grins, and he looks just like he did the first time you were stupid enough to melt for that pretty look.

“You hungry?” Bradley asks. He read somewhere that breastfeeding can cause stronger appetites.

“Yeah.”

“Dad’s got it. We’ll be right back.” Bradley promises you, dipping forwards and kissing your temple once more, stealing the baby in one fell swoop. “Come on, buddy.”

Bradley pads into the kitchen barefoot, bouncing the baby in his arms and you let your eyes fall shut once more. You’re only two weeks in. They don’t start sleeping through the night for another couple months at least — sometimes years. You don’t know how you could do another couple years of being this delirious.

Closing your eyes, it’s easy enough to imagine that you’re not here. That you’re still in school, or still in your parents’ house. Somewhere safer, where you could hide from the limited responsibilities that you had back then. It would be so easy to drift off into a dream about life being that easy again.

Instead, the sofa dips at your side and your boys are back. Bradley announces himself by kissing your cheek softly and pressing a spoon into your hand.

“All we have is Ice-Cream.” He tells you, settling Thomas into the crook of his elbow and passing the tub of ice cream off to you. You blink at the vanilla flavoured frozen treat in front of you, then look up to stare at him. “I’ll go to the store tomorrow. We’ll both go. You can stay here and sleep in.”

You look away for just a second, digging the tip of your spoon into the ice cream, and hear him continue.

“We can get whatever we want, Mommy won’t be there to tell us no.”

Despite your best efforts, a smile itches its way across your face. You turn your head and attempt to force at a scowl. All five of Thomas’ right-hand fingers are wrapped around Bradley’s little finger, they both seem to be looking at you.

“I don’t care what you come home with as long as there’s more of this stuff in there somewhere.” You decide, slipping a spoonful into your mouth and savouring the flavour on your tongue. Bradley shifts, leaning his head against yours.

“Share.” He demands, leaving his mouth open. You snuff your nose at him as you dig another spoonful from the tub and shovel it into his mouth. “That’s so good.”

“Probably not what we should be eating. We aren’t setting a very good example.” You hum, ignoring your own advice and gulping down another spoonful, kicking your feet up onto the coffee table.

If only your mother could see you now. She would lose her marbles if she saw your approach to motherhood.

“Eh, this kid pees himself all day long. We’ll start being good examples for him later on.” Bradley shrugs, leaning his weight into you, turning his attention back to the tv. “So can you explain to me what I missed?”

…

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[ohtobeleah]

An Angel’s Discretion //

Summary: When Bradley gets a call to say you’ve been involved in a major car accident, his whole world is turned upside down.

Warnings: Bradley Bradshaw x wifeF!reader. Car Accident. Pregnancy, Bradley in a state of existential crisis. Pre-mature birth. Hurt/comfort. Goose cameo.

Word Count: 3.5k

It felt like time stood still yet had sped up all at the same time. Your entire world had been flipped on its head in the blink of an eye—you felt like your entire life was flashing before your eyes. A Rolodex of memories played out before you as you spun out and rolled down into the embankment. You didn’t know exactly how it happened or why it happened - but regardless of that, it still very much happened and you were still very much in trouble. 

It had been god awful weather recently, so much so the Dagger’s had been grounded for the better half of a week. Bradley had been home for a change, pottering around the house baby proofing sharp edges and making sure the crib was set up just like the instruction book had said. 

It seemed that people truly believed that the car you were trapped in for nearly half an hour had flipped and rolled hours ago. An empty mangled car on the side of the road—nobody stopped to see if there were any occupants. Nobody stopped to snoop. Nobody heard your cries— the cries of a woman in unimaginable pain. Hoping, praying, as you remained helplessly tangled in your seat belt. You had blood gushing from wounds you didn’t know what exactly had been caused by and had bones that shattered from impact. 

You stayed there, trapped in a mess of broken glass and twisted aluminum, whimpering as you rubbed your swollen belly. Seven months. Seven beautiful months carrying your child. Bradley’s daughter. You’d spent seven months promising to keep her safe - keep her sound. You didn’t know the gender but the feeling was there and it was strong, you were having a little baby girl. 

Bradley wanted to keep the gender a surprise, but you knew deep down with every fibre of your being that you were having a girl, that he’d be a girl dad till his dying day. But as you slowly brought your hand up to cup over your bellybutton? You knew something was utterly wrong.

“We’re okay, aren’t we spud.” You mumbled as your vision blurred and your head became far too heavy for you to keep it lifted. “Mama’s gonna take ca-care of you.” You struggled out before succumbing to the feeling of emptiness as you drifted into unconsciousness—the sound of your shattered phone playing your doting husband's ringtone. Replay by iyaz. One final smile appeared on your bloodied broken face as you heard the all too familiar sound. 

Before.....nothing. 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

“Baby seats shouldn’t be this complicated to fit!” Bradley groaned as he tried to figure out how to secure the baby seat into the backseat of the Bronco. Jake was too busy trying to reread the instructions. “Nope, I can’t do this right now I need a break.” The pair of naval aviators had been off work for the better half of the week and while you were out grocery shopping, Jake had come over to lend a helping hand at putting together some flat pack furniture. “Good thing this baby isn’t coming for another few months.” 

“Ah, you’ve jinxed it now!” Jake teased, clicking his fingers at Bradley to grab his attention. “Also, apparently it’s meant to face the other way round.” Jake grinned ear to ear as Bradley deadpanned him. Giving up in entirety before he turned back to the house with a huff. “Oh come on! Where are you going, Rooster! we almost had it!” Jake laughed, jogging after his wingman up to the house. 

“I need a beer!” It had been a long afternoon for the two men who had done nothing but unpack and organise the nursery. Bradley was in his own nesting phase. He’d read in a bunch of parents books that nesting was something you’d go through in preparation for the little spud on the way. He was now finding that he was doing it too. 

“Oh I’ll take one too.” Jake trailed behind Rooster into the kitchen. “Job well done deserves a bevy.” Just as Bradley opened the fridge and passed Jake the Budweiser, his phone began to ring out on the kitchen counter. “Oh—unknown number man.” Jake announced. 

“It’s probably Y/n.” Bradley twirled his wedding band as he stood to answer his phone that was sitting on the kitchen bench, not recognising the number lighting up his screen. For a moment he wasn’t going to answer because why would you be calling from an unknown number. But he just had a gut feeling. He’d called you a few times before hand but you never answered, maybe this was you calling him back? 

“Hello?”

“Hello? Is this Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw?” A woman who sounded more panicked than calm spoke—needing a confirmation before continuing with her call. 

“This is he?” Bradley responded, turning back to Jake with a confused look on his face, eyes glancing up at the time. Five thirty in the afternoon. You should have been home an hour ago. 

“Lieutenant Bradshaw, we’ve just had a one Y/n Bradshaw admitted.” The woman on the other end of the phone call Bradley almost didn’t answer, explained. “Your wife, she’s unfortunately been involved in a severe accident and—“ Bradley didn’t hear the rest of what the nurse had to say as he dropped his phone, it clunked and clambered from the kitchen bench to the tiled floor below. “Hello? Mr Bradshaw?” Unable to process the news he’d just been told Bradley began to panic as his vision tunnel and his mind went numb. 

“Jake—“ Was it Bradley’s fault? Was he a terrible husband for not noticing how long you’d been gone? Was there something wrong with your car? You’d mentioned a time or two that the air conditioning had been making a funny noise. “Jake I can’t breathe—“ Bradley clutched at his chest as he groaned, it felt like his entire world was collapsing around him. “I can’t fucking breathe.” 

“Oh-okay, yeah we’re leaving right now.” Jake confirmed as he spoke to the lady on the phone. Hangman had picked up the phone Rooster had dropped, he listened to what the woman on the other end of the line had to say as Bradley started to sob, losing his grip on reality. 

Jake reached out to touch Bradley’s shoulder in an attempt to confront the aviator who’s world had just shattered into a million pieces, the moment he did though Jake Seresin witnessed his best friend collapse down to his knees in unimaginable pain at the thought of losing you. His girl. His wife. His best friend. The love of his life. The mother of...oh god the mother of his child. 

“Rooster we gotta g—“

“I can’t lose her!!” Bradley screamed as warm tears drenching his flushed face. “Can’t—won't lose her. I can’t!” Jake knew Bradley was hyperventilating, he’d seen a panic attack a time or two before when Bob had stayed in his spare room while his house was being painted. Jake also knew a panic attack when he saw one because he got them too. But this? This was a panic attack shrouded in heartache, one Jake would never understand. 

“Hey, hey Rooster.” Jake crouched down before his wingman— knowing he needed all the strength he could get. On the inside Jake was a mess. If Bradley lost you that meant Jake lost you too. Holding the back of Bradley’s head as he leaned in. “Listen man, this is so fucked up but she needs you, Y/n needs you to be there for her because she can’t do this alone? Alright? We gotta go— you’re her husband Rooster.” Jake reminded him. “Y/n needs her husband to be there for her okay? In sickness and in health you promised her.” 

Bradkey sobbed uncontrollably—but he got up. Knowing Hangman was right. You needed him, and like fuck was he gonna let you slip through his fingers. 

“Okay, okay let’s go.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~

It’s needless to say Bradley Bradshaw was a mess—a sobbing, shaking, totally exhausted figment of his former stoic self in the private waiting room nurses had told him to wait in. Jake contacted your mum and dad, he called Mav and Penny too who were already on their way over to the Miramar Base Hospital because hell was Mav somewhat sob going to go through this alone. 

“We don’t know what’s going on.” Bradley could just faintly hear Jake on the phone with Phoenix as he sat and twisted his wedding band around his ring finger. It kept him grounded but the tangible reminder of your love did nothing to stop Rooster's mind from thinking of the very worst. 

“We haven’t been told a single thing—“ Jake sighed as he ran his hand through his sun kissed hair locks. “No, no he’s not in a good way.” 

Bradley could hear only Jake's voice and only his answers. But he knew Phoenix would be going stir crazy not know what had happened or what was going on, they all would be. Every single member of Bradley’s naval squadron had become like family to you both. Extensions on the small albeit perfect family you were just starting. 

Bradley thought he knew heartbreak, thought he’d been through pain. He’d lost his dad when he was just shy of three years old and his mother just after his seventh birthday. But nothing—nothing, compared to the heartache of not knowing what was happening to you. If you were alive, if your baby was okay? If Rooster had just lost his young family before it had a chance to grow old. 

“Lieutenant Bradshaw?” An older looking woman in scrubs asked as she knocked. Both Bradley and Jake looked up—both just as desperate for answers. “Hi” She cooed. “My names Jannette, I’ve been with your wife since she came in—“

“H-how is she?” Bradley could barely speak at this point, he was too afraid to know but needed answers. Although he’d stood from the chair he’d been perched in he still twirled his wedding band around his finger. He still needed that tangible reminder. You loved him, no matter what the outcome was you would always love him. To the moon and back and twice over you’d say before he left for deployments. 

In all Bradley’s years he always thought he’d be the one leaving you behind—he never once thought his wife that cut and arranged flowers for a living would leave him, the naval aviator who flew super hornets for a living. But here he stood in some twisted parallel universe that felt like a plot ripped straight from an episode of the twilight zone. 

“She’s critical, my colleagues are still working on her as we speak.” The room went silent as Bradley forgot how to breathe. Jake was by his side in seconds. “It's touch and go.” 

“My baby? How’s my baby?” If anything mattered to you, it was your unborn child. Bradley knew if anything happened to them that you'd never forgive yourself. You’d rather die than live a life without your baby. You’d done everything in your power to make sure they had the best chance of being strong and healthy and safe. You’d been the perfect mother. 

“She” The nurse smiled. “Is okay, we did however have to do an emergency c-section because your wife was unfortunately not able to carry her to full turn due to her uterus filling with blood.” It was a whirlwind of emotions. Bradley Bradshaw was suddenly a father, he had a baby girl. 

“Rooster, you have a little girl.” Jake helped Bradley take a few agonising steps as he took in the news. You’d given him a baby girl. A tiny little you. How could he ever thank you enough? How could he ever begin to repay that debt of gratitude, of love? 

“You can see her if you’d like? She’s in the NICU.” Jannette explained. “But you won’t be able to touch her without protection until she’s used to the new environment, premature babies can catch infections and colds despite our best efforts, so it’s best she says in the incubation chamber.”

“C’mon Bradshaw, let's go meet your little girl, yeah? You know Y/n wouldn’t want her left alone.” Jake was right. Bradley could hear everything going on around him but he couldn’t speak. He was still taking all this in. He was a dad, a girl dad. He was the father to your daughter and you weren’t here to see him start this new chapter. 

God it was bittersweet. 

“When will I know how my wife is?” Bradley asked as he followed the nurse he towered over—she had a little waddle that Jake couldn’t help but notice. 

“You’ll be the first to know her updated condition, Lieutenant, but from what I’ve seen so far your wife is one hell of a fighter, not a lot of people in her condition would’ve come out of that alive.”

Braduheld onto that tiny shred of hope, clung to it for dear life as he followed the nurse to meet his baby’s girl—way too early. How do you introduce yourself to a baby? Jake was right beside him. Do you think Jake Seresin would ever let his wingman walk alone through such a tragedy? 

Absolutely not. 

“Bradley, this is your daughter, obviously she doesn’t have a name so we called her Jane as protocol - short for Jane Doe.” The little girl was so incredibly tiny. She was dwarfed by wires and tubes connected all over her tiny body helping her little lungs breathe. Bradley couldn’t distinguish if she looked more like you or him. But fuck he wished she looked like you. He took a seat next to the incubator that held his bundle of joy. The joy he’d been blessed with by you. The joy and light of his world he’d helped create, a blend of you and him. 

“H-hey little one.” Rooster struggled to talk. “I’m your Dadda, your mums in a little bit of a situation right now but I’ve got you yeah?” Tears ran down Bradley’s face as he placed a fingertip against the glass. “I’m not gonna let anything bad happen to you, ever.” 

Rooster always said he’d never love anyone more than he’d love you—but this little girl? God she was already Bradley’s entire fucking world. For a single second he forgot you were in surgery. Watching as your daughter's tiny lips curled into a soft smile of a mere second. Bradley liked to think it was her acknowledging his presents. 

“Bradley?” Jannette interrupted, Bradley had forgotten all sense of time as he sat with his baby girl. “It’s your wife—she’s stable, sleeping but stable. She’s being moved to the ICU for around the clock observation.”

“When can I Uh, when can I see her?” Bradley let out a sob as he thanked the heavens above, his little family was okay—not great, not thriving with heath, but okay. Stable. Jake finally allowed himself to breathe for the first time all night. 

“We can go up there if you like?” Bradley nodded in response—looking over at Jake who already knew what his wingman was about to ask. 

“I’ll stay here, keep her company, go get your girl Rooster.” Jake hugged Bradley as tight as he ever had before. “You’re a dad man, congratulations.” Being the big brother Bradley needed but didn’t have. “I got you brother.”

Bradley didn’t know what to do when he first saw you—he stood at the doorway just staring at the women who had given him everything. So injured, so hurt. And he couldn’t do anything to help ease your pain. Even through all the injuries, tubs and wires, much like the little girl you gave precious life to, you still look beautiful. So gorgeous, so at peace. 

A soft “oh god” escaped Bradley’s mouth as he held back sobs walking towards you. Nurse Jannette giving him the space he so desperately needed with you. Bradley took in the sight before him. His beautiful wife, mother of his daughter, laying so lifeless in a hospital bed. He wished so bad you could be at home with him right now, tangled in the warm sheets, smiling and being your “happy go lucky” self instead of here. He wished so badly he could take you anywhere else in the world. 

Anywhere but here—like this. 

“Hey beautiful.” Bradley whispered. Biting his bottom lip to stop himself from breaking down for what felt like the one hundredth time tonight. “You don’t know it yet but you’re a mama, and dammit baby you’ll be the best fucking mum on earth.” Bradley grabbed the nearby seat and pulled it close. Once his hand was in yours there was no place else Rooster wanted to be then right by your side. Although he wished the two of you could be anywhere else together. 

“You’re gonna be okay baby, maybe not today or next week? But you’ll be okay. I won’t let you be anything but okay.” Bradley mumbled through soft sobs as he took notice of every injury that plagued your body. Every cut, stitch, wrap and blood stained patch that littered the soft and supple skin he loved so much. Bradley especially noticed the gash on your cheek—stitched. 

As Rooster sat with you, he could see your eyelids moving. He knew you were conscious, just sleeping. Heavily medicated, he knew you could hear every word he spoke. But soon Bradley Bradshaw watched in awe as you placed your hand over your stomach. Checking to see if your little spud was alright. When you noticed how small your stomach felt you moaned. 

“My—my baby?” Your eyes weren’t even open yet and you already knew something was terribly wrong. Even if your entire body was in agonising pain you needed to make sure your baby was alright. 

“Hey shh, shh, shh, I got you.” Bradley cooed, his hand gently reaching out to cup your cheek—the side without any noticeable injuries that would bring you discomfort. “She’s alright mama, she’s here a little early but she’s okay—j-just like you yeah.” 

“She?” Your eyes opened slowly at the sound of your husband’s voice—your neck killed as you turned to face him. Giving up quickly. Bradley was quick to notice the wince you let out. 

“She mama, our little girl. Both my girls gave me a pretty big heart attack this afternoon huh? Are you trying to kill me honey?” Bradley smiled. Noticing how you smiled back for a brief moment before the muscles in your cheeks gave up. 

“I’m so sorry” You whispered—eyes closed again as you couldn’t stand the light of the room. “I don’t know what happened— no one came though.” You started to cry. “No one came when I called for help for so long.” Bradley leaning in to place a gentle kiss to your forehead. 

“I’m here, I came, I’m not going anywhere my love.” Rooster sobbed back, sometimes being strong meant crying along with the ones you love. “God I thought I lost you.” 

“He said it wasn’t my time to go.” You sighed, clearly fighting off the urge to fall asleep. So groggy from the medicine that even the thought of being a mother hadn’t truly set in yet—all you cared about was that your baby was safe. She was alive. 

“Who did bub? One of the paramedics?” Bradley asked, a little confused as he pushed hair away from your face and made sure the oxygen tube was sitting just right. 

“He was in the car, said I couldn’t leave you yet, that you’d be lost without me.” You softly grinned while your eyes rested. “Had a moustache just like yours.” 

Bradley sat back in shock as he watched you drift back to sleep. Holding your hand thinking how the universe worked in mysterious ways. Bradley had promised to love you in good times and in bad - through sickness and in health. He’d live in the damn hospital if he had to—anything to be by your side. 

“God I hate it when he does this.” Goose groaned as he watched his son’s name appear on the shattered phone on the floor of your busted up car. “You’re not ready, it’s not your time so why bother even putting your through this crap.” The man spoke as you fell unconscious. “It’s not your time my dear and my son certainly needs you by his side or he’ll go crazy.” You listened, tried to nod, smile, anything to let him know you heard him. “You’ll be alright kid.”

Bradley Bradshaw had his family. He had his daughter, he had you. Going back and forth with Jake from room to room watching as both his girls slept. Both of you were still so unaware of the turmoil Bradley had been through. He nearly lost you. Without you? Bradley would’ve been helpless. 

But someone watching over him knew that as well as he did. A guardian angel not only watched over him....

But over his girls too.

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~*

[fanficgirl429]

Returning Home

Prompt: Y/N returns home for Iceman’s funeral and runs into her ex, Bradley Bradshaw. 

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: sex

------

It had been nearly five years since Y/N had stepped foot in Fightertown. It held a lot of good memories but there were also memories that she had tried to erase.

The moment she had learned that Iceman had passed, she dropped what she was doing and booked a flight to her hometown. Ice had helped her father out in more than one way and she couldn’t imagine missing the funeral.

Her return flight was merely hours after the funeral ended- she had decided that she didn’t want to stay any longer than she needed.

Her boyfriend had offered to accompany her but she told him to stay home- she would only be gone for two days. Although he had looked slightly offended, he eventually agreed to stay.

Y/N and her father had just left the wake and after much protesting from her dad, she had agreed to one drink at the Hard Deck.

“Maverick!” Penny called, walking towards the father and daughter duo. “How are you doing?”

She pulled him in for a quick hug before looking over at Y/N. “Y/N! It’s so nice to see you again. Your dad has been sure to keep me up to date on how you have been doing.”

“It’s nice to see you too!” Y/N replied. The last time she had seen Penny was five years ago. At the time she had no idea in just a few years Penny would be dating her dad.

“I wish it was under other circumstances but I’m glad you’re here nonetheless.”

Penny walked behind the bar and handed Maverick his favorite beer. “What can I get you?” she asked Y/N.

“Oh water is fine,” Y/N said. “I want to be conscious for my flight.”

Penny laughed and filled up a clear plastic cup with water. She glanced around the bar, surprised to find that not much had changed. The piano was still in the exact same spot as well as the classic jukebox.

Memories flooded her head as she remembered standing around the piano singing with her friends and trying to find the perfect song to play on the jukebox.

“How’s Jack doing?” Penny asked, referring to Y/N’s boyfriend of just over a year.

“He’s doing good. He just got a huge job promotion yesterday,” Y/N told her, smiling.

“That’s wonderful. Hopefully I can meet him soon.”

Y/N agreed and looked over at her father. “How is Top Gun going?”

“It’s going ok. Some people aren’t too keen on my teaching strategies,” he told her, picking at the label on his bottle.

Y/N nodded all to familiar with her father’s flying antics. “Did I tell you that Bradley is there as well?”

Bradley was Y/N’s ex boyfriend. They had been together for nearly 4 years before she had decided to end things.

Y/N looked over at Maverick, eyes wide. “N-no you didn’t. How is he doing?”

Maverick shrugged. “Well he doesn’t want to talk to me.”

“Well you did really hurt him,” Y/N said, taking a sip of her water.

Right after they had broken up, Y/N had learned that her father had pulled Bradley’s papers to stop him from flying. Of course, Bradley had been pissed and stopped talking to Maverick. Her dad had reached out numerous times to him to apologize but Bradley had never responded.

Y/N looked around at the numerous people at the bar. There were a few couples sitting at tables and nursing their drinks. She had learned from her dad that pilots from Top Gun often came to the Hard Deck to blow off some steam. After learning the news about Bradley being back in town, she hoped that he wouldn’t show up.

Y/N looked over at her dad, who had a scowl etched across his face. He was watching a group of young pilots who had just walked in.  

“That’s about half of my class right there,” he said, nodding in the pilot's directions. “If they bother you, let me know.”

Y/N’s eyes wandered over to a tall blonde who was rather good looking. Next to him, stood another pilot- this one all too familiar. Tall, brown hair, brown eyes, and a mustache (that was new). Bradley Bradshaw. Y/N’s ex boyfriend.

Things between the two of them had not ended well. Their relationship had been rocky for a while and after a big argument which resulted in the two of them not speaking for days, Y/N had decided to end it. It was one of the hardest decisions that she had ever had to make. Their lives were going in two different directions and they had both been young.

Bradley’s eyes locked with hers and he gave her a small smile. She smiled back, thoughts racing through her head. Should I go say hi? Should I wait and see if he’ll come over? Maybe he’ll come say hi to my dad as an excuse to come see me?

Minutes ticked by and neither of them made any attempt to talk to each other. Growing restless, Y/N excused herself and walked towards the restroom. She quickly glanced over at Bradley, who was currently talking to a female pilot. A small bit of jealously hit Y/N. Shaking it off, she walked into the bathroom to have a moment to herself.

Y/N took a deep breath before stepping out of the bathroom. Her plan was to pay her tab and then leave and get ready to go home.

Bradley was leaning against the wall, arms folded against his chest, as if waiting for Y/N to come out of the bathroom.

“Y/N, can we talk?” he said.

“I don’t have anything to say to you,” Y/N told him and began to walk away.

His hand gently wrapped around her arm, pulling her back towards him. Her heart skipped a beat from his touch as she looked at him.

“What do you want Bradley?” Y/N asked.

Bradley sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “I-I’m not sure. I just wanted to talk to you.”

Y/N let out a laugh. “It’s been five years, Bradley. You could have just picked up the phone if you wanted to talk that badly.”

“Would you have answered?”

Y/N shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t know. I was really angry with you.”

“Clearly. You left town.”

“I had to. I think if I would have seen you again, I would have come running back to you but we were so bad for each other at the time. I think that maybe if we were older and had our lives figured out a bit more we could have made it work.”

Bradley’s eyes went wide at Y/N’s honesty but he knew that she was right. Timing was everything.

“There hasn’t been a day gone by that I haven’t thought about you. I know that it has been years but when I said that you were the one meant for me, I truly meant it. I still think that you’re meant for me,” he told her.

Deep down Y/N knew that he was right. She thought about him at least once a day. The question of did she make the right decision was also constantly on her mind. Sure, she loved Jake but it was different than when she was with Bradley. She thought that maybe it was because Bradley was her first true love but after seeing him now, she knew it was because she was still in love with him.

Slowly reaching out, he laced his fingers with hers and pulled her closer to him. She quickly glanced around to make sure there were no prying eyes. Luckily the bathrooms were in the back and they would be able to hear if anyone was coming down the short hallway.

Y/N wrapped her arms around Bradley’s waist as he hugged her tightly. He was more toned than she remembered but she wasn’t complaining. He still smelled exactly the way that he used to and when he held her, it felt like it was just the two of them.

Slowly, Bradley leaned down and placed his lips against Y/N’s. Together their lips moved in sync, almost as if no time had passed between them. His tongue slipped into her mouth, tangling with hers.

Bradley’s hands moved down to Y/N hips and gently pushed back her so that her back was pressed against the wall. His thumb slipped underneath the hem of her shirt and made slow circles against her hip. Goosebumps rose in their wake as she remembered exactly what Bradley’s touch did to her.

A dull ache began to form between her legs and she squeezed her thighs together, hoping to make it go away but knew that it wouldn’t.

Bradley’s body was pressed up against hers and she could his erection pressing against her stomach. Reaching down, she gently squeezed him through his jeans and he let out a low moan, pulling away from her.

“Fuck Y/N,” Bradley breathed. “I want you so fucking much.”

Without pausing to think about the consequences, Y/N grabbed Bradley’s hand and pulled him towards the womans one person bathroom.

“Are you sure?” Bradley asked, hesitantly.

“Yea.”

When the door was closed and locked behind them, Bradley reached down and pulled Y/N’s t shirt over head, revealing her black lacy bra. She gave herself a silent applause as she was thankful she had chosen her good bra as opposed to her old beat up one.

Bradley eye’s went wide as he started at her in awe of her body. It was better than he had remembered. He pulled her back against him and locked his lips back to hers. This time the kiss was full of need and lust.

HIs fingers toyed with the waistband of her jeans before unbuttoning and unzipping them. He slipped his hand down to her core and ran his fingers along the outside of her underwear before pushing the material aside.

Y/N let out a moan as his fingers found her sensitive spot and began to rub against it. Closing her eyes, Y/N let the sensation take over her body. Her breathing picked up speed as she felt herself reach her climax.

Bradley placed a hand over her mouth as she cried out, reaching her high.

After a moment, Y/N opened her eyes to find Bradley smirking. She playfully hit him in the arm and he let out a laugh.

He leaned down and gave her a quick kiss before unbuttoning his jeans and pulling them down along with his black boxer briefs.

Precum had already formed on his length and Y/  reached out and ran her thumb along the tip. Bradley sucked in a deep breath as she wrapped her hand along his length and slowly moved it up and down.

“I’m gonna come now if you don’t stop,” Bradley warned as he placed a large hand on top of hers. “And I want to come inside of you.”

Y/N removed her hand and reached down and unbuttoned her jeans and slid them down along with her underwear down to her knees.

Bradley placed his hands on her waist and turned her around, facing away from him. She reached out and placed her hands against the wall to steady herself. Bradley ran his length along her core, teasing her.

“Bradley,” Y/N whined as he pressed a finger against her sensitive spot.

Bradley lined himself up with Y/N’s core and slowly pushed into her. She let out a small gasp from the feeling before he pulled out and pushed back into her. He began to move his body slowly against hers.

One his hands gripped her shoulder, well the other one held onto her waist, keeping her steady. Y/N’s hands were still placed against the wall as she kept herself steady.

The small bathroom was filled with the sound of heavy breathing and occasional sounds from the other side of the door, reminding the two of them where they were. Somehow no one had knocked on the door yet.

A knot began to form in Y/N’s stomach as she climbed closer and closer to the edge. Shew knew that Bradley was close because he began to move quicker against her.

WIthin moments, her walls clenched around him as he released into her. The two of them stood still for a moment, catching their breath.

When Y/N was ready, she stood up and Bradley pulled out of her, wrapping his arms around her waist, holding her against him. Her legs were wobbly as she held onto him, not wanting him to let go. It felt right when his arms were wrapped around her but then reality hit.  

Y/N pulled away from Bradley, feeling her face turn a deep shade of red.

“Oh my god,” she said quietly, reaching down and pulling up her underwear and pants.

“Y/N, whats wrong?” Bradley asked.

“I-um-I have a boyfriend,” she told him, scrambling to pull her shirt on.

Bradley stood in front of her and put his hands on her shoulders. “I meant everything that I said earlier. I want to be with you but if you don’t want to be or if you need time, I respect that.”

At this point, Y/N wanted nothing more than to be with Bradley but she hated the thought of letting Jake go, however she knew that she had to. What she had with Bradley was too strong to resist.

“I’ll call you in a few days,” she told him, kissing him quickly before leaving the tiny bathroom.

She was terrified about what was going to happen but also could not wait to see what the future held with Bradley.

[roosterbruiser]

since we had so much fun doing this the first time, here's part two (and there are more parts to come)....

if you were dating Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, what would be your contact photo for him and what would be your lock screen?

here are mine (left is contact photo and right is lock screen):

reblog or another 2024773046835 years of badluck

[7seas-of-ryy]

Yes Ma’am

Author’s Note: I feel like Rooster would definitely say yes ma’am all the time in a sweet way! Also italics are flashbacks

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: Rooster makes you flustered and he knows it ;)

Warnings: None!! A lot of fluff and implied smut

...

You don’t know why it makes you so hot and bothered, but it does. And of course he noticed. The one and only Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw. Damn him. It had happened randomly one day, and your reaction was engraved in his brain.

You were cleaning up at the bar and couldn’t reach some cleaning supplies. The whole group stayed behind and helped you clean up despite you telling them it was fine.

“Hey Bradshaw, can you come help me reach this?” You asked, struggling to reach.

“Yes ma’am” He replied simply and grabbed the supplies down.

You immediately went red. Something about those two words made you suddenly forget how to breath. Especially those two words directed at you, coming from that man.

Rooster noticed how you reacted. He didn’t mean it in a flirty way but he took note of how flustered it made you. 

Since that day, Rooster has made sure to say that to you as often as he could. You reacted the same every time. He loved it. He would even try to get you to ask something so he could respond with it.

“Hey y/n, do you like my new shirt?” He had asked you one day

“It looks just like your other Hawaiian shirts. That’s new?” You asked confused

“Yes ma’am, it is” He smirked at you

“Oh- uh- well its’s very- uh nice yeah..” You stuttered and started walking away fast.

He laughed and watched as you practically ran away.

A few days later everyone was having drinks together and you were sat next to Rooster. 

“Is that the new beer we just got in?” You asked him, wondering because you wanted to try it too.

“Yes ma’am”, he let out a small laugh and looked you right in the eyes, “Wanna try it?”

“Oh uh it’s ok, I don’t wanna take any of your drink” You said as heat spread through your body. You were sure you looked just like a tomato. 

“Don’t worry darlin’, here, try it” He held the cup up to you and you took a sip. He watched you the entire time.

“That’s really good!” You stated

“Yes ma’am, very good” Rooster was wanting to see how flustered he could get you.

You couldn’t take it. Your body felt like it was on fire. This man was killing you.

“Alright I think I’m gonna head out guys” You said quickly and left. Before you got to your car you felt Rooster grabbing your hand. You turned around to look at him and he kept walking forward til your back hit the car. He put his arms on either side of you, trapping you.

You were looking up at him through your eyelashes, unsure of what was happening.

“Bradley?” You said

“Yes ma’am?” He replied

“Can you kiss me?” You asked as you ran your hands up his chest and around his neck

“Yes ma’am” He groaned and started to kiss you. You two made out for a while just like that. His hands roamed your body and yours stayed put on his neck. Eventually he pulled away

“So, “Yes ma’am” does it for ya?” He joked with you.

“Ughhh I don’t even know, when you say it it’s my weakness for some reason” You looked down embarrassed. That comment went straight to his ego.

“Oh so it’s only when I say it?” He laughed “I’ll say it all day long if it means I get to kiss you”

Your heart fluttered and you smiled at him.

“So, can I have another kiss?” He asked you

“Yes, sir” You replied cheekily. 

He groaned and put his head on your shoulder.

“I get it now because if you say that again, I’ll have to take you back to my place” He said in a low strained voice. You leaned into him.

“Yes sir” You whispered in his ear. Oh yeah, you were in for a long night.

...

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