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#bradley rooster bradshaw fluff
7seas-of-ryy · 2 years
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Yes Ma’am
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Author’s Note: I feel like Rooster would definitely say yes ma’am all the time in a sweet way! Also italics are flashbacks
Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Reader
Summary: Rooster makes you flustered and he knows it ;)
Warnings: None!! A lot of fluff and implied smut
...
You don’t know why it makes you so hot and bothered, but it does. And of course he noticed. The one and only Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw. Damn him. It had happened randomly one day, and your reaction was engraved in his brain.
You were cleaning up at the bar and couldn’t reach some cleaning supplies. The whole group stayed behind and helped you clean up despite you telling them it was fine.
“Hey Bradshaw, can you come help me reach this?” You asked, struggling to reach.
“Yes ma’am” He replied simply and grabbed the supplies down.
You immediately went red. Something about those two words made you suddenly forget how to breath. Especially those two words directed at you, coming from that man.
Rooster noticed how you reacted. He didn’t mean it in a flirty way but he took note of how flustered it made you. 
Since that day, Rooster has made sure to say that to you as often as he could. You reacted the same every time. He loved it. He would even try to get you to ask something so he could respond with it.
“Hey y/n, do you like my new shirt?” He had asked you one day
“It looks just like your other Hawaiian shirts. That’s new?” You asked confused
“Yes ma’am, it is” He smirked at you
“Oh- uh- well its’s very- uh nice yeah..” You stuttered and started walking away fast.
He laughed and watched as you practically ran away.
A few days later everyone was having drinks together and you were sat next to Rooster. 
“Is that the new beer we just got in?” You asked him, wondering because you wanted to try it too.
“Yes ma’am”, he let out a small laugh and looked you right in the eyes, “Wanna try it?”
“Oh uh it’s ok, I don’t wanna take any of your drink” You said as heat spread through your body. You were sure you looked just like a tomato. 
“Don’t worry darlin’, here, try it” He held the cup up to you and you took a sip. He watched you the entire time.
“That’s really good!” You stated
“Yes ma’am, very good” Rooster was wanting to see how flustered he could get you.
You couldn’t take it. Your body felt like it was on fire. This man was killing you.
“Alright I think I’m gonna head out guys” You said quickly and left. Before you got to your car you felt Rooster grabbing your hand. You turned around to look at him and he kept walking forward til your back hit the car. He put his arms on either side of you, trapping you.
You were looking up at him through your eyelashes, unsure of what was happening.
“Bradley?” You said
“Yes ma’am?” He replied
“Can you kiss me?” You asked as you ran your hands up his chest and around his neck
“Yes ma’am” He groaned and started to kiss you. You two made out for a while just like that. His hands roamed your body and yours stayed put on his neck. Eventually he pulled away
“So, “Yes ma’am” does it for ya?” He joked with you.
“Ughhh I don’t even know, when you say it it’s my weakness for some reason” You looked down embarrassed. That comment went straight to his ego.
“Oh so it’s only when I say it?” He laughed “I’ll say it all day long if it means I get to kiss you”
Your heart fluttered and you smiled at him.
“So, can I have another kiss?” He asked you
“Yes, sir” You replied cheekily. 
He groaned and put his head on your shoulder.
“I get it now because if you say that again, I’ll have to take you back to my place” He said in a low strained voice. You leaned into him.
“Yes sir” You whispered in his ear. Oh yeah, you were in for a long night.
...
Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist :)
Taglist: @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @datingbtr​
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currentlybradshaw · 2 years
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nightly routine | b.b.
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pairing: bradley “rooster” bradshaw x wife!reader
description: in which our sweet bradley helps a sleepy reader with her nightly routines
warnings: teeth rotting domestic fluff with a brief shower scene and a few suggestive lines sprinkled in
word count: 1.2k
His fingertips massaged your scalp as he worked the sweet-smelling shampoo into your hair. The familiar scent it left on the pillows of your shared bed was one he knew would be burned into his memory as long as he lived. Hot water streamed down on the two of you, helping to wash away the stress of the work day. Thankfully, it was Friday, so you would finally get a day to yourselves tomorrow.
Bradley leaned down to place a kiss on your shoulder before he shifted you back under the water, letting you rinse the bubbly mess from your hair. You failed to hold back a yawn as you did so. “Someone’s sleepy,” he teased. Your eyes were closed, trying your best not to get soap in them, but you just knew there was a soft grin playing on his lips.
Bradley shut the water off and stepped out of the shower with you behind him. After quickly drying off, you wrapped your hair up in your towel while he secured his around his waist. You reached to grab the plush robe he already had waiting for you. The fuzzy material felt soft against your skin; you tied the belt into a bow as another yawn escaped your lips. “I am so tired. I don’t even have the energy for my routines tonight.” You rubbed at your eyes in an attempt to will away the sleepiness that overwhelmed your body.
Your nightly routines, especially your post-shower routines, were something you always did no matter what — Bradley knew that too. He loved watching you go through all the steps; it was fascinating to him. Having seen you do it so many times, he could probably do it himself with his eyes closed. He wrapped his arms around your shoulders as you stood in front of the bathroom mirror. “Nope, you never skip on your routines, and we can’t have you starting now, little lady.” His voice was soft in your ear before he left a kiss on your cheek. “How about you let me do it for you?”
Your eyes met his in the reflection. “Are you sure you’re up for that? — It’s quite a process,” you said, giving him a questioning look. “Oh, I know, sweetheart,” he lightly tightened his embrace on you, “but I would be more than happy to take over tonight.” Before you could put up a fuss with what little energy you had left, he turned you around and hoisted you up onto the countertop. The cool marble hitting the back of your thighs made a slight shiver rush through your body.
Bradley tugged open the drawer where you stored your skincare essentials and started setting out everything he needed. You were somewhat surprised by his actions. Sure, he would sit with you during your routines, occasionally asking which products did what, but it hadn’t occurred to you that he was actually paying attention. Grabbing the first product, he asked, “Are you ready, baby?” You nodded up at him while letting out a little giggle as he rubbed the serum between his fingers. “Don’t look at me, please.” Concentration was already heavy on his features.
He swept the various products across your face, careful not to get any in your eyes or hair. You would occasionally sneak a peek at him just to make sure he was still going in the correct order. At one point in the process, he grazed over a slightly ticklish spot below your jaw, causing you to scrunch your nose as you tried not to squirm away. He had to let out a little chuckle at that; you were too cute.
After finishing your skincare, he gathered you up in one swift motion and carried the short distance to the bed before laying you down. “I’ll be right back, honey! — I know we aren’t done yet!” He returned a minute later, holding up your hairbrush and the bottle of lotion you always used after the shower. “I think you’re enjoying this a little too much, babe,” you said, shaking your head. He just gave you one of his goofy grins and a shrug in response, a pleased look on his face.
He didn’t waste any time rubbing the lotion into your skin, his skilled fingers working out any tension and soreness as he went along. Your smooth legs felt like silk under his calloused palms. It reminded him of how they felt under the sheets as they brushed against his own. Or how they looked when you wore those sundresses he loved so much — they seemed to give off the most enticing glow, which always drove him crazy.
You were in a state of pure bliss as he worked his magic on you, but as his fingers danced higher up your inner thigh, you were quickly pulled out of your trance. You pressed your foot into his chest, lightly pushing him away. “Not tonight, Bradshaw,” you warned, shooting him a halfhearted glare. He raised one of his hands in surrender. “Just making sure I didn’t miss anything.” He brought your ankle that was still in his grasp to his lips, giving it a quick peck before he began the process all over again on your other leg.
After he was satisfied with how your skin beamed under the dim lighting, Bradley went to his side of the closet to find you a sleep shirt. He wasn’t letting you lift a finger, insisting on doing everything as he tugged your robe off and slipped the oversized shirt on you. Once you were changed, he joined you on the bed, resting his large frame against the headboard before pulling you to sit between his legs. 
You sat crisscrossed in front of him while he untangled the towel from your hair, attempting to smooth it down before he started brushing. “Tell me if it pulls too much, and I’ll stop, okay?” He was as gentle as ever, making sure not to hurt you. The feeling of the bristles lightly scratching your scalp was enough to make your eyes start to flutter shut as you let out a sigh of contentment. Having your hair brushed or played with was a weakness you both shared; it would lull either of you to sleep in a matter of minutes.
You felt him shift behind you as the movements of the brush gliding through your hair stopped. He wrapped an arm around you, holding you in place as he leaned over to put your hairbrush on the nightstand. “All done, sweet girl,” he whispered against the side of your neck, mustache tickling your skin as he peppered a few kisses. 
Bradley stood the two of you up before moving to hold the covers open for you. You gladly crawled in, pulling the sheets up to your chin. The room grew dark as you heard your husband shuffling across the floor. You felt the bed dip beside you, warm arms engulfing your body not a second later. You snuggled against his bare chest, staying there for a moment before leaning back to peer up at him. “Think you could take over again sometime?” You felt a soft laugh rumble through him. “Just tell me when, honey.” He kissed your forehead and pulled you back into him; you yawned one last time before finally allowing yourself to drift off to sleep.
AN: if you’ve made it this far, i just wanted to say a huge thank you! likes, comments, and reblogs are always welcome! 🫶🏻
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katsu28 · 1 year
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🍭 jesus you're hot." "what?" with rooster maybe?? CONGRATS ON 1K 💕💕
thank you sweet anon baby i love u!!! here's rooster being the most helpful boyfriend but still a little shit <3
bradley "rooster" bradshaw x reader, much fluff, 1.1k
Rooster was happy when he got home tonight, still buzzing with excitement from spending some well needed time with his friends after a grueling few weeks of training. He whistled the tune to the song that was on the radio last as he made his way up the walk and let himself inside, locking the door behind him before he did anything else.
Your voice echoed from somewhere in the house the moment the door closed. “That you, Roos?” 
“No, I’m a house burglar.” 
“You’re hilarious. How was squad night?” Rooster could tell you were rolling your eyes playfully at his words. 
“Good. Missed you though. The guys wanna know if you're still doing happy hour with us next week, and Phoenix says you better come so you can be her wingwoman.” He called back, pulling open the fridge to grab a bottle of water before wandering down the hall in search of the love of his life (aka you).
When he found you in the bedroom, you were sitting at the vanity clad in one of his faded Navy t-shirts with your back towards him, but he could see you in the mirror with a shiny looking sheet mask over your face, your hair held up and away from it by the fluffy headband thing you always used whenever you did your makeup.
You caught his eye in the mirror, beaming at him happily. “Thanks for reminding me, I’ll text Nat later.”
Rooster ambled into the room, tossing his jacket on the bed, unloading his pockets on the nightstand, taking a sip of his water. All the while, you were brushing your hair, brow creased in concentration at the task at hand and not at all at him watching you do your thing. 
“Jesus you’re hot.” He mumbled, leaning against the doorway with one shoulder. 
You tore your eyes away from your moving hands, turning around in your chair to face him. “What?” 
“You heard me, sweetheart.” 
“I’ve got stuff all over my face, Bradley, I really doubt I’m anything close to eye candy right now.” You chuckled, setting down the brush. Rooster shot you a pointed look. 
“Uh, no. Total eye candy, all the time. You could be wearing a trash bag covered in bird shit and I’d still think you’re the hottest, prettiest girl in the whole world, baby.” 
“That’s…disgusting.” 
“I’m trying to be romantic here, woman!” 
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry!” You laughed, finally rising from your seat and making your way across the room to him. He was rosy cheeked, warm to the touch when your hands linked around the back of his neck, a hint of beer on his breath as he slid in closer to you. You kissed his cheek, lingering in his embrace for a few more seconds before attempting to wriggle away. “I gotta wash this mask off, Roos.” Rooster let out a groan, sagging back against the doorframe dramatically. “You can come with me if you're gonna be all sad and mopey about it.”
He perked up at that, following you to the bathroom like a lost puppy, and when you grabbed a small washcloth from the drawer, he cocked his head, meeting your eye in the mirror yet again. “Can I take it off for you?” 
You arched an eyebrow at him, shooting him a ‘really?’ look.
“Get your mind out of the gutter, I meant the mask.” He tsked, giving your side a light pinch. “Dirty, dirty mind you’ve got there, sweetheart. I gotta watch out for you.” 
“Knock yourself out.” 
Grinning, he lifted you onto the counter, peeling off the sticky mask delicately so as to make sure it all came off in one piece, and tossing it in the trash before grabbing the towel and wetting it with warm water. Your eyes fluttered shut as Rooster wiped all over your face gently, one of his hands cupping your face to hold your head still while he got all the excess mask off. The stroke of his hand was careful yet deliberate, like everything he did. 
He reached for your headband next, letting the elastic of it snap against your eyes and snickering when you huffed and swatted blindly at him. As soon as he’d gotten it off though, he grinned, immediately bringing his other hand up to tuck your hair behind your ear.
“There’s my girl.” He hummed, tilting his head. There was a glint in his eye that he only got when he was gearing up to kiss you, but you clamped a hand over his mouth before he could, tilting your chin up at him. 
“Nuh uh. What do I need to do before you do that?” 
Rooster’s eyebrows creased in thought, frowning for a second before straightening up suddenly, snapping his fingers in realization. “Moisturizer!” 
“Good.” His hand hovered above the collection of tiny bottles on the counter, fingers wiggling until he found the right one. He popped the cap, squirting a decent sized amount into his palm and spreading it around before promptly planting both hands on your face, squishing your cheeks as he rubbed in the moisturizer playfully rough. 
“Oh, you asshole!” You spluttered, trying to bat his hands away from your face. He busted up at your indignance, going in again a lot softer this time and making sure he’d gotten every part of your face. Now came the time to kiss you and he did, pressing his lips against yours briefly but earnestly. 
“Done and doner. Who’s the best boyfriend in the world?” He nodded proudly when he pulled away, pointing at himself with his thumbs. “I’m gonna save you the headache, because the answer is this guy!”
“I mean, I guess so,” You sighed mock defeatedly, giggling at the way his features instantly warmed into offense. “The best boyfriend in the world would come to bed and cuddle with me until I fall asleep.” 
Rooster nodded quickly. “Lemme shower real quick, then I’ll be right there,” He insisted, punctuating his promise with another peck to your lips. 
“I dunno, I might fall asleep before you’re done.” You never went to bed without him when he was home, but you loved to mess with him every so often. 
“You wouldn’t dare.” He glared at you. “I’ll wake you up again, I swear to god.” 
“Hurry up and shower then, drama queen.” 
“Ten minutes, tops!” 
He was true to his word, squeaky clean and climbing into bed and wrapping you in his arms not even ten minutes later. His hair was still a little damp and curling at the ends, but he smelled delicious, like soap and—
“Did you use my shampoo?” 
“...no?” 
You squinted up at him, to which he averted his gaze guiltily. "Sure smells like you did."
“Baby, if you didn’t want me to use it, stop buying such good smelling shower shit.” 
“You’re the reason I keep running out of shampoo so fast! Oh my god, I knew it wasn’t me!” 
“I’ll run to the drugstore in the morning.” 
“You better.”
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spideystevie · 1 year
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💘 hellooo, i’m so excited for your valentine’s house party! so here’s my prompt, hope you feel inspired w this one bc it’s giving me butterflies tbh “trying to hide a blush in the mornings because their morning/sleepy voice is a little too nice to listen to” from the fourth list with our guy rooster <3 idk why but roommate!rooster just hits real hard for me
this prompt was sooo cute and so real, i was so excited to write it. roommate!rooster hits hard for me too anon! and i hope i did him justice <3 - [0.7k] | join the party!
You weren’t too keen on the idea of a roommate initially. Especially when you had only just recently moved to a new city. But your friend knew a friend who had a spare room you could have and the rent was cheaper than anywhere else you’d looked. 
When you moved in, you hadn’t expected your roommate to be so, well, pretty. He was tall, his skin a golden sunkissed shade and his hair looked equally so. His eyes were warm and inviting like his smile and he had a neatly trimmed mustache sitting just above the curve of his upper lip. 
Your friend had also neglected to mention that he was a naval aviator. You weren’t sure why the fact that he flew around in giant, expensive hunks of metal for a living made him the slightest bit more attractive to you. 
Rooster, as your friend knew him, had come to prove himself to be arguably the best roommate you’d ever had. You hadn’t quite expected that. In fact, you had mentally prepared yourself that he’d be messy and gross and awful just to be pleasantly surprised in the end. 
The one downfall that came to living with Rooster was that goddamn voice of his in the morning. You could handle the low hanging sweats or plaid pajama pants and tight fitting black t-shirts he’d wear, just barely. But his voice in the morning almost felt like a deal breaker. 
Maybe you were just being dramatic. But hearing him say your name through a yawn and wish you a good morning with his voice shrouded in sleep was enough to have you falling to the floor.
Okay, you were definitely being dramatic. 
It’s a Saturday morning and you’ve woken up before him which is unusual. You use it as an opportunity to make the two of you breakfast, feeling ambitious when you find the pancake mix in the cupboards. The sun’s fully above the horizon, birds chirping outside the windows when you hear him come down the hall. 
He’s wearing plaid pajama pants this morning and an old navy t-shirt that seems to fit smaller than it once did. He yawns and tries to stifle it with one of his fists. A pinch forms between his eyebrows when he sees you cooking in the kitchen. 
“Morning, Rooster,” you greet, flipping a pancake on the griddle. There’s still traces of sleep on his face as he passes by to the coffee machine, the smallest smile on his face. 
“You know you can call me Bradley, right?” he asks and there it is. His voice is thick, still heavy from a good night’s sleep. It’s almost gravelly, rough around the edges and a notch deeper than usual. You chew on the inside of your cheek. As much as it drove you insane, it was almost too sweet to listen to. 
“Right. Bradley,” you say. You’re trying to fight off the rapidly arising butterflies in your stomach purely just from the sound of his morning voice. He comes to stand by you just as you’re sliding the pancakes off the griddle and onto a clean plate nearby. 
The proximity is making your heart race and you hope he can’t hear it. 
“These for me?” he asks. You glance at him briefly and then at the small stack of pancakes and nod, smiling at him. You can feel a heavy warmth rising in your face and up to your ears, down to your chest at the sound of his voice. God, you needed to get a grip. 
Bradley picks up the plate and in a split second decision, presses a chaste kiss against your cheek, his lips soft and his mustache brushing against your skin. It’s over as soon as it starts but it sets your heart and mind ablaze.
You freeze for a moment and your face feels scalding now. You hope he couldn’t tell just how warm your skin was when he kissed it. 
He sits at one of the kitchen barstools, facing where you stand pouring the rest of the pancake batter onto the griddle for your own breakfast. A pleased groan gets caught in his throat when he takes a bite. 
“This is so good,” he praises and you press your lips together to contain a grin. Your chin tucks against your chest only just, hoping it’ll hide whatever kind of blush or bashful look you’ve got right now.
His eyes twinkle as he looks at you, unbeknownst to you, a smile toying at his lips.
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notroosterbradshaw · 1 year
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That 100 different kisses list has me thinking about 80 with Rooster 😵‍💫
PROMPT: 80. crashing your lips together during an argument
thank you for this, Anna, angst with fluff for you xx
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“I just don't fucking get it,” you muttered after Rooster. He pushed open the door, conscious of you behind him, holding the door so it wouldn’t hit you in his frustration, and you followed him out of the bar and he stomped to the car. “I was not flirting with him - I mean, not the way you 'talk to girls at the bar',” you petulantly used the latter part of the sentence in air quotes just to belittle him a bit more and he threw his hands up, frustrated. “I didn't even accept the drink!”
He stopped and spun to look at you, his eyes dark with rage. “He asked for your number.”
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“Again, I didn't give it to him. What did you see that I didn't?” you begged to know. You didn't accept a drink, and you didn't give him your number, it didn't seem deeper than that. Rooster was usually much more comfortable in his own skin and was happy for you to chat with anyone at the bar. “I get to leave with the hottest guy in the bar and you think I'm entertaining the thought of cheating on you... while you're mere meters away?” you were baffled.
He chewed his lip, the cool night air calming a little after the stifling heat in the bar. “He asked for your number while I was standing next to you.”
“And you threatened to put your fist down his throat,” you added.
“And you’re angry at that?” he asked incredulously. “I'm in the wrong here?” he was seething.
“Oh, I get it now. You don't understand why you're the bad guy when you threaten violence to a guy that's hitting on me - and getting nothing, for the record - who walks away like you and I are both batshit crazy?”
He rolled his eyes, digging his keys from his pocket to your car, the Bronco getting the night off. “This is bullshit.”
"No, it's not. You're acting like an asshole and I called you out on it, so you’re having a 34-year-old’s version of a tantrum. I can't even imagine the ramifications if you followed through," you continued. 
“Do you ever fucking stop?” he asked, opening the passenger side, and in grandiose form, pleading you get in the car. “Ma'am, you piece of shit chariot awaits.”
“Fuck's sake, you don't have to take it out on the car, Bradley,” you snipped at him, getting in as he slammed the door behind you. You buckled up just in time for him to slide into the driver's seat and he harshly adjusted the seat and mirrors.
“Jesus Christ,” he started the car, whipping his belt on.
“Oh, my God,” you rolled your eyes, kicking your heels off and putting your feet on the dash. The overreaction was just spectacular. 
“Look,” he pressed the ignition, the car roaring to life. He cursed the music that you were both listening to on the trip here and bashed at the volume mute until it behaved. “I don’t want any guy to feel comfortable around you enough to think that you’re available to them.”
“That is the saddest thing I’ve ever heard,” you muttered. “Just drive home. I can’t deal with you anymore tonight. I thought this was going okay, but clearly, we’re on two very different pages here. I’m not going to be possessed by you. You don’t own me, or who I talk to, whether you think I’m leading them on or not. This is about you, not me.”
“I’m in love with you, fuck,” he exclaimed. “Can’t you see that? I don’t want whatever this casual thing is, I want us. You flirting with other guys makes me think I’m fucking drowning and you don’t feel the same,” he didn’t look at you. 
You didn’t look at him, but you sure heard him. The silence in the car was deafening. You’d yet to say those words and although you didn’t want to be casual with Bradley at all, this wasn’t exactly the way you wanted him to tell you he was in love with you - mid-argument. “You’re so fucking ridiculous,” you told him.
“I tell you I love you, and I’m ridiculous?” his tone still rough.
“Do you think that telling me you love me while you’re degrading me is fair?” you yelled.
“Well, no,” he admitted, his hands clutching the steering wheel, knuckles white.
“Fuck, I love you too,” you sighed, rubbing your face and finally turning to look at him, looking right back at you, eyes searching your face desperately. And before you could speak again, his hands drew around the back of your neck and brought you to him, kissing you like his life depended on it - like you were his air. He felt your body and sighed as he felt the seatbelt, releasing it and pulling you closer to him. 
“I love you,” he breathed. “I’m so in love with you. Please tell me you feel the same?” he pulled your hair, panting as he rested his forehead against yours. He knew his actions didn’t represent his feelings and realised he may have ruined everything before it even began.
“I love you, Bradley, I do,” you kissed him deeply, the adrenaline waning and he kissed your forehead. “Please don’t act like that again. I don’t like when you’re jealous. It’s not endearing at all.”
“I won’t,” he promised. “I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”
“I love you,” you reaffirmed for him. He sighed and smiled. Your Bradley returning to you. He kissed you again, gentle and loving
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katcoquette · 2 years
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Home
Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x wife!Reader
masterlist | taglist
summary: requested by anon! you're worried your husband might miss the birth of your first baby, but instead you get a sweet reunion after months apart.
★ word count: 1.4k
★ tw: pregnancy
★ author's note: idk if I even want children but I would for this man & this was such a cute request thank you <;3
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You hadn’t seen your husband in months.
Although it wasn’t unusual for him to be on assignment for months at a time, you were usually allowed to go with him- he’d spend weeks training, still coming home to you every night, and you’d only be apart for a few days when the actual mission was taking place- but this time was different.
He’d told you it was highly classified, and he was being forced to leave a three-month pregnant (and extremely upset) you at home.
The details were sparse, the time frame vague, and you hadn’t been able to talk to him more than a handful of times in the four months he’d already been gone.
To say you were miserable would be an understatement- you were hormonal, worried, scared, and you missed him more than anything. On particularly hard days, you’d spend hours feeling sorry for yourself, cursing the navy for forcing your husband to miss out on so many of your firsts.
Your first child, your first pregnancy, finding out the sex of your baby (which was sitting in an envelope in your nightstand- you refused to do that without him), and several other firsts you’d wished he could be there for.
You were in the middle of one of these pity parties when you heard a knock on the door. You groan, dragging yourself out of bed to answer, and open the door to see two smiling faces standing on the other side.
“Mrs. Bradshaw.” Jake grins, walking past you to set your mail that he’d collected on the table. “You’re looking chipper this morning.” He notes sarcastically, making a noise when Natasha hits his arm, which you appreciate. You shut the door behind them and collapse onto the couch.
“I’m almost eight months pregnant, Jake, and it’s the middle of summer. I’m fucking miserable.” You rest your head on Natasha’s shoulder when she sits down next to you and look up at Jake where he’s standing in your living room.
“What are you two doing here? I thought we had planned tomorrow? Or am I mixing things up again?”
“Taskforce decided to stop by a day early. In the area and all of that.” Jake smiles, and you’re sure he’s hiding something as he sits down in the chair across from you.
Bradley had enlisted his friends in a ‘taskforce’ to check in on you while he was gone, and they’d had a field day with it. The officialness of it all was highly amusing to them and to you, (because why wouldn’t they check on you anyway?) and the joke had taken off from there.
You roll your eyes, letting a smile peek onto your lips. “Right. Right.” You hum, then gesture to your posture on the couch. “Well as you can see, I’m doing great.”
He chuckles, “I always knew you were my favorite.”
This causes a full smile to grace your lips. “I really do appreciate you guys looking out for me.” You squeeze Natasha’s hand, and she smiles back at you.
“We don’t mind at all, Y/N. You’re family.” She assures you.
You nod, and she follows up with a question, “How are you actually doing?”
You sigh, resting your hand on your growing stomach. “It’s been hard. I’m worried he’s not gonna be back in time. I mean what then? It’s bad enough to be going through the pregnancy without him, he’d be heartbroken if he missed the birth.”
At this, Natasha shares a look with Jake. You notice immediately and sit up straighter. “You two know something, don’t you?”
“Wellll…” Jake starts.
It doesn’t take long for you to convince them to spill their classified information: you pull the pregnancy card, shed a few tears that they see right through but kindly pretend they don’t, and then they’re swearing you to secrecy.
He’d be home in a week.
༛ ༛ ༛༛
The next week was one of the busiest of your life. You got the official notification two days ago, and now you were standing with a few other families in the hanger.
You fan yourself with the envelope anxiously, waiting for him to land. When you see the jets fly overhead, you stuff the envelope into your back pocket.
And then the engines are cutting.
Your breath hitches in your throat and your movements stop as you see the canopy of his jet open. You’re frozen in place, a sob threatening to escape from your throat at any second as you watch him climb down, take off his helmet, and spot you in the small crowd that had gathered to welcome their family members home.
All you can manage to do as he jogs toward you is return his smile, tears already pooling in your eyes, and hold open your arms when he reaches you. He sweeps you up into his arms, turning once before letting your feet hit the ground again.
“Bradley…” You choke out, clinging to him so tightly you’re not sure anyone would be able to pry him from you again. “Hi baby.” He says it into your hair, his head buried into your neck as you hold each other.
When you readjust your grip on him, he realizes just how relieved you are to have him back. He rubs your back soothingly, cradling your head to his shoulder as you cry.
“Hey…” He chuckles through his own tears. “It’s okay, I’m not leaving you again.” You nod, turning your head to rest it against his chest. His arms tighten around you again, and he kisses the top of your head, and you realize how much you’d missed the safety you found there.  
“Are you doing okay?” His hands move to cup your face, eyes first glancing you over, and then searching your own for any sign of deeper distress.
You nod, putting your hands over his. “I’m okay.” You confirm, and he smiles at you, satisfied with your answer. “Good.” He squishes your cheeks together, making you laugh.
And then he’s kissing you. If one kiss could heal all the pain from your months without him, it would be this one.
He only pulls away enough to allow him to speak, resting his forehead against yours. “I missed you more than anything, sweetheart.” He runs his hands up and down your arms, and even though the heat was pushing 90 degrees, you still get goosebumps.
He takes your hands and holds them out, putting some space between the two of you.
“Let me get a look at ya.” He grins, and looks you up and down, focusing in on your bump that had grown significantly in his absence. He gingerly places a hand there, “I missed you too.” You can feel your baby shift, and then a soft kick hits against his palm.
He looks up from your stomach in awe, and you smile softly. “We both missed you, so so much.” You press another kiss to his lips, and then it’s your turn to inspect him as he takes off the rest of his gear.
“And you’re okay too? You’re not hurt?” He shakes his head, “No, everything’s good.” He pulls you back into his arms, sighing contently. “We did it. Not too bad, huh?” He jokes.
“Speak for yourself.” You tease back, and he laughs. “God, that was too long. I missed out on so much.”
“But you didn’t miss the most important part.” You remember the envelope in your back pocket and pull it out, holding it between both of your faces. “And I saved this part for you.” He smiles, plucking it out of your hands. “I was wondering what that was.” He winks.
He’s barely opened the envelope before he’s realizing what it is. “Is this?” You nod, moving under his arm to his side so you can open it together. You hold his hand on your shoulder as both of your eyes scan the page, and you spot the news at the same time.
A gasp leaves your lips as you look up to see an affectionate smile on your husband’s face. “I had a feeling.” He says softly. You glance back down to confirm one more time, finger brushing over the words on the page.
“Our little family.” He breathes out, bending his arm so you’re tucked back into his chest, and pressing another kiss to your head, whispers “I love you.”
With the paper in your hand, and more tears in your eyes, you throw your arms over his shoulders, and kiss him. “I love you too.”
“Let’s go home.”
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call-sign-jinx · 4 months
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Endless Love (Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw) - Chapter 1
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summary - Y/N Y/L/N and Bradley Bradshaw have had a rivalry ever since they both attended the same academy. Every chance they took, they always tried to one up each other. One day, Bradley takes the rivalry too far and Y/N ends up in the hospital with serious injuries. Will it make Y/N want to get him back twice as worse? Or will it make her realise that this rivalry between them is childish?
warnings - swearing, enemies to lovers, mention of serious injury, traumatic episodes, reader traumatised from what happened, smut, slowburn, seizures, flashbacks
a/n - hiya girliesss! this is my very FIRST series on here! i rlly hope u guys like it! enjoyyyyyy! xx
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Bradley Bradshaw and I have always had a rivalry since we were at the academy. I think I'm better than him, he thinks he's better than me. However, on paper, we were just as good as each other. Same scores on all tests and practical tests. Same amount of medals. Same amount of almost everything. I realised that, but wanted to change the fact that we were the same. Because I earned my place at Top Gun. I literally flew from Greater Manchester to San Diego for Top Gun! I had to work hard enough for the money, enough money for the ticket, visa, small shitty apartment, furniture. Everything.
When I was talking to Cyclone the other day - because of an argument that me and Rooster had - he said that we were actually quite alike. I scoffed at the idea. How could me and Bradshaw me similar? I completely disagreed with Cyclone and voiced my opinions, knowing what the consequences of opposing my superior, but to my shock he respected me for standing up to him as not many people do these days. His words, not mine. 
It was now the first official day at Top Gun, well, not really, but everyone was going to be at the Hard Deck to meet each other and celebrate that we got into Top Gun, the best of the best.
I was one of the last to arrive (shit traffic) and my eyes immediately found another female aviator. Thank fucking God. So glad I'm not the only one. I confidently walked over and introduced myself.
"Hi, I'm Vandal. But you can call me Y/N." I stick my hand out for her to shake and I can tell she is just as relieved as me to not be the only woman here.
"Phoenix, but you can call me Nat." She had a confident smile on her face.
She told me everyone's names, Hangman (who she calls Bagman to piss him off), Coyote (basically Hangman's ass kisser, Nat's words not mine), Fanboy, Payback, Bob and then she pointed to the person I disliked most in the world, Bradshaw. Great, I knew he was coming to Top Gun because he tried to shove it in my face when he found out, but I just wish he wasn't here right now. Phoenix obviously saw the way I rolled my eyes with a groan. 
"What? You don't like the pornstache?" She has a smirk on her face as she points over to Bradshaw who is most definitely locking lips with some poor blonde girl who thinks he's into her for more than sex.
"Well, on top of that, we went to the same academy. He was a total prick. But so was I. In a way, we kind of have a rivalry going on. About who is better than who." Phoenix raised a brow as she listened.
"Oh so you're the 'British bitch' he's always complaining about!" Phoenix has a happy but surprised look on her face.
"British bitch? He needs some originality with insults." I roll my eyes as my gaze finds Bradshaw, as per, picking up girls after ditching the blonde. Guess he got bored of her.
"Why do you two have that rivalry anyway? I've asked Rooster about it but he never actually answers it." I roll my eyes again and sigh.
"Because we both can't put up with being the same, one of us has to be on top. It best be me though, I don't like coming second." I cross my arms as I glare at Bradshaw. I hate him. Why can't he just put up with being second? I mean, I had to most my life until I joined the academy, so it mustn't be that hard.
"Seems you're quite the competitive one." Phoenix has a smirk on her face as she crosses her arms. "Want a game of pool? Heard Bagman is 'undefeated' so I really hope you can burst his ego."
My ears immediately perk up at the mention of a competition. especially someone who is 'undefeated.' Not for any longer though.
--------------------------------------------
"Oh come on! Beginners luck!" Hangman couldn't deal with the fact that someone actually beat him at pool, let alone a female. I smirk at him as I have just potted the winning ball.
"Come on Jake, you gotta just deal with finally being beaten." I raise a brow, my smirk growing bigger as Hangman's anger is seeping from him.
"What about a game of darts? Closest to... 180 wins." Hangman sticks out his hand for me to shake, I fake thinking about it for a second before eagerly shaking his hand.
"Ladies first." Hangman gestures for me to stand in front of the dart board.
"Age before beauty." I gesture for him to stand there, he stood in front of the dart board in defeat. He threw all 3 darts and scored 175. Now its my turn.
I take a deep breath and focus. I threw my first dart. It landed on a triple 20! Now I just have to get two more. I threw my second dart, landed on a triple 20 again. I could hear Hangman groan. Which only made my confidence grow. I threw my last dart. It landed on another triple 20!
"That's 180 Hangman! I win!" I had a triumphant smirk on my face as Hangman has all but defeat in his eyes.
"Aww don't be so upset Hangman, you're still second best." I had an evil smirk as Phoenix can't help but laugh.
"How? No one and I mean no one has ever beaten me at darts!" Hangman runs a hand through his hair as he gets a better look at the dart board to see if one of my darts was just close enough to the area above or below it. They weren't.
"Guess because I wasn't here." I pat him on his back and gesture to the bartender if I could get two more beers. One for me and one for Hangman.
"Here Bagman, to make you feel better." I giggle as I pass him the beer.
The rest of the night went by like a breeze. Hangman demanding a rematch every 10 minutes, me and Phoenix gossiping, Fanboy, Payback and Coyote playing pool, Bob sat near the wall nearly out of sight, and Bradshaw, at the piano with another girl on his lap as he sings Great Balls of Fire by Jerry Lee Lewis.
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saltsicklover · 7 months
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Mud on the Floor - BRB - Broken House
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I had this one ready to go because I thought the poll was going to go this way! Anyway, I hope you enjoy it anyway, even though this is literally not what you asked for!
Title: Mud on the Floor
Series: Broken House
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 2600+
Rating: R
Warnings: Swearing, Sexual Themes, Thunderstorms, Angst Fluff Angst Sandwich.
A late afternoon storm hits the Hard Deck on Friday. Honey seems to be the only person not completely taken aback by the opening of the sky as she drives into work. The streets of California turn from open window joy rides to panicked skidding and hydroplaning as the concrete is pelted with rain. Honey drives slow, humming to her favorite song playing through static over the radio. The music takes her back to the first time Bradley held her close, in rain just like this, her mind no longer focused on chasing a ghost.  
"Hey, eyes on the road there, handsy," Honey pushes Bradley's hand from her thigh. He lets his fingers graze over the warmth of her skin, savoring each micro-moment before his hand hits the space between them. He turns his eyes back to the road, obeying her request, though he would rather sit and stare at Honey in the passenger seat. 
"You didn't seem to mind me being handsy this weekend," Bradley's tone is full of tease, the point of his tongue darting out of his mouth to tease the woman sitting next to him. He knows she's watching him. Honey's eyes haven't stopped tracing the edges of his profile for the last fifty miles and he doubts that fact will change any time soon. 
There is a meekness to the hum Bradley's comment is met with, it's noncommittal and unpressed, but he feels the warmth of her fingers snake through his own. Bradley lets himself smile, wide and toothy. He has stopped hiding his smiles since he met Honey all of four days ago. Their chance meeting at a bar in a rainstorm lead to their bodies tangled in cheap motel sheets, the fabric scratchy against their kiss stained skin. 
"You weren't driving this weekend," Honey points out. An absentminded stroke of her thumb over his own sends a shiver up his spine. God, Honey has this effect on him. This overtaking feeling of warmth that scatters across his skin like sparks on pavement. Bradley tries to soak in each ripple, each shiver, each spark, afraid that it will be gone as quickly as it came. 
"I thought I was driving you crazy, Sweet Girl," Bradley's words are coated in sugar water, sweet and refreshing. That nickname was new, and the way it left his lips made Honey wish he would whisper it again just so she could let it roll over her, slowly this time, so she could actually take the time to appreciate it. Still, she basks in it, lets it take over her senses- and it makes her feel alive. 
Lately, with Honey chasing any information about her father from base to base, post to post, port to air field and back again, she's felt like more shell than human. Her father is basically a ghost when you're a civilian. He lies hidden behind red tape and security clearance; both too full of bureaucracy and too lacking in empathy for the abandoned. 
"You are starting to drive me a different kind of crazy here, Brad," Honey's gentle fingers meet the side of his chin, pushing his eyeline back towards the road. Bradley wants to roll his eyes at her, but the feeling of his hand now holding onto the thickness of her leg, her own hand set atop his, keeps his eyeline unrolling on the road in front of them. "It looks like the sky is going to open up again any minute," 
"I hate the rain," The mutter coming from the man causes a gasp to all but rip through Honey. Her hand leaves the rolled spine of her book on her lap, dancing quickly through the air before she covers her newly gaping mouth. Bradley all but puts the break pedal to the floor, skidding to the side of the road at the noise, panic shooting though him. The Bronco is thrown in park so hast the gears of the engine almost lock. The look he gives her is nothing short of bewilderment when he finds her unharmed and looking a him like he's the crazy one. 
"What the fuck was that?" 
"You take that back," 
Both speak at the same time, each sentence their own version of momentary anger. Neither of them mean it, and both are quick to swallow the remainder of emotion still sitting on their tongue. 
Then, the sky opens up with a large crack of lightening, lighting up the massive gray sky. The bolt flashes over cabin of the Bronco, lighting up their faces. Honey looks at Bradley, her lips parted slightly. They are plush and full, the bottom one having just been released from the prison between her teeth. There are light teeth marks in the flesh and Bradley wants nothing more in that moment than to slide his own tongue over the groves and ease the pulsing under the dimpled flesh. 
Honey's eyes are drawn to the amber flecks in Bradley's eyes. They shone almost gold in the flash of purple white light not a moment before. Honey can't help but lean closer to him. She brings one leg up onto the seat, the other still on the floorboards with the book that slid from it's place in her lap. She leans closer still, trying to locate the gold hidden in the rich molasses of his eyes, hidden behind curled lashes that dust his cheeks with each too short blink. He doesn't dare look away from her too long for fear that her eyes would no longer be on his. 
A little crack of a smile crosses across Honey's expression, the attempt to hid it with a flick of her tongue over her lips catches Bradley's attention. He tentatively brings a hand up to her cheek, swiping the pad of his thumb over the fullness of her bottom lip. His fingertips barely graze over his cheek before they make a home near her hairline. The way she leans into his touch does nothing to quell the embers burning in Bradley's chest. Before this moment, he didn't know there could be so much passion behind the smallest of movements; his heart beats rhythmically against the backside of his ribs in a way that almost knocks the breath form his lungs. 
"What'cha smiling at, Sweet Girl?"  He almost has to suck in another deep breathe as he watches her shudder lightly, goosebumps breaking out over the expanses of her skin. He wishes he could see that little shiver again is slow motion, the way her eyes close and the corners of her mouth pull 
There's that name again, and the way he whispered it so huskily it makes her hands shake. Honey swallows thickly, trying to get control of her own body. She almost finds her hands reaching for Bradley, dying to feel him under her hands again. The weekend they spent tangled in each other, now gone behind them, and it didn't do enough to keep her satiated. 
"I was just thinkin' tha's all," Bradley doesn't trust the little ribbon of playfulness laces through her voice, so he presses just a bit further, pressing the pads of his fingers just a bit harder against her scalp. 
"What's on that beautiful brain of yours, huh?" 
"Just thinkin' 'bout how nice it is to be trapped in your car during the storm, tha's all," There is an air of nonimportance to her shrug, like she is trying to devalue her own thoughts because she doesn't like the way they sound coming from her own tongue. 
Bradley's fingertips leave Honey's scalp for just a moment, and she fights not to follow them. The laugh that wracks through Bradley surprises her, but she loves the smile that spreads across his face and the way his cheeks flush. It looks like raspberries have been smushed into his cheeks, and Honey can't help the way she stares. 
"Did I say something funny?" Honey keeps her tone so sweet. Bradley melts just a little further. He presses the pads of his fingers back onto her skin and Honey lets the warmth spread through her from his touch. 
"Yeah, you did, Sweet Girl. This isn't just any car we are sitting in, it's a Bronco," He explains, bringing his other hand up to wander over her exposed upper arm. Bradley's tone is far from condescending, and now he has Honey under both of his hands. She fights off the shiver threatening to break over her body, crest over the skin like the ocean does that sand. Bradley swears he can feel the electricity flowing under her skin, but maybe that's just his own heartbeat pulsing through the tips of his fingers. 
Then, Bradley takes one hand away from Honey, though it almost physically hurts him to pull his fingers away from the softness of her skin, but he needs her closer. Pulling the handle below his seat, Bradley uses both feet to slide the driver's seat back as far as it can go. It click, click, clicks all the way back and Bradley loses touch of Honey for a second. Then, he is leaning forward, reaching across the center console to pull her straight into his lap. 
The little squeak that escapes Honey is short lived as she settles hard down onto Bradley's strong, wide thighs. She cages them in with her own, her skin pressed up against the cold leather interior of the door and console. Bradley's hands are flashing over her skin, warming her up with the heat of his palms. Then, his hands wind into her hair, sliding up the back of her neck before the tendrils laces through his outstretched digits. A small moan passes Honey's lips as she takes in the depth of his touch, all fever and passion, almost a new, blooming sort of love. 
Their breath mingles together in the small space between them, the tip of Honey's nose all but grazing Bradley's. They are so close, lips just brushes each others, exchanging the same deep breath of air as eyes search faces. The tip of Bradley's tongue skims over the fullness of Honey's low lip and she chases the feeling as he pulls back. The headrest stops Bradley's movements, and Honey's lips meet his just a touch too hard, a carom of a kiss, but Bradley is quickly pulling her back into him, hands in her hair as she messes with the top few buttons of his shirt. 
It's all hot kisses and buttons slipping through fabric, palms to marred skin exploring the imperfect nature of it all. Bradley pulls the leaver on the side of his seat, reclining them backwards, further away from the wheel. The pair are as horizontal as they can get, but Bradley wants more. His hands come up to her ribcage in an attempt to lean her, to guide her to change places. He wants her underneath his own body so he can explore her chest with his tongue. 
Honey is jostled form her perch on top of Bradley, and in a second, she is falling through the door, her hand having caught the handle in an attempt to steady herself in their fruitless effort to switch positions.  Suddenly the rain is now coming in, and Honey is falling out. Bradley isn't quite fast enough, only managing to soften her fall as her ass makes contact with the muddy, sandy, very wet ground. 
The curse is almost off Bradley's tongue as Honey's laughter erupts throughout the air, in harmony with the thunder above. It cracks throughout the sky, shaking the Bronco as the rain slicks down Honey's hair against her skin. Bradley leans out of the cab to look at Honey, his own hair catching it's fair share of the rainfall. The smile spread across her lips is undeniable, and he will look back on this moment and know that this is the exact moment he fell for her. This is exactly what happy looks like, and he yearns for a way to stop this moment just so he can look at her for a little while longer, skin slick with rainfall, her clothes now absolutely soaked through. 
There will be a bruises tomorrow, Honey is sure of it, from sickly yellow to deep purple. She really couldn't care less. Her shorts will be caked with mud from now on, and the t-shirt she is in sticks to her body in a way that feels like she may never get it off, but the whole damn situation is so funny and she can't help but laugh at the ridiculousness of it. Bradley is half way out of the door now, reaching for her, wanting to pull her up to her feet and back into the relative safety of the Bronco. They clasp hands, mud from Honey's squelching between their fingers. Bradley braces himself to pull her up, but instead, he slips on the wet metal of the door jamb, and Honey just tugs him the rest of the way out into the wet. 
It's Bradley's turn to laugh now, most of his large body's fall broken by the lovely woman who is now absolutely soaked to the bone. He should apologize, really he should, but she was the one who pulled him out of the Bronco, and she is already laughing from beneath him. 
Their lips meet again, somewhere between the laughter and the muddy touches. There are handprints, some smudged, some clear, decorating each other like maps. They trail over their bodies, a detective could read the desperation in their marks. 
The door above them remains open above them, doing nothing to shield them from the rain as they make love for the first time, down in the muddy ditch on the side of the empty highway. There should be no romance there, but from their desperate hands come gentle touches and their hot mouths birth deep kisses that make the world around them spin, each to dizzy drunk on each other to notice the rain begin to let up. 
Bradley climbs into the Bronco, his white t-shirt speckled see through with rain. The cloud are open and rain falls from them so thick he wants nothing more than to stand up the welcome back party at the Hard Deck. After the way he watched Honey walk away and the fact that he knew he'd be seeing Maverick again after their most recent falling out, the rain seems like a good enough reason to stay in. A call from Phoenix changed his mind, at least partially. 
The Bronco pulls into the hard deck in record time, the rain barely slowing him down. He catches sight of Bob's truck parked near the door and he realizes just how good it will be to see the old team again, to drink at the Hard Deck just like they used to. He can see Penny again, and drink one of her off the menu cocktails and maybe flirt with a bartender if he can find it in himself to do so. 
Bradley unclicks his seatbelt, hand on the doorhandle; he looks down to see the rain markings on the inside of the door, stained into the leather from the last time he saw a storm quite this bad. Bradley thinks of Honey and the way she laughed, the way she looked covered in mud, underneath him, skin warm to the touch even with the chilled rain running over him both. 
That's what happy looks like, Bradley knows that for sure. But, now, Honey is a two-thousand miles and one slammed door away, and Bradley feels like a goddamn broken man. He pushes open the door and lets the rain come in, feeling it on his skin. It's cold and it trails wet lines down his exposed skin. He feels the way his clothes begin to stick to his skin. He swears that he could still feel the way her muddy hands wound around him, pulling him closer. 
Bradley dares to let himself think of her, think of what happy looks like. The rain has never felt so fucking cold. 
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ddejavvu · 11 months
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Bradley is the type of lover that will always have a hand around you he wants almost more reassurances that you are near that no one is taking you away and some days you wonder if his hand falls asleep on your thigh
send me your headcanons!
--
aw omg :(( honestly it probably comes from being away from you so often, he's definitely come to realize that life is a gift and not something to be taken for granted so whenever you're around and he's not on the other side of the world or something he's definitely latching onto you!!
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7seas-of-ryy · 2 years
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Sunshine Part 2
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Author’s Note: I wasn’t planning on doing a part 2 for this but someone had commented about it and it gave me this idea! So here it is!! Also I worship this picture ;)
Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Reader
Summary: You meet Rooster’s friends! Basically a lot of fluff
Warning: Hints of social anxiety
Part 1 
...
You and Rooster had hung out every time you were both free since that day. He takes you out on dates and you both love laying at home watching movies and doing pretty much anything together. He eventually asked you to be his girl officially and you, of course said yes. It was perfect. Perfect with just the two of you. 
“So how about tonight? Everyone’s getting together for drinks at the bar, it would be perfect. What do ya say, Sunshine?” Rooster said as you two were cuddling on the couch.
He’s been trying to get you to come out and hang out with his group of friends. You already knew them all from serving them at the bar but you had never been properly introduced. Rooster knew you were shy so every time you came up with an excuse to not go, he didn’t push it.
You knew it wasn’t fair to him. But the idea of going out with a group of people you didn’t really know and having nothing to distract you (like serving drinks at the bar) was terrifying. What if you said something stupid and embarrassed Rooster? You were never good at small talk. But you couldn’t put it off forever.
“I guess that would be ok” you mumbled to him.
“For real?? Like you’ll actually go tonight?! Sunshine you have no idea how happy you make me” Rooster basically sang while he got up and started dancing around.
You laughed and watched him celebrate. He pulled you up from the couch and made you dance with him. You don’t know how long you danced for but it felt like forever. Everything was so easy with Rooster. He treated you better than anyone’s ever treated you before.
“Ok... I guess I gotta go get ready” You spoke softly with a small smile
“Damn right you do, gotta show everyone tonight how hot my girl is” Bradley flirted with you. He still made you blush uncontrollably. You started to walk to your room and he squeezed your butt and shamelessly watched as you walked away. This man was going to be the death of you.
You got to your room and started to panic a bit. You had no idea what to wear. You didn’t want to dress too casual but you didn’t wanna look too dressed up either. You hated that you were like this.
You decided to start with makeup. You just did simple stuff as a confidence boost. Then you did your hair the way you like. You started to feel a bit better but you still had to find an outfit. You decided on a nice sundress and some slip on shoes. You had never worn this dress before but it felt right for this event.
You looked yourself over in the mirror one last time before heading out to Rooster. He looked over at you and his jaw dropped. 
“Wow- you look- I mean- you’re just- wow” Rooster stuttered. You have never made this man stutter before. You realized why he liked to make you so flustered now, it made you confident to make him trip over his words.
You guys headed to the bar, Rooster never taking his eyes off of you. He immediately wrapped his arm around your waste. He was being extra touchy tonight. You see the group suddenly get very nervous. You stop walking and Rooster looks at you.
“What’s wrong Sunshine, they’re over here” He spoke in your ear so only you could hear. He must’ve realized why you stopped walking because he stood in front of you to block you out of anyone’s view.
“Hey, it’s ok, we don’t have to stay the whole night, we can even turn around and walk out right now if you want to” He whispered with his arms around me.
“No, I’ll be ok, I just got nervous for a second. I can do this” You got as much courage as you could and started walking with Rooster over to the group.
“Hello gorgeous” Hangman immediately spoke.
“Back off man” Rooster held you protectively.
Phoenix came over to introduce herself and save you from that awkward moment.
“Rooster has told us all about you, he’s definitely in love with you. I was beginning to think you were a literal angel with how he talks about you.” She said “I also thought your name was actually Sunshine. He only ever calls you that” She laughed
“Your name’s y/n right?” A shy man in the corner asked. You were guessing that was Bob from the stories you’ve heard.
“Yes it is, you can call me that or Sunshine because at this point I respond to both” You joked with them, already feeling at ease.
“Well, let’s get some drinks” Hangman said and everyone cheered in reply. 
You looked over noticing Bradley already staring back at you. He kissed your hairline and pulled you in by your waste. They started playing pool and eventually Rooster joined them so you sat off to the side next to Bob.
“Are they always this competitive?” you asked the quiet man next to you.
“Yeah, sometimes it’s funny like tonight but other times it causes us to suffer. One time there was a bet with Mav that basically ended with all of us doing 200 push ups” He said with a small smile.
“That sounds horrible!” You started laughing and he joined you
You looked up and see Rooster watching the two of you. He goes back to playing pool so you take advantage and admire his body while he does.
Eventually everyone gets tired and heads out. Rooster was driving the both of you home and was being very quiet.
“Is everything ok?” You ask and he just shakes his head yes so you both sit in silence for the rest of the way home. Once you’re both back at the apartment, you guys start getting ready for bed.
“So Bob seemed to be pretty talkative with you tonight” Rooster stated casually. 
“Yeah he was nice, I wouldn’t say he was talkative but he did tell me a funny story about you guys and push ups” You started laughing thinking about it again.
“Oh so he’s funny huh?” Rooster said, looking at you.
Then it clicked. He was jealous...of Bob. You started to laugh and he looked like his eyes were gonna bulge out of his head so you laughed even harder.
“Honey, are you jealous of Bob?” You said through your giggles
“I don’t know...maybe... ok yes I am” He admitted. You walked over to him wrapping your arms around him
“There’s nothing to be jealous of, he didn’t make a move on me or something, he just told me a story about all of you!” You found it adorable that this man was jealous.
“But you were laughing so hard” Rooster pouted 
“Because it was funny! Why is that bad?!” You laughed a bit
“Because you’re my sunshine! I wanna make you laugh that hard” He looked like a kicked puppy and you thought you were gonna combust with how cute he was.
“You do make me laugh that hard! And you make me feel so happy! You make me feel so many amazing things!” You said trying to make him feel better
“I do make you feel pretty good in bed, huh” Bradley pulled you in even closer as he spoke. You hid your face in his chest at that comment, getting embarrassed. 
“Shut up” You mumbled and laughed at the same time. 
“I’m sorry I got jealous, I’ve just had you all to myself this whole time and now I’m sharing you. I think tonight was harder for me than it was for you!” He looked right in your eyes as you spoke and leaned in.
“And you looked really really good in that dress tonight” He whispered against your lips.
You let out a breath of anticipation right before he kissed you. He kissed you long and slow, only pulling away when you both needed air.
“I love you so much Rooster” You spoke softly
“I love you too Sunshine” He replied.
...
Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist :)
Taglist: @hotch-meeeeeuppppp​ @datingbtr​
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currentlybradshaw · 2 years
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read to me? | b.b.
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pairing: bradley "rooster" bradshaw x reader (husband!rooster if you squint)
description: in which a sleepy bradley comes home from work and needs comforting
warnings: none. just tons of soft and fluffy vibes here!
word count: 800+
Rooster came home from work to find you curled up in your shared bed. You were pressed in between the pillows, wrapped in your favorite fluffy blanket, with eyes glued to the pages of the book you were reading. The lamp on your nightstand cast a warm glow across the room, and the smell of a burning candle filled his nose. He rested his weary body against the door frame for a moment watching you with heavy eyes. Today’s training was incredibly challenging, to say the least, and the only thing he wanted to do was unwind with you for the rest of the night.
You glanced over the top of your book, taking a moment to look him over before asking how his day was. He didn't give a verbal answer, only a slight shrug in response, his body language answering your question. He stays silent for a moment, continuing to gaze at you before he asks if you will read to him. “Of course, Roos, come ‘ere,” you threw your blanket open and waited for him to join you. Rooster wasn’t much of a reader as he didn’t have the time for it, but he loved it when you read to him; the sound of your gentle voice narrating through the pages always put him at ease.
After changing into some sweatpants, he crawled in next to you, nuzzling the side of his face against your chest while wrapping those big arms of his around your middle. You smile to yourself, amused at his actions. He always got a little more cuddly when he was sleepy, and by a little, you meant a lot. Nothing in the world was strong enough to pry him off you when he was in this state.
When he finally stopped squirming and found a comfortable position, you brought one hand in front of you to hold your book in place. Your other tangled in his hair, lightly massaging through his messy curls. Almost instantly, you felt his body relaxing under your touch.
You had only been reading for about fifteen minutes before you heard soft snores falling from his lips. You placed a soft kiss on the top of his hair before deciding to close your book so you could place it on your nightstand. Trying your best not to wake your sleeping husband, you slowly started to lean over towards the side of the bed.
The book was almost on the table when you felt his grip around your waist tighten. “Where are you going?” he whined, tired eyes looking up at you with his chin propped on your chest. Turning back to him, you said, “Just putting my book up, baby. Do you wanna get ready for bed so you can go back to sleep?” He nodded in response, slowly pulling himself off of you to stand.
He was on your heels as he followed you to the bathroom so you could do your nightly routines. After you both had finished, you changed into your pajamas before moving the bed pillows around and pulling back the duvet so you could slip under the cool sheets with him.
Rooster’s arms automatically found their way around you again; he was sticking to you like a magnet tonight. You turned so you could face him, cupping his cheek with your hand before trailing your fingers against the side of his face and down his neck, tracing along the scars you admired so much.
It didn’t take long for his eyes to start fluttering shut again. Leaning up, you peppered a few light kisses around his face. He reached to grab your hand, intertwining your fingers with his before his lips found yours. The kiss was tender and full of love, almost like he was trying to convey his admiration for you through it.
After pulling away, he rested his forehead against yours. “Thank you for reading to me and letting me use you as my personal pillow. But most of all, for being the person I can count on, nothing feels better than getting to come home to you–knowing you're here waiting on me,” he whispered out.
A growing smile found its way onto your face. He never failed to make you feel loved and cherished–because you were one of the few things that genuinely mattered in his life. You wouldn’t ever be able to thank him for all he did for you, but you hoped you could at least try to return the favor when he would let you. He always aimed to please you first.
“You don’t have to thank me, Bradley. I'll always be here to take care of you; my services are all yours. I love you," you beamed even though he couldn't see you in the darkness. “I love you even more, honey.” Before you two could playfully argue over who loved who the most, faint snores were falling from his lips once again.
AN: i can't believe i just posted my first fanfic ever, kinda wild. but if you made it this far, i just want to say a huge thank you and i'm sending you all my love! likes, comments, reblogs are always appreciated 🤍
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gxdsfavgal · 2 years
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Rear View Mirror
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Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x fem!pilot reader
Warnings: 18+, call sign is “Ghost”, flirting, praise, piv sex, choking, fingers in mouth, authority kink, not drunk fucking just a lil drinking
Summary: basically… you’re called back to Top Gun, you go to the Hard Deck and see old friends, you see Roos, you have some fun with your old bestie! ;)
A/N: i love this plot so I think i’m gonna do one for Hangman and Bob! Also, in all of my Top Gun content, readers call sign will always be Ghost
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I don’t know how long it’s been since my last time at the Hard Deck, but here I am dressed in the skin tight khaki uniform. My last name stitched onto a patch along with other Navy and Top Gun patches.
I took a deep breath of the salty hot air as I opened the door to the bar. The air was even hotter in the Hard Deck due to all the bodies crammed into the small bar.
My eyes looked side to side, trying to find at least one person that I knew. That was until my eyes locked on the familiar dark brown slick bun and a tall-cocky-blond.
“Phoenix!” I practically screamed when I saw her playing billiards.
Before she took a shot at the ball she scanned the room and found my eyes. We ran up to each other and jumped like little girls.
“This is a sight to see” Hangman smirked at he leaned against the table.
“It’s nice to see you too Jake!” I playfully rolled my eyes before I opened my arms to pull him into a hug.
I quickly said my hellos to everyone and gave quick introductions before I went to Penny to order myself a drink.
“Where’s your best friend?” Penny asked as she was fixing up my drink.
My eyebrows furrowed until I was able to comprehend it.
“I don’t know where Roos is. Hell, he might be across the world right now!” we both chuckled.
I thanked Penny and went back to the group who was talking to Bob, something about his boring call sign. We all were talking about what his callsign meant, Bob and I more into it than the others since I was one of the pilots who gave him the name of Baby On Board.
Phoenix, Hangman, and the others go silent, pausing the conversation with Bob. Bob and I look at each other confused until we follow their eyes to the man that just arrived.
I quickly hand my drink to Bob and fast walk to the man at the entrance.
“Here we go.” I hear Hangman mumble behind me but I ignore it.
“Bradley Fucking Bradshaw always making a grand entrance!” I weaved through the sweaty bodies.
“You know I had to” he rolled his eyes behind his aviators. “Come here Ghost!”
His arms gripped my waist, hugging me and pulling me off of the floor. My arms tight around his neck, my fingers toying around with the collar of his Hawaiian shirt.
“Missed you Roos!” I mumbled into his neck as I took in the familiar scent.
He put me down and dusted my shoulders to make me look pristine again.
“It’s not nice to lie Ghost.” he playfully said.
“C’mon let’s bring you to the gang!” I grabbed his hand and pulled him through the crowd, he gave waves and smiles to other familiar faces.
After I bring him to the team, Roos catches up with everyone and slides in some bickering with Jake just like how it was a few years ago.
I quietly sneak off to get Roos a beer from Penny, taking my time since I know she is going to be asking questions or making assumptions.
“You know he’s happier when he’s with you.” the blonde said as she was shaking a drink.
“No, he’s happy whenever he is in the air.” I smiled as I sipped my drink.
Bradshaw has been my best friend ever since we met each other at the Naval Academy a few years back. I knew that Maverick pulled his papers and how he holds him accountable for Goose’s death.
I’ve always thought Roos was an amazing person, I’d be lying if I said that I never imagined a future with him. He’s my best friend though, gotta keep it that way.
I was pulled out of my thoughts when I hear the sound of slightly out of tune piano keys, everyone beginning to crowd the old rustic piano.
Penny slides me Roos’s beer and I make my way to the piano, pushing through to see that the one and only Bradley is doing his little performance.
“You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain!”
I stood behind Phoenix with my free hand on her shoulder as we all start to sing along.
“Too much loves drives a man insane!”
Roosters eyes met mine, his hands never failing on the ivory keys. His head motions for me to sit on the bench with him. Phoenix lightly pushed me into the circle, and I playfully flipped her the bird.
I put his beer on the top of the piano and took a seat on the rickety bench next to Rooster. His body moving along the piano made the bench unstable, the wooden legs ready to unscrew from the movement.
“You broke my will, but what a thrill!” he sang out, his head tilting back.
The sun beamed perfectly on him though the window, the sweaty glow on his face and chest made him look godly.
He quickly took his hands off of the keys and cupped my face. “Goodness, gracious, great balls of fire!”
He went back to playing and singing his heart out for the crowd. All of us Navy’s and military were singing along with him. I was distracted by how fast his fingers were playing and how his sweat traces down his veins on his neck.
This man was a beauty and he knows it. I’m pretty sure he saw me admiring him the whole song.
Just like that, the song was done. The crowd cheered for him, patting him on the back and girls swooning.
He turned his body towards mine, our knees touching. I about to overheat in my uniform.
“Did you like it?” he asked, extending his swole arm to grab the beer I’ve gotten for him.
“Hmm. I think you were a little pitchy.” I sarcastically shrugged my shoulders.
“C’mon you love it when I sing to you.” he put his arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer to him to the point where he rests his head on top of mine.
“Maybe you’re thinking about some other Navy gal.”
He pulls his head off of mine and brought his lips to my ear.
“I only think about you.” his voice went an octave lower before leaving a peck behind my ear, his mustache tickling me.
I was used to this, we always talked to each other like this. Always little flirty remarks like we were teens. It made me blush, he made me feel like I was a high school girl sneaking out with one of the bad boys.
“Sure you do Roos.” I sent him a wink before I stood up off the bench, leaving him to use the bathroom.
When I was leaving out the bathroom, Roos snuck up behind me. He looped his fingers around the belt loop on the small of my back as we walked back to the crowded bar.
It was always the little gestures that he did, that got me the most.
I saw that Bob was now playing pool with FanBoy so I led us there. Roos sat down on a wooden stool and pulled me by my belt loops between his widened legs.
His arm wrapped over my collarbones and his hand resting on my shoulder, while he tips his beer back in his other hand. I can feel his chest rise and fall against my back.
Phoenix came up to us with a surprised look on her face. “Did you guys know that Bob was in the same TopGun class with us the whole time?”
The others were agreeing with the question she had just asked.
“Yeah I know Robert.” I said as I sent him a wave before he hit his ball.
Everyone was dumbfounded.
I felt Rooster’s chest vibrate from his chuckle.
“Hey. How about we go on a drive?” he whispered into my ear.
“What car did you bring?” I asked with a smile that he couldn't see.
“You know, just that lovely blue Ford Bronco that you love so much.” his voice was deep, trying to keep quiet so none of the others can hear.
I turn my head to face him, smile wide on my face.
“You know I love rides in the Bronco!” I leaned off of him and grabbed his hand, pulling him out of the bar.
The cool salty air hitting my face was refreshing after being in tight and sweaty Navy uniforms.
Once we reached his blue Bronco, I leaned against the rear looking up at Rooster with heavy eyelids as he smiled down at me.
“You drive since you only had half a beer!” I pushed his chest, running to the passenger side.
I heard him sigh in sarcasm knowing that he would never let me drive his car, it was like one of his most prized possessions. I swung my legs up and sat in the leather passengers seat.
My fingers traces around the modern interior that matched perfectly with the vintage exterior. The cream leather seats were warm from the setting sun.
“Where to Ghost?” he closed the door and started the engine, also checking to make sure my seat belt is on.
“Depends on how much gas you got.” I joked, leaning my seat back just slightly and taking off my shoes so I can rest them on my seat.
“Anywhere it is.” he started exiting the parking lot, turning on some music and rolling down the windows.
The sunset was absolutely gorgeous on the horizon of the water.
I turned my body to look at Roos who kept his eyes on the road and his fingers drummed against the steering wheel.
“What you staring at?” he asked, giving me a quick look.
“Just admiring.” my chin rested on my hand on top of the center console.
I can feel that the few drinks I had were getting too me, I can definitely feel the confidence that it usually gave me.
“What you admiring?” he asked, his signature smirk was plastered on his face.
“Your hair and how I want it between my fingers, your lips and how soft they would be against mine.”
“Oh yeah?” he shifted in his seat, his shorts getting uncomfortably tight for him.
“Yeah and your lap, and how I wanna get off on it. Your fingers and how I want them in my mouth.” 
Damn, alcohol can really get to you.
“Get in the back.” I didn't even notice that he parked. We were in a secluded area off the road that looked over the beach.
I nodded at him, unbuckling my seat belt and eagerly crawling over the center console to the back seats.
He was still in the drivers seat, adjusting the rear view mirror to see me.
“Take off everything but your panties and tank top.” he demanded.
I listened and stripped down to my tank top and underwear, throwing my clothes to the front passenger seat.
He got out of the drivers seat and opened the back door to me, getting in with me.
“Look at you, listening so well.” he chuckled, his callused hand rubbing against my ass, giving squeezes here and there.
“Yes Lieutenant.” he groaned at the ranking.
He grabbed my hips, lifting me up and sliding his body under mine. The middle seat gave us the perfect view of the scenery. His large hands pushed down the top of my back, my chest against the center console and my ass up in the air.
I can hear the clanking of his belt and his fingers struggling to pull down his shorts and boxers. I peek under my chest, getting a few of Roos fisting his cock. 
It was thick, veins all over, and it was eager. The head was almost purple and it stood tall and proud. His groans were pornographic.
His free hand traced up my inner thigh and to my clothed entrance. His finger rubbed against the slick of my lace.
“Who got you this wet?” his voice was low and his eyes trained on his fingers playing with the juices soaking through.
“You did Lieutenant.” my moans were quiet.
“Are you good with this Ghost?” he was talking regular now, making sure that I had a choice to back out if I wanted.
“Im sure Roos.” I reached my arm back, rubbing at his knee to assure him.
He wrapped his arm around my collarbones, pulling me up against his chest. “Good.” Our eyes met in the rear view mirror, his lips against my neck.
His mustache scratching and tickling my skin, his mouth nipping at my skin and littering it with marks.
The tip of his cock rubbed over my slit, nudging against my opening. He pulled me down against him, his cock slowly filling me as I sat on his lap.
“Fuck, it’s like you’re made for my cock. Such a snug fit.” he groaned out, my body still adjusting to his thick size.
I circled my hips, begging for him to move. He got the hint and began to thrust from under me, pushing me up then pulling me down on his dick. We were in sync.
Our moans filling up the car.
My ass bounced on him, rippling with every time I was pulled down to meet his skin. His eyes trained on his cock disappearing inside of me and the string of juices.
“Cmon Lieutenant. Fuck me rough.” I rasped out, my throat raw from all of the moaning.
He bent me over the trucks center console, his fingers making their way into my mouth, and his eyes trained on mine through the rear view mirror. His lower lip trapped between his teeth as he focused on the feeling.
“Right there!” I mumbled out through his fingers. My saliva spilling out of my mouth, onto my chin and down his wrist.
His hips were snapping roughly into me, the sound of skin slapping. His cock me raw from the dragging inside me.
“Look at you. Got my fingers all soaked and my cock too.” he smirked at me through the mirror, my mouth lips plump and eyes teary.
He took his fingers out of my mouth, bringing them down to my clit. My saliva mixing with my slick as he rubbed on my puffy sensitive nerves.
“Fuck fuck fuck.” I wailed, the tears running down my cheeks and staining them. My legs closing from the intensity.
I clenched down on him, my orgasm so close. 
“Almost there. A-almost.” his voice stuttered and so did his thrusts.
With a few more snaps, my vision went white and my moans were loud. My legs and body shaking from release and adrenaline. His groans were deep, being vocal in my ear.
“Good girl.” he groaned out in pleasure, pulling out of me.
I whined at the empty feeling, his cum spilling out of my abused hole. His hand rubbing at my back, trying to get me to calm down.
“Fuck Roos.” I panted, my slick back bun now messy and drenched in sweat.
“Let’s go back to my house and get you all freshened up.” he hummed, using his shirt to wipe up our mess.
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bradshawsbitch · 1 year
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white christmas | bradley bradshaw x f!reader
this is my contribution to @notroosterbradshaw 's #hello december playlist challenge! my song was 'white christmas' by bing crosby - so feel free to listen to that to get in the mood!
what to expect in this fic: Bradley couldn't remember the last time he hadn't spent Christmas on some type of naval base. After all, he figured it would be better to work through the holiday than sit all on his lonesome. Lucky for him, his girlfriend of two years has other plans this Christmas. You can expect northern lights, snow lanterns, a little good ol' whimsical fun in the Swedish wilderness!
warnings: afab!reader, she/her pronouns, christmas content, santa clause, reindeers, foreign countries (if you're not swedish), mentions of ditching a plane, mentions of security measures on planes (listen, I couldn't help myself. I used to be a flight attendant), mentions of alcohol, l-bombs, random information about swedish christmas tradition, fluff, whimsical stuff.
disclaimer: this was such a fun challenge! and I went a little self indulgent and figured I'd teach y'all some swedish christmas fun! I added some links along the way to help visualize some Swedish stuff that people perhaps have not encountered before. enjoy!
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Bradley was sat by the window seat of the Airbus A330 from Chicago. Glancing over to his side, your head had already settled on his soft, hoodie-clad shoulder. During your previous flight from LAX (in a smaller Boeing 737-900), you’d been granted the window seat. On this longer flight though, Bradley had offered to sit by the emergency exit over the wing.
The flight attendant had looked so relieved it was almost comical. They were always surveying their passengers, and he was grateful that they took the extra step to make sure able bodied and stronger looking people were sat at the emergency exits should they need to evacuate. 
His girlfriend had given him a small smirk as he’d sat down at the emergency exit seat, and he could tell she was about to tease him light-heartedly. “Oh, I’m a pilot,” you’d giggled, soothing your words with a soft kiss to his shoulder. Bradley had only offered you a smile back, and as he felt the aircraft vibrate for takeoff, he’d smirked and decided to annoy you further, leaning over, letting his lips ghost by your ear as he murmured:
“V1,” as the aircraft hurtled by the last safe speed for which the runway would allow it to stop in case of engine failure or error
“Rotate,” he continued, right as the nose rotated and started it’s ascent, mimicking the words currently spoken in the cockpit by the first and second pilot. He’d snickered as you rolled your eyes, muttering “Show-off,” before turning to read your book. That had been at the beginning of your twelve hour flight, which was now soon coming to its’ close - with you snoozing softly on his shoulder.
He glanced over to the other emergency exit across from him, where a woman in her late 40’s sat with a crossword. Bradley had heard her tell the attendants that she too worked as a crew member, and was very familiar with the procedure should they need to make an emergency landing, or ditch.
Just the thought of ditching this enormous plane made him shudder. He was quite glad that he’d never attempt it in his jets. More often than not, even with a bigger, slower flying aircraft, landing on water was tricky. If the water was rough, a bigger aircraft like this sometimes broke off in the middle. It wasn’t impossible though, and he spent a good 5 minutes thinking of successful ditchings before kissing the top of your head, inhaling the sweet scent - one that instantly brought him peace and comfort. The rest of your flight to Stockholm Arlanda airport was uneventful, some turbulence here and there but it was to be expected.
As Bradley took in the sight of you snoozing on his shoulder, he couldn’t help but smile. Bradley hadn’t asked for leave from work over the holidays since he’d joined the Navy. There was never a reason for him to be home over Christmas, and most years he’d actually ask if there was any available work for him, just so that he’d have something to do on what most would consider one of the more cheerful days of the year. The exception had been last holiday, when you’d asked him if he wanted to come around for dinner with your parents to celebrate Christmas; the year before that your relationship had been relatively new, and you’d exchanged gifts on the 26th instead. 
So, last New Years, after a few too many drinks - Bradley had confided in you his secret of having worked during the holidays since his early twenties - and that he’d often been stationed somewhere there really wasn’t any snow, and how he really wished for one of those White Christmases that you saw on TV. Bradley would be the first to admit he got sappy when drunk, but your response had been so sweet - promising him a white Christmas next year, and he was almost sure he heard you swear that he’d never have to spend Christmas alone again.
And so, a few days into the new year, the two of you had begun to plan the journey you were currently on. A journey that would take you deep into the Swedish snow, up in the north where a small village called Jukkasjärvi lay. You’d decided upon it together, both agreeing that staying a night in the iconic ice hotel was a sure thing for the Christmas bucket list.
Bradley knew his girlfriend had spent the entire year researching everything Christmas-related in Sweden, and he also knew she was dying to tell him every single thing she’d found. The two of them had scoured the internet for fun things to try whilst in Sweden, and they’d narrowed it down to a list they figured they would manage during their two week stay. 
The first week was for exploring, experiencing their bucket list, and lastly, Christmas. The second week would be for lounging, relaxing and just generally enjoying each other’s company in the wooden cabin they had booked for themselves for the second week. Bradley had insisted on one of the cabins that had a sauna, because he desperately felt he’d need one in the cold climate.
You had teased him, asking him if he knew that it was tradition in the northern countries to sauna in the nude, and then roll in the snow in between sessions. He told you promptly that he did not know that. It sounded almost like a torture tactic. After he’d told you so, you’d forgone telling him about the use of smaller tree branches as whisks to whip against your back. He wasn’t ready for that information yet, you’d decided.
As you successfully landed at Arlanda airport, the two of you sleepily made your way underground for the next part of your travel itinerary. You’d decided that you might as well take the night train to Jukkasjärvi as soon as you’d landed, and you’d only have to switch to a bus when you made it to Kiruna, a town that lay only 30 minutes away from your final destination.
Getting comfortable in the bunk bed you’d booked, Bradley smiled as you snuggled up against his chest and fell fast asleep. Bradley, however, found himself too excited to let sleep grasp at his consciousness just now. He was spellbound as his eyes gazed out at the gray night sky, already seeing thick snowflakes falling around the moving train. But soon, the warmth of your body, the gentle rocking of the train, and the flurry of snow outside the window of the compartment had him lulled to sleep. 
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Bradley was fucking freezing. Of course, he had anticipated that the Northernmost cities or villages of Sweden would be cold, but this was beyond anything he’d ever experienced. He was surprised to find he liked it. It kept his head surprisingly clear as he inhaled the icy air.
He was suddenly glad the two of you had researched extensively what type of gear you’d need to sleep in a hotel made of snow and ice, because his wool thermal underwear, his fleece midlayer, his balaclava, warm hat and mittens kept his body sufficiently warm in the coveralls the ice hotel had provided you. 
He snuck a peek at you, where you stood, enraptured by the guide that had welcomed you. The guide had first informed you that the temperature was about -15 degrees celsius, which meant that it was roughly 5 degrees fahrenheit. The guide then started telling you about the Polar nights, or as they called it, mid winter nights “Oh my god, Bradley that sounds magical” you whispered to him, your voice laced with an endearing amount of excitement.
He smiled down at you and squeezed you close to his side to show he was excited too. The polar nights were a period of time in Lapland where the sun never dared to show itself, the guide expressed, and the only light they got were two hours near noon that they called “blue hours”, when the night sky turned a little lighter blue, and the white snow reflected that soft light to make it illuminate the nature just a little bit. Your eyes were twinkling excitedly, and Bradley thought he might not have seen anything more beautiful in his life. 
You were looking up at him, giggling softly as the hot breath made wisps of smoke appear in the cold air. “You have ice in your mustache, Roos,” you murmured, in awe of the fact that almost every single individual hair of his mustache had ice crystals on them, on the bottom from the moisture of his lips, and the top from where he exhaled warm air onto it.
Rooster was pretty sure he could feel the hairs in his nostrils freezing as he inhaled - it was a weird sensation, but something he got used to surprisingly quickly. “Yeah, well your eyelashes are icy too,” he mumbled with a quick smile before nudging your side, to make you turn your attention back to the guide. 
The guide was smiling at the two of you, explaining how the inside of the ice suites were actually about -5 to -7 celsius due to the insulation that the snow and ice provided (Bradley thought that sounded like a contradiction if he ever heard one), which was about 19 degrees fahrenheit.
As the tour ended, the two of you made your way into the hotel. Bradley was blown away at the detail with which the artists had sculpted ice to look like art. He could hardly voice how in awe he was, which caused him to just gape and stare at the interior. You, on the other hand, were ohh-ing and ahh-ing and pulling on his hand to drag him further in to explore the ice bar, and the ice church. The two of you shared a very cold drink in one of the bars icen glasses, giggling and sharing an excited kiss over the first drink of the night. 
“Happy holidays, Bradley” you sighed happily, leaning your body into him. Bradley was used to having you close, so the distance your thick clothing provided had him whining softly at not being able to have you closer to him.
“Happy holidays, my love. This is already above and beyond any of my wildest dreams right now,” Bradley confessed into your beanie clad head, pressing a soft kiss to the fabric, hoping you felt the sentiment of it. It seemed you did, since you offered him a breathtaking smile that had his heart doing double time somewhere under all his layers of clothing. 
“We can’t forget to watch for the northern lights tonight!” you reminded him softly, sipping on your drink. He shook his head, smiling at your eager tone. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world, sweetheart,” he had listened to your calculations, and the general knowledge you’d picked up about the aurora borealis, and he hoped you’d get to experience one tonight. 
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After a chilly night in the ice suite, you spent the rest of the week in your booked warm hotel room, enjoying fancy dinners during the evenings (which, admittedly, didn't always feel like evenings due to the almost constant darkness), treating yourselves to glasses of prosecco and wine. Giggling with each other in the room beforehand as you dressed up fancy. Bradley alternated between slacks and a button-up, and full blown suits. A favorite of yours was his navy blue one, that he wore tonight, on the 22nd of December. 
“Have I told you that you look gorgeous in this?” you said, voice a low murmur as you slung your arm around his neck in the elevator on the way to the dining hall.
“Nope,” Rooster smirked, dropping down to give you a breathtaking kiss “But thank you, sweets. You look real handsome,” he teased, noticing that you referred to him as the endearment he most used for you - ‘gorgeous’, switching up the endearment to the one you most used for him - ‘handsome’. But he’d have likened your look to ‘beautiful’ in all reality, because that’s what he could best describe your deep green attire, hair and makeup all done up and pretty. 
As you sat down to eat, you figured you’d go over the plans you had for the morning. Bradley had been looking forward to this one all year. You’d booked to go sledding, to see the reindeer farm located on the native Swedish land.
Bradley and you had spent countless hours searching for the perfect place to be able to interact with the reindeer, and the perfect opportunity seemed to be close enough, with a museum of the Sàmi customs and cuisine, which gave you a two for one experience - culture and some good old fashioned Christmas experiences. 
“What if we see Santa?” you exclaimed excitedly as you raised your glass to your lips. “Why would you say that?” Rooster furrowed his brows, feeling like he might’ve missed something important here
“Roos, he lives here!” his girlfriend exclaimed, as if mortally wounded that he did not know that Santa Clause resided in Jukkasjärvi. “I thought he lived on the North Pole?” Bradley laughed, and you shook your head vehemently “No, babe. The Swedes insist he lives here, in Lapland. Of course, I saw some forums argue he lives in Finland - but I choose to believe he lives here. Wouldn’t it be great if we saw actual Santa?” 
Bradley could only smile at your satisfied smile over the rim of your champagne glass, a determined twinkle in your eyes. He loved the fact that you were kind of whimsical, trying to make this a real White Christmas for him to remember - and he couldn’t exactly help that it made his heart grow three sizes. 
“And how is it that you know this then?” Rooster inquired, smiling softly as you took a bite of your meal. He had an inkling that you’d gone all in for the research, to surprise him with fun facts during your trip. Your bashful smile confirmed his suspicions. 
“Well, I might have read up on Swedish Christmas traditions - wouldn’t it be fun to follow them? I’ve even booked their Christmas smörgåsbord!” Bradley couldn’t help but throw his head back and laugh at the excited sparkle that hid beneath your lashes, his chest filling with warmth for his girlfriend again. “There’s a Christmas smörgåsbord? Is that tradition?” he inquired curiously.
“Yup! There sure is. They have small sausages, meatballs, of course, and a ham that they eat with sweet mustard - and some weird pickled herring. I’m a bit wary of those, but we have to be brave, Bradley. We have to show the vikings we’re one of them,” your soft giggle mingled with his laughter, as the soft voice of Bing Crosby meandered through the dining hall, singing about White Christmas as the snow fell peacefully outside of the window. 
“Is that on the 25th, then?” you shook your head no, “Swedish folk celebrate Christmas on the 24th. Which makes sense if Santa lives here! He’ll do these countries first, and then come to us. I knew that man couldn’t possibly do the whole world in one day!”
As dessert was served, and your glasses began to empty, the two of you were feeling giggly, sleepy and all around filled with warmth and Christmas cheer. As you stood up after having paid, Rooster wrapped a large arm around your frame, pulling you into his chest to place a lingering kiss on the top of your head. “This was one of the best ideas we’ve ever had, darling,” he murmured, placing a couple of more kisses against your temple as you slowly made your way up to your room.
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Cold, biting air nipped at Roosters cheeks as the sleigh moved forwards in the snow. It was a clear sky today, which heightened the chance to see the auroras considerably, you’d told him happily after the two of you enjoyed a lengthy breakfast together. You’d made Bradley try some Swedish spread called ‘kaviar’ to which he retched for a good three minutes, before he swore revenge upon you, making you giggle as he pretended to glare at you. 
Bells were softly jingling as the large horses trotted along the small streets through the tiny village, headed towards the snow clad boreal forest. Bradley was squinting to see the houses that lined the streets. Some of them had snowmen and women in their front yards, but many of them had weird, cone shaped little snow buildings by the entrance to their homes.
He furrowed his brows, pointing with a mittened hand in the direction of one before he asked out loud “What are those little lit up things? Are those made of snow?” he watched as you turned your head to inspect them too, before the driver of the carriage half turned and smiled. 
“Those are snow lanterns,” he spoke, before gently saying something in Swedish to one of the horses to calm it before continuing “they’re made out of snow. Mostly children will make them by making snowballs, and arranging them in a cone shape. Their parents will then put a candle in the cone as the dark falls, and it works as a pretty lantern the children can watch from their windows before they go to sleep. Some parents tell their children that’s how Santa will find their houses.”
Bradley thought to himself that if he ever had any children, he’d make snow lanterns with them to make sure Santa and his reindeers found his house. The smallest stitch of sorrow settled deep within his chest, before he caught sight of your face - looking as enamored as he was by the idea of snow lanterns. 
“Maybe we could make one later?” Bradley told you softly, smiling down at your bundled up form. “Sadly, the snow is too dry to form anything. They must’ve made these earlier in the year, when the snow was still wet.” the driver said before turning around completely to steer the horses into a narrow path in the woods. At this, your face lit up, and Rooster could tell that that was something you had read up on.
“Roos, did you know that the native people of Sweden are said to have about one hundred different lexical words for snow? Like the quality of snow matters!” you looked so beautiful like this. The soft light of the day, the crystal white and sparkling snow whirling all around your face, cheeks cold and eyelashes frosted. He had to take a deep breath to settle himself, a lopsided, goofy smile on his face. “Is that so? What type of snow is this then?” 
“Well, seeing as it’s so cold, I’d say this is probably the powdery sort. The kind that when you throw it at someone, it just dusts away in the wind. I would guess that to make snowmen and snow lanterns, you’d need the heavier, wetter kind that falls in the beginning of the season, when it’s not below freezing,” you surmised, and Bradley just chuckled, ruffling your hat on your head “That’s my smart girl!”
As you approached the reindeer farm, Bradley could practically feel you vibrating with excitement beside him, and as the sled came to a stop, Bradley jumped down, offering his mitten clad hands out to you to help you down.
His heart stuttered a bit at the breathtaking smile that had formed on your lips, and he opted to seize you by the waist, lifting you down instead. Your happy peal of laughter as he spun you once, made a large grin appear on his lips as well. “Hi, baby,” he murmured, as your arms snaked around his neck, leaning down to peck his lips lovingly before he let you down. 
The afternoon on the 23rd was spent petting and feeding the reindeer, cooing over how absolutely sweet and adorable they were, eating candied almonds you bought (and learning they were popular here during Christmas), had a glass of mulled wine each with almonds and raisins in it, and learning about native Swedish customs and culture. As the two of you meandered towards the end of the little market they had put up, suddenly Bradley heard his girlfriend suck in a heavy gasp.
“Bradley!” you whisper-screamed, jumping up and down whilst pointing towards the thicker forest a bit away.
There, between the thick cover of pine trees, a soft gold light was moving slowly in the thick snow. Bradley furrowed his brows, staring more intently as he caught a glimmer of red flashing in the soft light.
“Oh my God, Roos!” your voice was borderline hysteric with unbridled, childish excitement, and Bradley himself couldn’t help but feel somewhat the same way as you. There, in the woods, was undoubtedly a man, who was quite large - his thick white beard decidedly not a fake one.
One of the reindeer close to you, heard the ruffle of movement and it snapped its head around to look at the man. It slowly turned and started walking towards the man, and both yours and Bradleys’ jaw dropped as you faintly saw the man chuckling, a small piece of parchment sticking out of one of his deep, worn pockets. 
Bradley hardly wanted to blink, but he had to gauge your reaction - were you seeing this!? Were his eyes deceiving him? But no, as he looked at you, the same stunned, wondrous facial expression was on your face as well. “Baby…” Bradley said incredulously, and when his gaze returned to the spot where he’d seen the man and the reindeer - they were gone.
“Was that…?” Bradley started, and you only nodded mutely, completely flabbergasted at what you’d just witnessed. “I need a moment,” you told your boyfriend and he nodded, only letting one small laugh escape his lips as he shook his head - a new found twinkle shining in his amber eyes as the two of you ordered a cup of hot chocolate, Bradley opting to have the smiling girl clad in a Gákti (a traditional dress for the Sàmi) fill his cup with a minty liquor as well. 
As the two of you sat in the carriage on the way home, silence stretching through the darkness of the night, the moon illuminating the snow enough so that every single detail of the landscape was still dimly visible, you finally spoke.
“That was the real Santa Clause, wasn’t it?” your voice sounded revered, and serious. “I am so fucking sure that that was the real Santa, didn’t you see the reindeer approach him!?” Bradley could barely contain his mirth “Shh, Bradley! No swearing!! He’ll know!” you hissed before triumphantly saying “I told you he lived here!”
“Oh, fuck! Shit, I mean–” he laughed at himself “I won’t swear anymore,” before silence fell between the two of you. However, the night wasn’t completely silent anymore. Aside from the soft noises from the horses, and the bells jingling softly, a peculiar sound met their ears.
The driver smiled softly “I believe we’ll see some northern lights soon,” you gasped softly at the drivers words “Oh my god, I read that some people can hear the auroras,” and as soon as the words were out of your mouth, the sky exploded in shades of green, blue and at some spots violet as well.
The sharp intake of air from you was the only thing filling the night, except for a peculiar crackling sound. It was so overwhelming, seeing the lights dance slowly across the expanse of the night sky. Bradley had never seen anything more beautiful in his entire life, and as the sled slowly came to a stop, he noticed that his tears had already frozen on his cheeks. 
When you’d admired the aurora in awed silence for a few minutes, the driver softly had the horses come to a walk again, sensing that staying still for any longer would have them freeze. However, the lights were still slowly dancing back and forth over the skies, and Bradley was sure he’d have a kink in his neck from the way he couldn’t bear to rip his gaze away from this phenomena.
All at once, Bradley could understand why the Sàmi, and natives in his own home country might believe that a higher being was sending them omens through the lights. They were breathtaking, and if he hadn’t known the science behind the lights - he was pretty sure he too would believe that they were otherworldly. Perhaps he’d choose to believe they were either way. 
The two of you reached your room, drawing a hot bath before peeling your clothes off. When you’d warmed up a little, the two of you chattered excitedly about what you’d experienced that day - arguing over who had been the nicest this year.
“Listen, I am one hundred percent sure Santa saw me give Hangman the last piece of the birthday cake earlier this year!”
“Bradley, that was his birthday cake!” 
“So then it was pretty nice of me to let him have it, right?”
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Waking up on the 24th, Rooster nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling your sweet scent as you slowly came to consciousness. ��Merry Christmas, Roos,” your soft voice had a sleepy hint to it as your fingers carded through his slightly longer locks.
“Merry Christmas, love of my life,” Bradley sighed happily, placing soft kisses to your exposed neck as his arms wound tight around your midsection. The two of you lay wrapped in each others embrace for a big part of the morning, before exchanging a single gift with each other. 
Later that day, you joined the other residents in eating a Christmas smörgåsbord, listening to Christmas songs, and lastly, dancing around the large tree that sat in the lobby. Drinking Christmas ale, mulled wine and sparkling cider. It was the best Christmas Bradley had had for years, and as the jolly type of music wound down to a beautiful Swedish rendition of ‘O Holy Night’ transitioned into ‘White Christmas’, Bradley once again embraced you, swirling you around in a slow dance.
His lips found yours in a kiss that felt as if the northern lights had exploded within the two of you, and were dancing merrily between you.
“Thank you,” Bradley murmured against your lips “for giving me the best Christmas of my life,” he continued, pulling back to admire your beautiful, twinkling eyes.
“Thank you, Bradley,” you replied softly, squeezing his hand before resting your cheek on his sweater clad chest, swaying softly to the tune of the beautiful song that rang out in the winter night.
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a/n: ahhh!!! I hope you guys liked this one! I added links to give a visual to things that not everyone knows of or has seen before. I hope it wasn't distracting! Please let me know what you thought of this whimsical little fun fic! <3 lots of love to those who don't celebrate christmas, or have a hard time with christmas as well - I love you so much<3
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spideystevie · 1 year
Note
allie this is the cutest house party i've ever been to ugh i LOVE IT!!! may i please request falling asleep on the couch together (and being very flustered at their positions in the morning) from list four with rooster? thank u thank u ily <33
my sweet kait!! this was SO rooster and i was so excited to write it. i hope you love it <3 - [0.9k] | join the party!
Friday movie nights had become an unspoken tradition once you moved into the apartment with Bradley. Sometimes you had friends crash it. You can’t count the amount of times you’d woken up to one of them still passed out on your couch the next morning. 
It was your favorite thing about living together, you think. The routine comfortability, a constant you could count on when the week was particularly slow and dreary and never ending. 
This week had been one of those. The days dragged and bled into one another until it all felt like one mass of awful. Friday came like a welcoming hug, a shining beacon of rest and you were exhausted. So much so that you felt you might cry when you came home a little later than normal for a Friday night and saw Bradley had ordered your favorite takeout. 
The two of you ate during the first movie, though you spent more time talking to each other about your day than you did actually watching the movie. You didn’t mind. You never really did when it came to him. You liked talking to him, maybe because he listened, really listened. 
You settle into the couch during the second movie. Blankets get unfolded and draped across your bodies, the throw pillows you’d insisted on getting rearranged. You tuck yourself against his side, fitting your bodies together like puzzle pieces.
You can’t quite place when you fell asleep last night though you think it was some time between the second and third movie. It wasn’t your fault, not really. Not when the weight of Bradley’s arm around your shoulders was like a weighted blanket in its own strange way or when the warmth he emanated made you feel so cozy. 
You were arguably closer than most roommates, maybe a little too close some would say. But it didn’t seem to matter. Plus, you liked having someone you could curl up on a couch and watch movies with at night. Totally platonically, of course. (Lie.)
It wasn’t like you were harboring feelings. (Double lie.) Bradley was just a really good friend and a great roommate, that was all. 
The small living room in your apartment gets the best direct sunlight. It was something you loved about the place until rays of sunshine flooded through the gaps in the blinds Saturday morning. They seem to aim perfectly for your face, your eyes squinting before you even get the chance to open them. 
There’s an awful ache in your neck and your left shoulder. Your face twists into a grimace as you bring a hand up to rub at your eyes, the heel of it digging into each eye one at a time. When you try to sit up, you’re stopped. At this, you peek an eye open. 
Something akin to embarrassment washes over you when you realize how you’ve ended up overnight. 
Bradley had also fallen asleep it seems, maybe right after you in the middle of movie number three. The television screensaver is on, Roku city floating by quietly. In your sleep, it seems the two of you had managed to maneuver yourselves so you were lying down on the couch. 
It’s unclear where you begin and he ends. Your legs are a tangled mess. You’re nearly lying on top of him. One of his arms is wrapped around your waist, the culprit you assume that prevented you from sitting up. You realize one of your arms is tucked at an odd angle between your bodies and has fallen asleep. 
With all your squirming taking in your positions, you seem to rouse Bradley from his sleep. His arm tightens momentarily and then seems to freeze. His face scrunches up in confusion and his eyes blink open slowly. A blush seems to rise almost immediately after he opens his eyes and notices you, tangled up on the couch with him. 
The two of you are equally flustered, almost embarrassed as you disentangle yourselves from each other. 
“Sorry, sorry,” he’s started to mumble as you separate yourselves to opposite sides of the couch. You’re shaking your head the whole time, answering each apology with some variation of don’t worry about it and it’s fine. 
Your breathing feels a little uneven and you swallow, a little nervous. Bradley runs a hand through his hair, messing it up further. Once the two of you settle, you manage to look at each other at the same time and burst into a fit of giggles. 
“Sorry,” he apologizes again and you shake your head, wave him off. His morning voice does something silly to your insides. 
“It’s fine, really,” you say, ducking your head as your giggles fade and your smile turns a little shy. You shrug. “It was kind of nice, actually.”
The smattering of red on his cheeks reappears. 
“Yeah?”
You nod. “Only, I think a bed would’ve been nicer. My neck is all kinds of fucked now.”
He laughs, deep and loud. It makes your smile morph into a grin. He looks at you with something soft in his eyes and he nods once. “Next time.”
You swallow, trying to ignore the warmth licking through your chest at the thought of sharing a bed with Bradley. Instead, you nod, short and quick like you agree and then you’re clearing your throat and rising from the couch. 
“Breakfast?”
“Yes, please,” he says and you wander off towards the kitchen. He follows after you, though not immediately. Not until he calms his heart down and gets his flushed cheeks under control. He thinks a night of shoddy sleep, squished together on the couch might just be the beginning of something sweet and new. 
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notroosterbradshaw · 1 year
Text
the relationship experience - epilogue
part of: The Boyfriend Experience universe
seven.
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After showering off the day’s jet vapour, sweat and turmoil, Rooster was remarkably calmer after a while. You’d gone to bed a little earlier, knowing he would be up and out of the apartment before the sun rose. He had a point to prove. He was going to be the best he could be and no one would stand in his way again. All bets were off.
Wandering into the bedroom, he roughly tousled his wet curls before stretching, giving you an impish, even forced grin. His entire body felt like it might explode, muscles sore in every nook and cranny, head pounding. Time in the jet was one thing, but 200 or so push-ups (or multiples of them) weren’t going to be easy to back up on if he kept purposefully looking for them.
But that unfiltered rage of seeing Mav again... Fuck, he thought he’d buried that part of himself. He’d been so lucky to get through college and finally begin his career, albeit late, without having to run into Captain Pete Mitchell again.
A captain, he scoffed. So fucking pathetic. But it also spoke volumes.
After all this time, he probably could have been an admiral. Or retired. Burned in. But Mav’s recklessness never dissipated, and Rooster was almost embarrassed for him. Someone with at least some seniority should have been their instructor, so he figured it had come down to Ice using his influence and it only reaffirmed to him that whatever this mission was, they’d all be fucking stupid to want to be a part of it if Maverick was leading them.
But Rooster had plans. Big ones. He was focused on promotions, he wanted a family... he wanted stability, he wanted you. He wanted everything his father had been denied. Everything his family had been denied. And the last person that was going to stand in his way was Maverick again.
“You coming to bed, or just gonna stand there lost in your thoughts?” you teased him tenderly as he scratched his belly, the movement urging every muscle in his upper half to ripple, still taut and overworked from the first day of his detachment. You knew it was unintentional on his behalf, but he was just a God standing quietly in your bedroom, questioning - what you gathered - was his worst nightmare reimagined. When he figured it all out that he could do so much better than you, you’d remember nights like this Bradley Bradshaw’s beauty was undeniably on display fondly. “Get over here, big boy.”
He couldn’t resist a smile at your (not so) little nickname for him. You didn’t use it often, but when you did, he felt it to his bones. “Coming,” he replied quietly, moving towards you and exhausted, crawling up the mattress, flopping face down. You moved to his side and smoothed his hair, tracing the frown lines between his brows, adoringly tracing the faint scars on his chin. He yawned, the adrenaline of the day waning, staring at you with tired, bloodshot eyes.
“I love you,” was all you could tell him, rolling to your side to face him.
He dragged you to him so your bodies were flush and hitched your thigh over his hip, his calloused palm gripping the meat of your quad, thumb smoothing over your skin.
Your day had been long, teaching, planning, teaching again, but you knew sleep was not close for Bradley. He was an average sleeper at the best of times. He fell asleep quickly and usually woke up after a few hours. There was rarely a night you’d get up to go to the bathroom and he wasn’t reading or tinkering with his phone. But as long as he kept lovingly flitting his long fingers against your skin, enamoured by the sparks it caused, you’d allow him to remain within himself while he continued to process but thankful his mood slowly subsided.
You couldn’t recall a time you’d seen him so upset since Mav…since Mav pulled his papers. A night neither of you would ever forget.
It all came down to Mav.
You hated the power Bradley let Maverick laud over him, though he’d deny it to the grave. But you weren’t sure how to let him handle it and all you could do was support him until he could figure it out himself.
“I love you,” he breathed into you. “I love you so fucking much. Never forget that, okay?”
You smiled uncertainly and gripped his curls as he groaned in pleasure, honey eyes fluttering closed in bliss. “I know. But you sure you’re okay?”
“Got my love in my arms, it’s all I need,” he promised. “Baby?”
He had your undivided attention. It felt so damn good being with him like this. He was so strong, you couldn’t believe your luck that Bradley Bradshaw chose to be in love with you. “Baby,” you harmonised.
“The tenant in mom and dad’s old beach house vacated today.”
You hummed in reply, revelling in his warmth and he adjusted his posture to rest his chin on his hand. “Is that a good or a bad thing?”
“Dunno...” he studied your face, a shy smile threatening. He chewed his lip into his gleaming teeth for a moment, looking for something... anything. “Their lease was over. And I need somewhere to live,” he sighed gently, reminding you that San Diego was his home again too. His transfer was now in effect and the luxury of his accommodation in the barracks would soon end if it hadn’t already. It wasn’t something he’d been entirely clear on, but here he was, and frankly, he always had a pillow next to yours.
“Is the house in good shape?” you asked. You had driven by it Carole and Goose’s home so many times over the years, and it appeared to be a little weathered, but the bones still appeared strong. A cute beachfront villa that was down the road from your parents before that all imploded.
“Dunno – I haven’t been inside for years. The agent said it’d been taken care of, but I should consider a few improvements here and there. Modernise bathrooms, maybe give the kitchen some love.”
“But you don’t cook.”
“What do you mean I don’t cook?” he scoffed with a laugh. “You’re kidding, right?”
“I haven’t seen you anywhere near a utensil the whole time we’ve been together,” you told him sceptically, but his little pout of disbelief was so fucking cute.
“I cook,” he protested, rolling you to your back and you squeaked. He gripped your wrists back against the pillows as he eased over you with his hulking, heavenly frame. You loved being covered by his bulk and eagerly opened your legs to him, lacing your calves around his. He kissed your pulse for good measure, and you exhaled sharply. Divinity. “Like that?” he asked quietly. Yes, you really did.
You nodded, eyes fluttering closed as he chuckled quietly into your skin. He nuzzled along your jaw and dragged your lip into his teeth before whispering, “For the record, I just don’t cook here,” he clarified as you laughed, his face creasing into a small smile, his honey eyes lighting up with your giggle. It was the first time tonight the smile met his beautiful eyes, and you were a little relieved. “I didn’t give it much thought before I shipped out, but I have to start thinking of ways to get my gear here. Everything is collecting dust in Virginia Beach,” he grumbled.
"What’s your house like there?”
He shrugged. “Small. I don’t have a lot of stuff. Bed, couch, some pots and pans for the kitchen I use frequently,” he covered your mouth with his hand as you belly laughed again, he loved the reverberation and joy against his body. “Knock it off, you.”
You grinned as he smirked. “Put up or shut up, Bradshaw.”
“I’ll fuckin’ put up. You’ll rue the day you questioned my culinary skills,” he reiterated. “I’ve been cooking for myself since I was 18. Could cook you under the table, kid.”
“It sounds like a threat, but you’re not leaving the bed to go make me a steak.”
“Steak,” he scoffed. “Basic. I’ll make you dinner tomorrow night. You can reserve judgement until then.”
You rolled your eyes but loved hearing something new about him. You bet he probably was a pretty good cook. He needed to be considerate of his weight and conditioning, so it wasn’t surprising that he could cook well (regardless of his loss of all control and willpower when pizza was around). “I can’t wait.”
“Okay,” he said softly. “Tomorrow night I’ll wine and dine the shit outta you.”
“So romantic,” you told him sarcastically as he laughed softly, he was unravelling before you. There was your man. Back to you so you craned your neck, reaching for his lips as he delicately traced your lips with his slick tongue and kissed you deeply, tightening the grip he had on your wrists above your head. He wasn’t letting you get out of his grasp just yet. While uncomfy, you had absolutely no problem being tied down (or if he asked really nicely, tied up) by Bradley Bradshaw.
“So, about the house…” he tried again, against your lips while you were still weak off his kiss.
“Whatever you need,” you told him. “I can help you. I know you’re going to be really busy the next month with training and however long you’re deployed again,” you added the last part a bit softer.
“Thank you, love.”
“That’s okay.” But dread overwhelmed you suddenly because it meant if he was going to move into his parent's old place, he wouldn’t need to be at your place every night. Shit. “I’m a bit sad you’re moving,” you forced a pout and his eyes danced. His lips caught yours, encouraged.
“Well, maybe you can bring some of your stuff there too…” he suggested, voice quiet. Nervous?
“Oh, I’m allowed to stay too?” you kidded, to try and hide any discontent you were feeling. He sighed, seeing right through it and nipped between your breasts before grasping your jaw lightly wanting to keep your gaze.
“I want you to live there with me, sweet girl. And make it our place,” he confided. Of this, he was certain.
“Oh,” you replied, a little taken aback. It all seemed so quick, as the panic set in. You had only been with Bradley a few months… sure, he’d been deployed for most of it, but it still seemed to be moving faster than you’d expected. Wasn’t this how it usually went for those other military families though? Everything seemed like a series of major milestones in quick (or terribly slow) succession depending on deployment durations. It was everything you didn’t want to consider.
You’d seen it all before. Fall fast, make a life together as soon as possible, and watch your loved one get deployed. Get married and have babies between assignments, watching babies grow up with distant parents. Your throat was closing up as you thought about how cyclical your life was. 
The bubble you found yourselves in was so easy. Everything was so unofficial together, but as you thought about it… you had spent every night together. You worked your separate jobs and had different friends and different interests, but in most instances, you were living one life. This wasn’t a casual thing… it was never casual.
“What do you think?” he asked a little timidly after a few moments of silence. Seeing Bradley Bradshaw anxious was… a whole thing. He chewed his lower lip, awaiting your answer but if he could feel your heart race, he’d understand.
"I don’t... know,” you confided. “We’ve never talked about living together.”
“Probably because we just did it naturally?” he sniped as you made a face.
“Don’t be a dick to me,” you muttered smartly.
“I’m sorry,” he admitted and remained silent a minute, chewing the inside of his cheek, pondering his next move. “But isn’t that exactly what has happened?”
“You showed up one night and never left?” you reckoned.
He actually cackled and nodded. “You kept feeding me, and I didn’t leave. So, it’s on you if we’re being real honest.”
You inhaled sharply as he gazed at you like you hung the stars in the sky. And you swore, there wasn’t a moment you could have loved him more. But you would love him more tomorrow... and the day after that -
“Why don’t we try it then? I stop living out of an overnight bag...” he suggested but deep down, you knew he was covering his bases. He wanted you to move in with him, he wanted you to make a life together. And you knew you were desperate to say yes but the voice in the back of your mind told you to practise patience. 
“Sounds like you’re pretty settled on keeping it,” your tone told him you were on to him.
Blinking a few times, he wouldn’t admit how much not receiving a fast yes hurt. “Probably. I know I can do amazing things with it,” he said softly. “We can do amazing things with it.” He decided to change his tack. “Why don’t you come with me when I go check it out in a few days? Tell me what you think it needs…”
“If you want me to,” you gave a gentle shrug, giving in and he kissed your chin. Then your jaw, then your throat. He was merciless when it came to getting his own way. “Bradley Bradshaw. You are a bad, bad man…” you warned. Maybe you warned, but his huffs of laughter against your skin told you he didn’t see a threat. You melted, how you loved that cheeky giggle.
“The fact of the matter remains, you… I need to move my life to California,” his fingertips walked down your ribs to your hip, his fingers pressing into the flesh, pushing a breathy sigh out between your lips with his rough grasp. Tactile asshole. “I can’t keep living in the barracks. Have overstayed my welcome.”
“You sleep here every night, you certainly don’t live in the barracks,” you taunted, and he knew you were on to him. “Why don’t you just stay here with me then?” the words slipped out before you had the power to halt them.
He licked his lips, heart racing. “You want me to live with you?”
“Well, at least you won’t be homeless until you move your stuff across the country.”
He chewed his lip to ensure he didn’t laugh. “Isn’t that what I just asked you? Trying to take my moment, love?”
“Well, if you want to stay in the barracks until you move into your parents' place, you can continue to enjoy communal showers,” you couldn’t even hold back the ick factor, it was written all over your face.
“Prefer the communal showers here,” he admitted, highly amused with you.
“Oh, and that shitty single bed at base. I know you love that.”
“You’re right, I do hate it.”
“Look at all these facts I’ve just provided for you.”
“You’re just openly mocking me now. I think you’re really into this,” he reckoned.
You ignored him, or tried to before adding, “And this bed is so big, Bradley.”
He shook his head, amazed at how you turned this in your favour. “So big for you here all alone,” he agreed with you. “But plenty big enough for both of us.”
“You don’t have to decide right now, but it could be fun,” you said shyly.
“Oh, don’t get me wrong,” Rooster grinned. “I don’t even need to think about it. Easiest decision of my life. I’ll move in tomorrow if you’ll have me in your tiny apartment?”
“Bradley - ”
“Verbal agreements are as legally enforceable as a written one,” he cut in, covering your mouth with his very large, calloused palm. There was no way you were going to take this back. “You cannot get out of this. Who else will keep you warm in this big ol’ bed?”
You laughed heartily, dragging his hand away. “I mean, you practically live here anyway, you probably have squatter's rights. Don’t really have a goddamn leg to stand on, do I?”
“Doesn’t sound like it,” he agreed, smiling widely, all teeth, all crinkly eyes. All absolutely spectacular. Your beautiful boy. “Come with me in a few days. See what kinda shape the house is in. We might be surprised with what we find,” he nuzzled your jaw and placed wild, wet kisses across your clavicle, and your décolletage and breathed deeply, kissing across your breasts, leaving it hard to concentrate, your head swimming and unable to formulate the sentences.
He was a marvel at making your head spin. You were so addicted to him; and you truly didn’t know what would happen to you if this all fell apart... if he didn’t come home one day -
“You with me, love?” he asked softly, caressing your cheek.
“I’m with you,” you held his hand against your face too.
But he was right. This apartment was okay when you were both around, but Bradley deserved space too. If you were going to live together, you were going to need a bigger space to share. You needed to do it right.
“Okay, I’ll come with you to check out the house,” you told him. “I love you,” you dragged your fingers through his wild curls and his honey eyes danced gleefully.
Your Bradley Bradshaw was back.
“I love you so fucking much,” he kissed you hard and deep. You knew exactly where that kiss was going and you were only too happy to oblige as his hips rolled into you, desperate for friction.  
“Make love to me, roomie,” you told him, dreamily.
“Roomie,” he liked that. But Rooster had already decided. He was keeping his parents' old beach house. He knew it just needed some time, affection and elbow grease to bring it back to its former glory and put back in what his parents wanted for it all along.
A home.
…and he wanted that home with you.
FIN.
A/N: the tag list no longer exists. To keep up to date, give @notroosterbradshaw-library a follow x
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evansrogerskitten · 1 year
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Marry Me
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Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader
Bradley is ready to put a ring on it.
Give yourself a smut and angst break with this self indulgent romantic fluff. Series song is “You Send Me” by Sam Cooke. ❤️
Thank you to my best beta @letsby for beta this like five months ago. It's time to set it free. And to twin @thebeautifullydamnedone for always encouraging my Bradley fluff.
Read on AO3
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My Top Gun Masterlist | My Master Masterlist
Bradley is ready to put a ring on it.
Series completed 2/5/23
Thank you to my best beta @letsby for beta this like five months ago. It's time to set it free. And to twin @thebeautifullydamnedone for always encouraging my Bradley fluff.
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