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croimilis · 2 years

Text

The Arrangement

title: the arrangement

characters: bradley ‘rooster’ bradshaw x doctor!mitchell!reader (rooster calls them angel)

words: 20k +

themes: childhood friends to strangers to friends to lovers, fake dating (minor), fluff, , smut, mutual pinning, idiots not realising they’re in love

rating: 18+

warnings: female identifying reader and female anatomy used, mentions of parental and canon character death, panic attacks, fingering (f receiving), oral (f receiving), fingering, penetrative sex (p in v), rooster has a lieutenant kink, rooster in dress whites, praise kink, unprotected sex, scratching, biting, cream pie, overstimulation

summary: 'he laughed, my darling you will never be unloved by me you are too well tangled in my soul' @atticuspoetry

You and rooster made an arrangement when you were 18 years old, that if either of you needed a date to an event and you were both single you would be each others date, you try your best to be at every celebration and ceremony for your education and respective careers. you managed to keep this up for a while, but the life of a doctor and the life of a navy aviator never seem to line up and suddenly you find yourself not only cities but countries away from one another and the arrangement falls to the background of your minds that is until you move to San Diego and Rooster finds himself calling on your arrangement one last time.

a/n: this ended up being sooo long and i am (not) sorry about it, i got so carried away with it. also this is the dress i imagined when writing this. also, i don’t consistently refer to Rooster as Bradley or Rooster in this, it switches so often. i also apologise if the smut is bad, i don’t write it often. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT this is an 18+ piece, I will be checking blogs that interact so please have an age indicator somewhere on your blog. this is part of the ‘fly me to the moon universe’

Rooster was sure the world stopped the minute you walked through the doors behind your father, it had been over 10 years since he had last seen you and yet he knew it was you instantly. If anybody asked, he would say it was your eyes that gave you away as being (Y/N) Florence-Mitchell. The same emerald green as your father, full of life and happiness as they crinkled at the sides when you smiled at Penny across the bar, giving your soon to be step mother a wave as your father guided you through the crowd and straight towards the group of aviators that made up the dagger squadron.

Realising your destination, Rooster's heart began to beat erratically as he stood from his bent position where he had been planning on taking his shot at the pool table, causing a confused look and a 'dude' from Hangman. Out of all the ways he had imagined and dreamed about reuniting with you, he never would have imagined it happened in Fightertown, never mind at the Hard Deck.

Yet here you are, getting closer and closer and he swears his heart is gonna beat straight out of his chest. You're beautiful, you always had been but what had once been a soft and innocent beauty when you were younger and never knew a life without Bradley had turned into sharp edges and maturity as you found what it meant to be your own person without him. He was awestruck to put it lightly as his eyes stalked you through the bar until you were standing just at the other end of the pool table, Mavericks arm wrapped tightly around your shoulder as he made introductions.

“Everybody this is my daughter, Dr (Y/N) Florence-Mitchell.” With a smile you rolled your eyes at your father's insistence on using your title, he was very proud of everything you accomplished in your life and career and while he very rarely actually used the words ‘I’m proud of you’ he always made sure to show it when he showed you off to other people. “Please call me (Y/N/N)”

With pleasant smiles and shaking hands everyone introduced themselves, though you had heard about all of them so many times you were sure you could pick out each and everyone member of the dagger squad by name if you tried. Your eyes moved over them all the same as they introduced themselves, taking in their features and finally putting faces to names. Maverick was the absolute worst at having pictures on his phone, preferring to keep a hard copy of photos in his hanger and you were never around the hanger anymore, much to busy with your own life that you could only really talk to your father over the phone, especially considering he was usually on the other side of the country or world. But maybe now that dagger squad had become a permanent fixture at Top Gun for whenever they were needed and you had taken a job in San Diego (that Mav was still completely unaware of) you would see the old man a little more.

Your eyes finally made their way to the other side of the pool table where the WSO Bob sat with a small smile on his face as he introduced himself, finally your eyes met with Roosters and he swears he nearly melted at the sight, at the friendliness and tenderness towards him that remained after all these years, and your smile. God your smile still made him weak at the goddamn knees and he silently curses to himself about how you still have such an effect on him and how he should be over his silly childhood crush. “Bradley”

Walking around the pool table, Rooster gladly opens his arms for you as you unwrap your father from your shoulder and meet him in the middle, wrapping your arms around his torso as he wraps his around your shoulders, placing a kiss to your forehead as he does. It was comforting, to the both of you, it was something he always did before you grew apart, when you were still an everyday presence in each other's lives. You had missed it. It had been far too long since you had even spoken to each other, never mind seeing each other. “Hey angel.”

The familiarity of the nickname warms you from the inside, or maybe that was just the heavy radiating of Bradley as he held you in his arms. Or maybe it was the flush slowly spreading up your body and making its way to your face as you relish in how nice it feels to be held by him once again, or maybe it is because you're thinking about just how handsome Bradley had become since you last saw him.

He had always had a bit of boyish charm about him, that cheeky smile he usually sported that was so similar to that of his fathers always drew the ladies in when he was turned their way pair that with the fact that he was always athletic and fit and you had a deadly combination that turned Rooster into quite the heart throb when he was younger. But now, you swear he's never looked better, even as he sports that ridiculous mustache he started growing when he was in college, all rugged muscles and that same charming smile alongside the new air of confidence and maturity that was unrecognizable to you.

Never one to have a moment taken from him, the voice of Hangman forces the two of you to seperate, though you still stand close to one another. “How long you in town for?” With a gentle chuckle you cross yours arms over your chest and appraise but your father and Bradley before you answered, they both looked expectant. You had told your father you were in Fighter town for around 2 weeks but had yet to drop the bombshell that you were relocating to San Diego permanently.

“Well I’m in Fighter town for the next 2 weeks, staying at an air bnb close to the base.” You eyed your father as he sent you a small glare, he didn’t know you were coming and so he couldn’t insist on you staying with him and Penny and that was deliberate not only did you want to surprise him but you wanted your own space, somewhere you could retreat too if need be and have some time to yourself because you were sure that every moment he could your father would be at your side to make up for not only the time he missed as an adult but the time he missed out on when you were a kid. “But after that…I am permanently relocating to San Diego.”

You had to bite your lip to stop the giggle that tickled your throat as both Bradley and Maverick whipped their heads round to stare at you, mouths and eyes wide with shock. “(Y/N) (M/N) Florence-Mitchell!” You had to giggle at your dad’s tone as you turned to look at him with innocent eyes and a small smirk, “Yes?” Though Mav tried his hardest to look stern and serious, ready to scold you for not telling him, he can’t help but smile at the fact that you weren’t going to be so far away now.

“What?” Now you turned to Bradley, who’s shocked expression had lessened a little but you could tell from the pinch of his brows and the down turn of his lips that he was still confused. “I wanted to surprise my dad, that was the whole purpose of this trip. Safe to say I surprised him. But I uh, I got offered head of the ED and trauma at one of the hospitals in San Diego a few weeks back and I accepted it. Spent the last few weeks sorting out a place to live and getting ready to move, I start there in 3 weeks.”

Strong arms wrap around you as Maverick brings you into a tight hug with a chuckle and a kiss to your forehead. “That's amazing news kid.” As he lets you go, your eyes meet with Bradley’s and you smile at him, which he reciprocates before turning to Phoenix who pulls his attention away from you and back to the pool game they were playing.

Though now he was playing much worse than he was before, he was sloppy as his eyes followed you as you flitted between the crowd of aviators getting to know everyone and he was sure Phoenix would kick his ass in the morning for making them lose against the tag-team of Hangman and Coyote but he couldn’t bring himself to care, though she wasn’t really going to catching onto the love sick look on her friends face the minute he caught sight of you. All he cared about was the fact that you were here and even when you left you would only be 30 minutes away from him and he was determined to not let you slip out of his life once again.

------

The next time Bradley sees you is three days later, not that he’s counting or anything, and the squad are on the beach playing some dog fight football to relax after a grueling training session with Maverick. You had been at the Hard Deck with Penny and Amelia looking at some bridesmaid dresses for the pair of you to wear at the upcoming wedding of Penny and Maverick, your eyes occasionally moving from the laptop in front of you down the beach to where they were playing. You had to admit it was quite the sight and you just couldn’t help yourself from watching, I mean who could blame you.

The sight of the 12 aviators, excluding Hondo and Mav who were now sitting on the sidelines enjoying just watching their squad enjoy themselves, shirtless and sweaty would make even a nun stop and stare. But your eyes were on one particular aviator and his on you, it seemed that every time you looked over his eyes were already on you, a smirk on his face as he sends a wink your way that has you rolling your eyes everytime.

“So… you and Rooster.” Penny’s voice pulls you away from your staring and you turn to her with a questioning look that she rolls her eyes at with a scoff. “Oh come on (Y/N), I’m not blind. I can see the way you two look at each other, you can’t tell me there’s nothing there.”

With a gentle huff, you fold your arms and place them on the table in front of you, pushing your laptop forward slightly as you do, “There is nothing there Penny. He was my best friend for 23 years and then we drifted apart, him busy becoming one of the best naval pilots currently serving and me busy becoming the best doctor I could.” A soft hmm falls from Penny’s lips, one that perfectly conveys a very sarcastic ‘I believe you’, “Are you sure about that? You didn’t see the way his entire face lit up when he saw you in the Hard Deck the other day, I swear that boy looked like he was on cloud 9 the minute he held you in his arms,”

Rolling your eyes, you shake your head at your step mother and tell her once again that there is nothing romantic about your relationship with Bradley. At least now anyway, but you would never tell her about the fact you’re pretty sure you were in love with him in college. “Bullshit.” Eyes widening in shock, you turn to Amelia with your mouth open and she at least looks a little bashful about her outburst obviously not meaning to say it out loud as her cheeks flush a little and her mouth gapes a little.

“Sorry,” her eyes flit to her mother, expecting to be scolded but Penny is simply watching her with amusement in her eyes, “but it’s true.” Leaning forward in her chair, Amelia places her head in her palm as her eyes flit between you and the aviators on the beach. “Look, I know I’m only a teenger and I know nothing about relationship and being in love and all that adult stuff” at the words ‘adult stuff’ she uses air quotes that makes you let out a small chuckle, “but Rooster looks at you the same way Mav looks at Mom, and from the photos I’ve seen the way Goose looked at your aunt Carole.”

Moving to look down the beach once again, you smile as you see the aviators carrying Bob about on their shoulders with a small chant of his name, Rooster is once again looking at you and this time you give him a small wave and a smile as he offers you a salute in return. Behind your back, Penny and Amelia share a knowing glance and a smile seeing how completely fucking gone you were for Bradley Bradshaw. “Why don’t you go bring them down some bears to cool them off? Maybe you and Rooster can talk a little.”

Though you rolled your eyes, knowing Penny was simply scheming, you did as she suggested, pilling some beer into a cooler she had on hand and carrying it down the beach to where your dad and the rest of the squad sat as they took a breather. Placing a kiss to your dad’s cheek as he turned his head towards you and greeted you with a gentle ‘hey honey’ you smile at the aviators as you set the cooler on the sand as you announce your presence to the rest of the group. “I bring gifts”

You’re meet with a chorus of thanks and greetings, and of course a flirty remark from Hangman who got hit up the side of the head thanks to Phoenix who had planted herself next to the Texan which caused you to let out a laugh as you bent down to open up the cooler and begin handing out the cold beers, and soda for Bob. As you go to hand Rooster one he smiles at you and instead of taking the beer from you, offers his hand out, palm facing up as if asking to take your hand, “Walk with me angel?”

You nod your head gently and place the bear back in the cooler, placing your freehand in his to allow him to guide you through the lounging aviators that were lying haphazardly across the sand. Though Rooster’s hand was sweaty, you had to admit to yourself that you enjoyed the few seconds in which your hand was clasped in his. It reminded you of simpler times, walking to school hand-in-hand as your mothers walked behind the two of you, playing with his fingers as you lay on his bed as he lamented about the most recent girl whose heart he broke by telling them he wasn’t interested, and even of less simple times where you would hold onto his hand in the hospital waiting rooms as his mom's health began to decline, and him holding yours the day you got the call that your mom had been in a major accident involving a drunk driver and he drove you all the way from Virginia to your home town, holding onto one another at the funerals of both Carole and your mother as if you were the last people you both had in the world, and in a way you were. While Maverick was very much present in your life now as an adult, growing up he was never really around throwing himself into missions and detachments to distract from the pain of losing Goose, you saw him at holidays and birthdays and got a few letters through the year if you were lucky, but you really only had your mom, your aunt Carole, and Bradley until you were an adult.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” Rooster’s voice cut through your thoughts and you let out a soft little ‘hmm’ as you came back to reality and looked over to him, ignoring the fact that his hand was still in yours despite it no longer needing to be, “I lost you there for a second angel, where’d you drift of to?”

You gave him a sad smile and looked out to the ocean as you walked, “Just thinking about how the last time I held your hand was my mom’s funeral.” He let out a soft ‘oh’ and gave your hand a soft squeeze as you turned round to face him once again. “And about how much I’ve missed you B.”

You always knew you missed Bradley, he had been such a constant in your life with your mom and aunt Carole being best friends that bought houses right next to each other and were basically co-parents for the pair of you growing up and by the point you were in high school the two of you were attached at the hip, only really seen without the other when in classes you didn’t share together, hell, you even ended up at the same college as one another when the time came.

So when you slowly faded out of each other's lives it was like you slowly lost a part of yourself, you always found yourself wanting to turn to Rooster whenever anything important happened. Like when you did your first solo surgery during your internship in Seattle, or when you meet the guy you thought you were gonna marry only for him to turn round and break your heart, though if you were being honest you weren’t as upset about that as you should have been, or even to tell him about the little things in life like the day you went to the pound with a friend and ended up coming home with a little scruff ball of a dog who turned out to be part german shepherd and grew up with the size to prove it.

Even after 10 years, you still found yourself thinking ‘I should tell Bradley about this’ and then getting disheartened when you realise, you can’t. You had no real way of contacting him, you knew you could reach out to Maverick but that felt like crossing a line, a complete invasion of privacy, and even if you did reach out to Maverick he would only really know roughly where he was but not how to contact him, and it broke you over and over again. But seeing him, it hit you like a ton of bricks just how much you missed him and with the way your heart twisted with the realisation you made sure to take a mental note to not let Penny know or find out because she would have the smuggest grin and ‘I told you so’ mentality about it, seeing him again truly felt like a piece of your soul had been returned to its rightful place.

“I’ve missed you too angel.” If you thought you missed Bradley, he missed you just as much if not more and had spent so many sleepless nights searching you up on social media and google to keep up with your life and see how you were doing. When he was at basic, he tried to write letters, something that he could send you to let you know he was still thinking about you but he couldn’t get the words out. Couldn’t articulate just how much he missed you without it sounding far too much like ‘I love you’ and that was not something he wanted to tell you in a letter, that was something he needed to say in person, so he sent nothing instead.

He had saw you at your med-school graduation, smiled you and told you how proud he was of you but he never told you, he apologised for the lack of communication blaming being busy and not having a chance and you did the same, med-school had kicked your ass and meant you just did not have the time to sit down and put thought to paper, or email, to send to him. And then he got deployed and the cycle started again, he would start writing you a letter and then he would trash it because it didn’t like the way it sounded and even the ones he liked never got sent as he lost the nerve and instead stashed them in a box that now lived under his bed, and you started your internship to and communication was run into the ground.

He was just glad you were a social media person, while he wasn’t and rarely posted on any accounts he had, he got to watch your life unfold through the screen. He watched you enter relationships which made his heart twist in pain as he thought about you being with someone that wasn’t him and then he watched those relationships end which hurt even more because he couldn’t be there to comfort like he had been when you were younger. He watched as you moved from Seattle after your internship being offered a position in one of the best trauma centres in the country where you adopted your scruff ball that had been adequately named ‘shaggy’. He watched as you posted photos of you and your dad, though his own relationship with Maverick was in the gutter, he was happy to see yours healing. Happy that you had someone when he wasn’t there.

Now that you were back in his life, he felt like that one piece of the puzzle that had been missing since he enlisted had finally been put back into place, though he would never admit it anyone, especially Phoenix after she interrogated him about your relationship after you had left the Hard Deck that first night, he didn’t want her to have the satisfaction of known that he was in fact, in far too deep with you even after 10 years after he spent so long denying that there was anything romantic between the two of you.

Though your admissions hung heavy around you, as if waiting for one of you to reach out and grab it in an admission of blame of whose fault it was you drifted apart, conversation flowed naturally between the two of you as you caught each other up on the details and events in your lives for the past 10 years, neither one of you wanting to play the blame game though it was heavy on your heads because you both knew you were equally to blame.

As you talked and caught up, you were none the wiser to the lingering gazes of the squad of aviators who sat with either a questioning look or a smug smirk on their faces (Phoenix and Hangman specifically) as one of them voiced the question to Maverick, “What’s going on with those two?”

With a shake of his head, Maverick let out a small sigh and moved his eyes away from the form of his daughter and surrogate nephew as they walked hand in hand along the shore line and to the aviators who had now downed their beers and were getting ready for another round of dogfight football without Rooster. Pushing his aviators back up his nose, Maverick laid back in his lounge chair and shrugged his shoulders, “They were attached at the hip once upon a time, they’re just catching up.”

Though his tone was playful, there was a warning edge to it that warned the others to drop the subject because truthfully even Maverick didn’t know what was going on between the two of you. He knew you were close growing up and you grew apart as adults, something you lamented to him about as you healed your relationship with him after graduating college, but watching you two he could finally see what your mother saw every time you two were together. The undying, unbridled love in each other's eyes that you were too blinded to see, the same kind of love he saw in Carole and Gooses eyes every day. Yeah, Maverick found himself thinking, maybe your mom was right and you were gonna be Mrs.Bradshaw one day.

---

Its 2 weeks later and you’re finally moved into your new place in San Diego, only 30 minutes away from Fightertown on a good day and 60 on a bad day, a 3 bedroom, 2 bathroom (1 ensuite, 1 main), bungalow with an open plan living room and kitchen. It was a nice bungalow, sitting right beside the beach and a small garden out your front, the amount of bed rooms meant one could be converted into an office or home gym while the other can be a storage room, maybe changing into a baby room a few years down the line. And it was all yours, after years of renting, you owned your own home and you couldn't be happier.

You had been moved in within 5 days with the help of your father and dagger squad who spent most of their evenings helping you move furniture and unpack everything after it had arrived. Though you were pretty sure they were doing it under the orders of your father, it was nice to have them around. The squad were your dad’s family, which meant by extension they were yours now and it was nice to get to know them. You grew especially close with Siren, Phoenix and Halo, the three happy to have another woman around to break up the testosterone, especially one who could handle Hangman’s ego and kept him and Rooster in line when things started to get heated between them.

Your relationship with Rooster also got better, since that day on the beach where you seemed to walk the entire length of the beach and back as you talked, though you weren’t as close as you were when you were younger, which was physically impossible as he had training and drills every day and you were helping Penny with both wedding planning and in the Hard Deck on busy nights, you were still close.

You were happy to find all the quirks and mannerisms you had memorised still existed, like the way his lip upturned when he was scheming or the how he fiddled with his dog tags when he was nervous or thinking (when you were young he would always fiddle with his dads), turning the metal over his fingers again and again, or how when he was lying he would scratch behind his right ear and his eyebrow would twitch slightly (honestly, it was such a small reaction that most people didn't notice it) everything about him so familiar and it was welcome because it meant he was still your Bradley even after all this time.

Which is why when Rooster walked into your bungalow that night, pizza and beer in his hand with a certain look in his eye, you knew immediately that he wanted something. You watched him carefully with your arms crossed over your chest as you leaned against your kitchen sink and he placed the pizza down on your island. He was avoiding your gaze, another nervous habit when he was scared to ask something, instead looking over your kitchen as if he hadn’t been there every night for the past week. With a gentle sigh you moved forward, uncrossing your arms and putting your hands on the island so you were now leaning on it instead.

“Spit it out Bradshaw. What do you want?”

Rubbing at the back of his neck, Rooster almost looks sheepish as he also leans on the island with his forearm against the cold granite and this only makes you raise an eyebrow at him in a questioning manner.

“You see…” You very rarely saw Bradley struggle to ask for something, especially not from you as there was very little you would say no to him about, now he seemed nervous as if what he was asking would cause you to reach over and slap him across the face. “I, uh, I wanted to call upon our arrangement one last time.”

Now, whatever you were expecting him to say it was certainly not that and the shock was clear on your face as you quite literally stood up straight with wide eyes and your mouth opening and closing. It had been a while since you thought about your arrangement with Bradley, years even as the last time it came into play was your med-school graduation 10 years ago, before everything fell apart. While the arrangement was something the two of you agreed upon almost 20 years earlier as freshly graduated high schoolers, you still remembered it like it was yesterday.

----

It was just after your high school graduation, your mother had organised a small party with a few of your relatives that lived nearby and a few friends from outside of school but you and Bradley snuck away in his old Bronco he had gotten as soon as he got his licence (it was almost the exact same one as Gooses) and you ended up in what you had dubbed ‘your secret spot’. It was a silly name, but it was where the two of you would always go to escape when the world got a little bit too much, either together or alone. After Bradley parked near the large oak tree that took up most of the clearing, you clambered out of the car and laid down the blanket you had brought with you, popping open the champagne you had snuck off one of the tables at the party.

Letting out a content sigh, you plopped yourself down on the blanket, your legs spreading out in front of you as you leaned back on your arms with your head thrown back to look at the stars that decorated the night sky. Your eyes traced over the shapes of the constellations, following them until an image formed in your mind of what they were meant to be. You knew them all, and their stories, that was something your mom had taught you. Bradley settled next to you, one leg propped up so he could lean his arm on it, the other pressing against yours alongside his shoulder as he leaned back on his hand, following you in looking up at the stars.

Bradley never understood your fascination with the stars, you had explained it to him once telling him a story your mom constantly repeated to you about how you would never settle at night unless she took you out to the stars and told you their stories, it seems that even as a baby you found them calming. You told him that even if the world was in chaos and falling apart around you, the stars were always there, they were the one constant in a world where nothing else was and looking at them brought you comfort. But no matter how much you explained it, and how much he said he got it, there was always a part of him that never quite knew what you meant but that never stopped him from listening as you explained the different constellations to him, no matter how many times he had already heard the story.

The two of you sat in silence for a while, passing the bottle of champagne between you quietly, simply revelling in each other's company because you knew things were gonna be different come September time. Sure, you were going to the same college things were going to be different, you were hoping to join a sorority and Bradley was going to try out for the baseball team, you didn’t imagine you would have the same time for each other that you have now given you were never apart for more than an hour or two when you weren’t asleep. Eventually you moved from your sitting positions, instead opting to lie on the blanket, you with your arms on your stomach and Bradley with his arms under his head causing the muscles in his arms to flex and you cursed him for it, finding it hard not to look at him as he did.

“I have a proposition.” Turning your head to look at Bradley with an amused smirk, you see he’s already looking at you with soft eyes and an even softer smile and you raise your eyebrow at him. Bradley turns on his side, using his arm to prop up his head, and you do the same giving him your full attention.

“Go on, you’ve piqued my interest.”

He rolls his eyes at the teasing tone in your voice and lightly shoves your shoulder, just enough that you wobble but not enough that you fall over which causes you to giggle. “Come on, I’m being serious.”

Wiping the smile from your mouth, you put on a fake serious face, “Okay, okay, I’m serious.” Bradley only rolls his eyes again but he doesn’t shove you, instead his free hand starts to play with a loose strand of fabric on the blanket, his eyes casting down to avoid meeting yours as he spoke.

“We make a promise, an agreement, that when we get to college and even after we won’t forget about one another. Like, if one of us has an event or a party, and we’re both single, we go together, if one of us has a ceremony or an award or any sort of celebration we go and support the other.”

His eyes moved up to meet yours, having been scared you were going to tell him no. Tell him that now you were grown you wanted some independence from him, a chance to see who you were without Bradley Bradshaw attached at your hip. But you don’t, instead you reach out your hand, fingers clenched closed with your pinky extended and a small smile on your face.

“I promise B” Bradley reaches out and intertwines your pinky fingers together.

---

And that was the start of your agreement with Bradley Bradshaw that saw him as your date to your first sorority event and you as his to the college baseball formal, it’s what saw you at multiple events together throughout college and saw peoples always asking about if you were dating or not, with some of your sorority sisters commenting on the fact that you were lucky to have him. It was what saw him supporting you when you were given an award by the school for academics and you supporting him when he got MVP three years in a row with the baseball team, it was what had you in the crowd of his graduation from the naval academy and him in the crowd of your med-school graduation. But after you started to drift apart, the agreement fell apart with it and it hadn’t been brought up since. Until now that is

“The arrangement?” Bradley let out a small chuckle and stopped rubbing at his neck, instead now leaning on the island with both arms as his eyes swept across the room, determined not to meet your stare he tried to find something, anything he could focus on instead of you because he was sure he would see rejection in your eyes. Finally, his eyes settled on the photos on your fridge, one of you and your friends on your graduation day, one of you and your dad working on the F-14 he had in his bunker, one of you and Shaggy from shortly after you got him, and one of you and him at your senior year prom.

A small huff passes your lips as you look him up and down, once again crossing your arms over your chest your, “Okay, but I need details first.” Bradley’s eyes snapped from the photos on your fridge to your face as his mouth opened in shock, he was truly expecting you to say no. To tell him to fuck off, that it was a stupid promise made when you were teenagers but here you were agreeing.

“You’re serious?” Rolling your eyes, you leaned forward onto the island once again, this time folding your arms over one another, matching the way Rooster was standing, and you slid forward slightly so your face was just millimetres away from Rooster and you had to stop your eyes from flickering down to his lips and imagining the way they would feel on yours. Rooster was having a similar issue, finding himself forcing his eyes to look into your eyes because he knew if he looked anywhere else he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from reaching out and pulling you into a bruising kiss.

“Of course I’m serious, I did pinky promise after all and we both know those are sacred.” With a small smile you suddenly pull back, all too aware of how the heat of his breath against your skin was starting to cause a blush to spread over your cheeks. Quickly you clear your throat and reach for the pizza on the counter, lifting it as you round the island and head towards your living room. Throwing yourself onto the sofa you place the pizza box on the coffee table and reach down to pet Shaggy who is asleep in his bed at the end of the sofa, motioning to the other side of the sofa with your hand, “Now, details.”

Lifting the beer, and a bottle opened, Bradley joins you on the sofa and hands you an open beer, while you’re sat with your back against the arm of the sofa and your legs pulled up to your chest, Bradley leans back, stretches one arm around the back cushions of the sofa and spreads his legs in front of him. Taking a deep swig of beer, he lets out a sigh and runs his hand over his face before he starts to explain.

“An old navy buddy is getting married on Saturday and I was invited to the wedding a while back,” Okay, so far so good, you think to yourself and you let a gentle ‘hmmm’ to let Rooster know you were listening as you took a swig of your own beer, “At the time I was just a guest, but one of his groomsmen has dropped out, well he’s been kicked out but that's another story for another time, so now there’s an uneven number of bridesmaids and groomsmen and the bridesmaids already have their dresses so it would be a complete waste of money to ask one of the bridesmaid to drop out and he doesn’t have any other close friends or family, his brother’s are already part of the grooms party”

“B you’re rambling.” You very rarely saw Bradley rambling, only when he was really really nervous like that time he asked Ashley Stone to be his prom date in junior year or when he confessed to his first college girlfriend.

“Right, sorry. Anyway, he reached out to me and asked if I would be his groomsman, all the other guys are navy men, and I said yes, no problem. The thing is this all went down when I was still seeing that girl, Molly, I was telling you about and I had put down a plus one.”

Realisation hits you and you nod your head along with what he’s saying, “So you want me to be your plus one.” His eyes, which had been staring up at your ceiling, move to your face and he nods slowly, but there’s something in his eyes that tells you that’s not all it is and you let out a small sigh and narrow your eyes at him.

“There’s something else, isn’t there?” He nods solemnly and takes another swig of his beer before he leans forward and places his elbows on his knees, head turned towards you with an apologetic look on his face.

“I heard Molly was going to be there with her new man, apparently he’s a friend of the brides, and I may have said I was bringing my new girl.” You close your eyes and curse at his stupidity, taking swig of your beer as you rubbed at your temples.

“So you want me to be your date and play pretend as your girlfriend?” It wouldn’t be the first time you had pretended to be his girlfriend, you had done it once or twice in college when he was clearly uncomfortable when someone was flirting with him to chase him off, and he had pretended to be your boyfriend numerous times when some creeps wouldn’t take the hint that you wasn’t interested in them, but that was short bursts. This was going to be an all day thing, and you didn’t know if your heart could take that.

“Pretty much.” Bradley knew it was a lot to ask, it even feel outside the parameters of your agreement and he was sure you were going to turn around any second now and tell him to get lost, that you wouldn’t do it. But as you opened your eyes with a resigned sigh and looked at him, he knew you weren’t going to do that.

“Okay Bradshaw, you got a deal. But…” You were caught off guard by Bradley reaching over and pulling you into a tight embrace, practically putting you onto his lap as he did so as he muttered thank you over and over again into your ear. You hugged him back and let out a gentle chuckle before pulling back, your hands on Bradley’s shoulders as his remained your waist where he had pulled you in.

Your heart picked up in your chest from the contact and you felt heat rush through your body as a blush spread across your cheeks, you didn’t want to pull away any further than you already were, you actually wanted to pull him closer to you and press your lips against his. In fact every muscle in your body was screaming at you to do just that but you didn’t listen, instead letting go of his shoulder and shuffling back to your position on the sofa.

“As I was saying, I need to know details of the wedding. Time, theme, colours, bridesmaid colours, dress code, what you’re wearing.” You ran your hand through your hair, starting to panic a little the more you thought about it, which Bradley saw. He reached a hand out and took the one carding through your hair in his, pulling it to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss to it and something about the gentle intimacy of it almost stopped your breathing.

“Stop panicking. I will text Mercury, uh, Gerard and ask him anything I don’t know and then I’ll text you. He’s asked all the groomsmen to wear their dress whites so it won’t be hard to match me. I don’t know the theme, the dress code for the reception for the women is princess? I don't actually know, and I don’t know about the colour scheme. But I will find out, I promise.” At Rooster’s words you calm a little, taking a few deep breaths to settle your racing heart before you nod.

“Okay, okay.” He gives you a smile before dropping your hand and reaching over to the coffee table, flipping open the pizza lid and pulling out a slice, handing it to you with a smile, “Now let’s eat before it turns to ice.”

---

Saturday rolls around quicker than you would have liked, you thought you would be over the nerves by now but as the day approached the only seemed to get worse and worse until you felt your chest constricting and your lungs felt like they were collapsing in on themselves as you struggled to breath. Eyes squeezed tight, your hands gripped onto your island lip with such force that you knew your knuckles were turning white even without looking at them. Your thoughts were spiralling a little, little what ifs that were nothing if not intrusive thoughts like what if Bradley’s doing this to embarrass you? What if he’s doing just to make his ex jealous? What if? What if? What if? They swarmed your mind and you felt like you were beginning to drown.

Suddenly a hand is placed on your arm, slowly rubbing up and down the skin to soothe you and another is placed on your head slowly moving through your hair and you hear voices but they feel a million miles away, distorted by your heartbeat that was thundering in your ears. Slowly you opened your eyes, to see Natasha and Callie looking at you from either side with concern and you could see their mouths move but still couldn't quite make out the sound coming out. Callie removed her hand from your hair and instead used it to guide one of your own to her chest, where you could feel her taking deep long breaths and you tried your best to match the pattern. In for eight seconds, hold for six, out for eight and repeat. Your heart beat started to calm and you could start to make out what the girls at your side were saying.

“That’s it (Y/N)....”

“Nice and easy…”

“You’re okay…”

The tightness in your chest slowly fades, it still lingers but it doesn’t inhibit your breathing anymore, and the rapid beating of your heart slows to a relatively normal rate. Finally, your hands release their grip on the island and you stretch your fingers open and closed to ease the ache that had settled in them. Your eyes move to Natasha, whose hand is still running up and down your arm and then to Callie who stills holds one of your hands against her chest with a small smile and look of appreciation.

“Thank you guys.”

They give you small nods in return, Callie lets go of your hand and instead wraps an arm around your shoulder and brings you into a hug while Natasha threads her fingers through your hand, “No need to thank us,” it was Natasha who spoke, “I’m just glad we arrived when we did.”

Callie let out a soft ‘yeah’ agreeing with her girlfriend, “That looked pretty bad, you okay?” You had told the girls before about having panic attacks, you were at the Hard Deck one night, just the three of you, and some creep was not leaving you alone and you had a little freak out in the bathroom that they witnessed, but it had been a while since you had a full blown attack like the one you just experienced. You were glad the girls arrived then they did as well, you didn’t know how you were going to calm down from that one on your own and it was a gift to have them there grounding you.

With a small nod you pull back from Callie, “Yeah, I’m good now. It’s just one bad thought spiralled into another and another and another and I didn’t know how to pull myself out.” Natasha’s hand moved from your arm to rub at your back softly, knowing your body is probably still pumping with adrenaline, to sooth you further, the looks of concern remained but their lips turned up into soft smiles. They knew you were nervous about the whole thing, having lamented to them your nerves and fears when you went out dress shopping only yesterday because Rooster didn’t give you the details you needed to find a dress sooner.

The theme of the event was fairy tales and what can only be described as royaltycore, with the bride wearing a replica of the live action Cinderella dress and her bridesmaids baby blue and baby pink dresses obviously inspired by the dress worn by princess Aurora in sleeping beauty going by their shape (matching the wedding dress in the live action movie) and colour (an obvious nod to the changing blue and pink in the original animated feature), with a pastel colour scheme, Bradley had told you that guests would have to wear pastels that matched the table you were assigned and those wearing dresses were under orders (straight from the bride herself) to dress like the princess of their childhood dreams (and surprisingly she didn't care if you ended up looking better than her, it seems she just wanted to live out her childhood dream of living a fairy tale for just a few hours) , and the table you and Bradley would be placed at was designated the lavender table so you had to hunt for a lavender dress.

Having found nothing in San Diego you, Natasha, and Callie all ended up driving over 2 hours to LA in the traffic and heat to try and find something you could wear. You had formal dresses, having attended many a charity gala and medical events but they were all dark navys and emerald greens, you weren’t really one for pastels and you certainly didn't have anything that made you feel like a princess, in fact most of your dresses made you feel like a display, a prize to be given to the highest bidder as you were paraded around to convince donors to up their donations with a flutter of your eyelashes and your tits pressed against their arms as you walked, so you had to go out and shop for something.

While some of the dresses you found when in San Diego had potential, they were either the wrong shape or the wrong size (and you most definitely did not have time to have anything tailored) so you made the journey to L.A and finally found something in a small shop owned by an independent designer that had been recommended by Siren (who couldn’t join you as she was dragging a very nervous Bob to meet her family in Miami that weekend). You were lucky, it was the last of the dress in stock and it was just your size and, in Callies words, you looked like a knock-out in it. With dress in hand, the three of you made your way back to San Diego and settled in your respective homes just before midnight.

Natasha removed her hand from your back as she felt your breathing even out completely, the tightness in your chest was now completely gone and your panic had settled though nervousness still brewed in the pit of your stomach, and she turned to Callie with a smile, “Now let’s get you all dolled up.”

That’s right, you forgot you asked them to help you get ready, well you told them you didn’t know what to do with your hair and makeup and didn’t have time to book in with anyone to get it professionally done, to which Natasha let you know that Callie is phenomenal at doing makeup making a joke that if she wasn’t a pilot she would be on a movie set somewhere doing makeup for the stars. Callie blushed at the compliment and let you know she could do yours for you, while also volunteering Natasha to do your hair because she was surprisingly good at it. And that’s why they were at your place at 8am in the morning after getting home so late at night. You were gonna have to buy them a bottle of wine or two to thank them later.

Natasha guided you into your room, her hand in yours and placed you down in front of your vanity. It was an old thing, the one your mom used to keep in her room though she very rarely used it, but it was nice to have a piece of her. She turned you to the side, so you were facing the door into your ensuite while she positioned herself behind you and Callie positioned herself in front of you, placing her makeup bag on the vanity. You were thankful she brought it, the only makeup you had were the basics to make you look less like a zombie when out in the ED, some foundation, concealer, blush, eyeliner, and maybe three eyeshadow palettes none of which contained pastel colours. Under their instructions, you closed your eyes and let the girls get to work.

The ceremony was starting at 10, would be finished in 30 minutes and Rooster was coming to pick you up on his way to the reception venue, with the reception not due to start until 12, Rooster would pick up at 10.45, giving him time to get to the venue with the midday San Diego traffic.

Which was great, considering the fact that both Natasha and Callie restarted their entire process at least 3 times each drawing out the time it took for them to actually finish doing your hair and makeup, well that and the breaks you took to eat something and to sneak a drink of champagne that Callie had brought with her deciding you would need a little bit of an edge to calm your nerves before Rooster arrives. Between the stopping and restarting, your hair and makeup was finished by 10:40.

Though you couldn’t see yourself yet, Callie had covered up the mirror halfway through because you kept trying to peek, the looks on Callie and Natasha’s face were enough to let you know you looked good. “Beautiful. Now get your ass into your dress, I can hear Rooster pulling up.”

Callie left the room, leaving Natasha to help you get into your dress. As yout stripped out of your pyjamas, folding them neatly and placing them on the edge of your bed, Natasha turned away towards your bedroom door and started to remove your dress from the protective covering given to you at the boutique yesterday, while you made your way to your underwear drawer and pulled out a lacy thong and a strapless bra in a matching colour out and put them on. You then turned to Natasha who had removed the dress from the hanger and was holding it folded over her arm, you let out a gentle ‘okay’ to let her know it was okay for her to turn around.

While Natasha helped you into your dress, Callie let Rooster into your home with a smile and a bit of a questioning look as she noticed he was driving a black Bentley and not his usual bronco, “You give up the bronco?” Rooster rolled his eyes as he stepped over the threshold of your home with a small smile on his face.

“Gerard insisted all the groomsmen arrive in Bentley’s, he did wanna give me a driver but I insisted on driving to get (Y/N) myself.” Callie nodded her head as they walked into the open plan living room and kitchen, leaning against the island as she eyed up Rooster. Even she had to admit that he looked good in his dress whites.

“You clean up well Bradshaw.”

Roosters rolled his eyes at Callie, but his lips upturned slightly at the compliment, it fed his ego a little bit, though he only really cared about what you thought he looked like. Rooster’s eyes once again found the photo of the two of you at prom and a small smile spread across his face as he remembered just how beautiful you looked that night and how that was the first time he realised that he may have had not so friendly feelings towards you. He remembered his heart beating rapidly in his chest as he waited for your mom to go and get you from your room, how his hands felt clammy and his head began to spin as he saw you in your dress for the first time. This was no different, his heart was hammering in his chest as if it was trying to break through his ribs and throw itself directly into your hands, and his hands felt damp to his touch as he clasped them together in front of him to stop him fidgeting.

Callies eyes softened as she watched one of her best friends and she smiled, it was obvious from the very first day that you were Roosters girl to the point that even Hangman was leaving you alone not wanting to incur the wrath of a love sick Rooster, but now watching him Callie could see it was so much more than just an infatuation but was pure, deep love, one not everybody got to experience and those who did were lucky too. “She’s beautiful Bradley.”

Rooster’s eyes snapped to Callies and he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, he knew you were beautiful. You were always beautiful, even when you thought you looked your worst Bradley always thought you were the most ethereal being on the planet. The sound of a door opening and closing caused Bradley to look down the corridor he knew lead to your bedroom, but instead of you walking down there was Natasha with a smile on her face.

“She’s just getting her shoes on.” Bradley nodded his head as Natasha joined Callie leaning on the island, leaning over and giving her a kiss on the cheek before she turned her eyes back to Bradley. She narrowed them slightly and crossed her arms over her chest as she looked him up and down.

“This is your one shot Bradshaw, fuck this up and I will run you over with my car.” Bradley wanted to ask what she was talking about, argue that there was nothing to fuck up, you were just friends, and you were only doing this as a favour to him, but the sound of your heels coming down the hall stopped him and he turned to look at you.

Callie wasn’t wrong, you were beautiful but you were so much more than that. You looked like an absolute goddess, your makeup made all your features pop, especially your eyes and

your hair was styled to perfection with little decorative butterflies poking out here and there to match your dress. Your dress. God, you truly looked like a fairy princess. A gorgeous lilac, floor-length gown, with butterflies decorating the skirt and collar line with pink highlights, including a pink belt around your waist.

The world around Rooster faded away as he looked at you, it was like he had tunnel vision and everything else faded to darkness, and his heart beat so rapidly and loudly in his chest he could hear it and felt like he was underwater. Eyes moving over your form, not every discreetly, a flush rose on his cheeks and he felt his throat dry up and constrict as he tried to vocalise anything to let you know what he was thinking.

The intensity of his stare at you blushing profusely, eyes moving away from him as you ran your hand over the skirt of your dress to distract yourself from his gaze, which you could physically feel on you as if it was peeling back the layers of your skin and muscle and staring directly at your heart, which was beating so rapidly against your ribcage. You were so distracted by not looking at Bradley, you can’t see the sly smiles shared by Natasha and Callie, or the way they were eyeing the two of you just waiting for one of you to make a move.

Taking a gulp, making his adams apple bob in his throat, Rooster clears his throat finally moving his eyes away from your form, though the blush he sports is still rapidly spreading across his face, “You look good angel.”

Mentally Rooster curses himself, was that seriously the best he could come up with? That you looked good? Did you really short-circuit his brain that badly that he couldn’t even compliment you properly? Natasha groans internally, throwing her head back in exasperation as she lets out a sigh and rolls her eyes. She knew Rooster was an idiot but this was beyond idiocy. You didn’t mind though, you gave Rooster a smile as you finally looked at him again.

“You look good too B.”

A smile spread across Rooster’s face as he reached out a hand for you to take, which you do with a small smile, “Your carriage awaits princess.” You roll your eyes at his extravagance, taking your clutch from Callie as Rooster escorts you to the car, which you give him a questioning look about and you laugh as he explains that he was forced too, but if he had a choice he would be driving you to the ball in his bronco.

Natasha and Callie watch with smiles as you laugh with one another before driving off and as you do the couple turn to one another and sigh, “They are absolutely hopeless.” Callie nods along to her girlfriend's words and clicks her tongue, “Completely hopeless.”

---

The drive to the venue doesn’t take as long as you thought it would, the traffic isn’t as bad as anticipated with most people taking advantage of the beautiful morning and heading to the beach before temperatures reach their peak between mid-day and three pm. It’s a peaceful drive, mostly.

You of course tease Bradley about his moustache and how you’re surprised Gerard didn’t make him shave the ridiculous thing off to be in the wedding party and he rolled his eyes and chuckled, letting a little “you know you love my moustache” slip past his lips. And, surprisingly, you do love his moustache, though you would never let him know that it would simply inflate his ego to the point it would match Hangmans, and you did not need a cocky Bradley in your life.

But after you actually set off, conversation dies off with the only sound being the music playing gently from the speakers. You realise, half-way through the drive, that it’s a playlist of all your favourite songs from childhood and you smile at the thought that Bradley remembered and made a playlist specifically for you, you supposed it was to try and calm the nerve raging inside of you the closer you got to the venue.

For most of the ride, you’re sitting staring out the window with your elbow propped on the window and your head propped on a fist, just watching the world whizz by, occasionally moving your eyes to take in Bradley in his dress whites. Bradley is a handsome man, he knows he’s a handsome man and often uses that to his advantage, but in his dress whites? His dress whites take it to a whole other level and you swear he looks like Prince Charming coming to sweep Cinderella off her feet.

You take your time to admire him, from his nearly combed and styled hair that doesn’t have a hair out of place and it certainly being held in place by a mountain of products curving down along his chiselled jawline to his plump lips that had a light sheen to him, probably just a lip balm, but they looked so kissable as you stared at them for a little bit longer than you should have, being so lost in thought that you bite down on your own lips that were painted a light pink.

You finally move on from staring at Bradleys lips back across his jawline and down his neck, moving across his arms that looked absolutely amazing in the white overcoat until you reached his hands, which were gripping onto the steering wheel with such an intensity that his knuckles were starting to change colour and the veins in his hands bulged, causing heat to spread through your body as you thought about his hands on your body, wrapped around your throat, holding your waist, dipping lower and lower to where you wanted him the most. But before your mind wanders too far, you strip your gaze away from him and look back out the window to try and calm your now rapidly beating heart and quell the embers of burning desire.

Your gaze isn’t unnoticed by Rooster, oh no, he doesn’t even have to look over to know your staring at him, he can feel your emerald eyes burning into his skin as it moved over his form and as he looks over and sees you biting down on your lip, he has to suppress a groan because you looked so damn good and he didn’t know how long he could control himself if you kept looking at him like that, which is why he was gripping onto the steering wheel with such force to try and ground himself and focus on anything other than your pretty pink lips and how they would feel on his own, how they would feel pressed against the skin of his neck, his chest, his abdomen, his.

Suddenly, Rooster is shaken out of his thoughts as the venue comes into sight and he is directed by a concierge to park alongside the other groomsmens bentley’s and he quickly clears his throat before following the directions and pulling in. As he pulls the keys of the car out of the ignition, he turns to you with a smile tugging at his lips, eyes roaming over your body once again, “You ready?”

You take a few deep breaths, in for eight, hold for six, out for eight and repeat, close your eyes and steady your heart before turning to Bradley with a tight lipped smile and a gentle nod of your head, “Yeah, let’s do this.”

You go to open your door, but Bradley quickly slaps your hand away and you turn to him with a shocked expression. Bradley only gives you a goofy grin before he gets out of his own door, shutting it behind him, before he makes his way over to your door smiling at the other groomsmen who were gathered only a short distance away. Straightening out the collar of his jacket quickly, Bradley open’s your door for you and offers you his hand, which you roll your eyes at but gladly take, allowing him to help you out of the car.

You hear a couple of whistles as Bradley’s hands fall to your waist as you allow him to steady you, pulling you close to his chest in the process. You could hear a few voices calling out from behind you, all some variation of ‘go Bradshaw’ or ‘way to go Rooster’, which causes a blush to rise on your cheeks which actually mirrored the one on Bradley’s as he tried to let you go. You stopped him, moving your arms around his neck and pulling him down to put a kiss on his cheek. Afterall, you were supposed to be his girlfriend and with people watching, you were going to put on a show.

The blush you had seen on Bradley’s face was nothing compared to the one heating up his skin now, he looked like a tomato and he had to hide his face in your neck to avoid being seen by the other groomsmen who were whooping and hollering at the display of affection. You rolled your eyes at the antics but welcomed the display of affection from Rooster, especially as he snaked his arms fully around your waist and rubbed up and down your back. It was something you frequently did when you were both younger, a way for the both of you to ground one another when it was needed, and it was very much needed now as anxiety started to take root in your heart.

A strong smack on Rooster’s shoulder prompts him to pull away from you, “Rooster man, you gonna introduce us to your girl here or are you just gonna love up on her all night?”

The small group of groomsmen (a total of 3 excluding the groom) had made their way over to you and were now leaning either against the bentley you arrived in or the one beside it with cocky smiles on their faces and their arms crossed. You had to assume the one who smacked Rooster was the groom, Gerard.

“Uh, yeah. Gerard, this is my girl (Y/N).” Though he had pulled away from you, Bradley manoeuvred so he was now at your side with his hand around your waist. “(Y/N), this is Gerard, and the rest of the groomsmen are Sam, James, and Steve.” He motioned to each one as he introduced them and you met them all with a smile.

James was the first of the group to speak to you directly, his eyes trailed up and down your body appreciatively and even though you know he means no harm by it you can’t help but cringe slightly at the way his eyes rake over you, there was just something wrong with the way he did it, “Damn Bradshaw. When you said your girl was a knockout you really meant it.” Finishing off his sentence with a wink in your direction, he moves back to look at Rooster who holds you just that little bit closer.

“Yeah, I’m damn lucky to have her.”

You look up to Bradley with a smile, only to find him already looking at you with a softness you’re not used to. One that speaks to the way lovers look at one another in the privacy of their own homes, one that you had seen before in how your friend Graham looked at his husband and how Maverick looked at Penny. Not wanting to overthink, truly not wanting to think about it all, you turn back to the group of groomsmen and clear your throat.

“Are you all aviators?”

Steve is next to speak, “Gerard and Sam are, me and James are marines” You give a small hmm in acknowledgement before he continues on, “What about you? You in the navy?”

You shake your head with a small laugh, “No, I think my dad would have actually murdered me if I even considered joining the navy. Um, my dads a pilot, Captain Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell?” All the men exchange wide eyed shocked looks and Sam lets out a whistle.

“Wow, Rooster, the Captains daughter? And not just any Captain at that, Maverick? I’m surprised he hasn’t skinned you alive.”

You roll your eyes a little at that, sure your dad was overprotective and had threatened a few of your ex boyfriends, the one person he would never threaten is Bradley, and you both knew that. “There are two people in the world my father is scared of, one was my mother when she was alive. She was small but she was mighty and quite the temper. The other is me, unfortunately for him I inherited my mothers temper and his attitude.”

The boys around you let out a small chuckle, imagining you going in on Maverick, which you had done multiple times when he took on a dangerous mission and told you nothing about it (not even his flight details or that fact that he was flying, you really ripped into him after the uranium mission). The conversation looked like it was going to continue, until a small frazzled red head with a clipboard approached the group, the wedding planner you guessed.

“Boys!! You are needed for photographs before the reception begins!!” You stifled a giggle as you saw them all roll their eyes at her and cast your eyes to the ground, knowing if you meet any of the groomsmens eyes you would burst out laughing. The wedding planner let out a huff as she looked at her watch and then stormed off in the direction of what you assumed was the entrance.

“That’s our cue then.” James is the first to move off, throwing you a quick wink as he stood up straight and started heading towards the entrance alongside Steve and Sam. Gerard stayed with you and Bradley as you started moving towards the entrance yourselves, Bradley’s hand still wrapped firmly around your waist. As you walk the few metres to the entrance, Bradley and Gerard joke amongst themselves and all you can do is smile. Bradley was well and truly relaxed, you could feel it as he held you. There was no tension in his muscles, they way there usually was even if you were just hanging at the Hard Deck or at your place or at the hanger, even the micro muscles in his face seemed relaxed.

Stopping at the entrance, Gerard motions into a girl in a beautiful light purple dress with constellations stitched into the skirt and a small silver tiara in her hair, who was standing by a table of champagne, talking to an older woman in a beautiful regency style dress that looked like it had been picked out of Bridgerton , “That’s Sarah, she’s my cousin and Sam’s girl. Let her know your Rooster’s girl and she’ll show you to your table, she’s sitting with you. That’s her mother with her, my aunt Millie, be careful she’ll talk your ear off if you let her,” the last bit is spoken in a whisper as Gerard bends down to your ear, causing you to smile.

You nod your head and go to move in her direction, but Bradley grabs your hand and pulls you back into him, lifting your hand up and pressing a soft kiss to the back of it. It was something he had done before, the night you had agreed to this whole charade, and again it took your breath away as the simple intimacy of it made your head feel light.

“I’ll be in soon, okay?” You give him a gentle nod and a soft ‘yeah’ falls past your lips, which is enough for him to let you go. You give him a smile as you turn towards the entrance, eyes following him from your peripheral as he moves towards where the photos are being taken until he is out of your view and you look at Sarah, who has turned to look at you having heard you coming.

“Hi, I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Sarah.” She offers a hand out to you, which you take, and you instantly relax as you take in her gentle and welcoming smile and how something about her just eases peace, maybe it’s the constellations on her dress calming you or maybe she oozes the same energy that you found in them.

“Hi,” You don’t expect your voice to sound as small as it does and you quickly clear your throat before you continue, “I’m (Y/N), I’m uh…”

A look of excitement crosses across her features as she clasps her hands together and lets out a small squeal, “You’re Roosters girl? The doctor?” You nod your head slowly, shock settling in as to how she knew who you were, which you apparently weren’t good at hiding, as she links arms with you and smiles widely.

“At the rehearsal dinner the other day he could not stop talking about you! Honestly, I wish Sam talked about me as passionately as Rooster spoke about you. And, honey, the way his eyes lit up anytime someone asked about you, it’s adorable.”

Relief washes over you, Rooster had already spoken about you. He had planted the seeds that this relationship was legit in the minds of all the people here already, that made things easier. Now you just had to act like you were desperately in love with him, which was easy considering that you were no matter how much you refused to admit it to yourself.

Aunt Millie now turned to you with a smile and a glass of champagne, “Hello dear, I’m Mildred but you may call me Millie.”

You gently take the glass from her with a smile, “Hello Millie, my name’s (Y/N).” Her gentle smile and warm eyes remind you of your grandmother, and of the countless old ladies who made their way into an er throughout the year as a means to battle their loneliness, Gerard had said she would talk you ear off and you would have gladly let her if it meant she was a little less lonely for the night.

“Well my dear’s, almost all the guests are seated, shall we join them?” Sarah smiles at her mother and links her other arm through hers, keeping one linked with you, as you walk into the main reception area. Your mouth gaped open as you looked around, it was absolutely stunning. Vine wrapped stone pillars decorated with tiny lights that you were sure would look like twinkling stars once the night had hit, beautifully arranged circular tables curved in a crescent shape with a two person table at the centre reserved for the bride and groom that was decorated with beautiful white gardenias and wild flowers on top of a soft pink table cloth that resembled the colour of rose quartz,, with a lavender table either side (one for the groomsmen and their plus ones and one for the bridesmaids and their plus ones), which was followed by sky blue, then a gentle green colour, then a soft yellow, and then it repeated in reverse order (yellow,green, then blue, then lavender).

Each table had a flower centrepiece matching the colour of the table cloth, some sprigs of lavender on the lavender tables, blue daisies at the blue tables, limelight hydrangeas at the green tables, and coreopsis at the yellow tables. In the centre of the tables was the dance floor, edges decorated with bushes, all filled with blooming flowers of varying colours (you would have to assume most of them were artificial or else the smell would be completely overpowering), and hanging above it was a gorgeous chandelier that had been threaded with the same wildflowers as the bride and grooms table.

Behind the bride and groom's table, towards the back sat a photobooth very similar to the one found at proms and homecoming dances with a box of props at the side, that included toy swords, tiaras, and feather boas. At the very back of the room, hidden behind the floral background of the photobooth, was a pair of white arched doors that you assumed lead to the beach, if you listened close enough you could hear the waves crashing against the shore. It was like walking into a fairy tale.

Sarah gently guided her mother to her table and seat, it was at the blue table next to yours and she was seated with the mother and father of the groom, as well as some admirals from the navy who usually regarded you with a slight of disdain having meet you at naval event alongside your father, but now meet you with apprehensive smiles and a tilt of their glass in acknowledgment. You gave Millie a gentle goodbye and a promise that you would join her for a conversation at another time during the night.

Sarah then guided you to your own seat, the lavender table at the right hand side of the two person table, the groom's side you were assuming, and to your seat, though you probably could have figured that out yourself as placed at it was a placard with gentle swishing writing spelling your name. Thankfully, you were sat right next to Sarah and Rooster would be sitting on your right.

At the table were two other women already and Sarah introduced you to them as Peggy and Natasha, Steve’s fiance and James girlfriend. They’re both lovely women and conversation between the four of you flows quite easily, you discuss your respective careers, learning that Peggy actually works as a nurse in the paediatric unit of your new hospital, and Natasha teaches self defence, and Sarah is a pre-K teacher.

Throughout your conversation you feel eyes burning into you, though not in an unsettling way, more so a questioning way as if to determine if you were who you actually were and as you move your eyes away from the group of girls around you, you find a pretty blonde staring at you from the far lavender table on the bride’s side with a little bit of sadness in her eyes. She sits next to a tall man with dark curls and a soft lilac suit that perfectly matches her dress. She’s stunning and you quirk your head to the side, curious as to why she’s staring at you but, realisting she’s been caught, she quickly looks away from you.

You didn’t realise that everyone (minus the wedding party) were seated until the sound of the wedding march started to play from the speakers within the room and the door opens with the maid of honour and Sam making their way in first, followed by the next bridesmaid and Steve, and then the next bridesmaid and Bradley (who gives you a wink) as he enters, and then the next bridesmaid and James. All four of them make their way across the dance floor and to the couple’s table, where they separate to their respective sides with wide smiles.

“Introducing the newly wed Mr and Mrs Alcove!” Sam's loud tenor voice booms across the room, even without a mic, and in comes the happy couple wrapped up in each other’s arms. You had to admit you thought the bride was going to look ridiculous when Bradley had told you she was wearing a replica of the Cinderella dress, thinking she was going to be wearing the large iconic blue dress, but she looked absolutely stunning in the much simpler replica of the wedding dress from the live action movie. The dress was a beautiful creamy colour with a long, flowing skirt decorated with flowers, and atop the bride's head sat a gorgeous crown. She well and truly looked like a princess.

You smile and clap with the rest of the guests, some of them whooping and hollering as the couple make their way to the table. The couple share a passionate kiss in front of the table, arms wrapping around one another as if they needed the other to breathe, before sitting down and motioning for their wedding party to do the same. The party splits to either side of the table and takes their seat and as Bradley sits beside you, you reach over and place your hand on his thigh, rubbing it gently as you turn to him with a smile that he gladly returns.

---

The meal begins and conversation surges amongst the table, though it’s hushed it brings a buzz to the air and electrifies it. You're enjoying the conversation amongst your own table, Sam was telling a story about how Bradley literally tripped and broke his nose trying to impress someone while they were on deployment with each other. You, of course, laugh along to the story while Bradley leans back in his chair with a bit of a huff.

Once again you can feel the same eyes as earlier on you and as you look up, you’re once again met by the same blonde staring at you but this time she doesn’t look away until Bradley catches her eye. You can feel him straighten beside you as he leans forward, one arm wrapping around the back of your chair as he whispers in your ear, “That’s Molly.” And with that, the staring makes sense, though you’re still unsure how she knew it was you. With Sarah, you had introduced yourself but you hadn’t so much as said a word to the other girl.

Bradley leans back in his chair again, but keeps his arm wrapped around the back of your chair, his fingers rubbing gentle circles on your bare shoulder as you lean back into the chair.

---

After dinner and speeches, and first dances, Bradley joined the rest of the groomsmen to smoke a cigar out the front of the venue, joined by the wedding photographer who wanted to get a few more candid shots of the boys (you assumed she was still going to pose them, but in a more natural manner), leaving you at the table by yourself as Sarah had disappeared to talk to some of her relatives a few tables down and Peggy and Natasha (she insisted on you calling her Nat, but you just couldn’t having stored that nickname away for Phoenix) joined the bridal at the bridesmaids table for a conversation. Your eyes had met with Millies over the crowd, and you had every intention of going over to join the woman and converse with her, but a body landing in Sarah’s seat next to you stops you.

You turn to look who it was, not knowing anybody but those sat at your table, and find Molly sitting next to you. She looks nervous, chewing on her lips and fiddling with the golden chain wrapped around her left wrist, as she looks around for someone. She looks for a good few seconds, making sure whoever she was looking for was not going to suddenly pop up out of nowhere and usher her away, before her eyes settled on you.

When they do, you expect to see rage, jealousy, hate. Instead, they’re soft and kind and hold a hint of sadness in them that you recognise immediately, it's a look you’ve worn yourself. One of mourning a love lost, of grieving over a relationship you would never have, and you realise she’s mourning her relationship with Bradley.

Molly clears her throat slightly and she releases her lips from her teeth as she speaks, “I’m…uh, I’m Molly but you probably already know that.” Her eyes shuffle away from your face in nervousness, settling instead on the sprigs of lavender in the centre of your table, “And you’re (Y/N), right?”

You nod at her question, afraid to open your mouth but still wanting to acknowledge what she was saying, and she gives a small smile. “I thought so. When we were together Rooster would talk about you, tell me stories about the two of you, you look just like he described you.” You flush slightly, heat engulfing your cheeks, you didn’t know Rooster talked about you to Molly, didn’t know he spoke to anyone about you. “You really are as beautiful as he said.”

Molly’s eyes moved away from the lavender, landing on you and she tilted her head to the side with a small sigh. You know she isn’t here to be malicious, especially as she moves to take your hand in hers gently, “I shouldn’t be talking to you. The ex talking to the new girl? People will probably think I’m threatening you” You both let out a small chuckle at that, and you must admit she had a beautiful smile.

“That’s not what I’m here to do, promise.” She looks around her once again, this time you’re able to gather that she’s looking for Rooster, “I just wanted to let you know how in love Rooster is with you.” You’re shocked, and she gives a small giggle at your face as your mouth opens slightly.

“I’m not saying this to make you feel guilty, I am truly happy for Rooster that he finally managed to get you to agree to date him and , but I…I thought Rooster loved me, and maybe some part of him did, but after reading the letters I knew he would never love me like he loved you…” She looks back down to the bracelet on her arm and moves her hand away from yours to play with it again, “And seeing you two together? Seeing how he looks at you like you placed each individual star in the sky, as if you were born from stardust and the cosmos itself? God….”

Your brain finally catches up to you, and you reach an arm out to touch Mollys arm, “Wait. What letters?” Molly matches your confused look with one of her own, raising an eyebrow as she looks at you, “You haven’t seen the letters? He has a whole box of them, all addressed to you starting from when he was in basic and the most recent was one from his mission before he got called back to Top Gun.”

Your head suddenly feels too full, a million questions running through your head. He wrote you letters? All this time? Why didn’t he ever send them? What about them made Molly realise he was in love with you? Where were they now? Why did he keep them? Alongside your racing thoughts, your heart started to beat rapidly in your chest as the same tightness from this morning returned and you struggled to breath. Suddenly the sound of the party felt like it was a million miles away and it was distorted as if you were underwater, the pounding sound of your heart all you could hear, as your head started to feel dizzy and the room started to ring.

You could vaguely feel Molly reach out to you, a look of concern on her face, and she was speaking to you but you couldn’t make out exactly what she was saying. It seemed she called someone because in a second Sarah was at her side, a hand on your arm, she was also talking but you couldn’t make out what she was saying. You tried to relax your breathing, eight in, hold for six, eight out, a few times but it wasn’t working. As you panicked, your eyes moved from Molly and Sarah looking around the room for a way out and finally your eyes caught the edge of the arched doors leading to outside world, and you stand suddenly, knocking Sarah back slightly and mumble out, “I need…I need air,” as best you could given your inability to breath properly.

You rush away from the table and push through the large oak doors, letting them slam behind you, though you were sure no one was able to hear over the pounding bass of the music playing. It was dark out, night having fallen about an hour earlier, with the only light coming from the small porch you were standing on. Your eyes scan around you, the beach spreads out before you with the ocean only a short bit away and in a sudden decision you strip yourself of your shoes, leaving them on the porch, and stalk towards the water, not caring and not really in a rational mind to care about your dress.

You step into the water, walking until your ankles are fully covered and the skirt of your dress floats around you. The cold is a shock to your system and though the freezing cold would stop your panic attack you’re in too deep now for it to work, so instead you look to the sky. Lucky for you it’s a clear night and you can see some of the twinkling stars in the sky.

The stars, the one constant in a world of chaos and if your body was anything right now it was pure chaos. Your thoughts still hadn’t subsided and your heart was still thundering, the tightness in your chest remained the same and it felt like every breath you took was like breathing in shards of glass. You focused on the stars, tracing the familiar patterns of the constellations and picturing them in your head as you go. Slowly your heartbeat starts to slow and then your breathing even outs, your thoughts are cleared as you go over the names and summaries of each constellation you find.

Suddenly strong arms are wrapping around your waist and the scent of Bradley’s cologne fills your nostrils as he pulls you against his chest, saying nothing, just letting you ground yourself and come back down to earth.

The silence lingers for a few moments as you gather yourself, “How’d you know I was out here?”

Bradley chuckles slightly, arms tightening around your waist, “Sarah came out and got me, said you looked like you were having a panic attack and you ran off. Knew you would be somewhere looking at the stars.” You hum lightly in response, leaning your head back against his chest. It’s peaceful for a few seconds before you remember why you had your panic attack. Suddenly you’re pulling forward and turning towards Bradley with your arms crossed.

“Tell me about the letters Bradley”

Rooster curses to himself and avoids looking into your eyes, he knew he should have never left you alone. Should have known that Molly would seek you out, say something that gave away his secret. He brings his hands in front of him, wringing them together over and over again nervously.

“I-I…” Rooster was struggling to find something to say, wanting nothing more than for a huge wave to come and knock into the two of you so he could disappear. Your gaze was piercing, eyes narrowing slightly as he took too long to reply.

“I… I wrote them and then I meant to send them, I promise” Roosters hand carded through his hair, the effects of the products fading as he messed it up by doing so. Still he refuses to look at you, and you huff at it a little.

“Why didn’t you?” You uncross your arms, instead bringing your arms down and playing with your fingers in nervousness.

“Because…” Now Bradley looks in your eyes and he looks nervous, he couldn’t believe himself. Bradley flew F-18’s for a living, went into dangerous situations every day but this was the most scared he had ever been in his life. “No matter what I wrote, even if it was just about my day, about training, no matter the words, the only thing I wanted to write was I love you. I wanted to write it over and over and over again until my hands bled and that is not the confession you deserve.”

You let out a laugh, tears gathering in your eyes, “And this is?” You didn’t want to cry, didn’t mean to, but you were so overwhelmed with emotions that it was the only outlet you had. You still had residual adrenaline in your veins from your panic earlier and you were happy, oh so happy, that Bradley was in love with you, with his confession it was like every nerve in your body lit up at once and the only way you could express it was tears.

Bradley curses under his breath again, reaching a hand out to wipe the tears forming on your lash lines, “God no it’s not. This is not how I wanted to do this.” You let out another huff, rolling your eyes and looking away from him.

“Were you ever gonna do it or were you gonna let me go throughout the rest of my life thinking you didn’t love me back?”

Bradley, who had dropped his hand and turned his eyes away with your huff, snaps his eyes back to yours. He wasn’t expecting that, not in 100 years did he expect you to be in love with him as well.

“You really didn’t know?” He shakes his head, hands now reaching out to grab at yours as you step closer to him. You looked so pretty as you looked up at him through your lashes with a smile on your lips. You reached up to him, cupping his jaw gently in your hand and rubbing your thumb gently across the apple of his cheek.

“God Bradley. You wanna know why all my other relationships failed Bradley? Because I compare them all to you. No one was ever you. I have been in love with you since we were 16 and no other man or woman has ever compared to you.”

Bradley gulps, his adam's apple bobbing as he does, and he watches your eyes looking for any hint of dishonesty. Any glimmer that you were having him on. But there's nothing but love in your eyes, and suddenly he sees what everyone else saw. Pure, unbridled love.

“Can I kiss you?” His voice is soft as his hands move to hold you at your waist and you answer by pulling him down and pressing your lips against his. The kiss is sweet and gentle, your lips moulding together perfectly, but still filled with passion as he pulls you closer to his body. It wasn’t like the books described, no fireworks, no sparks, but rather a feeling of peace. One of home, as if your souls had been reaching out to each other your whole lives and were now touching. And though the kiss is sweet and soft and innocent, you can’t help the feeling of heat pooling in your abdomen as you thought of where this could be heading next.

You pull back from one another, but still stay close as he presses his forehead against yours and you wrap your arms around his neck. You stand like that, simply holding each other for a few moments, until a chill settles in you and you start to shiver a little.

Bradley gives you a small smirk, “Why don’t we head home and get warmed up? Huh?” You smile as he wiggles his eyebrows at you, making an obvious innuendo that you were all too happy to carry out, and nod and, reluctantly, untangle yourself from Bradley, making your way to the shoreline where you notice he’s abandoned his dress shoes. You suddenly turn to him with wide eyes and a hand over your mouth.

“Bradley! You’re dress whites!” He simply shakes his head with a smile, taking your hand in his as he puts his shoes back on, “Don’t worry about it angel. I’ll get them dry cleaned.” He places a kiss on your forehead to calm your nerves before you make your way back to the venue.

You disappear back into the room, your heels now in your hand, and make your way over to the table where Sarah is now sat with Natasha, Peggy, and Molly, who are all looking at you with slight concern. You simply smile and lift your purse, “I’m fine, promise. But we’re,uh, we’re gonna head home” The girls smile and give you hugs as you go, with Peggy promising to stay in touch and Natasha gives you a ‘be safe’ with a wink.

As you said goodbye to them, Bradley ordered the two of you an uber, having had a few beers and you having had a few champagnes and wine, and said goodbye to the groomsmen who are all giving him knowing looks, especially as you approach behind Bradley and place your hand on his upper forearm and rub it gently as you give your own goodbyes to the boys.

The uber is quick in arriving and you and Bradley climb into the back seat, anxious to get back to your place (which is closer than Bradley’s who lives in Fightertown). In the back of the car, your hand finds Bradley’s thigh and you start to rub gently on it, biting down on your lip as you do. You feel Bradley tense at the touch, his eyes shifting to watch you and figure out what you’re doing and he swears to god that the you were trying to kill him with the way you’re biting your lip and looking at him like you wanted to jump his bones right here in the back of the uber.

As your hand ghosts closer and closer to his hardening cock, Bradley has to suppress a groan, instead pretending to cough as he glares at you. You were playing a very dangerous game. He grabs at your hand as it ghosts across his cock, loose enough that you can pull away if you want but tight enough that it sends a warning. You only smile at him, cocking an eyebrow, “Everything okay, lieutenant?”

The sound of his rank rolling off your tongue has Bradley biting back a moan as he throws his head back against the headrest, you were definitely going to be the death of him, and by the looks of it you knew exactly what you were doing to him. Instead of releasing your hand, he threads his fingers through it to stop your hand from wandering and you pout a little in your seat.

The drive to your place was far too long for Bradley, seemingly dragging on forever despite the almost empty roads, but that might have been the frustration bubbling inside of him that only seemed to grow every time he met your lust-blown eyes. When you finally stop at your place, he rushes out a thanks as he all but tumbles out of the car, causing you to giggle, and makes his way to your side, opening your door for you with a goofy grin on his face.

You mutter out a thanks to the driver before taking Bradleys outreached hand and climbing out yourself, you’re barely out of the car before the driver speeds off leaving you and Bradley at the bottom of the path leading to your place. Bradley can’t help himself as he cups your face in his hands and presses a deep kiss to your lips, which you gladly reciprocate, moving your lips in sync as you grab at the collar of his jacket.

You don’t wanna end the kiss, so instead you twist a little and start walking back on the path and Bradley’s hands move from your face to your waist to hold you steady and help prevent you from falling. Your back hits against the front door and you finally pull away from Bradley with laboured breaths, “I… I need to…”

All words vanish from your mind as Bradley starts to kiss down your neck, squeezing gently where his hands meet your hips, stopping at a particular spot that has you whining in pleasure to pay extra attention to it, you could already imagine the bruise that would be there come the morning. At your little sounds, Bradley smirks against your skin and kisses back up your neck making his way to your lips once again, where he places a gentle peck.

“What was that angel?” You roll your eyes at him playfully, turning your back to him with a smile as you start to rummage through your bag for your keys, which would be a thousand times easier if Bradley didn’t preoccupy himself with running his hands over your clothed body and placing kisses against your neck and shoulders, giving you a matching hickey on the other side. Finally, and with a fumbling hand, you find your keys and quickly unlock your door before turning to Bradley and pulling him in by his collar, dropping your purse by the door and pushing it closed with your foot.

Bradley hums appreciatively into your mouth, arms wrapping around your waist once again and pushing you against the door once again. You stay there, kissing each other slowly and passionately, as if you had all the in the world to enjoy each other. Eventually Bradley pulls away from you, laboured breaths fanning against your face as yours fanned against his and you want nothing more than to pull him forward into another kiss but you also know if you continued this here you wouldn’t make it to the bedroom.

You placed a hand on his chest, your blown out eyes looking into his, “I want this off lieutenant.” This time Bradley let’s himself moan at how his rank rolls of your tongue and pulls away from you enough to let himself the room to unbutton his jacket, and for you to bend down and take your shoes (which you put back on waiting for the uber, not wanting to carry them) off, throwing them down beside your purse.

After all the buttons are undone, your hands are spreading across the expanse of Bradley’s chest that was still covered by his hunder shirt until you are moving the jacket down his shoulders and off his body completely. His lips press to yours once again and you run your hand up his chest, and around his neck to play with the little hairs at the base of his neck. With this kiss, Bradley pushes his tongue into your waiting mouth and plays with your own causing a small moan to resonate from your throat.

While your hands are preoccupied, Bradleys are smoothing over your hips and running up the expanse of your rib cage to reach behind you and undo the zip on your dress, which he does quite fluidly and the bodice falls gently from your chest onto Bradleys. You pull away from him again, finger pressing against his white undershirt, “This too.”

Bradley only smirks and gladly removes the offending item of clothing, allowing you to take a step back so that your dress would fall from your frame completely and pool at the ground which leaves you in nothing but the matching set of underwear you put on earlier. Bradley groans at the sight, his hands reaching out to paw at the skin now exposed to him. He grips at your hips tightly, fingers digging into the skin as he does, pulling you close to his body.

“You are so goddamn perfect.”

If you weren’t already flushed from the situation, you most definitely would be from his compliment. You place a hand on Bradleys chest, pushing him slightly so he starts to walk backwards down your hall towards the bedroom, and while Bradley loved seeing you take a little bit of control he couldn’t let you have it all. So he very quickly has you pushed against the wall of the hall, right beside a photo of him and you, with his knee pressed between your thighs and he swears he can feel how wet you are through your panties and his dress trousers, causing him to groan as he kissed you once again. This time a little bit more fervently than the last.

You happily reciprocate, mixing your tongue with his and throwing your arms around his neck to pull him as close as possible. You moan gently as he knocks the knee in between your thigh against your aching core, which only encourages him to do it again only harder. This time you pull away from him with a desperate moan and he smirks at you.

“You like that angel?” You nod your head at him as he presses against you again and this time you grind down to meet the movement, letting out a moan as you do so. The sight of you grinding down on his knee has Bradley groaning and growing even harder in his dress pants than he was before. He needed to have you and he needed to have you now. Quickly, Bradley falls to his knees in front of you, his hands making quick work of discarding your panties, and he moans at the sight of you.

“You’re so wet angel, is all this for me?” He looks up at you through his lashes, hands now gripping onto your thighs and he looks so good between your thighs, pupils absolutely blown so that very little iris remains and a devilish smirk on his face. You can only nod at him, to which he tuts and bites gently down on your thigh causing you to whine. “Come on now angel, use your words like a good girl”

You swear you feel your wetness dripping down your thighs at his word and you bite back the whine gathering in your throat, “All for you lieutenant,” you had noticed the effect calling him by his rank had on him earlier and you were going to fully take advantage of that.

“That’s a good girl”

Suddenly Rooster licks a stripe up your slit, causing you to throw your head back with such force your picture frame shakes and let out a moan, your hand coming to tangle in Bradley’s hair as he continues to lick at your cunt. It goes at it like a man starved being presented his last meal, licking and sucking at your clit as he goes, which has you a moaning, panting mess above him, barely able to utter a coherent word other than ‘Bradley’.

You were teetering so close to the edge now, the coil in your stomach tightening and tightening. Bradley removed a hand from your thigh, instead bringing it round to rub gentle circles on your clit while he pushed his tongue into your entrance, causing you to tug on his hair with such a force that Bradley moaned and that was it, the coil in your stomach snapped and suddenly you were cuming all over Bradley’s face with a choked moan of his name.

But that didn’t stop him, no Bradley continued on throwing you into overstimulation as he swapped his finger and mouth. His mouth latched onto your clit while his middle finger slide into you, you were a babbling mess of ‘too much, too much’ but Bradley wasn’t going to stop. Not when you tasted and felt so good. Slowly he entered a second finger into you and you could feel your coil tightening once again as he moved in and out of you, occasionally curling his fingers to try and find the spot. Which he quickly does, your sharp intake of break and deep moan letting him know he’s found it.

Bradley lets go of your clit with a pop and looks up at you, slightly teary eyed at the overstimulation and with your mouth wide open as moan and moan slipped from your lips. He could have stayed like this forever, just watching you as he got you off with his mouth and fingers. He continued to abuse your g-spot, pressing against every time his finger push into you, watching your face twist in pleasure as he does. God you look and feel so good that he can’t help but reach into his dress trousers to rub at his cock to get some kind of relief, because at this point he feels like he might burst.

Bradley feels you tightening around his fingers and he presses a kiss against the inside of your thigh, “You gonna cum for me again angel?” You nod your head, eyes squeezed shut as pleasure courses through you and the coil in your stomach gets tighter. This time Bradley bites at your thigh and scissors his fingers inside of you, “What I say angel? Gotta use your words?”

You let out another strangled moan, the coil read to snap once again, “Yes lieutenant, gonna cum again.” Bradley smirks against your thigh, you can feel it against your skin as he presses another gentle kiss there, “Go ahead angel, cum for me.”

Another strangled cry of his name falls past your lips as you cum for a second time and Bradley nearly moans at the sensation of you squeezing on his fingers and he can’t help imagine that feelings on his cock when he fucks you. Pulling his fingers from you, Bradley stands once again, smirking at your already fucked out expression, and places his fingers on your lips. Without needing instruction, you open your mouth and suck them in, swirling your tongue around them to clean them off.

“You’re such a good girl angel.” You whimper at his words and Bradley pulls his fingers from your mouth to cup your jaw and pull you into another searing kiss as his other hand wraps around your thigh and pulls it up to his waist in silent instruction, which you follow jumping to wrap both your legs around his waist, your bare cunt now rubbing against the fabric of his dress trousers and against his clothe cock hidden inside, causing a moan to fall from both your lips.

Bradley pulls you from the wall and proceeds to move towards your bedroom, he had spent the night innocently when you first moved in earlier in the week and knew exactly where he was going, never breaking your kiss as he does. Gently, he lowers you down onto your bed before breaking your kiss to stand at the end of your bed and watch you. Your pupils are completely blown and you whine at the loss of contact, which he finds just absolutely adorable.

“Patience angel. Now be a good girl and take your bra off for me.” You do as you're told, reaching behind you to unhook your bra and then throwing it somewhere in your bedroom, as Bradley reaches down and strips himself of his dress pants and boxers. Now, you had heard many a rumour in college about Bradley and how well endowed he was, and you were very happy to say that the rumours were true.

As Bradley’s cock smacks against his stomach, you salivate at the sight of it. You sit up as Rooster crawls onto the bed, strong thighs in between your knees, your chest rubbing against his providing stimulation to your nipples that has you moaning which Bradley takes advantage of by shoving his tongue into your mouth. You moan at the sensation, one hand grabbing at his neck while the other reaches down to stroke his cock.

You rub gently at the tip first, gathering the precum in your palm, which Bradley moans obscenely at, and then you start moving your hand up and down his length using the precum as a lubricant. You smirk into your kiss with Bradley as he continues to moan at the sensation of your hand wrapped around his length, suddenly the sensation of your nail scratching lightly at the underside of his cock has him cursing and stuttering forward. Bradley knew he wasn’t going to last long if you continued your teasing and there was no way he was going to cum unless he was wrapped in your pretty pussy.

Suddenly Bradley grabs your hand from his length, as well as the one on his neck, and pins them above your head with one hand with a small growl that has you clenching your thighs together to get some friction despite having already came twice.

“That's enough teasing from you angel.”

You whine lightly, and struggle against his grip, wanting to touch him, but he simply tuts at your behaviour and rubs his cock through your folds, catching your clit on the tip as he does. You moan at the sensation and let a please slip past your lips.

“Please what baby?”

“Ple…Please fuck…fuck me lieutenant”

You can barely get the words out as Bradley continues rocking though your folds, hitting against your clit every time he does, but you do. Bradley smiles, leaning down to kiss you as he lines himself up with your entrance and pushing himself in. You gasp at the stretch, eyes closing and mouth falling open as you do.

“You okay angel?”

You nod your head, “Yes, feels s’good, keep going.”

Bradley was not one to deny you what he wanted, so slowly he kept going until he was bottomed out in you. God you felt absolutely amazing as you squeezed him trying to adjust to the size. He was definitely bigger than anything you had before, so you needed time to adjust. After a few seconds you're begging Bradley to move, you needed him to move, and so he obeys by pulling almost all the way out and slamming back in again which causes a loud, pornogaphic moan to fall from your lips.

He does it again, and again, hitting the right spot over and over again as he did, which caused you to see stars but you still needed more. “Faster Bradley, please.” Your eyes roll into the back of your head as Bradley moves faster, causing a moan to fall from your lips with every movement. The pleasure was immense, you could feel every part of him inside you, every ridge and every vein pressing against your walls and you could swear his head was hitting against your cervix, and you could feel the coil in your stomach begin to tighten once again.

You begin to babble out Bradley’s name as you approached another orgasm and he threads the fingers of the hand holding your arms down with one of yours, letting the other one go to come down and grab at his shoulder as he pistoned his hips into you, “I’m right here angel, you’re doing so well for me.”

He lets out a deep moan as you squeeze down on him with the praise, pressing kisses and bites to your shoulders and collarbones, moving his way down until his lips wrapped around your nipples as a way to contain his sounds and to stop him from speaking, because if you squeezed down on him everytime he praised you there was no way he was lasting to give you another orgasm, and he was determined to give you another one.

With a sharp snap of his hips, he finds your g-spot once again, moving on from beating your cervix, and instead beating into that spot over and over again causing loud moans and whimpers to fall from yours lips as the coil inside you tightened and tightened again and with a whimper you let Bradley know you’re gonna cum again.

With a pop he releases your nipple and brings his free hand down to rub at your clit to bring you over the edge as he continues his abuse of you g-spot, “Come on angel, cum for me. You’ve been taking me so well.”

With the pressure on your clit and the praise falling from Bradley’s lips you quickly fall over the edge and cum around his cock, the pressure from you squeezing him so tightly causing his hips to stutter as he reaches his own peak, filling you up with his cum. You openly moan at the sensation of him pulsing inside you, the feeling of his cum painting your walls just felt amazing to you.

Bradley quickly presses a kiss to your lips as he pulls out of your sensitive hole, and runs a hand gently through your hair, your little butterflies lost somewhere in the chaos. You place a hand against his cheek and kiss him back gently, your fingers moving to push some hair off his sweaty forehead. As he pulls his lips of yours, Bradley presses his forehead against yours with a goofy smile on his face.

“You’re amazing (Y/N), I love you”

“I love you too Bradley”

Bradley lifts himself off you and off the bed, to which you groan already missing his warmth, and Bradley just rolls his eyes a little as he moves towards the bathroom. “I’m only getting a washcloth to clean up with, stop being a baby.”

You still pout at his turned back, though you are grateful he’s going to clean you up, most men didn’t but then again Bradley wasn’t most men. He’s back in seconds, a damp washcloth in hand and he’s gentle in the way he wipes you down from your neck and chest to your aching pussy where his cum is dripping out, making sure to wipe down your thighs as well before throwing the washcloth in your wash basket.

Bradley gently lifts you from the bed, allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist as he does, so he can pull back the blankets before he sets you back down. Though you are desperate for his touch, and he knows it, he goes over to the drawer he knows you keep your pyjamas in and pulls out and oversized shirt he gave you in college and then he goes to a drawer you had made up for him of some sweats and stuff so he could get changed at your place after training.

Quickly, he slips the sweats on over his hips before making his way back over to you. Your eyes are slightly glazed over and they are struggling to stay open as you fight with sleep, but still you turn to him and match the small smile on his face. “Arms up”

Bradley’s voice is soft but still commanding and you do as your told, raising your arms up so he can put the oversized shirt on you. Once it’s on, he leans on the bed slightly and presses a kiss to your forehead, “You need anything angel? Water? Snacks?”

You shake your head and move over on the bed, “Just you B”

Bradley smiles and crawls into bed next you, pulling you close to his chest as he wraps his arms around your shoulder. Your head rests on his pec while your hand reaches out to rest opposite you, just about his heart, and you follow the rhythm of beating until your eyes are closing and your drifting off to sleep.

---

You wake up to a text from an unknown number of a photo of you and Bradley wrapped up in one another in the ocean the night before, you seemed to be in the perfect position for the moon to illuminate your bodies as you kiss, “You’re souls are so deeply intertwined with one another that even the moon bends to your love xxx Molly”.

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vcrooster · 2 years

Text

He needs his family

Angst, smut & and just a little bit of fluff.

Paring: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw & Wife!Reader

Word count: 3.3k

Summary: Your husband come back home to you completely shattered.

Warnings: mentions of rough sex, mental health issues, mentions of death and blood.

Author’s note: thank you guys so much for all the love I’ve been receiving from you guys! 🤍

***

Rooster was usually enthusiastic when he came back home from deployment.

You could tell when he was happy to be back in the comfort of his home, enjoying every second with his boy that had gotten a couple of inches bigger since he left. Rooster had promised to teach him how to play the piano and show him granpa’s album collection when he got back.

But he had to admit that the best part of it was sleeping in his own bed in your arms every night, he’d miss making love to you and looking at how pretty your face looked when you started to doze off into your sleep.

But this time it was all different.

He doesn’t know you know. You received a call early in the morning, your alarm wasn’t set for another three hours. It didn’t startle you as much thinking it was Bradley since he’s overseas. But it wasn’t him, it was Pete.

Your heart sank, you didn’t want all the worst scenarios to play in your head, but they did.

“Pete” You tried to sound as if you weren’t biting your nails anxiously. But you knew that he was the bearer of bad news.

“Sorry to wake you up–” He started.

“No, no, no, it’s alright”.

“There’s been some complications in the mission with Bradley” He sighed. You covered your mouth trying to drown the sorrows. Oh god no, don’t let him be dead.

“Is he?” The words left your mouth so silently that you almost thought he wouldn’t hear you.

“He’s okay, they just have him in observation in the hospital” He is quick to clarify, imagining what you must be feeling on the other end. “His wingman didn’t make it”.

Your body feels cold when he says that. It’s not the first time he had an accident in the air, however this was the first time he lost anyone, and if it was his fault you know he will never forgive himself for it.

“He’s set to go home by the end of next week, I’m just supposed to be calling you just to let you know to pick him up at the airport” you hear a door close on his side of the line and his voice is much clearer.

“What happened?” The hot tears were falling down your cheeks and your nails were digging in the palm of your hand.

“I can’t go into details” Pete breathed out “All he needs is his family right now”.

“Alright” all the words get stuck in your throat. He hangs up the call leaving you unsettled.

It’s three in the morning and you're crying in your bed. You feel a lot of pressure in your head, your eyes trail off to the framed picture of your wedding day on your bedroom wall.

Your boy in the middle of both of you, he was just a couple of years old in that picture, had the biggest smile on his face just like Bradley’s.

He looks so much like him.

He was always stealing your phone to send him videos and pictures of what he was doing, he liked to keep him updated.

He had even dressed up as a pilot for halloween, he asked for you to make him a patch with the name: Nick Bradshaw “Hawk”, the call sign Bradley chose for him when they’d use to play pilots in the living room.

But lately he hasn’t replied to him.

You hate to see your son keep sending messages to him with no answer. It absolutely broke your heart when he asked you if his dad was mad at him.

You’d expect him to call you and tell you what happened but he didn’t.

Him going no contact for almost a week felt like forever, the only thing you knew from him were Pete’s texts tell you he’s not doing very well. Needless to say they just made the knot in your stomach grow bigger.

He finally decided to call you a couple of days before coming back. It wasn’t a long call, all that you could rescue from it was that he’s okay and he couldn’t wait to be back home. Nothing about the mission or his wingman.

It was a Saturday morning when he finally arrived back in Oregon, back home. Nick had spent all afternoon making a sign for his dad that read “Rooster” just like in his helmet.

“Mom help me hold it higher so he can see the sign I made”. You do your best in lifting him up, wrapping your arms around his stomach. He wasn’t that heavy for a six year old, but you had to admit you did struggle a little. “There he is! Dad!”

He looked tired– very tired. He had some bandages around his arm and from what you could tell he also had a limp on his right leg.

His pretty hazel eyes had some prominent eye bags below them that he was trying to hide under a black baseball cap, but managed to smile when he spotted you in the crowd of people.

As soon as Nick’s feet were in the ground again he ran straight to his dad giving him the biggest hug he could.

His hand takes Bradley’s walking him towards where you were standing. You see how his eyes tone down once he meets yours.

He didn’t waste no time, he’s holding you so close to him you could feel yourself melting into him. The only thing that runs through your head is Maverick saying that Rooster needs his family.

“Welcome home honey” you whispered to his ear and that made him hold you tighter.

“I missed you guys so much” you rubbed his back. He’s been gone for almost seven months, you could honestly stay like this for hours.

“Dad, did you see my sign?” Your son pulls on his arm to try and grab his full attention, you find it so adorable how he had to get on his tippy toes to reach it.

“I did see it, you made this?” He was holding the paper in his hands, lowering at Nick’s height. He nodded with pride and started to explain it to Bradley. “ Can I keep it?”

“Yeah, I made it for you”.

“I love it, thank you” He hugs him one more time before rolling it up so he can put it on his backpack “C’mere” he carries him all the way back to the car on his shoulders.

The car ride was unexpectedly quite enjoyable, you could tell that he was trying to avoid any question that had to do with his deployment, nonetheless he seemed to be his warm self, which was honestly a big relief, you were prepared to have him at his worse but here he is smiling and singing in your car without a care in the world.

If you didn’t know him any better you’d know how good he is at evading the actual problems, he hopes that you're not too mad at him.

He wasn’t ignoring you. He was tired and maybe that was the worst excuse he could ever give you but there was no way he could talk to you without breaking down, how could he ever tell you it’s his fault that someone is dead.

There are a lot of maybes he’s scared about and it feels so intimidating looking into your eyes and saying that he’s alright just a little bruised so that you don’t have to be worried about him, he doesn’t know how long is he going to be able to keep it up, last thing he wants is for you to be disappointed in him.

He makes conversation about how he likes the new changes you made to the house, he marks down the inch Nick grew in the past months, he helps with dinner and the dishes. He has to repeat to himself that everything is alright, everything is normal, but he can even bring himself out of the bathroom without his anxiety shooting to the roof.

Before he could allow his mind to overthink any further he opens the door, finding you putting his clothes away on his side of the closet. His heart beats faster every step he takes in your direction and reminds himself to loosen up, that you love him.

“Hey” He hugs you from behind leaving a sweet kiss on your temple. There were still some traces of the vanilla scent you used and that was his favorite on you.

“Hi” You turn wrapping your arms around his neck giving him a warm smile. His hands fall to your hips holding tightly.

You can tell he’s nervous, his thumbs draw circles on your skin and he bites the inside of his cheek. The way his eyes look at you starts to take you back to the hurt Bradley from when his mother passed away.

You hate that you feel sorry for him, it’s just one thing after the other for him, it’s like he can’t catch a break.

You close the distance hugging him as hard as you could “Hey, it’s alright. You’re home.” you whisper trying to make him feel better.

Most people would never guess how depressed Rooster could get, the way he would let himself spiral into the rabbit hole made it sometimes very hard to pull him out of it. And it cost you a lot to do it but he was worth it.

You’ve always tried to be a good wife to him, always tried to make sure he didn’t feel alone, even when you weren’t by his side you tried to give him a ground to stand on.

“What happened Bradley?” Your fingers running slowly through his hair. He remained silent pulling closer to him as if he was trying to keep you from running away from him.

You know he doesn’t want to answer you. Not yet at least.

“I love you” His beautiful hazel eyes look straight into yours now looking like they lost their warmth.

There is a knot in your chest growing and growing as you see how shattered your husband came back home to you.

“I love you so much Bradley”.

His lips join yours in a tender kiss where he lets himself go.

Your fingers brush the skin of his neck pulling him closer to your body. You clutched at his shoulders as he started to take a few steps back letting the back of your knees hit the edge of the bed.

“Fuck, I missed you” His tounge immediately made its way into your mouth. Your legs wrapped tightly around his body and you felt him grow inside his shorts.

His fingers were having a hard time unbuttoning your pyjama. You chuckled, helping him undo it after giving up moving to your shorts, his hands got lost under the waistband so that he could rub your clit over the fabric making you moan his name just in the way he missed it so much.

It takes you a second to return to your blouse revealing his favorite teal lingerie under it.

“You wore this just for me baby?” He takes the straps feeling the silky material on his fingers. You nod, taking your bottom in between your teeth. Tracing the embroidery on your breast he took the opportunity to squeeze and knead them. “How lucky am I”.

You run your hands across his chest under the cotton material, feeling his dogs tags. Pulling at his shirt but it only resulted in him pinning your hands above your head, lips joining yours so hungrily that not being able to run your fingers through his hair was enough to make you whine.

Leaning down trailing down between your breasts leaving tiny red marks along your skin. “Rooster”. He went crazy when you used his call sign during sex.

He wanted to taste you so badly, he’s been thinking about it for months. You watch as he throws you leg over his shoulders kissing and giving small bites to the inside of your thigh.

He goes for it, immediately going for your clit making you arch your back.

He holds you down firmly with one hand as the fingers of the other curl inside you. He sucks on your clit and flicks it with his tongue, the only thing you can do is grip his hair tighter pulling him closer to you.

His fingers working inside you boy made the pleasure bubble up on your lower stomach. He waits for you to cum even though he is about to explode inside his shorts.

“Shit, I’m so hard already” you pull him up palming him over the material, gasping at how sensitive he was.

“What are you waiting for then?”.

He had been dreaming of this moment every night for the past seven months. He missed your touch, your kisses, how you felt around him, how every time it feels better than the last time.

He missed his wife.

He held you against his chest all night. His hot breath caressing your ear and arm wrapping on your waist.

The days got better, Bradley has been taking care of Nick, making up for the lost time. You did have to admit having not to worry about your son every hour of the day was a huge relief.

Bradley’s nights had gotten worse the following weeks. Waking up in the middle of the night covered in sweat, panting, feeling more exhausted one night after the other.

He didn’t want to worry you, he was becoming a little too irritated at all times, being at home, with Nick, he wouldn’t speak too Maverick, he even was a little too rough during sex.

It’s like he wasn’t himself anymore.

There he was on top of you, the strands of his hair sticking to his forehead, eyes closed and lips parted.

His thrusts got to a point of getting too harsh making you feel uncomfortable instead of feeling pleasure. Your nails sinking into the skin of his shoulder blades as you’re trying to ignore how the discomfort turns into pain.

“Bradley…” it barely comes out as a whisper thanks to the pressure in your throat.

He groans in response, digging his fingers into your hip holding you steady for him.

“Bradley” it was a little louder this time but his mind was somewhere else “Slow down”.

Rooster was usually passionate but gentle, now matter how caught up he was he’d always make sure you were enjoying yourself as much as he was.

“Please Bradley”. You were trying not to freak out, but it wasn’t long before you'd let go of all the tears you were holding back. “You’re hurting me”.

You push his shoulders with the little strength you have left and finally manage to get his attention.

He stops. It finally stops.

He sees the tears running down your cheeks and how your hands are shaking over the skin of his chest. And your eyes, fuck your eyes, they looked so scared of him.

“Shit, shit, shit” What has he done? “I’m sorry, I’m sorry” He just now noticed that you're still trying to push him off you.

You let out a painful whimper when he finally pulled out. He spotted a bloodstain on the sheets right in between your thighs and the burning that your nails left on his shoulders.

What has he done?

“Baby I’m so sorry” Rooster wasn’t exactly sure if it was alright to go near you, he thought it was better to create some distance instead of forcing you to accept his touch. “I didn’t–”. He swallowed, not knowing what to say that wasn’t an apology. “Fuck, I didn’t mean– I’m sorry”

You wrap the sheets around your body as you make your way to the bathroom. Not once you look at him, the whole situation feels confusing, the only thing you want to do is clean the blood running down your thighs.

He calls your name on the other side of the door. He listens to everything, drawers opening, water running, you crying.

“I’m so sorry” he felt himself choking sitting next to the door trying to stay afloat. “I keep fucking everything up”.

You grab your robe before opening the door. You’re not mad at him, he means it when he says he’s sorry, he didn’t want to hurt you. He was hurting and the pit inside him is only getting bigger.

You sit next to him and he immediately wraps his arms around you looking for your forgiveness. “I’m so sorry”.

He’s crying. You haven’t seen him cry since he left for deployment when Nick was a couple of months old.

“I know, I know Bradley” His eyes fogged when you reached cupping his face caressing his cheeks with your thumbs. “But you need to talk to me. You need to stop acting like everything is alright”.

“I told him to take a left turn” His voice is shaky as he holds your hand.

“What?”.

“I didn’t see the bandits up ahead, they weren’t in the radar”. Words filled with so many emotions, tearing him apart. “They shot us down. He didn’t have time to eject” he finally opened up. “I heard him scream in the fire. I couldn’t help him.”

What could you possibly say to him? You had no idea it was this bad when Maverick called you that night.

“He had a kid…” That broke Rooster. There was a child somewhere that was going to grow up without his Dad. Just like he did, just like his own boy could’ve had if he wasn’t behind his wingman that day.

“Oh Bradley” You hugged him as he cried in your chest. Last time you were in this position it was when Nick’s cat died.

He cries with so much guilt and pain. He cries in the same way he did holding on to his mother’s hand when she passed in the hospital bed.

“It’s not your fault” You whispered “it could’ve happened to anybody” His fingers were digging in your skin again, not letting you go anywhere.

“Mom?” Nick’s body was half way into the room looking so worried he almost had a scared expression on his face.

“Everything is alright honey, go back to your room”.

Bradley stiffness in your arms. He doesn’t want his boy to see him like this. He’s supposed to be his hero, no kid should ever see his hero like this, right?

“What’s wrong with Dad?” His small hazel eyes can’t look away from his father. “Does he have a tummy ache?” He makes it a little further into the room only thinking of how to help his Dad. “I’ll go get some tums”. You hear his footsteps go all the way down to the kitchen opening up the pantry doors.

Rooster chuckles at his son’s innocence.

“I’m sorry” he says one more time before leaving a soft kiss on your lips.

“You don’t have to apologize to me, we’ll stay with you now matter what Bradley, nothing is changing that”. You wipe the tear that’s about to reach his lips and place a soft kiss on them.

Nick is back in no time, Bradley sits up and puts a smile on his face thanking his kid for taking care of him.

“Here daddy” Rooster opens his palm letting the tables fall on his hand “I got you two because you're bigger than me”.

“Thank you” Rooster takes a hand to his hair, messing it up a little more than it already is “You mind keeping an eye on me tonight?” He hugs his son, he hugs him knowing that every single second with him matters more than he thinks.

“Only if you promise to throw up in the bathroom”.

“I promise” his pinky intertwines with Bradley’s.

He takes care of the bed before he lets you both go on it, taking care of the previous sheets.

No nightmares just him and the people he loved the most.

#bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster #rooster angst #rooster one shot #rooster smut #rooster top gun #top gun #top gun maverick

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ohtobeleah · 1 year

Text

NCIS // Bradley Bradshaw

Summary: Bradley Bradshaw knows when his soon to be wife shows up randomly on Friday evening at the Hard Deck it can’t be good. But just how bad could things really be, right?

Warnings: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x NCIS reader. Angst, Fluff. A little bit of action.

Word Count: 8.2k

Author Note: I’m glad you all had such a positive response to this idea. Here’s a one shot to say thank you for being absolute legends. Might even be open to doing more if this does well.

“What’s got you all twisted?” Rooster smirked as he watched Hangman glare down the pool table. Missing his shot by a mile. The usual confidence ridden aviator had seemingly shrunk into a hermit style shell for the last half an hour or so. Rooster had walked in half way through the game. Settling into his surroundings with a beer and a side of fries on the way.

Hangman didn’t even bother with a response, simply ignoring the question all together as he lined up another shot at redemption.

“Oh he tried to make a move on the civ sitting at the bar—she really knocked him down a peg.” Javy tried to hide his content. He always enjoyed when his best friend learnt a lesson or two. Not everyone was obsessed with Jake Hangman Seresin—and quite frankly? Sometimes he needed to be humbled. And humble Hangman you did indeed.

“Which one?” Rooster asked as he turned around, his eyes immediately landing on you as you sat by yourself. Content with the beer in front of you. Clearly working a case. “You know what? Never mind—I already have a gut feeling.” Finishing the rest of the beer Hangman had so graciously ordered last round, Rooster really did try and play it cool as he took strides to get to you. Trying to bury the fact if he had to he’d move goddamn mountains to get to you. His best friend. His fiancé. None of the team knew about Bradley Bradshaw's love life. He hadn’t found the right time to introduce you to the squad. His colleagues, friends. He was trying to, honestly. But with your line of work? It was becoming increasingly hard to pin you down.

As Rooster made his way over to you by the bar. Pushing past people who got in his way absentmindedly—you spotted him. Sending him a smirk that he’d missed seeing in person. FaceTime just didn’t do your beauty justice. Looking at your fiancé so helplessly stunned for only a split second before you forced yourself to remain calm. Rooster thought back to the first time he met you.

You hated being on carriers. For an NCIS agent, being aboard was a big part of your job description. It was something that couldn't be avoided, although you really did try. It wasn't that you weren't good on ships or got nauseous from the motion of the ocean, no. It was something far less exhilarating than throwing up at any given moment in front of whoever had fallen victim to the sight of your breakfast, lunch and or dinner making a quick escape.

It was the fact you never knew where on earth you were fucking going. And that really sucked.

Bradley Bradshaw had seen you going around in circles for the last forty five minutes. He’d been watching you from a distance. First he saw you when he was going over his Super Hornet. Checking its systems, the landing gear, the tags. All the good stuff. Then he saw you in the galley, looking confused and almost overwhelmed with the amount of crew that had filled in for dinner. And the last time Rooster saw you before he decided enough was enough? Was when he saw you heading down towards the engine room… What the hell were you doing? Were you–lost?

“Ma’am you aren’t lost are you?” Bradley Bradshaw considered himself a confident man when it came to talking to women, but for a moment you made it hard to formulate another sentence when you turned around to face him. Completely knocking the wind out of him with the way you looked so helplessly stunned. “Because if you are, I'm more than happy to help.” Yep. That was the moment Bradley Bradshaw knew he wanted you in his life.

“I'm good, thanks.” Shrugging the sailor off, it wasn't that you didn't want help. You just had too much pride to admit you were in fact. Lost. Rooster watched with an all knowing smirk as you turned around, heading straight to what he knew to be a deadend towards the laundry room. Unless that was what you had been looking for the entire time? Bradley knew you would have to pivot your way back past him. Opting to stay put, leaning against the hull with his arms crossed waiting for you to make your appearance.

Which you inevitably had to do because you were fucking lost. Sending the sailor with the cute smirk a look when you met him back where he stood originally. Stopping right next to Bradley as he smirked down at you. All Knowing.

“Okay, so maybe I am lost.” He smelt of pear and freesia. The delectable fresh scent that could be bottled and sold. It reminded you of home. “I'm looking for my room, 507.” Bradley raised his eyebrows in disbelief. Had you been wondering the entirety of the carrier trying to look for the dorms and bunks and hadn’t bothered to stop and ask a single soul for help. “The captain said my stuff had already been dropped off but I'm so disorientated.”

“First time on a carrier ma’am?” Rooster asked kindly as he walked with you in the complete opposite direction to where you had originally been going. Huh, you really were lost.

“Would you believe me if I said no?” Rooster chuckled quietly to himself at your response. “No, I do this more often than not, I should be used to this whole, ant hill.” You tried to explain as you walked side by side, not really in a hurry to get where you were going. Rooster couldn't have known you were NCIS. You were just in your blue jeans, white T and oversized corduroy jacket. There was nothing about you that screamed, ‘Hey I’m a federal agent, stop drop and put your damn hands up.’ “But I do prefer frigates, the occasional patrol boat.”

“So what brought you aboard the HMAS Carlton?” Rooster wasn’t expecting the answer you gave him. From time to time the Navy would accompany researchers and scientists to remote islands, he just assumed perhaps you were the latest one. But no.

“Uh, I’m here making sure that Clarence Diver who was stung by that group of Irukandji jellyfish was just that.” There were some suspicious toxins found in his bloodstream. “I’m Special Agent Y/n Gibbs with the NCIS.” Oh my fucking Christ Rooster was sure he was going into cardiac arrest. Why did you have to be NCIS? “Nice to meet you—“ Clearing your thirst as you paused in your stride. Sticking your hand out to shake the sailors hand who’d stopped to help you.

“Uh Bradley ma’am, Bradley Bradshaw.” Rooster stuck his hand out to meet yours. “Everyone calls me Rooster—“ You weren’t sure when Rooster had dropped your hand, or when you had started walking again. But you had. Side by side.

“Let me guess, you some kinda of cadet? A semen perhaps?” This was Rooster's first posting on a carrier. He was fresh out of the academy and had been abroad for six months. You had a glint in your eye, something worth exploring even though the idea of pursuing a Naval Criminal Investigation Agent scared the ever living Christ out of him.

“I uh—I fly an F-18 Agent Gibbs, I’m a Naval Aviator.” He was so proud of himself. I mean who else was around to be proud of him? So he had to be, for his own sanity. Stopping right in front of the door that read 507. “Guess this is where I leave you—“ news flash, it wasn't. Instantly smitten by the way you softly nodded in response. Pressing your lips together with a small frown.

“Yeah I guess it is huh?” Silence lingered for a moment as you worked up the courage to ask Rooster to hang around. Making up a totally fabricated but believable excuse he’d later find out was all so you could spend a little more time with him. “But now I’ve got no idea how to get back to the galley and I seem to have a pretty good tour guide.”

“Special Agent Gibbs, what on earth are you doing here?” Rooster taunted your official title as he slung his arm around your shoulders. Slumped over the bar as your eyes scanned the bar like a Hawk. “Heard you put Hangman in his place?”

“What the hell is a Hangman?” Your hand came up to grab Roosters softly, your thumb softly working to massage his palm. Turning your head to gently leave a subtle yet lingering kiss on his knuckles. “Oh wait—“ You remembered from conversations you’d had with Bradley in the past. “He’s the guy right, the super cocky one?” Clicking your fingers and squeezing your eyes tight as you tried to place a name to a call sign. “Jack, No—Jake!” Beaming, Bradley kissed your temple.

The sight of Bradshaw and you hitting it off so well sent Jake into a fit. Until he realised you must have been the girl Rooster had been talking about after the uranium mission. The one he wasn’t going to let get away.

“Woah look at you go detective, case closed in a whole minute.” Bradley taunted as he stood beside your barstool. “But seriously, as good as it is to see you here—you can’t be here for something good, it’s Friday baby—“ It was true. Usually wherever you ended up in the United States or on any US naval vessel didn’t usually come with good tidings. The Hard Deck in Miramar was no exception to that rule.

“You know that body that washed up about a week ago a few clicks up the beach?” You mumbled into the neck of your beer bottle as you brought it to your lips. Taking a small sip. “Intelligence believes the man responsible for that is here—and of course where else is there to go in Fraightertown but the most popular hang out point?”

“And you didn't bother to let me know you were coming?” Rooster teased as his hand slipped up your side, featherlike. Leaving goosebumps to rise in the wake of his fingertips. “Could’ve used the heads up.”

“Why? Need a change of pants, Lieutenant?’ It was the way you implied you so easily got Rooster where he needed to be that had his head spinning. You weren't wrong and he surely was feeling a little more restricted. But how could he not be when you were looking so fine. “Pretty sure I've got a pair of tracksuit pants in my carry on that might fit–might be pushing it though.” Winking as you took another sip of your beer. “Think they're grey even–” Roosters hand brushed against your hip. His eyes widened quickly at the realisation. Holy shit you were packing?

“You don’t have a gun in here do you?” Patting your shoulders, Bradley let his hands travel down your back, your gun Halsted. “Shit—you can’t bring a gun in here!!” Rooster's eyes bugged out of his head even more as he sat down beside you on the empty bar stool. “You gonna pepper the place or something? what the hell!” Guns always made Rooster a little uneasy and uncomfortable. But you were still caught up on his first statement.

“You know I’m a federal agent right?” Reminding your soon to be husband of your career choice. “I can bring a gun anywhere I damn please—“ Not that you would, but the idea that you could always did something weird to Rooster. Mentally and sexually.

“You scare the shit out of me.” He should have corrected himself, it wasn’t you that scared him. It was your damn job. Everyone he’d ever met had always told him what he did for a living had to be frightening. But you? Something about the way you so effortlessly did your job without a care in the world, blasé and effective? That scared Rooster. That was terrifying.

“Then leave me to do my job.” Rooster wrapped his leg around one of the legs of your bar stool. Dragging you closer to where he sat. He needed to be closer, needed you closer. “Rooster, honey—I’m in the middle of something here.” You played it off that Rooster was being an annoyance, but really? You loved the cat and mouse dynamic you always had. Loved him with all your heart.

“You got back up in here?” Bradley’s voice softened as his eyes trailed from your eyes to your lips and back to your eyes. Drinking in the sight of you. It was out of worry that he asked, a deep rooted concern for your well-being. “I’m not leaving this stool if you don’t have back up.”

“DiNozzo is by the jukebox.” Tilting your head Dinozzo’s way Bradley followed the direction you had pointed him in. A small wave of peace lapping at his heart. “I’m fine Roo, you don’t have to worry about me—“ You were about to mention the van out the front that held more agents, but Rooster didn't let you finish before he was interrupting.

“Doesn’t stop me though.” Rooster was quick to quip, leaning in closer to kiss your forehead as you ducked to hide your smirk. Cheeks heating with the love that flooded your system. “Worry about you all the time.”

You and Rooster had been together for a total of three weeks when he first got a real glimpse into just how dangerous your job could really be. How it so easily threatened to take you away from him. He’d been called to TopGun. An elite school for the top one percent of pilots. Its purpose was to teach the lost art of aerial combat and to ensure that the handful of men and women who graduated were the best fighter pilots in the world.

As Rooster went about his day, training exercise after the other—Admirial Bates was calling him down with urgency.

“Theres someone on the line for you calling from the Veterans affair’s medical centre—“ Rooster couldn’t place that hospital geographically until Warlock continued. “Seems as though your a registered emergency contact for a Y/n Gibbs?” Washington, that’s where the Veterans affairs hospital was.

“Uh—yeah.” Rooster couldn’t think straight. “I'm clear for landing?” He asked range control before he made any effort to turn around. With a confirmed green light Rooster headed in. He was in the administration building of the base in no time. His chest panting. A thin layer of sweat on his forehead. Panic rising to the surface as he held the phone to his ear.

“This is Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw—“

“Hi Bradley, I’m just calling to let you know we’ve had a miss Gibbs present to the emergency department with a bullet wound to her left thigh—“ Rooster swore he forgot how to breathe as his knuckles went white as the sheer hip he held around the phone. “She’s had to go in for surgery but we’re incredibly hopeful it’s a set standard procedure, just need to remove some of the shrapnel that broke apart.”

“Can you get her to call me when she’s out?” All he wanted to do was hear your voice. “Is she okay?” When did he start crying? Why were his cheeks wet? Blinking away the tears that still threatened to spill over his waterline.

“Absolutely—” The admin assistant chuckled to herself, remembering how reluctant you’d been. “She walked herself in very reluctantly.” Rooster rolled his eyes at the thought of you not taking care of yourself. Of fucking course you’d shug this off as no big deal. “An older man brought her in, signed as Anthony DiNozzo?” That checked out, he’d been your partner since you transferred to your dads division. “Shes in good spirits and good hands, should be out shortly–ill get her to give you abuzz when she's out and feeling a little less dazed.”

That's exactly what the nurse had done. Once you were feeling up to it you called Bradley from your cell. Sitting alone in your hospital room–they wanted to keep you in overnight for observation. You understood, but home just seemed like a much better place to be. Besides, you still had work to do.

“Are you alright? What the hell happened!?” Rooster bellowed into his phone as he sat on the bench in the locker room, he was just finishing up for the day.

“Hi baby, nice to hear your voice too–” You taunted with a slight groan as you tried to move your leg out from under the lightweight blanket. “Im fine, just need to work on my reflexes a little.”

“You were shot Y/n I think you need to work on more than your reflexes, perhaps your proximity to people who want to kill you?” Rooster didn't mean to snap at you, he was just worried. “Since when am I your emergency contact anyway? I thought it would have been your dad or something?”

“Well I mean if you don't wanna be I can change it?” Your tone had softened as you looked down at your leg, wondering how differently this conversation would have been going if that bullet had hit you somewhere else. Or if this conversation would be happening at all. “I just thought you might wanna be.”

“No I do–” Bradley paused for a moment as he swallowed the lump in his chest. “I just worry about you.” He knew that when he first met you you were only a rooky, that you'd get assigned mundane cases that weren't all that life threatening and serious. Like the Irukandji jellyfish guy who'd been doing drugs onboard the Carlton. But as the years went on and you gained more confidence and experience, the less and less you were assigned the meek role of crossing T’s and dotting i’s. You were a full blown field agent and until the moment Bradley Bradshaw got the call to say you'd been injured? He hadnt really put alot of thought into it. “I guess I just never really thought enough about how dangerous your job had become.”

“Says the one who's currently learning the art of aerial combat and defensive manoeuvres.” Yep, you had him there. Rooster knew his job was dangerous, he’d learnt to accept that a long time ago, as did you. Even when you had just been close friends you had to accept the fact Bradley might get deployed somewhere and not come home. But yours had kinda crept up on him. He’d never had to process that kind of worry before. Never knew how gut wrenching the feeling could be. He now knew what his mother had meant when the sick feeling just never really went away. The constant fear that lived rent free in the back of her mind about his dad, about him. “Listen Bradshaw, I'm fine– you don't gotta worry about me.”

“Doesn’t stop me though.” Rooster was quick to quip, leaning his back against his locker willing the moment he could wrap his arms around you to come sooner. He’s asked Admiral Bates for a compassionate leave of absence to go be with you. But he was told unless someone was dead or dying he could very much forget that he even asked. “I’ll worry about you all the time.”

“I can assure you, I know what I'm doing, Bradshaw.” Sitting back upright as you pulled away, finishing the rest of your beer in one final swig. “DiNozzo I can't quite speak on behalf of.” Your tone confused as your eyes followed the direction he was hastily walking, following a man across the length of the Hard Deck. Hot on his tail. His hand going to ghost his holster as he pushed past people who flocked in his way. “Oh fuck hang on–” Jumping to your feet in an instant as you watched the man DiNozzo had identified as Bodmin wrap his arm around the neck of one of the Naval Aviators sitting peacefully at one of the round tables. Rooster felt sick to his stomach as he stood, unable to comprehend what was going on. What had poor Bob done to be brought into this. Dragged to his feet as his hands came up to grasp the man's forearms. A gun to his temple quickly escalated the situation ten fold. “NCIS DROP YOUR WEAPON!!” Shouting as you drew your weapon from your hoster, holding it at eye height. “I said drop your weapon!!” Jake Seresin had been taken aback by only a few things in his life– this? Oh this took the goddamn cake. Bradshaw with an NCIS Agent? Never in a million years did he think that man had that kinda game.

“I DIDN'T KILL THAT MAN–” Bob swore he saw his life flash before his very eyes as he stood trapped between you and the man who had him by the next with the barrel of his gun pressing against his temple. Fear evident in his eyes. “I DIDN'T HAVE NOTHING TO DO WITH IT.” Well of course you did? Why else would you pull a gun out in the middle of a heavily populated bar and take a person hostage? Your inner thoughts didn’t match your next sentence, you needed to gain this guy's trust before there was brain matter splattered across the nice hardwood floor that probably had some historical value to it.

“That's great man, really–why don't we just have a bit of a chat about it, yeah?” Trying to deescalate the situation the best you could as you took a single step forward. Slowly and every so carefully. “I mean if you weren't involved you're pretty much a free man, why ruin that shooting this guy huh?” Rooster wanted to reach out and grab you. Stop you from getting any closer, fighter every fibre of his being that told him to protect you. His eyes welled with tears, mixing with fear and adrenaline as he turned his head slightly to where Hangman and Coyote stood in complete stillness—both trying just as hard as Rooster to comprehend the situation unfolding.

Shit like this didn’t happen at the fucking Hard Deck.

“I don’t fucking trust you!” You could very much tell this guy was losing his mind. Quickly. Making a rash decision to gain his trust immediately. Rooster watched from behind as you put your hands up in surrender. Your finger pushing the safety on your handgun before the clip fell to the ground.

“What about now?” Slowly but surely crouching as you placed the handgun on the ground, your eyes never for a second leaving Bob's eyes.

“Gibbs—“ DiNozzo gave you a warning look. Clearly unimpressed by your actions. Reckless and dangerous. Standing off to the right behind the man who had Bob hostage, his gun still drawn.

“I’m unarmed.” Standing just as slowly as you had crouched. Your hands came back to the height of your head. Palms facing the man. “Let’s talk, but first you gotta let him go—“

“Uh uh, not a chance sweetheart.” Damn. It was worth a shot right? The man, Daniel Bodmin had been identified as one of the men who’d been out finishing with marine Author Avery. He’d washed ashore five days after being reported missing when a storm hit off the coast of San Diago. It seemed pretty set standard until autopsy results came back that Avery had ingested five hundred grams of cocaine in small plastic bags. That mixed with the twenty four thousand dollars sim cash found stashed behind the backboard of one of the seats on the fishing boat made it suspiciously suspect Avery may have been killed. The smell of foul play in the air. “The second I don’t have leverage, you're partner here is gonna put a bullet in my spine.”

“I’m pretty tempted to just do it anyway—“ DiNozzo piped up as he eyes down the suspect. “I’m a pretty good shot.” It was your turn to send him the same warning look he’d given you. Your hands still up beside your head in surrender as you took another slow hesitant step forward. Rooster couldn’t breathe.

“Okay so I’ll make a trade, you let him go—and you take me. That way we can talk, just you and me. Outside.”

“NO!” Rooster shouted as he took a step towards you, his chest pressed against your back before you knew what was happening. “No way.”

“Lieutenant Bradshaw so help me god if you don’t step back this second I’ll have you arrested for interfering with a federal investigation.” It absolutely pained you to say but if Bradley wasn’t going to stand down you were going to make him one way or the other. “Go stand with Jake—“

“Y/n don’t do this!“ Leaning over your shoulder to whisper through gritted teeth, Bradley begged you, the love of his life—not to do this. “I can’t lose you too.”

“I will cuff you to the pool table if I have to—“ It was tough love, sure. But you needed to do your damn job before Bob or anyone else for that matter got hurt. “Go, now.” The tone you used had gone to a new level of seriousness, you weren’t messing around. If need be, you’d cuff Bradley Bradshaw to that pool table and leave him there if that meant he was out of your way. If it meant you could do your damn job.

With hesitance and his tail between his legs, Rooster backed away slowly. Eyeing off the man who had Bob by the next and a gun pressed to his temple. There would surely be an indent by the time he was let go. Hands up surrender style—Rooster made his way over to where Hangman and Coyote stood dumbfounded.

“Are your eyes glued to your head or some shit man?” Javy hissed as Rooster stood beside him. “The fuck is wrong with you!?”

“She’s the love of my life, man.” You couldn’t blame Rooster for acting in your defence. It was in his inherent nature to protect the ones he loved so deeply, tenderly and oh so fiercely. “My whole god damn world.” He’d never been so scared to lose you before this very moment. The fallout of the uranium mission had him racing across the west coast of the country all the way to Washington where you were based. Knowing he came an inch to losing his life. Far too many times to count. On the way back Rooster had confided in Hangman for a brief moment. Mentioning that there had been a girl, a girl so fierce and loving and kind that he couldn't help but to wonder how you'd mourn him. He didn't mention specific things like how long you’d know each other or how long you two had been dating. Rooster didn't mention what you did for work or even how he’d had his mothers engagement ring resized off another ring he’d stolen from your jewellery stand.

Rooster had simply told Jake Seresin that for a moment there if he hadn’t come after him and Pete? There would have been a heartbroken soul at his funeral. A woman so willing to pray for him, take his pain for him, save his soul from himself. Bradley Bradshaw had always been the one left behind, but that day he almost left you. And he wasn't ready to do that without having made it one thousand percent clear that you were the love of his life. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with you.

“Bradley? What–what are you doing here?” You questioned as he came through your front door. The key you'd gifted him nestled nicely in between all his other keys. Standing from your stop on the lounge–Youd been curled up watching Criminal Minds. “I thought you weren't supposed to be home for a few more days?” Taking massive strides to get to you Bradly simply engulfed you in a warm embrace. Hugging you so tightly because there were a few moments there he thought he'd never get to hug you again. Smell your hair, feel how cold you ran against his usually hot self.

“I couldn't wait to see you for one more second.” You could hear it in his voice, fuck. Something had happened, hadn't it. But more importantly you could see it in his eyes as he pulled away to meet your gaze in the dimly lit living room or your modest two bedroom two bathroom townhouse. Big enough for you and big enough for Bradley Bradshaw. With a little extra room for a guest here and there. “As soon as I was dismissed I jumped in the Bronco and headed straight for the airport.”

“That's a pretty long flight –” You were trying to get a read on the situation. What makes a man drive almost the entire West Coast of the United States so pressingly? What on earth was going on inside his head. “Do you want a coffee or something? I can make you a fresh pot?”

“Uh yeah that would be nice.” Bradley replied softly as he brought your forehead to his lips by pressing the palm of his hand to the back of your head. Letting you go as you wondered your way into the kitchen. The kettle already empty and waiting to be filled.

Rooster couldn't wait another second, he had to ask. Following you as he fished the small black velvet box that held his mothers engagement ring out of his pocket. Opening it and he stood behind you. Your hips pressing against the lip of the kitchen bench as you filled the kettle with a soft smile on your face. Bradley's hand came to lean against the countertop as he kissed your neck softly. Peppering small butterfly-like kisses up and down the juncture of your neck and shoulder.

“What do you think you're playing at?” Taunting the naval aviator who you’d missed so dearly as you turned around, leaning against the countertop as you held the kettle now full of water. It wasn't long before it had found its new home on the tiles. Water cascading across the gloss white flooring. Your hands coming up to cup your mouth. Jaw hung slack as a gasp escaped. Eyes wide with pure shock as Bradley Bradshaw trapped you against the countertop and himself. Holding the open velvet box in his hand with a soft smile and watery eyes. “Brad–”

“I almost didn't come home this time.” It was a sentence you never wanted to hear but were still thankful enough to hear him say it. It was and would always be better than the alternative. The home calls all military men and women dreaded. The one where officials inform you of a loss. “And it made me realise that I now have someone to leave behind.”

“Bradley–” You tried to speak as you cupped his cheeks. Pressing your forehead against his as you stood on the tips of your toes to meet his lips.

“Marry me Y/n, marry me.” It was a question you didn't need to ponder or consider saying anything but yes to immediately. Watching as Bradley dropped down to one knee before you. Following him down. “I love you so much and I just–Ican't stand the thought of not having you in my life for whatever time I have here.” It was the honest truth of the matter. “And I want you all to myself, as my wife, my best friend.

“Yes.” It was all you said before you crashed into him. Your arms wrapping around his neck as you both fell to the floor, rooster on his back in the mess of water as you fell atop him. Melting together as your tongues danced and hands roamed. “I love you so much more.”

“Do we have a deal?” Your voice brought Rooster back into the room. His eyes trained on you as you kept your hands up and your eyes on bob. He looked like he was keeping it together. But you knew from experience the second he was let go he could react in all kinds of ways. You'd seen it all. “I said do we have a deal?” You weren't in the mood for this, to play silly games with peoples lives. “Bodmin!”

“Yes yes we have a deal!” He shouted. Accepting your proposal for a trade off. your self for Bob. Slowly making your way over to him, you took Bob's hand in yours. He was shaking something chronic. He’d been in situations where life and death seemed not too far apart but this? He’d never be able to forget the feeling of having his life threatened by another person.

“Floyd?” You said Bob’s last name allowed, committing the name that was proudly displayed on his name badge to memory. “Got a first name?” You vaguely remembered, it was something that started with a B. Bradley had mentioned so many people it was hard to keep track sometimes.

“Bob–” huh, You finally had a face to go with the stories Bradley had told you late at night in the kitchen. One in particular coming to mind, the bird strike. “Robert.”

“Well Bob, today's your lucky day.” You were sure to take your time as the man released Bob from his grasp, pulling Bob towards you step by step. “If you call being held hostage lucky–”

“You don't have to do this, you know.” Bob whispered as you turned around, it was now you who had your back to Bodmin. With a gentle smile you let his hands drop. The barrel of the gun that had once been held to Bob’s temple now pressing against the small of your back. “You don't have to risk your life for me–”

“It's kinda my job.” That was all you really had time to say before you were being marched towards the front door of the Hard Deck. Rooster sent DiNozzo a look as if to ask what the hell was he doing just letting you play self sacrificing damsel. DiNozzo just shrugged, his gun still drawn and locked onto Bodmin's back from across the room. “How do you wanna do this Dan? You gonna shoot a lady in the back? You know thats considered murder right?” It was now that you were getting Daniel right where you needed him to be that you started playing mind games. “If you’re already going down for the murder of Avery you may as well go two for two right?” DiNozzo could hear everything you were saying through his ear piece. When he got the chance? He was gonna slap the god damn shit out of the back of your head for being so undeniably reckless. “You killed him for the money didn't you? You just didn't know where he’d stashed it. So you panicked.”

“What happened to innocent until proven guilty huh?”

“You held a gun to a naval aviator's head–you’re as good as done.”

“Shut up before I put a goddamn bullet in you–” Shoving you out the front door was probably the dumbest thing Daniel Bodmin could have done. Because as you stepped out onto the front deck of the Hard Deck bar? A few dozen of your agents had him surrounded. Within milliseconds.

Bradley's heart fell out his arse when he heard a single gunshot come from outside. Shouting from all over the place ensued as he ran to where he’d last seen you, right out the front door.

“Y/n!!” He was expecting the worst, to see you lying on the ground with a bullet between your eyes. But that's not what he saw. Far from it actually. Special Agent DiNozzo was hot on Rooster's tail. Fuck. This couldn't be happening, this was meant to be a routine god damn op.

To both men's surprise, you had your knee pressed into Daniel Bodmin's back. He was face down on the deck with his hands cuffed behind his back, his gun discarded. Looking up at Rooster with a smirk evident on your face as Daniel squired under the pressure you were forcing him down with.

“Hi fellas.” You beamed like nothing unorthodox had just taken place. “DiNozzo, what the hell took you so long man–?”

“I was trying to listen to what everyone on comms was saying but it got all jumbled.” DiNozzo explained as he holstered his gun. Leaning down to take over the apprehension of Daniel Bodmin. “All I heard was gett him outside then you started going all awol of me like some suicidal maniac.” Pulling the now detained suspect to his feet. “When we get back to Quantico you best believe Gibbs is gonna be pissed.”

“When is he ever not?” You replied with a sigh. Turning your attention to Rooster who stood off to the side. The entire squad looking out the windows, peeping eyes looking over the windowsills to catch a glimpse of the action happening outside. This had been the most exhilarating situation the Hard Deck Bar had ever seen. Penny swore she was about ready to sell the damn place. “I'm sorry I threatened to arrest you, you know I wou–” before you could finish your sentence Bradley’s hands were clasping your cheeks. Pulling you against him as he kissed you with so much love and admiration you could taste it.

“I’ve never been so fucking worried about you—“ Roosted kissed you deeper this time, he knew what he was playing at as well. The whole ‘let me kiss her so she can’t speak’ shtick. Only pulling away with enough time so he could. “You’ve told me this stuff seems so normal to you but I want you to know it’s not—it’s beyond dangerous and I can't believe how easily you put down your weapon.” Rooster was projecting his own insecurities about your job onto you. Placing your hand over your lips as he came back to kiss you. Colliding with your open palm.

“You have a medallion sitting over our fireplace because you defied direct orders and single handedly flew into enemy territory knowing damn well you didn't have the ammunition to fight back–all to save the lives of others.” Yep. You had him with that one. “What is the difference here? Spot it and I'll give you five bucks Bradshaw–” Rooster just pulled you into his chest. His arms wrapping around your shoulders, his chin resting on the top of your head. Looking out as the sun set lower and slower on the horizon.

“I guess there isn't much in it.”

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

Twenty minutes. That how much time had passed since Rooster saw you held at gun point, since he saw Bob held at gunpoint. It was standard protocol, you had Bob sitting at a nearby picnic table outside of the Hard Deck taking a witness statement.

“And you’re sure you’re alright? You don’t feel like you need to get checked out or anything?” You had your windbreaker one. The dark blue oversized jacket that proudly displayed NCIS on the back.

“No ma’am, thanks to you I’m in one peice.” You smiled softly at him, honestly you were just doing your job. “I didn’t know Rooster had a fiancée—“ You closed your little notepad before pocketing it in the back of your jean pocket. “Wish we’d met under different circumstances.”

“It is a little unorthodox isn’t it.” You chuckled, tapping Bob in the shoulder before making your way over to Rooster. He’d been watching you like a Hawk as you did your thing. Told people where to go and who to talk to, lead the investigation as NCIS agents went in and out of the Hard Deck. Talking to other witnesses for as many recollections as possible to aid the prosecution. “I’m thinking of staying until Tuesday if you feel like some company?” You mentioned as you approached Bradley, he stool with his arms crossed over his chest. Just admiring you from a far. He never really got the chance to watch you work. “If not I can always get a room at the motel down the road.”

“Well I usually don’t bring in strays—“ Taunting you as you bumped your hip against your finance’s playfully, your tongue sticking out against the inner part of your cheek as his smart ass comment. “But I’m sure I can make an exception.” You and Bradley had spoken a few times about the possibility of maybe buying a house in Freightertown now that he was there on more of a permanent basis. You’d keep the rental in Washington for convenience—but the idea would eventually see you come to San Diago as well. “You can’t get mad about the dishes piled as high as Everest in the sink though.”

“I’m not gonna say a word—“ Rooster swore he saw your nose grow an inch longer. He knew you’d say something about the mess, he’d let it get a little out of hand this week. He’d been starting early and finishing late—leaving little time for upkeep on the day to day basics.

“Agent Gibbs?” One of your Agents approached you followed by two men you’d never seen before in your life. “This is officer Radavic and Wilcox—NSA.”

“What’s NSA want with our case?” You questioned and the men showed you their badges and credentials. Rooster didn’t know if he should leave or stay. Choosing to stay as you crossed your arms across your chest.

“Daniel Bodmin was a foreign national with information considered a threat to the United States of America.” You couldn't believe what you were hearing. This entire case had been blown way out of the realm of what you originally thought it to be. “We figured we’d jump in, take things off your hands.” With a scoff and a small laugh you shook your head. Kicking your heel in the rough gravel underneath your shoe.

“This case is NCIS jurisdiction–regardless if Bodmin is of interest to NSA—“ Something was off, way off. If NSA was interested they would have made contact way before now. And they’d use the proper channels to do so, not just show up in Miramar unannounced. Perhaps you were too much like your father, or maybe you just didn’t believe the story from the get go.

“Well, I personally believe it would be in the best interest of the Naval Criminal Investigative Service to work with us, after all? We are on the same side.” Yeah, no. There was something incredibly off about these two. “Have you been able to find anything on–” Before the supposed NSA Agent had the chance to finish his sentence you were sending your shine directly between his legs. Pulling his shoulders forward into you as you did so. Immediately he went down like a sack of shit, groaning as his partner went at Rooster. Not knowing he wasn't NCIS.

“Hey woah what the–!” Rooster was pretty quick on the draw, you'd give your soon to be husband that. He didn't need your help when it came to defending himself. His knuckles would surely be bruised up slightly after he was done and the other agent was on the ground. “What are you doing! You heard the guy? You're on the same team?” Roosters eyes were as wide as saucers as he turned back to you, fixing his shirt after having laid the other agent on his ass. Unconscious.

“Im pretty sure he's not NSA–” Bending over to retrieve both their weapons as a few agents rushed to the scene. Taking them into custody.

“Pretty sure!?” Bradley shouted through gritted teeth. “Because you teed off on him like you were kicking a field goal!”

“Rooster, I've got a hunch they're working with Bodmin alright, they might be foreign oppritives—just slow your roll there.” Trying to calm your fiancé down as you dusted him off. Sand everywhere.

“Oh my gosh! Y/n, sweetheart, baby girl no you don't just kick a guy in the junk on a hunch–“ Rooster groaned as he held his stomach. “Gees, sometimes I don't even know you, who does that?” You shrugged it off with a chuckle, intertwining your arm with Roosters as yiu walked back into the Hard Deck—all eyes on you as you looked up. A good set of twelve eyes all locked onto you. “Uh, I think this might be a good time to introduce you to my colleagues here.” Rooster mumbled as he kissed the top of your head. Nodding in response you waved at everyone who just stood stunned, still processing what had happened earlier.

“You must be colleagues huh?”

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

“So how’d you know they were bogus?” You’d all been sitting around the pool table. You’d noticed pretty quickly just how close Bob had stayed to the side of the women who’d come racing to the Hard Deck not ten minutes after you’d placed Bodmin under arrest. When Bradley had introduced you she’d pulled you in for a hug, said thank you for saving Bob's life and told you her name was Nat.

“Theyre accents–” You replied to Coyote who just shook his head in disbelief. God you were cool. How on earth did Rooster manage to find a girl like you?

“Nope, they didn't have accents.” Rooster saw how everyone was looking at you like you were the coolest person they’d ever encountered. Flying high he decided to shoot you down for his own enjoyment. Bring you back down to earth where he and the commoners lived. Standing between Bradley legs as he sat on one of the barstools with your back against his chest. You turned as his arms came down from their home on your shoulders. His hands lingering on your hips.

“Rooster, sweetheart, baby boy.” You teased, knowing exactly what he was doing. “Do you know the difference between French open syllabic organisation and English archaic speech patterning?” Giving him a taste of his own medicine. He didn’t respond—simply smirking as he took a sip of his beer. Eyes never leaving yours. Fucking smart arse.

“What that old chestnut?” Hangman mumbled as he smirked into the beer bottle he held to his lips. The whole crew minus Bob were indulging in a few too many alcoholic beverages. “Nah, what the hell even is that?” Fuck—Rooster could count his lucky stars with you that was for damn sure. “They probably have some diplomatic unity or some bullshit.”

“That's exactly why we threw em in county.” A familiar voice entered the chat. “They’ll be lucky to even get a phone call by christmas. '' DiNozzo snickered as he picked up a handful of the peanuts sitting in a bowl on the edge of the pool table. Looking at him so disappointed and puzzled as to where he’d gone this whole time– He shot you a questioning look back. “What? What's that look for?”

“Where the hell have you been—?” It was a legitimate question you wanted an answer to. DiNozzo just frowned as he took the handful of nuts into his mouth.

“Escorting our perp into county, why? what did I miss?” Looking around, no one wanted to give him an answer. “I'm pretty sure we’re good here don't you think? Besides, I’m gonna head back to the motel and get a good rest in before giving our two NSA impersonators the old razzle dazzle tomorrow–” Bradley chuckled to himself as you lent back to him. His chin resting on your shoulder.

“Just don't let Agent Bradshaw here interrogate them.” You would soon have to get used to that. Special Agent Bradshaw. It sounded funny but in the best of ways. Like a new house. Sure it felt foregin at first but soon it would become a home. Rolling your eyes as you sighed dramatically.

“Why is that?” DiNozzo questioned with squinted eyes. “What did you do–?”

“She kicked one of the guys right in the non day plumes!” Bradley scoffed over your shoulder, feeling you pull away in defeat as you stood with your arms crossed, sending him a glare– telling him to get over it already. God you loved him. So much.

“No–” Anthony played into it. Holding his hands together to cover his crotch. “She didn’t–”

“Yep–Guy didn't even have his weapon out.” You couldn't believe how big of a deal Bradley was making out of this.

“Really!?” DiNozzo was flabbergasted. “Gibbs, that's just outright assault.” You didn't know who to stare at more, Anthony or Bradley as the group watched on with laughter and smirks.

“Mmhmm, right in the cul de sac, kicked him so hard it gave me a stomach ache.” Okay this was getting out of hand.

“So what!” Throwing your hands up in defeat. “Would it have been better if I pistol whipped him across the face?”

“YES!!” Every single man you stood with said allowed in unison. You couldn't believe it. Even Natasha rollered her eyes.

“I'd rather be held at gun point–” Bob pipped up as Phoenix softly slapped him in the chest with the back of her hand. The group couldn't help but to laugh, settling in soon after into their own conversations as you said bye to DiNozzo and turned all of your attention back to Rooster.

“You done?” Questioning his childishness you glared at him yet again with a soft smirk. “Or should I get that hotel room after all?”

“Oh No–” Bradley Bradshaw had never jumped from his seat so fast in his life. Finishing his beer as he did so. “No you're coming home with me.” kissing your cheek as he whispered in your ear. “I specifically remember you mentioning handcuffs and I don't know about you but I'm keen to play cops and robbers.”

Would you like to read more of NCIS Bradley? The series Masterlist is linked here

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Tags: @auroraboreallisfine @tigerfan24 @atarmychick007

#top gun bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster x f!reader #ncis imagine #top gun fandom #bradley bradshaw one shot #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction

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say-al0e · 10 months

Text

Home Run

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Bradley Bradshaw has been your friend for years, a constant in an ever-evolving life. You’ve always harbored a small crush on him. All it takes is one night to change everything. | Ft. “Are we on a date right now?” requested by @xlostinobsessionsx and “Don’t mind me, I’m just enjoying the view,” “You’re getting shy on me now? Really?,” and “Kiss me. Like you mean it.” requested by Anon.

Warnings: Baseball, mentions of anxiety, mentions of deployment, mention of parent death (Goose is mentioned but it’s blink and you miss it), mentions of family issues. I think that’s it but let me know if you see anything else!

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x fem!Reader (call sign Angel)

Word Count: 9k (......sorry)

Top Gun Taglist | Top Gun Masterlist

“What are you doing Saturday?”

Bradley Bradshaw sank into one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs opposite your desk, coffee in either hand as he spared you an expectant glance. Though he shouldn’t have looked so comfortable, at home amongst the stark white of the medical office, he’d become a near permanent fixture since returning to Top Gun.

Years had passed, several of which with only sporadic contact shared, but Bradley had barreled back into your life as if it had only been a matter of days. With the aviators he wore so often hooked into the collar of his undershirt and cheeks tinted pink from the California sun, you could almost believe it - convince yourself that you were the same twenty-somethings you’d once been - as you lifted your eyes to meet his.

“Good morning, Bradley. I’m doing fine, how are you? Gee, the weather sure is nice, though I heard it might rain,” you drawled, tone decidedly unimpressed as you glanced away from your chart to fix him with the blandest look you could muster. The lack of greeting was something he found himself guilty of often - it was nothing for him to drop into a conversation without preamble, leaving you scrambling to catch up - and you had a habit of calling him on it. However, when you were met with little more than raised brows, you allowed yourself a quiet laugh. “Manners, Bradshaw. What, were you raised in a barn?”

“I was raised in Virginia,” he reminded you, shrugging as he did so. “And spent four years in a fraternity. So, do with that what you will.” It took a great deal of effort to conceal your laughter, despite your amusement being his ultimate goal, as he swallowed his own with a sip of coffee. “Anyway,” he redirected, look pointed, “Saturday. Plans?”

With a sigh, you exchanged the pen in your hand for the coffee he slid across the desk - only slightly awed he still remembered your order - and provided Bradley with your full attention. It was clear he was a man on a mission, unbothered by the limited time to waste until training, and wouldn’t leave until he had an answer. So, you settled into your chair.

“Nope. I’m free.” It was clear that he had something in mind, an adventure of some sort he deemed you worthy of joining, but weeks had passed since you last spent quality time together. It wasn’t uncommon but you wanted to tease him, make him spell it out, so you hummed thoughtfully. “Nat’s sister is in town, Bob’s back home on leave, Mickey’s binging Star Trek in chronological order - which I’ve already done -, and Jake’s, well, Jake. So, I figured I’d just go to the beach or something. Why?”

Bradley frowned, an unexpected twinge of something akin to hurt clouding his otherwise bright eyes, as he lifted his own coffee. “I’m not on that list,” he pointed out, brows furrowing as he fixed you with a look you’d been on the receiving end of far too many times. “Why?”

The reaction was a little more serious than you were expecting and it was your turn to frown. One glance at Bradley told you that his inquiry, while uttered as teasingly as he could muster so early in the morning, was genuine. A brief flash of hurt crossed his face, darkened his eyes for a split second, before he hid his frown behind a sip of coffee.

A small pang of guilt needled at your skin. Though you’d meant it to be teasing, a joke, you never thought Bradley would take it as anything else.

“I just figured you’d be with Mav again,” you explained, only a little guilty. It was accompanied by an uncertain shrug as you stirred your coffee, though you knew Bradley could tell how bad you felt. “You’ve been with him the last few weekends and I didn’t want to interrupt the bonding.” When Bradley made a face, brows furrowing as he attempted to recount exactly how much time he’d been spending with Maverick - and when you last spent time together - you laughed quietly. “I think it’s nice, Roo,” you insisted, shooting him what you hoped to be a reassuring smile. “I’m glad you’re getting along. And now that we’re stationed together again, we can hang out whenever. It’s not a big deal.”

“That’s very thoughtful and I appreciate it,” he declared, slipping his foot under the gap in your desk to nudge yours, “but call me out when I get distant. You’re important to me.”

Though your entire body grew warm at the weight of his declaration - the sincerity with which he spoke, the earnest look in his eyes, the soft gravel of his voice - you swallowed the butterflies threatening to escape and shook your head.

Bradley Bradshaw was one of your closest friends and had been a part of your life for much of your adulthood. You’d seen him at his best - and at his worst - and knew what it meant to love him. He had a tendency to leave a trail of broken hearts in his wake, unintentionally as he’d always been charismatic yet emotionally unavailable, and you’d spent the last ten years determined not to be one.

Instead of allowing yourself to dwell on the feelings you’d realized last time you were stationed together, the feelings you’d spent years questioning and rationalizing and compartmentalizing; instead of allowing yourself to dwell on the warmth, then the chill of realization that he couldn’t mean that in the way you so desperately hoped, you shook your head.

“There’s a difference between being distant and making up for lost time, Roo.”

Bradley waved a hand, dismissing the idea even as his gaze dropped to the cup in his hands for a moment. “Anyway,” he redirected, lifting his gaze once more after a moment of silence. “There’s this new place downtown. It’s a bar but it’s got an arcade, go-karts, mini-golf; all kinds of shit.” He paused, for dramatic effect, you were sure - he’d been spending too much time with Fanboy, you decided, though you managed to keep from rolling your eyes. “There’s also a batting cage.”

The foundation of your friendship with Bradley was built on a handful of shared interests and experiences. You’d both had difficult upbringings, marred by tragedy, and both went to a traditional university rather than the Naval Academy. And, in the pursuit of your degrees, both spent years as student athletes. So, if the grin threatening to lift the corners of his mouth was anything to go by, Bradley knew he had you with the mention of the batting cage.

“Yeah, I heard about it. Fritz took his girlfriend there last weekend. She said it was nice.” Even before her confirmation, you’d seen it online and placed it on a list of ‘to-visit’ spots. There was no question that Bradley would be the perfect companion to enjoy all the bar had to offer but you continued to play coy. “Apparently, they’re working with that brewery, that one with the nice taproom we went to a few months ago.”

For a brief moment, silence settled over the corner of the medical office you called yours. Bradley waited, just until you returned your gaze to his, before raising a brow at you. “You’re going to make me ask, aren’t you?” His amusement was obvious, laughter badly hidden behind his coffee cup as he awaited your confirmation, but he wasted no time giving in to you. “Do you want to go with me, check it out?”

“It’s only fair, since you’ve been avoiding me.” The unamused look Bradley shot you nearly made you break, laughter bubbling in your through - regardless of the pang of guilt you felt earlier, you knew he wouldn’t take offense - but you bit your tongue and nodded. “Yeah, alright. S’long as you don’t pout when I embarrass you at the batting cage.”

A scoff left his lips as he stood from his seat, mission accomplished and ready to finally begin his day. “We were both pitchers, Angel,” he reminded you, rolling his eyes as he gathered his coffee and waited for you to do the same. “Neither of us can bat for shit.”

“Hey, speak for yourself, Bradshaw.” You followed his lead, gathering the items necessary for you to begin your rounds, as you offered him a saccharine smile. “I was a cleanup hitter.”

The word ‘bullshit,’ disguised with a purposefully awful cough escaped Bradley’s lips. When you rolled your eyes, amused at his disbelief, he laughed. “Seriously?”

“Dead serious. I swear I’ve told you this before, but look up my stats, frat boy,” you implored him, not bothering to hide your laughter as you rounded the desk and headed for the door with him close behind. “You were day drinking and I was in a batting cage. We were not the same.”

Silence settled for a moment, broken by the sounds of the medical staff beginning their morning shift, as you ambled down the hall with Bradley close by. Finally, after a beat, he hummed thoughtfully.

“Guess we’ll see on Saturday, then.” He brushed past you to hold the door, body close enough for the scent of his cologne to overpower the antiseptic and cloud your thoughts, and you felt your breath hitch in your throat as he glanced down at you. Still, you swallowed the butterflies beginning to swarm in your stomach as he proposed, “Fewest hits buys dinner?”

“I’m an expensive date, Bradshaw.” The taunt was nowhere near as strong as you intended, nowhere near as sharp, but if Bradley noticed, he didn’t say anything. Instead, he simply shrugged as you both paused just shy of the exit.

“So am I, Angel.”

Then, for just a moment, Bradley studied you. Those warm brown eyes raked over your skin, rapidly heating from the weight of his attention, as that amused grin never faltered. His eyes, however, softened considerably as you blinked at him. There seemed to be something on the tip of his tongue, some witty quip that would make you laugh, but before he could speak, the door opened and a handful of nurses streamed into the hallway.

The group, who you knew well and worked with daily, all bid you both a good morning - though you could see from their not-so-discreet stares that you’d be answering questions about your relationship, or lack thereof, with Bradley later on - and the moment was broken.

Bradley spared a glance at his watch, seemed to realize the time, and reached for the door. “I’ll see you Saturday.” And with that, he stepped outside, off in the direction of the hangar, leaving you to shake your head.

Spending time with Bradley was something you’d always adored, regardless of what it meant and where you ended up - whether it was at the Hard Deck, surrounded by the group of pilots you’d been accepted into without question, or out on the beach, alone as you watched the waves roll in. Though you had a tendency to tease, to give him a hard time, you were glad to accept any invitation to make up for lost time.

And while plans made at the beginning of the week always seemed so far away, especially plans made with Bradley, Saturday seemed to roll around far quicker than you expected.

Between new students - some losing the battle against the California sun, others losing the battle against a bottle of tequila - and yearly appointments all seeming to fall within the same few day span, you barely had time to breathe, let alone think about your weekend plans. Bradley was also kept busy, pulled in one direction or another as he prepared for yet another special mission, and your paths only crossed briefly throughout the week.

Though communication was limited - only a handful of words shared in passing, along with a text or two to confirm plans hadn’t changed - Bradley still arrived at your place at six on the dot.

Bradley made it halfway up the sidewalk, ready to knock at your door and greet you with a grin - some witty quip on his lips about how nice you cleanup - before you stepped out onto the small stoop with a bright grin of your own.

“Ya know, I was kind of expecting you to be fashionably late, Roo.”

While he’d never been late for work - Bradley understood the importance of time management, valued his job and wanted to make a positive impression on his superiors - he had a habit of making a grand entrance elsewhere. Most nights, he sauntered into the Hard Deck fifteen minutes after everyone else, dressed in a gaudy Hawaiian shirt and blue jeans that always hugged his thighs just right. He nearly always showed up to Sunday brunch with a hangover, twenty minutes after the agreed upon time, and already nursing a hangover.

But the thing about Bradley’s habitual lateness; he’d never been late for you.

If you made plans, agreed to spend quality time together without the rest of the Daggers, he made it a point to show up. Hungover, exhausted, burnt out from a long week - it never seemed to matter. Bradley had never left you hanging and you’d long since stopped wondering when that day would come. Instead, you thanked your lucky stars that Bradley Bradshaw deemed you worthy of his time and attention and grinned at him as you approached the Bronco.

Bradley caught the teasing lilt to your voice immediately, saw the glittering amusement in your eyes, and laughed himself as he shook his head. “I figured I got lucky enough getting you to hang out with me. Didn’t want to push it by being late.”

“Very thoughtful.” In true Bradley fashion, he opened the Bronco door for you, aviators slipping down the bridge of his nose as he took in the outfit - casual, but still nicer than anything you’d wear to the Hard Deck - you wore. You ignored the warmth creeping up your chest at the weight of his gaze, swallowed it in hopes of drowning the butterflies fluttering in the pit of your stomach, as you shook your head. “And chivalrous, too! It’s a wonder you’re so painfully single, Bradshaw.”

The roll of his eyes was playful, unbothered by the teasing jab at his relationship status - something that had become a running joke among the Daggers by this point, anyway - as he rounded the Bronco to join you. “It’s the emotional unavailability,” he defended, shrugging as he turned on the vehicle. “Or something like that.”

“At least you’re self-aware. That counts for something, I think.”

Occasionally, you wondered if the jabs at Bradley’s lack of a love life - or, rather, lack of a committed love life, lack of a steady love life, as he’d had his fair share of flings over the years, though they’d slowed to a complete stop since his return to Top Gun - ever bothered him.

Jake started it all a few months after the Daggers’ friendship became real, shortly after that first mission ended. He made some stupid joke about Bradley’s lack of commitment after he found himself committed to a pretty bartender and it was true enough. Bradley hadn’t had a steady partner in years, not one that he deemed worthy of introducing to his friends, anyway, and you all took turns playing armchair therapist to rationalize why.

Still, Bradley seemed to take it all in stride.

As he always seemed to, Bradley shook his head and laughed quietly as he pulled away from the curb. Instead of arguing, carrying on with the bit as he sometimes did, the conversation fell into a natural lull as he allowed his usual playlist - comprised of eighties throwbacks and the occasional song from his days as a frat boy - to fill the cab of the Bronco.

While it should’ve been uncomfortable, silence with Bradley never was. Even in the beginning of your friendship, back when you were both bright-eyed and overwhelmed with the seemingly endless possibilities your futures seemed to hold, Bradley was was comfortable. And even back then, when your heart seemed to skip a beat every time he smiled at you - every time you were certain your skin would remain permanently on fire, every time you were certain your giddy laughter would give you away - it was always easy.

No matter how much time seemed to pass, no matter how many miles separated you, Bradley had always been a constant. And it seemed that no matter where in the world you found yourselves, when you reunited, there was an overwhelming feeling of returning home.

When you stopped to think about it, that comfort - that feeling of home, that stability - was what kept you from risking your friendship with Bradley.

Though you’d harbored an ever-growing, seemingly never fading, crush on him since the day you met, pushing for anything more came with a risk of losing him for good. Acting on those feelings, acknowledging them outside the confines of your own thoughts, meant risking everything you’d built.

The friendship you shared survived distance, months spent oceans apart; it survived seemingly endless stretches of time with limited communication; it survived deployments, periods of discomfort, moments of doubt, and everything in between because there was no pressure.

With Bradley, there were never any expectations.

Bradley had always been comfortable because with him, you felt the freedom to just exist. He never expected you to be anything other than yourself, accepted you for the person that you were, and saw the beauty in that. He never judged you for saying the wrong thing or having a bad day, never thought less of you for needing a shoulder to lean on. He never made you feel less than.

There was never a fear of fucking it all up but you knew the moment you crossed that line, the moment you allowed yourself to give in and fall completely in love with Bradley Bradshaw, you were opening yourself up for a heartbreak you’d only had nightmares of.

Before you could spiral further, fall into a pit of despair so deep it would take the rest of the weekend to climb out of, Bradley’s voice cut through the din inside your head. That voice, rasp a balm for your suddenly aching chest, rang in your ears as he declared, “Hate to interrupt your attempt to solve all the world’s problems, but we’re here.”

A cursory glance out the window confirmed his statement and you blinked as you took in the sheer size of it all. “Fritz really undersold this place,” you said, sparing Bradley a quick glance before eying the packed parking lot. “It’s massive.”

“I don’t know what I was expecting but I don’t think it was this.”

A hum of agreement was all that seemed necessary and even that was lost to the ether as Bradley parked and shut off the engine. While you were entranced by all the bar offered, eyes wide as you scanned the patio just to the side, he was quick to round the Bronco and open the door for you. He grinned when you shot him a look, eyes sparkling with a sort of mischief as he awaited your teasing comment about chivalry, but you both remained quiet for a moment as you crossed the parking lot.

The bar itself looked like something plucked from your fondest childhood memories; a clash of past and present with an arcade facade, a mini-golf course, batting cages, and a go-kart track out back, all accompanied by a few bars scattered around, and you were struck by a sudden wave of nostalgia as gravel crunched beneath your feet.

Bradley seemed to be, too, as he gestured to the course with a grin. “I think every mini-golf place I ever went to growing up had one of those bridges.” He pointed to an awkward length bridge, covering the short distance between holes split by a trickle of water meant to represent a river, and you laughed.

“At least they’re useful.” At that moment, a small group climbed single file over the bridge - when they could’ve easily just stepped over - and you hummed. “Well, sort of. All the ones on the Gulf Coast have random alligators.” Bradley’s laughter was cut short as he raised a brow, question of whether you meant real alligators or statues - or maybe both - but you only shrugged.

Though you hadn’t been stationed together in years, you’d kept up with one another. Any time you moved, packed it all up and traded this coast for that one, you shared the details with one another. Bradley had been sent photos from Florida - pictures of alligators and Disney and stormy beaches - while you were sent photos from Virginia and, after the fact, the middle of the ocean.

The only time either of you kept your relocation a secret was his initial return to Fightertown as it came after yours and he’d wanted to surprise you.

That line of conversation and the following contemplative silence didn’t last very long as Bradley spared you a glance. “What were you thinking so hard about on the drive? Thought I saw smoke coming out of your ears.”

Bradley was often direct with you, asked questions you would sometimes prefer not to answer, but there was no chance you intended to share your line of thinking. He would get it, you knew that, but the conversation was unnecessary as you were doing just fine hiding it all. So, you shook your head and offered him your best smile. “Doesn’t matter. Just a long week.” That wasn’t technically a lie, it had been a painfully long week, but he didn’t need to know that all thoughts outside of him ceased to exist the moment you stepped out your front door to see him waiting for you. Instead, you attempted to redirect by gesturing to the batting cages. “We starting or ending there?”

There was a look in his eyes that made you fearful he would continue his line of questioning, one that said he didn’t believe you, but he seemed to think better of pushing. “I was thinking we end there,” he reasoned as he glanced over and offered you a half-smile. “Build the suspense, you know?”

“Or get enough drinks in that neither of us will be up to our usual.” It was playfully accusatory, teasing in a way that felt so natural with Bradley, and you felt a small sense of triumph as he laughed.

“You were in a batting cage, I was day drinking,” he reminded you, snickering as he repeated your quip from earlier in the week. When you cut your eyes at him, his smile seemed to double in size. “A beer or two won’t have any impact at all on my batting average, Angel.”

“I’d like to say that I’m surprised,” you sighed as you stepped through the front door, “but I don’t think I am.”

Bradley rolled his eyes fondly as he followed you inside, close behind to keep from being separated. “C’mon,” he urged, “first round’s on me.”

Knowing Bradley, every round would be on him. He’d insisted since being reunited, declared he was making up for lost time when he dragged you out on nights he knew you’d rather be in bed, but you knew better. Bradley was better with actions than with words - small gestures, such as buying a round or completing an annoying to-do list task - and used them to show that he cared.

This was a conversation you’d had a dozen times before, a fight he never let you win, so you made no effort to argue as you headed for the bar.

The entire building was impressive, decorated to match the overall theme of childhood nostalgia with neon signs and patterned carpet. The walls were lined with old games - Pac-Man, Space Invaders, pinball machines - and it seemed that everywhere you turned, there was something new to discover.

Little conversation was shared at first as both you and Bradley were too busy marveling at the sheer size of the space. It was almost overwhelming, too many choices in one building, but soon, you were wandering through the vastness of it all in search of your next activity.

Much of the night passed in a blur of bright colors and loud noises. The games themselves were fun, easy enough when you had a drink in your hand - though you and Bradley both kept it light with only one drink each, too busy having fun to return to the bar and wait. Bradley’s presence, however, made it all the better.

Bradley kept you close as you weaved through the crowds, one hand at the center of your back - respectful, but still enough to have your breath catching in your throat with every press of his fingers as you felt the warmth of his palm through the material of your top.

While you opted against the go-karts and mini-golf, you’d already formulated a plan to return with the rest of the Daggers in tow. You and Bradley mapped it all out between games of skee ball and Crazy Taxi - you’d begin with go-karts, before the group started drinking, and end with the pair of you showing everyone up in the batting cages. It was perfect, silly and fun, and you found yourself forgetting everything that wasn’t the immense joy you were experiencing.

Hours passed in a haze of giddy laughter and jokes traded at the others’ expense before you finally made your way outside. With his hand still at the center of your back, slipping lower with every step, Bradley guided you to the batting cages with a grin.

“Alright, slugger,” he teased, eyes bright and glittering in the overhead lights as he gestured to the rack of bats. “Lady’s first. Show me how it’s done.”

With a playful shake of your head, you stepped away from Bradley and reached for a helmet and a bat. There was no doubt that he believed you - he believed nearly everything you said, whether he should have or not - but he was once a pitcher, too. It was an experience you shared, one few people you saw daily understood, and you knew this was less about you proving yourself and more about finding something you had in common and celebrating it.

The entire night was a way to spend time together doing something you both loved, something you rarely got to indulge in these days, and you were grateful he’d suggested it. Even as you stepped into the batting cage, weight of Bradley’s gaze heavy against your skin, you felt nothing but the giddy excitement you’d been experiencing since stepping foot into the bar.

Had it been anyone else, you might’ve felt nervous. The teasing, the playful jeering as you took a few practice swings, might’ve made you afraid of looking stupid. But this was Bradley. While he could be competitive, it was always playful - with you, anyway. This was fun and you knew he would cheer you on regardless, so you nodded when he asked if you were ready to start.

When the first ball came flying toward you, speed at the max setting, you inhaled deeply before taking a swing. The ball whistled as it soared high, a resounding ‘ping’ echoed through the cages and earned a few glances from passersby, and you felt a sort of relief as it flew into the net before bouncing back toward the return.

Laughter, amused and a little awed, rang out behind you as you caught Bradley shake his head from the corner of your eye. “You weren’t joking.”

“You almost sound surprised, Bradshaw,” you teased, though he didn’t - not in the slightest. “This one’s going to the left, top corner,” you informed him as you shifted your hips and waited for the next ball.

As it flew high and left with another sharp ‘ping,’ Bradley leaned against the barrier and folded his arms over his chest. “Where are we goin’ for dinner?” The question was asked with a smile, bright and tinged with something you couldn’t quite place. “Your choice since I’m clearly going to be paying for it.”

“It’s not over ’til it’s over.” Even as you spoke, words interrupted by a huff of effort as you took a swing, Bradley seemed unconvinced. And, if he’d been as honest as you, he had every reason to be. With a laugh, you offered, “I was thinking about that place by the beach, the one with the cool patio.”

“Sure.” Bradley would’ve allowed you to choose regardless - and wouldn’t have let you pay for him, even if you proved to be an awful batter - because that was the kind of friend he’d always been. The restaurant on the beach was a shared favorite, however, a staple that you visited at least once a month, and you knew you would’ve likely ended up there, anyway. So, you felt little remorse about your choice, even as he continued. “You’re only two balls in but you win,” he relented, laughing as he lifted his soda to take a sip. “Where’s this one headed?”

“Straight up the middle.”

Between pitches, you spared him a glance over your shoulder. You expected him to look bemused, pretending to be put out by your ability, but there was a look in his eyes that you couldn’t quite place. His smile was fond, brighter than you expected, and you almost convinced yourself it was pride that had his shoulders set a little straighter as a passing pair praised your ability.

Even the brief notion that Bradley was proud of you, impressed by your ability in a way few others had been, was enough to warm you from within. Heat flooded your veins, much as it did every time he spared you a wayward compliment, and it took a conscious effort to keep yourself from preening under his scrutiny.

“Why am I not surprised you’re a place hitter?” His question was punctuated with another resounding ‘ping,’ followed by a ball flying into the net, as he shook his head once more. “Starting to think you were grown in a lab, Angel.”

It was clearly teasing, a soft jab accompanied by laughter, but you couldn’t help the bashful shrug as you readied yourself for another ball. His jokes about your perfection had become more frequent, accompanied by soft laughter, and though you knew he’d witnessed your flaws, it still made your skin prickle any time Bradley saw the good in you.

Still, you swallowed the warmth and tightened your grip on the bat. “Told you, batting cages while you were day drinking.” There was a brief pause as you took another swing, this hit a line drive to the left, before you admitted, “Softball and nursing school didn’t leave much time for fun or friends so, batting cage it was.”

“We would’ve been friends,” he declared, certain in a way you wished you could be - though you were grateful to have met him later in life. You knew yourself well enough to know that you likely wouldn’t have been able to handle the schoolgirl crush you’d formed almost immediately after meeting him, not then. But Bradley didn’t give you much time to dwell as he hummed, “We could’ve been day drinking and hitting the batting cages together.”

“I don’t know if I would’ve befriended frat boy Bradley.” Though you offered him a teasing grin, laughed when he rolled his eyes, you knew that you would have. You were half-certain that you would’ve found Bradley in any life and fallen just as hard, no matter the circumstances of your meeting. But you kept that realization to yourself as you teased, “His idea of fun sounds like it could end in an ER visit.”

“Would’ve given a student nurse some real life experience,” he reasoned, smile growing into something brilliant when you laughed. “But at least you admit it sounds like fun.” Bradley tipped his head then, brows furrowing as he watched you take another swing. “Why’d you play, though? Nursing always sounded hard enough without being an athlete, too.”

Over the years, you’d had more conversations with Bradley than you could count. There were very few topics that hadn’t come up as you shared nearly everything - your career, your friends, your hobbies, your interests, your hometowns - but family was one of them. And, in a long line of similarities, your reason for playing softball and his reason for playing baseball was rooted in family.

Bradley once mentioned that baseball was originally deigned something to do, a task that got him out of the house and incorporated him into the community when he and his mother moved to Virginia after Goose’s death. He once shared that it was something his father loved as a child, an alternate life path he could’ve taken, and indulging in it made him feel a little closer to the father he missed. He admitted that it made him feel weightless - long before he experienced true weightlessness in the cockpit of a jet - but he’d never asked you why.

It was just one of those things that went unspoken until it didn’t.

“Family,” you revealed, not bothering to turn even as he made a noise of understanding. “My grandmother played. She got married and had kids really young. Sports weren’t really a thing for women in her time, anyway, but there was a rec league in town. She was amazing; a switch hitter, place hitter, a damn good pitcher. If she’d been born a little later, she could’ve made a life for herself playing. But she wasn’t and she couldn’t. My mom tried to take after her but she never really got the hang of it. I was the only one who did, so, I guess I figured I had to be the one to live the dream for them.”

The weight of your rationale was not lost on Bradley, you knew that, but he was never one to push for more. That was enough, enough vulnerability for a batting cage in the middle of a crowd, so he shifted. “Do you still play?”

Once upon a time, after a handful of drinks and a few stories about the Naval Academy from the Daggers, Bradley shared the things he missed about college. Baseball was one of them as he hadn’t played since graduation. He’d been asked, a handful of times, to join in on the odd pickup game here or there but it wasn’t the same and you knew that. There was little a pickup game could do to recapture the feeling you’d experienced on a field with teammates but Bradley seemed to realize that you’d at least swung a bat since graduating.

“Sometimes,” you confirmed, finally sparing him a sideways glance. Those brown eyes followed your every move, every shift of your hips or flex of your foot, and you felt your skin prickle under his scrutiny. You shrugged, returning your gaze to the machine, and took a deep breath. “I join local leagues when I can, if I hear about them. It was easier when I was working at a hospital with civilian nurses but most of the time, they don’t really want me joining in. I can never promise I’ll be around for a whole season or that I can make it to everything. I get it, though. They want someone who’s going to be there.”

When the machine finally shut off, you turned to face Bradley. There was a look on his face that you couldn’t read - something contemplative, softer than you expected - as he declared, “Their loss. They’d be lucky to have you, Angel.”

Bradley’s sincerity was obvious, almost achingly so, and you felt your heart clench at his declaration. It meant more than you knew it should but before you could dwell, consider exactly how it made you feel, Bradley headed for the controls.

“Wait,” you called out, before he could press the ‘start’ button. “Don’t you want to bat? I feel like I’ve been in here forever.”

“Don’t mind me.” He smiled, this one real and bright, as he gestured to you. You stood, still inside the cage with a bat clutched in one hand, and lifted your gaze to meet his eyes. “I’m just enjoying the view.”

A storm of butterflies filled the pit of your stomach. Your skin heated, your heart thumped just a bit too hard in your chest, and you had to tip your head to hide your face as you shook your head. There was a slight edge to his voice, a deeper rasp that you’d only heard used at the Hard Deck - locked in conversation with pretty girls you watched him take home instead of you - and you were almost convinced you imagined it. However, before you could question it, Bradley laughed.

“Oh, you’re getting shy on me now? Really?” As desperately as you wanted to make some sort of witty quip, return his teasing with some of your own and hope that your voice didn’t shake, you could only attempt to swallow the warmth creeping up your chest as he pressed the button. “I’m having plenty of fun watching you, Angel. Keep going!”

There was a warmth to Bradley’s comment that seeped into your bones, warmed you from within. Bradley complimented you frequently, sought to make you - and other friends, including Natasha - feel proud, but this was different. There was a weight to everything he’d said throughout the course of the night you’d never felt before.

The weight of his statement, the softness with which he spoke, had your voice catching in your throat as you waited for the machine to start. Your heart continued to thunder in your chest, cheeks heating, but you attempted to disregard the feeling of Bradley’s gaze burning into your skin.

When you finally found your voice, heart still beating just a touch too fast even after the first hit, you shook your head. “One more round,” you relented, “and then you’re up, Bradshaw.”

If Bradley heard the waver in your voice, if he noticed the slight heave of your chest as you fought to even your breathing, he didn’t mention it. Instead, he nodded easily. “Of course. We have to end the night with a laugh,” he reasoned, poking fun at his own abilities. “You gonna be my relief hitter when I strike out?”

“It’s a batting cage, Roo.” It was meant to make you laugh, meant to ease the tension you knew he could see in your shoulders, but it worked as you leaned into a swing. “There are no strikeouts.”

Before he could counter, make some joke that would keep you laughing and fully ease you back into the moment, a passerby - who’d definitely had more than your one drink - yelled, “Damn, man. Your girl’s killing it!”

“Yeah, she is.”

Three words, a simple acknowledgement of a drunken compliment, and you nearly missed the next pitch that flew toward you. It likely meant nothing to him - he likely hadn’t even noticed the man call you his girl - but if you weren’t careful, you knew this moment would play on a loop in the back of your mind.

It was intoxicating, the idea that someone else saw you as Bradley’s girl, but you made a herculean effort to stay focused on the task at hand as you took swing after swing. A handful of passersby continued to cheer, drunken words of encouragement rang out with every ball you sent soaring, but Bradley kept quiet as you flew through the remaining pitches on the machine.

There were no witty quips, no jokes, and you were grateful for the relative silence as you allowed the repetitive motion to calm your rapidly beating heart.

Finally, when the machine reached zero and you’d reached a state of semi-normalcy, you turned to watch as he grabbed his own helmet and bat.

Bradley approached with a smile, though it was softer than it had been all night - gentle, almost timid in a way you’d never seen him - and brushed your shoulder with his own as you passed in the entryway. Though it was far from the first time he’d touched you, a jolt of electricity flew through your body at the contact and you struggled to inhale deeply as you offered him what you hoped to be a teasing grin.

“Alright, frat boy,” you hummed, voice quieter than you intended but still playful enough, “show me what you’ve got.”

The quip made Bradley laugh, even as he shook his head at the nickname. “Prepare to be woefully underwhelmed, Angel,” he teased, offering you a grin as he settled into his stance.

“I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

With a nod from Bradley, you pressed the ‘start’ button and watched as the first pitch flew toward him. And, with that very first swing, you knew he’d been telling the truth.

Bradley’s first attempt ended in a foul ball, right off the tip of the bat, and the second fell just a little too close to his hands. His third was a complete miss, though he made a decent effort, and you lifted your hand to cover your mouth in an attempt to stifle your laughter.

There was no telling how much of this was an act - playing up his lack of ability to make you laugh, to make you feel better about your own prowess - but you couldn’t help yourself as you winced when he dropped his shoulder and missed a third ball.

“Nevermind. You really are a shitty batter, Bradshaw.”

“Funny, that’s what every coach I’ve ever had said.” When you laughed, shaking your head at his self-deprecating joke, Bradley took another swing. With another miss, he spared you a quick glance over his shoulder. “This is why I was a pitcher,” he acknowledged, glancing at a ball that rolled past his feet. “Next time, we’ll go to a field somewhere and I can redeem myself.”

“No redemption necessary. I believe you’re a good pitcher,” you promised him, laughing as he jolted away from a ball spiraling too close for his comfort. “Pitchers aren’t supposed to be able to hit.”

Bradley made yet another attempt and you nearly clapped as this one connected and flew into the top right corner. With it, Bradley laughed. “That’s the best you’re gonna get,” he declared, smiling as he spared you another glance. “Press stop for me, Angel?”

With a laugh of your own, you pressed the ‘stop’ button and waited a moment for Bradley to exit the batting cage. As he stepped out, returned his helmet and bat, you took a moment to study him.

Bradley Bradshaw was beautiful. Though you kept your feelings for him a closely guarded secret, everyone knew you found him attractive. You weren’t the only one who thought so, especially on those nights he wore the jeans that hugged his thighs just right to the Hard Deck - especially on the nights he wore his Hawaiian shirt unbuttoned, collar of his undershirt weighed down by aviators and exposing a sliver of sun kissed skin - but you were always struck by just how pretty he was up close.

Though you’d never been much of a fan of the mustache - a commonality on every base you’d ever been stationed at, especially among pilots - it worked for Bradley. It suited him and you were glad he hadn’t been talked out of it yet.

Even on the toughest of days, Bradley always offered you a smile. He made it a point to be honest with you, to tell you when he felt rough or when he’d seen better days, but he always left having shared at least one smile. It was always encouraging, always there when you needed it, and you were grateful that Bradley deemed you worthy of his smile.

And those eyes - warm and beautiful, always so expressive whenever he regarded you - never failed to make you weak in the knees. With every gaze you shared, with every glance exchanged, you found yourself falling deeper into a hole you knew you would never be able to climb free from.

However, as Bradley turned to you, you felt the air escape your lungs as you began to realize that you were alright with never being able to climb free.

As afraid as you were that the comfort you found in Bradley would be lost should you allow yourself to fall completely, you realized that he would never allow that.

Bradley had been a part of your life for years, there for you through the best and worst moments of your life. No matter what happened, he’d proven to be a constant - a home for you to return to in even the most troubling of times. There was never any doubt that he would remain in your life, even if you learned what it was to love and lose Bradley Bradshaw, and you began to accept that.

In a stunning moment of realization, you came to the understanding that should you choose to give this a try, should Bradley want you in the way that you wanted him, he would do everything in his power to be there for you regardless. And should he not want you - though, as you finally gave yourself the space to consider, you wondered if the things you rationalized as friendship actually meant more to him - he would never leave you out in the cold.

Even if everything that could go wrong did go wrong, even if a relationship happened and ended in heartbreak, you were confident that Bradley Bradshaw would remain constant.

After years of stability, years of love and patience, there was little that could push him away.

“Angel?” Bradley’s voice broke through the haze, drew you out of your thoughts and back to reality as you blinked at him. He frowned, concerned, and took a half-step closer as he studied your face. “Are you okay? I lost you for a minute.”

“Yeah, I’m okay.” With a smile, you gave Bradley a nod - hopefully convincing him that you were, in fact, alright - before gesturing to the mini-golf course. “I think we played everything inside but there’s always mini-golf, if you want to keep playing. But I’m good if you want to call it a night.”

“I think my pride’s taken a severe enough hit,” he teased, expression relaxing slightly as he glanced toward the parking lot. “Let’s get you home. It’s almost past your bedtime, anyway.”

Though you rolled your eyes, you shook your head fondly as Bradley fell into step beside you and began heading slowly toward the Bronco.

The question you’d wanted to ask for a long while - whether Bradley wanted the relationship you did, whether he saw you win the same light - lingered on the tip of your tongue. After years of wondering ‘what-if,’ you finally allowed yourself to ask the question aloud.

“Bradley?” Warm brown eyes met yours, soft and still slightly concerned, as he hummed his acknowledgement. “Is this…” You weighed your words for a moment, considering, before you finally settled on a question. “Are we on a date right now?”

A soft, half-smile lifted the corner of Bradley’s mouth as he reached into his pocket in search of his keys. It was almost bashful, the way he ducked his head, and you swallowed to keep yourself grounded as you waited.

“I wanted it to be,” he admitted, voice quiet as the din of the bar began to fade. “I was going to really ask, make it obvious that’s what I wanted, I just…”

Bradley’s hesitation felt familiar. His shrug, noncommittal and questioning, was the same thing you found yourself doing whenever Natasha questioned why you refused to make a move. There was a tinge of fear in the pink dusting his cheeks, in the set of his shoulders as you approached the Bronco, and you held your breath as he shook his head.

“I like being your friend. I’m happy to be your friend,” he stressed, coming to a stop at the passenger side of the Bronco. In the dim light of the parking lot, Bradley’s eyes glittered as they met yours. “I haven’t spent this long being your friend as some sort of consolation prize, worried you didn’t like me back. This isn’t settling and I don’t see our friendship as less than a relationship,” he assured you, soothing a worry you’d buried deep - one he likely sensed all along. “I just… I always knew it wasn’t the right time, we were both trying to establish ourselves. But when we were apart, I thought about you all the time. I missed you all the time, more than anyone else.”

Knowing that Bradley valued your friendship first, believed it to be important - worth as much as romantic love, not something he simply settled for in place of something he’d rather have - made your chest ache as you reached out to place a hand on his bicep.

“I missed you, too, Bradley.” When his eyes met yours, smile soft and gaze so reverential it nearly stole your breath, you couldn’t help but take a half-step closer.

Bradley remained quiet for a moment, as if considering his words, before he smiled bashfully. “I’ve always thought about this,” he admitted, hand lifting to cup your cheek. His palm seared your skin, warm and heavy and a comfort you’d wished for for years, and your breath caught in your throat as he continued.

“Why now?”

It wasn’t a question you needed an answer to, not at that moment - not under the buzz of a streetlight and in the view of drunken strangers - but it seemed important as you struggled to focus on anything other than the warmth of Bradley’s skin pressed to yours.

“Mav. He got his second chance with Penny,” Bradley reminded you, voice soft. “We never lost touch but this was another chance. I couldn’t let this one pass me by.”

“Kiss me.” Bradley smiled then, clearly pleased by your request, and leaned in. He pressed his lips to yours in a soft kiss, a chaste peck, and you nearly laughed at the feeling of his facial hair brushing your skin. His lips, slightly chapped, were warm and you lifted a hand to the back of his neck as you mumbled against his mouth, “Like you mean it, Roo.”

With a half-step, you pressed yourself impossibly closer and released the years of longing you’d suffered into the kiss. Fireworks popped behind your eyelids, blood simmered in your veins as heat engulfed your entire body, and you wondered if every kiss would be this wonderful as Bradley’s free hand fell to your waist. His fingers pressed into your hip, lips working against yours, as everything around you ceased to exist.

Despite the heat of the night, the dimness of the parking lot, you would’ve been content to remain there for the rest of the night. All that mattered was Bradley, his body pressed to yours as years of longing were swept away, but all too soon, a loud cheer broke through the blissful haze.

A group of drunken passersby cheered, whistled and encouraged you both as they wandered through the parking lot to meet an Uber, and you pulled away from Bradley with a laugh. As you tipped your head to hide your smile, mild embarrassment heating your skin, you decided that the moment still couldn’t have been better.

Bradley seemed to agree as he grinned and brushed a thumb across your cheekbone. “I can’t bat to save my life but I think tonight was a home run,” he teased, laughing as you groaned at the pun. “C’mon, let me take you home.”

“Please. Before I decide I’ve had enough of the awful jokes and leave you hanging.”

Years had passed in which you suffered through Bradley’s awful jokes with a patient smile and a disbelieving laugh. There was little you wouldn’t do for him, even less he wouldn’t do for you, but you were still left giddy by his rolling eyes. “There’s no getting rid of me now,” he promised, laughing as he started up the Bronco. “We’re in it for the long haul.”

It was a promise, one that you hoped he’d be able to keep, and you felt a surge of hope for the future.

There was no expectation for the rest of the night, no pressure as you made your way back to your place, and you were content with that. Neither of you said much on the drive, simply allowed yourselves to exist together, and for the first time, you had no worries about ‘what-if.’ Instead, there was only the thought of ‘what could be.’

A deeper conversation had to be had, you both knew that, but there would be time for that later. There was an entire future awaiting you both.

And instead of wishing it to arrive so soon, you focused solely on the moment at hand.

As Bradley walked you up the sidewalk, palm warm in your own, you made no effort to wipe the smile from your lips. The giddy feeling in your chest made you feel as if you were walking on air, excited for the possibilities that now seemed endless.

The unknown was always terrifying and there was no guarantee for the future - no guarantee for anything more than the moment at hand. But Bradley Bradshaw had always been a constant. He’d been by your side for years, steady and true and loving. He was home, a light in the dark, and he was right; with him, you’d certainly hit a home run.

___________________________________________________

Author’s Note: It has been a Shit week. I’m going to go rewatch Top Gun and lay in the dark for a while. Enjoy the friends to lovers fun.

Taglist: @lulu-noodles, @holachicos, @getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth, @withakindheartx, @ssprayberrythings, @verin93, @totalwitch2, @malindacath, @alexparkxr, @hangmandruigandmav, @alexxavicry, @calicokel, @jaymum, @dracosluvbot, @little-wiseone, @specialk6802, @mandylove1000, @julesclues, @archetypesoflife, @oliviah-25, @benhardysdrumstick, @caatheeriinee07, @yvespoems, @chloereidwayne, @flower-name, @callsignharper, @peoniarose, @hangmanscoming, @rh3tt, @dakotakazansky

#bradley bradshaw x reader #top gun imagine #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster x reader #rooster imagine #top gun x reader #top gun maverick imagine #top gun one shot #bradley rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw fluff #v's fics

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sunderlust · 2 years

Text

won't you keep lettin' me love you for a long time (rooster)

masterlist

pairing: rooster x f!reader

synopsis: you drive rooster home after one too many margaritas

warnings: fluff, smidge of angst (mentions of grief, death, bradley losing his parents)

wc: ~2k

note: a wise person - aka may - once told me to never scrap your writing, even if you’ll never use it again. I was gonna backspace the first draft of this - actually wrote it for another angsty Jake what’s new - but then rooster inspiration struck (roospiration, if you will) (actually don’t that just looks like perspiration) (I mean I’d love to have rooster’s sweat- nvm)

sorry long ramble aside here’s something short and sweet after my last angsty fic 💕

“You’re way too good of a friend to me,” Rooster grins sloppily as he slumps over the bartop in front of you. Honestly, he’s pretty lucky they had just wiped down the counter. At any other moment, it’d be sticky with beer and sweet and sour and he’d run the risk of getting a pistachio shell stuck to his mustache.

“Yeah, perhaps I am,” you half-seriously agree with a smile and slide a full glass of ice water towards him, then lean back in your own chair to observe a drunk Rooster trying to manage a few gulps while smiling like a goober at the colorful liquor bottles lined up on the shelf.

The bar’s been long empty, most aviators having taken their leave thirty minutes after the last call. Bradley usually heads out earlier than this - doesn’t like staying out late and messing up his perfectly curated bedtime routine. But tonight was a reunion of sorts with his old classmates, and they went through quite a few margaritas.

You joined about an hour ago, and Bradley immediately elected to sit with you and engage in wonderfully mindless chit-chat. You’re not complaining at all - every moment you can spend with the gorgeous aviator is a moment to cherish. Plus, it doesn’t hurt to get all the gossip on his current students at TOPGUN - like the three that are involved in a devastating love triangle that’s most definitely exacerbated by Bradley always grouping them - a move he most certainly took out of Pete Mitchell’s book (“They need to focus on the job, not distract themselves with high school theatrics,” he ranted to you earlier).

“Hold on, wait,” Bradley suddenly says, then springs himself upright and focuses hard on you. “If I squint just right...” he screws up his face, almost going cross-eyed. “I can see two of you!” Bradley’s mustache quirks with his smile, and his entire face lights up like the sun. “Goddamn. What a sight.”

“You’re hammered,” you scoff in an attempt to conceal how much the term of endearment affects you, how it makes your entire body feel warm and tingly because you secretly love it when he’s this open and brazen with you, tossing out flirtatious remarks with no hidden agenda besides trying to put a smile on your face.

“I’m not hammered - they call me Rooster,” he replies breezily and you swat at his shoulder, turning away to hide your smile and raising your other hand to flag someone down to close out Bradley’s tab.

After handing over your card (despite Bradley’s drunken attempts to sway the bartender against letting you pay) - you finally stand up. “Need a lift back home?” you ask him with a teasing lilt to your voice. It’s a rhetorical question - he’s got no other way home besides an overpriced Uber - but he still hums thoughtfully. Slowly, he lifts his head and surveys you while drumming his fingers on the wood.

“I.... think that would be best,” he declares, determinedly slapping the counter and attempting to slide off the barstool in a suave manner - it looks more like Bambi on ice, but you can’t deny that it’s still incredibly endearing. He looks up to flash a brilliant, a bit lopsided smile at you. “I’ll see if ‘Nix can pick me up early to grab my car in the morning.”

You laugh, slide your purse off from the back of the chair, and think to yourself about how he’ll have to find out for himself tomorrow that he didn’t even drive here.

Your car rolls to a stop right outside a quaint, one-story bungalow, and you shift into park before unlocking the door and sitting patiently. Bradley’s quiet - as he’d been the entire ride home - and you chance a brief look at him. He’s sitting up, now looking straight back at you with an unreadable expression on his face. Evidently, there are one too many thoughts running around in his tequila-addled brain.

“You okay?” you ask him, eyes seeking out his in the darkness of one AM.

A few seconds of silence roll by, each ticking louder with your beating heart. “Yeah,” he breathes out. “Think I may have had a bit too much.”

“I’ll say,” you snort. “You didn’t even say anything when someone queued up Foghat earlier.”

“Fuck Foghat,” Bradley groans out and leans back against the headrest. “And fuck Jake for ruining a perfectly decent song.”

You hum reassuringly and eye his dark figure carefully, watch the shadow of his chest rise and fall steadily, and find yourself matching his breathing. “You sure you’re alright?”

His head lolls to the side as he appraises you. Finally, he lets out a long sigh. “Yeah, I just...” he trails off, fingers tapping mindlessly on the console. “You’re my best friend,” he says at last. “And you’re so... good”

Bradley shifts into the tiniest sliver of light, eyes glinting with the reflection of the street lamp glowing outside. You hold your breath, not sure if he can even see you or what he means by it, or what will come out of his mouth. “You’re so kind and good to everyone. Even me. And I don’t deserve it. Don’t deserve you,” he says with so much sincerity your heart breaks at him thinking that he’s not deserving of benevolence, friendship, or even love.

You open your mouth to object, to reassure him that it’s very much the opposite, but he beats you to it with words that make your heart bounce around wildly in your chest, yearning to jump right out and press up against his. “I wish my mom and dad got to meet you.”

It punches all the air out of you, and you just sit and look at him solemnly, somehow at a loss for words.

Bradley has carried grief with him since he was four years old. One day, he’s learning about all the different species of dinosaurs from a book his uncle had gifted him, and the next day, he finds out that his dad won’t be coming home, and he’s discovered something new - a little thing called loss. And years later, loss greets him once again with a bittersweet kiss on both cheeks as it tears away his loving mother and his traitorous Uncle Pete. And for some time, it’s just Bradley and his grief, the dynamic duo, a force to be reckoned with as he swears to uphold his father’s legacy, to make Carole and Goose proud (even Maverick, on a subatomic level).

You know some time back, he figured out why Mav pulled his papers - to appease Carole, sweet Carole, who didn’t want her son to see the same fate as Goose. You know Bradley wonders if his parents would be disappointed in him for still following his dreams. The worst part about losing his parents is that he’ll never know how they’d feel about the man he’s become. It’s especially easy for him to believe he hasn’t done enough.

“Bradley,“ you start, throat closing up as your mind races, as you search for the right sequence of reassuring words. “I think you deserve the world.”

You think back to the early days of getting to know him - shortly after you’d moved to San Diego and found him in some dive bar near the ocean. You remember coming back to the bar with your coworkers on Thursday nights, wistfully sending glances his way across the room and trying to muster up the courage to talk to him, ask him to hang back for a drink, ask him if he likes pancakes or waffles in the mornings because you want to know what to make for him after rocking his world (that last sentiment may have been heavily gin-fueled). It was a simple crush at first.

You recall the day he slid up next to you, bought your next drink, and asked you to join him for a round of darts (which you failed miserably at - somehow it’s much harder in real life than GamePigeon). You remember the laughter, the neverending conversation, the comforting feeling of having a new friend. A great friend - one who always lends a listening ear, makes you laugh until your stomach hurts, who brought you his mom’s famous tomato soup when you got the flu.

Phoenix says he’s usually stuck in his head and thinks too much - but in the time you’ve known him, he’s never spared a second thought when it comes to you.

In a rush, you return to the present, where he’s sitting in front of you with glistening eyes and a drunk mouth speaking words you know cross his sober mind every day. His face is crumbling with emotions that he usually keeps under lock and key because he can’t let it get in the way of his job, can’t let it mess him up when he’s flying or teaching. For whatever reason, this is the side of him that he only feels comfortable enough to show you.

Slowly, you reach over the console to interlace your fingers together and pull his hand up to your mouth to press a sweet kiss to the back of it. He squeezes once. “You know that they’re always here,” you tell him. “Every part of them that they’ve given up has made you the wonderful man you are now. In that way, you always have them with you. And they’d be so damn proud of you. I wish I had the chance to meet them, but I know they’d agree.”

He’s nodding his head with your words as if he’s shaking them around his mind in an attempt to instill their meaning. “And...” You press another kiss to the back of his hand. “I’d say you’re my best friend, too,” you say, whispering mock-conspiratorially.

The grin that slides over his face makes butterflies erupt in your stomach, flying around wildly, completely shredding your intestines but that’s a problem for later because right now Bradley, who has to be the love of your life, is smiling like he just won the lottery, like he’s the luckiest man in the world. Suddenly he’s leaning in, reaching a hand out to brush a piece of loose hair behind your ear and then cup your cheek lovingly, and he’s kissing you like you’re the air he breathes.

You return with fervor; his mustache scrapes roughly against your nose and you can still taste the cheap sour marg mix on his tongue and you can definitely sense how drunk he is by the lack of coordination he exhibits every time your teeth clash together. But it’s real and raw and beautiful all at once, and he’s kissing you like he did the first time all those years ago, as he did on the beach when you said yes to forever, as he did months ago after you exchanged I do’s in a small but beautiful ceremony.

You’ll always prefer messy kisses over anything else, and you’ll always love Bradley with his grief wholly and unconditionally.

Bradley, now seeming to be the slightest bit soberer, breathes in deeply, pulls back slightly, slowly grazes your cheekbone with his thumb as he tries to look at you in the darkness of what must be one-fifteen now. “Thanks,” he says genuinely. Doubt is still festering its prickly self inside him, but he’s grounded now and is comfortably tethered to you.

“Always,” you promise to your best friend, to your partner, to your husband, then surge forward to press another kiss to his lips before moving to unbuckle his seatbelt. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he replies ardently and pulls you in to kiss your forehead, then turns to fumble for the car handle. He pauses and lowers his head to look out the window where his Bronco is parked right next to yours. “Hold up - I didn’t drive tonight?”

You stifle a laugh and grab your bag from the back seat. “Think your age is showing, honey.”

Bradley squawks out in indignation and stutters through a couple of rebuttals before sighing and burying his face in his hands. “I hate this. Why did you let me drink this much?”

“I showed up later, babe,” you tell him. “Think you can blame Jake for the margs.”

Another groan sounds out from him. “Of fucking course it’s Jake’s fault.”

With a little bit of coordinated effort, the two of you manage to walk (stumble, in Bradley’s case) up the stone pathway leading to the front porch, unlock the door, and step into your shared home together. And later that night, you lay down next to a softly snoring Bradley, think about all the moments that brought you to him, and drift away on the feeling of utter devotion.

#rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster one shot #rooster imagine #tgm fic #sol writes

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katsu28 · 1 year

Note

i don't know if you've done this, but a 🍭 “You told me not to worry about them.” with bradley bradshaw maybe??

thank you sm for requesting, my dear ari!! much love for u <3

bradley "rooster" bradshaw x aviator!reader, callsign Casper (like the ghost hehe), some swearing, 1.3k

They were just some harmless pranks; you could handle them. That was what you told Rooster over and over when he found out you were getting hazed by some other pilots in your squadron. It wasn't uncommon for stuff like this to happen to newer pilots, but damnit if he didn't hate seeing it happen to you.

It was what he had to keep reminding himself when you called him at three in the morning one night and asked him to come pick you up from one of the shadiest districts in San Diego. His mind was reeling the whole car ride to you, because you’d sounded so quiet on the phone. Whether it was because you were embarrassed, upset, or even scared, he didn’t know.

“Are you okay?” was his first question as soon as he’d put his car into park and rushed over to you, eyes squinting in the dingy, flickering streetlight to scan your whole body for any sign of injury. You just nodded, and when he seemed certain that there was nothing wrong with you, he frowned. “What the hell is going on? Why are you even out here this time of night?”

“It was nothing, just another stupid prank,” You muttered, drawing your jacket tighter around yourself. Rooster’s eyebrows furrowed. “What?”

“Pranks are funny. This? Ditching you alone here of all places, that’s not a prank. That’s risking your life.”

“You say it like I don’t do that for a living everyday.” You were joking, even though right now definitely wasn’t the time to be cracking one.

Rooster’s jaw clenched. “This isn’t a fucking joke, Casper, okay? I know you wanna fit in and prove that you belong here, which you do, I know you do, but this hazing shit with your squad isn’t okay!”

“It’s nothing I can’t handle.” You set off to the Bronco after that, effectively cutting the conversation short. Rooster was worried, you understood that, but every pilot went through this kind of thing. Making it through the pranks meant that you’d finally be accepted as a real part of your squadron, so you were fine with it. But Rooster had a problem with it, and he wasn’t afraid to tell you. Case in point.

Rooster slid into the driver’s seat a few seconds later, turning to you and opening his mouth like he was going to say something, but decided against it, instead opting to just start driving.

The atmosphere in the car was tense, to say the least. Neither of you wanted to break the charged silence, too headstrong to give in.

Rooster was the first one to break a good while into the drive, voice defeated. “You told me not to worry about them, Y/N.”

Y/N. Not your callsign. That was how you knew he meant business.

“And you still don’t have to, Bradley. I have it under control.” And that was your stubbornness talking. It was one of the qualities you possessed that gave you the grit and determination you needed to make it this far in the game, and you’d be damned if you let a bunch of chauvinistic asses take it away from you.

“If you had it under control, it wouldn’t’ve got this far. I can talk to those assholes, let ‘em know not to mess with you.”

“Oh, and then what? I get let off the hook because my big scary Lieutenant boyfriend said so?” You scoffed, crossing your arms tightly over your chest. “They’re never gonna take me seriously after that. So thank you for picking me up, but just leave it alone, okay?”

“I’m just trying to help you!”

“Help me?” You let out a humorless chuckle. “You don’t get it, do you? However hard it was for you to earn the respect of other pilots, it’s fifty times harder for me. Nobody takes me seriously because of who I am. What I look like. I need to prove that I’m just as tough as they are, and if they think I’m pulling favors from you, I’m right back where I started.”

Rooster hesitated again, taking a second to digest your words. He’d never actually thought of it that way. He was so focused on what he could do to get them to stop that he never considered how that would bode for you. Rooster knew the type of guys your squad members were. Hell, he’d even been that type of guy at one point in his life.

But you were right. If he stepped in, that would only make things even harder than they already were for you. And if they suspected you’d gone running to him to get him to pull his rank, maybe even escalate it further.

“I’m sorry,” Rooster said softly, settling his free hand over your knee. You continued to stare out the window, jaw clenched tight so he wouldn’t see you falter.

He tried again, a different approach this time. “I get it. Finding a good groove with a new team is hard. You just wanna take it, muscle through whatever they throw at you. Show them that you can play with the big boys. But sweetheart, this is getting out of hand. Stupid pranks are fine; I’ve pulled a shit ton back in my day. But when it comes to compromising your safety, that doesn’t fly with me.”

Your breath trembled as you exhaled, and Rooster noticed. He flicked on his blinker, maneuvering off to the side of the street and killing the engine in one smooth motion before swiveling to face you in his seat, one big hand coming up to cup your cheek.

“I was really scared, Bradley,” You admitted, your words nearly a whisper. You leaned into his touch instinctively, fingers curling around his wrist. “I—I didn’t know if I should call you, or just find my way back on my own. I didn’t—I didn’t know what to do.”

“Oh, my sweet girl,” He cooed, stripping off his seatbelt. You thought he would try to hug you from here, but instead he held up a finger, hopped out of the car and rounded the hood, pulling your door open to gather you in a much better hug than you were expecting. His arms folded around you just right, lips pressing into the top of your head, heart a comforting thud against your ear. “Thank you for calling me. Always call me, no matter what time it is. If I can be there, I’ll be there. And if I can’t, I’ll find a way.”

“Thank you,” You mumbled, voice muffled against the softness of his hoodie.

“Of course.” Rooster sighed, giving you one last good squeeze before holding you at arms length for what he was going to say next. “You’re a good pilot, Casper. I’ve seen you fly, you’re one of the best I’ve ever seen.”

“Yeah well, you’re biased,” You said lightly, nudging his ribs with your elbow gently.

“I’m not! Professionally speaking, as someone who’s seen dozens of pilots come in with the potential to become something great and fizzle out, I can honestly, truly say that you’re not one of them. You don’t have to prove yourself to anyone, because you’re just that good.”

“Are you trying to woo me and get me into your bed right now?”

Rooster’s cheeks flushed pink. “No! Well yes, eventually, but—stop distracting me! I mean it, okay? You’re going places. So tell those dickbags to knock it off, because chances are, if you’re as scary as I know you can be,” He earned another jab to the gut for that comment, “they’ll take the hint. Show them you’re not playing their stupid games anymore.”

“I will.” Your fingers loosened their grip around his torso, lips quirking into a soft smile.

“Good. I’m glad. And if they keep being jerks, I’ll gladly be of service.” He shrugged. “As your boyfriend, not Lieutenant Bradshaw. No pulling rank of any kind, I promise.” When you laughed, he straightened proudly, always pleased to be the reason you were happy. Some would even say it was his greatest mission in life. “Stay at my place tonight?”

“Okay.”

“See, now I’m trying to get you into my bed. I think it’s working too. Is it?”

“Definitely.”

#bradley bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw one shot #rooster bradshaw one shot #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw angst #rooster bradshaw angst #miles teller #top gun maverick #kait celebrates 1k!

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valhallaas · 8 months

Text

On My Own

listen here

pairing: bradley rooster bradshaw x female!reader

word count: 1.8k

summary: it’s a nightmare. it’s a memory. if only you could let it go.

warnings: angst, major character death, stages of grief, mentions of pregnancy

a/n: um. i haven’t written anything in like, four months and i return with this. cool cool cool. angst isn’t my forte, so i did have this beta read. yeah. read and enjoy. would love the feedback!

“Tell me, when’s the last time someone told you they loved you?”

The question isn’t malicious. You mean no harm by it—only genuine curiosity. You’ve known Bradley Bradshaw, Rooster, since your earliest top gun days. You know everything there is to know about each other. You’re best friends, and you know that you’re both on the edge of teetering towards more.

He stares at you like a kicked puppy. Eyes wide, mouth slightly parted in surprise. Your heart hurts a little, because you know that he probably has never thought about it. Silently, you push off the kitchen counter, setting down your glass of wine. Your head tilts, taking slow steps towards him. Bradley flinches when your hand rests on his chest, fingers splayed out over his beating heart.

“Bradley,” you whisper.

“I don’t–” he can’t look at you, hands balled into fists.

“An ex-girlfriend maybe?” you say, slightly hopeful. A slight nagging feeling crawls up your spine. God, it’s been years. Please don’t let it be. “I know Phoenix gets emotional when she’s drunk, did she say it to you then?”

He shakes his head, stepping closer into you. Jesus, what did you do? You’ve never seen him like this before. It’s making you nervous. You never meant to put him on edge.

“Bradley,”

“It was my mom.” He finally whispers after a beat.

Your hand clings to his shirt, your heart breaking. It wasn’t a malicious question. You had no ill intent when you asked. Clearly you didn’t think it through, not really. The far away glaze to his eyes made you want to shove the words right back down your throat. How do you fix this? How could you fix this?

“The last person I told I love you to was you.”

You almost didn’t hear it. A frown taking up your face as your eyes meet his own. Bradley’s staring down at you, adoration slowly creeping over his face. His eyes have gone soft, something you’ve noticed they only do when he’s looking at you. Confusion sweeps over you. When the hell has he ever told you he loved you? Without a doubt you know that you’d say it back. Because you do. You love Bradley. You love him so much that it hurts sometimes.

The corner of his lips pick up, as if hearing your thoughts. “You’re always asleep, a little too drunk, or walking away.”

Why, why would he do that? Stepping closer, hands gripping his shirt, refusing to let him move an inch away from you. Your head tilts up, nose bumping against his. Is this what pushes you over the edge? A hidden confession brought to light.

“Were you afraid I wouldn’t say it back?”

“No,” he whispers, pulling you into him, body flush against his. “Wasn’t sure if I was ready–”

“–to hear someone else say it.” Bradley nods, resting his forehead against your own. “Are you ready now?”

He smiles, lips ghosting over yours. “I love you, sweet girl.”

You can’t help but smile back. You push up on your toes, lips meshing with his. A perfect fit. You melt against him. Hands trailing up his arms, over his shoulders before gipping the back of his neck. A quick taste before you’re pulling back, teeth digging into your bottom lip. Bradley’s eyes are blown wide, gaze fixed on your lips.

“I love you too, Bradley.”

His name is on the tip of your tongue. It echoes through you, a phantom pain that will always bring tears to your eyes. You’re not sure how long it’ll take before you can sleep in the middle of the bed, to touch his side. Your eyes squeeze shut, not wanting to see the perfectly made up side.

Not after the dream you had. Right, yeah. Dream. A nightmare. A memory.

It’s the first time you’ve slept in your bed, in your room. You’re facing his side, everything exactly how he left it. Half full bottle of water sitting next to a picture of his parents on the nightstand. A white hamper next to his closet, the left door barely open. You roll on to your back, eyes opening to stare up at the ceiling. I love you, sweet girl. The words roll over you, making your skin raise with gooseflesh, the hair on the back of your neck stands on end.

Fuck. Why did you think you could do this? No one else did. As if on cue, the doorbell rings, making you jump. You know you look like shit, not that it should come as a surprise to anybody. Slowly, you slink from the bed, keeping your eyes cast to the floor. You count each step, anything that’ll distract you.

It’s twenty-nine steps from your bed to the front door. You aren’t surprised when Jake and Natasha are standing there. Jake’s lips are pulled into a hard line, and Nat’s not even trying to hide her worry. Leaning back, closing the door, you check the clock hanging on the wall. 10:33 am. Swallowing, you face them, a raised brow.

“What’s–what uh, why are you here?”

“Your phone’s off.” Jake bites out, pushing past you and into the house.

You roll your eyes. “I’m not on suicide watch. I’ve been cleared.”

“Yeah, well, those fucking shrinks don’t know you like I do.”

Rubbing at your eyes, your temples, you head to the kitchen. Jake and Nat sit on either side of you. While he stares at you, annoyance gracing his features, Natasha can’t hide her worry. She picks at her cuticles, eyes flickering around the small space.

“Are you okay?” you ask her, hand pausing her fingers.

“It’s quiet here. Almost too quiet.”

You swallow thickly. You had noticed that too. No sports games playing on the television. The piano sits untouched—you refuse to look at it. It breaks your heart, because it’s only collecting dust now. You haven’t known this kind of quiet since before. You never thought there’d be an after. It’ll grow on you, you think. There is no other choice. Your hand pulls down your shirt, covering your stomach. Jake doesn’t miss the movement, eyes narrowing.

It’s been three months. You’ve been grounded for multiple reasons, despite being cleared. Penny had taken you in, nursed you back to health. It seems like everyone knows that you couldn’t be on your own. But you aren’t, not really. You’re finally comfortable with moving back into your shared space. It’s where you want to raise your child. A home that was filled with love and happiness. A home that was all you and Bradley.

“Sweetheart,” your eyes snap to Jake’s, that familiar green glistening with concern. “I made a promise. You will take care of yourself, I will force you if I have to.”

“I know.”

Your world was crumbling before your very eyes. Alarms blaring, lights flashing, smoke billowing all around. Rooster’s voice rang out in your head, giving you orders. When did you ever take orders from him—even if it was to save your life?

“—now! This is not a dog fight you can win!”

You can hear his voice, but the words aren’t registering. Straight through one ear and out the other. Not like it matters. In only a few seconds, a blink of an eye, a gasp of your breath, Rooster is shot down.

Nothing else matters. Not even the enemy turning and firing at you.

You can’t hear anything. Not the roar of the enemy aircraft hovering over you. Not your heart beating desperately, trying to get out of the cage that is your ribs – desperate to find Bradley. Time doesn’t seem to be moving. Slowly your body comes screaming back to you. It hurts, mainly your left shoulder, but that isn’t going to fucking stop you. With every ounce of strength you have you get to your feet. Clenching your teeth to stop your scream, your helmet is pulled over your head. There’s no sign of blood, not that you believe, not that you can tell any different.

Rooster. Where the fuck is Rooster? Tilting your head up, eyes scanning the sky, you look for smoke. There it is. North. You start running. It hurts. God, it fucking hurts and you’ll pay for it later. If it saves him now though, it’s all worth it. He’s worth it.

You look like a goddamn vision running to him. His own living, breathing angel. Bradley’s gaze shifts. This isn’t right. No. No. He didn’t ever want to tell you. Scared that his love was a curse, a prophecy. It’s like he knew – he knew if he said it he’d end up following in his father’s footsteps. Bradley couldn’t do that to you.

“Bradley, Brad – look at me, baby. I got you.”

You’re ripping off everything, trying to stop the bleeding. He huffs out a garbled laugh, large hands holding on to your own. Teardrops hit your skin and you’re not sure whose they are.

“Bradley,”

There’s a faraway look in his eyes. He smiles. You know, you know. It’s the first time he’s seeing his parents in years, and you are not enough to keep him here.

Time moves quickly. Blood sticks to your skin. He stopped breathing a while ago. You aren’t leaving, you aren’t letting go. Smart pilot, he had his beacon. Is it the cold that numbs you? The silence? Or is it the secret you kept rolling like seasick butterflies in your stomach? Tearfilled eyes lift to meet familiar sea glass ones when his warm hands gently pry yours from Bradley’s. Hangman can’t hide his wince, seeing Rooster’s dog tags embedded into your palms from squeezing them so tight. Past him you see a chopper. They’ve come for you. They’ve come for the both of you.

“Salem,”

“I tried. I–I, I tried. I tried so hard, but it wasn't enough.”

The piano taunts you. Whispers your name, echoes in his voice. God, you miss his voice. Jake’s passed out on the couch, Natasha’s in the spare room. Nat stayed because Jake did. Jake stayed, well, because he cares, you guess. You don’t care about either of them at the moment. Your fingers itching to touch the keys. Natasha had mentioned earlier how quiet the house was. You hadn’t said anything, not wanting to lie.

Sinking onto the bench, your fingers hover over the keys. It’s two in the morning and you should be in bed. You are pregnant after all. But the little thing seems to find comfort here, same as you. They are their father’s child.

Softly, slowly, you plunk at the keys. Your voice is gentle, barely above a whisper. It’s etched in pain, an unrequited goodbye.

Don’t you know I’m no good for you? I’ve learned to lose, you can’t afford to Tore my shirt to stop you bleeding But nothing ever stops you leaving

The sound of floorboards creaking makes you pause. Tears spill down your cheeks at the sight of your friends watching you. They both rush you when you begin to sob. Chest aching, throat closing. You’ll be okay eventually. Because you know better than to believe that Bradley would’ve ever left you on your own.

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw smut #rooster bradshaw smut #rooster bradshaw one shot #bradley bradshaw one shot #top gun: maverick fanfic

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disturbedbeautywrites · 1 year

Text

Let’s give him hell - Bradley Rooster Bradshaw x Seresin! Reader

Warnings: Mentions of domestic abuse, cursing, fighting. Protective older brother Jake and bestie Bradley

Part 2 is posted here

“Please don’t be awake.” You repeated the words to yourself as you walked up the steps to your house, praying to a higher power that Jake wasn’t still awake. He had been home for leave and was staying in your guest room along with a couple of his navy buddies. You knew he didn’t want to stay with your parents because he wasn’t your dads biggest fan, so you said he could stay with you. But now, as you realized the situation you were in, you were regretting it. You really didn’t want your older brother to see the poorly covered bruises because you knew he would lose his shit. You were the youngest of the Seresin siblings and the one who was the closest to the only boy of the bunch, him being a couple years your senior.

The bruises that were slowly starting to turn purple now were the doing of the man who was supposed to always protect you. Jason, your boyfriend had gotten a little over zealous tonight and had put his hands on you. You tried to cover it with makeup and a baseball cap, but you knew you weren’t fooling anyone.

You kept your head down as you slid in the front door, trying to shut the door quietly. You heard your brothers voice and the voice of others; telling you that there was more than one naval aviator you had to avoid. You listened to the voices; recognizing Rooster and Jake laughing about who knows what. You slowly pushed the door shut and swore under your breath as the door squeaked loud enough for the conversation to stop.

“You’re home late.” You heard Jake call out, his head peaking out from behind the door frame in the kitchen. You nodded and lowered your head even more, clicking your tongue as you sat your keys down and sighed. You felt like you were a teenager again, getting caught by him when you were out past curfew. “Yeah, I fell asleep at Jason’s.” The words were a bold faced lie as you scouted out your escape up the stairs and to your room “I hope you haven’t tried to burn my house down yet.” You tried to keep a conversation flowing as you put away your shoes and your coat, hearing Rooster laugh at your comment.

Your heart swelled in your chest at the sound of your best friends laughter, wishing you could go say hi. But knowing better than that. “What do you think?” Jake’s voice made you roll your eyes as you affirmed his smart ass words, hearing a chair scrape along the kitchen floor. “Wow, she hasn’t even come to say hi to me. We both come into town for the first time in a year and she’s avoiding us..” You heard Rooster’s teasing voice and you feel your heart start to race.

“I’m going to bed! I’ll see you guys tomorrow! Night!” And with that you took off sprinting up the stairs, slamming your door behind you. You turned the lock on the door, or so you thought as you walk into your room and sink down into your bed. You slid the hat off your head and let yourself take in the sight of yourself, a few tears slipping down your cheeks as you shake your head; recalling the argument in your head.

You had called him out on not being faithful to you, having found evidence of him cheating in the form of a girl texting him while you were over. It had made you extremely upset, telling him you were done. At the words, he lost his temper. He took his anger out on you and you were now wearing the consequences.

“Hey, Jake asked me to come check-“ You heard a knock on your door as Bradley pushed it open, showing a perfect example of the literal open policy the two of you had in your friendship. He stopped dead in his tracks as he caught sight of you in the mirror, his eyes widening. “He didn’t.” His tone turned harsh as he walked in and sat in front of you, carefully taking your face in his hand. “Are you okay?” His voice softened as he carefully ran his fingers down your skin, his hazel eyes meeting yours.

You gave him the best fake smile you could muster, nodding as you put your hand over his. “I’m okay, Roo. I promise.” You wiped away a couple of tears as you looked up at him and swallowed thickly. “Please don’t tell Jake..” You knew exactly what your brother was capable of and you were terrified for it to be unleashed. Growing up, he was the kind to square up against your dad and he did it with a cocky smile on his lips.

Your dad laid his hands on your mom one time and never made the mistake again after Jake punched him for it. Sure, the blonde aviator got a nasty shiner and a bloody lip, but he looked your dad dead in the eye as he threatened with the cops. “Call them. I’ll tell them to read me my rights. You don’t fucking touch my mother like that.” His words were dripping with venom as he spit his blood into the grass, clenching his fists. “As far as I’m concerned, the law was mine to break tonight and I would gladly fucking do it again.” The fight was over then and there and never happened again.

“You know I have to tell him. He fucking hurt you.” Bradley was trying to keep his cool for your sake but you just looked up at him, shaking your head. “Then I guess I should just give you more ammo if we’re going to rile my brother up.” You pushed yourself up off the bed and out of Roosters grip, walking over to your dresser. You slid out of the shirt you were wearing, slipping on one of Roosters old shirts that he gave you. “He cheated on me too.” You met his eyes through your mirror, feeling a small sense of fear creep into your spine as you saw anger flash through his eyes.

Rooster shook his head as he watched you crawl into bed, biting the inside of his lip. He walked over and sat on the edge of your bed, feeling like you could use the sense of safety. He stayed there until he heard your soft snores, quietly letting himself out of your room.

He walked downstairs to meet the curious eyes of the other aviators, Jake opening his mouth to spout off a smart aleck remark. However, Bradley raised his hand to stop him, a dead serious look on his face. “We have an ass to go kick. He laid his hands on her.” The words were enough for Jake to stand straight up, immediately going to grab his truck keys. “Do you know where he lives?” One of the other boys spoke up, setting his beer down on the table as they all stood up from their chairs. “Unfortunately for him, I do. He’s going to pay.” Jake’s words were cold enough to chill someone to the bone as he motioned for everyone to follow him, ready to go take matters into his own hands.

Taglist: @atarmychick007 @ginger-gabsq @fandomxpreferences

#jake seresin au #top gun maverick imagines #Jake seresin imagines #Bradley Bradshaw imagines #jake seresin one shot #Bradley Bradshaw one shot #top gun maverick x you #Bradley Bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #Jake hangman seresin imagine #bradley bradshaw x reader #Jake seresin x reader #top gun maverick x reader #rooster imagines #hangman imagines #bradley bradshaw angst #Jake seresin angst

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roosterbruiser · 1 year

Note

would you perhaps be able to do “please talk to me” from the angst list with bradley?🥺👉🏻👈🏻

when Rooster wakes up, he doesn't get even one moment of normalcy. usually when he wakes up beside your sprawled figure, he peppers your shoulders with lazy kisses. then slink out of bed, brushes his teeth, slips into his tennis shoes, and goes for a run down the shoreline. sometimes he even watches the sunrise there, panting, taking an earbud out to hear the gulls caw. sometimes he'll even grab smoothies for the both of you on his way home, and hop in the shower as you finally woke up, lips wrapped half-heartedly around a neon straw.

but you're not in bed when his eyes flicker open for the first time today. your side of the bed is crumpled, cold. you've been out of bed for a while.

the morning light is gray--not an early morning gray, but an endless slate. one that means rain, probably.

he glances at the clock, head muddled from his deep sleep, and sees that it's almost 11am. he sits up, brows furrowed, and feels that hollowness grow inside of him immediately. it's like a jolt--something that infects wholly and completely immediately.

oh. his body is reminding him.

today is November 7th.

how could he forget?

instead of jumping out of bed like he usually does, which is a habit he vaguely remembers his father having, he allows his shoulders to slump and his chest deflate. he sinks back into the covers, feels his eyes grow heavy, and pulls the blankets up beneath his chin.

there are two days of the year that Bradley lets himself stay in bed all day: July 29th and today. the anniversary of both of his parents deaths.

you're trying to balance this goddamn tray of food as you walk up the stairs in your monkey slippers, cursing yourself for settling so many beverages on here. does Bradley really need three choices?

whatever, you think. he'll have his pick of the litter at least.

the bedroom door is cracked just enough for you to carefully back your elbow into--just enough for you to step into the room in near-silence except for the shivering glass on the metal tray in your hands.

honestly, you're expecting Bradley to be asleep still. he slept in on that hot day in July, didn't say much at all, just pressed his face against your belly and let M*A*S*H reruns play all day. after, you'd felt guilty; you hadn't done much to make him feel better, stupefied from being this close to such palpable grief. your only prerogative was being there for him, which is how you ended up staying beneath the sheets despite the heat.

but you find Rooster's knit brows and glossy eyes immediately. in your spot in the doorway, you freeze, then grin.

"well, good morning, merry sunshine!" you say softly. "how'd you sleep?"

Bradley's just staring at you, eyes moving from the tray and back up to your wanton gaze as he slowly begins to sit up against the headboard.

"fine," he tells you.

"thought you'd still be asleep," you tell him, shuffling to the bedside carefully. "hope I didn't leave you waiting too long! and I hope you're hungry, 'cause I made a little bit of everything."

Rooster, stunned, just watches you with his hands in his lap. you're wearing his class t-shirt from high school and an old pair of cotton underwear, your eyes bleary and your hair untouched. but all the same, you're grinning at him, nodding for him to move his hands from his lap.

"for your drink selection, we've got coffee, orange juice, and a strawnana smoothie--if you're feeling frisky. for our meats we've got turkey bacon, Impossible Sausage, regular bacon, and--well, are eggs meat? no, right? okay, moving on," you say, shrugging as you point to all the foods as you list. "then we've got scrambled eggs--lots of cheddar cheese and no sage this time, okay? I won't do that ever again, baby, I promise!" you press a lewd and sweet kiss to his forehead before continuing. "and then we've got two pieces of French toast with maple syrup--like that healthy kind you like, the one that gets, like, milked from the trees or whatever. we've also got a short stack of buttermilk pancakes with the sprinkles I know you like but you won't admit it, so we'll say that I like sprinkles in my pancakes! and then the usual suspects--grapefruit, cinnamon oatmeal, sliced apples, grits. pick your poison!"

and that is when Bradley suddenly lets his head tip forward, tears spurring from his eyes suddenly as if a spice had been broken.

oh fuck. this isn't what you meant to happen.

"baby?" you ask tentatively, holding the back of his head with a frown planted on your lips. "I was just kidding about the sprinkles."

with his face angled down, he can see those stupid monkey slippers on your feet. he can see the eggs you made just right, leaving out the sage you sometimes like to sneak in. he can see the different beverages and the rainbow sprinkles. he can even see the sly nibble you took out of his French toast.

he is totally and completely overwhelmed--but it isn't by grief right now. it's love. love and affection and honey and everything else in the world that is sweet and perfect.

"talk to me, baby," you whisper, shuffling to move the tray from his lap and sitting on the bed. he immediately lets his face fall on your shoulder, choking on his sobs. "please."

November 7th was the worst day of his life--one of them, at least. it was when his mother let go, moved on, left him behind. he remembers how peaceful it was when she was gone: all the monitors turned off, the IV drips empty, her face slacked and serene. and he remembers being so angry about it all--why did she have to go to be okay again?

but now it's November 7th and he's eating breakfast in bed and you're in your monkey slippers and those old panties and stroking his hair. he feels entirely swollen with it--love.

"I love you so much," he tells you, unable to put it any differently. "and I really do like sprinkles in my pancakes."

the knot in your throat dissipates at his words. you never push him to talk about his grief--only nurture it when he trusts you enough to speak on it.

so, you kiss his head a few times, hold him against you.

"that was really brave of you to admit," you tell him, a smile tugging at your lips.

he laughs through his tears, sniffling, tracing your spine with his fingers delicately.

"I know," he sniffles. not so subtly, he wipes his nose on your tee. you don't mind it one bit. "you're my best friend."

"me?" you whisper, voice thin with emotion. but you know that you can't start crying, too. so, you clear your throat. "you must be a real loser then."

he laughs weakly, inhaling all that sleep on your skin.

"yeah," he agrees. "I must."

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tongue-like-a-razor · 1 year

Text

Rooster's Brood | Part 2

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Wife!Reader

Summary: The squad babysits and Rooster intends to take full advantage of his alone time with you.

CW: fluff, dad Rooster, Rooster loves his hot wife, suggestive banter and allusions to sex, A LOT OF KIDS (this is probably the biggest warning haha).

Based on this request.

Masterlist

You walk out into the living room to find that the rest of the squad has already arrived. The number of people crowded on the lower level of the house is laughable, but it’s the first time the aviators are babysitting, so they’ve decided that the more reinforcements they have, the better. You step around Mickey and your twin boys who are in the midst of terrorizing his pant legs to show off your new dress.

“What do you think?” you say, smiling at your husband as he looks up at you from the couch.

Three of your children are bouncing on the cushions so Bradley is bobbing up and down as his eyes rake over your figure. His mouth quirks into a sideways smirk and he rises from the couch, saying, “Wow.”

“Bradshaw, you’ve yet to tell us how you tricked this goddess into marrying you,” Jake says from the armchair where your daughter is cozying up to his knee. He’s absently running his fingers through her hair and she looks oddly content just leaning against his leg.

Bradley’s grin widens. “I’ll have to get back to you when I figure it out,” he says.

You chuckle, shaking your head. “You like my dress?” you ask, turning on the spot.

Bradley nods. “It’s spectacular,” he says. “But it would look better on the floor.”

A chorus of gasps erupts out of the adults in the room. Jake claps his hands over your daughter’s ears with a horrified expression. “Rooster! The children!”

Bradley laughs. “Don’t worry, that was way too abstract for them to follow. I’m surprised you caught on, Hangman.”

Jake gives him a flat look while your daughter starts climbing into his lap. You find it endearing that she’s taken such a liking to him and even more sweet that he helps her up and wraps his arms around her tiny body, shielding her face with his hand as your other kids start clambering his legs trying to gain his attention.

“You guys better go before Hangman has a heart attack,” Natasha says, ushering the two of you toward the door. “Rooster, are you wearing jeans?”

“What’s wrong with jeans?” he asks, slipping his Ray-Bans over his eyes.

“Nothing, if y’all aren’t going to the same place,” Jake calls out.

Natasha eyes Rooster’s Hawaiian shirt and then the high heels you’re stepping into and purses her lips. “I never agree with Hangman,” she says. “But I have to agree with Hangman.”

Bradley gives her and the rest of the aviators an ironic smile. “Just don’t forget to feed the kids, alright?” he says.

“I think Fanboy brought five separate meals,” Reuben responds with a chuckle.

“We’ll see who’s laughing when dinnertime rolls around. Toddlers can be picky eaters, you know?” Mickey chimes in.

Bradley raises his eyebrows. “That’s not false.”

You clear your throat. “They’ll eat whatever you give them, just be firm. No dessert until they’ve had enough to eat.”

“Dessert?” Jake calls from the armchair although he’s not exactly visible behind the jumble of little arms and legs. All your kids seem to have decided that they want to sit on him. “What’s for dessert?”

Bradley looks over at you and winks over his sunglasses. “I know what I’m having for dessert.”

“Rooster!” Jake roars. “The children!”

You giggle and Natasha shakes her head with a smile. “I don’t know how many more innuendos Hangman can handle.”

Bradley smiles. “Alright, kids, we’re leaving!”

“Yes, we know,” Bob says, holding the door open.

You stifle a laugh while Bradley gives him an amused look. “I meant the other kids,” he says as a throng of your offspring race for the door to say goodbye. Bradley squats down to give each child a kiss while you pat their heads before they sprint back toward Jake’s armchair. The entire process takes no less than five minutes because Bradley has something to say to every one of the kids. When it’s your daughter’s turn, Bradley lifts her onto his knee and gives her a warm hug. “I love you so much, princess,” you hear him whisper in her ear.

“I love you too, daddy,” she says, putting her arms around his neck.

“Uh,” Javy says, watching the series farewells uneasily. “You guys are planning on coming back, right?”

Bradley chuckles as your daughter slides off his lap. “Bedtime’s at eight!” he hollers over the noise of the room.

“Where am I sleeping?” Jake calls back.

Bradley rolls his eyes and leads you out the door.

…

“Think they’ll be okay?” you ask, a little nervous to hear Bradley’s answer.

“Phoenix is there,” he says. “She’ll make sure Hangman behaves.”

You laugh. “Are Phoenix and Hangman –”

“They should be,” he responds with a grin.

You nod. “I thought so.” Bradley watches as you bring your glass to your lips. You catch his gaze and smile. “See something you like?” you ask playfully.

“Yes, that drink looks delicious,” he says.

You laugh, glancing down at your strawberry daiquiri. “Want some?”

“Oh, I definitely want some,” he replies with a smirk.

You let out a soft chuckle and he reaches for your hand. “What are the chances that all the kids sleep through the night tonight?” he asks.

“Negative chances?”

“Let’s get the squad to sleep over,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows.

“That might be asking too much.”

Bradley holds his phone up. “Phoenix has already offered. Apparently, the twins want Hangman in the top bunk.”

��Your poor friends don’t know what they’re getting themselves into.”

Bradley shrugs. “It’ll be a learning experience.”

“For your squad? Or for our children?”

“Both?”

“Well, if they’ve offered…”

Bradley’s grin widens. “So,” he says. “Where are we sleeping tonight?”

You raise your eyebrows at your husband. He licks his lips tantalizingly and you could swear that he gets sexier with every passing day. “Who says we’re going to be sleeping?”

Bradley watches you in awe. “Alright, so, you ready to get out of here or what?”

You start laughing again. “We haven’t even had dinner!”

“They’re taking too damn long,” he says with a hint of a whine in his voice. “And I’m not even hungry. For food, anyway.”

You glance down at his hand that’s wrapped around yours on top of the table, his grip tightening slightly in his excitement. “You’re so funny,” you say, but you can’t deny that his eagerness to get on with the evening has your heart racing too.

“Who’s joking?”

You shake your head, knowing that he’s mostly kidding. However, you also know that were you to agree to leave now, he’d skip dinner in an instant. “You’re cute,” you say.

“How cute?” he asks. “Cute enough to fuck before the first course?”

“Bradley!”

He chuckles, squeezing your hand. “That’s a yes, right?”

You give him a pointed look. “Your girl is hungry.”

“I could give you something to eat.”

Your mouth drops open and you glance around fretfully to ensure that nobody’s heard him. You glare at him threateningly, but he probably just finds the action adorable because his grin widens and he slides his fingers through yours.

“I’m kidding, honey,” he says, but the way the word honey sounds in his deep, slightly raspy voice makes you a touch unsettled. Perhaps you’re not as hungry as you thought. You stare into your husband’s dark eyes while his thumb draws slow circles into the back of your hand. You realize that what you want more than dinner rolls and a starter salad is his tongue in your mouth. His hands around your waist, your back pressed up against some wall or other.

“They look pretty busy,” you say, your breathing accelerating with how much your imagined encounter has exhilarated you. “We might have fifteen minutes or so.”

Bradley cocks an eyebrow, his thumb pausing its languid strokes. “Are you serious?”

You shrug. “Unless you’re not up for it.”

“Oh,” he says. “I’m definitely up for it. In fact, I’m up just thinking about it.”

You exhale sharply. “Let’s do it,” you say resolutely, rising from your seat.

Bradley looks up at you in disbelief as you spring up from your seat and pull down at the hem of your dress. He reaches over to brush his fingers over your thigh. “Why bother?” he says in a low voice. “I’ll be pulling it back up in a minute.” His thumb brushes the skin under your dress until you swat at his hand in shock.

“Bradley!” you hiss. “Don’t be so fucking obvious about it.”

Bradley smirks, adjusting his jeans before standing up. “I want everybody to know that I get to touch you,” he says into your ear as he pulls you in by the waist. “I’m very proud of that, you know?”

You melt into his arms as he draws your body into his chest, steering you toward the back hall of the restaurant. You can sense that the two of you are being so indiscreet that it’s bordering on obscene but, in the moment, you hardly have a care in the world.

You shuffle through the corridor toward the rear, past the swinging kitchen door, and Bradley’s hands close around your shoulders as he drives you into one of the darker alcoves near the exit. The back room that’s normally reserved for private parties is empty, so the two of you have the space to yourselves.

As soon as he’s pressed his body against yours, Bradley starts pulling up your dress. He leans his head into yours as his fingers hook into the lacy band of your panties and he lets out a shaky sigh.

“Do you have a condom?” you breathe heavily into his face as his lips catch yours in several soft, sensual kisses.

“No,” he says. Then, he gives you a mischievous grin. “But when has that stopped us before?”

Read next: The Making of Rooster's Brood

Rooster Tag List:

Please feel free to let me know if you no longer wish to be tagged in future Rooster fics/if you no longer consume Rooster content <3 My Rooster tag list might be overflowing 😅

@simp-for-fictional-people

@ollyoxenfrees

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@living-in-my-imagination88

@wintercap89

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@peoniarose

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punishereditz · 1 year

Text

Jazzy Woman

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Plus size!f!reader

Warnings: 18 plus only! Minors DNI! DO NOT COPY! Lead up to smut. Fluff. Unprotected sex. P in V. Oral. (f receiving) Praise kink. Size kink. Riding. Fingering. Hair pulling. Insecure reader. Mentions of insecurities and self-doubt.

AN: As someone who is plus sized; this story truly means the world to me. And is a reminder that all bodies are beautiful and that you deserve to treat yourself right. Words can't say how proud I am of this and how much I love this. Now, I could be wrong, but I like to think that Bradley would be into curvy girls. Also, go listen to all the songs! They are amazing!

Summary: You don't think your pretty enough and worthy of having love or being with someone. But Bradley thinks very differently of that.

Bradley loves to come to the bar to have a good time with his friends, drink and sing. But his motivation for coming to The Hard Deck changed. He comes every single night, just so he can see you. And if he can't come one night for some reason, he is devastated.

A few months ago, he walked into the bar like a normal weekend evening for him, but instead of Penny giving him his drink, it was you. You recently moved here to California after family matters, to get away. Starting over for yourself. Moving into your tiny apartment and landing a job here at The Hard Deck. Now working every night. You quickly got to know Bradley. Being for the fact you see him just as much as you see Penny. He is definitely a man who leaves an impression and doesn't mind filling the room with his presence. Unlike you who likes to keep hidden behind the bar, keeping to yourself in your own little world. Not making much of any effort to put yourself out there in the open with the extra attention.

And Bradley quickly learned that. He has tried time and time again to try and get you out from behind that bar, but you have turned him down every single time. He sits and watches you stay in the corner. But he notices the small things. Like how when you're working, your hips will sway to certain songs and your head will bob to the beat.

He wants to learn everything about you. To your favorite song to the spots on your body that makes you feel good. Thats why, tonight, he is determined to do just that. Not going to leave this bar until he has the real you having a conversation with him. Even better if you go home with him. But, for now he will more than happy just to have a pure conversation with you. Anything to know more about you.

"Hey." He tries to capture your attention now that the bar is slowing down.

"Yes? Do you need another drink?" You smile warms his soul.

"No, actually. I was hoping I could talk to you." He has a small smile. His hazel eyes fixated on you.

"Okay." Your leery.

"I was thinking, maybe we could go grab some food when you get off. What do you say?"

"I say, you know the answer to this question Bradley." You cross your arms over your chest. Leaning against the bar.

He lets his head fall forward, sighing. Knowing exactly what the answer is, but he doesn't want to hear it. He wants to hear anything but that. The words he gets every single time he tries to get close to you.

"I get off of work to late." And there it is.

"That's not a problem for me."

You sigh. Looking up at the smirking man. Knowing that his stubbornness will not take no for an answer. It's not that you want to say no. God, you want to say yes and spend your nights with him. But you keep pushing him away because you know a man as attractive as he is, could never have interest in a woman with your looks. It just can't be.

You wonder why he does give you so much attention to you. Why he is determined to be close to you at all times. He could go get any woman he wants in the bar. No man that comes in here gives you two looks, but yet he is sitting in a stool watching your every step. Why in the world would he have his eyes on me? It plays around in your head.

"Nice try Roo." You do what you do best. Push him away. Tell him no when you're screaming yes in your mind. When all you want to do is have a nice night with a man you find attractive and enjoy being in his presents. But that fear of yours, that voice inside your head overpowers you. It tells you and reminds you that you will never be good enough, that you're not pretty enough, and that a man like him could never take an interest in you. So, you walk away. Going back to work. Leaving Bradley sitting there in silence. Leaving him with his thoughts.

While you're thinking about why he gives you so much attention, he is thinking about why you give him so little attention. Why say no. Why a beautiful, captivating woman like you shuts yourself off from him and others. He wants to know what you see in yourself. What's going through your mind. What is it that he sees that you don't see? Just as his mind wonders on you, he sees you walk over to the stereo. Turning the volume up. When you return back, you're humming. Your body flowing. The movement of you enchanting him. He listens to the song, hearing Motownphilly by Boys || Men playing.

As he watches you, he has never you seen you so alive. Yes, you hum and move to some songs, but he has never seen a song move you so like this one does. Seeing this, he also sees an opportunity. "I didn't take you to be a Boy's || Men girl."

"Excuse me?"

"The song. You like it?" He raises a brow. Biting at his lip to hide his smile.

"Yeah. It's my favorite song. My Dad use to play it for me growing up." You don't even realize your letting that wall slip. But Bradley watches as it falls.

"You listen to hip hop?"

"Jazz." You correct him.

"Jazzy woman..." He whispers to himself. His plan going perfectly according to plan. "Have you heard Always Be My Baby by Brasstracks?" He continues.

You turn to him. A look of surprise on your expression. "You know Brasstracks?" You say in shock. Thinking you were the only one who listened to them. His smile grows as he nods.

"Wow..." You trail off. "What about Highroad by Sir Woman?" You ask. Bradley slowly becoming head over heels for you as he sees you get so enthusiastic and passionate about something.

"Yeah, I know that one. Musta Been A Ghost by Proxima Parada?" He asks.

"Sober by Earl St. Clair?"

"You Know I'm No Good by Amy Winehouse?"

"Didn't It Rain by Sister Rosetta Tharpe?"

"Oo, Nowhere To Run by Martha Reeves & The Vandellas?"

"It's So Easy by Margo & Mac?" You raise your eyebrows when he takes a long pause.

"Damn. You got me there. I haven't heard that one." He didn't think it was possible, but his smile somehow grew when he heard you laughing. Your head falling back and your smile wide.

This is exactly what he wanted. Learning that you like Jazz and then seeing you laugh at him. And not being able to stop smiling. It's everything he has wished for.

"You should give it a listen." As you smile warmly at him, longingly looking into those dark eyes, you realize he trapped you. That he's the wrecking ball and he just tumbled the wall you built. That he slipped right in and got to you. He paid close attention and found the thing you love and the thing that you could talk about for hours and started slowly pulling back the tape until he had you fully showing the true you. Now you see what he done. Now, you're going to walk away. Scared at the fact that he was able to get to you.

You sigh in defeat. Looking up at the clock realize that it's almost closing time. Not even realizing that Penny called last round. "Would you like to close your tab?" You ask him. He looks at you confused. Looking over at the clock, he realizes he has to get going. "Yeah, that will be fine." You do so. Starting to wipe down the counters but he still sits there.

"So..." He stands from his seat. "I'll meet you outside. We can finish our conversation over some pizza." He smiles at you, and you laugh. Resting your hand on your hip, shaking your head.

"Bradley..." You trail off.

"Yes?" He answers.

"I see what you did there. That was a nice attempt." You scoff. But not at him. More so at yourself.

"How about this..." He walks over to. Leaning against the wood. Getting inches from you. "If you don't enjoy yourself. I'll leave you be. But if you have a good time with me. We do this again next Saturday."

You take a moment to think. Looking away from those burning eyes. You know you will enjoy it. You don't want to admit it, but you loved talking to him. How easy it was. Talking about the things you love. Hell, he made you laugh and smile even.

"You get one chance, Bradley. And that's it." You say firmly, pointing your finger at him. You walk away. Getting your coat. Talking with Penny, her telling you that she's got it, and she can finish closing up. Telling you to go have a good time. So, you get your things. Getting in Bradley's Bronco. Driving you both to the Pizza place down in town that stays open all night for some reason.

Bradley putting on the radio and continuing to ask you about what music you like. How you got into music. What it means to you. Why you like Jazz. Such and such. Asking you anything and everything he can ask. Getting you to talk. As badly as he wants to look at how your face lights up when you speak, he pays attention to the road, and even closer attention to your voice. It smooths him. Relaxes him in a way. Hearing you talk about any and every song you know. From Sighed, Sealed, Delivered, by Stevie Wonder, You Can't Judge A Book By It's Cover by Bo Diddley to Stay Away From Me by Puff Kennedy, All Good by Samm Henshaw, Foreplay by Jalen Santoy and Love + U by Jensen & The Flips. You all but named every song you had on your playlist to him, and he loved hearing about every single one of them.

Next thing you know, you're ordering the pizza and walking back to his Bronco to go back to his place. From talking to the music, it led to telling stories. Mention a song and something crazy that happened when it played. Talking about how different songs remind you of different things. The stories flowing so nicely, your confused when he stops and gets out of the car, walking over to your side to open your door now that you are at his place.

"Okay. Tell me this. Favorite song from a movie?" He looks down at you as you both walk to his door.

"No. I'm not saying it!" You laugh. A specific song coming to your mind.

"Oh, well, you have to tell me now." He laughs with you. The both of you sitting on his couch. You cover your face with your hands. Your knees coming up to your chest. "Don't go getting shy on me now." He coos.

You sigh, "Something That I Want by Grace Potter." You answer.

"The song from Tangled?" He asks and you nod. "Is that your favorite movie?"

"Maybe." You speak. He opens the pizza box. Taking a slice for himself, then another for you. Holding it out in front of you but you put your hand up, shaking your head. "I'm not that hungry." You tell him. Your already out of your comfort zone. You're not about to go and eat in front of him. There is no way it's going to happen.

He frowns. But he doesn't make you eat. He sit's it back in the box. Pushing it so it is facing you in case you change your mind and want it. Comfortable silence falling between the two of you. He eats, leaned against the arm of the couch with his legs spread. You take your shoes off. Leaned against the other arm. Stretching your legs out on the couch. His eyes traveling over your body. At how close you are to him. How badly he wants to touch you. His mind focused on your beauty. The dimples on your cheeks. How your hair barely lays over your shoulders. Your hands interlaced on your lap.

He brings his hand up. Placing it on your ankle, starting to rub small circles. "God, you're gorgeous." He whispers.

"What?" You look up at him. Furrowing your eyebrows. His eyes come to meet yours.

"You're gorgeous." He speaks clearly. You move your head back like to look at him better. The line between your eyebrows growing and your lips parted. You chuckle. "Ha, no. No. Please, don't do that." You shake your head, looking away from him. He squeezes your leg. "Look at me." His eyes are boarded into yours. You squeeze your thighs together. Arousal pooling in-between your legs. He shifts in his seat. Turning his body so that he is facing you. His hand moves from your ankle up to your closed thighs. He leans over you. His face inches away. His lips hovering over yours. The hairs of his mustache tickling the top of your lip. The tension between the two of you heavy. He tries to kiss you, but you move away. Thinking why the hell Bradley Bradshaw finds you attractive.

"Say it." He whispers into your ear. His hand kneading your thigh. Biting your lip, trying to control your breathing. "Say what?" You question. Your voice soft.

"Say, 'I'm beautiful'. I want to hear you say it." He pulls away from your neck to look into your eyes.

"I'm not saying it." You say firmly. Heat creeping up your neck and to your cheeks. You don't think your beautiful. Why should you say it? You gasp in shock when he suddenly pushes your legs open. Pulling you down where you lay against the arm of the couch. Using his legs to keep yours spread wide for himself. Trapping you under him. One of his hands caressing your side and the other by your head, holding himself up.

His lips come to yours. This time, you don't move away. You lean into him. Wrapping your arms around his neck. Lacing your fingers through his soft hair. His hand kneading your breast now, making you moan into his mouth.

"So beautiful." He mumbles. Pulling away from your lips. Kissing along your jawline. Down your neck. "I am not." You stated.

"Oh, really?" He pulls away. "I guess I'll just have to show you then." He kisses right below your ear. Pulling a moan from you. "Show you how beautiful you are. Show you how you need to be touched." He speaks between kisses.

The touch of his lips and the touch of his hands leaves you panting under him. Catching yourself trying to breath normally, your thighs trying to close together but Bradley doesn't allow it. He keeps them open, his bulge rubbing against your core. Driving you crazy, making your head spin like a carousel. It starting to get harder to control your moans.

His lips coming to yours. All tongue and teeth. His hands coming to your legs, wrapping them around his waist. He hosts you up in his arms, standing up. Making you yelp. "Bradley Bradshaw, put me down right now! I'm too heavy!" You slap his chest. His head falling back in laughter.

"Uh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to laugh at you." He can't even get the sentence out without laughing. "Put me down!" You say firmly. Glaring at him.

"Okay. Okay." He mumbles. Putting you down. He doesn't even let you stand there for a whole two seconds before he throws you over his shoulder like a doll.

"Bradley!" You shout at him. He somehow laughs harder. Slapping your ass. He takes you into his bedroom. Stopping at the edge of the bed. He drops you down. Crawling back on top of you. His lips going to yours like a magnet. Not giving you anytime at all to speak. Not giving you time to do anything really. His hands coming up and pulling your jacket off. Throwing it to the side. His hand sliding up your shirt and to your breast. His other hand working at the buttons of your jeans. Not being able to get your clothes off of you fast enough. Your hands moving from his hair down to the hem of his shirt. He holds his arms up, letting you slide his shirt off of him. Your hands immediately going to his chest. Feeling his muscled, smooth skin. How he moves to your touch. If you weren't paying so much attention, you wouldn't have noticed how his breath hitched when you started touching him. How his cock jumped at your touch.

You try to unbutton his pants, but his hands come to yours. Pinning your hands above your head. "Not yet." His breath is heavy. His eyes hungry and you're the meal.

"But what about y-" You try to ask about him. About what he needs, but he cuts you off. "I've waited to long for this moment." He pauses. Jerking your pants down your legs. Throwing them to the floor to be found later. "I'm going to ruin you. Make you mine." He whispers in your ear. Pulling your shirt over your head. You try to cover your body. Try and hide, but Bradley doesn't allow it to happen. He pins your hands down. His eyes slowly ghosting over every inch of your body. Taking his time as he looks at you.

His hand moving and unclasping your bra. Throwing it as far as he can. Groaning at the sight of your bare skin. Finally exposed to him. He has you just how he wants. Naked and under him. Panting and desperate. This is everything he has imagined and more. He takes your breast in his mouth. Sucking, biting and kneading. Devouring you. Ruining you, just like he said he would. And he hasn't even started yet. This is only the beginning. He has already planned the whole night. His thoughts running wild like an animal set free to run in a field.

Even though he loves kissing every inch of your body, his patience can't take it anymore. He has to have more of you. With that, he laces his fingers in your underwear. Pulling them down. Diving into your core without hesitation. His tongue lapping circles around your clit. Pulling a moan from deep inside you. Your back arching off of the bed. Your hands gripping the sheets. Closing your thighs around his head. His hand coming to your thighs. Holding your legs open to give him room to move freely. He teases your entrance with his middle finger. Slowly pushing his finger in. Curling his finger at that spot inside of you that makes you weak. He adds another finger.

When your moans became louder. When you clenched your walls around his fingers, Bradley swore he entered heaven. He paid very close attention to your body. How his name continuously falls from your lips. How you pull his hair, how you try to grind your hips against his face. When he sucks your clit harshly, it makes your legs jerk and shake. Your mouth falling open, and your eyes shut. You look down to see Bradley's eyes already on you. The sight of him between your legs, looking at you like you're the most angelic thing he has ever seen, it sends shivers down your body. It sends you over the edge. Overwhelms you. That feeling in your stomach getting stronger, consuming you. Making you scream.

Bradley knows you are close. He knows you are about to come undone. You're the present and he is pulling at the strings, slowly opening you up. "Come for me." He groans against your core. The vibration of his words against you, the tone in his voice was enough to send you over the edge. That feeling getting so tight in your stomach until it is set free and your climax crashes over you. Bradley, helping you come down from your high. He stays still between your legs until he hears your breathing starting to slow down.

He pulls away. Licking his lips. Taking his fingers into his mouth. Sucking the cum off. Looking into your eyes as he does so. Looking over his face, at his red swollen lips and you're cum covering his chin and his mustache.

His lips come to yours. Kissing you as he pulls his pants down. Taking his cock in his hand. Pumping it. Precum leaking from it. He takes you in his arms. Walking around the bed, not breaking the kiss. He sits down. Placing you on his lap. You grind against his cock. His hips jolting up against you. His head falling back. Swears falling from his mouth. "Such a good girl." He mumbles against your skin. He holds the back of your neck. Pulling you to his lips. You attempt to lift your hips up so that your weight isn't on him, but he pushes you back down. Making you sit against him. "Bradley..." You say between kisses. He hums against your lips.

"I'm too heavy." You whisper. Looking down, avoiding his eyes. Trying to hide behind your hands.

"Hey..." He holds your chin. Tilting your head up. Making you look into his eyes. "You are not heavy. I don't want to hear that shit. Now... be a good girl and ride my cock." Your breath hitches at his words. Your walls clenching around nothing.

You nod. Lifting your hips. He lines his cock up with your entrance. Pushing the tip in. His hands holding your hips. "That's it. Just like that. Good girl. Take your time." He speaks between groans. Watching you as you slowly lower yourself down on his cock until he is bottomed out in you. You lift back up, then back down. Circling your hips. Starting to get into a rhythm. Riding his cock. Clenching your walls around him when the head of his cock hits that spot inside of you. Your action making Bradley grip your skin. His hand on your hip guiding you. His other hand moving to your hair. Pulling at it.

Kissing you. The kiss messy, wet and hot. His mouth moving down your neck. Biting your shoulder. Moaning out his name. Clenching around him. Beginning to move faster. All of it starting to become too much for Bradley. Your body pressed to his. Your breast bouncing in his face. Tight around his cock. Hearing his name being moaned. He does everything he can to try and make this last. To not immediately cum. Holding it back, trying to control himself. But your no better than him. That knot in your stomach coming back in a heartbeat. That heat growing back. The head of his cock hitting that spot repeatedly. Making your mind become cloudily. Your legs weak to the point they start shaking.

Your close. And you know he is too. His cock twitching in you. His groans becoming louder. His kisses becoming sloppy. You're both a mess. A mess over each other. He thrust his hips up. Meeting your movement. Starting to slam his cock into you. Pushing deeper inside of you. Filthy words coming from his mouth. His hands all over you. Moving from your thighs to your hips, your sides, your breast, your hair. Touching every part of your body he can get to. His hand going to your cunt. Pressing his finger to your clit. Rubbing harsh circles. Watching your head fall back.

"That's it. Uh, fuck. Come. Come all over my cock." He grunts. His hips getting sloppy. Knowing he won't be able to hold it together for much longer.

You do just as he says. Milking his cock. Your climax sending him into his. "Good girl. That's it. Uh, good girl." He fills you up with his cum. Shooting his seed deep in you. Starting to slow down, riding you both off of your high. Staying just like you are. You rest your forehead against his. His arms wrapping around your body. Holding you impossibly closer. You know as he holds you, that he is right. That he is right in every way. He has ruined you. You are his. And most of all, you did have a good time tonight. And you know you want to do this again. You see now that Bradley has opened up your eyes.

He moves his head away. Kissing you. He pulls out. Watching his come start to drip out of you. He looks up at you. Seeing your eyes already on him. Your lips starting to curl into a smile.

"What are you thinking about?" He tucks your hair behind your ear. Holding the side of your face.

"Just thinking about next Saturday. Same time? When I get off?" His smile grows.

"Yes ma'am." Bradley couldn't be happier than he is right now with you.

"Good. Cause I have plans for us."

"Is that so?" He tilts his head. His words teasing.

"Oh, yeah." You didn't think it was possible, but your smile somehow managed to grow.

Bradley grinned up at you. Holding you to him, he flips you on your back. Tenderly kissing your lips.

#bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw smut #bradley bradshaw fic #rooster smut #rooster top gun #rooster x reader #rooster imagine #top gun #top gun maverick #top gun smut #top gun imagine #top gun one shot #miles teller #dagger squad #top gun fandom

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vcrooster · 2 years

Text

Cherry Flavored

Smut & Some Angst.

Paring: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw & Reader (call sign: Cherry)

Word count: 4 k

Summary: All that Rooster needed to do was let out some steam.

Authors note: I don’t even know how I came up with this but I hope you like it <3. If you guys have any ideas you would like me to right about I’m all open for some requests.

***

Rooster didn’t even notice his arms were feeling sore until he was in the showers. He could hear the mix of all of the other guys voices, and all of them came to the same conclusion. Maverick had kicked everyone’s ass.

Including him. Twice.

He was so mad at himself. He should’ve taken the damn shot.

And fucking Coyote flirting with you since the call back isn’t really letting him be at his fullest.

You always politely declined him. Politely as in you said no thank you and he took it as a try harder.

And every time it took everything in Rooster not to tell him off.

All of the whistles had made him turn his head towards the door. “If it ain’t Cherry and Phoenix” Hangman said when saw you walk in the room.

The collar of your shirt still had sweat around it and your suit was half way undone.

You were one of the two female pilots that were recalled to Top Gun. Most of the time you got treated as equals, but they were moments like this where the guys were just being stupid.

You lock eyes with Rooster. He doesn’t hold it for more than a couple of seconds. “Don’t worry lady’s, we are out of here”. Hangman says, you are actually grateful that they’ve respected your privacy. “Showers are all yours”.

He seems irritated and upset. You can’t do anything about it right now, not in front of everyone.

You started to fool around with him a couple a years ago. Sneaking around, just letting some steam off was the whole purpose of it.

It wasn’t your intention to grow feelings for him. You both stayed together for the holidays, neither of you had families to go back to, so you kept each other company.

Rooster sure wasn’t expecting to find himself asking for you to give him a chance.

But how couldn’t he. Rooster was crazy over you.

The decision to keep it a secret was mutual. You didn’t want to risk a transfer to a different unit. Truth is you guys were a good team in the air, and you couldn’t trust anybody else to not get you killed up there.

“Come on Rooster, don’t try to get lucky” Harvard patted him on the back before leaving the room, without of course giving you a last glance.

“Are you messing around with Rooster?” Phoenix asked with a smirk on her face once they were alone.

“What?” No, no, no, she doesn’t know. “I’m not messing around with nobody”.

“You don’t sound so sure” she teases.

“Oh shut up”.

You feel somewhat unsteady when you get the sensation that she isn’t joking around. Shit, Phoenix is like a sister to Bradley, of course she’s going to know when something is off about him.

“Coyote and Hangman would be terribly heartbroken” honestly starts feeling like she is trying to get something out of you. “I can’t blame you though”.

Hangman would never admit to it sober, but during a late night drunk conversation with Phoenix it had slipped his mouth how he saw you almost naked in the showers.

It was an accident, genuinely.

He wasn’t a pervert he had just been stupid enough to forget his keys under his spare shirt in his locker.

Now maybe he wasn’t a good team player but he was sure a gentleman, nobody but Phoenix knew about it.

The image of you getting undressed had been the only thing helping him get off for the next week or so. He never made a move on you in a serious type of manner; however, he would occasionally flirt when he got a little too cocky.

“Whatever”. You answer.

You ignore her comments and head to take a shower. The warm water felt delicious over your skin. The training today has been hard— embarrassing you would say. You are supposed to be the best of the best, and here comes this guy that took everyone down with little to no effort.

But the 200 push-ups under the California sun were the worst part of it all. You really don’t want to complain, because Rooster had to do double of that.

You make sure to get done before Phoenix is. You hurry to your small designated room before she asks more questions and you get too annoyed at her.

It’s an hour till midnight when you go to Rooster’s room. You decided it was better to give him some time to cool off before you checked up on him.

“Hey” he doesn’t say anything he just moves aside to make room for you to come in.

You watch him walk back and take a seat at the edge of his bed. His face is painted with exhaustion, he’s still upset for what you could tell.

Your hand drops on his shoulder when you sit next to him, trying to give him some sort of comfort. “It’s alright Rooster, he smoked everyone else out there”.

“He pulled my papers”.

“What? Maverick?” You knew he had a rattle going on with him but he never mentioned why.

“He pulled my application on the naval academy” his voice was a mix of gloom and anger. “Set me back four years”.

“What you did today, you could’ve got yourself kicked out” You know how he lets anger blind him. He’s just a guy that lets his emotions get the best of him.

“Don’t worry about it—“

“I am” You slightly raise your voice, You’re not going to sit there letting him pity himself. Bradley is a great pilot he just needs to loosen up a little. “You can’t leave us flying with Hangman”.

“I’m sorry” he finally looks at you, you feel the palm of his hand gently squeeze your inner thigh.

“I don’t want you to apologize to me, I just want you to prove him wrong”.

He tucks a piece of hair behind your ear before leaning in, pressing his lips sweetly against yours.

They stay still for a second and pulls back, pressing his forehead on your own. You know that no matter how much time goes by, he’ll always be breathtaking to you.

You are the one that decides to make the next move. Wanting to make him feel good, help him relax a little. You move your lips gradually over his without any intention at first.

Slowly as you deepen the kiss you straddle his lap, his fingers immediately dig in the skin of your hips holding you steady, knowing your next move.

He knows it’s a bad idea to fuck you in the dorm rooms, shit, Yale and Coyote were sleeping in the rooms next to his, maybe he wouldn’t mind finally putting and end to Coyote insistence on you, but he knew it wasn’t the place or time.

Your fingers slide into his golden hair when his tongue meets yours. He isn’t trying to get carried away but he can help to get rid of your shirt completely when your hand gets lost inside his boxers.

His hands are roaming from your waist to your breasts. He covers them with his hands, squeezing them softly earning a moan from you.

It’s all it took for him to return to his senses.

“Wait, wait, babe wait” he sounds rushed as he’s trying to catch his breath again. “We can’t, not here”.

“Just relax” You shushed him.

“They’re going to hear us”. He’s doing his best to be the nice guy and stop you, but he’s had a shitty day and the idea of intimacy with his girl, was sounding very good at the moment.

He’s looking at you with expectant eyes, that’s all you need for you to kneel in front of him and tug the waistband of his boxers.

“You just gotta make sure you're very quiet then”.

Once your hand is around his cock he lets out a shaky breath. You work your hand along his shaft and seconds later his hand is on top of your own, guiding the speed. “A little slower”. The breathes out.

You do as he says. Your thumb brushes against his tip a couple of times, gaining a sigh from him. God, you love the sounds he makes.

“Feeling better?” You let out a giggle with a soft smile.

“Fuck yes” he groans.

You wrap your lips on him without warning, he throws back his head, hissing and moaning your name in what sounded like a whisper.

His fingers get tangled in your hair carefully undoing the tie holding your ponytail up. He has always loved you with your hair down. But what he loves the most is when he can just take it in a fistful for himself to guide your movements.

“You always take me so good baby” he grunts.

Rooster looks down on you. His eyes trail to your arched back and those boy shorts that barely covered your ass, all he can think is how good it looks from where he’s at.

That sight alone makes him lose his mind in between gasps and groans. It’s always so difficult for him to maintain eye contact when you always look so perfect. And it’s all just for him.

He moans getting all caught up in the moment, you don’t even pay attention to the tears forming in the corner of your eyes when he hits the back of your throat.

Your tongue swirls around his tip and your hand works on whatever you mouth can’t reach. He hissed pushing the hair off your forehead. “Fuck”.

His eyes meet yours right before he’s about to cum. His eyebrows are furrowed and his mouth slightly opened. He pulls himself out and next thing you feel is the warm strings covering your cleavage.

It takes a moment for him to compose his breath, meanwhile you clean yourself with the towel sitting on the chair next to his bed.

He tucks himself back in his boxers. He shifts in his twin size bed, lifting his body on his elbows.

He gets lost looking at the cherry tattoo on your shoulder, the reason you earned your call sign. He lets out a smirk remembering the time you were drunk and complaining that you wanted your call sign to be Echo, not the stupid tattoo you got when you’d just turned 18.

“Hey…” he reaches out for you making you fall on his lap.

You know he wants to return the favor when he turns you under him and starts kissing you hard. Fingers start to play on the waistband of your shorts teasing you. But you're not falling for it.

His lips trail off down your neck where he nips on the skin of your collar bones. “Oh no Bradshaw, I have to go”.

He yanks his head up looking a little lost. He completely forgot he was the one trying to stop you all along.

“Come on, just stay for a little bit”.

You smile at his childish actions. You know if you stay in his room you're ending up getting tangled in his sheets and to be honest it hasn’t been long since you guys had sex.

Truth is you ended up fucking him in some random motel after his little preformance in the Hard Deck.

“Unless you want to explain to Cyclone, why was I in your room all night Lieutenant Bradshaw” He smiles playfully kissing your jaw and lastly he leaves a soft kiss on your lips.

“I think I’m good on that one”.

“I thought so too”

You leave before it gets any later than it already is.

You hope that’s enough to get him off his thoughts for a bit– and a better mood.

And it works for what you could tell. It was all going alright but when it was his turn to do the exercise Maverick wasn’t exactly too constructive about it.

The best way to describe today’s training was no other than a shit show.

Maverick and Rooster had put on one hell of a performance in front of everyone. But what tied it all together was Hangman’s comments on Rooster's dad. To be more specific how he passed flying with Maverick.

“Hey!”. You yell at Hangman before he turns the corner.

“Cherry” He sighs “Your pretty little face is becoming more annoying every–“ you slap him across his face, you’d like to say you stopped there but before he could steady himself you push him against the wall. “Ouch”.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” your voice comes out more broken than strong. “His problems aren’t for you to broadcast in front of everyone”.

“Is it getting too personal with Rooster?”. He sounds pretty cynical and that smile painted across his face only made you angrier. “Because I have to say I thought I was more of your type”.

“You’re such a fucking asshole Jake”.

“Lighten up Cherry, Jesus”. He winks not before looking at you up and down. “I’m feeling a little jealous”.

“I swear–“

“Guys just stop” Phoenix interrupted you both before the situation escalated.

As soon as she says that you’re on your way to Bradley’s dorm. Phoenix tries to stop you to try and calm the situación down but it honestly comes out as more annoying than helpful.

You’re only knocking a couple of times on his door before he opens it.

His suit is half way undone, the arms are wrapped around his waist and he’s still clearly mad about the whole situation.

His eyes don’t soften as they usually do when he looks at you. In fact his hand is wrapped around your arm pulling you into his room.

“I’m so fucking over this shit” He tells you before you could say anything. “What does he fucking want me to do?”.

“Rooster…” he lets you reach out for his shoulder. You don’t want to say anything, he can be a real hothead when he’s mad, and honestly he’s had enough for today.

“And Hangman, fuck–“ He’s clearly very frustrated, you get, he’s feeling cornered and embarrassed, damn he almost hit the guy in front of the whole group.

“I slapped him just minute ago” you say and he chuckles slightly, the last reaction you thought you’d get from him right.

You hand finds his squeezing it gently.

He allows himself to relax a little. It’s just you, it’s always alright when he's with you.

He joins your lips with his before he thinks too much about it. He presses your back against the wood of the door, taking you by surprise. It takes you a moment to respond and sync up with his pace.

His lips feel rough over yours– desperate would be a better way to describe it. But he’s hurt, you at least could attempt to try and talk to him.

“Hey, we should –“ His head shakes denying anything you’re trying to say to him. He quickly shuts you up by pressing his mouth onto yours, harder this time. His tongue finds its way inside your mouth and you can’t help but to moan into his. “Rooster”.

He wants a distraction. And to be honest you could use one too. There was no point in resisting him.

The way you kiss him is almost in unspoken agreement between both of you. Your hands immediately shoot to his hair and down his neck.

“I need you baby”. He whispers on your skin. Shit alright.

Your hands start to untie the arms of his suit pulling it all the way down.

He straightens you up and his lips are on your neck, he nips the skin from that area until he manages to get a whimper out of your mouth. He smiles trying to catch a breath.

You push him off until the back of his knees hits his bed. He falls into the mattress lifting himself with his elbows. He looks at you impatiently for your next move.

You have to say the part you love the most of fucking with Rooster is the constant fight of who’s in charge.

And honestly Bradley can’t get enough of it either. The only thing rolling on his mind is how hot you look trying to handle him.

And shit, you looked even better stripping in front of him right now.

His gaze doesn’t leave you a single time. It follows you undoing your boots but he’s most excited when you slowly start to unzip your suit.

He reaches out to you trying to help you finish the job but he only gets pushed back into the mattress.

“Not yet” there is a small grin forming on his face by watching you step out of your suit. His eyes trail from your legs to your face. You’d stop being shy and nervous around him from the first couple of times sleeping with him. Fuck, you weren’t fully undressed and there he was hard as rock inside of his boxers.

You crawl over him and he still doesn't dare to touch you, his eyes never leave your own. You could still perceive a hint of the scent of musk and vanilla on him. Your knees stop when they reach his lap and you settle right on top of his cock.

“You’re going to have to give me a little more than that sweetheart” You chuckle having fun with him. Your palm pushes his chest down, you slowly start grinding on him, having him hiss right away “There we go”. Rooster groans.

You finally feel his tight grip on your hips making your pace faster. His hands trail up your sides lifting your shirt all the way up your rib cage until it’s off your body. The palm of his hand slides from your bellybutton to your breast squeezing and kneading them.

“Shit” he chokes out. He pulls you down, meeting him in a messy kiss. “I want to fuck you so badly already”.

He quickly puts on one of the condoms in his night stand before his mind drifts anywhere else.

“That eager Bradshaw?” that’s all it takes for him to hook his hands on the back of your thighs. He lifted you without a problem and in a second he had your back against the wall.

“You have no idea” He grinds a couple of more times on you adjusting your thighs around his waist making sure he has you how he wants you. “Hold tight babe”.

He stretched his neck up to keep his lips against yours moaning against them as he slammed into you again.

You are the one that guides him inside you, having you both gasp at the new sensation. Almost right away he is pounding hard into you leaving no time for you to adjust to him.

You have to steady yourself on his shoulders when you feel him go deeper. He bites the skin of your collarbone softly passing the tip of his tongue over it. He's always careful not to leave any sort of marks on you but this time he didn’t even care.

He gripped your thighs tightly when you clenched around him as the tip of his cock kept brushing on your sweet spot.

“Holy fuck–“ you say breathlessly.

He knows that you guys aren’t loud enough for someone else to hear. But he can’t help to like the thought of you moaning his name for everyone to hear that you're his.

Your face hides in the crook of his neck leaving open mouth kisses along it, loving the sensation of his moans vibrating against his throat.

Your eyes glide down taking a look at where your bodies are joined. The pleasure building inside you starts to feel a little overwhelming, your thighs tense up and your forehead ends up resting over his “Rooster”. It comes out more like a plead than you intended and it drives him crazy.

“I know baby”. He whispers.

He jerks you up in a sudden move, his arm on your waist holding you tighter against him. He’s thrusting faster and harder than before. Your nails dig into the skin of his shoulder blades in an attempt to hold on to him as best as you can.

It almost feels as if he is pulling out completely as he slams as deep and hard as he can into you.

You got so lost into him that you almost didn’t realize that you were about to cum. “Are you almost there?” He asks and you can bring yourself to answer so the only response you can give him is a desperate whimper.

He pounds a few more times and it finally explodes on you. He’s kissing you to drown the moans you're making. And he keeps doing it while he’s finally coming. It hits him harder than he thought it would, he feels like he's melting into you.

You take a moment to look at him. You’re sure he’s the most handsome guy you’ve seen in your life. God, you’re so in love with him.

You stay with him until he falls asleep. He usually doesn’t sleep very well but his soft snoring filled the room not too long after.

You leave his room making sure to set his alarm for the morning.

It wasn’t late so seeing Maverick waiting outside your door didn’t surprise you that much.

“Lieutenant Metcalf” You felt he was angry. Part of you was glad he wasn’t disappointed.

You’ve known him for a long time, your grandfather was his instructor when he was in Top Gun. You’d occasionally check on him throughout the years but never were exactly close to him, not like he is– or was– with Rooster.

“Are you here to lecture me?” You weren’t intending to come out as defensive as you did.

“No, but it’s not that hard to put one and two together”. He’s still irritated from training and you can’t blame him. “I should kick one of you off the team” his arms were crossed over his chest.

The thing about Maverick is that you knew no matter how bad his ass was in the line he would always have the back of the people he loved.

“Are you?” He tried to ignore the obvious fact that you look like you just got fucked despite your efforts of trying to clean your self up.

“That’s up to you”. His voice got softer. “Get some rest Cherry”.

“Yes sir”.

Contrary to Rooster, you kept tossing and turning in the bed all night. Your mind just kept on wandering off to what could happen to Bradley and you once Maverick was out of the picture.

You really didn’t want to think of the possibility of not flying with him anymore.

Best thing for now is to keep your hands off each other and hope for the best.

That was until you were headed to the beach the very next day and the hickeys on your tits were very visible with the sports bra you were planning to wear.

You would’ve gotten away with the simple white shirt you used as your cover up if Coyote and Hangman hadn't decided to be funny and pulled you and Phoenix to the water making your shirt very see through.

“Damn Cherry, you should've told me I was being too hard last night”. Jake pointed out sarcastically at the now visible dark marks on your chest. “You know how much I hate putting on a show”.

“I bet you do Hangman” Rooster said, coming up towards you, helping you out of the water and draping his hawaiian shirt on your shoulders and wrapping one of his hands on your waist lifting you to his side.

He didn’t care that all eyes were on you guys, but shit, Cyclone didn’t have to show up right at that moment.

You knew you were fucked when he whispered to Maverick.

“What’s going on with those two?” He pointed out to both of you.

“They must be very competitive sir”.

#bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster #rooster angst #rooster one shot #rooster smut #rooster top gun #top gun #top gun maverick

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