#bradley bradshaw x female oc

[floydsglasses]

𝘼 𝙒𝙝𝙞𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙧 𝙉𝙤𝙩 𝘼 𝙔𝙚𝙡𝙡 - Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw (A Quiet Place AU)

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x AFAB OC/ Valerie

SUMMARY: Society has fallen to ruin's where silence is key to survival in a world where most humans have been killed by blind but noise-sensitive creatures. Two unlikely survivors come across each and agree to stick together.

Tag's: Mention of blood/wounds, post apocalyptic setting, use of ASL, Alien creatures. Stranger's to Lover's, Angst, Swearing, Fluff, inacurate first aid, No Use of Y/N A/N: First Story on tumblr, I hope that I did this right and hopefully I didnt mess thing's up too much

WORD COUNT: 7,731

⏁⏁⏁

SOUND. What once was so common is now almost extinct as the human race. The birds no longer flew in the sky, car alarms didn't blast loudly with a touch of a button, soft chatter’s from conversation now replaced with howling of the wind. Everything before was so simple, it was so easy, she didn't have to worry about the sound of leaves crunching under her feet, closing a door too hard, letting out a breath too hard. Now one wrong move in this world, a person’s life is gone in less than a whisper.

Her hand’s trailed over the isles of abandoned goods, she used to love going to the supermarket, seeing people and having a nice conversation with the cashier, kind smile’s.

Now a trip into town is so dreaded, the world is so quiet and it’s almost insufferable to her. Though she would much rather prefer the silence of the world then the harsh darkness of death from the predator's who now ruled the world.

She looks down at her grocery list, written on the back of the brochure for a navel bar, The Hard Deck. Before day 1 of the end of the world, she worked at a cafeteria in a nursing home, after rough day’s she would sometime’s sit at the bar with a bottle of beer. At the moment she much preferred the sound of the man she could catch glimpses of the few night’s playing 60’s tune’s on the piano. She assumed anyone she once knew is gone now.

She slide’s the can of food into her messenger bag, making sure not to stock up too much on the cans, learning the hard way that too much noise will attract the monsters.

Her bare feet smack the ground of the white tiled floor as she turned onto the next aisle.

Food rations were running low for her, and it didn't help that nowhere was safe enough for her. Walking around a desolate San Diego without shoe’s also wasn't ideal. Pain killers, she thought .

A few weeks ago she tripped on the sidewalk, skidding her knee and thigh, not something she would recommend handling without pain killers.

The snap of glass pulls her out of her thought’s. The hair on her arm stood to attention as her heart pounded in her rib cage, eye’s widened fearfully. Her hand grazed her knife holster, gripping the ebony handle. She had never handled a weapon for the purpose of hurting another human, not before this new world began.

Her breath shake’s as she lightly step’s around the corner. Unsheathing the blade from her waist. Monster’s were not the only threat in the world, the people, rumors at least swirled of groups of people calling themselve’s Bandits ruled parts of the city. She had not ventured that far, she was hell bent on finding somewhere away from the city, anywhere that was safe.

She huffed, swinging her blade as she rounded the aisle corner. She panted, her head darting in each direction. All that remained were leaves blown in from the broken front door, a few item’s laid on the ground.

She shook her head. Paranoia much. She rolled her eye’s, putting her knife back into its holster. You know you are totally crazy. Her bare feet turned on the edge to go back to her original isle.

Her arm’s smack into a metal stand, it began to fall to the floor. She gasped quickly trying to stop its descent. Its pamphlet’s crashed with metallic bang. Her eyes widened in horror as her heart raced, blood drained from her face.

Oh God, she panicked. Roar’s in the distance began to cry out at the sound. She stood frozen in fear, panting as she desperately fought against her sense telling to hide.

She let out a gasp as she was brought to the floor. She expected to be met with darkness, her eye’s closed tight awaiting the pain from the sharp talon’s of the creature’s that ruled the quiet world.

Shhh. A voice whispered next to her ear, their hot breath sending shivers down her spine. Her heart pounded. Her back was held closely to something..someone.

Her arm’s radiated with warmth, mostly from fear. Could the stranger be holding her back so they can save their own skin, or did they have something else in mind.

No time can pass in her mind as clicking began to fill the supermarket. Footsteps heavy on the tile, a hissing sound filled the air. The stranger behind her shuddered at the sound’s, the two of them both equally fearful.

Click Click.

They sounded. The dark silhouette casted on the ceiling above them on the white bar’s. The stranger’s hand clamped over her mouth as her panting grew erratic, she stood still not daring to move, even with the tight grip around her body from the stranger.

The click’s began to get closer to them, the footsteps heavier with each step. Their dark gray skin tight as their gorilla like movement helps them traipse across the tile. Their flower-like head’s turn slowly in each direction. She guessed they were looking for any sound.

She gulped as she held her breath, restricting her air. Hoping it will limit any sound she may be making, even with the help of the person holding her. She was sure that she was louder then what she may be stopping.

On her spine, a light thump was against her back. Rhythmically repeating at a rapid pace, similar to her own.

The creature’s head twitched with each click from its mouth, searching for her. Its heavy footsteps thudded against the ground as it walked on all fours.

A single tear trailed down her cheek, the heat from the stranger’s hand made the pool of sweat on her forehead fall. With a final twitch of its head, it let out an inhuman, ear piercing roar. A swift move the monster ran out of the supermarket.

A sigh of relief left her lip’s. The calloused hand left her mouth, her shoulders relaxed briefly. Her eyes widened, she reached for the holster that held her knife. A tight grip on wrist stopped her. From the size of his hand, she could tell he was a man, one who worked with his hand’s from the vein’s that popped.

He held on tightly onto her wrist as he got to his feet. Her heartbeat had not stopped racing, adrenaline pumped through her veins. She snapped her head, she had been ready to throw insult’s in, her head at least.

She looked the man up and down. His dirty blonde hair, messy and short. His dark brown eyes scanned her, maybe he saw her as a threat. Though he clearly had a chance of overpowering her. Above his chapped lips laid a thin line of facial hair, she wondered how long it took him to grow it.

He released her hand, putting his hand’s up in surrender. “Who are you?” She signed to him frantically, he blinked at her panicked state. He shook his head.

“I'm not gonna hurt you.” He reassured her she scrunched her nose up.

“Did you follow me?” She signed slowly. He shook his head.

“I was here before you.” The man stated in sign. “Bullshit!” She signed, her brows furrowed in anger.

“I swear.” He swore. In their silent world, she was thankful that she had taken the time prior to learning ASL. She wouldn't have thought it would be useful in a post apocalyptic setting.

Her shoulders relaxed, her jaw remained clinched. “Listen, to me please.” He pleaded with her, she crossed her arms.

He bent down on his knees leaning over grabbing a blue and yellow pamphlet, the world's map of San Diego written in a white font.

He began to carefully unfold it, placing objects on the corner to keep it straightened out. He looks up at her. “Marker?” He signed.

She furrowed her brow, she shook her head no. “What are you doing?” She signed to the stranger.

“Showing you something.” He signed, he looked around at the old store, smirking. He lightly stepped across the tiled floor.

She noted the duct tape on his boot’s, tear’s and rip’s in the leather in each curve, she supposed he had placed the tape to absorb the sound, she hadnt even thought about it.

Beginning to make mark’s on the map, taking pauses to think. His lip’s formed a thin line, he looked at her.

“You see that?” He signed, she shook her head.

“The Circle’s?” She signed to him, even in sign language he could detect the sarcasm she laid on. He gesture’s with two finger’s for her to get down to his level. She bends down to her knees, getting a closer look.

“You see it now?” He signed, she shook her head. He gently grabbed her hand, using his index finger pointing to the center. A green and beige island in the ocean, half a mile from the North Island docks. Her brows furrowed.

“What is that?” She signed. He blinked. “Island, not far from the bay, safe.” He says in sign language, she shook her head.

“Nowhere is safe.” She says.

“You don't know that.” He says, he motioned in frustration. “And you do?” She pointed out.

“Come with me.” He signed, she shook her head at his offer. “No, I don't know you.” She says.

“So..we can help each other.” He tells her, she shook her head in disbelief.

“I don't need your help.” She reassured him, she had gotten pretty far into the two year’s they have been in the apocalypse. His jaw dropped slack.

“You sure?” He challenged, and she nodded her head.

“Look, I can see you don't trust me.” He signed, she shrugged in agreement.

“But If you want to not live in fear of making a noise.” He paused with his hand’s up, he breathed out quietly. Her heart skipped a beat, looking at the brown eye’s of the stranger.

“Then come with me and see if it’s true.” He says.

She crossed her arms over her chest. She eyed the broken object’s on each side of the isle’s. The man in front of her offered her safety, and it had been so long since she last talked with another human being. He had saved her from being alien bait.

“Okay.” She signed to him. He breathed in relief at agreeance.

“One condition.” She state’s, he nodded his head.

“If it turns out to be fake.” She start’s. His gaze on her softened.

“We go our separate ways.” She sign’s, he nods his head.

“Deal.” He signed. The both of them got to their feet, he shuffled, folding up the map and stuffing it away. She lightly picked up her fallen backpack, she still needed supplies.

His brown eyes watched her. Before the alien had crashed in he had caught glimpses of her through the broken shelves. Her hair tucked into a beanie, a windbreaker jacket and jeans, no shoes though. Her own survival tactic he guessed, she seemed focused on her objective of getting what she needed.

“What’s your name?” He ask’s her, she gulps hesitating. She lifts up her hand’s and begin’s to sign out her name.

“Valerie.” She mouthed to him. He smirked. “You?” She asks back.

He runs a hand through his hair, he raises up his hands, slowly signing out the letter’s of his name. “Bradley.”

⏁⏁⏁

THE NEXT FEW days the two survivors had grown close, well as close as two people can when they are only using sign language to communicate.He would fumble on his signing that she would have to guess what he had said.

Her legs ached on each side, they had been making their way out of the inner city, following the highway to the marina. If car’s didn't risk the chance of them being caught their trip would take twenty minutes, now it would be a three day trip on foot, not including them avoiding the creature’s.

Valerie sighed, the morning sun of december shined on the two of them. The sun was high enough she could guess it was eleven in the morning. Bradley and her would both take turns with a large machete, it was heavy in her hand’s that most of the time he was the one welding it.

She feel’s a tap on her shoulder, she turned her head at him. “Are you hungry?” Bradley signed, she shook her head. “No.” She signed.

“I have a fruit cocktail, if you do get hungry.” He signs, her lip’s forming a thin line, smiling softly at his chivalry. She brushed a piece of her hair from her face, the bitter air whipping at her cheeks.

“Thank you.” Valerie say’s. She had grown tired of their small talk;most conversations that had gotten out of one another were about if they were okay, how far they were from their location, and where they should stop to rest.

Not that she didn't appreciate his worry for her, they had to rely on each other if they wanted to make sure they would see the next sunrise. She crossed her arms in her windbreaker, the two walked past run down car’s. Nature had started to reclaim her own, the highway’s covered in greenage and rust set into the metal of the high rise.

“Hey.” She stops him, he turns to look at her, keeping the same pace. “What?” He wondered.

“Before this.” She start’s off, looking away thinking of a question to break the ice. “What did you do, your job?” She ask’s. He runs fingers through his blonde hair in though.

He point’s to the sky, using two finger’s to trace along the white cloud’s. She furrowed her brow trying to understand him. “You..worked in the sky?” She signed.

“A pilot?” Valerie signs, he nods his head. He point’s up again, using two finger’s as a gun.He shot in the sky, she thinks, her eye’s widening as she understands him now.

“Top..gun.” She signed slowly.

“Yeah, and you?” He ask’s, she shakes her head. His job was definitely more eventful than hers. She cleaned table’s, served plates out to elderly people, and sometimes she would deliver to room’s.

“I worked in a cafeteria.” She signed to him. “Kind of boring.” She tells him, he shook his head.

“That’s not boring, that's simple.” Bradley reassured her, she shook her head. “You got to fly in the sky..All I did was serve soup.” Valerie says to him

“I would have loved that.” He tells her. “There were times I just wanted thing’s to be slow.” He admitted to her, she furrowed her brow at his admittance.

“Why did you join then?” Valerie wondered. He sighed, her eye’s drifting down at the grass growing through the cracking line’s of the highway. He gulped as they continued to walk on.

“I just had to.” He says. She nodded her head, she guessed it was a story she had to hear by mouth, which she was sure she would never hear.

“Long story short?” She signed to him, he shrugged his shoulders. “How far are we?” Valerie wonder’s.

“We passed about two, maybe three gas stations.” He tells her, she scoff’s, she hadn't taken the time to note the landmark’s, only keeping in mind how long it will take to get to their destination.

“They all look the same.” She says.

“Everything does.” Bradley remark’s, his movement’s in his hands are slower. She noted that his signing was slower than hers, she guessed he wasn't as fluent or quick in ASL like she is.

“How far from the marina do you think we are?” Valerie asked him, his brow’s furrowed, he looked around at the street signs. He pulls the map from his bag, placing it lightly on a rundown car hood, bringing the red sharpie marking off on it.

“We were at Amo’s street and now we are on 163.” He signed to her. She stands close to him looking down at the map. He had taken the time to mark off on each site they passed.

“Okay and how much further?” She wonder’s. His brown eye’s look at the map. “Fourteen miles .” He guessed

“Seriously?” She ask’s, she dropped her hand’s at her side in frustration. ”I think you are pulling my boob.” She joke’s, he furrowed his brow at her signing, got to teach him some thing’s.

“It's only been a few day’s.” He point’s out, she rolled her eye’s. A few day’s in this world was a lifetime with how long it takes to travel.

“Feel’s longer.” She remarked.

“You can still get leave.” He reminds her, she sighed. He was right, she didn't have to stick with him, they could part way’s now and hope for the best.

Though it was nice to have someone to care about, knowing that when she woke up that someone was going to be waiting for her. In the world before she had thrown herself into her work, claiming it was her mistress. She hadn't given herself time for relationships, and frankly they never gave time to her either. No need to waste her energy in a world that seemed so bleak.

“We’ve gotten this far.” Valerie reminds him.

“We finish what we have started.” She signs to him. Her eye’s hardened with determination, he smirked at her ambition.

“If we keep walking we should get close enough to the bay area.” He summarized. “What about sleeping?” She asked him, his shoulder’s slump, as if to let out a sigh.

He put his hand in a salute looking at the skyline in front of them. Building’s once filled the sky high reflecting from the glass now covered in vine’s, some had crashed down. Slashed from the claw’s and talon’s of the sound seeking creature’s. She often wondered how it must have felt to watch from above seeing everyone going about their lives. They must have looked like ant’s compared to them.

“There.” He point’s

“You wanna go there?” Valerie asked him, he nodded his head.

“That’s far.” She mouthed to him, he furrowed his brow’s

“So is the marina.” He signs, he point’s to the top of the building. “If we get high enough we can see how far we are.” He tells her. Her heart thumped as it raced

“Can't we just go to a motel?” She wonder’s, he shook his head confused. “Thought you wanted to see how far we are?” He ask’s, she gulped.

“Just the height is intimidating.” Valerie tell’s him. He smirked amused at her fear. “The world has ended and you are afraid of heights?” He signed to her, she rolled her eyes.

“No, I'm afraid of a creature climbing a high rise to kill me.” She state’s.

“I won't let that happen.” He promised her, his signing in the end being wrong. She shook her head.

“Give me your hand.” She orders. He furrowed his brow. She guides his hands, moving them in the right motion’s, mouthing what they are. “That’s how you do it.” Valeria corrects him.

“Thank’s.” He signs. She smiled softly, she swung her backpack up further. “Come on.” She usher’s him, her heart pounding looking at the sun peaking through the two towers.

⏁⏁⏁

SHE HAD DECLARED it she hated height’s. Even more than before she climbed the eighteen floor’s of the forty one floors of the Pacific Gate. She had always wondered what it must have been like to stay in the extractive type hotels. She had grown up in Virginia, in a rural town mile’s from the urban city, she had come to Calafornia chasing a dream that sadly fell through.

Her fingers grazed the chipped paint on the wall, the pearl white had turned brown from the age and vine’s had grown in the hall’s into the room’s. They had luckily found a room that wasn't terribly covered in the reclaimed nature. Bradley had insisted that they stay close to each other, both taking a watch.

Though they doubted that anyone or anything would find them up there, unless they made a sound. He kept to himself mostly, she wondered before the end of the world had he been a social person, like her. She could see from his choice in wardrobe, a Hawaiian shirt underneath his black jacket that he certainly had a taste. His tan skin almost kissed by the sun herself, had he gotten it from all their walking, maybe he had it before the world went quiet.

Her feet step on the ripped up dark blue carpet. The sun had set on the city and the moon had shone over the window’s of the balcony. A warm orange glow lit the room from her lantern. He laid on the bed, white ear bed’s in each of his ears, plugged into an old IPod nano. His brown eyes focused on the world outside.

She stands next to the white unmade sheet’s. A buffalo plaid blanket laid on top, she had insisted that she take the couch on the other side. She had noticed he had been limping up the step’s, knowing that the fancy hotel probably had a mattress that would make him feel better. He refused, if she could she would have let out a frustrated yell.

She tap’s his shoulder, he shuddered at the touch from her, he snapped his head in surprise. His finger’s grazing the knife holster on his leg.

“Sorry.” He signed.

She shook her hand. “It's Okay.” Valerie take’s the seat spot next to him, keeping a distance between the both of them.

“How did you get that?” She asks, pointing at the old technology, he smirked looking down at the blue case, a smiley face sticker on the back that slowly chipped away.

“It’s mine.” He states, she nodded her head.

“It still works?” She asks curious, she hadn't used one in years, preferring streaming from her phone.

His pink chapped lips formed a thin line. “Yeah, all my music from college.” He tells her, his signing is still slow.

“Anything good?” Valerie wonder’s, he shrugged his shoulders. He handed it to her to look at, she held up the screen, beginning to scroll with the control’s, clicking with each movement of her thumb. His music taste ranged from almost every decade up until 2012. She was almost surprised with the variety of choices’ he had at the tip of his fingers’, she looked down sadly, she hadn't heard music in what felt like an eternity, she can't even recall the last thing she had listened to on day one of their new world order.

She stops scrolling. Her eyes widened at the song, Jerry Lee Lewis’s, Great Balls of Fire. A soft smile creased her cheek’s. Lonely nights in the bar were less lonely when everyone around her began to sing the sixtie’s jaunty tune. She brought her hand to her mouth.

His brows furrowed at her reaction. “What?” He signed. She shook her head.

“Nothing, it's just.” She stops looking down again, her thumb grazing the play button. “There was a guy at this bar.” He perked up, his brows furrowed.

“He played this on the piano.” She recall’s, smiling softly. His eyes widened, his lip’s parting as his thoughts raced.

“Yeah every saturday..guess he is gone now.” Valerie signed sadly, she brushed back a piece of her hair.

Bradley had finally realized something. In the store, he saw her through the broken isles and fallen objects. He could have swore it was his mind finally playing tricks on him, until he caught a glimpse of her face.

There were night’s he would go into the Hard Deck. She would sit in the same spot each night, order the same drink, she always seemed to have her mind on anything but where she was. He had been curious who she was, why was she always in her head. He did plan to talk to her, only any time he got the courage to talk to her, she would get up and leave before he could get a chance to speak.

He pulls one of the white ear buds out of his ear, handing it to her. She looked down at his hand, taking it from him, placing it in her ear, pressing the play button. She flinches at the sudden piano playing. He chuckled quietly.

She rolled her eyes playfully. She began bobbing her head slowly, trying not to move her head too much. The two of them doing different motion’s to the music, if she was alone she would be all over the place, dancing on the mattress belting her lung’s out. He bites his lips, closing his eyes, thinking of better times.

Valerie mouthed the lyrics, leaning her head back at the chorus. She shakes her shoulders leaning into him trying to get him to join in with her. Bradley smirked at her happiness, the two of them tried everything to bond. Seeing the other experiencing something other than fear made his heart flutter.

He begin’s tap with his finger’s the note’s of the piano. Recalling the filling of the key’s under his finger’s, each movement a phantom at his tip’s. Valerie hold’s her fist as a mock microphone as she mouthed the final lyrics.

An inhuman screech fills the air echoing off the city. Her heart raced, wiping her head to look at the balcony. She shook her head. Figure’s she thinks’. The world outside was still as bleak as ever. Her smile fell as she glanced down.

“I’ll take my first watch.” She signed to him. His brow’s furrowed. Her shoulders tensed as she stood to attention, pulling her jacket closer. She turns on her heels to walk.

“Wait”. she hears a faint whisper escape’s his lip’s. He reached out, taking her hand in his calloused one. Their eyes locked as his face softened.

“Stay.” He pleads

She gazed at him. He had before insisted that they stay in separate rooms so the other had the chance of escaping while the other could too. Now here he begged for her to not leave him alone. Was he really scared this time, did he need that comfort of knowing in the room he wasn't alone.

“Of course.” Valerie signed. He gulped, running his hand through his unkempt honey curls. He laid back down. Placing his headphones back in his ear, leaving one out one for her to hear the music he played.

Bradley stayed awake for as long as he could, fighting hard against the sleepiness in his body, losing in the end. Soft snoring escaping his lip’s. Valerie formed a soft grin at his peacefulness, the both had seen so much, so many things lost and so many stolen from each of them.

She leaned over him, pulling a navy blue blanket over his chest. He turns in sleep, not waking. Hopefully he dreamed, anywhere that wasn't there must be better. Her eyes grew heavier and heavier as she stared at the quiet city. She wiped away the feeling from her eye’s.

Desperately battling against her own body clock, she groaned softly, wiping her cheek’s. Just shut your eye’s for a moment, the last word’s she thinks before her head hits the pillow and the world becomes dark.

⏁⏁⏁

SHE SCRIBBLED THE WORD on the notepad. The two had grown bored on their adventure to the marina.  Valerie had been sneaking around the Pacific gate, and found a white board for Bradley to use to communicate.  Thinking it would make their communicating easier, as his ASL was slow, and now she could properly tease him. 

“A.” He signed, she smirked, shaking her head. They had started playing the game hangman in to past time, they weren't far from the marina, having woken up late didn't help the ground they would have to make up. 

He rolled his eyes as she drew another body part to the stick figure. She licked her lips as she waited for another guess. She had won the last five round’s of the game and him once, to be fair she didn't blame him for not being good at guessing games when there wasn't anyone to give hints verbally. 

“C.” He guessed, she nodded her head writing the letter on the white board. He pumped his fist, the machete in the other, his turn as her hands were preoccupied with the marker. 

“I hate this.” He signs, she smirks at him.  “You just suck.” She teased him, he pulls out a tiny notepad, writing down in big letters. He holds it up to her. 

“You have a lot of sass for a girl with no shoe’s.” It read, her eyes widened at the comeback. She uses her hoodie sleeve wiping off a bit of their game writing. 

“And who’s idea was that mustache?”She wondered. His lip’s parted agape. “You love it.” He signs, she shakes her head. “Fuck off no I dont.” She write’s down. He holds up his own notepad. 

“Everyone loves it, baby.” His read’s, she rolled her eye’s. “Not me.” She gesture’s. He scoffs silently. 

“Wanna find out why?” He challenged her, licking his chapped lips. She looked at the hair above his lip, his facial hair being a stand out to the rest of his features, other than his well built physique. His blonde hair is curly on the top and shaved on the neck, unkempt yet somehow it still made him look even more handsome. 

“No thanks.” She smiled softly.  She looks down at her whiteboard, wiping it off again. “Keep guessing.” She urged him. 

He runs his hand through his curl’s. “P” He sign’s. She looks at him disappointed, adding another limb to the stick man.

“That’s two arm’s.” Valerie point’s out. He shook his head. His step’s halt as he look’s up. “What?” She ask’s, her eye’s scan his sight seeing what he stopped for. Her heart stop’s in her throat as it began to race. 

Hundreds of boat’s laid out in front of them on the waterfront, docked in their areas. Some fell prey to nature while some still remained. 

Her breath shaked, she looked to the man next to her. Tears filled both their eyes, they had finally made it after so many long hours of walking, and dodging alien’s they reached their destination. 

“Come on.” Valerie urged him. 

She turned on her heels quickly scurrying to the stairs that lead down to the docks. He followed closely behind her as the both of them desperately raced for the nearest boat’s. Her feet pound against the wood as she stop panting looking around at their option for travel. 

“Which one?” She asked him. He put his hand on hips trying to catch his breath. 

“Anything with a cabin.” He writes on his notepad, she nods her head. 

She walked around each boat, checking each for a key. She doubted that any of them would be filled with gasoline, much less run. For the most part they were almost all sailboat’s, and small yachts. She had never been on a boat, well one as big as the one’s parked in the water. She had gone fishing before with her uncles in the past, though she knows a small boat wouldn't get them to the island they needed something better. 

The wood creaked as she stepped back down again.  Valerie walk’s back around to the other dock, he stood with his arms crossed irritated. 

“That bad.” She joke’s. 

“I'll check again.” She tells him. He shrugged. “Be my guest.” He signed to her. The dock creaked again as with the heavy step of her foot. She gasps as a sharp pain in his felt in her thigh. She snapped her head looking down, a long black stick stuck out of her, piercing through pant leg. 

A scream of anguish left her mouth as hot fire pain ran up and down her leg. She collapsed onto the dock groaning loudly, her eyes widened as her hot tears welled.

Bradley ran to her side, putting his hand over her mouth, muffling her scream. Valerie cried as she tried to pull the arrow out.

“Don't do that.” He whispered to her. She whimpered, leaning her head back. 

He grunt’s as a cold metal graze’s his neck. Her eyes widened as another man behind him held a knife to the blonde’s throat. Two men dressed in ragged clothes, walk slowly behind him and stand above her, her heart racing in fear. Bradley slowly get’s to his feet, lifting his hand’s up in surrender. The man nod’s his head at the two men. The grab Valerie under her arm’s bringing her to her feet, she groaned quietly. A woman walks around, forcing a bandana around her mouth silencing her, she walks around. 

Her cold eye’s analyzing both of them. No one dared to speak, she slowly paced around them. She removes a rope from around her waist, standing behind Bradley. She smirked, shooting dagger’s at Valerie. She grunt’s wrapping the rope around his neck, pulling it tightly. He gasped for air pulling at the rope that cut into his neck. He groaned as the man behind him forced him to turn around, beginning to drag him across the wooden dock. 

Valerie grunted against the two men’s arm’s, her heart raced as she watched him struggle, clawing at his captor.  The woman from before circle’s her, looking the restrained girl up and down, vulture to its prey.  She point’s with her knife at the end of the dock. 

She pant’s in fear, gritting her teeth. Her eye’s went to his kicking leg’s, a black leather strap on his leg laid a metallic flicker of the sun. Her brows furrowed as she understood what to do. She stomps on the wood. 

The woman in front of her raised her brow’s at her action. Bradley looked at her, she stomped again, gesturing to her leg. He grunted twisting around trying to slow the man behind him, he strained as he grunt’s pulling him closer to the water. Valerie stomp’s her foot again, slapping thigh again. 

His brown eyes darted to his own leg. The black leather sheath with his initials in the working laid his brown bowie handled knife. He reached with one hand, the other fighting the rope at his throat. His finger’s link through the hole in the handle, pulling it out. 

Valerie met the eye of the woman leader. She smirked as her confusion grew. She grit’s through her teeth, extending her leg kicking the woman in the face, she stumbled back falling over onto the dock. She huffed, grabbing the handle in her holster, unsheathing her blade plunging it into the man behind her groin. 

The man hollered out in pain. His scream echoing off the city. Screech and roar’s sound alert at the sudden disruption of their perfect world. The man with the rope looked up with wide eyes, his distraction end’s as a sharp cut is felt to his stomach. 

He released the rope. Bradley got to his feet, he grunted as he balled his fist and swung it into the man’s face. Valerie grabbed one of the men by their shoulders, plunging her blade into his chest, he groaned in agony. 

Shoving him away from her. Blood rushed through her ear’s as the creature’s cry’s began to get closer to them all. Valrie grunted limping, holding her thigh, crimson brown leaking through her jean’s onto the wood. She gritted her teeth trying to move as fast as her injury would let her get.  Behind her she could hear the clicking of the alien, as well as its talon slicing through a body. 

Bradley pulled the man against the dock post, pulling the rope tight as he fought against him.  

“Fuck you.” He whispered into the man’s ear, he jammed the knife into the killer's gut. He let out a cry of agony, the creature’s hollers cutting in with his. 

Valerie ducked out of the way, her head slamming hard into the wood. The former pilot dove into the water as the man was tackled into the bay water. 

Her vision blurred as she looked to the sky above. She gasped for breath, panting as hot flashes ran through her body. The world around faded in and out, eventually turning dark.

⏁⏁⏁

HER BODY ACHED. Never in her life had she felt this tired, each side of her felt like they were under rushing water, slowing her with fatigue and aches. Her eyes fluttered open as she took in her surroundings, the room around her rock back and forth, small and walled with dark oak. She groaned looking down at her leg. 

The arrow was gone, the pain lingered. Her pant leg was cut open, a part of her maroon brief’s visible. A white bandage wrapped around her thigh, a bit of blood stained brown on her leg. She pant’s as she looked all around her, she didn't recognize where she was at all. “Valerie, it's okay.” A deep voice spoke clearly, her heart skipped a beat. She whipped her head, he got to her side sitting on an ottoman close to the wall. His blonde hair dripped with water, though the rest of his clothes remained dry. 

She stuttered for a moment. “I got the arrow out but I had to dig around the tip.” Bradley inform’s her, crossing his hands over his lap. 

“You bled a lot, and you kept waking up each time I tried to remove it.” He says to her. The glow from the bedside lamp illuminated his features onto the oak of the room.  His brown eyes meet her widened one’s, he furrowed his brow. 

“Are you okay, what’s wrong?” He asked in concern. She shook her head.

“Nothing, it's just.” She gulp’s. 

“I haven't heard you speak before.” She admits, his gaze softened on her.  There were moments she could catch glimpses of his voice when he mouthed words, it was much deeper then what she had thought it was. 

“Where are we?” Valerie asks him. He gulps, clearing his throat.

“Couple mile’s out from the bay, the creature drowned itself so it didn't follow us.” He reassures her, she nods her head. 

“How far from the island are we?” She wonder’s, he shrugged his shoulders as though.

“About five miles, give or take.” He inform’s her, she listens hearing the sound of water slushing around, she was on a boat. 

“They can't swim, and it’s raining right now, so it’s safe to talk.” He tells her. She groans as she holds her thigh sitting up. He gets to her side. “Hey Hey take it easy.” He soothed her. 

“I'm fine.” Valerie state’s, he shakes his head.  “You were shot with an arrow and lost a lot of blood.” He reminds her. 

“You said you were a fighter pilot, not a nurse.” She teased with a weak laugh. He rolled his eyes at her comments.  “Gonna take a lot more than an arrowhead to take me out.” She tells him. 

“Clearly.” He chuckled. “Listen, what happened back there.” She start’s, he holds up his hand for her to stop. “Dont..its okay, its over.” 

“No, I'm sorry.” Valerie say’s softly, shaking her head. His brows furrowed in confusion at her guilt.  “We didn't know they were there, it's fine.” He assured her. 

“No I meant I should have done more, I should have swallowed my pain and killed him.” She ranted, biting her lip as she thought about all of it. 

“It’s not your fault, none of that was your fault.” Bradley says to her. “They were gonna kill you.” Valerie stammer’s out, she wiped her eye’s. “And you saved me.” He reminded her, and she shook her head. 

“You did, I wouldn't have remembered my knife if you hadn't been there.” Bradley admit’s. He stands up, sitting on the gray sheets of the bed she laid on. His plaid shirt unbuttoned, underneath he wore a black shirt.  

“They would have drowned me, and killed you.” He tells her.

“Valerie you saved me, you did.” He declares strongly. He glanced down at her bare thigh. Shiver ran down her body as goosebumps painted her arms. Her heart skipped a beat. 

“Should probably change your bandage.” He whispered, rubbing the back of his neck. He cleared his throat. He stands up walking out of the cabin room.  A breath of relief left her lips. she hadn't realized it.  She missed human’s, conversation, touching, feeling, and experiencing. She joked before that she ghosted through everything, living only to work. Now she lived to survive, that wasn't living. 

He came back into the room with first aid supplies. He sat down in front of her on the floor, and began to unwrap the bandage from her leg. His fingertip’s grazed her thigh, her heart pounded in her ear’s loudly. “You're staring.” He mumbled. She cleared her throat leaning back on her hand’s.

“Sorry..uh just talk to me.please.” She pleaded with him, chuckling nervously. “Um..what was your word on the highway?” Bradley wonder’s, she scoffs. “Sore loser.” She grumbled, shaking her head. He rolled his eye’s as he soaked a cotton ball with alcohol. 

“It was cowboy.” Valerie tell’s him.  “What!?” He exclaimed, she chuckled, shaking her head. “See what I mean.” She teased him. She hissed through her teeth as hot pain stung her, she grit her teeth sitting up, gripping his arms. 

“Fuck motherfuc-agh.” The women swore holding him tightly. His brown eyes looked her up and down. 

“Little warning would have been nice.” Valerie mutter’s. 

“Sorry.” He breathed out. She shook her head letting go of his arms.

“Can I ask you something?” Valerie wonder’s, he nods his head. 

“Yeah sure.” Bradley say’s, he brings cold wet cloth, wiping away the dried blood that dye’s the white red. She glanced at his lips watching as he worked around the wound. She could see the outline of the arrowhead and where he had to cut around her thigh. 

“Did you ever visited the Hard Deck?” Valerie asked calmly. He licked his lips looking up from his spot on the floor.

“You said you were a pilot, and that was the popular spot for them.” She recall’s. 

“Did you ever go?” She repeats’. “I did.” He answers, she smirks. He place’s a white gauze on the wound, soaking up the blood, placing more around it. 

“So you must have seen me at some point right?” Valerie smiled softly. He bit his lip as heat arose to his cheek.  

“I did.” He says softly. Her heart pounded, the blonde stared up at her from the floor. His eyes glancing between the wound on her leg, his finger’s working delicately to not hurt her, and her face. 

His breath hot on the bare part of her skin, his focus didn't deter him from how close the two were getting. More than they have been since they began their journey. “Did you ever try to talk to me?” She wondered. He wrapped the bandage around her leg tightly.

“I wanted to, you always left before I could.” Bradley admit’s. Her breath hitched at his confession. 

“I saw you every Saturday, you alway ordered the same thing.” His brown eyes glanced at her.

“Pale Ale, with a garnish.” He recall’s, her dropped slightly agape. 

“And you always looked like you had so much on your mind.” His voice vibrated. Her brows furrowed as she began to rerun scenes from the world before. Every Saturday. She thought. It couldn't be him, could it. “I never got the confidence though, kind of mad at myself on that one.” He chuckled weakly, he shook his head. Her thoughts raced as she played everything back, she only caught glimpses from behind, his sunglasses always his eyes from her, and the crowd’s of civilians and armed forces. 

He turned around. “It was you wasn't it?” Valerie say’s, she sits up with her hand in her lap. His heart pounded, he 

“Great balls of Fire, every saturday…the piano.” She lists,their eyes not daring to look away. 

“Was that you?” She asks softly. He smiled warmly. His hand’s stopped wrapping, he taped it sealing her wound off. Her hand’s hold his on her bare thigh.

"Yes." He anwserd, he looked down at the floor. "That was me." He says.

She smiled, caressing his cheek, making him look her in the eye. The gap between the two of them began to get smaller As his hand slowly trailed to her waist. She holds the back of his neck pulling him in, inhaling deeply as their lips begin to move in sync.

His finger grazes across her skin, the warmth of them contrasting with her cold body. He leaned forward, hooking his hand under knee .

Her back pushed into the grey comforter, the both of them keeping the rhythm of lips . She wrapped her bare leg around his waist, while her other hand played with the hem of his plaid shirt.

She pulled away as sharp pain shot through her body. Valerie held her leg groaning in pain.

"I'm sorry." He whispered, his hot breath on her face. She smiled, their foreheads touching. "It's okay…should take it slow." She says softly.

"Not really my style." Bradley teases her, she could feel him smirk.

"Me neither." She agreed. Valerie untangled herself from, he pulled himself away from her. His blonde hair messy from her fingers.

"You should get some rest, I'll see how far we are." He tell's her. He adjusted his pant leg as he turned around. She smirked at her effect.

"You know if this isn't a rumor, then we won't have to worry about that." Valerie teased him. He bit his lip, turning around to face her.

"Are you good on that promise?" Bradley challenged her. She smirked looking him up and down.

" I might be." She smirked. He shook his head as his cheeks became hot. His brown eyes gazed on the injured girl.

"Get some rest." He says walking out of the cabin room. She sighed leaning her head back against the pillow. Groaning loudly as she closed her eyes as the ache in body remained. The boat slowly rocked her back to sleep.

A/N: AND THAT IS ALL SHE WROTE, God i hope this dosent flop because if it does I have to go down with. Anyway's, your favorite smart mouth guy is next.

Tagged: @cowboysandpilots @bobfloydssunnies @sugarcoated-lame @sorchathered @fairyheart @senawashere @swiftsgirlfriend @

#top gun maverick #top gun #top gun au #top gun fanfic #top gun one shot #top gun maverick fanfiction #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw x oc #bradley bradshaw x female oc #A quiet place au #rooster top gun #rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction

[hangmansgbaby]

Songbird P R O L O G U E

Masterlist

"This is what I call a target-rich environment." Maverick smiles as they walk through the bar, their white naval uniforms on.

"You live your life between your legs, Mav." Goose replies to him.

"Goose, even you could get laid in a place like this." Mav smiles patting his back 

"I'm telling you, I'd be happy to find a girl who'd talk dirty to me." Goose replies walking up to the bar counter. He looks up and spots a pilot from earlier. "Mav, you want to know who the best is? That's him. Iceman. That's the way he flies, ice-cold, no mistakes. Just wears you down. You get bored, frustrated, do something stupid, and he's got you." Goose points out taking a swig of his beer before turning around. "Hey, hey, Slider. Thought you wanted to be a pilot, man. What happened?" Goose asks, playing with Slider's badges.

"Goose, you're such a dickhead. Whose butt did you kiss to get in here?" Slider questions.

"Well, the list is long but distinguished." Goose jokes.

"Yeah, well, so is my johnson." Slider returns, downing a shot.

"So you're flying with Iceman?" Goose asks.

"It's Mr Iceman to you." Slider bounces back.

"Hey, Mother Goose. How's it going?" Iceman says, shaking hands with Goose.

"Good, Tom." Goose shakes before introducing Maverick. "This is Pete Mitchell. Tom Kazansky."

"Congratulations on Top Gun." Iceman replies, turning to Pete.

"Thank you." Peter shakes his hand.

"Sorry to hear about Cougar. He and I were like brothers in flight school. He was a good man." Tom tells him.

"Still is a good man." Pete says.

"Yeah, that's what I meant." Tom replies.

"Thought so."

"Say, you need any help?" Tom asks Pete.

"With what?" Pete asks.

"You figured it out yet?" Tom questions, a smile on his face.

"What's that?"

"Who's the best pilot?" Tom smiles.

"No, I think I can figure that one out on my own." Peter returns.

"I heard that about you. You like to work alone."

"Mav, you must've soloed under a lucky star? I mean, first the MiG, and then you guys slide into Cougar's spot."

"We didn't slide into Cougar's spot. It was ours, okay?" Goose interjects.

"Yeah, well, some pilots wait their whole career just to see a MiG up close. Guess you guys are lucky and famous?" Slider takes another shot.

"No, you mean notorious. I'll see you later." Tom tells Maverick and Goose before him and Slider walk away.

"You can count on it." Pete replies. 

"They were abused children." Goose tells Pete.

"We're gonna have a good time." Pete smiles, clinking bottles with Goose.

"Always." Goose smiles before both take a drink.

"Okay, I guess it's my turn, isn't it?" Maverick says as a couple of girls smile and wave at him and Goose.

"All right, the bet is $20." Goose directs.

"$20." Pete nods.

"Right. You have to have carnal knowledge of a lady this time on the premises." Goose gives Pete.

"On the premises." Pete looks across the bar to see a blonde woman sit down, he smiles in her direction.

"Come on, Mav. A bet's a bet." Goose pushes, spotting who Maverick is looking at.

"I don't know, it just... It just doesn't seem fair. For you, I mean. But..." Pete places his hand on Goose's shoulder. "...she's lost that loving feeling."

"She's lost... No, she hasn't."

"Yes, she has."

"She has not lost that..."

"Goose, she's lost it." Pete walks away picking up a microphone.

"Mav. Come on." Goose follows him. "I hate it when she does that. Shit."

"Excuse me, miss." Pete taps the girl on her shoulder.

"Hey, hey, hey." Goose jumps between them with his aviators on. "Don't worry, I'll take care of this." 

"You never close your eyes any more, when I kiss your lips."Pete starts to sing.

"There's no tenderness, like before in your fingertips." Goose sings as the two boys rock back and forth snapping.

"You're trying hard not to show it." Pete sings.

"Baby but, baby Believe me I know it You've lost that loving feeling Whoa, that loving feeling You've lost that loving feeling Now it's gone, gone, gone Whoa, whoa, whoa Ba-doom, ba-doom ba-doom boom boom ba-doom." the whole bar starts singing along.

The girl smiles and nods to the seat next to her. "Sit down." Everyone cheers and claps as Pete takes a seat.

"Ba-doom ba-doom boom boom Ba-doom, ba-doom... Baby, baby get down on my knees for you Ba-doom, ba-doom Ba-doom boom boom."

"I love that song. I've never seen that approach." The girl smiles facing Pete. "How long have you two been doing this act?" She asks.

"Oh, I don't know, since..." Pete tries to come up with an excuse.

"Puberty?" She questions.

"Right, puberty." Pete laughs.

"I'm Charlotte Blackwood." She smiles.

"I'm Maverick." He introduces himself.

"Maverick? Did your mother not like you or something?" She laughs.

"No, it's my callsign."

"You're a pilot." She gasps.

"That's right, a naval aviator." He replies, matter of factly. 

"Oh." She nods.

"No, actually, we've only done this, twice." He tells her.

"Oh, how'd you do?"

"Well truthfully, I got my little girl out of the first. Not much else." Pete nods. 

"And second?" Charlie asks.

"I don't know. I'll tell you tomorrow. But it's looking good so far."

"Well, uh, Maverick, my friend's just arrived, so it's been great talking to you." She turns to her friend and hands him her things. "Oh, I'll be with you in just a second, okay?" She turns back to Pete. "Listen, can I ask you a personal question?"

"That depends."

"Are you a good pilot?"

"I can hold my own." Pete answers

"Great. Then I won't have to worry about you making your living as a singer." She smiles and walks away from him.

"I'm gonna need a beer to put these flames out. Yo! Great, Mav. Real slick." Pete sighs, taking a drink from his bottle. He notices her get up from the booth and walk to the bathroom and he follows her immediately after she makes eye contact with him.

"It was a long cruise, was it, sailor?" She asks, washing her hands.

"It was too long." He smiles walking up to her.

"What did you wanna do, just drop right down on the tile and go for it?"

"No, I actually had," he tests the durability of the bathroom counter, "had this counter in mind."

"Great, that would be very, very comfortable. Yeah." She says, throwing away the paper towel.

"It could be." He smiles moving closer. "Actually, I came in here to save you from making a big mistake with that older guy."

"Really?" Charlotte asks. "So I could go on to a bigger one with a young guy like yourself?"

"Maybe. No?"

"I've gotta be at work very early in the morning." She turns to walk away.

"Then what are you doing here?" He asks following her.

A few moments later she walks by Goose who sits at the bar with a beer.

"Your friend was magnificent." She tells him, walking by. Pete walks up to stand beside him as Goose looks between his best friend and Charlotte's retreating figure. Maverick holds a smug smirk on his face.

"Nah. Nah."

"You still awake?" Goose asks, walking into Maverick's place.

"Yeah. What's up?" Maverick asks.

"Can't sleep." Goose says sitting on the arm of one of the chairs. "You know, when I first realised that we were going to Top Gun, all I could think about was getting that trophy." He sighs. "I gotta be straight with you, Mav. Right now, I just hope we graduate. I got a family to think about. I can't afford to blow this." Goose sighs. "Hell, you've got that little girl to think about."

"Yeah, I guess that flyby wasn't such a big hit, huh?" Maverick laughs lightly.

"Look, man, I know it's tough for you. They wouldn't let you in the academy because you're Duke Mitchell's kid and you have to live with that reputation. But it's like every time we go up there, it's like you're flying against a ghost. It makes me nervous." Goose tells him, pausing before he continues. "Ya know, she's turning into you day by day. Carole called me and I could hear her in the background tell Carole that she wants to fly like you. You gotta change the Mitchell reputation, otherwise she's gonna struggle like you are."

"I know," Pete sighs. "Ya know you're the only family I've got, right? I appreciate what y'all have done for us. I'm not gonna let you down. I promise you." Goose laughs before getting up to leave. "Get out of here." Goose leaves and Maverick goes back to thinking about the days events. The hop, breaking the hard deck, Viper's words. 

"Lieutenant Mitchell. Top Gun rules of engagement exist for your safety and for that of your team. They are not flexible, nor am I. Either obey them or your history."

He sighs, turning out the lights before going to bed.

"This music." Pete smiles listening to it in the Sun Room of Charlie’s home.

"An old friend?" Charlie asks, sitting down after turning on the music.

"My folks loved it. I haven't heard this in years. My mother used to call down from her room and have me play this over and over again. I got so sick of it. But not her, she... Just sit up there alone, just listening, hours. Just listening. She died shortly after him." Pete explains from the doorway.

"What happened to your father?" Charlie asks, sitting up from the bench.

"I guess I kind of figured, with your security clearance, you'd know more about him than I do." Pete tells her.

"Well, I didn't get that far."

"Well, it's a big mystery. He disappeared in an F-4, November 5th, 1965. The stink of it was, he screwed up. No way. My old man was a great fighter pilot. But who the hell knows? It's all classified."

"Somebody must know." Charlie says

"Yeah, somebody knows everything." Pete mutters.

"Is that why you're always second best up there?"

"You are direct, aren't you? I'm sorry I was late." Pete apologizes

"I'm sorry for being direct." Charlie apologizes.

"No apologies." Pete mimics her.

"Well how about your daughter?" Charlie questions. "You kind of mentioned her at the bar."

"Oh Delilah? She is awesome, honestly the best 4 year old you will ever meet." Pete laughs.

"Does she live with her mom? Ya know since you're so busy in the air?" Charlie asks.

"No, actually her mom passed away when Delilah was born. She, uh, was a naval aviator too, and was on maternity leave at 8 and a half months pregnant when there was a massive emergency and no other pilots available to go up and help so she jumped on a jet and rushed out to help, completely disregarding the orders being shouted at her." Pete looks down while he talks. "She got hit, both engines out, she ejected and hit her head in the landing. " By the time they found her they had two options, save her or save the baby. Obviously they chose Delilah." Pete laughs slightly, looking down at his shoes.

"What's she like? Delilah, I mean." Charlie asks.

"She's a handful. I don't know a whole lot because of how little I've been around since her first birthday. She stays with Goose's wife and his son during my missions. But, uh, she told Carole that she wanted to be a pilot just like me. And gets into a lot of trouble at daycare cause she doesn't like being told what to do. Her words, literally." Pete laughs.

"Sounds like someone I know." Charlie laughs.

"Yea," Pete laughs. "I honestly can't wait to see her, Carole is flying in with the kids tomorrow."

"Oh that's great." Charlie smiles.

"Yea, I should uh, get going." Pete stands. 

"Where are you going?"

"I'm gonna take a shower. Thank you. I enjoyed being here." Pete smiles before grabbing his jacket, climbing on his motorcycle and leaving.

"I told her how tough it is here." Goose says, talking to Maverick. They sat in one of the booths at the airport. "You know, my ass dragging like an old, tired dog. I told her that you didn't even have a woman here." Goose says.

"Oh, really." Pete laughs picking up his gift for Delilah.

"You know what she said?" Goose starts laughing as he picks up a toy plane and a single rose. "Said, 'Oh, he probably doesn't have one, he's got eight'." The boys laugh as they walk out the doors to the tarmac. Goose takes off running at the sight of Carole and the kids.

"Ahhhhh hi!" Carole screams as Goose places the rose in her hand and wraps her in a large hug. 

"Daddy!" Bradley and Delilah shout simultaneously, Goose squats down to give Bradley a kiss on his head before picking him up in a huge hug. Delilah talks off running towards Pete, he smiles and drops down to her level as she reaches him, her arms wrapping around his neck quickly.

"Hey kiddo." Pete has a huge smile on his face and Delilah holds him tightly. "I missed you."

"I missed you too." The 4 year old leans back and looks at the toy in his hand. "Is that for me?" She questions softly.

"Of course it's for you, my future little pilot." He hands her the toy F-14 and plants a kiss on her cheek. Delilah giggles as she plays with her new toy. Carole and Goose walk up to them with Bradley in Goose's arms. 

"Uncle Pete!" Bradley shouts, reaching for Pete. 

"Bradley!" Pete cheers as Bradley jumps into his other arm.

"So, Maverick," Carole says as they walk out of the airport. Both of the kids are still in Pete's arms while Carole and Goose carry the luggage. "Goose tells me you're in love with one of your instructors."

"Is that right?" Pete asks glaring at Goose before walking off with the kids.

"I... I didn't tell her that." Goose defends himself.

"Yes, you did." Carole replies.

"I can't believe you said that. That was a secret." Goose mutters to her before kissing her again.

Goose, Carole, Charlie, and Maverick sit in a booth with Delilah and Bradley sat in between Charlie and Carole. 

"What should we get?" Bradley whispers behind the menu to Delilah.

"Our usual." Delilah giggles, tucked behind her menu. 

"I like your thinking, princess." Bradley calls Delilah by his nickname for her. No one quite knows where the 4 year old boy learned that but they find it adorable how the two are with each other.

"Looks like I won't be chasing any boys away when they are older, Goose. Bradley here will be doing it for me." Pete laughs, his arm slung behind Charlie on the back rest.

"That or you'll be chasing Bradley from Lilah." Goose laughs.

"What can I get y'all?" The waitress asks. All of the adults order before Carole looks at the kids. "Honey what do you want?"

"My girl and me want chicken strips, please." Everyone busts up laughing.

"I'll get right on that." The waitress smiles.

"Oh I'm definitely in trouble." Pete laughs.

"Shall we dance, my lady?" Bradley offers to Delilah.

"We shall." Delilah giggles as her and Bradley crawl under the table and onto the dance floor, dancing together.

"Now where did our son learn that?" Carole laughs.

"Oh honey I think he's watching us a lot closer than we thought. Shall we dance, my lady?" Goose asks his wife, pulling her from her seat and onto the dance floor. 

Soon Charlie and Maverick join them laughing and dancing before Pete interrupts Delilah and Bradley's dance to pick up his daughter and dance with her. Goose picks up Bradley and sets him down on top of the piano as the music ends. Suddenly Delilah is up there too before Pete sits down with Charlie and Carole.

"You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain! Too much love drives a man insane." Goose sings, playing the piano. The kids singing along. "You broke my will. Oh, what a thrill! Goodness gracious, great balls of fire!" 

"Maverick, would you go fetch him?" Carole asks, jumping in her seat at Goose's singing. "Doesn't he ever embarrass you?"

"Goose? Hell, no." Maverick answers. "Well, there was the time..."

"Admiral's daughter." Carole elbows Mavericks side.

"What?" Pete reacts.

"Come on. He told me all about the time you went ballistic with Penny Benjamin." Carole laughs, causing Charlie to start laughing.

"Did he? Well, that's great." Maverick smiles softly, looking at Charlie.

"He tells me about all of them, Maverick." Carole laughs. "How my little angel, Goose, goes home early for church, and you, you always go home with the hot women."

"All right, thank you, Carole." Pete's cheeks flush as he gets up. "I'm gonna go embarrass myself with Goose for a while."

"Dancing!" Bradley and Delilah cheer from their spots.

"You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain!" Pete joins Goose and the kids, messing with the kids while singing. "Too much love drives a man insane! You broke my will, oh, what a thrill! Goodness gracious, great balls of fire!" Pete shouts with Goose, his head next to Goose's while they make funny faces making the two 4 year olds laugh.

"I would love to be able to warn you off about Maverick, but I just love him to death." Carole laughs. "You know, I've known Pete for a lot of years now, and I'm telling you, one thing's for certain. There are hearts breaking wide open all over the world tonight."

"Why?" Charlie questions.

"Because unless you are a fool, that boy is off the market. He is 100 percent, prime-time in love with you." Carole points to Charlie before turning back to the boys and kids. "Hey, Goose, you big stud!"

"That's me, honey." Goose calls back from the piano.

"Take me to bed or lose me forever." Carole calls back.

"Show me the way home, honey." Goose calls, still playing the piano. "Come on, kids, sing with the family." Goose looks up at the kids as Carole comes up to them and sits in Goose's lap."You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain! Too much love drives a man insane! You broke my will, oh, what a thrill! Goodness gracious, great balls of fire!" Everyone sings as Charlie joins the group.

Taglist: @kmc1989 @og-baby-ob-14 @merishfit @mamamaystbr @atarmychick007 @hiireadstuff @els-marvelvsp @erospecies @mariaenchanted

#gbaby songbird #top gun maverick #top gun #top gun x oc #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #miles teller #rooster #bradley bradshaw x oc #bradley bradshaw x female oc #rooster bradshaw #bradley 'rooster' bradshaw #nick goose bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster fanfic #rooster smut #rooster x oc #rooster top gun #OC Delilah Mitchell #Bradley Bradshaw x Pete Mitchell daughter

[callsigndragon]

Hold my hand | two

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Jenn Seresin (OFC) / Jake Seresin x Rowan "Red Queen" Jenkins (OFC)

Wordcount: 2.8k

Warnings: mentions of break up, mission stuff, 'basic fighter maneuvers' class, mentions of pregnancy, abortion, and two men being simps.

Masterlist

If you want to get tagged, comment down below!

Bradley can’t believe his luck. Not only does he have to deal with Hangman’s ass, but his ex-girlfriend is also part of the mission. And he wants to be mistaken, but he swears that the motorbike he saw in the parking lot is Maverick’s. 

Super secret mission and Maverick in the same place? The chances of him being involved in this are higher than he wants to admit. 

“Well, it seems like things haven't changed a lot. Hangman is still a dick, you are still in love with Jenn…” 

Bradley looks at Nat, rolling his eyes. “I don’t love Jenn.” 

Nat takes a sip from her beer and before leaving to talk with Jenn, she says. “Sure, and I have a secret child with Hangman.” 

He watches her walk away, noticing two pairs of eyes looking at him. Bradley makes eye contact with the object of his affection, the girl with the hazel eyes that he can still see when he falls asleep. He remembers how he used to spend hours studying those eyes, memorizing every color from green to brown, even the small golden drops near her pupil. 

“Valkyrie.” Rooster nods in her direction, wishing that he could walk closer and talk to her. But he didn’t have that right anymore. 

“Bradshaw.” 

That’s more than he expected, actually. The music gets louder. Whatever song Hangman has chosen is as obnoxious as he is. There’s a way of fixing this.

“Hey, check it out. More patches.” Fanboy says, looking at the new wave of pilots entering the bar. “The hell kinda mission is this?” 

Rowan looks around the room, pondering the answer to Mickey’s question. “That’s not the question you should be asking. Everybody here is the best there is. Who the hell are they gonna get to teach us?” 

“I think I know.” Jenn says, looking at the man who had been talking with Penny. He is the one paying for this round of beers they're having. “Have you ever heard of Maverick?” 

“Maverick Mitchell? The only man to shoot down three enemy aircraft in the last forty years?” Rowan asks, knowing that the man is not only an eminence, but a legend. 

“Yep. That one.” 

“And how can you know that he’s gonna teach us?” Fanboy takes a pool cue and moves closer to Bob. 

“Because he’s sitting at the bar.” 

All the aviators turn around, searching for the man that Valkyrie has been talking about. To their surprise, the man is looking at them, a silent confirmation that the old timer is going to be teaching them. 

Fanboy clears his throat and leaves the beer behind. “Well, what a way to make a great first impression.” 

“He knows that we’re the best,” Payback reminds his wizzo, patting him on the back. “Let’s have fun before the mission starts.” 

“Cheers to that.” Javy says, raising his beer. 

The music of the jukebox suddenly stops, and someone starts playing on the piano. Jenn doesn’t need to look to know who it is. She only knows two men so obsessed with that song. And one of them is the one playing it right now. 

Phoenix motions Fanboy, Bob, Payback, and Red to join them, leaving behind the Seresins and Javy. Jake groans, watching as Bradshaw gathers all the attention. Even Red’s.

“Always wanting to be the center of the party.” Jake sits next to Javy, watching as his sister doesn’t tear her eyes away from Bradshaw. “Jenn.” 

She doesn’t answer. 

“Jenn?” He insists, but still no answer. “Oh my god, not again.” 

Javy looks at his friend, sighing. “Val, he broke your heart once. Don’t give him the chance to do it again.” 

“I won’t.” She replies quickly, darting his eyes between the man talking to Penny and the man playing the piano. “I’m just thinking how long is it gonna take before Rooster snaps.”

“Why would he do that?” 

Jenn turns to look at Javy, wondering if she should answer or not. But she doesn’t really care about keeping Bradley’s secrets anymore. “Maverick is Rooster’s godfather. He flew with his old man.” 

Jake stands from his seat, ready to throw a myriad of questions when Penny rings the bell, and the crow starts chanting. 

“Overboard, overboard.” 

Javy and Jake look at each other. “Come on, let’s have some fun before things get serious.” 

Jenn watches how her small family, accompanied by Payback, carries Maverick to the door. They are going to regret that so much tomorrow. 

Next morning, they all stand on deck, saying hi to everyone. Jake watches Red from a distance, very interested in the pilot. She seems like the kind of girl who is friends with everyone and sees the good in people. And yet, she’s the best aviator of her generation. How those two personalities can coexist in the same body is something that Hangman doesn’t comprehend. But he’s willing to find out. 

“If you keep staring like that, you’re gonna burn a hole in the back of her head.” Jenn jokes, sitting next to his brother. “I never thought I’d see you fall for someone like that.” 

“I haven’t fallen for anyone, idiot.” Jake sighs, twirling a toothpick between his fingers. “Besides, you know that we’re not made to have those kinds of relationships.” 

Jenn lets her head fall forward, groaning at his words. “Don’t start with that again, please.” 

“Look, I’m just saying that none of us has ever had a proper relationship.” 

“Because we push everyone away, man. We’re not cursed or whatever you want to think.” She says, opening the F-18 manual in front of her. 

“You didn’t push away Rooster.” Jake mutters, knowing that he’s walking on thin ice. 

The brunette turns her head, throwing a warning look at her brother. “Careful, Jacob.” 

A few rows away, Rowan, sitting behind Phoenix and Bob, leans closer to the female. “Hey, Nat. Can I ask you a question?” 

“Yeah, sure!” She says, turning her chair around to look at Rowan. “What is it?” 

“Is Hangman that bad, or are you all exaggerating?” 

Phoenix looks at Bob, who just shrugs because he doesn’t know the male Seresin as much, and then turns to look at Red again. “Don’t tell me that you’re interested in him.”

Rowan looks at the siblings, engrossed in their conversation. “He’s hot.” 

“He’s an idiot.” 

Rowan chuckles, shaking her head. “Is he really an idiot? I think he just says what we all think but don’t say out loud.” 

"Well, that might be true, but do you know why we call him Hangman?” 

“Attention on deck!” 

The conversation dies as everyone snaps to attention. Cyclone and Warlock approach them, but it is the latter who steps into the podium and addresses all of them, explaining who he is, how he welcomes all of them to this special training detachment, and then goes on and on reminding them who they are the best. The elite. 

“That was yesterday. You’ve all spent your careers flying close air support for troops on the ground, with little to no air-to-air threat.” Warlock explains, watching as the smiles drop around the room. Jenn and Jake look at each other, smiling at the idea of having a little bit more action than usual. Rooster, however, looks like he’s regretting coming here. 

Warlock describes a new fifth generation aircraft owned by the enemy that has put an end to the technological advance that the US Navy had for years. 

“Success, now more than ever, comes down to the man or woman in the box.” 

Jake looks at Phoenix, winking at her and earning a middle finger from the female. Rowan, who sees the exchange, smiles a bit. Jake won’t ever admit it, but his heart might have just skipped a beat. 

“This mission,” Warlock continues, “requires four F-18 Echo solo pilots, and two Foxtrot dual seat teams. Half of you will make the cut, and half will remain in reserve.” 

“You can bet your ass that we will be on the final cut.” Jake mumbles to his sister, who only nods. 

“One of you will be named Mission Leader.” Rooster and Hangman share a glance. Fight’s on. 

Warlock moves on, now talking about the instructor and the experience he has. “His exploits are legendary, and he is considered to be one of the finest pilots this program has ever produced. What he has to teach you may very well mean the difference between life and death. I give you Captain Pete Mitchell, call sign: Maverick.” 

The captain walks to the podium, F-18 manual in hand. Hangman squirms a bit in his seat, now thinking that acting like that towards his instructor maybe wasn’t as good an idea as he thought. 

“Good morning,” Maverick says to all of them, looking a bit longer in Rooster’s direction. “The F-18 NATOPS. It contains everything there is to know about your aircraft. What’s the load limit of the F–18?”

Jake answers immediately, always eager to seek out approval from his superiors. “7.5Gs. Section Four, Chapter Five.” 

Maverick nods, already thinking of the next question. “Max airspeed?” 

“Mach 1.8. Section Two, Chapter One.” Phoenix replies this time, not wanting to be less than Hangman. 

While Maverick keeps asking questions, Hondo stands next to Cyclone. “Sir. Bernie Coleman. They call me Hondo. I work with Maverick but, please, don’t hold it against me.” Hondo smiles, but Cyclone doesn’t. “I’ll stand somewhere else.” 

As he slinks away, Maverick points to Javy. “Lift limit?” 

“34 Alpha.” He answers. 

Now, Maverick points to Fanboy. “Maximum roll rate.” 

“Two hundred and twenty five degrees per second.” Mickey answers, very proud of himself. 

Now he points to Jenn, doubting for a second when he recognizes who she is. He shakes it off and asks her. “Maximum afterburner.” 

“42,000 pounds of thrust.” Jenn responds, quickly moving her eyes away from the instructor.

It’s awkward to answer these questions when the man asking them used to be at Bradley’s childhood home every Sunday when Goose and Carole invited Jenn over for dinner. She remembers how Bradley explained to her that he wasn’t on good terms with Maverick and his mom, as they both planned to pull his application for the Naval Academy. But Goose insists on having weekly dinners until ‘Bradley realizes that staying mad after all these years is not only a waste of time but also useless’. 

She wonders if Bradley has finally forgiven them. 

“Max rate of climb, everyone.” 

“Forty-five thousand feet per minute.” 

Maverick grabs the manual, looking at it for a second. “So you know the book. Inside and out. Along with the so-called limits of your aircraft.” 

All the aviators confirm that they do know it, not expecting their instructor to drop the book in the trash. “So does your enemy.” 

Jenn and Jake smile at the same time. At last, some action. “This is gonna be good.” 

Jake nods, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t know who’s gonna be leader, but I can’t tell you now that Chicken Little doesn’t stand a chance.” 

“What the enemy doesn’t know,” the captain insists, gathering the attention of everyone. “is you. Your limits. I intend to find them. Test them. Push beyond… Flying faster than the speed of sound with one split second to make a life or death decision requires a level of trust, feel, and instinct that doesn’t exist in any manual.” 

And he says this, looking directly at Rooster. Something that goes unnoticed by almost every pilot on deck. 

Except for Jenn. 

Hours later, when Maverick initiates his ‘basic fighter maneuvers’ class, Jenn approaches the captain once Rooster, Fanboy, and Payback finish their turn. 

“Sir, there’s not enough Foxtrot teams for all of us.” 

Maverick looks at her. “It’s good to see you again, Jenn. I’m sorry that things didn’t work out with Rooster.” 

“Yeah… he kept saying things about my brother. Family is important for me, and he knew that.”

“I thought you two broke up because he-”

She clears her throat, looking around to make sure nobody can hear them. “I will prefer to keep things professional, sir.” 

Maverick nods, lookign at the floor for a second before answering her initial question. “Very well. You’ll fly with Red. I’m sure you two will make a good team.” 

Red, huh? It’s a good occasion to know more about her possible future sister-in-law. 

“Hey, Jenn.” Rowan says, looking at her once, that the two have arrived at the practice area. 

“Yes?” 

“How do two siblings end up working in the same squad?” She inquires, turning inside the box to look at the other pilot. 

“Well, I guess we worked together so well that they never separated us.” Jenn chuckles for a second and sighs. “But if you ask my brother, he will tell you that we’re just really good pilots, and they can’t go on without their best duo.” 

Red snorts, thinking for a few seconds if she wants to know more about Jake Seresin or not. “I don’t think he’s a bad guy.” 

“He’s not. He's a bit rough around the edges, and his mouth is bigger than his head, but he’s a good guy.” 

“You really love him, don’t you?” Red questions, but more than asking, she states it. It's easy to feel the connection the two siblings have. 

Jenn chooses her words carefully. She wants Red to know that her brother is a good person, even though everyone thinks otherwise. “I’m alive because of him.” 

“That sounds ominous.” 

“You’re gonna have to get me a drink if you want me to tell you the full story.” Jenn replies, looking around, trying to find the captain. 

“Deal. Where the heck is Maverick?” 

Jenn inverts her plane, observing the valley below them. She catches sight of him, he’s flying really low. “He’s down there.” 

“Let’s turn and burn, Val.” Red says, inverting her plane and diving to go after Maverick. 

“Congratulations, girls. You’re the first ones to find me.” Maverick says, trying to escape Red. 

“Someone had to prove that we are, actually, the best of the best.” Rowan teases, knowing that all the other pilots are listening to the conversation through the radio in the officer’s lounge. 

Jenn can practically see her brother rolling his eyes after that comment. 

After a fierce dogfight, Rowan and Jenn, both flying like their asses depend on it, place themselves behind Maverick’s plane. “What do you say, Val? Can we do this?” 

“Please, my queen. Do the honors.” 

Red chuckles and smiles when Maverick’s plane is in her gunsights. “That’s a kill.”

When Maverick hears the tone, he nods. “Copy kill. Seems like I have to do some pushups.” 

“You don’t have to, sir.” Red offers, feeling bad about her instructor. 

“Nah, a bet’s a bet. Two hundred pushups. And I’ll be counting.” Jenn smirks, pirouetting around while celebrating the victory. 

Back in the officer’s lounge, two men seem to be a bit more happy about this win than the other aviators in the room. 

“Rooster, please.” Phoenix groans, throwing an empty water bottle at his head. 

Rooster almost jumps from his seat. “Hey! What was that for?” 

Phoenix leans closer to him, whispering in his ear so that Jake can’t hear them. “You can’t keep fantasizing about a girl that will never return your feelings.”

“You don’t know that.” He retorts, clenching his jaw. Fuck, he doesn’t need anyone to remind him how fucked up he is. Denial is all that’s left for him. 

“Dude, you yelled at her in front of everyone because she got an abortion without telling you!” 

Rooster gets up from the chair, looking down at Natasha. “That was my baby, too.” 

“It wasn’t a baby. It was a 5 week old fetus.” 

“She never told me. Only found out because someone saw her walking out of the clinic.” Rooster complains, raising his voice.

“She didn’t need to tell you shit, Rooster. It was her body. Jenn didn’t want to have a baby. She wasn’t ready. She doesn’t need to ask for permission.” 

Rooster bites the inside of his cheek. He knows she’s right. He knows. But… he can’t stop imagining how their lives would have changed with a baby around. They would probably be married by now. Or maybe not. It’s difficult to know. “I wanted to have a family with her.” 

Natasha lets out a groan of pure exasperation. “Jenn didn’t want to start a family back then. It’s not that hard to understand, for fuck’s sake! You got her pregnant, she aborted. You yelled at her at base, in front of the fucking commander, Rooster. It was supposed to be a secret, but everyone at base knew that Bradley Bradshaw knocked up Jenn Seresin!” 

“You got my sister pregnant?” 

Rooster and Phoenix turn to look at Jake, whose hands are closing into fists. 

Seems like not everybody knew.

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

Taglist:

@shrimping-for-all

@purplevortexx

@emorychase

@xoxabs88xox

@books-are-escapes

@jynxmirage

@averyhotchner

@hosekiv

@endofdays56

#bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw x female oc #bradley bradshaw x oc #rooster angst #rooster fanfic #top gun maverick #top gun #top gun maverick fanfic #top gun fanfiction #rooster top gun #rooster x oc #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x oc #hangman x oc #jake x red #hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x oc #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin fic #jake seresin imagine #hangman top gun #jake seresin #jake hangman fic

[greatszu]

Goosebumps & Ultrasounds (Prologue)

When you get what you want but not what you need

Summary: After a hard and rocky way to summit the top of her game, Jeniffer “Ultra” Heatherly, the daughter of one of the most legendary instructors and aviator Rick “Jester” Heatherly is finally fulfilling her dream of getting a shot at Top Gun School. Little did she know, that the accidental meeting in “Hard Deck” during her first week in Fighertown, will bring such unexpected consequences. And this is just the beginning of her troubles.

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x OC

Warnings: language, angst, alcohol consumption, mention of loss, mention of work harassment, +18 ONLY, Minors DNI

Length: 5000 words

Note from the author: Before I create massive havoc between my main characters (yes, this is the warning, peace was never an option), I feel a proper introduction must take place. It was fun to take a deep dive into Rooster's and Ultra's thoughts and struggles! They both have to endure certain legacies and backgrounds. Anyway, I hope you enjoy guys! Please, feel free to comment and reblog, I am curious about your opinions!

P.S. This is my first writing after a VERY long break, so my style may be a little bit creaky, but I promise I will get back there soon.

________

Prolongue

"When you get what you want but not what you need"

USS Ronald Reagan, the Residence of Squadron VFA-195, Japanese Sea

It was a chilly and sunny morning. The naval ship was heading back to its harbor. The sound of jets landing on the deck was an indication of aviators coming back from the night’s patrol. Commander O’Malley of squadron VFA-195, popular as Dumbasters, was sitting in his office, waiting for an approaching aviator of his squadron. When he heard footsteps, he stood up.

“Enter!” he replied to knocking.

“You asked for my presence, sir,” the young female pilot entered his office and made a salute. Commander nodded and waved his hand to a woman to take a seat.

“I have news for you, Ultra,” he said, watching carefully his protég��. The youngest daughter of Rick Heatherly callsign Jester. One of the most legendary aviators and the longest-serving in history instructor in the United States Navy Fighter Weapons School known as Top Gun. Being a woman in the academy was tough enough, O’Malley knew that very well. But being a woman and the Jester’s kid at the same time… Yes, Jennifer Heatherly had gone through hell to earn her position. She graduated Academy at the top of her class despite the all obstacles that had been thrown at her on the daily basis. Not just by her peers, but also by her instructors. Being the first female pilot in her squadron she had met with nothing but mistrust and hostility. But she made her way in, earned respect, and formed friendships with the rest of the crew. Nowadays, none of the boys could possibly imagine VFA-195 Squadron without Ultra and her formidable skills. She was one hell of a pilot and had proved to be a crucial member of many dangerous missions and detachments. They didn’t call her Ultra from ultrasounds for nothing. She was calculating, sneaky, and capable of striking her attack at the least anticipated moment. Commander’s eyes met large green eyes and smiled. Who would have thought that this frail-looking creature is a deadly, unpredictable, and skilled U.S. Navy fighter pilot?

“Sir?”

“You are going to Top Gun,” he said. Delicate eyebrows raised slightly.

“When?” she asked, trying to stay composed. 

“In two weeks. Congratulation lieutenant, you have earned it,” he replied and gave her a wide smile. Her features finally have broken into a small grin.

“Thank you, sir,  I won’t let you and the squadron down,” she responded.

“I know you won’t. But before you will be sent, there is something you should probably know to prepare yourself” Commander scratched his bald head and looked thoroughly at his young aviator.

“Sir, I’m all ears!”

“Have you ever wondered why I didn’t send you last year instead of Smallboy?” he asked, observing carefully her reaction. Ultra furrowed her brows while considering his question seriously.

“I thought because of tension in the region you had preferred to keep the majority of your top pilots in your eyesight,” she answered watching him cautiously.

“So you weren’t bitter that male and younger than you aviator had been sent instead of you?” he asked raising his brows.

“No, I mean… It was obvious that one of us would have been sent. You couldn’t have afforded to send us both since we were the best. Besides, I had my hands full with the Korean crisis, and after it shambles on the Rogue coast. So I wasn’t bored,” Ultra replied. Commander nodded with approval to her common sense.

“Yes, it was one of the reasons, but not the main.”

“So what was the main reason, then, sir?” she asked suspiciously. 

“You probably have heard about the uranium mission and the exploits of naval aviators during it,” he spoke slowly.

“I mean, who hasn’t, right?” she laughed.

“After the success of this mission, Admiral Simpson decided that it was high time to implement some fundamental changes to the Top Gun’s program. He believes that missions like uranium one are inevitable future and you as the elite of the Navy should leveled-up your game and skills. The previous calendar year was the last with the old program. Since the beginning of this year, there is a new program that is much more demanding. From the first group of pilots, only half of the group managed to cross the finish line."

“Only half, huh? Sounds promising!” Ultra commented sarcastically.

“It’s not everything. The author of the new program is nobody else but Commander Pete Mitchell callsign Maverick,” he said. Jennifer opened her eyes wide and bursted into laugh. 

“It explains why only half of them made it!” she said chuckling. Commander smiled at her remark.

“I know, right? Who would have thought? But it seems that after the success, Maverick has returned to the favors of the Navy and is now one of the most trusted admiral's colleagues. And yes, he will be one of the instructors.” 

“Great! It’s high time someone beat him in a dogfight,” she murmured.

“Do not underestimate him Ultra,” he warned her pointing a finger at her.

“I am not. But he certainly will underestimate me and my skills. They all do after all,” she said with such a casualness that Commander O’Malley felt uneasy.

“Alright, enough of this. For your information, the new program runs for 16 weeks, not 13 weeks like before. You will be glad to hear that these rascals of yours will be participants too.”

“You mean Blizzard and Mockingjay?” she asked in disbelief. Commander nodded.

“Yeah, they had been busted, but their squadron’s commander took pity on them and gave them his approval,” he replied smiling seeing her enthusiasm. “This trio.” he thought. “These poor bastards from Miramar don’t have a clue what is going to hit them.” He cleared his throat.

“So that was the main reason, sir? You thought I would be more suitable for a more difficult program?” she asked unexpectedly keeping her eyes on him vigilantly. O’Malley took a deep breath.

“Not quite.” Green eyes were squinted. “The moment of revelation,” the older pilot thought. He was afraid of her reaction to what he was about to say next.

“You see Ultra, pilots like Maverick appears once in a few decades. I think that you have everything what it takes to be a prodigy of your generation. That is why I am sending you now. These new adjustments will make you shine and show what you are made of,” he explained. The confusion was plastered all over her appealing features.

“You think?” she asked doubtfully.

“I don’t think. I just know,” he replied firmly. Frows appeared on her forehead. O’Malley suppressed his amusement. He knows dozens of pilots who, after his statement will sit beaming with pride and cockiness. But not her. Here he was, sitting with probably one of the most skilled pilots on the entire planet Earth, watching her being confused, puzzled, and doubtful about his words.

“That is like a LOT of pressure!” she finally spoke after a moment of silence.

“Nothing you haven’t already been accustomed to, Ultra,” he replied.

“Is that supposed to comfort me?” she asked sarcastically.

“You have got this. Trust your skills and experience. I know, you will do just fine,” he said in a softer voice. She smiled slightly but her eyes were unreadable.

“Well, in that case, thank you, sir. I am really grateful for your thoughtfulness!” she said. Commander nodded and waved his hand to make her go.

“You are welcome. And Ultra…?”

“Yes, sir?” she asked, lifting from the chair.

“Good luck!” Commander concluded their meeting.

Holy Trinity WhatsApp Conversation:

Jen-Jen: See you in Fightertown, assholes!

Monica: Fucking finally! I thought I would spill the tea. What took him so long to tell you?!

Alex: Congratulations Jen, I am so happy that we will be together in this.

Jen-Jen: Dunno, maybe because I was in the air all the time? You-know-what thing is freshly settled and we had to conduct frequent reconnaissance and all. 

Monica: Showing off as usual.

Jen-Jen: Anyway, has your big guy told you anything specific about sending you to Miramar?

Alex: Only that the Navy made some adjustments to the program. Why?

Jen-Jen: So he didn’t tell you that Maverick orchestrated these changes and that he is going to be one of our instructors?

Monica: Fuck off, we’d known!

Alex: Wait WHAT?!

Monica: I’m having a major panic attack rn!

Alex: Jen are you serious?

Jen-Jen: O’Malley told me that, so it’s legit…

Monica: Bloody hell! So we are fucked!

Alex: I don’t know if I am more frightened or excited.

Monica: This is going to be total carnage! We don’t stand a chance.

Alex: Blizzard, you are just being hysterical. We will be fine.

Jen-Jen: Not so sure about it Alex. From the first group, only half made it. At this point I just hope, we all graduate.

Alex: Happy thought, girls!

Monica: Here is my happy thought Mockingjay: At least we will be together in this mess. Just hope they didn’t call Voldemort. I can’t stand this cad.

Alex: You better worry about your sorry ass, Mona.

Jen-Jen: Exactly. God, I even miss you.

Monica: Liar!

Alex: We miss you too :)!

Fightertown, Hard Deck

“What do we have here? Bradshaw!”

There was a time in Bradley Bradshaw’s life that this voice and this Texas accent of Jake Seresin had put him on the edge. But those days were history and nowadays it only makes him smile widely like at this moment. Rooster made his way through the bar fully packed with aviators and local folks.

“What’s up, Hangman? Miss me?” he replied approaching the pool table where the little welcome committee gathered with familiar and smiling faces.

“What did take you so long to bring your ass here?!” Jake laughed propping himself on the pool stick.

“I take it as a yes!” Bradley smiled at the comment and shared a strong handshake with the man he could now call one of his best friends.

“But he is right though, you ARE late” a female voice behind him sounded irritated.

“And three beers behind” a male voice behind him supported the female one. Rooster turned around to face Phoenix and Bob. Despite their remarks, they looked very contented with his presence.

“Don’t worry, I’ll soon catch up with you all!” he promised with a smile hugging them both.

“Yo Rooster, good to see you, man!” Coyote greeted him and handed him over a bottle of beer. Behind Coyote Payback and Fanboy were waiting with their ear-to-ear smiles for their turn to welcome their friend. Bradley has never considered himself sentimental but he must have admitted to himself. He truly did miss them all. The sight of his friends was a relief especially after difficulties which he had endured in… No! He shook his head. That was hardly a time to think about it. Rooster tried his best to focus on cheerful chat and not to recall the reason he had been far away from Fightertown for a couple of weeks.

“So how was the first group of Mav’s new program?” he asked. His questions caused a variety of reactions, from snorting, and rolling eyes to Hangman’s loud laugh.

“Only half of them finished it. Barely.” Coyote snorted taking a generous sip of a beer.

“And Cyclone was fine with it?” Rooster asked in disbelief which only met with collective cheerfulness.

“Yeah, he was like if they die, they die,” Hangman commented viciously.

“He knows the program needed to be changed,” Phoenix carried on glancing the look of disapproval at Jake.

“Maybe squadrons will reconsider who they’re sending and if their chosen ones are ACTUALLY able to stick up with the game!” Payback added sarcastically. Bradley whistled.

“Wow, guys you really became brutes!” he joked.

“Look Rooster they aren’t calling us the dagger squad for nothing,” Jake retorted with his brows raised.

“Aye!” Fanboy supported him raising his glass of beer.

“AYE!” Coyote repeated with his bottle raised.

“Don’t you guys think, such adjustments should be implemented gradually? I understand that it was necessary, I just question if at the cost of a few breakdowns and resignations,” Bob expressed his doubts looking at the bottom of his empty glass.

“Two guys gave back their wings before the end of their training,” Fanboy whispered to Rooster after noticing confusion plastered on his friend’s face.

“I would love to agree with you, Bob. But unfortunately, I can’t. With all restlessness across the Pacific, Cyclone doesn’t have much of a choice. Or time. Two squadrons designated at Atsuki are operating over their capacities. And it’s because most of the squadrons which are sent to support them don’t have a fucking clue!” Phoenix contested shaking her pretty head with concern.

“It’s true. Riot from Dambusters has been denied four times from coming back home and he has been in Japan for over seven months now,” Hangman said in all seriousness.

“This bastard is still alive?” Payback asked surprised. 

“I know, I'm amazed too!” Jake giggled. He and Reuben started to loudly comment on the exploits of the unknown to Bradley pilot. Despite his best efforts to be part of the conversation with the group, Rooster was soon deep in his thoughts. He didn’t anticipate the time he was off until Phoenix patted his armed. He jumped startled.

“Walk with me to the bar. Your bottle is empty and you are still behind us,” Natasha said with a wink. Rooster jumped off from the stool chair. They both headed to the bar. When Penny gave them two large beers, Natasha grabbed Bradley’s arm to make him stay. She looked at him carefully.

“You seem absent,” she said quietly.

“Don’t worry about it!” Rooster replied, hoping she will give up on pressing the subject. But Natasha Trace wasn’t the quitter.

“It’s not you to decide. What is going on?” Phoenix continued without concealing her concern. Bradley sighed. What choice did he have at this point?

“I just sold my parent’s house in Virginia,” he confessed reluctantly. Her big doe-like eyes widened.

“You DID what?!” she whispered visibly shocked.

“I sold the place. It’s done!” he raised his hands in resignation. She gasped, loudly shocked.

“That’s why you took a trip to Virginia?” she slowly asked with a petrified looked in her eyes.

“Yeah,” he confirmed with a heavy sigh. Phoenix put her palm to her mouth while processing what she just heard. It took her a second or two to comprehend the situation. After a moment she carefully moved closer to Bradley and cautiously put a hand on his back to bring him some comfort.

“Shit… Rooster, I am so sorry! Why didn’t you tell me? I would go with you. You shouldn’t have dealt with it on your own” she said with compassion in her voice. Her concern unexpectedly made Bradley feel a forming lump in his throat. Panic alarmed his brain. That was new. New and uninvited. He has never had a meltdown in front of any of his friends and it felt like he was about to lose this battle. He has never struggled with his composure concerning difficult stuff. On the other hand, he hadn’t been so much open about it with anybody in the first place. Maybe that was his grave mistake. Rooster shook his head like he was trying to cut off this sudden flood of thoughts. What was wrong with him? It was hardly the time or the place for him to deal with his feelings! He blinked and cleared his throat. 

“Because I thought it would be a simple formality Phoenix,” he finally blurted out.

Natasha loudly exhaled and raised her hands in disbelief.

“Selling your childhood house? Oh, Bradley!” she moaned shaking her head.

“I hadn’t been there since my mum’s death,” he admitted suddenly more to himself than to anyone in particular.

“You should have told me, silly!” she hugged him. He clumsily returned the hug feeling the lump forming in his throat again. Oh, not again! Rooster clenched his teeth and took a couple of breaths to remain calm. This wasn’t his usual behavior! Now he was alarmed by the state he found himself. Before any further unwanted reaction occurred, Bradley untangled himself from Phoenix.

“I know, I am sorry,” he whispered ashamed of how close he was to lose it.

“Don’t be. You shouldn’t have gone there alone,” Phoenix replied firmly scanning his face.

“Thanks, Phoenix. I really appreciate that,” Bradley replied trying unsuccessfully to form a smile.

“You’d better be! How are you feeling Do you want to talk about it?”?” Natasha asked softly with her brows furrowed. 

“Not really. There isn’t much to talk about. It was the right thing to do,” he scratched his head trying to cut the subject.

“Do you need anything?” she carried her interrogation visibly unsatisfied with his answers.

“This conversation is more than enough,” he answered with closed eyes.

“I worry about you. I always knew you have strong tendencies to go through something tough and casually drop a hint about it afterward when it was all over. You know that you don’t have to do stuff like that alone and be cool about it? You can perhaps talk to your best friend about the matter?” she asked softly putting her palm on his cheek.

“I know Nat,” he put his much larger palm over her small one.

“Good! I will leave you to it then!” she concluded with a hint of disappointment in her voice. Bradley sighed with relief. He was thankful that through their long-time friendship, Phoenix always knew where was the line concerning pushing uneasy topics. Even if she wasn’t satisfied with his answers, she would never carry away with her investigations. She knew that he needed more time to open himself up about his cares and difficulties. Rooster was eternally grateful for her never-ending understanding and patience. This time he finally managed to form a genuine and wide grin. He grabbed the brunette in a bear hug.

“Thanks, Phoenix. You are the best, I mean it!” he said with honesty. 

“I know. I am glad we are on the same page!” she said back chuckling. She grabbed her bottle of beer and headed back to the squad. Bradley sighed and looked down at his glass. His smile faltered.

What he failed to mention Natasha, was the true reason for his current state. Selling his parent’s house was a formality with no hard feelings by his side. He had stopped associating himself with this place since his mum’s death. He didn’t even bother himself with visiting the place during university and later academy. Truth be told, he should have sold it years ago.

On his last day in Virginia, when Bradley was alone at the bar with a glass of liquor, a sudden reality struck him. The thought was overwhelming and soul-crushing. Almost twenty years later after Carol’s departure, he couldn’t have named any place that made him feel like he belonged. And, what was worse, he didn’t have anyone to associate with a home feeling. The urgent and painful feeling of longing has never left him ever since. It was the first time Bradley has ever admitted to himself that he misses having a family or even someone who simply waits for him, a place where he feels comfortable and safe. 

He tried to rationalize his feelings. He had his friends. After the uranium mission, it wasn’t just him and Phoenix anymore. He forged friendships with Bob, Hangman, Payback, Fanboy, and Coyote. They called themselves the Dagger Squad. He attended a gym with Hangman. Threw dinner meetings with Coyote who had turned out to be the same cook freak as Bradley. Played poker games with Payback, Fanboy, Bob, and Phoenix. But even the dagger squad members had their own families or were in process of making it on their own. Jake and Natasha both had big families with a bunch of siblings and cousins which cause them problems with remembering names when a family gathering occurs. Fanboy had his head over his heels with his fiancée and was in the middle of planning their wedding. Payback recently attended his daughter’s first play in kindergarten. Coyote just married his high school sweetheart. Bob hosted his siblings with all his nephews and nieces from Colorado. Bradley secretly and silently envied them all. The only person to Rooster who was the closest to call a family was Maverick. The very same Maverick who just settled and married recently his long-time love- Penny Benjamin.

There was a time when Bradley loved being a lone wolf and savored his freedom and independence. The feeling that he didn’t owe anything to anyone. The lack of burden that up in the sky, he must have had in his mind his kins or someone who relied on him. He had thought it was liberating at the time but after Virginia, it felt meaningless and shallow. Bradley Bradshaw was on his own and always had been. But he has never before felt lonely. And right now, even surrounded by his friends, his brothers, and sisters in arms, he has never felt that lonely. 

Atsuki, U.S. Naval Base in Japan

Ultra was sitting outside the barrack, listening to the party which was taking place inside the premises. It was late at night. The horizon getting brighter was an indication of the approaching morning. Her squadron and a couple of Korean and Japanese aviators threw her a farewell party. It was getting a little bit out of hand from the moment when participants had decided to play Twister with penalty shots for a loss. When a Korean pilot started a dispute with his Japanese friend and they began to quarrel about the history of their countries, not the game itself, Ultra decided that it was the right moment to go outdoors before the whole affair gets bloody. And here she was, sitting on the bench, sipping a bottle of wine and savoring the coolness of the night’s air.

Her solitude was short. A creaking sound of the door being opened snapped her from her thoughts. When she recognized the approaching man, she smiled contently. Wayne Black callsign “Riot” was the captain of her squadron and one of her most trusted people from the Navy. Handsome as hell, forty-something Irish with piercing pale blue eyes and raven black hair, used to have reputation of the playboy, now was settled and married to a naval nurse who kept him up to his toes. To Ultra Riot was like her older brother who couldn’t resist an opportunity to tease her, but at the same time felt very protective of her.

“These amateurs are all hammered already,” he said disgusted, lighting his cigarette.

“I know!” she chuckled. Riot sit next to her on the bench and gave her an inscrutable look

“So,” he inhaled the smoke. “What is up with your ass?”

“What do you mean?” she asked, surprised by his interrogation. Riot snorted at her reply.

“I know you, Jenny girl. Something is bothering you. Talk to me!”

She hesitated for a bit and then sighed heavily. She knew whatever excuse she would give Riot to skip the subject, Riot would not give up easily. And he was right, something was bothering her. With another sigh she decided to tell him about her doubts. 

“It’s just I thought I would be more excited about this whole Top Gun thing. And I am not. I feel nothing. All I could ever care about since I joined the academy, was being enlisted into the Top Gun program. Now, when this is happening, I just don’t feel a damned thing. On top of that, O’Malley made a grand speech about me being a prodigy of my generation and it just doesn’t feel right. I don’t know, maybe I’ve lost it!” she rubbed her eyes and smiled. Suddenly she felt exhausted and not herself.

“Oh boy!” Riot whistled taken aback.

“I know, right?” she chuckled bitterly. Older pilot observed her for a longer moment and then took a deep breath.

“You don’t feel anything because for the most time of your career, you weren’t flying for yourself, but to impress others and to prove that you are much more than Jester’s evil spawn,” he stated.

“I don’t need to impress anybody! How could you say that?” she raised her voice in disbelief and outrage.

“Oh really? So you are telling me that being the best in the academy, getting your skinny ass into the most hardcore squadron weren’t you trying to impress your old man and naval doubters that Jester's fawn-looking daughter could possibly be better than anyone? Interesting!” he replied to her outburst politely, looking at her like he just saw an endangered species of a rare butterfly. She exhaled loudly and raised her hands in defeat. Riot chuckled and put his palm on her arm.

“All I am saying is that you should fly for yourself. Do whatever feels good to you, not what anyone expects you to do. Even if it means not being on the top,” he replied softly.

“Well, O’Malley expects me to win in my class,” Ultra said bitterly with disgust in her voice. Navy’s  expectations from her was very high from the very beginning. Higher than from her peers and colleagues. She had got used to it. There was a time when she even enjoyed the ride and the chase. She was accustomed to live under constant pressure of producing the best effects. So why now it started to annoy her and made her feel uncomfortable? It was unfamiliar to her.

“Fuck him. He is trying to produce another Maverick for as long as I can remember. This is his ambition and he is using your desperate urge to impress the whole world for his own purpose,” Wayne said visibly annoyed with the concept.

“I always knew it. Until this Top Gun thing it didn’t bother me much,” she said with resignation in her voice.

“So what has changed, Jen?” Older pilot furrowed his brows visibly worried.

“That is what I am trying to figure out. Maybe I am getting old and soft, I don’t know. I wish I knew!” she growled, annoyed. Lack of answers to her own thoughts was another thing with which Ultra was unfamiliar with.

“We all are going to die someday Jennifer,” Riot couldn’t ’simply resist the temptation to bring some humor. Jennifer shot him a look flabbergastered.

“Oh, would you stop with your truisms already!” she slapped him in the back, but her wide grin gave her away. They both laughed.

“Hey, there is nothing bad in being soft, you know,” Riot kissed her on the cheek affectionally.

“I know, Wayne. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be married to Maggie,” she smiled.

“Maggie is the saint. Period. But at to the point. Is it possible that you got tired of being an aviator and all pressure which you must have endured since the day one?” Riot asked carefully watching her with wary eyes. Ultra frowned and stayed silent for a bit. When she looked up, there was still confusion in her eyes.

“I love flying. I love being a fighter pilot. But what if it is not my only desire in life? I have this annoying feeling like I am missing something significant out but I can’t put in words what exactly it is,” she said slowly. She closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose. There. She finally said it out loud. But instead of relief she felt that her confusion and anger increased.

“I must admit, it took you long enough,” Riot commented slowly. Ultra opened her eyes and looked at him questioningly. Captain smiled genuinely.

“That the world does not end with the Navy.” he went on. Ultra looked at Riot with disbelief and snorted loudly at his remark.

“Really? Groundbreaking. Thanks for nothing!” she teased him. He pocked her between her ribs, making her giggle.

“Are you for real?! I am really trying to help you and you mock me!” Riot whined.

“What did I say about your truisms?” she protested causing him to poke her more.

“Be serious for a moment!” he complained. She raised her hands in peace. He shook his head with disapproval and then sighed.

“I don’t have a universal remedy for your situation. But what I can tell you is that having doubts is a sign that everything is okay with you. Second thoughts are healthy and necessary. It means that you know that the world can offer you something else and something more than pompous naval titles,” Wayne said very seriously. She didn’t reply to his statement immediately and stayed quiet for a while, deep in her thoughts. Riot could almost see her mind working vigorously. When she straightened her back, Wayne knew that she came to her own conclusions and nodded his head with satisfaction.

“Thank you for your wisdom, Riot!” she spoke in a playful manner, but Riot saw in her eyes that she meant each of her words. 

“Anytime, Jen-Jen. Now, come on, and let's get shit-faced. This is your farewell party after all. I hid a bottle of vodka!” he grinned mischievously like a little boy who misbehaved and was proud of it.

“Oh captain, my captain!” she joked.

“Dead Poet Society, huh? Give me a couple of shots and by the sunrise, I shall give you my Shakespeare’s declamation!”

“You mean AGAIN?!”

Their laughs echoed in the night.

Sidenote: I hope, you've enjoyed it! On the one hand, I am stressing out about your feedback guys (which is more than welcome, please feel free even to write to my inbox)! Nonetheless, I am proud that I was able to produce some writing since English is not my native language!

#Goosebumps & Ultrasounds #Jennifer Heatherly #Ultra #Jennifer Ultra Heatherly #Bradley Bradshaw x female OC #Bradley Bradshaw x OC #Bradley Bradshaw #Bradley Rooster Bradshaw #Lieutenant Rooster #Lieutenant Bradshaw #Bradley Bradshaw fanfiction #Bradley Bradshaw fic #Rooster fanficition #Rooster fic #Top Gun Maverick fanfiction #Top Gun Maverick fic #TGM fanfiction #TGM fic #Top Gun fanfiction #Top Gun fic

[topgun-imagines]

Say My Name

Requested: no

Summary: You find out just how big Bradley is. He really does live up to his call sign.

Word count: 3.4k

Note: banner by @lewmagoo

Warnings: smut, oral sex (f!recieving), fingering, anal fingering, size kink, overstimulation, unprotected sex, cum play. Please let me know if I missed anything!

Pairings: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x fem!reader

The air in the bedroom was filled with tension. You were on your third glass of wine and Bradley had just begun pouring his second. Nerves surged through you. Tonight, you were planning on having your first time with Bradley. While the two of you had been dating for nearly seven months, you had yet to sleep together. The thought had you nervously fiddling with the hem of your short skirt.

Bradley had made the two of you a nice dinner before leading you to his bedroom. Despite how much you wanted this, you couldn’t settle the butterflies in your stomach. Sure, you had slept with others before Bradley. However, given the things that you had heard about him from his fellow pilots, you felt more nervous than usual as you stared at the gold chain he was wearing. You had done some sexual stuff with the pilot before, but you had yet to see what he was packing. Honestly, that was what had you the most nervous.

No matter how hard you tried to ignore the teasing from the rest of his squadron about his size, you simply couldn’t. Not when Jake kept making crude remarks about his callsign having some sort of double meaning and teasing you about what he saw in the locker rooms. You could never get away from it. Now, you couldn’t help but find yourself staring at the bulge straining in his jeans.

His deep chuckle was what broke you out of your trance. “See something you like, Princess?” There was a teasing lilt to his voice. You blushed deeply, sipping the last drop of wine from your glass. “C’mere.” He rasped. Instantly, you obeyed, crawling into his lap and straddling his thick thighs. His glass was set on the nightstand before his hands came to sit on the tops of your thighs.

The tickle of his mustache as he peppered kisses across your neck had you squirming in his lap. You clenched around nothing at the guttural groan he let out. From where you were sitting right now, you could tell he was big. Moaning quietly, you nearly melted when Bradley gripped your hips and pulled you down closer to his growing bulge.

“Bradley,” You moaned out with barely concealed need. Another grunt was released into your neck. “Fuck,” Panting with your head tossed back, the feeling of Bradley’s lips travelling down your chest had you shivering. “I need you. Please.” It was the neediest sound you had ever made in your life.

Time seemed to stand still as Bradley lifted you off his lap. You whined at the loss of warmth before laid you down on the bed and crawled on top of you. Cooing quietly at your pitiful whine, the pilot smirked at your frantic state. As Bradley continued to kiss down your neck, your chest was rising and falling quickly. “I’m gonna make you feel real good, baby girl.” His words were a promise; one that you knew he would make good on.

Your blouse was slowly unbuttoned as Bradley peppered kisses across your soft skin. When he finally reached the last button, you were out of breath, panting loudly. Now, you were left in nothing but your lacy bra and short skirt. Unbeknownst to Bradley, you had nothing on under that skirt. Feeling Braldey’s mustache tickling the sensitive skin of your stomach had you wanting to giggle. But the pleasurable warmth in your core had you moaning out instead.

Next, Bradley began massaging your thighs, shimmying further down the bed until he was level with your thighs. You breathed in deeply, nerves rearing their ugly head again. Ever so slowly, Bradley reached under you and pulled the zipper of your short skirt down. It took every fibre of your being to focus your breathing. Bradley had eaten you out before, but knowing what would be coming after had you shaking.

Your legs parted enough so that Bradley could slot in between them, knees bending and feet planted firmly on the cool sheets. Before you even realized what was happening, Bradley had your legs tossed over your shoulder and he was softly nipping the sensitive insides of your thighs. When Bradley lifted his head, he was met with the sight of your bare, puffy cunt. He groaned loudly, his cock managing to harden even more in his tight jeans.

Seconds later you were met with the feeling of Bradley’s tongue running over your slit delicately. Instantly, a sharp cry escaped you. Tangling your fingers in your boyfriend's curly hair, you tugged when his lips sealed around your clit. The feeling had you arching off the bed, your heels digging into the pilot’s back.

For the next few minutes, the only sounds that could be heard in the room were your loud, wanton moans and the lewd sounds coming from between your legs. Bradley’s tongue was now prodding against your entrance, teasing you relentlessly. You found it hard to breathe as cry after cry escaped you. Slowly, your high began building. When two of your boyfriend’s thick fingers pushed meticulously inside your weeping cunt, your back arched so hard off the bed, Bradley had to pause to make sure you were okay.

The grin on his face when he heard your needy whines was nothing short of devious. Without hesitation, he returned to sucking on your clit and working his fingers in and out of your slick entrance quickly. “Oh!” You cried out from the delicious

Bradley was relentless. His thick fingers stretched you open deliciously, making a scissoring motion as he licked around your greedy hole. Your moans slowly grew higher and higher in pitch. Outside of your field of vision, Bradley brought his other hand up and between your legs. The sudden press of his thumb against your tight, puckered hole had you nearly screaming. “Oh, my god.” The words were slurred together. That familiar coil in the pit of your stomach was almost ready to snap.

The tip of his thumb suddenly slipped into your tight hole, creating a delicious pressure. More slick leaked from your slit. As Bradley’s fingers kept up their pace inside of your puffy cunt, the squelching sound got louder the wetter you got. There wasn’t a single coherent thought in your mind as Bradley’s thumb pushed further into your ass, his fingers stretched apart even further and his lips sealed around your clit. All at once, he sucked on your clit harshly, pressed his fingers into your sweet spot, and pressed his thumb in as far as possible.

You were so close. In a few seconds, you would be gushing around his fingers. “Bradley,” You panted, fingers gripping his brown locks like a lifeline. “Stop.” He froze instantly, eyes snapping up to meet yours. His fingers slowed until they stopped and his thumb moved to draw back. But when you whined at the sensation in your puckered hole, he stopped his movements altogether.

“Honey?” He started, rubbing your thigh softly and smearing your slick on your smooth skin in the process. “What’s wrong.?” It was whispered into the soft skin of your stomach The tickle of his mustache against your stomach had you giggling. Even though your core was clenching around nothing and you could still feel his finger moving slowly inside your ass. Regardless of the worry bubbling in his chest, Bradley smiled at the sound of your laughter.

You offered him a blissed-out smile, moaning softly at the movements of his thumb. “Nothin’,” At those words, Bradley slipped his fingers back inside of your dripping cunt. You were so wet that there was zero friction as he pushed them in until the second knuckle. You were instantly whiny again. “Wait,” You tried again. This time, Bradley only slowed his ministrations. “I wanna come on your cock.” The widest grin you had ever seen broke out on your boyfriend's face.

Teasingly, he leaned down and allowed his tongue to flick over your clit. A chuckle escaped him. You had no idea what you were in for. “Honey,” There was a teasing lilt to his voice. “You’re gonna need at least two before I even think about letting you cum on my cock.” His words caused you to let out a shuddering breath. Sure, you knew that he was big. After all, you couldn’t go anywhere without someone reminding you of that fact. But his words caused you to wonder just how big he was.

Before you could snark back, his thumb pushed in as far as it could and his lips sealed around your clit. Crying out again, your heels dug further into Bradley’s back and you pulled so hard on his curly locks you thought that some of the hair would come out. Instead, he groaned and began slurping harder. Within seconds, you were gushing around his fingers, cuming so hard you could have sworn you saw stars.

As you were coming down, Bradley drew his thumb from your ass and pulled his sticky fingers from your core. Your cum slowly dripped down your opening. Once you were coherent again, your eyes slowly looked down at Bradley. He was transfixed on the sight between your thighs. The tip of his index finger slowly began to swirl through the creamy mess between your thighs. It dipped shallowly into your opening and scooped out some more of your cum.

The overstimulation was almost becoming too much for you. Now, Bradley’s finger was swirling your cum around your sensitive clit. Your whines were breathly, so much so that Bradley could hardly hear them. Nevertheless, he continued, drawing moan after moan from your parted and chapped lips.

Within minutes, you were right on the brink again. Feeling that delicious pressure building faster than ever, you shifted your hips until Bradley’s face was, quite literally, buried in your slick cunt. As you tipped over the edge for the second time in a matter of minutes, Bradley stared at your expression in awe.

Your legs were shaking. So much so that Bradley was almost convinced he went too far. But when your eyes fluttered open, Bradley could see the pure pleasure swimming in your eyes. “How was that, Honey?” There was a low timbre to his voice as the coarse hairs of his mustache rubbed against your smooth thighs. Your breathing was heavy and your fingers couldn’t stop twitching, but you had never felt better. So that was exactly what you told him.

“That was amazing,” You sat up, half expecting Bradley to push you back down and pull another orgasm from you. Crawling up your body, one of your boyfriend’s large hands rubbed at your side before grabbing your tit. A soft moan escaped you before you grinned up at the pilot. “But, I think you know that I want something else.” Your words were punctuated with a soft squeeze of his rock-hard cock.

The groan that he released was nearly primal. With one last passionate kiss pressed to your lips, he slowly, almost teasingly, unbuttoned his jeans. Then, he peeled his black boxers off his toned and muscular thighs. Your eyes were fixed between his legs, not blinking as you came face to face with his sheer size. “B-Bradley,” You stuttered, beginning to shake slightly. Snapping your eyes up to meet his, your boyfriend had a smug grin on his face. “There’s no way that that’s going to fit.”

The chuckle that escaped him was nearly mocking. “Yes, it will.” Those were the last words he spoke before he was leaning over you again. His hard cock rubbed into your thigh while he was sucking dark marks that contrasted against your unblemished skin into the side of your neck.

After a few minutes of nothing more than kissing softly, Bradley finally pulled back. His hands were warm as they rubbed softly over your sides, an attempt to soothe you that didn't go unnoticed. “Are you ready, baby?” Regardless of the fact that you couldn’t tame the nerves fluttering in your stomach, you nodded. With a smile, he kissed your forehead. Against your skin, he whispered that he was going to get a condom and the lube.

You stopped him. For the first time tonight, you felt one hundred percent prepared for what was about to happen. “No,” Bradley looked at you confused, wondering why you had changed your mind. Kneeling next to him, you placed one hand on his bare chest, stroking the tanned skin softly. Seductively, you whispered in his ear. “No condom. I wanna feel you.” You were on the pill, and you knew that both Bradley and yourself were clean.

His breathing seemed to stop and then there was a wide smile on his face. You squealed when he kissed you passionately, laying you down on the bed and leaving you breathless as he disappeared in search of lube. The sight of his bare backside walking away had you giggling dreamily. When he returned from the bathroom, you were met with the sight of his shockingly large cock between his legs. At that sight, you didn’t laugh as much.

For the next few seconds, you and Bradley were quiet. Soft touches were shared between the two of you before your boyfriend pulled back once more. His fingers dipped between your legs, checking to see just how wet you were. A soft moan escaped you as he swirled your slick around your clit. The next thing you knew, you could hear the cap of the lube snapping open. Suddenly, you felt the cold drop running down your slit. A hiss escaped you before Bradley slipped his fingers into you once more.

The next few minutes were spent with Bradley opening you up even further than you already were. You could feel that familiar pressure building once more. But, instead of Bradley leading you over that delicious edge, he stopped right as you were about to tip over. You groaned.

With a chuckle, Bradley slowly crawled up your body. “You ready, baby?” You could only nod, wanting nothing more than for Bradley to be seated inside of you. As he poured some more lube onto his hand, you got a sinister idea. The thought had you smirking. However, you were stopped in your tracks as you watched Bradley wrap his hand around his thick cock. His fingers couldn’t even touch.

For the first time tonight, you found yourself focusing on his cock. It was long, longer than you had seen before and curved toward the end. His tip was an angry red colour and as he stroked himself, you could see the pre-cum leaking down his shaft. Your eyes traced the vein that ran up the bottom before your eyes snapped up to your boyfriend’s. He had caught you red-handed.

Now, you decided to act on your plan. Before Bradley could realize what was happening, you had flipped him over and were straddling his thick thighs. He looked up at you in shock. With one hand, you gripped his cock and with the other you stabilized yourself against his chest. Biting your lip, your eyes locked with his as you began to stroke him. After a few seconds of building up your courage, you slowly sank down on him. Your warm and slick cunt sunk down onto his fat, mushroom tip with hardly any resistance.

Within the first few seconds, you were a moaning mess. There was less than two inches inside of you and you were already losing your mind. You couldn’t even begin to fathom taking the rest of him. Bradley could sense that you were struggling, so, your boyfriend’s hands gripped your hips. Slowly, he helped you sink down onto him. The breath rushed from your lungs in a matter of seconds. Now, you were just over halfway down Bradley’s cock and you felt like you were being split in half.

“That’s it, Princess,” He encouraged you as your greedy cunt swallowed another inch of him. “Doing so good.” With careful movements, he pulled you down until your head was resting on his chest, the steady sound of his heartbeat under your ear. Ever so slowly, Bradley pulled down your hips until they were flush with his. The second he was fully seated inside of you, you let out the most pornographic moan Bradley had ever heard.

One of his hands grabbed your ass and the other cradled the back of your head. The next few minutes were spent with Bradley simply letting you adjust to his size. His sheer girth had you whining quietly against his skin, sticky with sweat. After about four minutes, Bradley planted his feet and shifted slightly. That caused the tip of his cock to press right against your sweet spot. Once again, you couldn’t help but moan loudly.

Ever so slowly, your boyfriend began rocking into you. With each thrust, Bradley would only pull himself out a little bit, leaving the rest of his pulsing cock stuffed inside of you. Then he would push back in, filling you to the brim once more. The feeling of his mushroom tip hitting your spot over and over again had you seeing stars. “Say my name.” It was more of a command than a request.

“Fuck, Bradley!” You cried out, hips beginning to raise and fall of their own accord. He grunted hips smacking into yours as he fucked you.

You grunted, feet planted firmly against the bed as he pistoned his weeping cock into you. “No,” He taunted, slowing his thrusts until he was hardly moving. “Not that one.” The realization of what he wanted you to do was almost enough to make you cum.

“Oh my god,” You rushed out, fist forming as you curled into his chest further. “Rooster!” It was almost a scream. The way the words rushed out of you so fast, Bradley was almost concerned. Almost. “Rooster, please. Please fuck me.” At that, Bradley moaned. He had never heard such a sweet sound as you begging for him to fuck you. It was music to his ears.

Loud moans and grunts filled the room as Bradley began to thrust harder and deeper. Now you were clinging to him, puffy cunt stretched out more than you ever would have thought possible. Your boyfriend gripped your hips harshly, raising you up on his thick cock before slamming you down onto him. That sent a sharp cry out of you, your face turning until it was buried against his chest.

Suddenly, your whole body tensed. Bradley, once again, had slipped his thumb into your tight ring of muscle. The moan that you let out was nearly a scream. Feeling his thick cock in your dripping core and his thumb pushing into your ass sent you reeling. “Imagine what my cock would feel like in this tight, little ass of yours.” He punctuated his words with a hard thrust. His thumb slipped out of your ass seconds later. The fucked-out look on your face wasn’t going away anytime soon.

This pattern continued for the next few minutes until Bradley's thrusts began growing erratic. You were so, so close. All you needed was a little bit more and you would be falling into blissful pleasure. Bradley gave you that little bit more in mere seconds.

His thumb pressed hard against your clit, rubbing the small pearl in circular motions. You found yourself clenching around him with your eyes rolling back. There was an obscene amount of your sweet release leaking out around your boyfriend’s thick cock. He held you carefully as you slowly came down from your high.

Before you had time to recover, however, your boyfriend was pumping his cum into you, thick, white ropes painting your walls. You shuddered at the foreign feeling. Regardless of the other guys you had been with before, you had never let any of them do what you and Bradley just did. His cock was still throbbing inside you. The feeling almost had you cumming again.

Ever so slowly, Bradley lifted you off his softening cock. It had you whining and whimpering. You clenched around nothing, his cum starting to leak out of you. It dripped onto his lap as he pulled your hips up. You were breathless as he set your hips down on his thigh, your cunt clenching desperately at the pressure suddenly placed on your clit. His arms wound around your stomach, holding you tightly against his sweaty chest.

In less than five minutes, you were drifting off against his chest, feeling his warm cum still dripping out of your puffy and abused cunt. Needless to say, the next day, you were walking with a limp.

a/n: Thank you for reading! Requests are open :)

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[beyondthesefourwalls]

The Over/Under

Summary: Your friends insisted that the best way to get over someone was by getting under someone else. But you had been over your ex for a long time before you ever signed the papers, and you had no intention on hooking up with anyone. Then an attractive man with a mustache that really shouldn't look as good as it does catches your eye, and you suddenly forgot why you were hesitant in the first place.

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 6.2K

Warnings: Language, smut, talks of divorce

Notes: Written as a fun little surprise for my best gal @roosterforme for her birthday today, because what better gift is there than porn shared amongst friends, am I right?

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“What about him?” 

“No way. I can practically feel that guy’s ego from here.” 

“Him?” 

“He looks like he’s barely old enough to be here.” 

“Okay, what about him?” 

“Hmmmm. Oooh. He’s cute. Hey, I think we found your guy!” 

The words were followed by an excited jab to your side, and you hissed out an “ow” as you swatted the hand that had done so. Your best friend wasn’t phased in the slightest as she grinned at you, her eyes already a little glazed from the tequila shot you had taken upon getting to the bar - the very patriotic, very uniform filled bar, that was not your normal stomping grounds by any means.  

Not for the first time since arriving a little less than thirty minutes ago, you huffed out a breath of disbelief. “Isn’t tonight supposed to be about celebrating being single again? Why are you trying to scope out guys for me?” 

“Because what better way to get over someone than by getting under someone else?” 

You couldn’t help but snort into your drink as you took a long sip. Truthfully, you had been over your ex-husband for a long time now. The divorce was nothing more than a logistical means to an end, which the bastard had dragged out for far longer than it needed to be. You had felt single for damn near years at this point, but as of earlier this week, you were legally so, as well. Finally. 

“And what if I want to be on top?” you dared to ask, raising a challenging eyebrow. “What then?” 

Your friends all burst into laughter, talking over one another as they weighed the merits of your question, unsurprisingly veering off into debates about the best positions for maximum pleasure. You rolled your eyes fondly, but tuned them out as you let your eyes scan the crowd. It was apparently their mission tonight to get you laid, which you honestly should have caught on to as soon as they had thrown a brand new lingerie set at you earlier that night. It was strappy and lacy in all the right ways and you hadn’t hesitated to put it on under your tiny black dress because it had made you feel good. Sexy, even. You deserved to feel that way just for you, so you had thought nothing of it. Now, though, their insistence made sense. 

Pure curiosity had you looking in the direction of the man they had been trying to point out. He had that classic All-American look to him, all blonde hair and dimples, and you could see his shiny white teeth from across the bar as he laughed with his friends. He was cute, you supposed, and everything that your type used to be. But now he reminded you a little too much of your newly-made ex-husband, and you felt nothing as you looked at him. You let out an internal sigh as your eyes shifted to the left. 

You paused, your head cocking to the side as you took in the man sitting beside him. Now he…oh, now he was something. He was very something. He was handsome in a way that was different from your usual type. He had dark, tousled hair that curled on his head, and a mustache that you’d normally find hideous but that only served to enhance his very attractive look. His features were sharp, with a strong jawline and eyes that you couldn’t quite make out the color of from this far away. He was dressed casually in jeans and a ridiculous looking Hawaiian shirt over a plain tee. Just like the facial hair, it was a combo that you were sure would look ridiculous on anyone else - like the pretty boy sitting beside him - but that he was somehow pulling off. Something about him seemed to exude confidence without being cocky, and it was intriguing.  

You took another sip of your drink, feeling your heartbeat a little faster with strange anticipation. In principle, you had been single for a long time now. You weren’t planning anything tonight, but you also hadn’t felt that familiar tingle in your tummy since before you got married. 

Your thoughts were interrupted as your friend jabbed you in the side again. "Cute, right?” she asked eagerly. 

You shook your head, your gaze still fixed on the handsome stranger. "No, not him," you said, your voice low. "The one next to him.” 

Your friends followed your gaze. "Oh, damn," one of them breathed out, her eyes widening with interest. "He's hot." 

You didn’t pay attention to whatever your friends were talking about as you stared, swirling the remaining liquid around in your glass. He was broad, and even seated, you could tell he was tall. He was thick in all the best ways, and you wanted to know what he looked like up close. Almost like he could feel you watching him, he cut his eyes in your direction. They connected with yours, and instead of shying away, a flash of boldness had you raising your glass to your mouth to take a small sip. You swiped your tongue over the moisture left coating your bottom lip, eyes never leaving his. A slow grin spread on his face and a thick eyebrow raised before he turned back to his friends. You smiled to yourself. It was a rare moment of feeling powerful and in control, and you relished it.

He was looking back at you now, and you felt a flutter in your stomach at the intensity of his gaze. You shifted in your seat, feeling a sudden urge to be closer. It was an unfamiliar feeling, and you didn’t quite know what to do with it.  It had been so long since you had tried to pick up a guy, and you weren't sure you remembered how

A moment passed and he looked away again. Feeling emboldened, you downed the rest of your drink and pushed out of your seat. “I’m going to get another,” you announced before you could talk yourself out of it. It was a bad cover and you knew it, and by the way your friends cheered and started egging you on, they did too. 

You took a deep breath as you tried to quell the flutter in your stomach. You made it a point to not look at him as you approached the bar. You leaned against the counter, ordering a tequila shot and splurging for the top shelf when the kind, pretty bartender asked for your order. You weren't sure if the drink would help settle your nerves or make them worse, but you needed something to distract you from the intense gaze you swore was burning into your back. 

She slid the shot across to you with a grin, nodding when you asked her to put it on your tab before quickly moving on to other waiting customers. That tingling sensation of being watched came back stronger, and you had to remind yourself to breathe when a warm presence leant against the bar at your side, facing you. You turned your head, and oh, wow. He had a smile on his lips that made your knees weak, and from up close, you could see faint scars that had faded with time. He had eyes the color of dark honey that sucked you in, and even that ridiculous mustache looked soft. Your whole body tingled at the proximity. 

“Hi,” you said, and you were surprised at how breathy you sounded. His smile widened as he looked you up and down.

“Hi.” His voice was deep and husky and you fought the urge to groan at how delicious it sounded. "Can I buy you a drink?" he asked.

You grinned, feeling a little giddy. "I just ordered one," you said, holding up the full shot glass. You felt embarrassment heat your face when a little bit of the clear liquid sloshed onto your fingertips, but you forced yourself not to break eye contact. 

He chuckled, cheeks tinting red, and leant in a little closer. "Then let me join you for one.” 

You pretended to think it over, humming in fake consideration. When you finally nodded, that charming smile of his turned just a touch toward a smirk. He called the bartender by name when she passed, asking for a shot of whatever you were having. The woman, Penny, huffed out a laugh that sounded amused but not judgemental as she efficiently poured it and slid it over. When she walked away, he raised it to yours. 

“Cheers,” he murmured, voice low. You shivered in delight. 

“Cheers.” You downed your shot, and he followed suit. The liquor burned its way down your throat, but you didn’t care. All you cared about was the way he was looking at you.

“What’s your name?” he asked. He sat himself down in the barstool you had been standing beside, and you couldn’t help but glance down at his legs, spread in a way that you would be standing between them if you shuffled just the slightest bit to the right. His denim clad thighs were thick and looked so inviting. When you met his eyes again, they sparkled like he knew what you had been thinking. 

“What’s yours?” you asked instead. You were trying to get some of that control back that you had felt on your walk over here. You inhaled a subtle deep breath, catching another whiff of his cologne. 

He chuckled lightly, ducking his eyes and looking at you through thick lashes that you envied. Your knees threatened to give out. “Bradley,” he introduced. He extended a hand. You took it, feeling the roughness of his palm and the strength of his grip. You couldn’t help but imagine those hands on your body, exploring every inch of you. You told him your name, and hummed in appreciation, repeating it. The syllables sounded like velvet coming from his mouth. “What brings you here tonight?” 

“Oh,” you breathed. You drew your bottom lip between your teeth as you contemplated how to respond. You were proud of your decisions - of finally being free. But you weren’t sure how that would come across to a stranger you could definitely see yourself having a good time with. “Just…celebrating,” you settled on. 

“Celebrating huh? Is it your birthday?” 

“Maybe,” you shrugged, hoping it came across as playful and coy. By the laugh he let out, you thought you had succeeded. 

“Okay, a woman of mystery I see.” 

You smiled, lifting a shoulder again, not bothering to confirm or deny. 

“Alright, mystery woman. Can I buy you a drink this time?” 

You glanced over your shoulder, catching sight of all of your friends. They weren’t even trying to mask how they were staring at you, one of them even shooting you a thumbs up that made you roll your eyes. Bradley was still staring at you when you turned your gaze back to his, and you got lost in those dark honey eyes. It was sobering how quickly and intensely you were responding to him. You couldn’t remember the last time a man had that effect on you. That aspect of your marriage had been dried up long before the ink on the paper was. When the two of you finally separated almost a year ago, you had spent the time focusing on relearning who you were on your own, standing on your own two feet. You were cautious by nature, and it had been so long since you felt desire toward someone - even longer since you felt desired in return. 

But when you shifted, you felt the straps and the lace comfortable against your skin under your dress, and you realized that maybe giving yourself the opportunity to show it off that night wouldn’t be such a bad idea. Maybe your friends had been onto something after all. 

“I’d like that,” you finally said, and he was already smiling as he opened his mouth to respond, but you held up a finger to stop him. “But I have one condition.” 

“Name it,” he said immediately. He was already waving down Penny behind the bar, and his lack of hesitation was so sexy. 

“We move out of sight of my friends. I’d rather not feel them watching us the whole time.” 

The laugh Bradley let out this time was loud and free, and you couldn’t help the giggle that escaped in return. His smile turned into a devilish grin and he leaned closer like he was going to share a secret. “Deal,” he said, “and also incredibly relatable. Don’t look now, but I’m pretty sure my friends are doing the exact same thing.” 

Now that he said it, it did feel like there were multiple sets of eyes on you coming from opposing directions, and you giggled even harder. Once your drinks arrived, he stood up from his stool and offered you his hand. You had been right about him being tall, and you had to tamper down the sudden urge you felt to climb him like a tree. Instead, you took his hand and murmured for him to lead the way. You followed him closely as he led you through the crowded bar, feeling his warmth radiating off his body. The spicy scent of his cologne was intoxicating, and you found yourself wanting to breathe him in even more. 

The cool night air was refreshing once you walked through the back doors and further down into the sand. Bradley kept a tight grip on your hand as you stumbled in your heels, but luckily it wasn't too far before he stopped next to a few sunken beach chairs. 

You could still hear the music and the chatter from inside the bar, but it was quieter. There were string lights along the railing and torches in the sand that provided the slightest bit of light to where you could still easily see around you. You were far enough away that you could have privacy, but close enough to where you could easily scream and catch someone’s attention. You doubted it would get to that, but it was good to know your self preservation instincts were still working amongst all the things this man was making you feel.

It was nice out here, you decided, and before he could ask if it was okay, you were letting go of his hand and sidestepping him to sink down onto one of the oversized chairs. You patted the spot next to you as you looked up at him, and Bradley didn’t make you wait before he was squeezing onto the seat beside you. He was so close that his thigh pressed a delightful line against yours. It was all you could do not to melt into him. 

You took a sip of your drink, the cold liquid providing some relief against the heat building in you. Bradley took a drink of his own, his eyes never leaving yours, and you couldn’t help yourself when you glanced down at his lips for a second; you wondered what it would be like to kiss them. 

“Tell me something about yourself,” Bradley said, breaking the silence. 

You thought for a moment, trying to think of something interesting to say. It was almost like you suddenly forgot every intriguing thing about yourself. You glanced down at the drink in your hand, swirling the liquid in the glass. “I’ve always wanted to learn how to fly,” you decided on.  

Bradley sat up a little bit straighter, and pressed just a little bit closer. “Oh yeah?” he asked, and he sounded genuinely interested, almost excited. “Planes?” 

“Yeah,” you nodded, and then couldn’t help the snort you let out. “Well my preference would be Superman style, but something tells me that won’t happen. So a plane will do.” 

He smirked a little, taking another sip. He licked some of the liquid off of his mustache, and you wanted to know how the beer tasted off of it, too. “You’d look good in the spandex tights, though. No doubt about that.” 

The line should have been gross and offensive, but coming from him, it felt like a compliment, and you couldn’t help but laugh as those butterflies erupted in your stomach again. “What about you?” you asked, and you didn’t know if it was your increasing level of comfortability with this man or the earlier tequila shot hitting your bloodstream, but you knocked your shoulder into his as you spoke. “Tell me something about yourself, Bradley.” 

His smirk fell into a soft smile, and either mischief or the reflection of the moon was making his eyes sparkle. “You won’t believe me if I tell you.” 

“Try me.” 

He leaned so close that your breath caught, and for a moment you thought he was going to stop the conversation all together and kiss you. You were ready for it, even. But instead, he leant just a little bit to the side and whispered to you like he was sharing a secret, his lips brushing your ear. “I’m an aviator,” he told you, and his proximity made it so that it took a moment for the meaning to register to you. 

“Oh my God,” you gasped, eyes wide, and he was already chuckling as he pulled away. “You fly!” 

“I do,” he laughed, the sound deep and infectious, before tacking on in further explanation that he flew for the Navy. 

“Wow,” you breathed, after he finished regalling you with more details about his aircraft and how long he had been flying, and the different planes he had gotten in the cockpit of over the years. He talked about it with a passion that you knew he wasn’t bullshitting or trying to impress you - he genuinely loved what he did. You toyed with the words before you spoke them, taking a deep breath and laying your palm on his thigh. You tried to keep your voice light and playful, despite your body humming. “Maybe you can teach me some time.” 

“I’d be happy to,” he told you, “if you think you can handle it.” 

It was a challenge, a proposition clear as day, and you knew it was your out if you wanted him to back down. But that’s not what you wanted. Not even a little bit. You swallowed thickly at how his gaze intensified. It felt like he was looking right through you like no one else ever has, and you liked it. 

“I think you’ll find that I can handle a lot of things,” you murmured, and even you were surprised at how raspy your voice came out - sexy in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time. “I’m more than what I may seem.” 

“So I’m discovering.” There was a moment of silence between you, but it wasn't an awkward one. Rather, it was charged with anticipation and desire. You could feel the pull between you, and you tracked the bulge of his adams apple as he swallowed. He cleared his throat and shook his head, and it was refreshing knowing you were having an effect on him, too. He held his half full glass up to yours, clinking them together once you did the same. “Here’s to discovering more.” 

It got later and later as you sat out in the sand talking and getting to know this beautiful man sitting beside you. And the more you learned, the more you liked. He had a sense of humor that matched yours and a voice that sent shivers down your spine, and you hung onto every story with rapt attention that he returned whenever you spoke. Bradley was easy to talk to, and you found yourself getting lost in the conversation. The warmth of his body against yours was addicting, and you found yourself leaning into him even more. 

“Can I make a confession?” you asked, after a particularly enrapturing tale of racing his best friend in an F-18 and almost getting caught doing so. 

“I want to know all your secrets,” he said in return, and you almost moaned at how smooth the line was. Instead, you playfully rolled your eyes before you chewed on your bottom lip, trying to figure out how exactly to say it. He waited you out patiently, the hand from the arm he had draped across the back of the seat a little while ago tracing your shoulder so lightly you almost didn’t feel it. Your empty glasses were in the sand in front of you, but neither of you felt drunk on the limited alcohol you had consumed. 

“I told you I was out celebrating tonight,” you started, and Bradley made a noise of recognition that let you know he remembered. 

“Is it your birthday afterall?” he teased. You laughed softly at the way he put you so at ease. 

“No, not my birthday. My friends actually insisted on taking me out tonight to celebrate some news I got earlier this week.” 

“Oh yeah?” 

“Mmm,” you hummed, before taking a deep breath. “My divorce was finalized earlier this week.” 

If he was surprised or bothered by your words, it didn’t show. In fact, he didn’t flinch at all, just sat as relaxed as he had been all night while his fingertips continued to cause goosebumps to erupt all over your skin from their contact with your shoulder. 

“How do you feel about that?” he asked, and you couldn’t help but marvel at his nonchalance. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but you don’t think it was this. You sighed happily in response to his question, and was delighted when he laughed a little. “That good huh?”

“That great,” you corrected. You shrugged, and his hand steadied on your skin, a nice weight on your shoulder. A soft smile played on your lips. You knew you didn’t have to tell him - truly, it was probably better if you didn’t. But something made you want to be honest with him. You tried not to read too much into that. “It had been a long time since he made me feel the way a man should make his wife feel, you know? We were over way before I ever served him with the papers, which was almost a year ago now. So it was a long time coming.” 

“Enough time to get over him?” Bradley asked. Your breath caught because you swore there was something like hope in his voice. You desperately wished you were right. Regardless, you didn’t hesitate in nodding.

“I’ve been over him for ages,” you confirmed. “Just took awhile to make it official.” 

He made another noise of understanding, and leaned in closer. He lifted a hand and your heart raced wildly in your chest at the way he cupped your cheek, his thumb tracing your bottom lip in a way that made you gasp quietly. The way he was looking at you made it feel like you were the only two people in the world. 

“He was a fool for letting you go,” he said, so quietly you wondered if he meant to say it out loud. 

Bradley leaned in closer, his lips hovering near your ear. You felt the heat emanating from him, and your body responded with a shiver. "You deserve to be wanted," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. You turned your head to look at him, and for a moment, you were lost in his dark eyes. You felt a sudden urge to kiss him, to taste his lips that looked so soft and inviting. You leaned in, closing the gap between you. 

The kiss was electric, sending shivers down your spine. His lips were soft and full, and his tongue was warm and intoxicating as it slid into your mouth. You moaned quietly, feeling a rush of desire pulse through your body. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. He responded with a low growl, his hands gripping your hips tightly. You went willingly when he pulled you into his lap.

You broke the kiss for a moment, gasping for air as his tongue slid along your chin, down your neck, leaving a burning trail of heat. He bit at your collarbone playfully, smiling up at you. It was wicked and full of promise. 

He used his grip on your hips to pull you down onto him, groaning at the friction. His own hips arched up to meet yours, and your head fell back as you both let out a moan. His teeth grazed along the soft skin of your neck, and you couldn’t help but claw at his shoulders and the back of his neck as you felt the rush of heat already pooling between your legs. He was hard, you could tell, and you wanted him so badly. 

You had no idea what was happening or what was going to happen next, but it didn’t matter. All you wanted right now was to feel his body against yours. You heard his breath hitch as you let your hands roam his chest, hard and warm against your palms, the muscles firm and toned. You let your fingernails drag down his abs, eliciting a groan from him, and you grinned in satisfaction. You wanted to see more of that reaction, see more of him. 

You moved to scoot back, intending to unbutton his jeans, but he grabbed your wrist before you could. 

“Let me take you somewhere,” he murmured, and you let out a breathy laugh even as you nodded. 

“Bathroom inside? Your car?” You leaned in for another kiss, but Bradley pulled back. He cupped your face in his big hands. The pad of his thumb rubbed a smooth line on your cheek.  

“You deserve more than a quickie in a bar bathroom or a parking lot, Sweetheart. Can I take you home?”  

“Yeah,” you breathed. You were blown away at how he continued to make you feel, how he was treating you like you were worth something. You wanted him so much, and you thought it was more than just physical, even as you were aching. 

Your friends were still inside, clearly having had more to drink while they waited for you, and flirting with a few men in uniform of their own. You made quick work of letting them know you were leaving, and you didn't stick around for their catcalling as you followed Bradley into the parking lot, your hand held tight in his. You were trembling as you sank into his front seat, and you know it’s not just from the chill in the air. 

He kissed you again before he put the classic Bronco into gear, your address plugged into his GPS. His hand was heavy on your thigh during the drive, and part of you was glad he didn’t do more than let it rest there, a reminder of his presence. You weren’t sure you could handle any more without losing control.

He pulled into your driveway and killed the engine, and for a long moment, the two of you just sat there, breathing heavily as you looked at one another. Finally, after a long moment, he raised that gentle hand of his and tucked some of your hair behind your ear. 

“Beautiful,” he whispered, and his voice sounded reverent. 

“Bradley.” You let out a shaky breath, swallowing down all of your nerves. “Come inside.” 

It was a miracle that you managed to open the door without dropping your keys as Bradley kissed down the side of your neck, and you pulled him inside eagerly. You didn’t bother giving him a tour as you guided him up the stairs to your room. There would be time for that later. 

You bypassed the ceiling light to turn on one of the bedside table lamps instead, casting a soft glow throughout the spacious bedroom. Bradley was right there when you turned, the two of you moving at the same time. His hands stroked down your sides as you pressed yourself against him, his mouth hot and hungry against yours. You let out a moan as your tongue tangled with his again. You threaded your fingers through his hair, just as soft as it looked, and tugged. He hissed out a low, sexy sound of approval. 

You pushed the Hawaiian shirt off his shoulders and then tugged at the white shirt underneath it. He took the hint, detaching from you to pull it off over his head, baring his chest. You stepped back for a moment and let your eyes wander over him. He was incredible, toned and muscular, and the light dusting of hair on his chest made you bite your lip. You wanted to trace the lines of his muscles with your tongue, feel him against you. Your eyes moved down to see his erection straining against his jeans, and you licked your lips. You were so ready for him, and he was ready for you. You could tell. When your eyes trailed back up to meet his, the look he was giving you was hungry. 

Before you could overthink it, you were tugging at the side zipper holding your black dress together and lowering it. You pushed it off of your shoulders and let it fall to the ground. Bradley blinked once, his gaze inevitably dropping. His eyes widened noticeably as a deep groan tore from his throat. 

“Jesus Christ, baby.” The wonder in his voice was evident as he took in the lingerie that your friends had thrown at you earlier in the night, and you made a mental note to thank them tomorrow. 

He seemed to be struggling for breath as he swallowed and stepped forward, sliding his hands up your sides to cup your chest. His thumbs brushed across your nipples, and you moaned at the sensation, arching into him. He leaned in and kissed you again before he began to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, over your collarbone, down to one breast. You dug your nails into his scalp, whimpering as you felt his teeth tug at your nipple through the lacy fabric. His tongue teased it, flicking over the sensitive skin. And then, with no warning at all, he was lifting you up and laying you down on the bed. You raised up on your elbows as he made quick work of taking off his belt and unbuttoning his jeans. He pushed them and his briefs down all in one go until they pooled at his feet. Your eyes widened at the site. His cock was hard and huge, and you grew wetter just looking at him. 

You held out your hand without a word. He crawled onto the mattress, looming over your body as he braced his hands on either side of you. He kissed you again, his mouth hot and hungry against yours. Your hand wrapped around the back of his neck, pulling him closer. He kissed you for a long time, so long you thought you were going to be drunk off of it. When he did pull away, it was only to trail his lips down your neck, making you writhe as his mustache brushed against your sensitive skin. His mouth moved to your collarbone again, then down to one breast, and then the other. You keened at the sensation. Then his lips were on your stomach, and he shimmied himself down the bed until he was between your thighs. Slowly, he tugged your panties down your legs. He spread you wide, his eyes never leaving your center. He leant forward and inhaled deeply, groaning at the scent - your scent. He pressed a featherlight kiss to the inside of your thigh where it was settled on his shoulder before looking up at you. 

“I’m going to devour you,” he stated. Before you had any time to react, his mouth was on you. 

He was ravenous, lapping at you as if you were the best thing he’d ever tasted. You felt it all the way through your body as he moaned against you, your body writhing against his mouth. You were so hot, so ready for this man to take you. You let out a loud moan as he licked your clit, then took it into his mouth and sucked. It was almost embarrassing how quickly he brought you to the edge as his mouth worked you over expertly. 

You don’t remember the last time a man had his mouth on you, let alone made you come from it. When you came, it was hard and loud, your hands buried in his hair, his name a mantra on your lips. He crawled back up the length of your body and kissed you, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. His thick cock twitched against your sensitive pussy, and the feeling of him settling between your legs was enough to have you pulling away from his kiss, breathing deeply. 

His eyes were dark with lust as he looked down at your body, and you felt your face heating up at his silent perusal. 

“I’m clean,” you whispered urgently, “if you want…” 

He answered you with a groan of your name, his forehead pressed to yours, his cock twitching. “I am too. You sure?”  You nodded, and without a word, you reached for him. You watched his face as you stroked him slowly. His eyes fluttered closed, and he leaned into your touch. He let out a throaty moan when you guided him to your entrance. 

“Please,” you whispered. His eyes opened as he slid into you, filling you up entirely. He stilled for a moment, letting you adjust to the feeling. He was so thick and hard inside of you; you felt so impossibly full. 

“You feel incredible,” he told you, still not moving, but you could feel how much he wanted to.  

“Bradley,” you begged, and he withdrew slowly until just the head of his cock was still inside of you, pressing against your clit. He slid back in again, filling you up until you couldn’t think of anything but the feeling of him deep inside of you. You could feel it all the way to the top of your head, all the way down to your toes, and you moaned as he pulled out and thrust back in again. 

His pace was tortuously slow at first, in a way that could only be deliberate, driving you crazy. You could feel every inch of him leave and enter you, over and over again. The feeling of him moving inside of you was almost more than you could stand, but still, you wanted more. You were ready to beg him to go harder, faster, but you didn’t need to as he finally, finally started to pick up the pace. You wrapped your legs around his hips as he found a steady, powerful rhythm. You cried out with every thrust, and he groaned out your name, his arms shaking with the strain of holding himself up above you. Soon, he was fucking you hard. Every thrust drove him deeper inside of you, hitting that spot that made it almost impossible to breathe. You could feel yourself getting close. 

“Come on, baby,” he panted. “Come for me.” 

You were drowning in him, and when he pulled you in for another kiss, there was so much passion you thought you might be swept away by it all. You’re not sure what to do with yourself, but you know you don’t want this moment to end. Your walls tightened around him as you let go, and you could feel him shuddering as he came with you. 

He stayed there, kissing you softly for a long time before he gently pulled out, rolling onto his back beside you. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you with him. You pressed a kiss to his chest before you rested your cheek on his sweaty skin, listening to his heartbeat as it began to slow. He kissed your head lightly, and for a while, the two of you just laid there, basking in the afterglow. 

It was Bradley who finally broke the silence, and your whole body trembled at his words. 

“Rest for a little bit, sweetheart. I’m not done with you tonight.”

Your pussy clenched. You could still feel his cum oozing out of you slowly from round one, and if you were honest with yourself, you had been wet since you first laid eyes on him. You picked your head up to look at him. Your voice was breathy with anticipation when you asked, “Is that so?”

“Yes. And then, I’m gonna convince you to let me stay the night. And in the morning, after at least one orgasm, I’m gonna cook you breakfast.”

Your breath caught and a lump formed in your throat. He said it so confidently, like it was an indisputable fact. You were surprised at how much you longed for it to be just that. 

This was not at all how you had anticipated your night going. 

“And after that?” You dared yourself to ask. 

He traced your cheek with a sated smile on his handsome face, his mustache twitching and his dark honey eyes sparkling. “I told you, you deserve to be wanted. And I want you.”

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

Main Masterlist

Notes: Happy Birthday Em! Thanks for being born. Hope you enjoyed this! Now go do fuckboy things and celebrate 🎉💚

Thanks to @mak-32 for the banner and for all of her help with this!

Tag List: @roosterforme @mak-32 @wildxwidow @gretagerwigsmuse @lilyevanswhore @too-fangirl-to-fuction @fav-fanficssss @notroosterbradshaw @teacupsandtopgun @sometimesanalice @sunflowersteves @littlezee80 @je-suis-prest-rachel @khaylin27 @infamous-reindeer @hotch-meeeeeupppppp @yanna-banana @avengersfan25 @wkndwlff @sylviebell @lt-spork @indynerdgirl

@mssleepy876b @kassieesworld @mizzzpinkk @a-serene-place-to-be-be @sexualparkourr @sadpetalsstufff @almostgenerallyalways @alilstressyandlotdepressy @ccbb2222 @taytaylala12 @shelbycillian @mavrellover911 @vici1111 @lunamooncole @blackwidownat2814 @pisupsala @bellaireland1981 @jynxmirage

@greatszu @na-ta-sh-aaa @callsign-magnolia @chaoticassidy @thedroneranger @cherrycola27

#alli writes #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x oc #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster imagine #rooster smut #rooster x reader #rooster x you #tgm fic #tgm smut #tgm fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley bradshaw smut

[bradshawsvinyl]

Begin Again Part Two

As a first grade teacher, you couldn’t help but fall for your sweet student and her very attractive Navy fighter pilot father.

Part One. Part Three.

Bradley could not believe his ears. He was pretty sure if he looked into a mirror his face would be tomato red. He had never felt more humbled in his life.

“I’m not sure where she got that from,” Bradley awkwardly laughed. “You know how kids are. They get confused sometimes. Right Tara?”

“But Daddy,” Tara started. “You told Aunt Phoenix that my teacher was…”

“Well,” Bradley said while looking at you. “We have to um get going. See you tomorrow Ms. Y/L/N.” He practically dragged Tara out of your classroom.

You politely smiled and waved. “Bye Tara! Bye Mr. Bradshaw!” You said.

Bradley and Tara leaving meant you finally had some time to yourself. You wondered if Tara was telling the truth. Bradley was right. You did know how kids are. Maybe Tara overheard Bradley’s conversation and got confused. That had to be why she said that.

The next day on base, Bradley practically ran to Phoenix. “What do I do? Phoenix please help me,” He begged.

Phoenix began walking towards the on base locker rooms. “Bradshaw, what the hell is up with you?”

Bradley made quick steps to keep up with Phoenix. “Yesterday, when I went to pick up Tara, she walked up to her teacher and told her that I think she’s pretty,” he said with a hint of embarrassment in his voice.

“Yikes Rooster,” Phoenix replied. “I don’t even think I can help you get out of that one.” She said before bursting into laughter.

“Phoenix please. What should I say to her today? Should I just ignore her or what? You’re the girl here, you have to have something I can do.” Bradley said, voice laced with desperation.

“Look Bradley,” Phoenix said seriously. “Just be honest with her. Tell her that what Tara said is true and that you meant no harm by it. I don’t know what else to say.”

Bradley sighed, said goodbye to Phoenix, and did the walk of shame to his Ford Bronco. It was time to pick up Tara again. It was time to see you again.

At school, Tara was the last person to be picked up again. You led her inside of your classroom and patiently waited for her father to arrive. At four o clock, he knocked on your door.

“Daddy,” Tara yelled while running to Bradley.

“Hi sweetie!” He said while giving her a hug. “Hi Ms Y/L/N.” He said with a polite wave in your direction.

“Hi Mr. Bradshaw.” You said politely. “Before you go, I just wanted to remind you that drop off is at 3 o'clock.”

“Crap,” he said while letting go of Tara. “Sorry. I’m a single dad and sometimes it’s hard to transport Tara from place to place. I fly planes for the Navy so my schedule isn’t very lenient.”

“It’s okay Mr. Bradshaw.” You said while smiling at him. “I have no problem keeping Tara after school for a few hours if it would help you.”

“That would mean a lot as long as it’s not an inconvenience to you.” He said. Bradley couldn’t believe you had offered to watch Tara for him. Finding someone he trusted to watch Tara while he was at work could be hard. Not only were you nice to look at, you were also just nice. “You can just call me Bradley by the way.”

“I’m Y/N then,” you said while holding your hand out for him to shake. “I’m happy to help you. I know it’s only the third day of school but Tara is one of my best students so far.” You said with a wide smile in Tara’s direction.

“Thank you so much.” He smiled while grabbing Tara’s backpack and jacket. “Oh.” He said while turning around to face you again. He quickly ran his fingers through his hair and closed his eyes before quickly opening them again. “About what Tara said yesterday,” he started. “I did say you were attractive in confidence to my friend. She must have overheard and I’m really sorry if this makes things awkward now, but I just wanted you to know the truth,” he rambled on, “But um yeah I apologize.” He said while running his fingers through his hair again.

“All is forgotten,” you said. “And for the record, you’re not too bad yourself.” You said, slightly blushing.

Bradley grinned. He couldn’t believe his ears. “I should probably give you my number,” he said while pulling out his phone. “You know since you’re going to be staying with Tara for a while after school.”

“Right.” You said taking his phone and typing in your number. “I’ll see you tomorrow Tara.” You waved. “Bye Bradley!”

When you checked your phone after getting home and showering you saw a message from an unknown number.

Hey, it's Bradley. I can’t wait to see more of you. And thanks again for helping with Tara.

You put your phone down and smiled. Then you thought of what to say to Bradley.

Happy to help! See you tomorrow.

You couldn’t wait to see more of Bradley either.

Authors note: I love writing these characters! Please let me know if you want part three. Happy Reading!

-Willow 🩷

#bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x female reader #rooster imagine #rooster x you #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster bradshaw fic #top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #my writing #rooster x hangman #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster x oc #bradley rooster bradshaw #miles teller #rooster fanfic #top gun x you #rooster top gun

[multifan2022]

Used to be yours

Masterlist

You were never part of Bradley's plan. The plan consisted of two things, getting into the Navy, and being a pilot. But the day he met you was the day his list grew, grew to include you, the constantly forgotten best friend of his most hated classmate. Jake Seresin. He would never forget his Tapout ceremony, because that's where his real story starts. 

You had known Jake your whole life so it wasn't really a surprise when he asked you to come to the ceremony. His father had also hated you for at least your entire friendship with his son. You, in his eyes, were nowhere near good enough to be associating with the Seresin Heir. It didn't matter that you had money of your own, sitting away in a trust fund. In Jacob Sr's eyes you were just the kid from town who's daddy had died in the line of duty. 

It didn't matter that said daddy had died while on call as a firefighter.. 

So when you were told to buy your own ticket, get your own hotel room and rental car you really weren't surprised. What did surprise you though was Jake barely even saying hi to you before he was introducing some girl to the rest of his family. The snarky smile she gave you and the little finger wave of condescension turned your stomach. The little life that Jake had unknowingly left there the night before not yet protesting, but the action caused your heart to squeeze in pain. Without having to speak, since no one was listening anyways, you walked away and to the bathroom. 

Your heart broke slightly when you came back and the entire Seresin family was nowhere to be seen. They had left, off to some fancy dinner without you. Jake had left.. without you.. suddenly the receipts for this trip flashed in your mind. The money for the ticket, room, the car you rented. The pretty black dress and shoes you bought to wear. All money wasted.. 

At least it was wasted until you turned around and noticed a group of high ranking Military men standing looking sadly at something. Side stepping a little you looked past them to see another man, still standing at attention, clearly waiting for no one but waiting all the same. You didn't know what took you over but suddenly you couldn't look away. Your feet moved towards him without thinking as you took him in. 

He was beautiful. Beautiful in a broken kind of way, the same way you always saw in yourself when you looked in the mirror. Scars on his neck and face came into view the closer you got. And when his brown eyes locked onto yours it was like the entire world faded. Like you could see yourself introducing this man to your friends, to your grandma. Taking him to your dad's grave without him laughing or being awkward like Jake did the one time you took him there. 

Bradley was shocked to see someone walking towards him. He wanted to turn and see who you were really looking for but he knew he was the only one left out on the field. He had seen Natasha pause wanting to turn around and tap him out. He could see her now from the corner of the field watching as this beautiful girl walked towards him. You stopped just in front of him and whispered a small hi. Clearly you were embarrassed, he was too. But when you asked in a voice much stronger if it was okay for you to tap him out he almost sagged in relief. When your hand came up to tap him on the shoulder tears filled his eyes. 

Without asking his arms wrapped around you, yours easily coming around to hold him just as tightly. For some reason seeing him left out on the field waiting for someone who couldn't show up made you understand him on a level that so many other people couldn't. You ask him to go to dinner with you and the two of you spent the entire night talking about your parents and his. Expressing how grateful you both were to have someone in your life for you, it was your grandma for him, his Uncle Maverick. Maverick was due back the next day meaning that when Bradley practically begged you to meet him you couldn't turn it down. 

The next morning when Bradley opened the door to the home he and Maverick were temporarily sharing, the wind was knocked out of his lungs. He had never been more sure than in that moment that his parents were truly looking out for him as his eyes took in the Hawaiian style dress sundress you were wearing. You mistook his awed look though, quickly explaining how your parents got married in Hawaii and how after your mother passed away your father took to wearing Hawaiian shirts to try and honor her memory. And how even after he passed away you tried to continue that tradition. 

Bradley stopped you with a soft smile even though inside he wanted to strangle whoever it was that made you feel so self-conscious about it. Gently he grabbed your hand and guided you up to his makeshift room pulling out a Hawaiian shirt that belonged to his dad and telling you a very similar story. It was the start of what would become a fairytale-like story. 

Three months later you were storming from Seresin family ranch and sprinting for your car. Positive pregnancy test fisted in your grip as Jacob's words replayed over and over in your mind. "No son of mine will be drug down by a bastard child." "You're just a sad little girl who's looking for a family" "He will never love you". After Jacob SR demanded he pay for an abortion you stormed out. His mother caught up to you on the porch, promising your child a trust fund and enough money to care for a baby for 18 years if you just swore to never tell Jake. 

You were suddenly thankful that your plane ticket was for the same day. Bradley was coming home the next day and Mav had asked you to pick him up from the docks. You were beyond excited to see him. Your love for Jake had faded every single day as you talked to Bradley. You were terrified to tell him though that there was a baby growing in you. One that was put there by someone who went out of his way to make Bradley's life harder. Someone who used the fact that Bradley's parents had passed away as a reason why he wasn't good enough to be a pilot. 

The next day your phone rang as this giant ship got closer and closer to the dock. Bradley had been staring at his phone for 10 minutes waiting to get enough service to call. He just wanted to know when the soonest he would be able to see you. He could hear the deep sadness and worry in your voice when you said you were waiting on the dock for him. He thought nothing could dampen the pure excitement he felt knowing that someone was waiting for him, especially someone he loved as much as he loves you. But he was proved wrong when he saw how puffy and red your eyes were. How your bottom lip quivered the closer he got. The only thought then was what he would do to make you feel better. 

And that's what he did for the last 10 years every decision Bradley Bradshaw has ever made has been made with the utmost care. When he adamantly wanted nothing more than to continue dating you. When he said he wanted to be there for the birth of your daughter. Another year later when he got out on one knee and asked you to become his wife. When two years later he begged you to let him adopt and make her officially a Bradshaw.  And potentially the biggest decision he's ever made to date, was made last week when Cyclone pulled all of the aviators and officially made them the dagger Squad. Everyone besides Maverick, Cyclone and Phoenix were shocked to hear the mustache man say that he needed to call and talk to his wife. The guys all sat around talking about how none of them had even known Bradshaw was married.  

Jake scoffed and rolled his eyes when Phoenix told him in a very hard voice that it wasn't any of his business. Jake never understood because no matter how hard he tried to reconcile and create a friendship with Rooster the man just constantly blew him off. It didn't matter how many times he apologized for bringing up his dad. Or for screaming nepotism when he found out that Bradley had grown up with Ice and Mav. Bradley held strong that he couldn't forgive some of the things the man had said. But Jake didn't know Bradley wouldn't forgive him for the words that he spoke to you. 

Bradley remembers the devastation on your face when you called Jake to tell him you were pregnant. It had taken Maverick and himself two months to talk you into it. And it was something Bradley hated remembering, hates that he had a hand in. Because he will never forget the look on your face when Jake told you he couldn't be friends with you anymore. That being friends with a young, single mother was bad for not only his family's reputation but his own. That he didn't want his higher up thinking he hung out with people who made bad choices. He hung up before you ever got the chance to tell him who the baby belonged to. 

Two months later an envelope arrived in the mail, inside were papers that broke your heart even more. Paperwork signed by Jake stating that he wanted nothing to do with any potential child. Bank account information as well as trust fund information for your daughter from his parents with a letter from his mother apologizing that they could have nothing to do with you or her. 

You never spoke to or of Hangman again, until your husband called and told you he had a possible permanent assignment. Told you the details and who would be there. You wanted to say no. Wanted to tell Bradley to come back to his previous team, back to the small home you had made for yourselves. But you could hear the underlying excitement in his voice. Could see the hope shining in his eyes even over Face-time. You knew being close to Mav and Ice would bring him joy. Being at TOPGUN made him feel closer to his father. Would give him an opportunity to become an instructor. You knew that you couldn't allow your past to destroy something beautiful in your future. Even if you knew that Rooster wouldn't complain a single time if you said you couldn't do it. But for him… you could do anything. 

Even at that something was seeing Hangman. And yes that was what you were going to call him because the person you remembered as Jake was the first person you had ever fallen in love with, a boy from your childhood who would do anything and everything to make you smile. Hangman was the guy who left you at his Tapout ceremony. The guy who left when he found out you were pregnant. The guy who had hung you out to dry and never looked back. While you were ridiculously grateful that he had saved your husband and surrogate father in law, you couldn't forgive him for everything else. 

That's why now Bradley was standing on the tarmac nervous as hell. Because he hadn't seen you or his daughter in months and of course Hangman had to be here with the group. Claiming he wanted to see everyone's happy reunions. Bradley had sent you a text stating that the blond was here, he just hoped you would see it before you got off the plane. As he watched the tires bounce on the ground he got a text. 

BeautifulGirl: Hen wants Mav to catch her off the stairs like always. Catch me BradBrad? 

BradBrad: Always Beautiful. Be the last off for me. ❤️

He leaned over and showed the text messages to Maverick who chuckled and shook his head even though deep down he absolutely loved having a tradition with his granddaughter. So together they stood and waited watching as Phoenix's girlfriend came rushing down the stairs screaming for her. As Bob's little sister brought over his dog, and as Payback reunited with his two daughters and wife before moving forward. 

Bradley turned back looking at the group, happy to find that Coyote and Hangman were being introduced to Payback's wife so they were too busy to watch. As soon as they reached the bottom of the plane stairs a beautiful little blonde girl with sea-foam green eyes threw herself off the second to last step and into the arms of her Grandpa, both of them laughing. Pete gently stepped out of the way so that you could throw your arms and legs around your husband pressing your lips together all in pretty much one movement.  He wrapped one arm under your butt, holding you too him while the other wrapped around your neck. It was a feeling neither of you would ever get used to or tired of. 

Being together, touching each other in any way was addictive. The two if you were always touching. Whether it was holding hands or Bradley's hand resting on your back or you sitting on his lap, you were always touching when you were together. Next to you you guys could hear Mav and Henley giggling. Bradley smiled whispering to you "I'm chop liver to her when Poppas here" you nodded brushing your fingers down his cheek. Mavs voice broke the little bubble around the two of you. "How about we go get some lunch and ice cream then my little Henny can stay the night." 

Hangman watched from the other side of the tarmac as Rooster and Maverick each carried someone away from the plane and towards Bradley's Bronco. There was something in the back of his mind and in his heart screaming to get a closer look. To know who this little girl was in Mavericks arms. To just see the face of the woman that was so tightly held against Bradley. But as he went to take a step forward Phoenix laid a hand on his chest and gave him a hard look while shaking her head. When he looked back up the little family was already loading into the Bronco. 

~

~

~

PART 2

#bradley bradshaw #rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster bradshaw fic #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x oc #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x y/n #rooster top gun #rooster x reader #rooster x you #rooster x y/n #topgun maverick #top gun maverick

[simpforrooster]

a very important meeting.

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x f!Reader

summary: you're on your way to your office when you get stuck in the elevator with the most annoying naval aviator.

t/w: cursing, some sensual material ahead, getting stuck in elevators

The elevator doors open, revealing a fighter pilot inside. Your stomach drops to your feet as you take in your worst nightmare. For a split second, you consider turning around and hiking it up 8 flights of stairs, but resign and join the pilot. 

He watches you settle into the opposite corner from him. You pull out your phone, deciding to ignore him during the quick ride up to your office. 

Bradley Bradshaw clearly has other ideas. “Hey, y/n,” he taunts. 

“Hi, Chicken,” you reply, not looking up from your phone. 

“It’s Rooster,” he corrects, those brown eyes staring a hole through the side of your head. 

“It’s cute that you think I care,” you tell him, sliding your phone into your work bag. The elevator numbers climb up past two. 

Three. 

Four. 

Five. 

Six. 

The sound of the elevator stopping between floors sends a new kind of dread through your body. The elevator lurches, throwing you into Bradshaw. His strong arms wrap around your waist, steadying you. You don’t miss the way he keeps them on you a second longer than he should. 

“Is there a reason you’re blushing like that?” he asks, his voice low. 

“Other than the fact that this is my worst nightmare, nope.” 

Rooster grins. 

“You’re insufferable,” you tell him, pushing him away from you. He answers you with his annoying laugh that you secretly love. 

Rooster reaches around you and presses the emergency button. Never taking his eyes off you, he tells the attendant about the mishap. Fear overtakes you as she tells Rooster it may be a few hours until they can get the elevator working again. 

“Guess we better get comfortable,” Rooster says. He slides down to the ground and pats the spot next to him. 

“You don’t have to pretend to like me right now, Bradley,” you say, sitting opposite of him. “This is torture enough.” 

A strange look passes over his face. 

The two of you barely tolerate one another, and it’s been this way for years. You can’t pinpoint exactly what caused the tension between the two of you. You also can’t pinpoint exactly when that animosity turned more toward flirting. Or when you looked at Rooster one day and decided that he was probably the most handsome man in the Navy. 

“You’re nervous,” he murmurs. 

“I'm stuck in an elevator with you, of course I’m nervous. What if I hurt you?” you say, trying to lighten the mood. This makes his lip pull up in the corner. 

Rooster stands, coming over to where you’re sitting. “Well, I’m nervous for a whole other reason. What if I kiss you?” He takes his hand in yours and pulls you up.

“You don’t mean that,” you whisper. 

“Oh come on, y/n. I flirt with you all the time.” Rooster takes a small step toward you. 

“No, you argue with me all the time.” 

He takes another small step, and your back hits the wall. “Riling you up is my favorite pastime. You’re so hot when you’re mad.” 

Did he just call you hot? 

“Don’t get my hopes up, Roos.” From this angle, it’s hard to ignore the height difference between the two of you. 

“Ah, so you admit all this between us has been flirting?” he smirks, bracing himself against the wall, his large hand just on the outside of your head. His other hand slides around your waist. 

“I don’t know what to call it,” you whisper. 

“You can call it me wanting you,” he says. “I’ve wanted you since the moment I laid eyes on you.” 

You don’t believe the words that are coming out of his mouth. He can’t mean them, can he? It must be the stuck-in-an-elevator-with-nothing-else-to-do talking. Those brown eyes seem to stare straight into your soul. There is nothing you want more than for him to kiss you right now. This man you’ve seemingly hated. 

But you know he’s right, all that hatred was actually flirtation. 

You’ve never seen him out with another woman. He’s never taken one home from the bar. Hell, you’re pretty sure you’ve watched him toss a phone number the second the girl turned away from him. 

At this realization, you can’t remember the last time you flirted with anyone who wasn’t the man in front of you. 

Hangman doesn’t count, he’s the resident playboy. It’s not your fault if you flirt back. 

Bradley leans in a little closer, searching your eyes for any hesitation. When he finds none, he leans in juuuust a little more. 

“Just tell me to stop,” he cautions. 

You absolutely don’t want him to. Craning your face up to take him in, he takes this as full-steam-ahead. 

As he crushes his mouth to yours, you would have been a fool to stop him. You’ve never kissed anyone like this. Kisses of urgency, longing, and honestly, breathtaking. It’s as if every other man you kissed was only practice. Bradley must feel the same way because you cannot mistake the groan that just fell from his lips. The sound buzzing against yours deliciously. 

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this,” he murmurs in your ear. Bradley presses his body into yours, tightly tucking you in between him and the elevator wall. His erection presses into your lower half, and if his bedroom performance is anything like his kisses… 

Your hands slither up his chest to grip his t-shirt. He smirks against your lips before changing direction and claiming your neck. 

“You taste every bit as sweet as I thought you would,” he says. “My fantasies don’t even come close.” 

A whimper escapes your mouth before you can grab it, letting him know just what his words are doing to you. He chuckles against your neck, that mustache of his feeling exactly as you thought it would. 

He’s not the only one with fantasies. Bradley’s hands reach for the top of your jeans, pulling you to attention. 

“Bradley, there are cameras in here,” you say. There’s no way you’re having sex with Bradley for the first time in an elevator. He just ignores you, pulling your mouth back to his, offering you hungry kisses. 

“You’ve never called me that before.” He pulls back just enough for the words to leave his mouth, and then he’s back to his ministrations. “I do not care.” 

“I do, my dad probably has access to them,” you say, killing that erection immediately at the mention of your admiral father. 

“Fuck,” Bradley concedes, dropping his arms from around you. He puts as much distance between the two of you as he can, his eyes promising more to come once this elevator is fixed. 

Rooster punches the emergency button again. 

“Sir, the crew is working as hard as they can to get the elevator operational.” 

“Let them know the admiral’s daughter is also stuck in here, and she has a very important meeting to make,” he responds, never taking his eyes off of you. Bradley drops his left eye in a flirty wink, that smirk on his face as equally delicious.

#top gun maverick #top gun #top gun maverick fic #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x y/n #rooster x reader #rooster fanfic #rooster x oc #rooster smut #rooster bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster imagine

[notroosterbradshaw]

The Boyfriend Experience - Part 2 /2

7k words of Rooster being your super wonderful, pretend plus one! A few swears, but it’s the Navy, goddammit! The fluffiness should make up for it. 

The Boyfriend Experience 1 / 2

“Thank God you didn’t catch the bouquet,” Rooster rolled his eyes as you wandered back, bored. "Could you look any less interested?" he bit back a smile.

“I could, yes," you told him, patting his cheek with a gentle thwack as he chuckled.

”Well, you made sure I didn't have a run there to fake propose in front of all these witnesses. Left my fake engagement ring in my dresser drawer back at base,” he snapped his fingers. "Fuck."

"You'd have really ruined this wedding if you proposed. Even you must know the lack of decorum of proposing at someone else's wedding. You probably wouldn't need to go to those extremes," you laughed quietly.

He nodded and grinned. "I'd guarantee you a life of no more wedding BS though."

"You're probably right. How long you been sitting on that?”

"Just came to me," he admitted. "But you can't tell me it's not an amazing idea to get everyone off your ass."

"Thank you for not going to those lengths," you said as his head fell back and he kept giggling. Yes, Rooster was a giggler after a few drinks. And it was adorable.

Looking back at you, he said, "I guess we're almost done though. Since I have this," Rooster grinned widely, flinging the bride’s baby blue garter at your face. You flicked it right back and he caught it easily. He'd mortified you that he'd made such a spectacle to get his mitts on it earlier in the evening - he literally speared a dude to get to the front and leapt over the Best Man to catch it. "My Little League coach would be so proud today."

"You're the worst," you reached for his whiskey as he looked on proudly.

"You disappointed us as a couple and missed the bouquet to boot but I forgive you because you've graduated to a very sexy drink. That's my girl," he raised his eyebrow, waiting patiently for your sip, which you did gladly.

"You're such a dick," you could only respond, handing the glass back as he chuckled, putting the garter back in his breast pocket, patting it safely.

"Taken you 30 years to figure it out - that's more on you than me though," he teased.

"Last song of the night, friends," the MC of the band announced as Rooster offered you his hand. "Your bride and groom are ready to kick into matrimonial bliss part of the night and we all have to head home at some point!"

"You're not getting out of this. It's our last dance as fake lovers," he said, giving you the creepiest bedroom eyes, or you supposed, that you’d ever seen. How had he managed to bed so many women if that was his game, you'd never know (you assumed it was probably a lot less effort than batting his lashes, to be completely honest), and you shook your head with a smile. He stood to his full height and offered you his calloused palm. You naturally accepted, lacing your fingers through his. You loved the warmth his hands gave yours.

"Can you never say 'lovers' again?" you asked, spirited, as he spun you under his arm, leading you to the dancefloor, laughing loudly.

"Never," he promised as the song began. The band started Elvis' "I'm All Shook Up", most people in the room made their way to the dancefloor and Rooster praised the gods. You liked the song but loved the joy it clearly stirred in Rooster more. You adored how much he loved music, though he admitted he was never taught piano, guitar, or even drums but was pretty good at each of them, or he liked to think so. He played by ear and enjoyed experimenting with sounds. You'd romanticised Rooster playing at home in the quiet, just for himself, tinkering with keys, strumming strings. It made you kind of weak to think of him creatively like that. He was certainly full of surprises and you were yearning to know more.

He was unlike anyone you knew - you'd learned so much tonight and appreciated the human he was more than just the talented pilot most assumed of him, you thought maybe he appreciated people thought he was fairly one-dimensional, he liked his space and privacy. "New one to learn for the bar?" you offered as he pondered the question.

"Shit, maybe," he contemplated with a nod and he pulled you close. While not an incredibly slow song, Rooster actually moved quite well. Yet another thing you had learned about him tonight and he pulled your back to his chest, keeping you pressed to him, his hands spreading across your belly, keeping a respectful amount of space between your bodies. He took your hand and spun you back to him, facing the other again and he smiled slow, a smile you'd certainly never seen before but enjoyed thoroughly as his hands moved to the back of your ribs, dragging you closer to him.

He loosened a hand and put your arms around his neck, the height difference between you bringing your body crushed against him and it felt kind of... perfect.

"Thank you for tonight," you said, just between the two of you. He smiled faintly, his hands caressing your back. Once he'd found access to skin, his hand kept a close touch all night and your back felt cold without it.

"It's really me that should be thanking you," he admitted, lips dangerously close to your ear and you'd deny it, but it shook you to the core. Looking at him, your feet stopped moving and the world may have stopped too. Here he was, right in front of you, just like he always had been... but he was completely new to you now. "I haven't had a night like this in a really long time," he continued earnestly. "Almost felt like a real date."

You had lost the ability to talk, because thinking about it later, you'd realise, this was the first of many nights like this. But it wouldn't pretend anymore. He would be yours, and you would be his right back. And the pretence would be gone; traded for romance that didn't need to be held back, touches on skin that meant something because it was their skin you'd touched so many times before, still able to draw the same spark as it had tonight.

Rooster's lips met your forehead, leaving a lingering kiss against your skin and you held him just a little bit tighter. "I got you, kid," he told you softly but wasn't quite sure why he added, "You're safe with me."

And you may have believed him.

"Do you two want a lift?" Annie asked as the festivities started to come to a close. The bride and groom had left, guests were starting to organise themselves to do the same, the band was packing up and the music was over for the generic 'get the fuck out of our venue now' muzak. After your last duties for the evening to help Sarah's parents collect the gifts and load their car, you went back to the table to collect your belongings, thankful it was all finally over... as well as the evening.

It was a long day, and saying you were exhausted, physically, mentally... emotionally, was an understatement. Things were a bit muddled to you now and you were feeling a little unhinged at the growing flutters in your tummy while so close to Rooster. He was currently holding your bouquet and your clutch like it was absolutely no big thing.

"Rooster, I don't think you should drive. I can get you both back. I'm the designated driver for another three weeks and one day," she looked at her belly, accusingly. "Unless you'd like to come sooner, please?"

"Shit," he muttered. He had probably had one or two drinks too many, he realised. Palming his keys in his pants pocket, he replied he would just walk back to base. Wasn't at all far, he had his credentials. Fresh air would sober him up anyway.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, absolutely. Thank you though. I'm sure your little sister will get me back safely," he joked entirely for Annie's benefit. But your feet, your poor feet were shredded. You gave yourself kudos, you'd done the right thing and kept your heels on the duration of the day, but all you could imagine was peeling them off and preparing for the onslaught of blisters and discomfort as soon as humanly possible.

"Okay," she grinned. "Take care, Rooster," she hugged him and he hugged her back, trying to avoid her baby bump politely. "So good to see you."

"You too, Annie," he replied fondly. "I had a great night."

"Don't be a stranger when you're in town. Let's do this again soon. Come over for dinner, bring her," she nodded to you.

"I might," Rooster gave her a shy smile and Annie hugged him again. "I'm thinking of moving back so you may be seeing a bit more of me anyway," he said and your ears pricked up, this was brand new information and your palms may have clammed up a little.

"You should, everyone would be so happy you're home," she told him.

"Definitely thinking about it," he promised.

"Good, Please get my sister home safely?" she warned him.

"Of course, she's precious cargo," he smiled as Annie kissed you and waddled over to Arron, her extremely drunk hubby.

"I could have gone with that lift," you told him as you watched them leave. Your poor feet.

"Nah, you're okay," he said. "Let's go for a walk."

"Rooster," you protested. "I might cry."

Rooster pouted. "Then I'll piggyback you," he broke into a smile as a few of the single bridesmaids said goodnight to you both. "Come with me. Got an idea," he urged, nodding towards the door, not waiting for you and taking off in his strides in that direction. Moving as quick and gracefully as the heels would allow, you caught him at the door where he took your hand and you followed him to the beach. It was pitch black minus the moon's reflection on the water, nearing midnight when he stopped at the edge of the grass to sand and watched him unbutton his jacket to sit. You did the same. "Feet, please?" he asked quietly.

Confused, you weren't sure why you offered him your left foot, but his fingers made haste unbuckling the silver heel you had been wearing for hours and hours.

"Gentle," he told himself as he pulled the off, and held his palm out for your other foot that you gratefully offered, the relief almost instantaneous. Putting your heels together, he lightly pressed into the arches of your feet, your ankles, your calves, the pain worth it for a few moments, looking at you with a gentle frown to make sure he wasn't hurting you, but it was definitely worth it. "Okay?" you nodded as he slipped off his jacket and left it in a pile with your shoes, purse and bouquet. He unlaced his loafers, took his socks with them and cuffed his slacks up to his lower calf although there was little give to them. "Shit," he muttered, pulling at the wrong piece of his bowtie and knotting it tighter.

"Here, Roost," you said softly, sitting up to kneel, he watched you in keen interest as your fingers worked to loosen the tie. Knowing he'd made it worse before it unravelled under your touch, you smiled as he happily unbuttoned the first few holes on his shirt, showing a little of his strong, golden chest and a light smattering of dark hair.

"Thank you," he said quietly. "Up," he got up slowly, finding the buttons on the cuffs of his shirt and rolling both to his muscular forearms. He smiled, offering his hand. He pulled you up, your sore feet sending you careening into him softly. He nodded towards the water and followed you through the sand.

The night was cool, but in the height of summer, not unbearable by any stretch of the imagination. Stopping right before the waves, you looked back at him.

"I promise you, those feet will feel a million bucks in about 15 seconds," and he hitched you into his arms, taking you out to his knees, lowering you amid squeals of cold and a now damp skirt around your thighs. He didn't give you space, he stood behind you, his hands resting on your belly, chin on your hair. You felt him sigh behind you.

"Dammit, Rooster," you cursed him although grinning in the madness, trying not to shiver as the waves splashed around you. It was a little chillier in the water than you would have liked, but Rooster was close and he was almost radiator hot. "It's f-f-freezing," you chattered.

"It's the ocean at midnight," he said in your ear. "What were you expecting?" he posed a good question. "But your feet don't hurt now, do they?"

"Actually, I can't feel them... because they're numb," you replied, your toes thumbing in the sand beneath you, it grounded you and felt so familiar. You loved it, craved it. The grains felt good and if you squinted, you could almost avoid the slight needling of your feet as they started to relax and unwind.

"You're the water," he murmured to you quietly, his voice lower than the ocean's bustle around you. "I know I'm the clouds. But you're the ocean. You need it. I've always known that about you. I see you some mornings down here, in the waves if I run late. I never see a crease or concern on your features, you're just one with the water. It's pretty sexy, actually."

You wished he'd stop talking because as he adjusted his hold on you, leaving one hand on your hip, the other arm wrapping around your shoulders, you only reaffirmed how good you fit against him. "I love that," you admitted, taking his hand and he sighed again. He was right, though cold, this was your happy place. This is where you desired to be, in the water and the freedom and terror that came with it, how it could make you teeter so easily and push you out of your comfort zone. And he knew all about it.

Above you, Rooster smiled to himself. He was starting to really enjoy holding you close, learning the curves of your body, how you could find the perfect place to find calm in his arms. "Hey?"

"Hmm?"

"I had a really good time tonight. It... didn't feel forced or contrived. Why haven't you and I done this before?"

Because we didn't see each other this way before Natasha threw us together, you wanted to say. We can laugh, we can play and have fun, team against anyone and not think anything of it... but tonight has categorically changed our friendship because I can't go back to just being your friend, Rooster. I think it would be easier to lose you than find out you didn't want to be with me this way again.

You stayed silent, you had just tortured yourself with your inner monologue as it was. "You are absolutely shaking," Rooster said, softly, maybe now regretting his idea and his fat fucking mouth just a little. "I think it's time to get you out of the water."

"I'm okay," you lied as he rubbed your arms where he could see the goose pimples rise. He couldn't stop the shuddering even in his stranglehold.

"Out you get, kid."

You nodded thankfully. The adrenaline coursing through your veins was not enough to keep you warm and only caused you to tremble more. "Sorry," you said as he released you from his clutches and moved before he could say anything else.

And just like that, the moment passed.

Rooster sighed, watching you make your way to the beach. He knew he'd scared you. You knew he was opening his heart to you, and just like Natasha joked about your commitment fear, maybe it wasn't too far off the mark and that made him sad for all that you had missed and what you could miss out on. He began to follow you as you sat back near all the gear you'd removed, closing in on yourself. Rooster ran the last little while up the beach and retrieved his jacket, putting it over your shoulders. "You okay, kid? You're blue."

"Can't stop shaking," you could only reply and he swore he heard your teeth chatter. "But I'm okay."

"Come on, let's get you home," he tossed all the gear except the flowers into his jacket and tucked it under his arm then offered you his hand to help you up. He used a little more force, driving you into him and he wrapped you into his arms - he was very good at bringing you close and he knew, not once had you fought it. "I didn't want to scare you before. I'm sorry I was so forward."

You gave a little shrug. "Don't worry about it, Rooster. I'm just a big girl with big problems," you said simply.

"Do you think you know... why you don't want to get close to me?" he asked, almost not wanting to know the answer.

You looked up at him and he knew the kicker was coming. "You have I have very different daddy issues," you told him. "When my dad left, I thought he'd come back. For years I thought I could try and make him want us again... but my sister and I weren't enough and if he could leave us, who he was supposed to love so fucking easily, it doesn't give you much confidence as an adult. He picked another family over us, I have other siblings I don't even know. The shit sticks."

Holy shit, Rooster thought, his knuckles rubbing against your back. He paused and held you tightly. He didn't know that... hell, he did but certainly not to that deep an extent and maybe your issues were a little more deeply rooted than Natasha had alluded to. He certainly couldn't blame you for that.

"You mean something to me, and ruining anything with you would destroy me," you continued. "I appreciate our friendship and that comfort that brings me."

He nodded. It felt like a kiss-off, that was for sure. "I wasn't asking for the rest of our lives," he said quietly.

"I know," you pulled back, needing to be completely out of his reach. "But I just don't know what to tell you right now."

"And that is the end of our first fake date," Rooster said, hating to admit he was kind of relieved as you got back to your apartment. He followed you to the front door and wanted you to feel as safe as you could in his presence because you hadn't said it... but everything had changed, and he knew it too. He didn't expect the night to go like this, but he knew, like you... things couldn't be the same again now.

You gave him a gentle smile and his heart fluttered, he'd always loved your smile, but shit... it was his now. He left your heels neatly at the stoop. "I hope today wasn't a total bust for you. Now you know how good I am at ruining good things," you poked fun at yourself. "It's a wicked character trait."

He sighed, dropping his eyes. "Why would you think that being honest with me would ruin anything?" he had to ask, putting his hands in his pockets. "Don't you think I appreciate that more?"

"I dunno," you leaned back against the door as he looked back at you, chewing your lip and God, he wanted to be the one chewing that lip. Vulnerability to most people could be seen as a red flag but to him? You were telling him things that you'd never told anyone, and that was almost sacred and it would always mean more. He knew you trusted him, but made him uneasy that it wasn't with your heart. "Do you?"

He rolled his eyes, a faint grin on his face. "Yes. I do appreciate that more. I've learned more about you tonight than I have in the last 30 years, which is kind of awesome... and terrifying."

"Terrifying?" you repeated, a little disappointed as he stepped closer.

"If you think for one second that you scaring me is a bad thing, you are kidding yourself," of this he was certain. He wasn't scared to be out of his comfort zone with you.

You finally smiled and shook your head gently. "I had a wonderful time tonight. Thank you, Rooster. I owe you, big time."

"Don't be crazy. I drank top-shelf booze, ate more cake than I have eaten for years, and I got to spend my night with you. We'll call it even."

"Well, thank you. It really meant a lot. And it won't happen again, there are no weddings or other OTT celebrations in the foreseeable future."

"That's a shame," he laughed quietly.

There was a slight beat before your rationality kicked in. "Well, I should go in," you told him, pushing back off the door and reaching for your keys in your clutch. "I'm sure you've got an early morning."

"Class," he acknowledged.

You nodded. There would always be something. "Goodnight, Rooster," you said as you unlocked the door and took a step in before pausing. Rationality be damned. "Unless you wanna come in?" you called softly in the dead quiet of the night. You could see his brain working a million miles a moment.

This wasn't something you and Rooster did, you didn't hang out together this way, it was always in a group, always someone else to play the distraction. "Yeah, I really do," he admitted,  standing before you. The air around you had changed and you swore it wasn't just you that noticed it. For the first time tonight, his nervousness was evident and he put his palm on your cool cheek. Licking his lips, he admitted, "I really wanna come in," he said quietly, resting his forehead against yours.

His eyes searched yours as you pushed the door open and your hand found his. He followed willingly, quietly kicking the front door closed as you led him down the small hallway to your living room. Low lit from the lamp you'd left on for your late arrival, Rooster was interested to check out your place. Quaint, but it was quintessentially you. Linen in neutral and blue, a stash of books on the coffee table. A home. "Do you want a drink?" you asked.

Erring on the side of caution, he responded 'water'. He was starting to cut it fine of being in a proper state for the following morning and while he could take his liquor, the last thing he wanted was a hangover in an F-18. You came back to him with a cool glass and he gave you a small smile of thanks. He tossed his suit jacket on the end of the couch, finally happy to be rid of the silly thing.

"Do you mind if I get changed? This dress is clogged with sand, it's wet and damp."

"Course not. Go make yourself comfy," he said with a small smile as he watched you walk away before he preoccupied himself with the endless photos on your wall. A tasteful aesthetic of beautiful white frames with a mix of colour and black and white photos stored in them, he felt the love and consideration you'd put into the curation of images. And holy shit, if it wasn't you on his Mom's hip. You were crying and she was trying to appease you in any way she could. He took the photo from the wall and you wandered back a few minutes later, hair down, oversized Lakers t-shirt and you saw what he stared at.

"Mom said I had just been told I couldn't get an ice cream from the ice cream truck," you filled him in. Rooster actually laughed.

"That's the cutest fucking thing I ever heard."

"And Carole was trying to tell me she could get me ice cream from your place even though my mom was saying no, but I didn't want it anyway because it didn't come from the ice cream man. Naturally."

"That's amazing. This is about the last photo I would have ever expected to have seen, you know?"

"You can have it if you want. I mean, I'm a screaming three-year-old, but your mom looks absolutely beautiful."

"Always," he said softly and put the photo back carefully on the wall. "You keep it, it gives me something to see when I am here."

You shrugged easily and took a seat on the couch. He took a hint and went to join you, taking a cool sip of water to regulate. This was just not how he saw the night going. Sure, he was a man, he had eyes in perfect working order. He wouldn't lie and say he hadn't memorised every curve of your body, your smile and that absolutely devastating self-deprecating wit but there were plenty of other distractions in his wake. But here you were, right before him. And you, at that moment, were perfect but he didn't know what you wanted from him and it ate him alive.

"What time is class tomorrow?"

"Eight," he replied.

You gently reached for his hand, avoiding his eyes and tracing over the callouses and his lifelines. "I'm sorry about before," you said finally. "I am really good at finding ways to make a night nosedive."

He shook his head, laying an arm against the length of the couch in hopes you'd shift just a little closer again. "No, fuck no. Please don't apologise."

"You know more about me tonight than most people know in a lifetime. I'm really not the sharing kind."

"That... I knew," he with a smile. "I kind of figured we were a bit alike that way anyway. But it gives me a little bit of hope. I'll weasel my way in," he said confidently. "You'll regret opening yourself up to me," he teased as you laughed heartily.

"Using my trauma against me," you fist-pumped and he was so relieved you could see the funny side to it as he scooted a little closer since you didn't. "Awesome."

"I promise I never would do that," he said sincerely. "I have enough baggage to take everyone in this damn town out."

"That's true," you agreed. "What a mess we are."

"You're not a mess. You have your reasons, just like I do," he let go of your hand and reached into his shirt, pulling out his dog tags. "These have been driving me mad all night. Think they're imprinted into my chest..."

"Can I see?" you asked as he shrugged and slipped it over his head, gently putting it over yours and letting the tags jangle across your heart. You picked it up and looked at the imprints of his name. "Bradley N. Bradshaw," you spoke. "What do you think your parents were thinking when they gave you more or less the same first and last names?"

He laughed loudly. "Bradley was my mom's dad's name," he explained. "And it was the 80's. I guess they thought it just sounded cool. They didn't think of what it might be like for me at 34."

You grinned, tracing the bumps of his ID. "I forgot what these felt like. Dad's, Grandpa's. Having them in my hands like they were a toy, and what they really stand for."

Rooster didn't speak. He understood what you meant without having to go into it.

"Roost?"

He hummed in reply.

"Have you thought about settling down?"

"I've thought about it," he shrugged simply. "I haven't really found anyone who I want to settle down with. Last thing I want is something that doesn't last. I want to feel like my parents did - I can hardly remember it... but the way Mom spoke about Dad after he died? That's something to strive for, you know? I know she was sick... but she really died of a broken heart in the end," he said quietly.

Holy shit... you thought.

"When I find the one, I'll know," he added, taking your hand back into his and this time, he avoided your gaze as he drew circles around the pads of your palm. "I'm sure of it." He was sure of it.

"And here I was thinking you loved being a bachelor and the notoriety of the Navy," you said, and he appreciated the teasing as he laughed, scratching his neck.

"I mean, yeah. There are some benefits to not settling," lifting his gaze back to you, he pondered again. "I'm not really that guy that falls quickly."

You nodded, you knew what that felt like and you knew he was growing weary of sharing hour, so you decided to make things more interesting. "I've asked Natasha this and was not remotely surprised with her response. But I'll ask you too because I know you wouldn't lie to me... What's the greater thrill: flying... or fucking, Rooster?"

Rooster chuckled quietly. "That is going directly for the jugular," you saw his lips move, but sounds didn't follow through. "I love flying," he looked up. "My fate is sealed, but the right person? Jesus, fucking the right person could make you wanna give it all up, you know?"

"No, I don't," you pressed, your brain trying to decipher his answer. "That's why I asked."

He smiled, a small tint of red creeping up to his cheeks. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"I think I like making you squirm," you said simply as dropped his eyes, coy all of a sudden.

"Oh, I get it now," he thought about it. "If it was life and death, I would, I can't believe I'm saying this... but I'd fly."

"Oh, my God," your jaw may have hit the floor. It just was not the response you were expecting but told you a lot about Rooster's priorities.

"As I said, if it was the right person..." he tried to over-correct himself as you bit back your grin, covering your mouth with your joined hands.

"I'm speechless," you continued to needle him.

"Okay, if this is the little game we want to play - " he announced, smacking the top of your hand.

Oh, fuck.

"My turn, then," he said straightening up and you panicked, and he grinned because he could see you were clearly panicking. "Why haven't you really settled? You could have found the guy that it could have all worked with. You're smart, fucking hilarious, beautiful. Now don't get me wrong... but for most guys, that's all they need. We're not overly complex creatures."

"Honestly?"

His hand that was in yours clamped down and was trapped in his strong grasp. "Honestly."

"I don't think I'm ever going to find what I'm looking for. I haven't found someone that can keep my attention for long enough."

He stayed silent, he wasn't convinced.

You grunted and continued. "I date. A lot. I am just not broadcasting how average these dudes are I'm dating. Why do I want to spend my time with someone with who I don't spark with?"

"Do you really have a problem with commitment?" he asked pointedly.

"No, I have a problem with assholes," you replied smartly. "You haven't settled down, do you have a problem with a commitment?" you threw back.

He rubbed his moustache and he considered his answer. "No, I'm content with not being ready to settle down yet."

"So, yeah. You kind of have a problem with commitment," you laughed as he nudged you.

"I realise I'm in my prime," he shrugged, giving his ego receiving a nice self-stroking. You didn't mind Rooster talking himself up, it was incredibly sexy, truth be told. He was generally pretty modest about all that kind of stuff and kept his business to himself but really, he wasn't completely unlike his friends and co-workers. He knew he good a good-looking dude, his voice could turn you inside out (you figured), he could command a presence fairly easily, and women were putty in his hands. It wasn't a lot of effort on his behalf.

Grinning widely, you snuck closer to him, sitting on your knees and he watched his hands fall to his thighs as you released yourself from his grasp. God, you loved making him writhe and he dared you to ask what you were thinking. "I'm not stupid, Rooster. I know you get a handful of numbers when we go out."

"How many of those girls do you think I call?" he asked, thoughtfully. He knew you were getting off on this, taking the focus off you and pinning it on him. He didn't mind, he knew you were enjoying this little game of cat and mouse, and you weren't really offended by any of his questions, so he couldn't be either.

"You tell me," you whispered.

He adjusted his posture and he took your chin in his palm, his thumb imprinting on your chin. God, you were right there, so close... desperate to be kissed. "I like the chase," his voice low. "But the chase isn't all that much a challenge much anymore," he admitted and his wrist started beeping. 4am. He needed to go. He silenced it. "Saved by the bell," he announced. "That's my alarm."

"And just when we were getting to the juicy bits," you sighed as he kept your gaze, a small smile on his face.

"We can continue this if you like. At a more respectable hour."

"No thank you," you said quickly and he chuckled quietly.

"I'm not surprised by that."

You smiled shyly. "Sorry."

"Fuck, you're so beautiful, do you know that?" he couldn't stop himself from saying. It just had to be said and put out there. Great, now it was done, he reasoned. You didn't break his gaze, you were daring him to make a move. He licked his lips and had to laugh. He'd already made the move. If you wanted him, he decided... the ball was in your court. Come and claim me, he wished.

"Roost?" you said again.

He raised an eyebrow in reply.

"Stay."

"No," he said, sitting forward. Fight for me.

You got to your feet and pushed him back against the couch, a small grunt bristling as you stepped between his wide legs. He reached for your hamstrings, his hands massaging against your bare skin as he raised his eyes to you. It was powerful and intimate and he didn't know if he trusted himself to be touching you like this.

"If you've got something to say... this would be the time to say it," his voice thick with desire, daring you.

"Stay," you repeated, your fingers coiling into his sun-kissed ringlets, giving them a gentle tug as he slowly licked his lips.

"Gonna need more than that," he told you, pulling you flush against him, helping you straddle him, his arms in a vice grip around you.

"Stay for me."

He bristled a laugh as you reached for a button on his shirt, dainty fingers making light work of the straining material over his chest. "Think I'm gonna just fuck you after all this?" he removed your hands, placing them back in your lap where he silently prayed you'd keep them because his strength was waning and if you tried really hard, you'd have him exactly where you wanted him. "You really wanna make this about a quick fuck and I just up and leave?" he shook his head. "I think you know by now I want a little more than that."

"What do you want, Rooster?" you asked, your fingers tracing his scars, finding one on his jaw you were particularly fond of and tracing it, feeling him tremor beneath you. "Tell me," you said reaching for the hem of your shirt and he knew he was going for martyrdom as he held your shirt down, whispering a curse. "You don't want me?" you asked, easing back just a little, shocked and a little more than embarrassed.

"More than anything. Can't you fuckin' see that?" he took your face in his palms and he could see your resolve crumble, breaking him as your eyes shone with tears. "That's why we gotta wait."

Your gaze dropped, you hadn't felt rejected like this in a long time. You didn't feel sexy, you didn't feel desired and you absolutely did not feel like he wanted you regardless of the apparent sincerity of his words.

"Listen to me," his voice raspy from alcohol and exhaustion. "Tonight, before tonight," he confided. "I've thought about taking you in every position my mind could imagine. But every one of them was crude and in my mind, pure fantasy. Why do you think I didn't even think about saying no to any of this tonight? All these years and all we have to show for us is a cheap fuck? I got a little more respect for you than that, baby girl. I wanna turn you inside out," he whispered against your skin. "Why do you think I never made a move before? If you give me the green light, I will absolutely pray to you."

You had forgotten how to breathe and he kept your eyes locked to his.

"I want to worship you," he told you, repeating your name like a mantra. "Don't you get it?"

The blood was pumping so loud in your ears that you were finding it hard to focus. You were drawn out of your stupor as his alarm started buzzing on his wrist again. He was getting later.

"I gotta go," he murmured, his face so close. "Just think about it, okay?" he said quietly, kissing your temple.

"That will be the problem," you confided as he hummed.

"I hope so," he helped detangle yourself from him, letting you stand although your legs were absolutely jelly. He smiled at you finally, thoroughly wretched, and all due to him. "So many things I want to do to you," he breathed. "But now, I gotta go." He'd been short on time before, but nothing as bad as this made him feel.

"I'm not asking you to stay again," you threatened pathetically, and he heard the lies as clearly as you did.

He nodded. But he couldn't and he knew he didn't have to explain his duty... because of anyone who knew him, you understood this most. "See me out?" he asked.

"Okay," you murmured, following him by the hand down the hallway. You unlocked the door, and he pushed it closed again, leaving his palm and weight against it. You raised a surprised eyebrow.

"I just can't - " he closed his eyes, dropping everything he was holding and grasping your face tenderly between his calloused palms. "Please think about this."

"And if I fuck it up?" you asked, scared as reality started to kick in.

"What if I do?" he challenged. "Do we not owe it to ourselves to find out?"

You nodded, almost pained, pressing your hands to his chest because you needed the last few touches before he left you. "Yes, we do," and with that, his lips were on yours. Soft, unobtrusive, it felt like you'd been kissing him your whole life. Familiar and right, you didn't realise how long you'd been waiting for this. He was such a good kisser, and there was no going back now. The words were out there... his kiss had tainted you.

His hands left your face, tangling into your hair, it felt incredible. He smiled against your lips and lightly pulled back. "You only needed to say yes," he told you, holding your face, his warm hazel eyes dancing and he kissed you again, a little rougher this time, his large hands tangling into your hair, tugging at strands as they moved to your back, dangerously close to your ass. "I'm holding back so bad right now, because the second I give in, I will stay."

"Can't you call in?" you asked hopefully, reaching for his lips again, your hands drifting to his hips and his head fell back with a quiet sigh. He pleaded for your hands anywhere further north.

"If I don't front up today... every single person we know will know exactly where I am... and why," he said, voice laced in mirth.

You told him softly, "I will make it worth your while."

He groaned loudly, his body already ready and willing, pressed unyielding against you. "I believe you," he breathed. "The idea of being with you will be all I'll be able to think about today. God damn," he hissed, his alarm going off again. "Can I see you later?"

"I think that's a good idea."

He gave a small smile, pushing some hair from your eyes. "Good morning, fake girlfriend," he kissed you gently again, let go of you to collect his gear at your feet and forced himself into opening the door, stepping over the threshold purposefully. He leaned back and kissed you once more. "I'll call you later," he breathed, trying to gather some resolve.

"Tonight?"

He nodded. "Tonight."

"Okay. Good morning, fake boyfriend." But now... there was nothing fake about it.

"Oh, before I forget," Rooster pointed at you. You raised an eyebrow, leaning against the doorframe, the adrenaline of the evening waning as he started to wander away. "What are you doing the last Saturday of next month?"

You outwardly shrugged. At this point you didn't know how today would even pan out as he wandered back to you, lips painfully close to yours, his arms slipping around your waist again and you didn't want him to let go. "I dunno. Why?"

"I got a wedding invite through the week," he smiled kindly and you bit back a laugh. "Thought maybe you'd like to go with me..."

"Think you can keep this fake dating thing going until then?" you asked, caressing his cheek.

"I'm pretty confident we may not be fake dating then..." he said quietly, kissing you just one more time.

"Ballsy of you to assume."

He nodded. "Yep," his eyebrow quirked.

"Do you have to wear your dress uniform?"

"Yes," he sighed, recalling your first conversation.

"Damn. This suit is really good," you playfully teased him, knowing his dress uniform would likely bring you to your knees. White or blue, you didn't care. It would be utter carnage.

"I don't even think a dry cleaner would bring this back to its original glory," he admitted with a chuckle.

"Shame."

"Jesus Christ, I want to stay. Please tell me to leave," his eyes fluttered closed.

You smiled as he took a wide step back. "You'd better go."

He nodded, thankful for your push. "I'll see you later," he said and forcibly turned away, his feet taking him away from you and when he was out of your view, you felt the weight of his dog tags on your chest.

"Oh, shit."

masterlist.

A/N: Want to learn more about these crazy kids? Here we go! 

The Relationship Experience - prologue

#notroosterbradshaw #rooster #rooster fanfic #rooster fluff #rooster top gun #top gun fanfiction #rooster x reader #rooster x you #rooster x oc #rooster x female reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x oc #bradley rooster bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #rooster bradshaw fic #the boyfriend experience

[tongue-like-a-razor]

Faking It | Part II

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x F!Reader

You guys, I can't believe how much the first part of this story blew up!! Whaaat? I truly was not expecting that! Ya'll are amazing, thank you so much! Hope you enjoy part 2. Caution: I adore a good slow burn.

Summary: Fake dating your friend, Bradley Bradshaw - what could possibly go wrong? Your sister is getting married and you need a date. You enlist Bradley's help and the rest is history.

CW: Shirtless Rooster? Twice? I think that's it.. oh and yes, I will be shamelessly exploiting the one bed trope. Also: swearing. But I probably had you at shirtless Rooster, amirite?

Start from the beginning: Part I

“Steven is,” Bradley pauses, trying to think of an appropriate word, “underwhelming.”

You snort as the two of you make your way out of the restaurant. You feel Bradley’s eyes on you, waiting for you to expand on the subject, but you have no interest in reminiscing about the shittiest relationship you’ve ever been in, so you just hop down the steps and pick up your pace as you take the little path toward the chalets on the water.

“Did you date for long?” he asks, taking bigger strides to catch up with you.

“Long enough,” you respond.

Bradley purses his lips. “I see we’re in a talking mood.”

“I just want to get this long weekend over with,” you grumble.

He nods, sticking his hands into his pockets.

You make it all the way to your chalet in silence. Bradley opens the door and gestures for you to go inside. You walk in and flick on the light and your heart drops into your stomach as you stare at the one bed in the middle of the room. Behind you, Bradley slowly closes the door. You look back to see him glancing between you and the bed.

Your eyes meet and you’re pretty sure you know exactly what he’s thinking: that he didn’t sign up for this shit. “We forgot to get our bags from the car,” you say, as if you’ve hardly noticed the elephant in the room.

“I’ll go grab them,” he says, also choosing to ignore the glaring complication in your, thus far, flawless scheme.

He leaves and you turn to glare at the bed as though it’s a cruel joke and you have no sense of humor. You wonder why the idea of sleeping in the same bed with Bradley is distressing you enough to make you this uncomfortable. You’ve shared beds with friends before.

You persistently overlook the memory of Bradley’s hand on your back and the subsequent butterflies assailing your stomach. Those butterflies could have easily been attributed to surprise and you don’t plan on hosting them again anytime soon. Certainly not in Bradley’s presence. You just barely got the guy to agree to entertain a fake relationship, there is no way he’d ever consider something real with you. Besides, you don’t like him like that.

Bradley returns with your bags. He drops them on the floor near the door and quickly says, “I’ll take the couch.”

You look over at the two-seater near the door skeptically. “You won’t fit on that,” you say.

“I’ll make it work,” he says, digging into his bag for a toothbrush.

You imagine Bradley scrunched up on the tiny sofa and wince. “I’ll take the couch,” you say.

Bradley straightens his back and gives you an unwavering look. “No deal,” he responds. He shrugs off his Hawaiian shirt and walks past you toward the bathroom.

You change into your pajama shorts and top while Bradley brushes his teeth and gets ready for bed. He walks out of the bathroom and pulls off his tank top, tossing it into his bag as he heads for the couch. You stare at his bare back for a split second before tearing your gaze away and biting into your bottom lip as the image of his back muscles engrains itself into your memory for all of time.

You let out a shallow breath, reaching into your bag for your face wash, and then you practically run into the bathroom, doing your best not to watch Bradley remove his pants before sitting down onto the couch.

You brush your teeth while wondering why you’re all of a sudden possibly attracted to Bradley Bradshaw. Sure, the guy is hot. But you’ve never seen him as anything more than a friend – a slightly annoying one, at that. On the other hand, you’ve also never seen him shirtless until two minutes ago, and that changes things. Sort of. You would never have asked Bradley to pretend to be your boyfriend had you had feelings for him.

You spit out the toothpaste, your mind swarming as you try to rationalize Bradley’s unforeseen sex appeal. It’s fine, really. So, you find him moderately good-looking. You’re only human. And this is all temporary, probably prompted by your dedication to the role of being Bradley Bradshaw’s girlfriend. Meanwhile, the image of Bradley’s rippling back muscles hijacks each and every one of your thoughts.

You walk out of the bathroom and quickly slip into the bed, paranoid that Bradley might sense something off about your behavior. The faster you fall asleep, the faster all of this will be over. You close your eyes.

“Hey, Y/N,” Bradley calls from the couch.

You turn your head to look over at him.

“Forget something?” he asks with his eyebrows raised.

“What?” you ask, your heart beating at the sound of his relaxed voice as he settles into the cushions of the couch. You’re not thinking about the thin blanket pulled over his chest or trying to imagine what’s underneath.

“The light?”

“Oh,” you say. “Right.”

“I’ll get it,” he says, lifting himself up. He stands, letting the blanket slip off to reveal his chiselled torso and black boxer briefs.

You hold your breath and avert your gaze as he walks over to the light switch, swallowing uneasily as your face heats up. “Thanks,” you say as he walks back to the couch in the darkness.

…

You wake up to find Bradley sleeping with one leg hanging right off the couch and the other bent in half and upright. The blanket has mostly slipped off to the floor save for a small corner that still covers his lower abdomen and hips. You cringe at the awkward position of his body, watching him sympathetically for a couple of moments. Then, you decide to grab the both of you some coffee and breakfast.

You change quickly and head out without waking him. Returning with two bagels and two coffees, you struggle to hold everything in one hand as you attempt to open the door. Before you can get a proper grip on the handle, you hear music coming from the other side of the chalet. You walk around the porch to see Bradley lounging in one of the chairs on the deck, looking out onto the water.

He turns to look at you and smiles. “Wondered where you went,” he says.

You return his smile. “Brought you a coffee,” you say, handing him a cup.

“Well, aren’t you just the perfect girlfriend?” he says, smirking. He nods at the other lounge chair. “Join me.”

You sit down after handing Bradley his bagel and start to unwrap yours.

“Hand me your coffee for a sec,” he says.

You narrow your eyes at him. “Why?” you ask, slowly extending your arm out so he can lift the cup out of your hand.

Bradley takes the cup, then reaches over and grabs the edge of your lounge chair, pulling it toward him. You let out a startled yelp and he chuckles. “You were too far,” he says.

You glance over his face, laughing uneasily, before returning your attention to the bagel in your hand. “How did you sleep?” you ask.

“Not bad.”

You scoff. “Yeah, right. You looked so uncomfortable this morning.”

He shrugs. “It was fine.”

You look out at the glassy water and sigh. “Just a couple more days,” you say. “Bachelorette tonight, wedding tomorrow. And then home after brunch the next day.”

Bradley nods. “Easy.”

You give him a skeptical look. “At least it’s beautiful here,” you muse, scanning the cliffside across the lake.

Bradley looks over at you, squinting his eyes because the sun is coming up right over your head. “It is,” he agrees.

You take a sip of your coffee to hide the flush in your face when his gaze lingers on you for a little longer than usual. “My sister said you’re invited to the Bachelor party. Are you going to go?”

He shrugs. “Why not?”

You smile at him gratefully. “Thank you for doing this,” you say.

He leans back in his lounge chair and closes his eyes. “My pleasure.”

You chuckle. “My offer still stands. Anything you want, Bradshaw,” you say. “Feel free to get creative.”

He peeks up at you with one eye, smirking. “Careful what you wish for.”

…

You spend the day swimming and sunbathing with Bradley, whose sculpted physique you try to ignore despite his numerous trips into and out of the water. It’s late afternoon and almost time for the two of you to head back to your chalet and get ready for the evening out. Bradley takes one last dip and, upon emerging from the lake a glistening spectacle of a man, starts brushing his hand through his hair to shake out the water. He makes his way toward you and you bring your hand up to your forehead and furrow your brow as though you’re thoroughly focused on the book in your lap when, in reality, you’ve been reading the same sentence for the past twenty minutes and you still don’t have a clue what the fuck it says.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see him bend down to grab his towel from the chair. He starts drying his face and hair, completely disregarding his dripping torso.

“You’re getting water on my book, Bradshaw,” you say, not looking up at him.

He stops wiping the back of his neck and looks over at you. Then, he nudges your knee with his leg and you flinch as his soaking swim shorts brush against your thigh.

“Bradley!” you scream, leaping out of your seat.

He laughs. “Aww, c’mon, Y/N,” he calls after you as you back away. He extends his arms out. “You look like you need a hug.”

“Bradley, I spent the last half an hour drying off! Stay away!” you yelp as he chases after you through the sand.

You stop short at the edge of the water, holding your arm out as he nears you slowly, a mischievous smirk on his face. You shake your head at him threateningly and, by chance, notice movement to your right. You glance over to the row of chalets near the beach and see your mother and aunt having tea on their balcony a few hundred yards away. Your cries must have attracted their attention because they are both looking in your direction.

Bradley follows your gaze and then looks back at you sheepishly. He shrugs and you know exactly what he’s thinking without him having to say a word. You have an audience now, so you have to hug him. He’s practically dry at this point and, were you actually his girlfriend, there would be no reason for you not to.

You step forward tentatively and his smile falters slightly as he watches you approach. The slight breeze coming off the water that covers your skin in goosebumps makes you suddenly painfully aware that you’re wearing the tiniest bikini known to man. You shiver slightly, biting your bottom lip when the two of you meet halfway and, for some reason, you’re distinctly conscious of all the spit in your mouth, gulping it down with much more effort than swallowing spit should require.

Bradley lifts his arm, putting his hand behind your shoulder to gently pull you closer. You bring your arms in – partly because you need a barrier between your bodies that’s thicker than the fabric of your bathing suit, partly because you’re cold as fuck – and you lean into his chest cautiously. Bradley wraps his other arm around your back and rests his chin on top of your head as you lay your cheek over his collarbone.

You endeavor to steady your breathing as your heart runs a marathon inside your ribcage, while Bradley’s soft skin warms your body.

“You’re not cold,” you mutter into his shoulder.

“Why would I be cold?” Bradley chuckles.

“You were wet,” you say.

“Are you cold?” he asks, starting to run his hand up and down your arm before you even respond.

You nod into his neck and he tightens his arms around your body. You sink into him slightly, relishing in his warmth, before finally pulling away.

Bradley gives you a tight smile and then turns to walk back to your beach chairs and collect your things. You let out a shaky sigh and then look up to your mother’s balcony. She’s still watching you, so you lift your hand to give her a small wave.

Your aunt enthusiastically waves back.

Read Part 3

Tag List:

@lonelywitchv2

@fanboyluvr

@marrianena

@anotherr-fine-mess

@mrs-obrien

@living-in-my-imagination88

@kindablackenedsuperhero

@whitewolfsbitch

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@roosterscockpit

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@shanimallina87

#bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw fluff #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x oc #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley bradshaw imagines #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster bradshaw #rooster #rooster x reader #rooster fanfic #top gun rooster #rooster top gun #rooster x you #bradley bradshaw x you #rooster imagine #bradley bradshaw drabble #rooster fluff #rooster x y/n #rooster x f!reader #rooster x female reader #top gun #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #rooster x oc #rooster drabble

[hangmansgbaby]

Songbird

B R A D L E Y B R A D S H A W X O C ! D E L I L A H M I T C H E L L

Bradley and Delilah have been best friends for as long as they can remember, especially since their dads work together and are best friends. After an accident at Top Gun, Carole and Bradley leave San Diego while Pete and Delilah stay behind. 8 years later, Delilah and Bradley are reunited as teens but what teen friendship doesn’t have its ups and downs?

Warnings: Goose still dies, smut, mentions of underage drinking, everyone is 18 when this happens, specific warnings at start of each chapter

Playlist | Taglist

Prologue

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

#gbaby songbird #top gun maverick #top gun #top gun x oc #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #miles teller #rooster #bradley bradshaw x oc #bradley bradshaw x female oc #rooster bradshaw #bradley 'rooster' bradshaw #nick goose bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster fanfic #rooster smut #rooster x oc #rooster top gun #OC Delilah Mitchell #Bradley Bradshaw x Pete Mitchell daughter

[callsigndragon]

Hold my hand | One

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x OFC / Jake Seresin x Red

Wordcount: 2.3k

Warnings: mentions of cancer, death, more death, someone's mom is a whore, the seresins had a shitty childhood... and then all fluffy and lovey dovey stuff!

Masterlist

If you want to get tagged, comment down below!

Eighteen. Jake was eighteen. Jenn was sixteen. It wasn’t the best idea. Heck, it wasn’t even an idea. It was just a choice. A choice made in a moment of need: Jake protecting Jenn while she ran upstairs to pack her things. 

Jake had been waiting for that moment since he was 10. Since the day their father died. Cancer was a bitch, and the Seresins had a taste of it. Tom, the human shield that kept the siblings safe from their mother, was gone. And for the next 8 years, Jake counted the days left until they could run away from that house. 

The day had come. 

“Where do you think you’re going, Jacob? You are not enough. You don’t know how to do anything!” Janine spat, tumbling around the living room and spilling the contents of her black mug—the one that was supposed to be used for coffee but that she filled with any alcoholic liquid she could find. “Nobody will love you. Nor you or your sister. That fucking whore. She’s a needy bitch, going around begging for some attention, and will end up pregnant like a cow before she turns twenty!”

Jake could hear Jenn running downstairs with tears in her eyes. How could her own mother talk about her like that? “If you hated the idea of becoming a mother so much, you shouldn’t have gotten pregnant in the first place!” 

“We are not the same, mother. Just because you don’t know how to do anything, it doesn’t mean I can’t learn.” Jake replied, taking a few steps back. She was the only person he was afraid of. 

“You don’t have money. You don’t know how to do anything! What are two little pieces of shit like you gonna do out of this house? You might as well give up. Kill yourselves and end my suffering.” The woman threw the mug over Jake’s head, missing Jenn by a hair. 

“I will wait until Jenn turns 17, and then we’ll join the Naval Academy. Like dad did.” Jake clenched his jaw, stopping the feelings flooding his mind at the thought of his late father. 

“You don’t have the guts!” 

“You’re just afraid of ending up alone. But we’re gonna walk out that door, and we won’t have to see your face again.” Jenn cried, choking up on her tears, feeling a mixture of anxiousness and impatience. 

And they did. They walked out. They never looked back. 

They took the reins. 

Jake parks his truck outside the Hard Deck, a bar that used to be the center of his world when he was a student at Top Gun. It’s been a while since those days. 

“Hey, isn’t that Javy’s car?” 

Jenn raises her head and looks at the black Chevrolet Impala parked next to them. “Holy shit, it is his car. Look, the little duck I bought him for Christmas.” 

Jake turns off the engine and gets off the truck, slamming the door behind him. “He came here and didn’t tell us?” 

Jake raises an eyebrow, pointing a finger at him. “Jay, you came here and didn’t tell him either.” 

“Because it’s a secret detachment” 

“And there you have your answer.” Jenn rolls her eyes, getting inside the bar and marveling at the ambience, the smell, and the homely, inviting atmosphere that reigns over the place. She never had called a place ‘home’, but she knows that this could be the closest thing to it. 

“Well, well, look at that! Javy Machado in the flesh.” 

“Valkyrie! Oh my goodness, we’re working together again?” Javy says, leaving his beer at the bartop and hugging the female. “Where’s the ugly Seresin?” 

“Right behind you.” Jake reveals, patting Coyote’s back and chuckling. “Please don’t flirt with my sister, it would be awkward.” 

“I’m not flirting!” Javy fusses, sitting down and gesturing to Penny, the owner, to bring two more beers. “This has to be a hell of a mission if we are here.” 

“Only the best of the best, Coyote.” Jenn raises her beer, the two men do the same, toasting for them and the future mission. 

“Do you think someone else might be joining us?” Jake asks, occupying the seat next to Javy’s. 

“We’re only three, and we don’t have a wizzo… We need another pilot with a back-seater.” Jenn adds, turning to the pool table and preparing the table so they can play. “Maybe Phoenix?” 

Jake thinks about it for a second. “Yeah… You can’t have a special secret mission only for the elite and not call her.” He looks at the flabbergasted expressions of the other two pilots and points at them with his index finger. “Don’t tell her I said that.” 

“She wouldn’t believe us even if we tried.” Javy jokes, grabs a pool cue, and gets ready to play. 

A few minutes pass, the three pilots absorbed by their game, until four more pilots join them, Phoenix at the head of the group. “What do we have here! If it ain’t Phoenix!” 

Jenn smiles when she sees Nat and looks with curiosity at the other three of them. She reads their names on the badges. Fitch, Garcia, and Jenkins. Jenkins kind of rings a bell, but she doesn’t remember why. 

“And here I thought we were special, guys. Turns out the invite went to anyone.” Jake teases, sitting in the pool, watching the newcomers' faces. He goes from Phoenix to the two men, but his eyes stop when they notice Jenkins’ eyes. They have to be the most beautiful eyes he has ever seen. Dark blue irises look at him, but he gets lost in the hazel ring around her pupils. Her eyes look like galaxies, and he fears that he might get lost in them if he stares too long. 

“Fellas,” Phoenix says, making Jake stop staring at the female pilot. “this here’s Bagman.” 

Jenn snorts, and Jake glares at him. “Hangman.” 

“Whatever.” Phoenix turns a bit, looking at the other three aviators. “You’re looking at the only other Naval Aviator on active duty with a confirmed air-to-air kill.” 

Jake smirks, faking modesty. “Stop. You’re gonna make me blush.” 

“Mind you, the other guy was in a museum piece from the Korean War.” Phoenix adds, looking at Hangman with her head tilted. How much she loves to tease him. 

“Cold war.” Jenn and Javy correct her at the same time. It might be an old plane, but it’s still a kill. 

“Same century,” Fitch says, crossing his arms over his chest. He is not impressed by the man’s achievements. 

“Not this one.” Garcia remarks, and Jenn looks at Javy, wondering what to do. “Red Queen has a confirmed air-to-air kill with a fifth gen aircraft. That’s impressive.”

“You know, I’ve heard a lot about this Red Queen, and yet, I have never seen her. I’m starting to believe she’s not even real, just a product of someone’s imagination to make my work look less impressive. I think someone’s jealous and goes around inventing rumors, guys.” Jake says, turning to grab his beer. 

“I’m Red Queen.” Jenkins announces, moving a step closer to him and smirking. “Want me to show you the report?” 

Jake clears his throat and gets up from his sitting position, as if he were really worried about looking like an idiot. More than he was already. “I am… I’m sorry. I really thought you were a myth. Everyone says you were the perfect student at the Naval Academy and, well, I am… I didn’t picture you like that.” 

“I know I’m short, but that has its benefits, Lieutenant Bagman.” She says, looking at the other two pilots. “My name is Rowan Jenkins. Red Queen. Everyone calls me Red.” 

Jenn, who had been looking at the exchange in front of her, blinks a few times and snaps out of her thoughts. “Oh shit. I’m Jenn Seresin. Valkyrie. This is Javy Machado. Call sign Coyote. And the… Bagman here is Jake Seresin.” 

“Wait, you’re siblings?” Rowan says, looking between the two Seresins, trying to spot some similarities. Yeah, she can see some of them. 

“Unfortunately.” Jenn mutters, earning a smack in the back of her head from Javy. “Who’re your friends, Phoenix?” 

“I’m Mickey Garcia. Fanboy.” 

“Reuben Fitch. Payback.” He says, smiling. “Revenge was already taken.” 

Jenn smiles, and smiles at Phoenix. “Glad to see you here.” 

“This mission can’t work without me, what can I say.” She gestures in the direction of the bar, and speaks again. “Who’s he?”

The friend trio frowns, not understanding her words. “Who’s who?” 

Phoenix motions in the direction of a guy, seated down, eating, and cleaning his lap. He doesn’t seem to realize that he’s the center of attention. Suddenly, he raises his head, and he’s a bit startled by the number of eyes staring at him. 

“When did you come in?” Jenn asks, moving so she can see the aviator. 

“Oh, I’ve been here the whole time.” 

There’s a moment of silence, Jenn and Jake share a look. Jenn knows that look. He’s about to make a joke that can be either the most unfunny thing ever, or really offensive. “The man’s a stealth pilot. Literally.” 

Well, it wasn’t that bad. 

“Weapons Systems Officer, actually.” The wizzo replies, looking at all the faces that are staring at him. 

“With no sense of humor.” Jake’s sister is about to smack him, but he gets up and walks toward the bar. 

“What do they call you?” Natasha asks, interested in knowing the wizzo better. 

“Bob.” 

“No, your call sign.” Payback chuckles, knowing that it’s something that happens regularly. Aviators are more often called by their call sign than by their name, so sometimes you don’t know where the call sign ends and your name starts. 

“...Bob.” He insists, and they all look at each other. 

“Wait, you’re Bob Floyd? From Lemoore? You’re my new back-seater.” Phoenix says, walking closer to her wizzo. Other than herself, the person on whom she will rely the most.

“Looks like it.” Bob answers, smiling a bit. 

Jenn turns to look at Javy. “Dude, have you seen Jake?” 

“Val, you have to be a bit more specific here. I see him a lot. He’s not as good looking as he thinks.” Javy remarks, earning a slap from Jenn. “Auch!” 

“Idiot. How he was looking at Red before he knew who she was? Did you see that?” Jenn reiterates, looking over to the bar to make sure that her brother doesn’t come back. “I’ve never seen him look at a girl like that.” 

Javy thinks about it for a minute, noticing how his best friend keeps looking over his shoulder to look at her. “He’s smitten.” 

Jake’s sister almost has a fangirl moment because, for the first time in years, Jake Seresin might be interested in someone for more than just sex. “I never thought I’d see this day.” 

“Can we emphasize the fact that he has fallen for the only girl that is better than him at his job?” Javy says biting his bottom lip to not laugh. 

“...Holy shit, you’re right!” 

Jake comes back from the bar, having changed the song on the jukebox. “Bradshaw! As I live and breathe.” Jake says, walking over to Jenn and Javy to give them some beers. He gives one to Red and the other to Phoenix. 

Javy’s eyes widen when he realizes that Bradshaw is, in fact, standing right next to Phoenix. “Oh my god.” 

“What the fuck is he doing here? He’s not fast enough for a special mission,” Jenn says, as if that were the only reason she doesn’t want him there. 

“You look good, Hangman.” Rooster says, watching Hangman’s every movement. It’s only then, when he stops right next to his sister, that he realizes that Jenn Seresin is also in the building. Brilliant. 

“I am good, Rooster. I’m very good. In fact, I am too good to be true.” Hangman says, making Phoenix and Rooster share a glance. 

Jenn looks at Rooster, the man who once was everything she ever wanted, and turns to keep talking with Javy. Family comes first, she reminds herself. Hangman might be a pain in the ass, but Rooster is not a saint, either. He talked as much shit as Hangman did back in the academy days. 

“What I wanna know is who’s team leader? And which of y’all have what it takes to follow me?” Jake states, looking at the others. 

“Of course, I’ll be team leader.” Valkyrie says, winking at Javy, who shakes his head. 

“Nah, Jenn. You’re wrong. It’s gonna be me.” Hangman insists, giving the pool cue to Javy. 

“Hangman, the only place you’ll ever lead anyone is an early grave.” Bradley raises his voice, wanting to be heard by all of the present aviators, even those who are having private conversations. Jenn glares at him, body already moving in his direction, but she’s stopped by Javy and Jake before she can say anything that she might regret later. 

Instead, the other Seresin walks to Rooster, slowly but with a smirk on his face. “And anyone who follows you is just gonna run outta fuel. But then that’s you all over, ain’t it Rooster? Snug on your perch, waitin’ for juuuuust the right moment. That never comes.” Jake smirks, tilting his head. “And I’m not talking about your performance as a pilot, only.” 

“Jake.” Valkyrie warns him, not wanting this to become too personal. 

Slow rider sounds in the back, and Jake laughs. “I love this song!” 

He leaves, and Phoenix and Rooster exchange a few words, but Jenn can’t hear him. She’s more focused on Bradshaw and that stupid Hawaiian shirt he’s wearing. One that she knows too well. 

She bought it for him when they were dating. 

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

Taglist:

@shrimping-for-all

@purplevortexx

@emorychase

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#bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw x female oc #bradley bradshaw x oc #rooster angst #rooster fanfic #top gun maverick #top gun #top gun maverick fanfic #top gun fanfiction #rooster top gun #rooster x oc #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x oc #hangman x oc #jake x red

[topgun-imagines]

No Worse Pain

Requested: yes

Summary: Bradley has been extremely stressed at work lately. You don’t want to add to that by telling him about the pain you’re in.

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: periods, cramps, pain.

Pairings: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x fem!reader

Stupid fucking period cramps. In your entire life, you couldn’t remember another time when you wished for the pain to dissipate this badly. You felt like sobbing. For the past three hours, you had been curled up on the couch, hands clutching your lower waist desperately. You hadn’t had period cramps this bad for years. While you weren’t exactly sure what caused the pain to be this intense, you were silently praying that it would disappear soon.

Another wave of pain rolled through you, causing you to curl up even further and hiss quietly. Normally, Bradley would be curled up right behind you. Only, this week, he was conveniently so busy at work that even as the clock struck 11:00 pm, he was still nowhere close to coming home. So, you were left to find a way to deal with the cramps yourself.

However, nothing was working. You had taken painkillers and had a hot water bottle pressed against your lower stomach. And yet you still couldn’t find any relief. There was a random show playing in the background, but you couldn’t focus enough to make sense of it. You were so out of it that you didn’t even hear the crunch of your finance’s tires as he pulled into the driveway. Nor did you hear the door open with a loud creak.

It felt as if there was a 100-pound weight on his shoulders as Bradley stepped through the door and into your shared home. He hated the fact that he was only coming home to you this late at night. Usually, he was home in time for the two of you to share dinner. Lately, however, he had been coming home later and later. Over the past few weeks, Bradley’s workload had increased tenfold. He had stacks upon stacks of paperwork, plus training, and he was up for a new promotion.

The added stress had put a small strain on your relationship. A few arguments had been caused by Bradley’s newly added stress. However, they had been small and had quickly blown over. Now, as he kicked his heavy boots off and dropped his backpack onto the floor, all he wanted was to be with you.

He walked around the corner, ready to be greeted with the sight of you with your hair tossed up in a messy bun, pyjamas on and binging some new show that he had never heard of. But what he saw had him freezing for a second. The show was playing, just like how he had imagined, but you were balled up on the couch, whimpering quietly and turned away from the TV.

“Honey?” The second you heard his voice you were trying to hide the fact that you were in pain. With everything that Bradley had going on at work, you didn’t want to add more to his load. He immediately rushed forward and crouched down beside you. “Is everything okay?” The soothing feeling of his hand gently caressing your side had you wanting to burst into tears. Your emotions really were a wreck right now.

After taking a moment to compose yourself, you rolled over with what you hoped was a reassuring smile. “All good, baby. How was your day?” You silently pleaded that changing the topic would work. He hesitated for a moment, searching your face for any sign of pain before he relented.

“It was alright. Stressful as usual,” Somehow, that only made you feel worse. Knowing that Bradley had such a terrible day, the thought of him having to come home, expecting to relax, and having to deal with your pain instead made you feel uneasy. He noticed you wince when you shifted, your hand grasping your lower stomach. “Are you sure everything’s okay?”

Regardless of the pain, you plastered a smile on your face. Bradley seemed to accept your single nod and dropped the subject. Wordlessly, you stood from the couch and made your way to the bedroom, Bradley hot on your heels.

Getting ready for bed was a hard task when you were trying to mask how much pain you were in. You could tell that Bradley was still suspicious, but you were grateful that he didn’t say anything. You disappeared into the bathroom, popping a few more painkillers into your mouth and finished your business.

Bradley was sitting on the bed when you returned. You could only smile at him, kissing his cheek as you climbed into bed. The soft cry that escaped you as you sat down had Bradley’s head snapping over to you. He cooed softly as he wrapped his arms around you and held you against his chest. You began crying softly, hating the fact that you were putting additional stress on your fiance. “Honey, it’s okay.” He attempted to soothe you quietly, but your tears only fell harder.

“Darlin’, please,” Your fiance pleaded quietly, asking, begging you to tell him what was hurting you. “Just let me in.” His forehead knocked against yours and you could feel the love and sincerity rolling off him in waves. He wanted you to open up to him. He wanted you to share that with him. So you nodded.

You took in a breath and began explaining yourself. “I got my period this morning. You were already at work,” You noted when you saw that Bradley was confused. “Everything was fine until this evening. Then I got really bad cramps and nothing I did worked. It really hurts.” You whimpered quietly. Sighing, your fiance hugged you tighter and ran his fingers through your hair gently.

Even though you had told him what was hurting you, he knew that there was something you were still holding back. Bradley simply held you, waiting for you to open up on your own. And when you spoke, Bradley was shocked at the words that came out of your mouth. “But even though it hurt that bad, the hardest part was not telling you.” Your head was resting on his chest and the room was so quiet that you could hear his heartbeat pick up at his words.

Given the promotion that he was up against, you really didn't want to draw his focus away from his work. You knew how much Bradley wanted this and you would never be able to forgive yourself if you were the reason that he didn’t get it.

It took your fiance a few seconds to form a response. “I’m sorry that you’re in pain, princess. Lay down, let me help you.” You obeyed, shuffling under the covers and letting Bradley maneuver you. He moved you until you were laying on your side with Bradley spooning you from behind. The feeling of his warm hands sitting on your lower stomach had you almost moaning in relief. Even though you had tried all night to dilute the pain, the second Bradley’s hand hit your skin, you felt a thousand times better.

There was a silent communication between the two of you as you both drifted off to sleep, wrapped in each other's arms. No matter how busy or stressed Bradley was, you could share anything with him. It didn’t matter how big or small the problem, he wanted to know.

a/n: Hope you all enjoy! Thank you for reading and requests are open :)

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[its-the-pilot]

Waves | Rooster x Reader

| Waves Masterlist | Masterlist |

My first Top Gun fic, please be nice and enjoy!

Summary: Fourteen years after leaving without saying goodbye, Bradley Bradshaw comes back into your life. (Mav's niece!reader)

Warnings: swearing, adult banter

Length: 2k words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Working on this as a series, let me know what you think and if you want to see more!

Message or comment to join the taglist!

Chapter One

“Bradshaw, as I live and breathe.”

Bradley immediately recognized the voice behind him without needing to turn around. He shook his head before downing the shot of bourbon in his hand and throwing his next dart, scoring 13. He’d never claimed to be good, but the unwelcome distraction didn’t help. “Hangman. You look… good,” he replied flatly, turning to face his fellow aviator.

Both men were wearing their service whites, customary for the mixer held for TOP GUN students the night before beginning training. “Well, I am good, Rooster. I'm very good. In fact, I am too good to be true,” Hangman gave his usual smirk as he picked up Rooster’s last dart from the table and threw it, hitting the bullseye without even looking. “Didn’t think they let old timers in.”

They had met a few years earlier in flight school, and they instantly had a rivalry of sorts. Bradley had been several years older than the rest of the pilots in the program, due to not being able to attend the Naval Academy like he wanted. It took him years longer than it should have to become an aviator, and there was a bit of a chip on his shoulder because of it. Hangman, cocksure as ever, had instantly picked up on that weakness and exploited it to the best of his ability, pointing it out every chance he got. Some things never changed.

“Didn’t think they let assholes in either, but here you are,” Rooster shot back, taking a long pull from the beer on the table beside him before moving to gather his darts off the board.

The younger man chuckled, the insult seeming to roll off him like water off a duck’s back. “C’mon now, Rooster, we’re old buddies! Some older than others,” He smirked, sneaking in another jab as he patted him on the back. “Don’t take it so personal.” Hangman did a quick once over of the bar, his grin still firmly affixed to his face as he noted the number of women in attendance for the evening. “Plenty of delectable dessert options tonight, why are you holed up over here all by your lonesome?”

“I’m here to fly, not fuck my way through Coronado.”

A boisterous laugh escaped the tall blonde’s mouth. “Someone doesn’t know how to take advantage of a situation when it presents itself. Your callsign really is fitting.” Straightening his uniform, Hangman’s eyes locked on to a pretty woman approaching the bar. “If you can’t get laid in Whites, you just don’t know what you’re doing. Watch and learn, Rooster.”

Bradley rolled his eyes and turned back to his dart game, draining his beer as Hangman walked away. As fun as it might be, he had no desire to watch him make a fool of himself in front of an entire bar with his cocky attitude.

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

You recited the drink order for your table a few times in your head as you walked up to the bar, raising your hand to get the bartender’s attention. Your coworkers Kendra and Hazel had wanted to come out tonight, knowing that the new crop of TOP GUN candidates would be here, dressed to the nines. You hadn’t been interested but they wore you down, telling you they would pay for your drinks if you just kept them company for a few hours. You secretly hoped it wouldn't take them long to find a couple guys to take home, so you could get on with your uneventful evening of laundry and prepping for work.

“3 beers, 3 vodka shots,” you ordered, passing a $5 tip across the bar. Sliding onto a barstool as you waited, you made a cursory glance around the bar and groaned to yourself, shaking your head. You couldn’t understand what the appeal was, most aviators had more balls than brains and were just looking for a quick lay.

It only took a minute of waiting for your drinks before you felt a warm, solid presence accompanied by a pair of hands resting on the bar top on either side of you, covered in white sleeves. “Not interested,” you said in a sing-songy voice, not even needing to look up to know it was a new TOP GUN aviator standing with his chest pressed gently against your back.

“Not even gonna give me a chance?” He asked, his southern drawl coming out as he leaned close to your ear.

You turned as much as you were able with his body so close and gave him a look, your eyebrow raised. He was handsome, tall and blonde, with striking green eyes, but his uniform was enough to turn you off. “Nope. I don’t date aviators.” Lord knew you had a lifetime’s worth of experience with them.

Your uncle Pete “Maverick” Mitchell had raised you from the time you were eight years old, after your parents died in a car accident. Growing up around Navy pilots gave you an aversion to them, and in your line of work, that was more helpful than you could imagine. You worked with aviators day in and day out in your job as an Aerospace Psychologist, and getting personally invested with the pilots would have consequences.

He chuckled, leaning back only slightly to allow your movement as his eyes traveled over your body. You wore a cabernet colored maxi dress with wedge sandals tied to your feet with white ribbons, like pointe shoes, and you had never felt more exposed than you did right then as he licked his lips, looking at you like prey. “You’re in the wrong place then, darlin’. We’re all aviators around here.”

“Well aware,” you sighed, turning back to the bar and waiting for your drinks. When the bartender approached and set your drinks down, you smiled warmly at her. “Thank you, Penny.”

The older woman grinned back, always happy to see you. She’d known you most of your life, though she was in and out of it at the will of your uncle, a typical flyboy incapable of settling down. You would never understand why she kept coming back to him after he broke her heart so many times. “Who’s your friend?” she asked, looking him over briefly. Penny knew how you felt about Navy guys, but she enjoyed teasing you.

“Not my--”

“Lieutenant Jake Seresin, ma’am. Callsign Hangman.” He offered his most charming smile as he cut you off and lifted his right hand from the bar to offer it to Penny.

You immediately took the opportunity to duck under his arm, grabbing the drinks on the bar in front of you. Penny laughed as Jake watched you slide away from him and head back to the table with your coworkers. “Better behave, she’s the owner,” you called back, your hands full of glasses.

“A pleasure, Lieutenant,” she took his hand and shook it before wiping down the bar where your drinks had just been. His eyes followed you across the bar, and she snapped the back of his hand with the towel. “You won’t wear her down. She’s got a million reasons not to go anywhere near Navy guys. There’s plenty of other fish in the sea.”

When you got back to your table, you snuck a glance back toward the bar, watching Penny give Jake what she was sure was a warning about you. He didn’t look phased though, and within minutes he had moved on to another girl a few seats away at the bar, repeating the same move he had done with you.

“Predictable,” you muttered, rolling your eyes as your coworkers chatted, rating the various aviators in the bar. You largely ignored them as you took a long drink from your beer, looking out the window at the sun setting over the ocean when you heard the tinkle of piano keys interrupting your thoughts. The old upright in the bar hadn’t been played in as long as you could remember, usually the only time you heard it at all was when someone got too drunk and fell into it.

From your seat you could only see the back of the man playing, but you could tell he was an aviator. Dressed in his service whites, his broad shoulders were pulled back with perfect posture as he tapped away at the keys, getting the feel for the instrument before he started playing an all too familiar song.

“You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain, Too much love drives a man insane…”

The sound of his voice made your stomach flip as if you were in a F/A-18. “No fucking way…” you breathed, not taking your eyes off of the back of the man’s head as he played.

“What?” Kendra asked, stopping her conversation with Hazel to turn in the direction of the piano player, then back to you, confused as to your reaction.

You didn’t answer as you stood, your steps cautious as you made your way across the bar in his direction. It couldn’t be. It had been nearly fifteen years since you last heard from him, the night he left for the last time.

Without saying goodbye.

“Jesus, Bradshaw! Not this song again! Is it the only one you know?” Hangman complained, not far from the piano and chatting up what was probably his fourth girl of the evening. Hearing his name was all the confirmation you needed.

Bradley wasn’t deterred by Hangman’s whining, instead he just continued singing, the bar joining in. He had always been good at being the center of attention when he wanted to be.

“You broke my will, but what a thrill, Goodness gracious, great balls of fire!”

Moving closer, you slipped into his line of sight without a word, a combination of emotions you didn’t understand bubbling up inside of you. He looked just like his father from the pictures you had seen, but at the same time he was still the teenager you had known so long ago.

“I laughed at love ‘cause I thought it was funny, You came along and…”

Looking up, his voice trailed off and his fingers faltered on the keys, making a sour note as he made eye contact with you. There was a long, awkward moment of silence as the entire bar watched on, curious as to what was happening.

He couldn't believe you were standing in front of him. The last place he had expected to find you was anywhere near anything having to do with the Navy, even if it was just a bar. And now here you were, staring at him as if you were seeing a ghost. Though he supposed he didn't look too much different. “You look good, Dimples.”

Your breath hitched in your throat at the nickname, and before you knew what you were doing, your hand reached out and slapped him across the face as hard as you could. The same hand flew to cover your mouth as you gasped at the realization of what you did. He didn’t immediately turn his head back to face you, and it made you feel even more nauseous.

It was so quiet a pin could drop. Embarrassment flooded over you and your eyes moved around the bar frantically before landing back on Bradley. When you realized his eyes were still on you, a sob only muffled by your hand escaped before you turned and ran out the back doors to the beach, barely stopping to get your purse and tell your friends you were going home on your way out.

There was no way this wouldn't be the talk of North Island tomorrow.

It remained silent until the door to the deck slammed shut behind you, then people started whispering amongst themselves, stealing glances at Bradley. Hangman had a smug grin on his lips as he stepped up behind his fellow aviator, clapping a hand on his shoulder as he leaned down to speak quietly.

“Damn, Rooster. I thought I was the only one who could earn that level of ire from women. Kinda hot, right?”

He shoved Jake’s hand away and stood, grabbing his cover off the top of the piano before heading toward the door you had exited from. “Fuck off, Bagman,” he snapped, hoping you hadn’t gotten too far.

Chapter Two

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x oc #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw angst #bradley bradshaw fluff #bradley bradshaw fic #top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #top gun fic

[beyondthesefourwalls]

Remember You Even When I Don't (3)

Summary: A training accident, the doctor had told him. A nasty one that led him here, laying in a hospital bed with a splitting headache and an inability to remember the woman sitting beside him. What he did know, though, was that you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and you felt important to him. That, as it turns out, would become an understatement.

Words: 4.7K

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw/Reader (no use of y/n, so can be read as unnamed oc)

Warnings: angst, hospitals, memory loss, language.

Notes: The response for this continues to blow me away. Thank you all so much! Hearing your thoughts about these two makes me so happy and is so encouraging to write a little bit faster. Please continue to comment and reblog, and my inbox is always open!

This was inspired by a one shot by the lovely @roosterforme and would not exist without her assistance. If you haven't read any of her stuff, please check out her masterlist - you won't be disappointed!

Part Two

_________

He dreamt of sparkling lights and cobblestone streets. When he roused consciousness, he thought he could smell pumpkin candles and freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. 

He woke slowly, chasing after the smell and the visuals as they evaporated from his view. He blinked several times, adjusting to the fluorescent light and white walls of his hospital room. 

“Well well well, look who decided to wake up.” 

It took a moment for the words to register in his mind. He looked to his left, where he had grown accustomed to seeing you sitting, only you weren’t there this time. Instead, he saw someone he recognized very well, smirking at him like only she could. 

“Sorry for keeping you waiting,” he grunted out as he adjusted himself on the bed and raised it up so he wasn’t lying down as far, making it easier to look at her. 

“You look like shit,” she continued. 

Bradley snorted. “Thanks, Phoenix. Appreciate that.” 

The smirk on her face fell into a soft smile. She reached out and laid her hand on his, squeezing gently. “It’s good to see you, Rooster.” 

“Yeah, it’s good to see you too,” he nodded, and he meant it. “How…long has it been?” 

Like she usually did, Nat knew exactly what he meant, and he was grateful he didn’t have to explain. “For me? Five days. I hear it may be a little longer for you, though. Based on the date you told the doctor, it’s been six months since I was sent to Korea without you.” 

“Five days? So…” 

“I was in the air with you when you went down,” she confirmed. “We’ve been stationed here together for almost three years.” 

“Lucky you,” he murmured as he rolled this new information over in his head. Learning that he was stationed in San Diego, Fightertown of all places, as part of a permanent detachment at Top Gun was a lot for him. The last place he remembered was D.C. But learning he had been with Phoenix here the whole time, for three years, brought another question to his mind. He took a glance around the room, even though he knew they were alone. 

“We finally talked her into going home and taking a shower about an hour and a half ago. One of the guys might con her into taking a nap, too.” 

The coffee cup from the day prior flashed in his mind again. “We?” 

“Mhm,” She hummed, meeting his eyes again. “It’s not just you and me anymore, Bradshaw. We found ourselves a whole, big ass family here. Imagine that, huh?” 

He could always count on Nat to never beat around the bush with him. He never knew how much he appreciated it until now, when he had never felt so out of the loop before. 

“Anyone I know?” 

She barked out a laugh, her eyes shining with something that looked like mischief. “Oh, Rooster. I don’t know that you’d even believe me if I told you.” 

“That bad, huh?” 

She was still laughing when she leant forward, speaking like she was sharing a secret with him. Bradley supposed that in a way, she was. 

“What would you say if I told you Bagman has been here to visit you everyday?” 

Bradley’s face scrunched up in disbelief, “Good joke.” 

“I told you that you wouldn’t believe me,” she said, her voice very much taking on the I told you so tone that she was so good at. She picked her phone up from her lap, scrolling for a few seconds before handing it over to him. There was a picture displayed on the screen of a group of people all donning their traditional green flight suits with an F/A-18 in the background. And there, right in the middle with his signature smug grin, was Jake fucking Seresin, arm wrapped around Bradley’s own shoulders like it was completely normal to do so. 

“Well I’ll be damned.” 

“Tell me. What’s more shocking? Hangman being your best friend, or finding out you have a wife?” 

She was teasing him, Bradley knew, trying to ease some of the obvious tension in the room. He looked at the picture again, trying to place names with faces. He recognized Payback and Coyote, and Harvard and Yale, but the rest were unfamiliar to him. He studied it for another moment, but no memories came with it. There was a flash of disappointment when he handed her phone back to her. 

“Pretty even, I guess.” 

Despite his words, they both knew it wasn’t really even. He had known Hangman for a decade and the rivalry had never really been more than that. But you, on the other hand…you were something Bradley never anticipated or thought he’d have. He’s still in shock at your existence, still something more than perplexed at how you made him feel even if he knew little more than your name. 

“This is….a lot, Nat. I have a wife. A wife and a whole life I don’t remember.” It was the first time he had said it out loud. His voice cracked, and his eyes stung, but he knew she would never use it against him. “This is crazy.” 

Her face was sympathetic now and she reached back out to hold his hand again. “You’ll get through it, Bradley. I know you will. We’ll all help you. Especially her.” She said it with such certainty that he almost believed her. 

“Can you tell me about her?” he asked her tentatively, and Nat shrugged in response. 

“It’s not my place to tell you your entire love story with her,” she said. Bradley couldn’t hide his disappointment. 

“What I will tell you though,” she continued, and he perked up just the slightest bit, “is that you two are ridiculously happy. And you love one another more than I’ve seen two people be capable of loving one another, and my parents have been married for like 40 years. You, her, and Florence are the perfect little family and we all make fun of you for it on a regular basis but it’s just because we’re jealous.” 

Her words made him feel better, but then he replayed them in his head and felt panic course through his body. The heart monitor beeped a little faster. “Florence? Who is Florence? Nat, do I have a kid?” 

By the way she bursted out laughing, he assumed that no, he did not, or her sense of humor has seriously changed in the last four years that she would find his panic at the thought funny if it were true. 

“No,” she snorted, “not as far as I’m aware. Florence is your cat. You call her Florry, most of the time.” 

His sigh of relief was so deep that it hurt his still very broken ribs, but it was worth it. Waking up to a wife he didn’t remember was one thing. He didn’t know if he could handle forgetting a child on top of that. Hell, he could barely handle all of this as it was. 

“I don’t remember her,” he started, and despite him stating the obvious, Nat was quiet as he worked out his thoughts. “But I feel like I know her. That’s…that’s crazy, right?” 

“I don’t think so,” she shrugged, “You do know her. Better than anyone. Your mind may not remember her, but that doesn’t mean that you don’t.” 

Bradley considered her words for a moment, feeling like he got punched right in his broken ribs. 

“Yeah,” he croaked, “I feel like I do.” 

Phoenix smiled at him sadly, giving him a moment to breathe before she started talking again. She spoke about the last four years of his career. He was stationed in D.C. when he was sent on a six week deployment to Belgium, only to be pulled out of that halfway through for a special mission out of Top Gun. It led to all of those that were called back to form a new unit with this as their homebase. 

“The Dagger Squad?” he questioned with a snort. Natascha hit him gently in his arm, but he winced anyway just to mess with her as they’ve always done. “Ow.” 

“Jokes on you, asshole. You were the first one to say it and it stuck.” 

He groaned. “Of course I was.” 

She talks him through how he was promoted in 2020, nearly a year after being stationed here. Lieutenant Commander Bradley Bradshaw, she had teased. She had since been promoted as well, but he got it before the rest of them. He felt a certain level of satisfaction in that. They had done additional missions together, deploying for mostly short stints when necessary, and had taught a few Top Gun classes of their own. 

Their crew was close, like family. Some of them had been in the air with him when he went down days prior, while the others remained in the tower. They all searched for him and made sure he was found, unwilling and unable to leave him behind.

They had been here everyday since his accident, rotating out in shifts so that you were never alone, staying until the nurses kicked them out at the end of the night. Bob, one of the ones in the photo that Bradley didn’t recognize, had been down in the cafeteria getting you both food when he had woken up the previous morning. It warmed him, knowing you had people here for you when he had been unconscious. That there was someone making sure you ate and drank water and slept. It was important to him that you weren’t alone. 

Coyote and Hangman had been the ones to drive you home this evening. You had agreed only if Phoenix stayed in case he woke up, so that he wasn’t alone. 

“She thought you would appreciate seeing a face you recognized,” she explained, and the thought that you were that considerate nearly took his breath away. He did appreciate it, more than he thought. The two of them talked for a long time, but Bradley felt himself missing you. There was an ache in his chest that was getting harder to ignore. He found himself looking toward the door and at the clock near the window. The sun had gone down hours ago. When the nurse came in a little while ago to check on him, she had warned Nat that visiting hours were almost over. 

“Everything alright?” Nat asked him, noticing how his gaze was wandering and he was taking longer pauses between responding to her. “Pain okay?” 

There was an ever present ache in his head and his ribs hurt, but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle. It wasn’t what he was focused on right now. 

You were upset when you had left the room earlier. He still wanted to know who you were talking to and what the doctor had said to you and to just know you. He was starting to get anxious that you weren’t coming back. 

He didn’t like the thought. Your presence soothed something. Anytime you were in the room with him, he felt a little less outside of his own skin. You had said the day before that there was nowhere else you would be than beside him, so he had to believe you wouldn’t leave him alone tonight. 

“Fine,” he muttered, deciding to keep the thoughts to himself, too embarrassed to ask after where you were and when you were coming back. He suspected that Nat saw right through him, but gracefully, she moved on. Even when another thirty minutes had passed and the nurse came in again, informing the two of them that visiting hours were over and she was hugging him goodbye as gently as she could, he didn’t say anything. 

When the door closed behind her, he realized it was the first time he had been alone since he woke up in this bed the morning before. Being on his own had never bothered him before. He had always preferred solitude over anything else, yet this felt strangely empty. Lonely, even. Your face was there at the forefront of his mind. He found himself wondering what you were doing right now. If you had ended up taking that nap at home and if you were okay. His heart ached remembering the broken look in your eyes yesterday when he didn’t know who you were and how distraught you looked with the doctors and nurses earlier. 

He wished he would have had the thought to ask Phoenix for your phone number. He had no idea where his own cell phone was, but the old corded phone in the hospital room could certainly dial out if he needed to reach you. 

He wondered if this same sense of longing had happened so quickly the first time around, too. 

He wasn’t sure how much time passed as he thought about you, but his ears picked up on hurried footsteps making their way to his door. They barely paused before it was thrown open, but grabbed before it could hit off the wall. 

The tightness in his chest eased when he saw you. You paused in the doorway when you saw he was awake and looking at you. 

You looked more frazzled than he had ever seen you, not that that was a lot, but it still unsettled him. 

“Are you-” 

“I’m so sorry,” you blurted, making your way into the room after you gently closed the door, almost as to make up for your brash opening of it. The notion almost made him smile. “I went home to take a shower so you could talk to Nat and I ended up falling asleep. I didn’t mean to be gone for this long.” 

“It’s alright,” he assured you, but the frazzled look didn’t go away. Seeing it made him forget all about how distraught he almost was that you weren’t here. “Try and convince me differently all you want, but I bet an actual bed was a lot better than this chair. I’m glad you got some sleep.” 

You gave him a small smile and it made him feel something akin to pride to be the cause of it. 

The smile slipped after a moment. You twisted your ring on your finger, your eyes cautious. You looked small, and he didn’t like that. You cleared your throat before speaking. 

“Your doctor, he uh, he told me I should give you some space. That I might be overwhelming for you? But I didn’t want you to be alone. That’s why I had Nat come, but non-family members can’t stay overnight so…”

A flash of anger hit them then. He had known when you walked back into his hospital room when the doctor had requested your presence outside that he had said something to you. He should have known after he had made the comment about you leaving the room during his consultation that it was something to do with that. 

“He didn’t have a right to say that to you.”

“Bradley-“

“Just because I don’t remember you doesn’t mean you don’t exist,” he said, his voice firm, and he heard the breath you sucked in. 

His tone softened with his next words, “And even if I don’t understand it, I want you here. I mean…as long as you still want to be?”

It didn’t occur to him, before, that maybe this was too much for you. He was your husband who had been in the hospital for a week who woke up not remembering who you were. Maybe you needed some space. But you were nodding your head before he could overthink it too much. 

“I do. I told you, I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. But I want to do what’s going to be best for you more, okay? I know you don’t know me enough to trust me right now, but I need you to promise me that if it ever is too overwhelming for me to be here, you tell me, okay?” 

That was the thing. He did trust you. It was a feeling deeply rooted in his bones that he could trust you with anything. 

“I promise,” he said instead of telling you what he was really feeling. The emotions were too raw, too jumbled, and he hadn’t made sense of them yet. 

“Alright,” you nodded. You finally made your way from where you had been standing at the end of his hospital bed over to the chair beside it. A pressure lifted off of him when you sat down. 

Yes, he thought, that’s better. 

“How was your visit with Phoenix?” you asked, kicking your tennis shoes off and curling your legs up underneath you. You were in another pair of black leggings and another oversized pullover, UPENN displayed across the front of the dark gray material. Your hair was down again, and he decided he liked how the color looked against your skin as you pushed it out of your eyes. You raised your eyebrows at him and he realized he must have been staring. 

He cleared his throat, fighting off reddening cheeks. Damn. 

“It was good,” he admitted. “She caught me up a lot; told me about being stationed out here and the squad we’re on. She kinda laid out the last four years of my career for me.” 

“Congrats on your promotion,” you joked, and Bradley found himself letting out a surprised chuckle at your humor. 

“Did she say anything specific? About the mission you were called for that got you stationed here?” you asked. Bradley shook his head. 

“She didn’t go into many details. Why?” You let out a long, low breath, and Bradley felt his stomach knot. “Is there something else I should know about it?” 

“Yes,” you nodded, “and it may not be easy for you to hear, but..well, it’s important. Kind of a big part of the last three years of your life.” 

That could mean a lot of things. He tried to stamp down all the worst case scenarios that played around in his head and watched you fiddle with the phone in your hand. You paused, took a breath, and then handed it over to him. Your fingers brushed against his when you did and the spark it sent through him made him take a second to realize what it is he was looking at. His breath caught in his throat when he did. 

Staring back at him was the two of you. You were both smiling, clearly happy, with you tucked into his side like you belonged there. On his other side, he had his arm thrown around the neck of someone he hadn’t seen in years. At least that he could remember. He couldn’t pinpoint what he was feeling. A decades worth of anger and bitterness, he supposed, but the underlying hurt and regret that he always tried to not acknowledge were there too. If he focused hard enough, there was even the smallest flicker of hope. 

“I don’t understand,” he muttered, still staring at the picture. 

“You asked me earlier who Pete was, when you saw the name on my coffee cup,” you reminded him, “not many people call him that, but I do.”

You went on to tell him an abridged version of what sounded like a mission report. Mav was their mission leader and he was his wingman. He got shot down trying to save him, and Bradley disobeyed direct orders to go find him, where he was then shot down trying to save him. It ended fine. They clearly made it out, with some assistance, and had taken a lot of time to work through things. They had completely rebuilt their relationship in the last three years and by the looks of them in this picture, it was hard not to believe you when you said they were stronger than ever. 

“I know how badly he hurt you, and that hearing this might bring up those feelings,” you whispered, your voice sympathetic but not pitying, which was something he appreciated more than he could say, “but the two of you love each other so much. When the time came, you were ready to forgive him. It may be hard to believe, but I wouldn’t lie to you about this. I promise. He’s family. To both of us.”

“He’s been here?” Bradley brought himself to ask, and though he already knew the answer based on the sharpied evidence on a plastic coffee cup, the nod you gave him in response winded him. 

“Everyday,” you confirmed. 

Bradley nods slowly, processing your words. 

“I don’t…know that I’m ready to see him,” he finally said. 

“That’s okay,” you assured him immediately, “you don’t have to right now. But I didn’t want to keep it from you, okay? I don’t want to keep anything from you.” 

He looked away from the phone he had been staring at to meet your eyes, and he knew that you were being sincere. Your eyes were earnest, your expression open, and he was blown away that anyone so beautiful would look at him like that. He let out a breath that was shakier than he would want to admit before he handed your phone back to you. 

“Are you tired?” you asked him, and he shrugged his shoulders. He was, truthfully, but this was the longest conversation the two of you have had; he wasn’t ready for it to end. 

“Tell me something else,” he said instead. 

“What would you like to know?” you asked, clicking your phone off and setting it on the table near his bed. 

“You,” he said instantly, not needing any time to think and not second guessing his honesty, “I want to know you. Us.” 

Your smile was shy, and your cheeks bloomed again, drawing your bottom lip between your teeth as you nodded. His heart raced in his chest again. “Alright.” 

______

Listening to your voice had quickly become one of his favorite things. The two of you talked for a long time that night, and he grasped onto every detail you gave him. 

You were a few years younger than him. You worked in journalism, covering politics and policy, for the most part completely remote from your home here in San Diego. You grew up in Philadelphia (the Eagles sweatshirt was yours) and were the only child of only children. You weren’t overly close with your parents, but you didn’t seem bothered by it, either. You loved spicy food and sour beers, and things always got a little interesting when you indulged in too much white wine. You had adopted Florence, the adorable brown tabby that you proudly showed him pictures of, when you moved to DC all on your own, and Bradley was apparently the only man the cat tolerated. 

The two of you hosted board game nights or dinner parties on a regular basis, and it had surprisingly only ended in a physical fight between him and Hangman once in the last three years. 

The night nurse came in for her rounds and was surprised to see him still awake, but he refused additional pain medication when she offered it because he wasn’t ready for how they would inevitably put him to sleep. 

He wanted to know everything about you. 

“Tell me how we met?” He requested. 

Your smile was soft, like you liked how the memory made you feel. 

“We were both subjected to the ‘single guest with no date’ table at a wedding,” you revealed. Bradley wracked his brain and remembered a save the date he had sloppily stuck to his fridge in his DC apartment. He asked if that was the one you were referencing and your smile grew as you confirmed it. 

“We met in Philadelphia?” 

“We did,” you laughed, “which is incredibly ironic, considering we were both living in DC at the time.”

It sounded more like fate, but Bradley kept those thoughts to himself for now. 

“Did I ask you to dance?” he asked, almost certain of the answer considering where they ended up years later, but to his surprise, you shook your head. His eyes widened. “You’re kidding.” 

“I’m not,” you swore with a chuckle.

“I was at the same table with you and I didn’t even ask you to dance?”

You threw your head back with a full laugh, and Bradley was sure if they pulled the data from the monitor he was still hooked up to, it would show that his heart skipped a beat at the sight. 

“The rest of the people at the table were admittedly not that nice, and when we realized that we weren’t that bad, we ended up escaping and sitting outside at one of the cocktail hour tables for the majority of the night.”

He wished he could remember what you looked like that night. He wondered what color dress you wore, and if you had your hair up or down, when he was apparently not dancing with you.

“That seems like a crime,” you flushed at the words he mumbled mostly to himself. 

It was difficult for him to comprehend that he had someone in his life like you, but it wasn’t hard at all to see how he fell in love with you as quickly as he must have. You were beautiful outwardly, but he was seeing you were even more so inwardly, as well. You were funny and witty and kept him on his toes, and he was sure he hadn’t even scratched the surface of you yet. 

The more he learned, the more infatuated he became. 

It was nearing two in the morning when your yawning became more frequent amongst your conversation. Watching your face scrunch up every time it happened was adorable, and he wondered if you were as unwilling to go to sleep as he was. The bubble of storytelling you had found yourself in was warm and comforting, but he finally took pity when you started rubbing your eyes under your glasses. The urge to somehow take care of you was brewing inside of him. He wanted to be selfish, but he had kept you up long enough. 

“We should get some sleep,” he murmured. Your hair fell in your eyes when you nodded and he found himself wanting to tuck it behind your ear for you. 

“Are you in any pain?” you asked. You were worrying for him, despite how tired you obviously were. He had been shown more concern in the last 48 hours than he could remember getting in the last decade; his heart ached at the thought. 

“It’s not so bad right now.”

“I can get the nurse.” You were already rising to do so, and before he could stop himself, he reached out to grab your arm. You froze from your position half raised out of the chair. Your wide eyes flickered down to his hand before meeting his again. 

Bradley swallowed deeply, but didn’t let go. He couldn’t stop his thumb from gently rubbing your skin through the thick material of your sweatshirt. 

“I’m okay,” he whispered, “promise.”

The breath you let out was shaky, but you nodded. Without disconnecting from him, you pulled your chair just the slightest bit closer to his bed with your other hand, but you didn’t move to sit down yet. Instead, you took a step closer and leaned down to press a gentle kiss against his forehead. Your scent invaded his senses and he suddenly felt dizzy again for a completely different reason. You lingered for a moment and he reveled in it.

“Thank you,” he didn’t quite know what he was thanking you for, but he needed to say it. His voice was thick all of a sudden, feeling overwhelmed with the influx of emotions he was feeling. 

You just smiled at him, and he released the hold he had on your arm so you could settle back into the chair that had become your temporary residence for the last week. 

“Goodnight, Bradley.”

-------

Notes: Things are starting to pick up with these two! The next part is when we really get into the fun stuff, I think :)

Tagging those who asked or interacted. I think I caught everyone, but I'm very new to this so apologies if I missed you! Please let me know if you'd like to be added or taken off this list :)

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