#rooster oneshot

[ddejavvu]

Love to Lie - Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Reader (Part 1) / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 (Final Part)

Summary: Your worst fear is recognized when Bradley’s jet goes down with him in it. You’re not sure why you’re still his emergency contact, you’d broken up two weeks ago, but when you rush into the hospital room, you discover that you have a chance to fix the mistake you’d been cursing yourself for. The only problem is, you have to lie to Bradley, and you discover that you love doing it if it means you get to be with him again.

Contents/Warnings: fem!reader, Mitchell!reader, angst, angst with a fluffy/happy ending, amnesia trope, hospitals and their subsequent medical details, memory loss, goose and carole are still alive because i say so

WC: 11.3K / navigation / inbox

A/N: thank you to everyone who has encouraged me in my development of this series! it's three parts long, and each part will be posted one week after the one before it. that means you get chapter 2 next week, and chapter 3 two weeks from now. and after chapter 3 is released, i will post the full fic in one single post, so that it's easier to read. this series means a lot to me, it's the longest fic I've ever finished for this account, and I would really love to hear what you think of it. Thank you to the love of my life miss jade (@luveline), for being the first person to read this (!!), and for all of your wonderful feedback that cheered me on as I crossed the finish line for this series. I don't think I would have finished it if it wouldn't have been for your support, so thank you sweetpea <3

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

It’s 11:14 AM when you get the call. Your phone buzzes ballistically beneath your pillow, where you’d stuffed it haphazardly last night somewhere close to 4 AM. For the record, you’d only slept because your eyes hurt from being open for so long. You’re certain that, after what you’d done, you deserved to ache for eternity, but you’d succumbed to sleep when it pulled hard enough at you.

Raising the phone to your ear is a chore, especially because the number on the screen is unrecognizable, but you stretch your tired, bed-ridden limbs and hold the cool glass screen to your face. It’s jarring, and you long for the stuffy warmth of the pillow again.

“Hello?”

“Miss Y/N Mitchell?” It’s a man’s voice, deep and strong through the receiver. It’s no-nonsense, and you almost worry that you’ve misfiled your taxes, that someone from the IRS is tracking you down.

“That’s me,” You rub sleep out of your left eye, harder than necessary so that your vision is blurry when you open your eye again. You’re not very gentle with yourself these days.

“You’re listed as an emergency contact for Mr. Bradley Bradshaw. He’s currently a patient at the Naval Medical Center in San Diego. He was brought in at 9:37 AM this morning when his jet malfunctioned mid-exercise, and he crashed into a canyon below.”

Your heart stops. 

Your cheeks get hot, your hands start to tingle, and your stomach feels like it’s going to start turning cartwheels, sloshing your insides around until you vomit what little you’ve eaten.

Bradley’s dead, you think, Bradley’s dead, Bradley’s dead, Bradley’s dead.

“We were able to airlift him out, and he’s stabilized now-” Bradley’s not dead,  “-but he’s still unconscious. His parents are here, as well as your father, if you’d like to join them.”

It takes a long time for you to speak. It’s almost a full minute, and the man on the other end has to call your name to get you to respond.

“Miss Mitchell?”

“I’ll be there,” You blurt, heaving a shaky breath as you seal a hand over your mouth. You part your fingers only to make sure he hears you clearly as you confirm, “He’s alive?”

“Yes, he’s alive and stable.” The man informs you, “He’ll recover, Miss Mitchell.”

Bradley’s not dead. Bradley’s not dead. Bradley’s not dead.

“I’ll be there,” You repeat, and for the first time in almost 36 hours, you kick the crappy motel blankets off of your legs and stand, “Thank you, sir.”

--

Wearing a bra again after two weeks of lazing around in bed is awful. But you’ll do it for Bradley, if only to make up for the last thing you’d said to him.

“I can’t love you anymore!” Rings in your ears, and a vision of Bradley’s hands reaching desperately for you flashes through your mind, covering up the green light ahead of you.

Someone honks behind you, a BMW. You jolt to attention, stepping on the gas and jerking into the intersection.

Easy, you chide yourself, You’re going to the hospital to visit a patient, not to be one.

You’re able to pull into the hospital’s parking lot without nearly causing any more car crashes, and you briefly wonder if you should take the coward’s way out again as you trek over the asphalt towards the hospital. You’d run two weeks ago, why not now? Why not now, when what you’d been worried about that night has actually happened?

Urged by the regret flooding your veins since fleeing, you walk on, stepping through the automatic doors of the hospital and sidling up to the reception desk.

“I’m here to see Bradley Bradshaw,” You inform the nurse there, “Uh- Lieutenant. If that… helps.”

She sends you a kind smile, filled with sympathy that you’re thankful for as you stammer and stumble your way through speaking. You’re sure you’re not the most distraught person here, and you’re guiltily thankful for that. 

“Room 624,” The nurse tells you, and oh, what a sick coincidence, “Down the hall and to the left, take the elevator up and follow the arrows on the floor.”

6/24 is not only Bradley’s birthday, but your anniversary; the day you’d kissed him on the swings in his backyard with hot fudge sticking to your lips. He’d been glum about his dad missing his birthday on deployment, and, of course, your dad couldn’t be there either. Carole had done her best to brighten up her boy, but some things couldn’t be mended with gift wrap, and you all knew that.

You’d snuck out to join him that night with a sundae, offering him the serving spoon thickly coated in the chocolate. He’d accepted it with a huffy eye roll, upset that you’d managed to cheer him up even a little bit with just one spoon of ice cream.

--

“It sucks,” Bradley mutters around the chocolate in his mouth, the syrup sticking his words together, “I know he can’t do anything about it. But I still want him here.”

“I know,” You hum, taking a bite of ice cream for yourself, “I’m sorry, Brad. If it makes you feel any better, he’ll probably get you something, like, really good when he gets back. He’ll feel all guilty, that’s what my dad did and I got a puppy out of it.”

“We’ve already got a puppy,” Bradley gestures to the Bradshaw’s family dog, well on in years by the gray around his muzzle and his tendency to nap instead of move.

“Maybe you’ll get one that you can actually play with,” You offer Bradley another bite of the ice cream, and you only feel a little bad for making fun of Lewis. But the dog doesn’t understand your teasing, softly snoring on the porch.

“Maybe he’ll get me a car,” Bradley gushes, “A bitchin’ one, like a Bronco or something. Then we can put our surfboards in the back and go to the beach.”

“You don’t even have a license!” You elbow Bradley, laughing at his lofty dreams, “But a Bronco would be cool. You should send your dad a magazine clipping of one with your next letter and talk about how cool it is.”

“You’re smarter than you look,” Bradley muses, a smear of chocolate over his lower lip that he doesn’t lick away.

You scoff, stomping on his foot where it’s planted in the grass beside your own. He jolts away with a yelp, and in doing so, jerks the swing he’s sitting on, He catches his balance and you notice the syrup on his lip, reaching out to clean it with your thumb.

“You’ve got hot fudge on your face, doofus,” You sneer, happy to return his teasing, “You eat like a toddler.”

“I’m not the one who put three cups of it on the sundae!” Bradley insists, and his lower lip catches your thumb as he speaks. Teenagers in love, you’re hyperaware of touches like that, and your breath hitches in your throat at the contact. He notices it too, staring down wide-eyed at where your thumb hovers over his lips.

“Sorry,” He blurts, and in doing so, his warm breath fans over your hand. You jerk it away, eyes on the ground as you mumble away his concerns.

“It’s fine,” You mutter in a terrible attempt to remain nonchalant, “We’re not four, it’s not like I think you’ve got cooties or something.’

Bradley takes to the teasing, glad it’s not tense anymore, “That’s not what you say when I leave my underwear on the floor.”

“‘Cause that’s gross!” You launch into a rant, “That’s, like, personal! And they’re used too,” You shudder, handing him the sundae intent on scrubbing a hand over your face, “Nasty, bro.”

Despite your casual nickname for the boy beside you, you feel like anything but bros when his hand brushes yours. He takes the ice cream from you, and his hand half-closes around your own, sending a spark shooting up your spine.

Your breath catches in your throat again and this time Bradley hears it, looking at you through his lashes with those wide brown eyes.

Neither of you move away this time, frozen just like the treat in your joint grip.

You feel extra affection for the boy next to you today, the shared grief of losing your fathers every few months bringing you closer together. It’s what compels you to lean in, tilting your swing sideways to brush your lips over his own in a painfully awkward teenage-style kiss. Before you have the time to panic about whether you did the right thing, Bradley reciprocates, pursing his lips slightly to fit them around your top one. You follow his lead and it goes much better, a chaste kiss that’s sweeter than the chocolate staining your lips.

--

You’re glad you’d kissed him that day, you’re glad you had the balls to take the leap that resulted in a nearly twenty year long relationship. It would have been twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-five, fifty if you hadn’t chickened out two weeks ago, but you try not to think about that in the elevator lest you make yourself sick.

You find room 624 easily, the painted arrows on the floor leading you down the hallway that the room stands in. You wonder if you should knock first, you’re not too knowledgeable on hospital etiquette, but you decide that manners can be damned, your boyfriend- ex-boyfriend is in there.

You turn the handle and step inside, and Carole looks up from Bradley’s bedside immediately. You think she’s expecting a doctor, and her desperation for finding one breaks your heart. Her teary face splits into a sad smile, and she rushes to your side to envelop you in a hug. You let her have it because she’s grieving over her son, but you’re surprised she’s not immediately angry with you for breaking up with Bradley.

“Honey,” She gushes into your shoulder, “Oh, honey, I’m so glad you’re here! Brad’s gonna be okay, they said he’s just gonna need some help breathing until he gets stable. Then they can get him healthy and ready to go again!”

“That’s great,” You hold her close, relishing the last Bradshaw hug you’ll probably ever get, “Where’s Nick and dad?”

“Oh, they went to get food,” Carole releases you, swatting her hand in the air in an affectionately teasing manner, “You know those boys, always hungry for something.”

You laugh awkwardly, watching as she settles down by Bradley’s bedside again. She looks back up at you where you’re swaying on your feet, gesturing to the chair beside her, “Well come on, girl! Get in here!” She seems much more lively now that she has company, and you hate to think of her grieving her injured son alone.

“Oh- I, uh,” You stammer, darting for the seat beside her, “I wasn’t sure if-”

“Don’t worry,” She seems to misplace your concern, “He’s okay, sweetie-pie, you won’t hurt him just by breathin’ on him.”

“Right,” You smile, though its disingenuous with tension, “Um, so it was a mid-exercise crash?”

“Mhm,” Her face dims slightly, “Apparently there was some freak accident with one of the engines, 'set off the whole thing. And that’s two crashes in one week! First it was that Javy boy, I tell you, I think they should vet those engineers better. I mean, aren’t they supposed to catch that stuff beforehand?”

“Yeah,” You feel partially numb, but you’re not sure whether it’s emotional or physical. You’ve been trying to avoid looking at Bradley so far, using his bubbly, bouncing mom as a distraction, but now that the blonde has settled beside you your eyes drift. 

He could be perceived as sleeping, if the color wasn’t drained from his face. His skin is still tan but it’s duller now, golden brown fading to a sickly, colder shade of it, like there’s no life beneath it. His eyes are shut and there’s a breathing tube up his nose; you wonder how pissed he’ll be when he wakes up to find out they’ve had to trim his mustache around the thing.

“Must be a Bradshaw family tradition,” Carole breaks your concentration, laughing weakly, her voice lined with a hint of tears, “Crashing, scarin’ their girls half to death.”

You remember the day of Goose’s crash like it was yesterday. You’d only been three at the time, freshly so. But grief like that, the panic you’d observed, doesn’t go away. It can’t be forgotten, it can’t drift out of your brain like so many memories do with age. You and Bradley had sat together in the hospital with Carole and your dad, and Nick still had the crummy plane drawings you’d done for him while waiting for him to wake up.

Carole’s usage of the phrase ‘their girls’ unnerves you. She’s been exceptionally nice to you so far, especially considering that she’s fiercely protective of Bradley, and should have kicked you halfway to Mars for ditching him like you’d done. But she’s leaning towards you in her chair, and you come to the dreadful realization that she doesn’t know you’ve broken up with Bradley.

“Now, I know you wanted to keep things hush-hush,” She gushes, happy to look at your animated face instead of Bradley’s still one for a moment. She reaches over to brace her hands on your knees, leaning eagerly into your space, “But I have to know, babycakes, how did it go?”

“Hm?” You look dazedly at her, still partially staring at Bradley.

“The proposal!” She squeezes your hands, sniffling weakly with the remnants of tears past, “I know that boy was finally manning up enough to ask you, 'should'a put a ring on you years ago."

Any other time, you'd groan at Carole's opinion on your relationship. She's been urging the two of you to tie the knot for decades, but you'd felt no burning desire to go to the courthouse. You were comfortable in your life, why spend an obscene amount of money to get a piece of paper that tells you you're in love? You knew that for free, in the way that Bradley looked at you, in the way that he memorized all of your fast food orders, in the way that his hand so often found yours beneath the sheets in his sleep. Now her teasing is a sore spot, one that gapes the wound already bleeding in your chest.

"-But when I asked him how it went he said he’d ‘share the details later’. I’m sure you wanted to make some big announcement or something, but I need this right now, honey, tell me what happened.”

She’s staring at you like she always has, like you’re the sweet little girl she helped raise when your mama had chickened out. Cowardice must run in the family.

There’s such pretty hope shining in her eyes that you can’t bear to crush it, ready to spew lies about how glorious Bradley’s proposal had gone, how you’d fallen to your knees to kiss him, how you’d shouted ‘yes!’ from the rooftops. Fortunately, you don’t have to lie to her, because the door opens and your dad and Nick step through.

“Hey,” Your dad cheers, tossing you a plastic-wrapped sandwich, “There you are, honey. I was worried you weren’t gonna show up, ‘thought you’d be mad at him or something.”

“You know she was mad at me when we went down?” Goose gestures to Carole incredulously, and you can’t see behind his sunglasses but you know he’s addressing you, “I wasn’t even flying the damn thing and I got lectured!”

He lets up, goes easy on Carole, you’re sure because he’d had to comfort her earlier. You see a slightly dark, damp patch on the left side of his Hawaiian shirt as he leans in to hug you, probably her tears.

“Good to see ‘ya, kid,” Nick rubs your back, “You doin’ okay?”

“Yeah,” You nod, voice slightly shaky as you smooth your previously-folded hands down your thighs. The movement catches Carole’s attention, and you look away before you can see her reaction to your bare ring finger.

“He’ll be fine,” Goose leans over to slap Bradley’s calf, and Carole looks like she wants to scold him for it, as if he'll die right then and there, “He’s tough just like’is daddy.”

“His daddy should go get me some tea,” Carole huffs, placing her hand over Bradley’s as if it would make up for Nick’s slap, “And take Maverick with you, I don’t want you getting lost.”

“Oh, again-?” Goose grumbles, setting his lunch on one of the plastic chairs around Bradley’s bed, “You could’a told me that before we left, honey.”

“Didn’t want it until now,” Carole insists, “Now shoo, get some for Y/N, too.”

The second the door shuts behind the two men, a stiff silence falls over the room.

Carole’s sweet voice breaks it, but it’s the last thing you want to hear, “Where’s the ring?”

You stare at the sandwich in your lap, like it’ll open face and read like a book, giving you instructions on how to lie your way through this.

“I know he asked you,” She presses on, voice pitched up with tension, “I- I gave him the ring Nick used to propose to me. That was almost a month ago. We swapped it out for a wedding band, and- and I thought Bradley could use the engagement ring for you, too. I know he asked you.”

“Carole,” You can’t bear to look her in the eyes, not the woman who’d fed you macaroni and cheese when your dad was halfway around the world in a fighter jet and tucked you in extra tight during a rainstorm so that the lightning couldn't sneak through the gaps in the blankets to get you.

“No, tell me, where is the ring?” She raises her voice, the way she used to when Bradley would leave his scooter out in the rain to rust, “Just tell me-” Her voice peters out into a weak whimper, “-tell me you didn’t say no.”

“I’m a coward,” You finally mutter as her answer, hateful and wicked, “I got scared. I wish I’d said yes, really, I- I wish I could take it back, but-”

“What did you do?” Her face crumples at your admission and she nearly shrieks, squeezing her hand tighter over Bradley’s, “Y/N, what did you do?”

“I said no!” You sob, chest heaving as you wipe away a tear from your eye heavy-handed, “I was scared, Carole. After Coyote went down,” You blearily recall the last plane crash you’d heard about, a member of Bradley’s own squadron caught in a bird strike. He’d been fine, but waiting for the news took you right back to your youth, and you’d been hit with the striking realization that it could happen to Bradley, too. It could be you in that chair, it could be your love on the line. You’d been so sick with dread that you’d backed away altogether, running away to preserve your emotions.

“I just- I didn’t want it to happen to Bradley,” You confess, “I didn’t want it to happen to me. So when he asked, I was-” You sniffle, hard, “I was so scared. I didn’t want to marry him and then lose him. For some reason this-” You suppress a sob, throat aching and chest heaving, “-dating a pilot is different than marrying one. Dating is- it’s temporary, even if you plan on it lasting forever. It’s less serious, it’s not set in stone. But marriage-” You hiccup, “-marriage is the real deal. It's like- It's like I was dating Bradley, y'know, the teenage boy who took me to homecoming because I was sad no one asked me. But- but then all of a sudden I was marrying an aviator. And that’s- that was scary! That was real. I- we’d been together for twenty years!” You gush, wiping your nose with the back of your hand, “I should have known marriage wouldn’t be any different. It’s not like we ever thought we’d break up,” You sniffle weakly, “Marriage was always sort of silly to me, 'cause we just thought we'd be together forever regardless. But I never realized how real it would feel. So I- I freaked out. When he asked me, I made up some stupid excuse, and I chickened out! But-” Your chest heaves with a sob as you finally lift your eyes to Bradley, “He crashed anyway. He went down even though I said no, and it still hurts.” You cry, face scrunched in despair, “It hurts so bad, Carole, I didn’t think it would still hurt.”

“You fool,” She huffs exasperatedly, but she reaches out to clutch your hand like a lifeline. She’s holding Bradley’s with her other, and you wish for a moment that you could cut out the middleman and hold his hand on your own. You don't feel worthy to touch him anymore. “You don’t stop loving someone by leaving them, you stop loving them by moving on. Of course it still hurts, you didn't move on; you still love him. And- and leaving him didn’t stop him from getting hurt, it just meant he probably went down wishing he got to tell you he loved you this morning, so you'd know.”

The thought breaks you, Bradley ejecting with you on his mind. Evidently he hadn’t fully accepted your breakup, not if he hadn’t even told his mom about it. You wonder if he was planning on trying to get you back, if after work today he would have come over with flowers and a thousand pleas on his lips that you didn’t deserve.

“He loves you,” She continues, tears wetting her own cheeks, “And even if you did say somethin’ stupid, I don’t think there’s anything you could tell that boy that’d make him stop loving you. Apologize when he wakes up, baby, he’ll understand. He'll be hurt, no doubt. But he’s been scared before, too, believe me.”

“I will,” You gush, nodding as she squeezes your hand and Bradley’s in sync, “I will, I promise! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“Just make it right,” She pleads, “Can’t have you two splittin’ up now, not after all this time.”

“I wish I hadn’t done it,” You weep, holding your hands to your eyes as if you can plug up the tears, “I- I just panicked! And I’ve been a wreck ever since, I- I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, I can’t-”

“Tea’s here!” The door opens, and Nick is suddenly a lot quieter as he sees you bent in half and crying, “Oh, honey.”

“C’mere,” Your dad edges around Goose, squatting by the side of your chair while Carole rubs your back. He’s always been fantastic at comforting you, which you marvel at because he was so active in his career. He wasn’t always around when you were little, but that didn’t stop him from knowing how you liked your back rubbed, your hair done, and your cookies warmed.

“He’s gonna wake up,” Your dad soothes you, wiping a tear away from your face, with the hand that isn’t rubbing your back, “Don’t worry, sweetheart.”

“It’s okay,” Carole promises, and you know she’s talking about something else entirely, “It’s alright honey, it’ll all work out.”

Nick feels a bit useless now, standing there with two cups of tea in his hands while everyone else comforts you, but he’s quick to notice a frown work its way onto Bradley’s sleeping face.

“Brad- hey! Look,” He gestures with one cup of tea, only spilling a tiny drop, “I think he’s wakin’ up.”

All of a sudden you want to go home. You’re not sure you can do this, you don’t belong here with his grieving family. You belong in your bed, kicking yourself for your cowardice and wishing you’d done better by him.

But there’s no time to flee now, not again. This time you have to brave it, you have to watch as his big brown eyes slowly blink open, a haze of sleep and medication clouding them over.

“Agh,” He groans, hand twitching by his side, “What-?”

“Hey, Bradley.” Nick leans over the bed, tea now set aside on a tiny table, “How y’feelin’ bud? You had quite the plane crash.”

Bradley takes a moment to observe his surroundings, blinking blearily at your dad, then you, then his mom. His eyes drift back over to you and they feel like they’re lasers, boring searing holes through your chest where your heart used to be two weeks ago.

The slow and steady beeping that had been long since tuned out slowly started to increase while Bradley regained consciousness. Your dad looked warily at the machine, watching Bradley’s heart rate rise.

“I’ll get a doctor.” He ducks out, and Carole stands.

“We should go,” She grabs Nick’s hand, looking pointedly at you, “We’ll give you a minute alone with him, honey.”

Nick starts to protest about being led away, something about how ‘-he came outta my balls! I can’t see him when he wakes up in the hospital?’ but Carole’s already corralling him to the nurse’s station in search of your father. If you weren’t so fond of the woman you’d be cursing her for sticking you alone with Bradley, but you know you can’t let yourself succumb to fear again; this time you have to be a big girl.

“Baby,” Bradley rasps, turning your attention back on him. You watch him weakly, eyes apprehensive as he reaches for your hand, “C’mere.” 

You hesitate, and he lets out a weak chuckle, “Come on, now. You’re not gonna kill me by holding my hand.”

“Bradley,” You sniffle, reaching out for his limp fingers on the bed, “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright,” He smiles lazily, eyes drooping, “I’m okay. Comes in the job description, I guess.”

“I’m sorry,” You repeat, grief-stricken as you clutch at his hand desperately, “I shouldn’t have left, I- I wish I had stayed.”

“Baby,” His brows furrow and he laughs sympathetically, “They wouldn’t have let you stay, you know that. I work on a naval base, not at a chipotle. You can’t sit with me all day. Plus, there was no way you would’ve known I was gonna go down. I’m glad you weren’t there, sweetheart. I wouldn’t have wanted you to see that.”

All at once, your chest burns hot, blazing with panic. Is he not going to talk to you about it? Is he going to pretend nothing happened? Is he going to refuse to acknowledge what you’d said? You stammer, “What-?”

“Mr. Bradshaw!” The doctor comes in, cheery now that his patient is awake. You turn your head, still dazed and fear-stricken at Bradley’s demeanor. “Let’s see how you’re doing here. Any chest pain?”

“A little,” Bradley shifts in his bed, wincing infinitesimally.

“Probably just some discomfort due to the broken ribs. Headache?”

“Yeah,” Bradley admits with a groan, “That I’ve got.”

The doctor scribbles something down on his chart, “What’s the last thing you remember?”

Bradley strains to think, “I… don’t know. I don’t even-" He grimaces, "I don't even remember the crash, ‘just know it happened ‘cause he told me.”

Bradley raises a shaky finger to point at Nick, who’s happy to see his son gain some mobility back, even if he is worried for the boy. The three adults had filed back into the room after the doctor, and you pointedly avoid Carole’s imploring stare.

“Think hard,” The doctor commands, and you squeeze his hand like it’s a play-dough machine, like memories will ooze themselves into his brain in star shapes and heart cut-outs.

“I remember…” Bradley rasps, turning his hand beneath yours to grasp it, “Jake’s birthday party. That was-” He glances over at you, “-last night?”

“That was three weeks ago,” This time your heart rate is the one to rise, echoing dully in your ears like the soundtrack of a horror film, “Is that-” You sniffle, “Is that the last thing you can remember, B?”

His eyebrows raise and he tries taking in the information, “Yeah- uh, shit. Three weeks ago. What does that mean, doctor?”

“It sounds like you’ve developed post-traumatic amnesia.” The doctor scribbles once more on his paperwork, “The good news is, we think you have only a mild concussion. And amnesia induced by mild concussions typically lasts only up to a week or two at most. But there’s a very real chance you could remember everything in just a few minutes.”

Amnesia.

He doesn’t remember.

“What I want you to do now is to rest, and we’ll have a nurse send up something to eat. Please,” The doctor eyes Nick knowingly, “Do not feed him the funyuns you’re holding behind your back.”

“Foiled again,” Goose laughs, tossing the packet of chips onto a chair beside his own lunch, “You got it, doc.”

“Alright, glad you’re awake,” The doctor bids you goodbye, “And- a nurse will be in to run a few simple tests later. For now, just sleep and eat.”

“Will do,” Bradley tries tightening his hand around yours but you worm away from him, and it’s heartbreakingly easy to do with his limited mobility. You stand abruptly, legs shaky and heart pounding in your chest as you stumble away from his bed.

Amnesia. Amnesia. Amnesia.

He doesn't remember.

“Honey?” Bradley calls warily, face scrunching into a tired frown.

His eyes follow you as you back right into your chair, the plastic scraping against the floor with an ungodly screech. Now the attention is all on you, and you give into that dreaded fight or flight response you seem to always fall victim to.

“I need to use the bathroom,” You ramble, rushing for the door, “I’ll be back!”

“Y/N-” Bradley tries calling, but his voice is weak enough where you can pretend you haven’t heard it as you try to refrain from running down the hall. You don’t make it ten steps before Bradley’s door closes with a sharp click, and the voice of one Carole Bradshaw cuts through the silence of the hallway.

“Y/N Mitchell!”

She’s using the same tone she used to use when you’d get in trouble for pulling a girl’s hair at school, or throwing mud at a boy who was mean to Bradley. You react just like you had then, spine stiffening and limbs locking. 

“Don’t you dare walk away from me,” She warns, stomping towards you in her half-raised heels, “Turn around, young lady.”

You follow her orders even if the nickname is outdated. She’s got her pretty eyes narrowed, and as much as it pains you to be on the receiving end of one of her seldom-used withering stares, it’s better than being in there and watching Bradley’s eyes shift when he suddenly remembers you’d been the biggest douche on planet Earth.

“Did you apologize?” She inquires, and you nod obediently.

“But- but Carole, he doesn’t remember-!” 

“He will,” She promises, “And when he does, you’d better apologize again. He needs you right now, y’know? He thinks it’s three weeks ago, before you ran off and left'im. As far as he knows, you’re still his adoring girlfriend who he’s probably yearning to see right about now. So go in there,” She reaches for your hand, “Kiss that boy on the mouth,” She demands, “And stop running away!”

“What? I can’t-” You gush, trying to pull away. But she’s stronger than Bradley is at the moment, and her hand tightens around yours, “I can’t lie to him! Not about this, I- how long am I supposed to pretend?”

“As long as you can,” She insists, already pulling you back towards his room, a woman on a mission, “You march right on in there, and tell him how worried you were, and let his memories come back to him on his own time. He’s traumatized right now, he just doesn’t know it yet, and he needs you there. If you break the news to him now, it’ll only stress him out more. Go play nice, and when he comes around in a few minutes, you can have a real talk.”

“I don’t want to lie to him,” You lament, and she stops pulling you down the hall to narrow her eyes at you.

“Babydoll?” She asks sweetly, and fooled by her kindness, you hum in question, “I don’t give a shit.”

She’s never foul-mouthed, so it catches your attention. She holds your incredulous gaze, “You want him back?”

“Yes.”

“You wish you’d never left?”

“Yes.”

“Well as far as he knows, you haven’t.” She huffs, the fabric of her skirt flowing near her calves, “So get in there and be there for your boyfriend of twenty years, and when he suddenly remembers you aren’t his girlfriend anymore, Grovel. Sound like a plan?” She raises an eyebrow, and you tamp down the nerves rising in your chest. You nod cautiously, resolutely, and she loosens her grip on your hand. She still holds it to lead you back to the room, but she stops outside the door to speak one last time.

“I know you love him,” Her voice is softer now, genuinely sweet and caring, “And I also know you like to run when things get scary. And that’s understandable, but it’s not okay, not right now. You can’t stop loving someone just ‘cause you don’t wanna lose ‘em. It’ll hurt worse if you walk away.”

“I know,” You breathe shakily, squeezing her hand, “Thanks, Carole.”

“Anytime, sweetpea,” She smiles, tears still gathered in her eyes, “Now get in there and kiss my son.”

“There they are,” Your dad stands as you reenter the room, “You ladies have a nice bathroom break?”

“‘Had the time of our lives,” Carole nods, letting you take the seat closest to Bradley’s head. Your feet feel burdened with lead weights as you step towards his bedside, and he watches you with worried eyes. You’re sure he knows you weren’t really going to the bathroom, not with the way you’d fled, but you’re glad he’s choosing to pretend for your sake. He seems worried, though, and you curse yourself for making this about you.

“Y/N,” He reaches out for you as soon as you’re in reach, his voice still hoarse. His hand squeezes yours instantly, and you feel for the panic he's probably experiencing. He deserves a shoulder to lean on, a hand to hold, and it should be someone better than you.

“Bradley,” You murmur back, trying to stop your lips from trembling, “I- can I kiss you?”

Carole’s voice rings in your ears, and you don’t have to turn around to know she’s smiling at the two of you. Bradley pauses, then his worried eyes soften and he nods weakly against the pillow.

“Oh,” Nick teases as you brace your hand on Bradley’s bed, leaning down to press a feather-light kiss to his lips, “Lovebirds!”

The kiss is nothing but awkward. It’s hesitant on your end, because you can’t believe you get to do it again. You’d really believed the goodbye kiss you’d shared with Bradley before he picked up dinner for the two of you would be your last one, so fitting your lips over his in the hospital seems like something otherworldly. You’re careful, too, because you don’t want to hurt him, not that you think you could ever smooch him to death. He doesn’t reciprocate much, he can’t, but the familiar prickle of his mustache against your lip is a welcome feeling that makes your heart feel light again, if only for a few seconds.

When you pull away, it’s gone. Because you have to look him in the eyes, the same ones you’d forced tears out of two weeks ago, and pretend like none of it happened at all.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” You gush, voice cracking, and it feels right starting off with the truth. You can get to the lies later, the ugly little abominations you’re cooking up so that he preserves as much mental energy as possible while on bedrest. You know Carole’s right, you know he needs to heal as much as he can before you make it worse with the news, but lying feels so wrong. He’ll find out sooner or later, and what if he really was done with you? What if he hadn’t told his mom so that no family drama erupted, what if it wasn’t because he was going to try to get you back? What if he hated you, and what if he hates you even more when he knows you’re lying through your teeth to him?

“Yeah, I’m okay.” He promises, his fingers curling slowly and carefully around your own, "Are you? You ran off, I was worried."

"I'm fine," You insist, waving away his concern with a shake of your head.

He doesn't seem satisfied with your answer; he can read you like a book. But he accepts your answer, and you admire him for not wanting to pry in front of everyone. He changes the subject, glancing briefly around the hospital room, “Baby my- my phone, can I have my phone?”

“It’s here,” Your dad hands it to him, and Carole watches your eyes widen infinitesimally. What if Bradley sees his text conversations? What if he sees that you haven’t talked in half a month? What if he finds messages from someone on a dating app he’d used, a rebound-in-the-making?

What if he’s changed his background? What if he wants an answer as to why it’s probably some picturesque sunset, a jet plane cutting through the clouds above. Or maybe it’s of Lewis, he’d recently had photos restored of the dog.

What if he notices your contact name is changed to something like ‘Do not answer’? What if he realizes he’s blocked you? What if all of your pictures together are deleted off of his phone, and he wonders why?

There’s a thousand things that could go wrong.

“Coyote called,” Bradley rasps, upon first sight of his screen. Then, “Hangman. Twice. Phoenix, Bob, Fanboy, Payback, I- I should send out a message.”

“I will!” You lunge for your own phone, digging in your back pocket with suspicious urgency, “Uh, I’ll let everyone know, you just- just rest.”

“Okay,” Bradley hesitates for only a second, letting his grip go loose around his phone so that it falls back to the bed.

He seems content to let you do it, if only a little deterred by your insistence. But you’ll play the part of the fussy girlfriend, not wanting her injured love to work harder than he has to.

Nick and Pete take the time that you’re creating a group thread to question Bradley more on his memories, and every answer he gives sets your heart on edge. Your fingers feel numb as you type out ‘Rooster’s stable now, he has a mild concussion and a few broken ribs, but the doctors say he’ll recover fully. His memories are a little hazy from the past few weeks but apparently those will be back soon. I’ll send you any updates we get.’

Before anyone even has a chance to reply, you set the thread on silent. You can’t bear even getting a notification that the message can’t be sent, because you’re sure Bradley’s team aren’t too fond of you right now, and you wouldn’t be surprised if they’d blocked you in solidarity for their friend. But Bradley hadn’t even told his mom, would he have told his team? Would he even need to? Or would they notice the circles beneath his eyes worsening, the stubble adorning his cheeks from a lack of motivation to do anything productive? Or, maybe even worse, would they have seen him with another girl hanging off of his arm at a bar? Would they have caught him out to lunch with a woman and figured it out themselves?

“Hey,” Bradley rasps, effectively breaking your zoned-out worry spiral. Your eyes don’t lose their intensity but they focus on his pale face, and he offers you a weak smile, “Anyone respond?”

“Always the attention seeker,” Nick laughs, creating a distraction so perfect that you don’t bother checking the text to answer Bradley. “Should we tell ‘em to bring flowers too, Brad?”

“Shut up,” Bradley’s voice is far too quiet to be menacing, but it’s the type of teasing he always engages in with his old man, “When you were in the hospital you said I had to draw you one picture a day or you’d think I didn’t love you.”

“And I only got fifteen out of eighteen,” If Goose is capable of a withering stare, it’s what’s directed at Bradley now, “I can’t believe I bought a Bronco for a kid who doesn’t love me.”

“Alright, you two,” Carole swats at her husband’s arm, “Cut it out, don’t overwhelm him.”

“His heart’s beatin’ real fast,” Nick snickers, “But that’s probably ‘cause Miss Mitchell is doting all over him.”

The attention’s back on you, and it means Bradley’s waiting to hear your response. You dry swallow after sending Nick a good-natured eye-roll, trying to act like your heart isn’t beating ten times faster than Bradley’s.

Miraculously, nothing awful awaits you in the group chat. There’s no error messages, no scolding, no pledges of hatred for you, and it makes you think that you really might be able to get away with this for a while. Carole won’t tell, and that doctor said Bradley might not retain his memories for weeks. It’s like everyone has hit undo on what might be your biggest mistake in life, and you don’t know how to take the opportunity.

“Bob says he hopes you recover soon,” You push the panicked fog out of your head, reading in a low voice, “Hangman says he’s gonna give you flying lessons when you get back so that you,” You snort softly, “Get the hang of it, and to that, he is receiving a barrage of middle finger emojis.”

Rooster lets out a laugh, one that’s genuine and thick from his chest. It’s unlike his voice has been so far, it’s not fractured or achy, and the sound warms your heart. Some of the sickly despair that’s been coating your heart like globs of poison dries up, and you almost feel normal again when you slide your hand into his. He holds your back, and it’s like nothing’s ever happened.

You have your Bradley back; the only question is for how long.

Lunch is a sorry state of affairs for Bradley. His tray consists of chicken and gravy that runs into his mashed potatoes, and the jello they give him has a layer of cherry red liquid pooling overtop. You and Carole take turns spoon-feeding the man, giving each other a chance to mow through your sandwiches between bites.

Your dad watches out for the doctors while you sneak Bradley some of your sandwich. It’s cafeteria turkey, and honestly you’d rather go for the chicken on his plate, but he hums gratefully at the spread of mayonnaise and mustard on the bread.

“Thanks, babydoll.” He croons, a smear of mashed potatoes in his mustache that you wipe away with watery eyes at the nickname. He puckers his lips to kiss at your thumb and it’s like you’re at home on his birthday, feeding him in bed and stealing kisses between bites.

Bradley’s eyes start to droop halfway through his watery jello, and your dad stands, brushing sandwich crumbs off of his jeans.

“Alright, buddy,” He squeezes Bradley’s foot reassuringly, “I’ll head out. Probably best to let you sleep. Get some rest, and make her give us updates,” He narrows his eyes at you, accusatory, “I know you’ll be too wrapped up in him to remember we exist, but take some time away from his lips to tell me if he’s still breathing out of ‘em, m’kay?”

“Don’t be makin’ out too much, “Nick goads, standing when Carole grabs his hand and does herself, “His heart rate’ll skyrocket and the nurse is gonna think he’s havin’ a heart attack!”

‘Yes, yes, they love each other very much,” Carole hums, leaning down to kiss Bradley’s forehead. He leans into it but his hand stays in yours, and you gladly accept the same gesture from the woman on your cheek, “Let’s leave him be, okay? Brad, I’m coming back tomorrow morning,” She promises, “Your dad and Pete have some work to do in the backyard, but they’ll join us after lunch.”

The men don’t seem to have known about this yard work until now, and they share equally exasperated groans. 

“And I’ll be here,” You throw in, meeting Carole’s appreciative gaze, “I’ll stay until they throw me out.”

“You could always handcuff yourself to the bed,” Your dad hums, and you pointedly ignore Goose’s comment about the pair of handcuffs you ‘probably keep in your nightstand.’ It gets him a sharp smack upside the head from your dad, and you’re sure Nick will choose a better audience next time.

“We love you,” Carole promises, squeezing Bradley’s arm as he bids her goodbye, “We’ll see you tomorrow, baby!”

“Love you,” Bradley hums, voice less gruff than before now that he’s used it again, “See you tomorrow.”

The entire time he’s been awake, he hasn’t let go of your hand. He turns to you with those sleepy eyes of his, big and brown and begging for a kiss. You lean in before you can stop yourself, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.

His heart rate picks up.

You laugh against his mouth at the increased beeping, and he’s barely sheepish as he nudges his nose against your own. You feel like you’re loving on borrowed time, like any second now he’ll be slammed with the memory of you breaking his heart, stomping all over it like it hadn’t been yours for the past 20 years - maybe all of your life.

“I love you,” He murmurs, squeezing your hand, “Y/N, I- I love you so much. I don’t remember anything,” He’s slurring his words slightly with fatigue, and you kiss the corner of his mouth as he speaks, “But I know you could have lost me forever, and I’m sure it wasn’t easy to handle.”

He has no idea how true his words are. Of course, you’d nearly lost his life to the crash. But two weeks earlier, you’d lost his touch, his voice, his gaze, his love, and you’re grateful the tears that line your eyes look natural.

“Mhm,” You nod, sniffling, “It was- it was hard, Brad.” You admit, thinking back to the night you’d left. You’d checked into a shitty motel for the night, and you’d cried yourself sick in the shower. Even after your stomach was emptied you couldn’t bring yourself to eat for two days afterwards, and you’d only given into the mini fridge after nearly passing out. Your days were long and spent regretting your decision, wondering if you’d ever be happy without him by your side, and worrying that he might be able to.

“I just keep wanting to do it over,” You gush, feeling his hand tighten around your own as you sob, “I- I wanted to take it back, to-” You swallow a sob, remembering your lines, “-to stop you from going to work. If I’d just made you stay…” Your face crumples with a gush of tears you aren’t able to hold back, and you give up on speaking for now.

“Hey, it’s not your fault,” Bradley hums, kissing the space between your nose and your cheek. It’s all he can reach from the way you’re sobbing into his pillow, and you’re thankful for the comfort you might not be able to get soon.

“You couldn’t have changed anything,” He promises, and you nestle your head into his own to absorb his soothing voice, “My plane was still the one with the defect, baby. I would have gone down tomorrow if not today. ‘S only a matter of time.”

A wave of sickness washes over you at his choice of words, and you nod, trying to regain a grip. You lift yourself up from the pillow, neck aching as you crane it to kiss his chin. He smiles at you, his eyes so genuine and sweet that it makes you want to lose your lunch; it’s an expression you don’t deserve anymore, even if you long for it. It’s only a matter of time before he remembers everything, and you don’t know what you’ll do if he doesn’t want you anymore.

“You’re tired,” You hum, and he nods against the pillow, “Sleep, baby. You need rest.” You sniffle, wiping away a tear from your eye more forcefully than you need to. You try to lean back in your chair but Bradley stiffens, and feel him tighten his grip on your hand.

“Please don’t leave me,” He begs, and more of that nausea comes rolling in. They’re the exact words he’d whimpered just next to your ear two weeks ago, keeping the door closed with one hand while the other wound around your waist. Then, you’d wormed your way out of his grip, ripping the door open despite his efforts to stop you and running off to your car. Now though, you meet his eyes, scared and desperate and lost, and you nod, scooting forwards to lay your head on his chest.

“I’ll stay,” You promise, and he raises a hand to brace it against your cheek. You turn your head to kiss his palm, and he strokes a thumb over your face, “I’ll stay, Bradley, I promise.”

The nap that you take on Bradley’s chest is the best sleep you’ve had since you left. Being in his embrace once more practically erases your undereye circles, and it takes you a few seconds after you wake up to remember that anything is out of the ordinary in the first place. Then it all comes flooding back, and you cycle through each stage of grief respectively while still slumped onto the bed. Then you feel a gentle tap on your shoulder, and you realize that Bradley’s nurse has shaken you awake.

“Hi,” The man smiles down at you, “Sorry to interrupt. I’m sure you didn’t want to wake up.”

“Oh,” You laugh hesitantly, slipping out from beneath Bradley’s hand and wiping away a slight glob of drool that had accumulated around the corner of your mouth, “No, no, it’s okay. What time is it?”

“Dinnertime,” Another nurse chimes from by the door, carrying another tray of meat and potatoes for Bradley, “Around six-thirty, Miss Mitchell.”

“You’re welcome to eat here with him,” The first nurse informs you, “But you’ll have to get something from the cafeteria, or order in. And visiting hours end at eight,” He levels you with a sympathetic smile, “But if you’ve got one bite left I won’t kick you out.”

“Thank you,” You chuckle wearily, your voice barely thickened with tears, “I appreciate that. Bradley,” You hum, squeezing his hand and stroking your free one through his hair, “Wake up, baby. They brought you some dinner.”

He comes to groggy, and you don’t blame him. He blinks a few times, then recognition washes over his face as he remembers why he’s there, and hopefully nothing else.

The nurses get busy with moving his bed, pressing buttons on the little remote strapped to the side until he’s inclined enough to eat his meal. The tray hooks into the sides of the bed so that he doesn’t have to hold anything, but you take his fork for him anyways, leaving his hands completely free.

“Thank you,” You nod gratefully at the nurses when they retreat for the door, a smear of mashed potatoes already gathered on the utensil in your hand. Bradley’s happy to let you feed him, humming at the taste of the beef they’ve given him. 

“Better than the chicken,” He hums, his voice gaining back a bit of its grating quality from earlier. He’s usually rough-voiced after a nap, so you don’t worry too much about it. Typically you indulge in his raspy morning voice, but now it seems insensitive. 

“Good,” You croon, scooping mashed potatoes and gravy onto a bite of the beef, “And it doesn’t bother your stomach?”

“What’s there to upset it, salt?” He grumbles around a mouthful, “Barely tastes like anything.”

“Sorry, Brad,” You hum, stroking a stray strand of caramel colored hair back into place, “I’m not supposed to feed you anything else, though.”

“I know,” He relents, lips puckering to kiss your wrist instead of wrapping around the spoon in your hand, “Not your fault, baby. But,” He rears back to takes the bite, chewing thoughtfully while you wait for his next sentence, “Can you bring me cookies tomorrow?”

You laugh, trying to keep it quiet in the slowly darkening hospital room. There’s no one around, and the door is closed, but his voice isn’t loud and you don’t want to overpower him. 

“I just said I wasn’t allowed to feed you anything else,” You roll your eyes affectionately, a teasing gesture you thought you’d never be able to do with the man anymore, “What makes you think I’d bring you cookies?”

“Um, ‘cause you love me?” Bradley drawls, voice finally rising to a healthy volume. Maybe it’s the food in his stomach, or maybe it’s a switch that was suddenly flipped in his chest, but he sounds like himself again.

His words sober your fantasy intoxication, and you smile sadly at him where he lays in his bed. You set the fork down to lay your hand over his cheek, your palm soaking in the warmth of his skin that’s newly returned.

“I do love you,” You promise, leaning in to kiss him. You have to lean over his plate to do so, and you’ll worry later about any potential gravy stains on your shirt. You go slow and gentle, worried that he’ll push you away for reasons he doesn’t remember yet. But he doesn’t. In fact, when you pull away to give him some air, he catches your wrist in a surprising display of agility for his weakened muscles, and you freeze in place.

“I’m sorry,” He murmurs, mustache shifting slightly with his apology, “I can’t stop thinking about you getting that call. I never-” His voice cracks, “I never wanted you to go through that.”

“Me neither,” You feel tears pricking at your eyes again, the same that are shining in Bradley’s, “But you don’t have to be sorry. None of this was your fault, and what matters is that you’re okay now. I have you back, Bradley, I- I didn’t lose you.”

“You’ll never lose me,” He vows, and your lips sting with the force of your bite to repress a sob. 

He lifts his head from his pillow, the first time he’s done it since waking up. He kisses your temple as you try not to cry, lips dotting staccato kisses against your skin as you tremble slightly.

“I promise, baby,” He hums softly into your skin as his hand comes up to hug you, “You won’t lose me.”

“I don’t want to lose you,” You cry, your fist gripping his hospital gown desperately. You want to believe him but it’s not even really Bradley talking, it’s three-weeks-ago Bradley that doesn’t remember you walking out of his life for self-preservation. It’s Bradley that doesn’t know the worst of you yet, but who could remember at any moment and cast you away.

“You won’t, I promise.” He coos, stroking up and down your back. You feel silly, accepting comfort from a hospital patient who went down in a fighter jet less than 24 hours ago, but you feel even sillier that it's the same man you’d torn to shreds days prior. But he’s comforting you, he’s rubbing your back, he’s kissing your face, and he’s promising you that you’ll never lose him, so you let him, because you love hearing him lie, even if he doesn't know he's doing it. 

“You promise?” You look up at him with watery eyes that blur out his face, but you see him nod. It’s unfair to ask, not when he doesn’t have the knowledge to truly promise. He cranes his neck forwards to bump noses with you, letting you cry against his skin.

“I do, honey.” He nods, holding you close like you’d never left at all,  “I promise.”

Going from crying into each other’s embraces back to eating bland mashed potatoes is hard, but you ease Bradley into it with a bite of granola bar you’d found in your purse. He’s grateful for something with flavor, and you’re glad to finally be rid of the half-eaten snack. 

“Oatmeal raisin cookies, please,” Bradley begs as he chews the snack, going as far as to bat his pretty lashes at you, brown eyes shiny with hope. 

You scoff, wiping a tear away from your face with a fond, albeit trembling smile, “Okay, Brad. Oatmeal raisin.”

“You’re the best,’ He hums, grinning with a mouthful of oats and chocolate. You check your phone to find that you’ve only got twenty minutes left until visiting hours are over, and your eyes dim as you glance back up at him.

“I have to go soon,” You lament, “Visiting hours are over in twenty.”

His face fades from its pretty smile, some of the newfound color draining from his skin once more. You’re sure he’ll have a nightmare tonight, something about jet crashes and dying alone, and you hate leaving him here so vulnerable.

“I’m sorry, baby,” You sniffle, squeezing his hand, “They open back up at 8 tomorrow, so as soon as I make those cookies I’ll be back, I promise.”

“I know,” He nods, raising your intertwined hands to kiss at your wrist, “It’s okay. Not your fault.”

“I’d stay overnight if I could.”

“I’d sneak you into my bed,” Bradley grins sadly, “S’alright, baby, just get a good night’s sleep. You deserve it after today.”

“You too,” You squeeze his hand, smiling sweetly at him, “And if you have a nightmare, text me, and I’ll crawl through the window, ‘promise.”

He laughs again, and now that he’s got most of his strength back it’s a normal sound. It’s not weak, it’s not subdued, it’s perfect. It’s Bradley.

“I’d like to see you try,” He teases, and you wipe a smear of chocolate off of his lower lip, remembering the first time you’d ever done that with a fond smile.

“I’m on the sixth floor.” He reminds you, and you shrug, sucking the chocolate off of your finger.

“Meh,” You crumble up the granola bar wrapper in your fist, “I could scale that easy.”

“Oh, really? Yeah, I bet you could,” Bradley chuckles, “You’re Spider-Man, suddenly? Sticking to walls? I must have forgotten your transformation.”

“Yeah, you did,” You grin with a laugh, “Actually, while I rushed over here to see you, a truck full of radioactive spiders crashed, and I got bitten by one. You’ve missed a lot, Brad.”

“Right,” Bradley’s brows raise, eyes alight with amusement, “Those radioactive spider trucks are a real nuisance, I hear.”

Giggling sweetly with him feels normal. The kind of normal you crave, the kind that isn’t settled for, but yearned for. And you’re clinging to it, pushing the truth out of your mind and playing the part perfectly.

A knock on the door interrupts your gigglefest and you turn in time to see the nurse from before entering, a bittersweet smile on his face. 

“I’m supposed to kick you out,” He jokes, holding Bradley’s chart, “And you’re free to sleep whenever, Mr. Bradshaw, we don’t need to conduct any more tests tonight. You’re just here to be monitored."

“Alright,” Bradley nods and you stand, still clasping his hand in yours. The doctor busies himself with straightening up the chairs around the bed, and you take the privacy he so kindly grants you.

“Sleep good,” You recite your pre-bedtime deployment sendoff to Bradley, the phrase having gathered dust in the back of your head since his last overseas assignment, “Sweet dreams, and call me when you can.”

“I will,” Bradley leans up to kiss you, going for your lips, then your cheek, then your chin, “You too, baby. Get some rest. I’m okay, I promise.”

“Yeah,” You beam down at him, smoothing his hair away from his forehead, “You’re okay, Brad.”

"See you tomorrow!" He calls as you leave, and you turn to nod.

"See you tomorrow, baby." You promise once more, hand on the door handle, "Goodnight."

“Sleep well, Mr. Bradshaw,” The nurse bids Bradley goodbye with a smile and a nod as you trail out behind him, and at the click of the door behind the two of you, it’s like you’re the recovering amnesia patient. Now that Bradley’s not there anymore, not smiling at you, not telling you he loves you, it’s like you can’t be sure of anything, like you’re still that imposter you’d been when you’d first stepped in. You come to the sickening realization, only after the fact, that you'd loved lying to Bradley, and it makes you feel worse. Your reverie is shattered, and the nurse beside you notices your shaky breathing as you trail down the hallway.

“Miss, are you okay?” His brows furrow in concern, and you nod.

“Yeah, just-” You smooth your hands down your pants, your palms sweaty, “It’s a lot. Being in there, seeing him like- like that. I guess I wasn’t prepared.”

“No one is,” The nurse smiles sympathetically at you, leading you to an elevator, “But he’s right, Miss Mitchell. He’ll be alright. And hopefully, his memories will restore themselves overnight. There’s a good chance he’ll wake up remembering it all.”

You’re sure that was meant to soothe you, but it’s only sent more nausea rolling through your body. You nod, forcing a smile as the doors shut between you, “Thank you, Nurse.”

Once the doors shut, you want to burst into tears. You don’t want the reception desk to see that, though, so you rush through the motions of leaving, practically running to your car. Once you’re safely inside the floodgates open, and you’re surprised you don’t trigger the horn from how hard you’re sobbing against the steering wheel.

You try to channel Bradley’s voice, ‘I promise baby, you won't lose me.’ but it makes things worse, it piles guilt on top of your sickness and makes you want to run away again. Because he’d promised you that he’d never leave you, not that he’d ever let you come back if you’d left him. And that’s what you’re worried about now.

Running away hadn’t stopped anything bad from happening, it just made you feel worse when bad things did happen. Thankful for your second chance, you swear to yourself in the stuffy silence of your car that you’ll do anything to fix this, and that you’re not going to fuck this up again because you’re scared. Love is scary, giving yourself completely to another person is scary, but Bradley’s always been good at soothing your fears, and there’s no one you’d rather give yourself to.

You steel yourself as you prepare to drive back to your motel, but second-guess it when you remember that Bradley has his phone with him. You have each other shared on Find My Friends, and he doesn’t normally check it unless he’s worried about your safety, but you’re paranoid that he’ll find your pin at a crappy motel and know something is wrong. So you punch in Bradley’s address instead, the one you used to share with him, still labeled as ‘home’, and set off.

The drive looks familiar in no time, and it reminds you of how much you’d missed it. The big oak tree on your neighbor’s lawn, the flag perpetually at half-mast because the man across the street fell while adjusting it and never fixed it, the tricycle on the sidewalk beside your front door that the toddler next door always seemed to leave on your walkway. You check the mail and feel something stabbing at your chest when your name is on one of the letters, and your house key is cold with disuse as you slide it into the slot.

You hesitate when the doorknob turns beneath your fingers. Walking into Bradley’s space will tell you exactly how he feels about what happened between you. There’s either going to be empty bottles strewn everywhere with pictures laying around covered in tear stains, or there’s going to be a hot pink bra in his bed, and a new woman’s makeup kit in his bathroom. Hell, maybe she’ll even still be there, maybe you’re about to walk in on your replacement.

But the promise you’d made to yourself in the car wasn’t for show, and you turn the knob after taking a deep breath, stepping into the darkened home.

You call out an uncertain ‘hello?’ into the place, waiting with bated breath for a woman’s voice to respond. But it never does, and you flick the light on beside the door.

You’d been right with one of your guesses.

It’s messy. Not exactly the outwardly disastrous type of messy you’d imagined earlier, but knowing all of the little things about Bradley means that you know he’s let himself go over the past two weeks. His running shoes are gathering dust by the door, which seems to suggest that he’s been lazing in bed just like you have. The living room is pristine, the pillows all arranged the way you set it up that Bradley doesn’t care to replicate, and you wonder if he’s sat on the couch at all the entire time since you’ve been gone. There’s no grocery list on the fridge and upon further inspection, the appliance is close to empty, one lonely beer left alongside ketchup, mustard, and a rotting head of lettuce. Unless he was eating the worst burgers known to man, you don’t think he’s been eating anything from the kitchen. Your heart aches for Bradley; you hope he’s been ordering food in.

Walking through the space is like revisiting a crime scene as the killer. Everything here is because of you, the pictures stripped from the walls are gone because of you, the lonely toothbrush in the dual holder is because of you, the neatly made side of the bed with its messy counterpart is because of you. 

You realize that it’s your side that’s slept on, Bradley’s still tucked neatly in place, unused. You spot a red covering over your pillow, reaching for it and finding it to be an old t-shirt of yours that Bradley had raided your dresser drawers for. It’s one he’d bought you at a tourist trap on your vacation a few years ago, and it was your favorite to lounge in. You notice a dark spot on the fabric and only then realize that you’re crying, that it’s a tear that had fallen from your eye. Then it’s like everything hits you all at once, and you sink onto the mattress clutching the pillow. It smells like Bradley, and you know he’s been clinging to it every night, a thought that solidifies your sneaking suspicion that you might be the worst person on the planet.

You curl up and cry there, you don’t know for how long. All you can do is sob, soak your pillow with tears that you thought you were out of, clutch the bedsheets like they’ll reveal Bradley, hidden underneath and eager for a cuddle. This bed feels as empty as the motel’s had, maybe even emptier, because you’ve never slept in it away from Bradley. When he’s on deployment you always have a sweatshirt of his and a picture of him tucked under the pillow, but you know it won’t be there now. Now you’re alone, really alone. 

Your eyes droop and you know you need sleep, especially if you’re going to wake up early to make Bradley cookies in time for visiting hours to start. But you can’t bring yourself to sleep without the picture of him under his pillow, so you stumble out of bed to fetch it from your box of memories.

Your fingers close around the slightly wrinkled photo, a shot of you in a gown and Bradley in a suit. It’s one you’d taken yourself at your graduation, high school turned college sweethearts. He had wanted admission into the Naval Academy, but in order to spend more time with you, you’d enrolled together at a university. It’s your favorite photo to have with you, and you reach out to Bradley’s pillow to slide it underneath. Upon lifting the pillow, you find a stack of pictures already there. Each one of you, most with Bradley pictured in them too. They only make you cry harder, and you recognize some as the inserts of the picture frames that had been taken down from the hallway.

It looks like Bradley hoarded photos of you, and some are stiff and stained with tears. The sight is something out of a movie, a dramatic indication of the inner turmoil of its main character. You see a shot of your silhouettes together, faces darkened by the sun streaming in behind you. You’re kissing on the beach, and without paying much mind to the structural integrity of the photo, you clutch it to your chest.

You’re a wreck. You just want your Bradley back, but your Bradley isn’t yours anymore. You want three-weeks-ago Bradley back, the one who you didn’t run away from. But he’ll probably have his memories back by tomorrow, and there’s no telling if he’d even want you to visit again. Looking at the sorry state of his apartment, you know he misses you, but whether he wants you back is another question altogether. All you can do is wait and worry, and worry you do. As you sob and heave in the bed, your brain shuts down, and eventually you drift into a dreamless, unpleasant sleep, nose still buried in your shirt that smells like Bradley.

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

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[foreverrandomwritings]

Oral Fixation

Summary: The five times Bradley takes note of your oral fixation. Then the one time he decides to say something to you. (I was watching both Legally Blonde movies when writing this last night so it turned out kind of pink)

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x afab!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, rough deployments, insecurities, alcohol, bars, clubs, sex MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY.

Word count: 3660

Masterlist

One

The first time you met was also coincidentally the first time he noticed your oral fixation. You had been transferred into fightertown from an overseas position. You were a new Psychologist and had been tasked with going around to pretty much everyone on base to inquire about their desire for a therapist. You had found most of the dagger squad in the rec room. Payback, Fanboy and Coyote were all up in the sky and the rest of them were lounging around the room. 

Bradley had turned his head away from the movie on the tv in front of him at the sound of your closed toe pink heels clicking along the tiles of the ground. His eye’s worked their way up from your feet, to your light gray slacks up to the pretty pink silk button up tucked away inside of them. When his eyes finally landed on your face you had been sucking on your cheek. As your eyes connected to his own you let go of your cheek and gave him a sheepish smile. 

“Hi, I’m the new clinical psychologist on base. Vice Admiral Simpson suggested I go around and introduce myself.” You stuck out your hand expectantly. He gave you a smirk wrapping his much larger hand around your own. 

“Bradley Bradshaw, callsign Rooster, Ma’am.” His hand was still clasped with your own, but you didn’t seem to mind. The screams of victory from Phoenix and Bob as they won a game of foosball against Yale and Harvard had your hands separating reluctantly. 

“Here’s my card.” You pulled a stack of them out of your pants pocket. Slipping one out of the pink rubber band they were wrapped in you handed him the small white rectangle. 

“I already have a therapist off base. But is there any way I can call you for dinner?” The boldness of his question had your cheeks heating. You pulled your lip between your teeth, debating how to respond to him. 

“I don’t see why that would be a problem.” You gave him a sweet smile before slipping away from him and working to the other aviators in the room. He watched your every move admiring the way you so easily conversed with the group. He noticed your eyes light up when you got to Hangman and his lips pulled into a frown. He couldn’t hear what you were saying as the two of you were on the other side of the room. 

Jake reached into one of his pockets and pulled out a small container of toothpicks. He shook one out and handed it to you with a smirk. You said something to him before passing him one of your cards and taking the toothpick from him. Bradley watched you place the little piece of spearmint wood between your teeth. Your shoulders relaxed as you closed your lips around the object. Then you were walking his way again and he quickly flicked his eyes back to the tv not wanting to get caught staring. But you had felt his eyes on you the whole time you were in the room. 

Two 

The second time he notices your oral fixation is while you are about a month into dating. He had asked you to go to the hard deck with him. It’s a slow night so you are sitting at the bar talking to Penny. Bradley is at a table with Natasha while she goes on about the double date she and Bob just went on the night before. He was only half listening however. His eyes were focused on your form clad in a pair of high waisted light wash ripped skinny jeans and a bright pink cropped tank top. 

Penny had a customer so she had been helping them which had left you alone briefly. You plucked the cherry from the bottom of your glass and pulled the fruit off the stem. You chewed it quickly before slipping the stem into your mouth. You absentmindedly worked the stem around your mouth as you scanned the bar. Your eyes met Bradleys and you gave him a toothy grin showing him the knot you had made proudly. He sent you a wink and a thumbs up. 

“Are you even paying attention to me?” Natasha huffed out at him dramatically. He turned to his best friend sat across from him and gave her an apologetic look. 

“I’m sorry about that. What were you saying about your date?” The female aviator rolled her eyes before continuing her story. He listened more intently this time actually nodding along and conversing with her as she spoke.

“I’m gonna go grab another beer. You want one too?” He asked her as he stood up, their conversation had ended a moment ago and they had just sat in comfortable silence. But Bradley was desperate to be next to you so he could take in the smell of your floral perfume. Natasha grunted in response, handing him the empty bottle she had been peeling the label from. 

“Hi there cherry blossom.” The long nickname had stuck like glue when he had first laid eyes on the pink flowers tattooed across your back. 

“Roos.” You giggled at him, the silver chain with a single delicate pearl around your neck moving along with your chest. 

“Are you drunk?” His eyes took in the knotted stem filled napkin beside you. He knew Penny had to have been doubling the cherries with the amount he saw. 

“Just a little tipsy. Penny makes amazing drinks, Roos.” You punctuated the sentence by taking a sip of your drink loudly. Bradley let out a laugh at your dramatic show, shaking his head playfully. As you pulled the glass away from your lips a few drops fell along your chin. He moved his thumb up quickly, swiping the drops away. He was going to wipe it off on his jeans but you pulled his thumb up to your mouth and sucked his thumb between your lips. You gave it a small bite before pulling your mouth away.

“Feel like taking a walk to the Bronco with me real quick.” He blinked at you slowly as you uttered the words. 

“Uh yea... Yeap. That sounds good.” He all but dragged you out of the bar, his and Natasha’s drinks forgotten. You eagerly pushed him into the backseat before climbing in beside him. He experienced the best blow job of his life that night. 

Three

The third time he noticed your oral fixation was when he had walked into your office on your lunch break. You were sitting at your desk biting off pieces of twizzlers aggressively. You hadn’t noticed Bradley yet so he sat in the doorway admiring the way you looked. Your eyes were narrowed at your paper and your pen gilded across it making harsh marks along it. 

“You’re gonna rip your paper if you press any harder.” Your hand came up to your chest quickly, eyes widening. 

“Bradley, I didn’t hear you come in.” You glanced at your watch, sat upon your wrist and flenched. Eye’s slowly moved from the screen up to your boyfriend. 

“I didn’t realize what time it was. I’m trying to get through some patient notes. I’m so sorry.” You were supposed to meet him in the cafeteria and have lunch with him there. But you had just had a group come back from a rough deployment and had been swamped with paperwork from their sessions. 

“It’s alright. I knew work has been rough lately so I figured I’d bring lunch to you.” He held up the bag that you had worked together to pack the night before.

“What would I do without you?” You asked him as you rolled your chair back standing up and coming around the desk. Bradley closed the door and moved farther into the room. He opened up your cabinet where you had hidden a microwave and popped in your pasta. 

“You’d be left severely unsatisfied.” You hummed at the double meaning sitting down on the couch usually left for patients to sit on. 

“How was work today?” You questioned him sweetly, smoothing out the material of your checkered pink pencil skirt. 

“Went pretty well. We’re going over a new manual for a few tester planes we might get the chance to fly.” You had heard rumors around the base that the aviators were going to get some cool new toys to play with soon. The microwave alerted Bradley, it was done and he pulled the food out of it before closing the cabinet back. 

“Here you go.” You took the food from him eagerly as he held it out for you. Spinning the pasta around on your fork before taking a large bite. You both sat and ate in silence enjoying the other's company and the good food. As you took the last bite of your pasta you held the plastic fork to your lips. The prongs slipped between your lips and you started to slowly gnaw on the material. Your watch furiously buzzed where it was sitting on your wrist. That seemed to jerk you from your thoughts. You looked at the clock hanging on the wall opposite you and groaned. 

“I’ve got a patient coming in five minutes and I still need to pull everything up from our last session. I hate to cut this short but I’m gonna have to kick you out.” Your lips were set in a pout as you gazed at him. He closed the gap between you, giving you a few quick pecks on your lips before pulling away, listening to you whine pathetically as he did. 

“That’s alright pretty girl. I’ve gotta get back to the hangar anyways.” He stood up and grabbed your container before slipping them both into the lunch box. He grabbed your fork as well and went to throw it away, taking note of the teeth marks embedded in the plastic. He’d have to ask you about your constant need for oral stimulation one day. 

Four

The fourth time he notices your oral fixation he kinda blames it on you being drunk. You’re out celebrating your friend's birthday at a club and Bradley had volunteered to be the designated driver that night for you and your three friends. You were going through shots like it was your job. He had sat at a booth in the corner keeping an eye on you guys as well as keeping an eye on your stuff sat on the table top. 

You had bumped into Jake at some point through the night and had conned him into giving you some of his toothpicks. You had then proceeded to chew through all of them in under an hour. Bradley watched you throw away the last one as it had snapped between your teeth with a pout on your lips. You then scanned the crowd quickly before your eyes landed on him and your face lit up. He watched you weave through the sea of dancing bodies quickly before you were sliding into the booth next to him. 

“How can I help you, pretty girl?” Your already warm cheeks warmed even more at the compliment. 

“You’re so handsome, Roos. Have I told you that already?” You hiccuped as you took his hand in your own. 

“Doesn’t matter much if I did. I’ll tell you till I can’t breathe anymore.” You looked at him with hooded eyes as you brought his hand to your mouth and started to work your soft lip gloss coated lips across the rough skin in open mouthed kisses. 

“You’re smearing your lip gloss everywhere cherry blossom.” He didn’t mind that you were getting it on his skin but he knew you’d be a little upset with the way the pink glitter was coating your face. 

“It’s alright.” You threw his arm over your shoulder and sidled up next to him. He groaned as you laid your lips on his neck. You nipped and licked at the skin languidly. 

“Come on, it’s girls night. He’s not here for you to play vampire with.” You pulled away from him slowly at your friend's words. 

“I’m taking this.” You plucked the small black straw from his glass of Coke, before slipping from the booth. You adjusted your glittery pink dress as you stood and wiped your lip gloss off your face with a napkin. You placed the straw between your lips and gave him a wink. 

You shimmed your way between two of your friends and danced with them for a while. Your teeth chewed on the straw as you lost yourself to the songs. Eventually your friends slipped back to the bar and you took the opportunity to slip back to your mustached boyfriend. He was going to playfully scold you for leaving your friends again but you didn’t give him a chance. 

You scooted into the booth and planted your lips against his. He brought one of his hands up to rest against your face as you pulled his bottom lip between your teeth and sucked on it for a moment. He thought briefly about where your straw had gone but his thoughts were cleared as you slipped your tongue between his lips. Drunk you just couldn’t keep your mouth busy enough it seemed. But he wasn’t complaining one bit. 

Five

The fifth time he had noticed your oral fixation had been one of the funniest. You were both covered in sea water sitting inside an ice cream shop that was along the strip of shops on the coast of the beach. You had gotten done with your ice cream cone way before the tall man sat beside you. He had insisted on getting the largest size they had. You told him you were worried about it melting everywhere but he had shooed you off. 

“I’m gonna go get some gum.” You had spotted a gumball machine when you had first walked into the a/c filled building. 

You dug out a few quarters from your purse and inserted them into the slot. You turned it a couple times before lifting the flap. The handful of pink gumballs filled your hand and you hummed in delight. As you sat back at the table with your boyfriend you slipped two gumballs into your mouth. You chewed on them animatedly, occasionally telling him about something funny that had happened in the show you were watching.

“Fuck.” He had been much slower with his ice cream than he expected and it had started to melt all over his hand.

“Oh here let me get that.” He thought you were gonna reach for a napkin but instead you pulled his fingers to your lips. You popped each one into your mouth, licking all the Chocolate and sprinkles off his fingers. He gave you a bewildered look as you nibbled on each finger tip gently. 

“There ya go all clean.” You seemed proud of yourself for the way you cleaned him off. You grabbed a napkin out of the silver napkin holder and wiped his mustache clean as well. 

“Thank you pretty girl.” You gave him a toothy grin before popping another pink ball into your mouth. You continued on with the funny story you were telling him and he continued to eat his ice cream. Neither of you mentioned what just happened. 

Six

The sixth time he noticed your oral fixation was also the time he decided to ask you about it. It had been the morning after a few intense rounds of sex. You had been out of town for a week at a conference and had just gotten back and the night had been passionate. He had woken up before you which wasn’t a surprise, the jet lag from the trip paired with the activities of the prior night had caught up with you quickly. He slipped on  a pair of his shorts he grabbed from the floor. Then he went into the bathroom to brush his teeth. His sleepy eyes took in his shirtless form in the mirror and dropped his toothbrush into the sink. 

There were blue, purple, green and red marks all over his chest, neck and arms. Some of them looked like hickies, others looked like teeth marks. His finger came to run across every mark he could see. He was used to the occasional mark after sex with you but this was another level for the two of you. But he didn’t mind one bit. He was actually ecstatic to have the marks splayed along his body. 

His mind flashed to a tiktok he had seen recently about something called an oral fixation. He thought back to all the times he realized your need for oral stimulation. All the dots seemed to connect as he recalled the information from the short video. He decided to do some research before making breakfast for the both of you. He sat downstairs with his laptop for almost an hour taking notes occasionally in a notebook he kept around the house. 

After about an hour his stomach started to rumble and he closed his laptop. He slipped on an old navy crew neck he grabbed from the dryer before starting on the French toast, eggs and bacon. He knew you’d be hungry after your intense session last night so he made plenty of food. He was just getting done with your matcha latte when you made your way into the kitchen. You had on a pink babydoll nightgown and your hair was a mess. 

“Smells good in here.” You told him as a yawn slipped past your lips. He gave you a peck on the lips when you wrapped your arms around his middle and laid your chin on his chest. 

“I’m almost done with your matcha latte. Why don’t you go sit down and eat?” He nodded his head over to the kitchen island. You puckered your lips at him, batting your lashes at him lazily. He placed his lips upon yours once more before you slipped out of his arms. He landed a smack on your ass as you walked away causing you to gasp. 

He was sitting on a stool next to you after a couple of minutes. You moaned as you put the first bite of French toast in your mouth. He felt pride swell in his chest as the thought of you loving his food so much. He had learned everything he knew from his mother so it always made him happy when you showed how much you enjoyed it. The many cookbooks in the pantry held so many recipes that you were more than pleased to try. 

You guys conversed easily, talking about your seperate week. You took another long sip from your latte as you fixed your eyes on him. He was telling you a funny story about something stupid Maverick had said. You hadn’t realized you had zoned out until Bradley laid a hand on your leg. You stopped chewing on the rubber bit wrapped around the tip of your metal straw. Eyes refocusing on the man in front of you. 

“Do you have an oral fixation cherry blossom?” Bradley felt bad saying it so bluntly when you stopped drinking your match latte and pulled the straw out of your mouth. Your eyes focused on the floor beneath your pink slipper clad feet. You played with the hem of your night dress giving him a nonchalant shrug. 

“It’s okay if you do babe. I just gotta know what I can do to help you.” His finger hooked under your chin bringing your face up so he could see it. 

“It’s something that started as a kid. I normally do it unconsciously. Most of the time it’s when I’m stressed out, tired or need something to do.” You had been told by people before how weird it was. You were constantly chewing on random stuff, eating or chewing gum. Sometimes when you were with a partner you liked to give them love bites. It hadn’t crossed your mind however that you hadn’t told Bradley about the quirk. 

“I love you very much and you are valid to need to stimulate yourself. I’m not judging you. I did some research on it this morning while you slept. Just in case you did, I’d understand it better.” He could tell you were feeling uncomfortable thinking he was making fun of you. You were speechless at his words. No one had ever gone out of their way to understand your unique way of needing stimulation. 

“I’m guessing from what I learned this morning that the marks you left on me last night was your need to feel close to me and grounded during the vigorous activities.” You cocked your head to the side looking down at his shirt. You noticed some hickey marks along his neck but those were pretty normal for the pair of you. He reached for the hem of his crew neck and pulled it up. You gasped a hand coming up to your lips as you looked at the marks decorating his tanned skin. 

“Oh Bradley I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” You carefully placed a hand on one especially harsh mark on his chest. 

“It doesn’t hurt, pretty girl. I like that you were comfortable enough with me to be able to stimulate yourself the way you needed to.” He gave you a reassuring smile as he dragged his shirt back down. 

“If you want we can go for another round. You can leave some on my back too.” His eyes held mischief as he looked at you.

“I love you so fucking much.” You giggled before launching yourself out of your stool and collided with the solid mass that was your boyfriend. You were on cloud nine from the open communication from the man you were lucky enough to call your own. 

A/N: I had a lot of fun writing this. Likes, comments and reblogs are very much appreciated. 

Tags(open): @wkndwlff​ @sylviebell​ @eternallyvenus​ @loving-and-dreaming​ @princess76179​ @kmc1989​ 

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[lcahwriter]

“Bradshaw’s Girl”

Pairing: Platonic Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader, and Bradley“Rooster”Bradshaw x reader (non descriptive reader, no use of Y/N)

Word Count: 1.6k

TW: Cat-calling, creepy dude, swearing

Summary: You’re dating Bradley, but when he’s not there to protect you, Jake is. 

“You know whose girl that is? Bradley Bradshaw’s.”

Authors Note: Just a fun oneshot for everyone. You all know Im a slut for protective men :)))) Hope you enjoy :)

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The large sandy beach was packed with people. Everywhere you looked you saw sweaty bodies in swimsuits. Some people were laying in the sand like you- others were swimming or eating their weight in ice cream from the nearby Snack-Shack.

You made the trek to the beach when Rooster invited you to come watch him play volleyball with his pilot friends. You gladly accepted, looking forward to seeing your sweaty boyfriend shirtless for a few hours.

He looked fucking gorgeous, just as you were expecting. His muscles were glistening with sweat. Your eyes followed every line and dimple on his body until there was nothing else left to inspect. His body was killer, but god damnit, his smile with that heavenly laugh- now that was deadly.

You sighed and laid back on your elbows, planting them in the sand. You were wearing a tiny bikini so that your body was on full display- partly for sun tanning and partly to tease the shit out of Rooster. You were a good 30 feet from the volleyball game – but you could see Bradley sneaking glances at you.

You caught his eye and waved at him, only for him to get hit in the chest with a volleyball seconds later. He grimaced in pain and you busted out laughing immediately.

“Pay attention Bradshaw!” Yelled Coyote, slapping Bradley behind the head.

“Can’t help myself.” He said smugly. He shot you a toothy smile and turned his head back to the game.

You felt your stomach grumble and let out a low rumbling sound. You were fucking starving, and the ice cream everyone was chowing down on looked like the perfect treat.

You stood up and wiped the sand off your butt and legs the best you could. You slipped on jean shorts and glanced back at the volleyball game. Bradley was engrossed in the competition now- and he somehow looked even more sweaty than before.

You trudged to the light blue Snack Shack, determined to find ice-cream. You walked up to the shack and looked up at the weathered menu. The place was crowded, and there were groups of people all around you. You saw groups of girls your age, families with babies and toddlers – and retired couples all around.

Your eyes wandered to the left of you where a group of men around your age were gathered in a circle eating ice-cream. You made eye contact with one of the men, causing you to look away immediately.

You crossed your arms over your chest self-consciously and inched forward in the line. You could feel the group staring at you.

“Hey baby, I saw you lookin at me.” The mans voice was so fucking cocky, it made you want to punch him in the face. You pretended you didn’t hear him and bit the inside of your cheek nervously. You could hear the men laughing at their friend for being ignored.

You sighed and stepped further up in line away from the group. You fucking hated college aged boys. Always hanging out in groups – always trying to get laid. It was disgusting really. You felt relieved when you finally made it to the window to order your ice cream.

You giddily took the large ice-cream cone from the worker. Your mouth was watering before you even took your first lick of it.

You started licking the ice-cream and turned around to go back towards your tanning spot. You hadn’t forgotten about the unwanted attention from the group standing nearby, so you kept your head down as you walked past them.

“Aw come on baby don’t leave in such a rush!”  The same man from before called out behind you. The speed you were walking increased, and your heart started to beat faster.

“Hey! I’m talking to you!” He was catching up with you now, you could hear his feet padding in the sand. You came to a complete halt and turned around angrily.

“Fuck off, I’m not interested.” You seethed. Normally you would never confront a man who was harassing you- but you were in a very public place – and you were supremely pissed off.

“I saw you checking me out.” He countered back. You took in his greedy brown eyes and stout build. You shook your head at him in disbelief.

“It’s called taking in my surroundings, idiot.” Your ice cream was melting in your hand now, but you didn’t dare keep licking it since you knew the man would have something disgusting to say about it. He inched towards you, causing you to immediately shuffle backwards.

“You have a dirty mouth, don’t you? Let me take you—” Before he could finish his sentence you felt someone come up behind you. You jumped and looked back to see Jake eyeing the man in front of you. Relief settled over you.

“Shit where did you get that ice cream? It looks delicious.” His voice was friendly, but he quickly glanced down at you with concerned eyes. You didn’t know him well, but you knew that Bradley trusted him with his life. You subconsciously stepped closer to the tall blonde.

“Hey man, we were actually in the middle of something.”

You scoffed at him and shook your head. Men were un-fucking-believable. As much as you wanted to talk back to him, you knew Jake had a better shot of diffusing the situation.

“Oh were you? That’s too bad.” Jake said, his voice now laced with sarcasm. He started to guide you away, his hand lightly touching the top of your shoulder as you both turned.

“Don’t act like a fucking whore if you aren’t willing to give it up.” The man sneered. You ignored his comment and kept walking, but Jake stayed still. Fuck. Before you could stop him, he turned around.

“You look familiar, you in the Navy?” Jake asked, his head tilting slightly. You watched as the strangers face paled at Jakes comment.

“Hmm, I’ll take that as a yes.” Jake stepped closer to the man. You stayed behind him; your body now frozen in fear of Jake setting off this temperamental idiot.

“Well, you know whose girl that is?” Jake pointed back at you. “Bradley Bradshaw’s.”

“I don’t know him.” The stranger said. You noticed his greasy fists were balled at his sides.

“Well, he would be really pissed off if he knew you were bothering his girl.” Jake threatened. “And honestly, you’re really starting to piss me off too.” Jakes usual playful voice was now twisted with anger.

“What are you going to do about it?” the stranger challenged, taking a full step towards the both of you. You swore under your breath. Jake moved completely in front of you, blocking your whole body from the creep.

“Do you really want to find out?”

You peaked your head around Jakes tall frame. The man looked at Jake, and then to you- and finally back to Jake.

“You’re not worth my time anyway.” He sneered. You weren’t sure if he was referencing you or Jake. But it didn’t matter anymore, because he turned to walk away.

“Fuck.” You said, letting out the huge breath you’d been holding in. “Thank you. I tried to tell him to fuck off but obviously that didn’t work.”

“Yeah, he’s a piece of work.” Jake mocked in his usual joking tone. He motioned towards the volleyball court and started walking. “And no problem sunshine, I could tell something was up.”

You gave him a small smile and tried to clean up all the ice-cream that melted over your hands. Fucking asshole had to ruin your ice-cream too.

You twisted your lips with the realization that you had just been harassed at the beach, when all you were trying to do was get ice-cream. You looked down at your swimsuit and couldn’t help but want to cover up.

You were about to part ways with Jake and go to your beach bag when a very sweaty Bradley approached you both.

He was all smiles, but when you and Jake didn’t immediately return the same enthusiasm, he frowned.

“What’s up?” Your boyfriend asked, his eyes slightly narrowed. You sighed in frustration.

“Nothing.” You said, not wanting to ruin a perfectly good day any longer. Now Jake was the one scoffing.

“Try again.” Jake said, looking at you with his arms crossed. You shot him a death glare. Bradley was looking between you both in confusion. He had never seen you and Jake interact this much before, which probably confused him further.

“Some asshole was harassing her.” Jake said in annoyance. You watched as Bradley’s eyes grew wide with anger, and then with concern.

“Did he touch you?” Bradley’s eyes were dark, and his bare chest was turning red with anger. You shook your head immediately.

“No baby. He was just saying gross things.” You mumbled. “Jake stopped him before he could do anything.”

Jake smiled proudly and you rolled your eyes.

“I’ll point him out to you if I see him on base tomorrow.” Jake looked at Bradley with devious eyes.

“Please don’t. He’s not worth that kind of attention.” You said, licking the last bit of your ice-cream cone. “I am pissed about my ice-cream melting though.” You looked at the cone sadly and grimaced at the stickiness on your hands.

Both men seemed to ignore your request and continued on with their plan.

“Well thank- you Hangman.” Bradley said, a small smile on his face. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“Sounds like a date.” Jake slapped Bradley on the shoulder and walked past you both.

You let out a big sigh and leaned your head against Bradley’s tall frame.

“You okay sweetheart?” He asked, wrapping his arm around your bare shoulders. You finally relaxed and let your shoulders slouch.

“I’m okay.” You said back. “Let’s just go home?”

Bradley’s warm eyes looked down at you. They were a mix of concerned and tired. He leaned down to kiss you on top of your head.

“Lets do it baby.”

*********************************************************************

Let me know what you think! All the support helps :) I am taking requests.

#jake seresin #bradley bradshaw #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster x reader #hangman x reader #hangman onshot #rooster oneshot #protective hangman #protective jake seresin #protective rooster #top gun maverick #top gun fan fiction

[heliads]

I’d like to request an imagine where the female reader is a baker and Rooster’s girlfriend. She owns a bakery called The Slice is Right (it’s a pun. The Slice is Right = The Price is Right). She has a YouTube channel where she gets her Twitter followers to vote on what should be added to the menu and she bakes the winning vote and gets Rooster to try it and give his opinion.

Dating Rooster and Owning a Bakery Would Include...

masterlist

Of all of the people that he’s met over the course of his tumultuous, chaotic life, Rooster never expected to fall in love with a baker

He’d always assumed he’d charm some actress or supermodel (so he bragged to Hangman, at least)

However, when he accidentally stumbled by your bakery one evening and saw your pretty face through the glass, Rooster was smitten at first sight

Even if he fell quickly, Rooster took his time in getting you to fall in love with him, too

He used to stop by every chance he got just to see you smile

No one could resist that charm forever, certainly not you, so when he asked you out on a date at last, you said no without a shred of hesitation

One date turned into another, and now you can’t imagine your life without him

Neither can your YouTube followers– you’ve developed a brand for having your followers vote on recipes you should try, then offering up the final products to Rooster as a definitely unbiased test subject

He’s just happy to try more of your baking and get to spend time with you too

You’re good friends with all of the Dagger Squad, as Rooster couldn’t resist showing you off to the rest of his friends the first chance you got

Your baked goods are now a staple at Top Gun– Rooster swears Cyclone only ever warmed up to him because you gave him cookies

And, when Dagger Squadron had an end-of-year holiday dinner, everyone insisted that you make a holiday dessert

How could they celebrate without your fine creations?

This quick approval makes perfect sense to anyone who knows you, Rooster says the only thing sweeter than your pastries is you

So he might be a charmer, so what? You love your boyfriend, and he loves you

That, certainly, is something worth savoring :))

requested by @thornyrose463, i hope you enjoy!

top gun tag list: @luckyladycreator2, @atarmychick007, @ramenyul, @mayfieldss, @nonsensical-nonce

all tag list: @wordsarelife

#rooster #rooster imagines #rooster x reader #rooster oneshot #rooster headcanons #top gun #top gun imagines #top gun x reader #top gun oneshot #top gun headcanons #tgm #tgm imagines #tgm x reader #tgm oneshot #tgm headcanons #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagines #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw oneshot #bradley bradshaw headcanons #top gun maverick #top gun maverick imagines #top gun maverick x reader #top gun maverick oneshot #top gun maverick headcanons #top gun rooster #top gun rooster imagines #top gun rooster x reader #top gun rooster oneshot

[witchwyfe]

❛ c’mere, you. ❜ and rooster if you don't mind! xo

Bradley (rooster) Bradshaw x reader

“C’mere, you.”

thanks bestie 💞

For as big as Bradley’s bed is, you wake up--and go to sleep--with him wrapped around you every time you sleepover.

And for as close as he is, he still somehow manages to steal the blankets.

This particular morning is worse than usual. 

Bradley’s got the whole duvet and both blankets you’d stacked on top, on his body. All you’re left with is the measly sheet, and you’re shivering. The fall chill seems to make its way through the cracked window more than it normally does.

You groan, shoving at his big shoulder, frowning when he doesn’t move a muscle. 

“Hey B,” You say, louder than you need to. “Wake up.”

Now he groans, burrowing further underneath the covers.

“Bradley!” You whine, tugging at the blanket.

“What?” He croaks, sleep still clinging to his voice. 

“Gimme some covers, you took them all.”

“Oh shit,” He says, like he didn’t notice. How can he not?

“You’re a blanket hog.”

“Shoulda been closer, then.” He teases. “How you’d get out of my arms anyway?”

“Shut up, give me a blanket.”

He smiles, stretching an arm out of his blanket cloak to stroke your cheek. “C’mere, you, my pretty girl.” He chuckles when he gets a smile out of you. “Yeah, my pretty girl hm? Y’look so gorgeous in the morning.”

You roll your eyes at his sweet words, despite the sweetness dripping over your heart like warm honey. You roll over right into his waiting arms, snuggling up against his bare chest.

“Mhm,” He hums in content. “Much better.”

© witchwyfe 2022. absolutely no reposting, translating, or modifying, even with credit.

#mine #my work #my writing #witchwyfe writing #witchwyfe 1k #lola's 1k #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster x reader #rooster imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster prompt #rooster drabble #rooster blurb #bradley rooster bradshaw drabble #bradley rooster bradshaw oneshot #rooster oneshot

[demxters]

—𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐓 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄

frat!bradley bradshaw x f!reader

dagger squad college!au

summary: bradley meets the girl he believes to be his good luck charm at a party. the only problem is, he doesn't have a clue who she is or how to find her again.

wc: 2.1k

warning(s): 18+, fem!reader, no y/n (reader goes by nickname clover), a wild jake and ace appears, explicit swearing, alcohol, college parties, slight nudity, tattoos

the lucky one masterlist || find on ao3

𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊, 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃!

You hated your ex with a passion. You knew what he was doing the second you saw his arm around Allison freaking Simpson. Not only was she the dean’s daughter, but she was also one of the top students of their class. 

In other words, she was everything you were not. Your ex was trying to prove a point and you hated that it was working.

Deep breathes, you remind yourself, thinking back to the meditation classes you took over the summer. 

Your eye twitches at the sound of Allison’s obviously over exaggerated giggles. Tyler Jacobs was not that funny. 

“He’s not worth your time,” a soft voice from beside you interrupts your glaring.

It was a girl you recognized from your classes over the years. Quiet, yet incredibly smart and snarky when need be. You’ve never actually talked to her much, but she was thoughtful and much more tolerable than a majority of your peers. 

“You used to date Tyler Jacobs, right?” Apparently, she was also very observant. 

You cringe at that. “Unfortunately.”

She hums, before returning her gaze to her notes. “I mean this in the nicest way possible, but you could do much better.” 

Now that makes you laugh. “Thanks,” you send her a genuine smile. 

You knew she was right. You could do so much better. Tyler was all you’ve known. Dating since high school, prom king and queen, the whole cliche. You just needed to expand your horizons. 

After another grueling hour and a half of listening to your professor talk about god knows what, you’re more than relieved to finally be released from class. 

The girl beside you packs up with haste, almost like she has somewhere to be. 

“Hey, Ace, tell that boyfriend of yours that he can suck my dick!” Tyler yells after her. 

“Go screw yourself, Jacobs,” she replies with a flash of her finger. 

You wrap your arm around her, noticing the tension in her shoulders as you deliberately announce, “I’ve seen it and trust me, your boyfriend would not be impressed.” 

The people around you snicker, making Tyler’s face turn red, and you smirk in satisfaction. 

The girl, who you remember was called Ace, is laughing as you guide her out of the lecture hall. 

“His face was priceless!” Ace says between laughs. 

You shrug with a smile. “I only said what’s true!” 

Ace shakes her head. “Amazing.”

A call of her name distracts her, and you both turn to see a tall, blond man jogging toward the both of you. 

You won’t lie. He was incredibly good looking. But the way his gaze was set on Ace told you all you needed to know. “The boyfriend, I’m assuming?” 

He wraps Ace up in his arms and she playfully rolls her eyes at his display of affection. 

“The one and only,” he grins. “Jake Seresin, pleasure to meet you. It’s so nice seeing you branch out, Ace. She is so anti-social, I swear,” he murmurs from the side of his mouth. 

She scoffs, smacking her boyfriend on the arm. “Shut up!” 

You laugh along with the duo, your heart aching at how in love they were. Even if they didn’t know it yet, you could tell they would be together for a long time. You had a knack for noticing those kinds of things–relationships that were meant to last and matchmaking. You take pride in the fact that you were the one to set up your old high school math teacher with your favorite art teacher. Now, they were happily married and had two kids with one more on the way. 

The one person you were unable to help in the love department, however, was yourself. How absolutely ironic. 

You used to think Tyler Jacobs was the one. You imagined the two of you growing old together, having kids, and telling them the stories of how the two of you fell in love. Being with him since your freshman year of high school and knowing him since kindergarten made you truly believe that he was the love of your life. 

Up until a month ago, when everything came crashing down and everything you thought you knew turned out to be a lie.

“Hey, you should come to the Delta Chi party this weekend,” Jake offers, noticing the sudden lull in conversation. 

Ace nods with a smile. “Yeah, something to take your mind off that ex of yours.” 

You eye Jake, unable to contain your growing grin. “A frat party?” 

Jake winks. “Only the best frat on campus.” 

Ace was right, you needed to take your mind off Tyler. You wanted to prove that you didn’t need him–that you never did. Besides, when did you ever say no to a party? “Alright, I’ll be there.” 

»»————- ♣︎ ————-««

You’ve been to so many parties, the sweaty bodies and loud music no longer deter you. 

Pushing your way through the crowd, you say hi to some familiar faces as you make your way to the drinks. 

One of the Delta Chi guys gives you a cup full of cheap beer, which you gladly accept. You continue to wander around the house, only being there once before. With Tyler. 

Just even thinking of him makes you nauseous. Downing the rest of your cup, you go back to the keg, desperate for another drink. 

Two becomes three. 

Three becomes four. 

Until, eventually, you’ve lost count and the only thing you can feel is the warmth of the alcohol and the beating of the bass in your chest. 

You hardly remember Tyler and Allison nor the aching heartbreak you’ve been going through for over a month now. 

It was just you and the dance floor. And maybe a few frat guys and sorority girls you didn’t know the names of but danced with anyways. 

Your cup was empty again and you groaned at the realization. You stumble your way back to the drink station, no longer able to control your heavy footsteps and swinging limbs. 

Your vision is so hazy that you don’t see the body you haphazardly bump into. 

“Holy shit!” the person says as you catch yourself on the table. 

He turns around with wide, doe-like eyes. Even through the horribly lit area and hue from the alcohol, you could tell that the guy in front of you was hot. His slightly curly hair was plastered to his forehead through the sheen of sweat that glistened on his skin. You could tell he was muscular, even under the ridiculous Hawaiian shirt he was wearing. And his eyes… you couldn’t pinpoint the exact color they were due to the poor lighting, but they were what you would describe as kind. 

He gapes at you like a fish out of water. You catch yourself giggling at his flustered state. 

“Are you some kind of good luck charm or something?” He blurts out. 

“What?” you slur. You boldly grab his forearm in order to steady yourself from swaying too much. You bite your tongue to hold back a sigh as the smell of cinnamon and faint cologne floods your senses. 

“I said, are you some kind of good luck charm or something? Because I just won that shit!” He gestures sloppily to the table where a game of beer pong was set up. 

“No way!” You bounce on your toes, feeling giddy from the excitement oozing off the guy in front of you. 

He nods vigorously. “I was about to make that shot, but then you bumped into me and I still got it in. That was awesome. You are a good luck charm! You’re like a… like a…”

Your eyes light up as he continues to think. “Like a four leafed clover?” 

He snaps his fingers. “Yeah!” 

A mischievous grin tugs at your lips while your fingers tug your shirt upwards. Rolling the loose tee you have on so it’s resting just right above your bra, you turn. “You mean like this?” 

His gaze zeroes in on the image inked below your right breast, on the edge of your rib cage. There lies a delicately etched four leaf clover. 

The tug in your chest is palpable. The pull this guy has on you is strange, yet welcomed. It was unlike anything you’ve felt before, even with Tyler. You wanted to beckon him closer. You wanted him to take his fingers on his large hand and delicately trace the outline of where you are most vulnerable. 

Your grip on your shirt loosens as it rolls back down your chest to your abdomen, suddenly feeling self conscious of how forward you were. Great, you just met the guy and now you’re gonna scare him away.  

He opens his mouth to speak, gaze glancing back up to meet yours, clearly rendered speechless by the unexpected action before him. 

“Yo, Rooster! Come on, someone’s trying to beat your time on the keg!” 

He’s interrupted by another guy who shakes his shoulders and pulls him away without another word. 

He gives you one last look over his shoulder, one apologetic and full of longing before you lose him in the crowd. 

Rooster. What a strange nickname. 

You just hope your sober self remembers it tomorrow. 

»»————- ♣︎ ————-««

Bradley can’t tell if the pounding is in his head or coming from his bedroom door. His head feels like a bowling ball and he can barely open his eyes without feeling like he was getting stabbed through his skull. 

He rolls over, throwing his pillow over his head. He prays that whoever is on the other side of the door gets the hint and leaves him alone. 

Much to his dismay, the person ends up inviting themself in anyway. 

“Rise and shine, sleeping beauty! Welcome back to the land of the living,” Jake’s irritating Texas drawl rings through his ears. 

Bradley groans, tossing his pillow lamely at him. “Go. Away.” 

“No can do, Bradshaw. Up! Up! Up!” He shouts, clapping his hands in front of Bradley’s face like a drill sergeant. 

Bradley wishes it were Jake in his place right now. In another time, it was Jake that was in his place. Bradley would be the one ushering him and his latest fling out of bed. When he started dating Ace, Jake changed. She straightened him up—made him lose the fuck boy act and be more respectful. Now it was time for Jake to have his fun. He hates how much Jake is enjoying Bradley being on the other end of the stick. 

“Go away before I rip your dick off,” Bradley threatens with narrowed eyes. 

Jake doesn’t take Bradley’s comment the way he wanted him to. His cackle and the rush of sunlight that enters the room makes Bradley whine pathetically. Even with his eyes squeezed shut, the light from outside was burning through his eyelids. 

“Reuben cooked breakfast. Hurry up if you want to eat anything other than bread crusts,” Jake announces before, not so softly, shutting his bedroom door. 

Bradley throws his pillow back over his head to block out all the light and sighs. Every time they host a party, he swears that he won’t drink too much. And every time without fail, he ends up blackout drunk and in bed with a sorority girl. Which is why he’s surprised that, for once, he can actually remember the night before. There wasn’t much significance to last night. Just like any other Friday, Delta Chi was throwing another rager. All his friends were there as well as the usual sororities. However, last night at the beer pong table was embedded into his mind. 

He could still smell the perfume of the girl he recalls being his good luck charm. He could see her bright smile and the tattoo she willingly flashed at him. A dopey smile tugs at his lips as he reminisces about last night. 

His euphoric haze is cut short when he realizes he never even got your name. Bradley didn’t know who you were or who you were with. He finds himself getting more of a headache trying to remember if he has ever seen you at any of the Greek life events on campus. He doubts you were in a sorority. He’s sure he would’ve remembered seeing a face like yours. 

The best thing he could do is ask if anyone knew a girl with a clover tattoo, but even that would probably get him nowhere. 

The pounding in his chest didn’t settle as he continued to relive the interaction from the night before. If only he hadn’t been pulled away by Omaha, he probably would’ve mustered up enough courage to get your name and number. He maybe would have even asked you out on a date. But he was whisked away in an instant. After the fiasco at the keg, Bradley wandered around the house trying to find you, with absolutely no luck. He didn’t understand what it was, but he was convinced that he needed to see you again. He had to. 

Even in his hung over state of mind, Bradley was on a mission. First, he was going to sober up and shower. Then was going to find his four leafed clover. 

this one is dedicated to @blue-aconite for this fic and clover wouldn’t exist without you, ily <;3

a/n: i hope you’re all as excited for bradley and clover as i am. im super stoked to introduce them into the ‘loving you universe’ and for you all to see where their story leads them. as always, the inbox is open and comments and reblogs are encouraged and appreciated.

tgm taglist: @joaquinwhorres @harrycherrylove @smoothdogsgirl @t-nd-rfoot @dempy @ollyoxenfrees @potato-girl99981 @averyhotchner @2guysonascooter @loveforaugust @blue-aconite @fandom-life-12 @stiles-banshees @iamdannyday @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @breezemood @eli2447 @angelbabyange @finelytaylored @pono-pura-vida @hecate-steps-on-me @blueoorchid @aviatorobsessed @blackwidownat2814 @hallecarey1 @averagereader35 @laneylovesglen @atarmychick007 @kajjaka @urfavelocagirl @clancycumber230 @memeorydotcom @kmc1989 @percysaidnever @thestarspangledcaptain

#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw oneshot #bradley bradshaw x f!reader #rooster x reader #rooster x y/n #rooster x you #rooster oneshot #rooster x f!reader #frat!bradley bradshaw x reader #college!au #loving you universe: the lucky one #rooster x clover 🍀 #demxters writing

[talkfastromance4]

Bradley’s Butterfly–Bradley Bradshaw oneshot

Warnings: panic/anxiety attack

Word count: 2.3k

Reblogs, comments, asks, mean the world! I love to hear your thoughts💕

Enjoy!

Bradley’s always been known for being observant, even at a young age he liked to watch those around him. His ears would perk up on conversations from couples fighting over what to have for dinner or a heated phone call from a man in a sleek suit. He liked to watch people in their natural form, study them, and be aware of his surroundings.

Everyone knew it, too. He’d pick up on subtle things that no one else seemed to really notice. Like how Bob mentioned his great Aunt Sylvie who he called ‘Aunt Sissy’ because he couldn’t quite say her name when he was younger. Bradley was the first to ask how his Aunt Sissy was after Bob had to rush home quickly for a family emergency.

He knows Hangman checks his gear three times before entering his cockpit and that Phoenix whispers a prayer her grandma would always sing to her before a mission. He notices small things that have a huge impact on those he cares about.

Being as observant as he is, Bradley was the first one to notice you as the new bartender Penny hired. He noticed right away how cute you were but also how meticulous you were when making a drink or pouring a shot. You had a good eye for precision and always picked up a crumpled napkin or one of the many discarded toothpicks Hangman left throughout the bar.

He noticed how your eyes would always meet his whenever he entered The Hard Deck. He noticed you noticing him and it always left a little flutter of warmth in his chest. You had all of the Dagger Squad’s drink orders memorized, you even played along with Hangman’s folly when he tried to trick you on his drink order.

One Tuesday after a grueling training session and 400 push-ups in the hot sun, Bradley really needed a drink so he headed to the bar. On top of the beating sun there was a dry wind that blew sand and dirt all over the place. Everything was dry and desolate because it’s been nearly a month without rain.

He fell onto the barstool heavily, his head pounding, muscles in his neck and shoulders screamed whenever he moved.

“Rough day?” you ask, voice soft as you set a glass of Blue Moon in front of him with an orange slice.

“Oh yeah,” he huffs. He winces when he leans forward on the bar to place his hand around the glass, it’s ice cold and feels refreshing when he takes a drink. He sighs wiping the foam from his mustache then tips the glass in your direction. “Thanks for this, it was very needed.”

“You’re welcome,” you smile sweetly and plop a white bowl full of orange slices next to his glass. The backs of your knuckles barely graze his fingertips but he feels an electric spark. “I’ll make sure to keep the oranges coming.”

You stayed true to your word. Bradley ate the slices you provided and had a few more Blue Moon’s just as the dinner rush was starting. He took that time to watch the way you were with other customers. You called them all by name, asked about their day and always had a smile on your face.

Bradley ordered some food as well and just as he finished up his loaded BLT, the rest of the squad strutted in laughing and smiling to a joke Fanboy probably made. They made a beeline for Bradley, he saw your eyes glide over the grown group and it tickled him pink when you grabbed him a fresh glass and orange before working on their drinks.

She remembered Bob’s cup of trail mix and handed Hangman a toothpick.

“Thanks darlin’,” Hangman grins. Instead of using his fingers to grab the toothpick, he closed his mouth around it then winked at you.

Bradley’s tickled pink trickled into a sea of red anger but you only laughed and rolled your eyes before turning your attention back on Bradley.

“I made some brownies, would you like one for dessert? Free of charge,” your smile was dazzling.

“A brownie sounds so good right now,” Bradley nods, watching you duck under the bar and skip to the back room where the office area is.

You come back with the square treat on a napkin, powdered sugar is sprinkled on top.

“Bradshaw!” Phoenix shouts from the billiards. She waves him over when he looks over his shoulder.

“Duty calls,” he sighs and rises from his stool.

“Kick Hangman’s ass,” you laugh. You clean up his plate of food.

“Will do. Thanks for the brownie,” he lifts it in appreciation. He’s glad he’s turned away when he takes the first bite because his face melts and a groan slips out. This is the best brownie he’s ever had. It’s the perfect amount of gooey with the ends a little hard.

With more beer and food in his system, Bradley’s body relaxes as the night lingers on. He’s just finished taking a celebratory shot with Phoenix after winning their pool game when an obnoxious group of Marines enter in with the saloon doors banging against the walls.

They stumble against the bar shouting for attention from any of the bartenders and Bradley is watching silently from his corner. You’re on the opposite side of the bar helping and chatting with a pair of girls but they’re shouting your name. Bradley watches as you turn upon hearing your name and hold up your hand motioning you’ll be right with them.

When one of them whistles at you that’s when Bradley starts to move.

Being 6’ 1” has its advantages because his height makes it easy to walk through people, they step out of his way easily. He’s at the bar next to the group of Marines as one of them whistles again, his brown eyes slide to you. He sees the way your shoulders tense up, how your hand perches perfectly on your waist when you turn around.

“Excuse me, I am not a dog you can whistle at,” you defend, your voice bristling as you approach the unruly group.

“It got you over here, baby,” one of them jeers.

Bradley notices how your eyes flick to the bell Penny has behind the bar and he hopes you ring it. He’d love nothing more than to toss these imbeciles out of the bar and away from you.

“I’ll get your pitchers of beer and you can go sit somewhere else. I have other customers,” you shake your head.

Bradley stays near you for the rest of the night, keeping a watchful eye on the Marines who were causing a ruckus by the gaming area. Bradley’s skin prickled when one of them slung an arm around Bob but Hangman intervened quickly with a hard shove and an even harder look. Javy joined him looking equally as intense and they backed off.

“What jerks,” you mutter behind him.

He turns his attention back to you, you’re glaring at the group as you wipe down glasses.

“Yeah, they’re full of shit,” Bradley agrees. “I was hoping you’d ring the bell so I could toss ‘em out for ya.”

“I definitely thought about it,” your eyes are still glued on them. “If they whistle at me again you have my full permission to dump ‘em in the sand. Thanks for standing by while they were here.”

“Of course. Gotta watch out for my favorite bartender,” he grins.

One of the Marines wouldn’t let up and tried to get you to play pool with them but you kept shaking your head. Slowly, the patrons began to leave and the Daggers bid farewell to Bradley and you in pairs.

The alcohol was starting to wear off in Bradley, his bones were starting to ache again and his bed was calling his name. He’d just finished signing his tab and pocketed his card when you approached with a bag over your shoulder.

“Hey Bradley? Would you mind walking me to my car?” you ask shyly, eyes shifting to the group of Marines that are still there. “That one has been trying to get me over there all night.”

“I don’t mind at all,” he shakes his head. “I was going to offer anyway since it’s so late. You got everything you need?”

“Yeah,” you nod clutching your bag tight to your chest.

He motions you ahead of him, his hand hovering over the middle of your back and he tosses a look over his shoulder. The one that called you ‘baby’ was watching in disdain and Bradley nodded at him with a slight smirk before leading you out the bar.

The heat is still in the air outside, sweat appearing instantly on both of your skin. Bradley follows you towards your car which is parked right next to his–not that he planned that or anything.

“Thanks for walking me,” you sigh. “Most of the time I love this gig but guys like that make my blood boil.”

“You and me both,” he nods. You unlock your door and open it. “Have a good night, drive safe.”

“You too. I should have given you more water.”

“I’ll be fine,” he waves it off, “not too far to go.”

He watches you buckle and settle before peeling out of the parking lot and he’s walking on air.

***

It’s three weeks later when Bradley comes to your rescue again. It’s Live Mic Friday where a local cover band is performing and it’s packed. The group of Marines are also in attendance and Bradley makes sure they keep their berth from you.

The music is good and the energy from the crowd is catching, he’s buzzing from having a good time with his friends but then the music stops suddenly and the house lights turn on. There’s some sort of tousle happening near the bar and Bradley rushes as quickly as he can through the sardined crowd.

You’re safe by the high top tables but the tray of glasses you were holding have slipped onto the floor in a million little pieces. Your eyes are wide as you stare at the Marines swearing and shouting in fits of rage. Your hand is shaking as you bring it to your chest, mouth open gasping for air.

Bradley is by your side, your quick gasps pierce his heart as you try to settle your breathing but it’s not working. Your eyes are wide and panicked and he knows exactly what’s going on.

“Let’s get outside,” he ducks his head to yours and ushers you out.

You’re still gasping, hands shaking even more as you try to touch each finger to your thumbs.

“Here, c’mere and sit,” he says pulling up one of the patio chairs but you shake your head. “It doesn’t help?”

“N-n-n–”

“Okay, no sitting. Place your hands like this–” he lifts your trembling hands to your chest, thumbs overlapping so they’re like a butterfly. “Good. Now, watch me, y/n.”

He mirrors his hands like yours waiting until your tear rimmed eyes focus on his hands. Bradley starts to alternately tap his fingers on his shoulders. It takes you a moment but you start to tap your shoulders as well, still gasping for air.

“Good, that’s so good, honey,” he encourages. “Keep doing that in time with me.”

There’s a loud noise from inside and it makes you flinch.

“Keep tapping. Did you know there’s a huge burn mark in the ceiling of the office? Yeah, I did that on my twenty-first birthday. I somehow created an alcoholic bomb of vodka, lighter fluid and a lighter. Hangman didn’t believe I could do it. I still don’t know how I did it, I failed Chemistry when I took it.”

Your lips trembled as your breath started to steady, your fingers kept tapping in time with his. Each tap helped you focus on the things around you and not the heavy weight on your chest or the panic in your mind that the world was going to crumble around you.

Bradley kept telling stories of his youth, how he got into a terrible accident and he now has scars from it. When your breathing is back to normal, the whole ordeal left you exhausted and you collapsed into the chair Bradley first offered you. He pulls one up in front of you, his warm brown eyes studying you and he places a gentle but firm hand on your knee.

“Okay?” he asks.

“Getting there,” you nod and wipe the tears from your eyes. “That helped a lot…thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I don’t know why it even started. I heard the shouting and it–it just hit me,” you shake your head.

“Your body’s way of preventing something bad from happening,” he shrugs, “panic attacks just appear sometimes and it’s okay.”

“How’d you know I was having one? And to do that tapping thing?”

“I had a lot of panic attacks after my dad died. I tried all of the centering techniques…box breathing, counting backwards, pointing out things I see and feel. This was what really worked, it’s called butterfly tapping,” he explains.

“Oh,” you exhale and close your eyes.

“How’s your heart?”

“Still racing,” you whisper. He starts to tap your knee with his thumb and you focus on the weight of his hand on you.

You sit out there for fifteen minutes as he helps center you.

“There, that’s better,” he smiles. You exhale deeply.

“Much better. Thank you, Bradley.”

“Let’s get out of here. I know a diner that has the best sundaes.”

“I need to finish working–”

“Does Penny know you get panic attacks?” he asks and you nod. “I’ll text her that I’m taking care of you. C’mon, we’ll go around.”

He holds out his hand. You slip yours in his, noting how rough and smooth they are at the same time. He’s also warm and you have butterflies the whole time he holds your hand to his Bronco and on the drive to the diner. You’ll have to remember Bradley’s butterfly the next time a panic attack appears.

#bradley bradshaw oneshot #bradley oneshot #rooster oneshot #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw oneshot #bradley fluff #bradley #top gun maverick #Bradley comfort #bradley Bradshaw comfort

[triptuckers]

a feeling of safety - rooster 

Request: nope Pairing:  bradley "rooster" bradshaw x reader Summary:  being called back to top gun means you see everyone again, even the ones you want to forget about Warnings:  mentions of alcohol, a panic attack, swearing, mention of abuse, but besides that it's all fluff Word count:  1.6k A/N: when I tell yall rooster has been on my mind all weekend I mean it. this man has been on my mind all day every day all night every night istg im down BAD !! also this is not the fic I mentioned earlier, just something I thought of. readers call sign is sunny

even after all these years, your time spent at top gun was still your favourite period of time. which is why you were beyond excited when you got called back to it, to start training for a rather difficult mission.

lucky for you, you still owned a small house near the base. you had made so many good memories there, you didn't have the heart to sell it when you got stationed somewhere else.

and now you're back. you spent the first day cleaning the house and making sure the garden looked somewhat okay.

you were so excited to see everyone again. you had kept in touch with phoenix, but over the years you had lost contact with the rest. as soon as you got a call asking you back at top gun, you let phoenix know. the fact that she got called back as well made it all perfect.

the two of you met up at everyone's favourite bar, where you also caught up with penny.

you kept on seeing familiar faces come and go, and it was an evening filled with laughter, drinks and catching up. you didn't even mind hangman's horrible jokes.

at some point during the night, someone else caught your eye.

it appeared that rooster also got called back.

how could he not? in your eyes, he was still the best pilot you've ever flown with. last time you saw him, there was an unspoken thing between the two of you. yes, you'd made out a couple of times behind the bar when you had one too many drinks, but nothing more had happened.

you thought you'd matured enough after that. when you were training at top gun, you were young, full of life and you loved to go out every weekend. you'd changed after that.

but seeing rooster in one of his signature hawaiian shirts stirred something in you.

he caught your eye, and smiled at you. but your eyes are on someone who came in right after him. a face you thought you would never have to see again.

immediately, your chest tightens and you feel like you can't breathe. you freeze for a split second before you're getting up, abandoning the drink phoenix had just brought you from the bar.

all of your instincts scream at you to run, to get the hell out of there.

you mumble a quick 'catch you later.' at phoenix before you bolt and make for the back door.

rooster, seeing you freeze up when he came in, frowns and walks over to phoenix and hangman to ask them what happened. but they're just as confused as he is.

meanwhile, you're outside. you half walk, half run to your car.

normally you would never drive after having this many drinks, but the adrenaline in your body is making you act before you can think it through.

there's no way he can be here. no way.

he'd already ruined so much for you. he did not get to ruin your time back at top gun. he certainly did not get to poison your good time by being there.

before you know it, you're driving away. you don't even process where you're going.

your hands are shaking so you grab on tighter to the steering wheel. suddenly you're crying and your breathing is irregular. the tears in your eyes blur your vision as you pull up to a house.

you fully break down.

your entire body is shaking and you can't stop crying. even though you got away from the bar, your body is still high on adrenaline, in full flight mode.

it's dark outside and you've lost all sense of time when someone knocks on the window your car. you jump up, thinking it's him.

but when you rub your eyes and take a closer look you see it's rooster.

he's got a worried look on his eyes and opens the door of your car.

'hey sunny.' he says.

'hi rooster.' you say in a hoarse voice.

'I would have given you a ride if you'd asked, you know.' he says.

you frown, looking around you. you then recognise the house you drove to. it's not your own place, as you had thought. it's rooster's. you'd spent many nights there laughing and having drinks with your friends.

apparently you drove there out of instinct.

'come on, let's get you inside.' says rooster, reaching out and turning the engine off. he takes the key, unbuckles your seatbelt and offers you a hand.

you grab it, wishing you weren't still shaking so bad. if rooster takes any notice of this, he doesn't let it show.

rooster unlocks the door and takes you inside. he pulls you to the kitchen and makes you sit down. he places a glass of water in front of you and then takes a seat as well.

'some timing we're both back at top gun, huh?' he says. 'can't wait to see what they have in store for us. it seems like they got the best of the best.'

you're silent as you sip your glass of water, the adrenaline slowly leaving your body but you're still shaking.

'it makes sense you're here, and phoenix. just sucks hangman is there as well. I always had to get used to being around him and his bad sense of humor.' says rooster.

'aren't you going to ask?' you say.

'ask what?' says rooster.

'why I freaked out that bad.' you say.

rooster shrugs. 'looks like you're still pretty shaken up after that panic attack.' he says.

you lift your head to meet his eyes.

'what, you think I don't know a panic attack when I see one?' he says. 'besides, it's not my place to ask.'

a wave of gratitude washes over you. maybe this is why you drove here without realising it, you knew he wouldn't pressure you into anything. a part of you regrets not asking him out for drinks all those years ago.

'there was a guy who came in right after you.' you say.

'you don't have to tell me.' says rooster.

'it's alright.' you say. 'you deserve to know why I showed up at your doorstep all freaking out like that.'

'yeah, I don't.' says rooster. 'you don't owe me anything.'

'but you do.' you say. 'my instinct brought me here, rooster. I thought I was driving to my own place. but I wasn't. you make me feel safe. even after all these years. so, yes, you deserve to know.'

rooster is silent as he lets your words sink in. he was just glad he found you instead of some other random pilot. but the thought that he makes you feel safe, warms his chest.

'I was still at top gun, teaching the new students. you were already away on assignment.' you say. 'phoenix was still there. she doesn't know. that guy that came in, tried really hard to get me to go out with him. but he wasn't my type. far too loud and arrogant for my liking. but he kept pressing on, said we'd look perfect together. even when I explicitly told him I would never go out with him, he kept finding me. one night, I was at the bar just having a drink on my own. I had a rough day, a close call during a training flight. suddenly he was there, claiming I was waiting for him. he tried kissing me, I pushed him away, but he just tried again. said I shouldn't deny my body's needs. it took two other pilots who stumbled upon us to get him away from me, but not after he had already kissed and touched me a couple of times. I just didn't think I would ever have to see him again.'

rooster doesn't say anything for a moment. 'shit, y/n, I can't imagine what that must feel like for you.' he says. 'to get back to top gun and having to see that guy again. did you tell anyone about it?'

you let out a chuckle. 'no point in doing that.' you say.

'why not?' says rooster. 'that was abuse.'

'it'll be my word against his. all he has to say is that I was tipsy. and besides, it happened years ago. nobody cares.' you say.

'I do.' says rooster. 'what's his name?'

'I'm not giving you his name.' you say.

'but-' 'no, rooster.'

instead of pressing on, he nods. 'okay. then tell me what I can do for you.' he says.

you smile at him. 'you're already doing it.' you say. 'sitting here, listening to me, offering me a glass of water and a safe environment.'

rooster smiles back at you and reaches out to lay his hand on top of yours. the feeling of his hand on yours warms your heart.

'do you want to stay here tonight?' he says. 'I'll change the sheets and you can take the bed, I'll sleep on the couch. I won't feel too good about you going home and be alone for the rest of the night after all of this.'

you smile again and feel a tear in the corner of your eye. rooster looks alarmed.

'was it something I said?' he says.

you quickly squeeze his hand. 'no, rooster, no.' you say. 'of course not. it's very kind of you to offer me a place to stay. but I won't have you sleep on the couch of your own home. I'll take the couch, if that's okay with you.'

'and I won't have a lady spend the night on the couch.' says rooster.

'it's fine.' you say. 'you take the bed, I insist.'

'we'll be here all night if I keep saying no, am I right?' says rooster.

'probably.' you chuckle.

'alight.' says rooster. 'let me see if I have some sweats and a shirt you can wear.'

that night, you sleep on rooster's couch. his scent lingers on the shirt he gave you. the adrenaline has worn off, and you realise how tired you are.

it doesn't take you long to fall asleep. after all, you feel safe here.

A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rulesHere’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Max/Marit

#the absolute chokehold this man has on me.... #also should I be asleep by now? yes anyways- #rooster #bradley bradshaw #top gun #top gun maverick #rooster x reader #rooster fic #rooster fics #rooster fanfic #rooster fanfiction #rooster oneshot #rooster oneshots #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fanfic #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw fics #bradley bradshaw oneshot #bradley bradshaw oneshots #top gun fanfic #top gun fanfics #top gun fic #top gun fics #top gun oneshot #top gun oneshots

[bucky-barmes]

♥︎ Destined (To Fail?) ♥︎

[ gif from @topgundaily ]

bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x f!mitchell!reader

in which you get called back to top gun to teach the next detachment. sounds like a dream gig until your two most hated men are there also

chapter one: here we go again

a/n: this is going to be relatively canon to the new film, just with lil tweaks here and there to make it flow smoothly. readers callsign is highness, thought it was pretty clever of me seeing as she's mav's daughter (also it just sounds badass af), reader also has a name as i felt it's just what felt right and flowed well with the story (and totally not just now realising that the first and last name start with the same letter like bradley so let's just pretend i did that on purpose) also i am but a humble australian writing about the us navy so if i got anything incorrect pls either let me know nicely or just deal with it bc i don't even know anything about my own navy let alone another country's

word count: ~3.5k words

contains: this story is gonna be angsty so hold on to your butts, already angsty af from the get go, swearing (are we surprised?), rocky relationship with father(figure), hangman being a flirtatious lil shit, reader being a badass, i think that's about it but pls lmk if i missed anything!!

as always, reblogs/comments/feedback/etc are always always always appreciated and wanted ♥︎ pls i crave external validation

my blog is 18+ only, minors dni

[ all my work is my own and not to be reposted or translated anywhere else ]

You and Bradley Bradshaw were destined for each other. Growing up together, you were inseparable, seeing each other daily. Spending just about every second of the day in each others company.

After everything that happened with Goose, Maverick swore to never leave the family’s side. Even when his own relationship was falling apart. Nothing could come between Mav and protecting that family.

So, ever since Bradley was born, exactly 1 year and 2 months after you, you had been practically joined at the hip, impossible to separate.

It was no surprise to anyone when you announced that you were officially dating in your teenage years. Although your father would say that he was less than impressed with you dating any boy, even Bradley himself. But he had accepted it, only after a thorough talking to from Carole Bradshaw.

There was only one thing that could come between you and your destiny. Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell. And boy did he really get in the way. Really took everything you held dear to yourself and threw it in the dirt, stomping all over it.

~~

“I’m gonna kill him, I swear I’ll fuckin’ kill him!” Bradley stormed through the door, red with rage.

“Brad, what happened?” You were quick to jump up to his side, concern evident in your voice. The paper you eagerly held on to before now an after thought.

“Maverick! He fuckin’ pulled my papers.” There was venom dripping from every word Bradley spoke, anger coursing through his veins. “All of that work, down the drain, everything I’ve done is all for nothing.” He was pacing and throwing his arms in the air, unable to contain the pure rage running through him.

“I’m sure there’s been some sort of misunderstanding, dad would never-”

“No, Mia! You don’t get it, he’s ruined everything, everything I’ve ever worked for!” He was facing you now, yelling, basically spitting his words at you. “You’re his daughter, you’ll never understand, never have to understand. You’re gonna get everything in your life handed to you no questions asked!”

You couldn’t believe his words. Didn’t want to believe his words. They cut deeper than anything anyone had ever said to you.

“You think I have it easy because he’s my father?” You spat back, just as venomous. “I have to work twice as hard as anyone else just to prove that I’m not some nepotism baby. No one’s ever going to appreciate me for my own ability, I’ll only ever be the great Maverick’s daughter!” You threw your hands up in disbelief. Disbelief that he would even think that. Disbelief that you were standing in your kitchen screaming at each other.

“Well I guess we’ll never know.” Bradley chuckled cynically. “If he pulled my papers, there’s no way in hell he’d let you get accepted.” You clenched the paper in your hand harder instinctively, shoving it into his chest.

“That’s why I never told him, I’m not that stupid.” Your eyes narrowed at Bradley as his widened, smoothing out the paper to read.

‘We are pleased to inform you of your acceptance into the Naval Academy in the field of Aviation Welfare’.

Bradley could only stare at you, slack jawed, eyes darting between you and the letter.

“I can’t believe this shit.” He shook his head in disbelief. “This is so fucking bullshit!”

“What the fuck, Bradshaw? I thought we were in this together?”

“Yeah, we were, until your dad pulled my fucking papers.”

“That has nothing to do with me. I didn’t exactly ask for him to be my father. Hell, I would’ve specifically asked not to have him if I could, but I fucking can’t, okay. Are you really going to let this, him, ruin everything?”

“He already has, when he pulled those papers.” You stilled, all emotion draining from you at his words, going numb.

“So this is it? Everything’s over?”

“My life may as well be, thanks to him.”

“Get out of my house.” You had to force yourself not to scream at him, knowing that it wouldn’t help the situation. Bradley said nothing as he stormed out of you kitchen, letting the door slam on his way out.

~~

That was the last time you saw Bradley Bradshaw, your boyfriend, before you left for training.

That was also the last time you referred to Pete Mitchell as your dad. You disowned him as your father and vowed never to forgive him for what he did to Bradley, and subsequently, you. From then on, he was only ever Captain Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell to you.

~

It had been years since you had spoken to either of the two men. Pete had tried to insert himself back into your life, showing up at ceremonies and important events in your life, but you always kept it strictly professional, refusing to acknowledge him as your father.

Bradley, on the other hand, you hadn’t spoken to since the incident back in the kitchen of your family home. You’d never admit it, but you never truly got over him, and you made yourself a promise to never let anyone get close like that again. The two men you should have been able to trust the most destroyed you in a single day. You would never let that happen again.

That’s why you were surprised to receive a call from Admiral Beau ‘Cyclone’ Simpson. You had crossed paths when you attended Top Gun, (like father like daughter right?), but you didn’t think you had made much of an impression on him. You may have kept to yourself, but you also always made your opinion known, even if it was an unpopular one, and definitely put people in their place if they were out of line. But if anyone dared liken you to Maverick you’d have their head for it, as a couple of the men from your Top Gun squadron found out the hard way.

Clearly Cyclone appreciated your skill as well as your personality, because his call was to invite you back to Top Gun to teach the next intake. Something about a mission that was too classified to discuss over the phone.

~

Making your way back to Fightertown had you reminiscing on the ride. You had chosen your trusty Triumph Thruxton to fully enjoy the long journey, packing only your essentials in a large duffel bag secured across your back.

You and Bradley had grown up here. Just about every turn held a memory of the times you spent together.

You didn’t have long to reminisce however, as you were soon pulling into the Top Gun base, back at your old stomping ground. Now, memories came flooding back of your days flying there, coming out top of your squadron. That was potentially the best day of your life, knowing you finally beat Maverick, finally were better than him. That didn’t happen to be the first time you had proved yourself better than him, either.

The briefing for the cause of your return was long and tedious. There was an underground uranium plantation breaking NATO laws that needed to be taken out. You were assigned with teaching the best of Top Gun how to succeed in this, and most importantly, to teach them how to all make it back home. Your main task was to ensure the team became just that, a team. Easier said than done when most of the pilots that graduated top of the class had an ego to match. But you were always up for a challenge.

Seeing as you were now back in your old stomping ground, you thought it was only fitting to visit Penny at the Hard Deck after the briefing, you definitely needed a drink after the news. Maybe you could even scope out some of the class while you were there.

As you stepped through the door of the bar, you were greeted with the familiar buzz of chatter and music from the juke box. It was only mid afternoon, but the place was already lively.

You made a beeline for the bar, dodging already tipsy bodies moving around the room chaotically and thumped your hand on the bar twice to get Penny’s. You couldn’t help the grin that spread across your lips as she angrily turned to see who had the audacity to get her attention like that. But her death glare soon slipped to a shocked grin when she spotted you, dropping her cloth to give you a hug over the bar that was so tight you thought she might crack a rib.

“Mia! What the hell are you doing back around here?” Penny poured you a beer as she gave you a questioning side glance.

“Apparently they need some new life ‘round here to teach the new- well old new meat.” You flashed her a smirk over the rim of your glass she had handed you before taking a sip.

“Well, god help the poor souls that cross your path in that classroom.” She returned your smirk easily.

“Penny, my dear,” a tanned, blond-haired man approached the bar opposite you, a smirk on his lips that you just knew was there 98% of the time. “I’ll have another round on my tab, please.” He threw in a wink for good measure. Then, his eyes were on you, widening slightly at the sight of you as he chewed on the toothpick between his teeth.

“Well, well, well,” the blond made his way around the bar to stand next to you. He leaned an elbow on the bar and rested his palm on his defined chin. “And who do we have here?” There’s a glint of something, lust, surely not, in his eyes as they roam over your features.

“Who wants to know?” Eyeing him up and down right back as you took another long sip of your beer, only your look was one more of annoyance than lewd interest.

“She’s a woman of mystery, Hangman,” Penny placed his 3 beers on the bar for him. “Good luck.” Winking at you before she returned back to the other customers waiting.

“So, Hangman? You like word puzzles or something?”

Hangman couldn’t help the slight snort of laughter that escaped him. “Gotta admit, haven’t heard that one before.” He nodded to his friends as they came over to grab their beers, realising that they’d probably never make it to the pool table they were gathered around. “But,” he glanced back to you. “I guess you’ll just have to find out how I got the name.”

If you were being honest, you zoned out about the time his posse came to rescue their drinks. Your heart had sunk the second you saw his famous Hawaiian shirt walk through the front door, fear only solidified as you heard a voice call out “Rooster, that you?”. You gulped down the remainder of your beer and slapped down a $50 note to cover your drinks, plus some. Your eyes caught Penny’s and you gave her a silent plea of ‘I was never here’, she replied with a knowing nod.

Hangman just stared at you, confusion spread across his handsome features.

“Thanks for the chat, Hangman, but it’s time for me to go.” You spoke as you hastily got out of your seat, eyes flashing to where Bradley was now standing with his friends, his back to you.

“Hey, can I at least get your—” You were up and making your way out the door before Hangman could even finish. “Name.”

“Like I said, Hangman, woman of mystery.”

~

Training began the next day, with only 3 weeks until the uranium plant was operational, you had to get a move on if any of this was going to work.

You were stood at the back of the room, having entered after the candidates were seated, waiting for Admiral Bates to introduce you.

“And she’s one of the greatest pilots I’ve seen come through this program. I give you Rear Admiral Mia Mitchell, call sign Highness.”

Your heavy boots thundered on the concrete floor as you walked up the aisle between the tables to the front. You could feel every single person’s eyes on you, and if you had’ve looked, you would have seen a few staring a little more intensely than others.

You turned on your heel at the front to face the group, flashing Bates a smile before nodding to the team. Eyeing them over your Ray-Bans, you noticed Bradley clench his jaw, avoiding eye contact. Jake Seresin, on the other hand, was clearly trying to hold back his shocked expression and act cool. But you could see him chewing on his gum a little harder.

It was your turn, however, to try and mask your shock as Admiral Bates introduced the second teacher. He and Simpson had warned you that there would be a second person, but gave nothing away on who it might be. Now you knew why.

“His exploits are legendary, and he’s considered to be one of the finest pilots this program has ever produced. I give you Captain Pete Mitchell, call sign Maverick.”

Your whole body stiffened, subtle smirk your lips just held falling slack jawed. The echo of his boots walking up the aisle reverberated in your ears.

He nodded at Bates and then you as he moved to stand beside you. Not him. Anyone but him.

You silently thanked yourself for keeping your Ray-Bans on, otherwise the whole room would have seen the sheer terror in your eyes at what was happening around you, and you couldn’t let the candidates see any weakness.

“I’ll let you two take the floor.” Admiral Bates stepped to the side, allowing you both the freedom to speak.

Pete held up the instruction manual for the F-18 aircraft. “I’m sure you all recognise this, and know it better than the back of your own hands.”

“Hell yeah.” “You’re damn right.” You were able to pick out the voices of Hangman and Coyote as you stared at Pete, wondering where the hell he was going with this. Obviously the team knew the manual, it’s your bible in Top Gun.

Pete dropped the brick of a book into the trash can beside him, and everyone gasped. “Well, so does the enemy. What they don’t know is you, the person in the box. Over the next 3 weeks we’re going to learn every single detail about you, anything we can use to our advantage to win this fight.” You’re sure he felt you stiffen beside him, you could feel his eyes on you from your peripheral.

Pete continued to explain the mission, a uranium plantation going against NATO laws that needed to be destroyed. All happening in 3 weeks. Everyone’s faces mimicked each other, pure shock and concern at how the hell they were going to manage this.

“Anything to add, Rear Admiral Mitchell?” Pete’s voice snapped you back from your mind wandering, you cleared your throat.

“Say again?” You turned to face him, the sound of the candidates in front of you chuckling filling your ears. You forced the red tinge away that was trying to make its way up your neck.

“Do you have anything you’d like to discuss?” Pete gave you a questioning look as he rephrased his question to you.

“Ah, right,” you cleared your throat again, turning to face back to the team in front of you.

“As I’m sure you’ve realised, Captain Mitchell here is in charge of prepping you for the flight and potential fight, the nitty gritty stuff. Well, I’m here to take this roomful of egos and turn it into a team.” You pushed your sunglasses onto your head, allowing your eyes to roam over the group in front of you, lingering on Hangman as you mentioned egos. “My job is to get you working and communicating effectively as a team, so if you have any plans on hanging your teammates out to dry, I’d suggest changing them. If you leave your teammate in a dogfight, 200 pushups; if you sacrifice them to make yourself look better, 200 pushups; if you do anything to put your team at risk, 200 pushups.” The room was silent, your authority bleeding through your words.

“I’m expertly trained in reading people, I can see straight through you if you lie to me, so just make it easier on the both of us and don’t try. I’m here to learn anything and everything about you, to build this team and make sure you all get everyone home safe to their families. Any questions?” The room remained silent, everyone staring at you with wide eyes, even Pete. “Excellent. Training starts at 0600 hours tomorrow, sharp. Dismissed.” The class stood, collecting the notes they had taken and filed out of the room, leaving you and Captain Mitchell alone.

“So are you going to tell me what the hell that was, Mia?” Pete was staring at you square on now, brows knitted together in a mix of concern, confusion and frustration.

“It’s Rear Admiral Mitchell, let’s keep things professional, Captain Mitchell. And to answer your question, that was what I wanted to discuss with the class.” You chose to ignore the way Pete’s body language deflated at your cold manner towards him.

“That was a bit much, don’t you think?”

“We have three weeks to make a team out of the best of the best, we don’t have time to fuck around here, Mitchell. Do you want these guys coming back or not?” Were you a little more blunt than you intended? Maybe, but you really didn’t care.

Pete just shook his head and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I suppose you’re right. You always did know how to win friends and influence people.” He chuckled to himself as he walked out of the room, shaking his head slightly.

~

The last night of freedom before shit got real. The Hard Deck was packed as usual, the whole team for the uranium plantation mission was there, all taking the time to get to know one another better. A fact you wished you’d have been warned about before you stepped foot through the door.

“Highness! Come have a drink with us!” Natasha Trace, aka Phoenix, was already pulling you in the direction of the of the pool table the team was gathered around before you had a chance to protest. Fraternising with the team, your students, wasn’t exactly what you had in mind for your last night off in who knows how long.

“Well, I’m glad to see everyone is getting to know each other better, especially outside of training.” You gave them all a tight-lipped smile, hovering at Bradley for just a touch longer than the others. He just stared at you blankly. Clearly he still wasn’t over everything that happened, you thought to yourself.

“Fancy a round with us, Highness?” Something about the way Jake Seresin spoke your callsign made you uneasy. Not in the sick to your stomach kind of way, just in the way that made you think there was something more beyond what he was saying.

“That depends, you talking pool or beer?” You could feel yourself easing up around them all quicker than you realised, even flashing Seresin a cocky smirk as you answered him.

“I’m sure we could work something out that involves both.” Seresin winked and the rest of the team could only stare in quiet shock at the not-so-subtle flirting going on between the two of you. It made Bradley’s blood boil.

Natasha could see the effect the interaction had on Bradley from a mile away and she nudged his shoulder with her own.

“You good?”

“I’m great.” He replied through gritted teeth, obviously the complete opposite of fine. He could only glare as you accepted the beer Seresin had just bought for you, noticing the trace of a genuine smile behind your usually professional smile. It made him sick. Out of all people, it had to be Seresin?

“And that’s a fuckin’ lie.” Natasha was facing Bradley straight on now, hands on her hips in a way similar to that of a mother concerned for her child.

“Quit it, Trace!” Something about the way Bradley bit at her name made Natasha wince, if he continued on like this, there was no way in hell he was making the cut and they’d be stuck with Hangman as lead. Over her dead body.

Bradley could already sense she was about to press further and cut it off at the source.

“Just fucking leave it, Natasha.” He turned on his heel and stormed off towards the exit before she could protest further, leaving her staring at his retreating figure.

Something about the way he snapped almost made you feel bad for him. Almost. But you weren’t about to let Bradley fucking Bradshaw ruin your night, or your career. He would have to either get over whatever his problem was with you, or pack his bag and walk off the mission. There was no way in hell you were going anywhere, even if you had to work alongside Mav. This was potentially a career-making mission, and nothing was going to stop you from what may be on the other side of it.

perm taglist: @katieshook02

some moots i think might like it: @traitorjoelite @coyotesamachado @callsignvalley @ohtobeleah (pls let me know if you would like to not be tagged in future ♥︎)

#bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw fanfic #bradley bradshaw oneshot #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster top gun #rooster bradshaw #top gun rooster #top gun maverick #top gun x reader #top gun fic #top gun fanfic #top gun imagine #top gun oneshot #rooster imagine #rooster oneshot #rooster x reader #rooster fanfic #rooster fic #tgm #top gun maverick x reader #top gun maverick x oc #bradley bradshaw x oc #rooster x oc #rooster angst #bradley bradshaw fanfiction

[ohthatstragic]

one is currently writing a rooster request... B) debating whether to post it tonight or tomorrow.... can't decide yet.....

#top gun maverick imagine #top gun one shot #top gun imagine #top gun #top gun maverick #rooster x you #rooster x yn #rooster x y/n #rooster x reader #rooster imagine #rooster oneshot #rooster fluff #rooster bradshaw fic #rooster top gun #bradley bradshaw

[ddejavvu]

Love to Lie - Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Reader (Part 4/FINAL PART) / Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

Summary: Your worst fear is recognized when Bradley’s jet goes down with him in it. You’re not sure why you’re still his emergency contact, you’d broken up two weeks ago, but when you rush into the hospital room, you discover that you have a chance to fix the mistake you’d been cursing yourself for. The only problem is, you have to lie to Bradley, and you discover that you love doing it if it means you get to be with him again.

Contents/Warnings: fem!reader, Mitchell!reader, angst, angst with a fluffy/happy ending, amnesia trope, hospitals and their subsequent medical details, memory loss, goose and carole are still alive because i say so

WC: 4.1K / navigation / inbox

A/N: the real last part! i sincerely hope you enjoyed this series, it's very dear to my heart and so is all of the wonderful feedback you've given me on it. I love hearing what you think, it keeps me motivated to write more for you and I'm just so happy that I got to share this with you all. Thank you to anyone who's enjoyed this, I'm privileged to have shared your time and gotten your love in return. <333

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

You feel like he’s gutted you. Like he’s plunged the hand holding the ring right into your stomach, twisted it so that the gem inside slits your insides into ribbons, and wrenched it back out dripping and glistening in crimson.

He looks so hopeful, eyes earnest and shining as he stares at you, that damn ring held between you like a life preserve. Like if you let him toss it over your finger, reel you in with his tender heartstrings, you wouldn’t drown. You’d escape the dreadful ocean of grief that’s been slowly filling your lungs since you’d left, you’d give your tired legs a break from treading water if you could just say yes. The word is on the tip of your tongue, and your achy heart begs you to say it, but you can’t.

Not when he doesn’t know.

“Bradley,” You whimper, reaching out to lay a gentle touch over his hand. You wrap your hand around both his own and the ring, squeezing tightly, “I have to tell you something.”

Bradley’s enthusiasm wanes. He hadn’t waited long enough. You’re not in love with him yet; he rushed into things just like he had before and he’d ruined it. How did he manage to ruin it two times? The best thing in his life, and he’s fucked it up twice in a row now. 

You’re looking at him with eyes full of sadness, and he catches a flash of pity in them; just like he’d feared. His stomach sours and he balks, spooking like a startled horse.

“No, no. No, it’s okay, you’re- you’re not ready yet, sweetheart, that’s okay. We can wait,” He babbles, wrenching his hand out from your own and jamming the ring back into the drawer, like if he can just get it into a safe zone, it’ll hit undo on the entire fiasco.

“No, baby,” Your face screws up, a barely-withheld sob behind your frown, “Baby that’s not- we really need to talk. Okay? I promised we would today.”

“I- I know, but-” He stammers, trying to evade your gentle touch as you pry his hand back from his dresser drawer, the ring still clutched inside and lining his palm with a layer of sweat.

“Let me talk,” You plead, “Brad, I need to come clean. Please?”

He’s sure you can see his Adam’s apple bob in his throat as he swallows what little saliva there is in his mouth, “Okay.”

“Two weeks ago,” You start, and the words feel leaden on your tongue; impossibly heavy. “-before your crash. You- you remember Javy’s crash, yeah?”

“Yeah,” His breath catches in his throat, visions of his teammate's poor girlfriend swimming in his mind. Visions of the woman he never wanted you to have to be.

“That really-” You choke on a sob, “That really freaked me out, Bradley. I realized that you could go down like that. I- I’ve always known, y’know, ‘cause of your dad. But I just- I was so young when that happened, and it wasn’t fresh, so when Javy went down… I had this revelation. That I could-” Your voice tampers down into a weak whimper, “I could lose you, Brad. I could say goodbye to you one morning and not get to say hello again in the evening. I just- lost it,” You admit, brushing away stray hair from over your red-rimmed eyes, “I’m sure you noticed I wasn’t the most pleasant to say goodbye to in the mornings. But- but baby, I was always so happy when you came home, because it meant I had more time. It felt like some awful time bomb,” You recall, “Like every time I said goodbye to you would be the last, and I couldn’t rest until you were back home. I’ve never felt like that before, I’ve always had confidence in your abilities. Even on deployment, I know you’re working with people who have your back,” You sniffle, “I’ve always known you could die, but it’s never felt that much like you would before. But then- Javy wasn’t the one who crashed,” You explain, voice thick with blubbering tears, “I mean- that was just his jet malfunctioning. And then all of a sudden I- it was like I remembered that I could lose you in some freak accident. Like it wouldn’t have to be your fault, it could just happen, and you could die. Like your dad, Bradley, I- I didn't wanna lose you like we almost lost your dad."

“That is,” You collect yourself, swallowing a heavy sob that leaves your throat achy and gutted, “My nightmare, baby.” You tangle your fingers with his where you’re still clutching his hand, squeezing tight enough to probably bruise the guy, “I don’t know what I would do if I lost you. I would die if I lost you, Brad. Even if I was alive, I’d be dead inside. I need you, I need you in my life, Bradley.”

What you’re saying sounds good to him. Terrible, of course, if he didn’t come home one day. But he is home, and you’re telling him you need him, and he can’t figure out why in the world you’ve said no twice to putting on the ring. 

“You have me,” He vows, squeezing your hand right back, “Honey, you have me right here, right now. Why won’t you let me keep you?” He presses the ring into your palm, and you both feel the metal band burning your skin like it’s been superheated.

“You asked me to marry you before you crashed,” You blurt, and even though slamming a wrecking ball into your reverie of late feels like stabbing yourself in the chest, there’s something gratifying about telling the truth. About finally coming clean, about telling him exactly why you can’t say yes.

“You sat me down, and you gave me the sweetest speech in the world,” You recall with tears thick in your voice, “About how you loved me, and how you wanted to spend the rest of your life with me, and- and you proposed, and I said no.”

He chews on the inside of his cheek, analyzing the grief in your voice. You sound anguished, like you’re upset with yourself for saying no, but you didn’t say yes this time around, so he can’t believe what he hears.

He takes a deep breath, cutting off whatever you’re going to say next, “I know.”

It feels good for him to come clean, too. Even if he's dreading what'll happen, even if he thinks there's a good chance you'll march out the door, he's glad to be done with the lies. He'd loved them while they'd lasted, but they went down in flames just like his jet.

“-and-” You stop, blinking twice, “What?”

“I know,” He admits, “I- I remember, honey.”

“You- what?” Your eyes widen, and you lean forwards, gazing imploringly at Bradley, “Brad, you- you remember? You remember everything now?”

“Yeah,” He nods, watching as you process the information.

You feel sick. You’re not sure why, because you’ve already told him the truth. But memories are different than retellings, and you both know that. No explanation on your part would have conveyed the crushed, betrayed look in his eyes when you’d declined his proposal; there’s not words in the english language suitable to describe how desperately he’d pleaded for you to stay, even in just the simplest of touches to your waist, trying to pull you back to him that night.

Now he remembers that, now you’re on the same page, and when you turn it, you’re not sure what you’ll see. 

The end of a chapter? The beginning of a new one? Or the blank back cover of a book, perhaps, if your luck has run dry. 

“When did your memories come back?” You ask, your voice sounding faraway and dazed in the back of your mind. You’re not even sure you’ve really said it, you’re too wrapped up in worrying about what he’s thinking. If your confession had spurred on his memories, you’re not sure you’ll ever get a chance to put on that ring.

Bradley swallows what little saliva is in his mouth, “A while ago.”

“How long?” Your brows furrow impossibly deeper, your brain running circles trying to figure out what’s real and what isn’t, “Like- like since this morning?”

“Since I woke up,” He confesses with a heavy heart, because lying to you hurt even if he’d loved the outcome,  “In the hospital. I- I didn’t remember at first, but they came back, uh, in a few minutes.”

You feel like you’ve walked into a cloud of smoke. Everything around you is foggy, and your brain can’t process what he’s told you. It feels like he’s lying to you, like he’s tricking you and pretending that he’s known the entire time just so as not to feel foolish. But that’s not Bradley, he doesn’t need to be smarter than you, or faster than you, or better than you, so you know he’s telling the truth.

“But- why did you lie?” You stare at him with tears glimmering in your waterline, and he’s sure this is what he looked like when he’d asked you not to go that night. Betrayed, confused, heartbroken.

“Because you did,” Bradley whimpers, wanting nothing more than to swipe a thumb under your eye and gather the tears there on his skin, taking the burden away from you.

“You came in and you asked to kiss me, and- and I wanted you to. I didn’t want to talk about what had happened, because I didn’t want you to walk out again, so I just- I lied. And I let you lie to me, too.”

You think back, and you remember how you’d walked back into the hospital room, on the verge of tears with nerves rolling in your belly. And you’d asked to kiss him, you’d given him the perfect opportunity to lie, and he’d taken it. And you can’t be mad at him, because you’d lied, too. You’re slightly hurt. It doesn’t feel good knowing that your lover- or, ex-lover lied to you. It feels even worse to know that Bradley lied because he thought you’d leave him if he told the truth. Like you’d turn tail and run, whooping through the parking lot about being free at last. But you’re the one that put that thought in his head; you’re the one that ran away. So you can’t blame him for keeping you on a short leash.

You feel too many things at once. You feel like a monster, like a cruel heartbreaker that had shattered Bradley’s to pieces. You feel confused, because you’re still processing that the past few days were entirely fake on both ends. You feel slightly betrayed, like you wish Bradley would have just told you. But you didn’t tell him either, and that makes you feel like an asshole. Too many feelings are bottled up inside, and they gush forth in a messy round of tears, one worse than Bradley’s ever seen from you.

It sets him in a panic, and he’d already been misty-eyed before. Now his own tears roll in fat droplets down his cheeks as he muscles down his sobs for your sake, dropping your hand only to take up your waist. He drags you closer on the bed, but it’s uncoordinated and a struggle as your limbs don’t cooperate. You’re limp like a ragdoll, and once he finally has you positioned in his lap he buries his face in your shoulder to soak his tears into your shirt.

“I’m sorry,” He whispers, his chest heaving and shaking with sobs, “I’m sorry I lied. I shouldn’t have, I- I know it was wrong. I just- I wanted you to stay, honey. And I thought it would be okay if we were both lying, because then I could make you fall in love with me again, and- and it was a stupid plan, I’m sorry. I should have told you, I’m sorry, I- I never wanted to make you cry. I’m sorry, honey, please don’t- please don’t cry. I love you, please, don’t cry.”

He thinks he’s allergic to your tears. His chest hurts, his face burns, and the front of his shirt is slowly sticking to his chest where you’re crying against it. He’s not sure he can handle much more of this, he can barely breathe and if you don’t stop crying soon, his lungs might collapse. He doesn’t like that you’re crying; even though he knows its a messy situation, even though he knows it’s complicated beyond belief, he’s worried that lying to you fractured your trust in him, and that won’t look good on his permanent record, especially not when he’s waiting on a yes or no from you regarding marriage.

“Honey, please,” He knows he’s not the only one at fault, he knows you’re just as guilty for lying as he is, but you’d done it out of pity, and he’d done it out of greed. You’d played pretend with him so that he didn’t lay alone in a hospital bed, but he’d lied to you so that you wouldn’t leave. He’s kept you trapped, and he’s worried you’ll break free from the cage and run.

“I’m sorry,” He cries, clutching tighter at you when you try pulling away, scared you’re on your way out, “No, honey, please, I’m so sorry-”

“Stop apologizing!’ You beg, a raw quality to your throat that bleeds into your voice. You can’t take it anymore, you can’t let him blubber out sorry after sorry for something he’s not at fault for. You wish he’d been honest, sure, but you couldn’t possibly blame him for continuing the game that you started playing.

“Just- stop, please,” You breathe, quieter now this time. “I- You’re not the one that has to be sorry.”

“But I am,” Bradley gushes, clinging tight to you, still nervous you’re trying to leave. But you’re stationed to stay in his lap, smearing away tears with the skin of your wrists.

“Well don’t be.” You huff, frustration swirling in your chest, all self-directed, “Don’t- don’t apologize for my mistakes! Bradley,” You whimper, rubbing at your eyes hard enough to see swirls beyond your vision, “I left you. I rejected your proposal, and I left you, and then when you almost died, and forgot I left you, I lied to your face. You had amnesia, Bradley, and I lied to you, in what world should you be apologizing? You should hate me,” You decide, stomach churning at just the thought, “I’m so sorry, Bradley, I- I’m so sorry! You should be throwing me out, you should kick me to the curb, and-”

“I don’t hate you.” He says, his voice gruff. He says it plain and simple, like it’s easy. Like there’s no hard feelings, like he’s not perturbed at all by your dishonesty, your betrayal.

“I love you,” He continues, and oh, does that drive the nail into the coffin you’re trapped in, “I love you so much, honey, I just don’t understand you. Why did you leave?”

“I was so scared,” You’re getting tired of saying it, but you know you have to, “Javy crashed, and I realized you could, too. Brad, I’m so sorry, I was so selfish, I didn’t wanna go through that. I left you because I didn’t wanna get hurt. I- I left to save myself from mourning your loss. But it didn’t work, and- and you still crashed, and I still almost had to mourn your loss, and it still hurt, so- so bad, Bradley. It hurt so bad,” You blubber, and he pulls you back into his chest.

“I know,” He murmurs, and you can’t fathom why he’s still comforting you, why his large, calloused hand is rubbing sweet, soft, soothing circles over your back like you’re not a traitor, “I know, honey, I can’t imagine. I’m sorry you had to get that call.”

“Come on,” You plead, your fists clenched in Bradley’s shirt, nails digging into the fabric, “Bradley, this- this isn’t fair. You should be mad at me. Even if you-” You can barely say it, the thought sounding like a fantasy; too good to be true, “Even if you love me, you should be upset. That I left, that I- that I lied, you can’t do this. You can’t comfort me, and you can’t apologize.”

“I can, too.” He argues, his brows furrowed and his mustache turned down with his frown, “Sweetheart, I know you’re sorry about all those things, you told me yourself. I know you’re sorry you left, I know you’re sorry you lied, it’s okay. It hurt when you left, but I never hated you. I wanted you back,” He admits with a shaky voice, “I wanted to fix things. And when you asked to kiss me in the hospital, I chose to let you lie to me even though I knew the truth. I liked it, baby, I loved it, because I had you back. You’re sorry, and- and I’m sorry, and we’re both sorry, so let’s do something about it. Let’s fix it, baby, please.”

“I want to fix it,” You sob, “I really do, Bradley. I- I wanted to pretend forever,” You confess, “Because it felt like it did before I left, and- you have no idea how much I wanted that back, Brad.”

“Me too,” He agrees with a rough sniffle, “I- I wanted you to pretend forever, honey. I really did, I- that’s why I proposed again,” He cringes at the memory, at the second time he’d asked to no avail, “Because I just wanted you to keep pretending, and say yes, and I thought- I thought I might be able to make you love me again, so I went for it, but I shouldn’t have. I should- I should’ve talked to you first, I should have told you the truth, but I just- I was scared, and-”

“Oh, Bradley,” You gush, grabbing the back of his neck and tugging him down into a hug. You might be smothering him, you’re not sure if he can breathe where he’s buried in your shoulder, but he doesn’t care. He’s clutching you like you’ll disappear if he doesn’t, and you’re horrified that he might really think that, but you understand why he does.

“Marry me,” He begs, “Please, honey, marry me. I’m not mad at you, I love you, please, just- just marry me, please. I can’t lose you again.”

“You won’t lose me,” You promise, tears flowing steady down your cheeks, “Honey, I promise, I won’t walk out unless you want me to.”

“I don’t,” Bradley shakes his head, his arms encircling your waist even tighter now, “I don’t want that, honey, please- please don’t.”

“I won't,” You promise, “But Brad- do you want to marry me for love, or because you’re afraid I’ll leave if you don’t?”

“I love you,” He croaks into your shoulder, and you know he’s not lying to you now, “I mean- I mean of course I’m scared to lose you. But I’m scared because I love you, and I still wanted to marry you even before this happened, before I was scared. I’m not trying to tie you down so you can’t leave, I’m trying to love you forever. It’s love, honey, I love you.”

“I love you too,” You wail, unperturbed by your messy, tear-stained, snot-streaked faces as Bradley lifts his head out of your shoulder to kiss you. It’s desperate, sloppy, and uncoordinated, but it’s the first real kiss you’ve shared in a long time, and you wouldn’t change a thing about it if you could. It’s all desperate, grabby hands and quivering breaths as you familiarize yourselves with each other again, remember what it’s like to be honestly, truly in love with each other. You’ve thrown the lies away like a hardened cast, and the bones beneath it have mended, still tender but whole again. You can’t get enough of him, you can’t take your hands out of his hair and you can’t press your chest up against his enough. He feels the same, he can’t possibly tug your hips further against his own, and he can’t dig his nose any further into your cheek or he might poke a hole there. But he wants to, so he tries.

You’re ravenous, not with desire but with love, the purest and sweetest form of it. You’re so glad to have him back, to really have him back, that you can’t care about your leg falling asleep where it’s bent awkwardly against his lap, or the stickiness of his tears on your cheeks. All you care about is Bradley, all you know is Bradley, all you ever want to know is Bradley.

He reaches for your hand while still engaged in the kiss, and you swear you feel your heart crack when you pull yourself away to stop him in his tracks.

“Wait,” You pant, wondering why he’s doing the same when he’d practically stolen the air from your lungs, “You’re absolutely sure you want to marry me? Even though-”

“Jesus,” Bradley huffs, keeping the ring in one hand and reaching for your face in the other. He squishes your cheeks together, until your lips are puckered and he can brace his forehead against your own, eyes wide and grin exasperated, “Yes! Yes, I really want to marry you, even though you left, even though you lied. I lied, too, honey. You left because you were scared, and that’s why I lied. I get it, okay? I’m not gonna turn on you, I love you. I want to marry you.”

“But- but we should work through this,” You propose, pointedly not swatting him away when he poises the ring over your marriage finger.

“Okay. We can work through it in marriage counseling,” He promises with a breathless smile, the expression wholly genuine because for the first time in three weeks, he’s confident you’ll say yes, “Because I want to marry you. Do you want to marry me?”

You’re not fucking this up a third time.

“Yes!” You gush, and you squeal when he jams the ring onto your finger, moving in for a kiss far more eagerly than you’re prepared for. It’s like being greeted by an overexcited puppy, one that’s a bit too big to be ramming into you, but that you can’t tell no. He kisses you voraciously, joining your hands together so that the metal band on your ring finger rubs against his own skin.

“I love you,” You pant, in a rare moment of being able to drag oxygen into your lungs, “And- I’m sorry. I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.” Bradley swears, kissing you again before you can murmur any more apologies, “It’s okay. We’ll be okay, baby. We’ll work through it. You were scared, so I’ll help you however I can so that you’re not so scared. And I was scared, so I’ll probably be a bit of a clinger for a while. That’s it, baby, we don’t have to break up.” He promises, “That’s all it is, honey. We can work through it. We love each other, we can do this.”

“We do love each other,” Saying it feels like a blessing you’re casting over yourselves, an affirmation that you want to say in the mirror ten times before starting your day, “I love you, Bradley.”

“I love you too, Y/N,” He hums, dissuaded very little when you turn your head to look for your phone. He presses the same frequency of kisses to your cheek as he had your lips, and you let him smooch away at your face while you hunt for the device.

“Here!” You find it tangled in the bedsheets, “Brad, let’s tell everyone.”

“Hm?” He glances sideways at your phone, “Oh. Yeah, my parents are probably worried.”

“My dad, too.” You hum, “I told him at the store earlier.”

“I told my parents then, too.” He confesses, “But- but they’re not mad at you, or anything honey, they understand.”

You marvel at the revelation, that that's the reason Carole had been so confident bidding you goodbye.

“I.. told your mom already,” You realize you still haven’t put all of his puzzle pieces together for him, “Uh, she knew before you woke up, actually. She was the one to suggest that I pretend nothing happened. She didn’t want you to be too stressed in the hospital.”

His brow furrows where he’s in the middle of kissing your jaw, and he pulls back to evaluate the new information. But he’s not angry, more exhausted. He chuckles weakly, “I told her today, she pretended she had no idea. Damn, that woman is a good actor.”

“Very good,” You agree, snatching Bradley’s hand out of his lap to curl your own over the back of it. Your hands are stacked palm-to-back, with Bradley’s resting on the blanket and yours overtop. Your ring glistens in the afternoon sunlight and snapping a picture of it is one of the most gratifying things in the world, second only to the feeling of it laying permanently on your finger. You’ll have to put this one in the photo album, the beginning of a new chapter.

Bradley doesn’t let go of your hand after you snap the picture, only flips his own beneath it so that he can hold it more securely. He puts his chin over your shoulder to kiss your cheek as you use your only free hand to type out a group text message to your family members. Bradley’s squadron will be next on the list, but for now, your family receives the shot of your hands intertwined, a ring glistening on yours.

I said yes this time.💗

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

#bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw oneshot #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x reader fanfiction #bradley bradshaw blurb #bradley bradshaw drabble #rooster #rooster x reader #rooster imagine #rooster x you #rooster oneshot #rooster blurb #rooster drabble #rooster fanfiction #rooster x reader fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw oneshot #rooster angst #rooster fluff #bradley bradshaw angst #bradley bradshaw fluff

[foreverrandomwritings]

Desperation

Summary: Work has been stressful and that left you wrongfully getting snippy with your boyfriends. They make sure to get the attitude out of you. Things go a little unplanned at the end. 

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x afab!Reader x Jake “Hangman” Seresin

Warnings: GUYS THIS IS PURE FILTHY SMUT PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION! MDNI 18+ ONLY! I’m not going to put every warning in here just know there’s a lot.

Word count: 5266

Masterlist 

You could barely remember how you got to this point. A puddle of mixed cum, saliva, tears and sweat. You knew however this was exactly what you needed. You had been stressed to the max at work all week. Working longer hours had you rolling through the door to scarf down dinner and crawl into bed. Your boyfriends had been patient with you, taking your attitude with a grain of salt. They had been making your breakfast, lunch and dinners. They even waited up for you to get home so they could make sure you ate dinner and got into bed snuggly. 

But tonight had been a tipping point for them. You were all supposed to go to The Hard Deck that night. Fanboy, Payback and Fritz had just gotten back from another successful mission and you were all meant to be celebrating. However you had started mouthing off to them over everything while you were getting ready. The stress of the week with no outlet for it had caused it to bottle up and the cap was slowly twisting off. The final straw was when Bradley had kindly reminded you that you needed to leave in fifteen minutes while you were in the middle of doing your hair. 

It was rare for both boys to be done getting ready before you were. They both spent forever on their hair and Jake also took forever picking out what to wear. You were normally fine throwing on jeans and a t-shirt with your hair in its natural state or a ponytail. Today however you wanted to look more confident. So you had spent time picking your outfit, put some mascara on and actually decided to do your hair. 

“Hey honey, just wanted to remind you that we have to be out the door by 5:45 if we want to get there by 6:00.” Bradley’s head popped around the doorframe as he spoke. You looked at him in the mirror with narrowed eyes. Fingers pausing their work on the braid you were twisting your hair into. 

“I will be out soon. Stop rushing me.” You winced as soon as the words left your mouth. You turned to apologize to him but the disappointed look on his face had you stopping in place. He shook his head at you, clicking his tongue as he did. 

“We’ve been extremely patient with you this week. We know how hard it is to have a crazy work schedule. But we won’t deal with the bratiness anymore.” His large body had come fully into the doorframe now, filling it up almost completely, his arms crossed along his chest. 

“I really didn’t mean it. I’m sorry.” you started to move closer to him, hands falling from your hair, the strands unraveling as you did. 

“Not another word. I’m gonna call Jake in here and we’re gonna take care of that attitude of yours.” Your eyes widened at his words and you closed the gap between your bodies. Your hands came up to meet the rough skin of his arms, you placed them there gently looking into his eyes. 

“You don’t need to do that. I promise to behave the rest of the night. You don’t need to call for him.” You pouted your lips at him, hoping the puppy dog look would win him over. He was the softer one of the two and would often break against you first. You really wanted to go out to the bar tonight. You knew you almost had him when his shoulders relaxed and he let out a slow breath through his nose. 

“What are y’all doing in here? We gotta go, it's 5:47.” as Jake's voice filled your bedroom behind Bradley you knew you had lost. Bradley stepped back out of the bathroom causing both of your hands to drop from him. You twisted them both together sheepishly as Jake came to stand beside Bradley. 

“Either of you going to answer me or do I have to try and figure it out on my own?” Bradley looked at you expectantly but you averted your eyes to the tile of your bathroom floor. Jake and you had put the black and white porcelain down together while Bradley was on a weekend trip with Maverick. 

“You gonna tell him honey or do I need to?” Bradleys question had Jake stepping towards you. He put a thumb on your chin and his pointer finger underneath your chin. You tried to resist his hold as he brought your face upwards but the effort was fruitless. Your eyes met his blue ones and you started chewing on your bottom lip aggressively. 

“What do you need to tell me darling?” The softness of his words were a trick and you knew it. He was always the harder one of the two and the second you told him what happened you’d be in for it. 

“I’m sorry.” you said quietly, begging for forgiveness now in hopes they would take it easy on you later. 

“What are you sorry for?” His thumb came to run against the softness of your bottom lip. Your eyes flicked to Bradley over his shoulder and he nodded his head at you encouragingly. 

“I snapped at Bradley. But I didn’t mean to.” you watched as his tongue came out to lick across his lips and his hand dropped from your face. 

“We took such great care of you this week and you’ve been bratty nonstop. We’ve taken it easy on you because we knew you were stressed. But you know what happens when you’re a brat.” you pouted your lips at him even though you knew it wouldn't help at all. 

“We’re gonna fuck that attitude out of you so no need to worry.” Your stomach twisted into knots at his words. It had been a while since you had sex with either of the boys. The need had been there all week and now that the opportunity was presenting itself to you you were hesitant. They always made sure you were taken care of, but you knew you were in trouble this time. You sent a glare at Bradley for putting you in this situation and he gave you a wink in return.

“Don’t look at him like he’s the reason you’re in this situation.” his hand came into contact with your cheek in a mild slap, soft enough it didn’t hurt but hard enough to get your attention. 

“You put yourself here baby and you know it. You’re a big girl and you need to start acting like it.” Bradley’s the one who talked this time, voice raspy with lust. 

“Let’s take you to bed and we’ll get that stress out of you.” Jake didn’t give you a choice as he grabbed your hand and led you to the king size mattress, Bradley was quick to follow. A gasp left your lips as the blonde put his hands on your hips and tossed you unceremoniously onto the soft black and gray marble comforter. You bounced twice before finally stilling, hair laid out around your head messily. You had been thrown horizontally across the bed so your head was on one side and your feet on the other. 

“You won’t need these.” Bradley started to work your pants off you, unbuttoning them and wanking them down your legs. Jake stood behind him shedding his clothes. His cock was already half hard when he pulled his boxers down his legs. He rounded the bed to stand by your head and looked down at you. His cock was in one of his hand’s, stroking himself up and down slowly. You wetted your lips in anticipation looking at him as best you could from your upside down position. 

You felt Bradley’s large hands running up your legs and you looked down at him rising onto your elbows to do so. He looked down at your black lace underwear before looking back up at you. You started to protest what you knew he was about to do. You had lost way too many pairs of underwear due to the rough nature of the aviators. This time was going to be no different. Bradley gave you a sly smirk as he tore the material haphazardly. The sound of the material tearing had you throwing your head back against the bed exasperated. 

“That was my favorite pair.” you whined out to the blonde, he rolled his eyes at your words. 

“We’ll take you shopping for a new pair tomorrow.” Jake reassured you as you stared up at him. You frequented a little boutique up in town so much that Bradley’s card was on file and they knew you by name.  

“Color?” Bradley asked as he pried your legs apart, the cold air of the room meeting your already wet cunt caused a cold chill to go through your body. 

“Green.” you answered back quickly and assertively. That was all the taller man needed before he was licking, nipping and sucking the skin of your legs, his mustache tickling you the whole way. Your eyes screwed shut as he worked closer to where you needed him the most. 

“Oh f-f-fuck daddy.” Slipped through your lips as Bradley’s tongue swept through your folds. Your hands fisted the comforter below you harshly, legs already shaking from the feeling of him between your legs. 

“Scoot up a little bit.” Jake grunted out causing your eyes to snap open. You did as he instructed and shimmed up quickly, Bradley’s mouth chasing you as you did. One of his hands was wrapped around your thigh. You hung your head off the side of the bed opening your mouth expectantly. A moment passed without him moving and you whimpered out. 

“Did you forget how to ask?” He seemed disappointed in you which had a lump forming in your throat.

“Can I please suck your cock sir?” You asked him politely, barely getting the words out as Bradley sucked your clit between his lips softly, your eyes falling shut at the feeling. 

“Good girl.” Then his cock was in your mouth, the angle was awkward but you made it work. Tongue swirling around the tip, the taste of his precum taking over your mouth. He groaned when you hollowed your cheeks around him. You brought a hand up from the comforter to fondle his balls carefully. 

“You’re doing so good.” you moaned around him at the praise. Legs squeezing around Bradleys head as one of his hands came up to your center. He slipped two long fingers inside you slowly, scissoring them gently. He moaned into you when your other hand came down to pull his hair harshly. 

You could feel the familiar warmth building up as he continued his movements. Jake was working himself in and out of your mouth at a rougher pace than Bradley had set with his fingers. That was the usual dynamic Jake quick, rough and stern while Bradley was slow, gentle and playful. The only time Bradley was rough was after a bad day when he needed to let off some steam. Then the only time Jake was gentle was after rough missions, where he wasn’t sure he was going to make it back home to you. 

“You’re getting sloppy, princess.” You hadn’t meant to lose some of your focus on him but the orgasm building up within you had your brain becoming hazy. 

“You’re close aren’t you?” He asked you even though he already knew the answer. You moaned around him in reply. 

“You can cum.” you furrowed your brows at his words. Normally when you were bratty they would deny your orgasm and not let you have any. But you didn’t stay on the thought for long as your toes curled and climaxed around Bradleys fingers and on his tongue. You gagged around Jake as he shoved his cock to the back of your throat roughly. Stilling his movements and swearing quietly at the feeling of your throat closing around him. 

You had expected Bradley to stop once you had your orgasm but he only continued. Fingers continuing their scissoring motion and tongue continuing to lick your clit. You had tears in your eyes when Jake slipped from your mouth, hand falling away from his balls. Jake backed away as you blinked your eyes open. Your vision was a bit blurry with all the blood rushing to your head. 

“What’s your color Princess?” Jake's voice was even and calm, you opened your mouth to answer when Bradley added a third finger sweeping them in a come hither motion. You let out a pathetic whine instead, knuckles turning white as you gripped his hair. 

“Bradley, knock it off for a second.” Bradley hummed into your wet folds in reply, slowing his movements slightly. 

“Green, my color is green.” you spat the words out, one of your hands coming up to your breast. You palmed it through the shirt and bra you had on roughly. You watched Jake walk to the bedside table that held most of your toys which was conveniently right next to him. He pulled the drawer open and grabbed out a little bag. He opened it quickly before retrieving a dark blue ring from it. He rolled it down the length of his cock settling it into place. He slipped out a dark red one and wrapped it around 2 of his fingers. That one would be given to Bradley when he was done between your legs. 

“How many should we give her, Rooster.” You could feel the hand that was wrapped around your thigh move away momentarily but you didn’t have the sense to lift your head to look at the five fingers he held up. 

“I think that’s doable. We’ve already got one done.” Jake climbed onto the foot of the bed next to you sitting on his legs, cock proudly on display. Your head was still dangling off the side of the bed and the blood rush was starting to make you loopy. Jake must have realized this with his instruction for Bradley to move you back down the bed. Bradley did so quickly, using the hand around your thigh to tug you down. 

“Get off that.” Jake slapped your hand away from your breast at the words. 

“Sir.” You pleaded with him, eyes zeroing in on his tanned body. 

“Be patient.” He scolded you, you didn’t have to be patient too long as he pulled your shirt and bra off your upper body quickly. You placed your hand back into Bradley’s hair as he threw the clothes somewhere in the room. He brought a hand to your breast, rolling your already hard nipple between his rough fingers. You hissed when he pulled back and smacked it harshly. 

“What was that for?” You asked him breathlessly, his answer was another harsh slap right at the same time that Bradley sucked your clit again. You hadn’t expected the orgasm that ripped through you as the pain and pleasure intertwined deliriously. 

“Yellow.” you whispered out, your clit was over stimulated and needed a break. Bradley gave your clit one last little lick before he was reluctantly pulling away. His mustache, mouth and chin were all covered in your slick. It was at that moment you realized that neither of them had kissed you yet. 

“You okay baby girl?” Bradley was stroking your thighs as Jake stroked your hair. 

“Need a just a minute to recover.” Your chest was heaving as you came down from the high that just overtook your body. You closed your eyes for a few seconds trying to get your bearings. When you opened them again you saw Bradley and Jake with their lips locked together. Bradley was standing and had a hand on the back of Jake’s head and Jake was stroking himself again.

“Please” you begged them, the word coming out whiner than you intended it to. But it reflected the desperation you were feeling perfectly. You weren’t sure if you were desperate for one of them to kiss you or if you were already desperate for their touch again. 

“What does the whiney little princess want now?” Jake teased you as he pulled away from Bradley, a string of saliva and cum connected them together briefly. You ignored his words and turned your attention to Bradley. He gave you a big smile and grabbed your hand when you reached it out to him. 

“Can I have a kiss daddy?” you asked him, pouting your lips and fluttering your eyelashes seductively. He let out a loud laugh and placed one knee on the bed between your legs. He braced himself with his hands on either side of you as he came to hover above you. You used his clothes as an advantage, gripping the white tank top between your fingers and pulling him down to you. You could taste your cum, the spearmint of Jake from his toothpicks and the mustache oil that Bradley used within the kiss. 

He started the kiss slowly, lips colliding softly but you wanted more. You nipped at his bottom lip and rolled your cunt up into his clothed thigh. He didn’t part his lips as you had hoped he would and you realized he was playing a little game. Trying to see how desperate you would get for him to give in. You threaded a hand through his hair and pulled on it roughly. He groaned into your mouth and you used that opportunity to slip your tongue into his. You grinned into the kiss victoriously. Jake cleared his throat loudly and you both pulled away from each other reluctantly. 

“Thank you daddy.” You gave him a final peck on the lips before turning to look at Jake. 

“Don’t you think daddy has far too many clothes on?” He seemed to think about it for a moment before nodding his head. 

“Far too many clothes, princess.” You both turned your gaze to your shared boyfriend who was still hovering above you. 

“Alright I got it, I’ll get undressed.” Bradley huffed out at you exasperatedly. He backed up and stood, quickly shedding off his clothes leaving you and Jake to stare at him eagerly. 

“This is for you.” Jake took the red cock ring off his fingers and handed it to Bradley. He hissed lowly as he rolled it down his already throbbing cock, the tip leaking precum and bright red. 

“Are you going to fuck me daddy?” you asked him innocently when he got the ring into place. He shook his head at you and Jake grinned. 

“I wanna watch him fuck you into this matress baby girl. Then I’ll fuck you nice and slow, promise.” Jake beamed at him before climbing over your body to situate himself between your legs. You spread them open for him knowing he didn’t like to ask. 

“Your pretty little cunt already looks so spent Princess. Daddy did a good job taking care of you.” Bradley gave out a thankful grunt at the praise, settling himself in the armchair of your room. You had the idea to put it there for nights like these. Where you weren’t intertwined with each other but one of you preferred to watch the others. It was the perfect view of the bed and fit Bradley’s large frame comfortably. 

“You gonna take good care of me sir?” you already knew he would but Jake was a sucker for dirty talk. 

“Always, princess.” His fingers came to sweep through your folds collecting the slick still there and rubbing it along his length. He laid a heavy hand on your inner thigh and dipped his head down slightly. You felt the warmth of his spit on your cunt before his fingers mixed it with your cum. 

“Who made you this wet princess?” It was a rhetorical question and you all knew it but you answered anyway. 

“You and daddy, sir.” You pulled your lip in between your teeth as he probed the tip of his cock at your entrance. 

“Good girl.” He punctuated the sentence with a quick thrust, seething himself inside you. You were thankful that Bradley had worked you open so well with his fingers earlier. He wrapped a hand around your throat and your fingers flew up to dig into the flesh of his bicep. 

“Green?” You nodded in reply, unable to form words with his hand around your throat and the feeling of him filling you up so nicely. 

“What did we do to deserve such a beauty, Bradshaw?” You blushed at his words. No matter how many times he complimented you it still made you feel breathtaking. 

“I don’t know but I know we ain’t ever gonna let her go.” an inaudible moan slipped from your mouth at his reply, the assurance of your future making your walls clamp around Jake.

“Did you like that Princess?” Jake hummed at you pulling out and slamming back in. You groaned out in reply, eyes glancing over towards your brunette boyfriend. But you couldn’t see him with the way Jake was wrapped around your throat. 

“Want us to make you our wife one day?” He pulled back out and thrusted back in. Your grip on his bicep tightened, crescent shapes impeded in his skin from your finger nails. Eyes squeezing shut, willinging yourself to stay still, to let Jake take complete control. 

“We’ll make you our wife, just got to be patient.” Then he was pulling back out and thrusting back in. His hips slamming in and out of you at a hurried pace, his hand squeezed around your neck lightly and the room was a mix of noises, whimpers, moans, groans, praises and slapping noises. The coil inside of you was so close to coming apart but you just needed more. You opened your eyes to see Jake already looking at you. He seemed to read your mind as the hand that wasn’t wrapped around your throat floated down between your bodies. His thumb circling your clit with the same pace as his thrusts. 

“Come on princess. Cum on my cock.” Jake’s encouragement was all it took for the coil to snap. Your mouth fell open in a silent scream, legs spasming as he continued to fuck you through your climax. He let go of your throat and pulled out of you with a deep groan, rolling the cock ring off himself. He stroked himself once, then twice, then a third time before his cum shot out over your aching cunt. You stared up at the ceiling, ears buzzing. You hadn’t even noticed Jake crawl off the bed and Bradley take his place until you felt Bradley’s large hand brush some of your hair off your sweaty forehead. 

“Where’d he go?” the words came out a scratchy slurred mess, it was a miracle that Bradley understood what you were saying. 

“He went to get stuff ready for the aftercare baby girl.” You nodded at him weakly, arms coming up to wrap around his neck. 

“Will you fill me up daddy?” the emptiness you felt had tears forming in your eyes.

“You sure? We can stop now.” You knew he meant it, but you also knew he hadn’t cum yet and you wanted to feel him cum inside of you. 

“Still on green daddy and I want to feel you inside me. Please.” You begged him, voice tear filled at your desperation. 

“Alright baby girl, I’ve got you.” He wiggled an arm under your back wrapping it around your waist. He moved himself so he was sitting with his back amongst the pillows and headboard of your large bed. You were placed on his lap carefully. He gave you a moment to take a deep breath before lifting your hips and lowering you onto his cock. He buried his head in your neck as your cum covered cunt squeezed around his cock. 

“Feels so good daddy. I love when you and sir fill me with your cocks.” You weren’t sure how you formed the sentence but you were thankful that you did. Bradley sucked a mark into your neck before slowly moving your hips in a back and forth motion. Every brush of your clit along the well groomed skin of his pelvis had you sucking in a breath. 

He pulled his head out from your neck and brought a hand up to your breast. He held it in his calloused hand, palming it gently. You groaned loudly, throwing your head back when his mouth came around your nipple. The wet feeling of his tongue flicking the bud had you squeezing your legs around his waist as best you could. You brought a hand to the back of his head holding it in place. 

“Daddy.” you had tears streaming down your face as another climax approached you. Your stomach was tight and your chest was heaving. Your head was swimming in euphoria. 

“It’s alright daddy’s got you. Go ahead.” He pulled away from your chest to get the sentence out before focusing on your other breast. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.” The word tumbled out of your mouth like a prayer. You clenched around him harshly, his hands continued to pull you back and forth. He groaned and you felt his cum painting your walls. He must have taken his cock ring off at some point while Jake was buried inside of you earlier. 

“You look so fucking gorgeous making a mess on me baby girl.” Bradley’s voice brought you back down to earth. You pulled his head back harshly, meeting his lips with your own. He matched your languid pace, dipping his tongue into your mouth, swallowing your quiet blissed out sobs. 

“You get another one from her?” Jake spoke from beside the both of you. You pulled apart and reached for him, but stayed in your place on Bradley’s lap. 

“Kiss please.” was all you said and he nodded at you understandingly. You always liked to kiss them after a long and intense session. It made you feel connected to the pair in ways they’d never fully grasp no matter how many times you tried to explain it to them. His lips met your own and he kissed you slowly tongue dipping out to run along your lips but never trying to slip any farther. 

“She’s still got one more to go.” Bradleys large hands squeezed your waist and you pulled back from Jake.

“I’m gonna go ahead and jump into the shower, join me when you’re done.” You also liked to have one on one time with the both of them. Bradley slowly pulled you off him, your mixed cum dripped down your legs onto his lap as you went. You blubbered wantonly and tried to grip onto him.  

“Take a deep breath. You’ll see me soon. You’re gonna spend some time with Jake babygirl.” Your brain finally caught up with what was happening and you reached for Jake weakly. 

“There ya go princess I got you.” Jake’s voice was soothing as he whispered into your ear. He held you as Bradley climbed out of the bed. The tall man moved into the bathroom swiftly and you heard the shower turn on then Jake was laying you back on the bed. Your legs dangling loosely over the side of the bed. In the same position as when you first started. 

“I’m gonna clean up our mess. Is that alright?” You couldn’t form any words so you reached for his hand and squeezed it. 

“Are you green?” You squeezed his hand again and he gave you a wink before dropping to his knees. He threw your legs over his shoulders and blew a puff of cold air into your wet folds. You brought your hand to his head and pushed on it weakly. He huffed out a laugh before he dove between your legs. Where Bradley was soft and gentle Jake was frantic and rough. He lapped at you hungrily, tongue fucking you like you were his last meal. You screamed out as your fifth climax of the night ripped through you unexpectedly. Your vision went white and everything around you went silent. 

When you came to you felt two pairs of hands on you and warm water running down your back. Your legs were wrapped around someone and their hands were holding you to them. Your arms thrown around their neck lazily. You dug your face into the neck of the person holding you and brushed against a set of scars and you knew it was Bradley. So that meant that Jake’s hands had to have been the ones rubbing up and down your arms soothingly.

“What happened?” your voice came out small barely above a whisper. 

“We lost you there for a minute.” Bradley’s chest rumbled against your own as he spoke.  

“Had us worried darlin’.” Jake's southern twang was thick as it usually was after sex. 

“I’m alright. Just a little hungry.” your sentence was solidified with your stomach growling. Both of them chuckled at the noise. You kissed Bradley’s neck a couple of times before turning to Jake. He had a sad look in his eyes that slowly went away when you smiled at him. 

“You didn’t know it was going to happen Jakey. I’m okay now. You took care of me and that’s all that matters. I love you.” He gave you a weak smile and stepped closer to you to give you a chaste kiss. 

“I love you too.” He pecked your lips between each word. 

“I love you too Brad.” His nose scrunched up at the nickname you had bestowed upon him. 

“I also love you Brad.” His eyes narrowed at Jake which earned him a shit eating grin. 

“I regretfully love you both for some unknown reason.” you and Jake both gasped at his words. 

“Not to interrupt the sentiment but our doordash should be here soon. So we need to be done here soon.” Jake must have ordered the food while you and Bradley were together. The boys helped you wash your hair and your body. Bradley had already showered before you had gotten in there and Jake washed himself quickly before stepping out of the shower, he wrapped himself in his towel. Then Bradley stepped out and Jake wrapped you in a towel before taking you from his arms. Even though you insisted you could walk. 

“I’m gonna go grab our clothes from the dryer and put the comforter in the washer.” It was a ritual for one of them to put the clothes in the dryer so you would all feel warm and cozy after sex. It proved to be one of your favorite aftercare activities. Jake set you down carefully before drying himself off and gathering up underwear for the three of you. Bradley slipped back into the room tossing Jake your clothes and grabbing your towels. He hung them back on the towel warmer Jake had insisted on purchasing. 

You slipped on your underwear and the moomoo with Jake and Bradley’s face all over it that they had gifted you for your last birthday. Jake slipped on his boxers and sweatpants. Bradley came back and slipped on his boxers and crewneck before he swept you up throwing you over his shoulder. The doorbell rang as you entered the living room and Jake went and grabbed the food. You all sat on the couch eating your sushi and watching The Sorcerers Apprentice, all the stress from earlier gone from your mind. 

A/N: I spent literally forever wrtiting this and didn’t go to bed until about 2:45 am. Likes, follows, reblogs and comments very much appreciated. 

Tags(open): @wkndwlff​ @sylviebell​ @eternallyvenus​ @loving-and-dreaming​ @princess76179​ @kmc1989​ @qjdjjexnsk​ @gspenc​ 

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[heliads]

So happy that you added top gun maverick to your fandom list. If you’re up for it could you do a Rooster x reader enemies to lovers where he’s in love with her but doesn’t want to get attached to anyone cause what happened to his dad and his repressed feelings manifest as him teasing and picking on her. She takes it like a champ and throws it right back at him (which only makes him fall for her more). One day she gets hurt (she can be another pilot or something else if you’d prefer) and she’s expecting him to make fun of her for fucking up but instead he’s very serious about taking care of her. Then they both confess their feelings for each other.

i am always up for top gun

masterlist

y/c means your callsign btw

In a world as crazy as that of the US Navy pilots, you’ve learned to treasure the brief moments of peace. They come few and far between, usually overshadowed by missions of great calamity. Those you can find, though, are certainly wonderful indeed. 

You’re in the midst of one of such instances of tranquility now, staring over the railing of a balcony high up in one of the administrative buildings. It offers you a beautiful view of the ocean, which is not too far off in the distance. It’s just you and your best friend Phoenix. Also the pilot you hate most of all briskly walking your way. 

Rooster. 

No. 

Thus another blissful moment is ruined. You turn to Natasha with a look of utter horror, and she has to clap a hand over her mouth to stop from breaking out in laughter. You glance around for a chance to flee, but Bradshaw’s too close, there’s nothing you can do but face him.

His footsteps stop behind you, and your knuckles tighten on the balcony railing. “Rooster. How wonderful of you to ruin my morning.”

You don’t have to look behind you to know that Rooster’s fixing you with the same smug grin he always seems to wear whenever you’re around. “Y/C. Still searching for ways to be faster than me? I admit, the ocean is pretty big and beautiful and all that, but it still might not be deep enough to hold all the secrets you’d need to beat my records.”

You snort. “A puddle would hold all the secrets I’d need to beat you. I already do that.”

You turn around at last, and Bradley folds his arms across his chest, the perfect picture of military indignation. “Is that so?” He asks slowly, “because I seem to remember Maverick struggling way more to take me out yesterday morning than he did for you.”

“I recall it being the opposite that afternoon,” you reply. “I wouldn’t blame you for having a bad memory, though. You’re bad at everything.”

By your side, Phoenix makes a choking sound that’s most likely her trying to disguise another laugh. “Keep it down, you guys. We only get one morning off from practice, and I’m trying to enjoy it without the constant sound of you two sniping at each other.”

“You don’t have to worry about Rooster sniping at me,” you say pleasantly, “he’d never hit. Just like in a plane.”

You think you see Rooster’s jaw drop, just a little. “So not true. I’d kick your ass in a dogfight any day if Maverick would let us fight each other instead of him.”

You arch a brow. “Then how about you ask him to let us fight? You’re close to him, aren’t you? Go use your advantage for an actual result instead of just trying to get a better showing than me. At least that’s a reasonable goal.”

Bradley scoffs. “That so? I think you’d go down in about half a second.”

“Not a chance,” you declare, “I’d have you in my sights in less time than it takes you to do a roll.”

“Prove it,” Rooster says, “I’d hate to think you’re just talk.”

During the course of the conversation/expressions of deep hatred, you and Bradley have slowly gravitated towards each other, unconsciously taking a step forward in an attempt to get the upper hand. Right now, the two of you are practically breathing down each other’s shirts, neither willing to back down first.

It takes Natasha sighing exasperatedly and shoving the two of you apart for the situation to ease. “Back off, you two. Is it possible for you to stop fighting for two seconds? You’re worse than Hangman.”

You chuckle. “That’s a pretty terrible comparison. Alright, Nat, let’s go somewhere with a better view. I’m getting tired of this one at the moment.”

You widen your eyes in mock horror as you say it, and Rooster rolls his eyes. Ignoring him, you link your arm around Phoenix’s and lead her away. 

Natasha starts grinning once Bradley is out of earshot. “You guys are insane, you know that? At some point, you’re going to have to stop flirting with each other and actually go get drinks or something.”

You nearly choke on your own indignation. “Flirting? Natasha Trace, you must be out of your mind. I’m not flirting in the slightest.”

“You must be serious, you’re using my full name,” Phoenix muses, “but you’re wrong. You guys have more tension than anyone I’ve ever seen.”

“Yeah,” you agree, “tension because we hate each other. Bad tension.”

“Good tension,” she argues, “because you love each other dearly.”

You shove her on the shoulder, but the action only serves to make Natasha’s smile broaden. “You can’t say anything to convince me otherwise,” she reminds you, “I know what I see.”

You roll your eyes. “You might have to get your vision checked if you’re that blind.”

Despite your comebacks, you can’t be annoyed with Phoenix forever, even if she’s way off in her predictions of what is to come between you and Rooster. She’s your best friend, both among the pilots and outside of work.

That’s why she must know better than to think that you and Bradley would ever be interested in each other that way. First of all, Rooster would never allow that to happen, your own feelings be damned. He’s been a lone wolf since day one. Sure, he’ll talk to his friends, and get drinks with a big crowd just like anyone else, but he’s not looking for anyone closer than a buddy from work. That much is certain.

There are rumors, of course, about why that would be. Some whisper that Bradley lost his father in an airplane crash and so he refuses to let himself get attached to any one pilot out of fear of history repeating itself. Others say that he’s so competitive about getting the top result that he wouldn’t want to weaken himself by tying himself to another pilot.

Regardless, you know one thing for sure:  Rooster is not the kind of person to fall for you. Ever. From the moment he met you, Bradley’s been teasing you nonstop. The two of you engage in verbal warfare every time you’re stuck in a room together for longer than a minute. During aerial practice, the two of you risk your necks to outdo each other, and back on solid ground, you’re firing comebacks at each other like missiles.

Thus, the force of Bradley’s obstinance alone could thwart any idea of yours. There are no ideas of yours, though, none in the slightest. Rooster is a thorn in your side, a too-clever piece trying to stop you from crossing the chess board and beating him once and for all. If you have ever looked at him with different eyes, ones that shine instead of glare, that must be blamed on too many drinks or too many late nights. Anything else would be traitorous.

So, you turn your focus towards doing better, always doing better. Maverick’s demands for his selected group of pilots are a hair short of perfection; seeing as you’re one of them, you have to cross that line, be flawless as no other fighter pilot can be. You are the best of the best, but you must prove it every single time you crawl into your cockpit.

Maybe that’s why you end up pushing harder than you should during daily practice. Maybe that’s why you ignore every warning thrown your way that you’re going to get in trouble. In the end, you do, but not over a disciplinary violation. Instead, the danger headed your way is physical.

You didn’t crash. You feel like that should be stated another dozen times. Your plane was never impacted, nor was anyone harmed. The whole thing happened so quickly that you’d swear it was just a figment of your imagination were it not for the radio logs played over and over again, showing just what you did.

More specifically, the comms show what you didn’t do, and that was stay conscious during the flight. You’ve been burning the candle at both ends just trying to keep your place ahead of the other pilots, and it’s finally slowing you down instead of speeding you up. You were coming out of a sharp dive when the exhaustion took its toll.

You passed out then and there. Maverick’s shouting over your comms didn’t do anything to wake you up. Your eyes opened when you were far below the hard deck, plummeting towards the ground. It took every bit of skill in you to pull the nose of your plane up and save yourself from fiery impact.

Even after you landed, your trouble wasn’t over. You barely managed to climb out of the cockpit before you were passing out again, tumbling over the edge of the plane and falling towards the hard ground below. Your head would have struck the concrete if it weren’t for someone managing to catch you, and of all the people to be your savior, it was Rooster.

That still bewilders you. You ended up staying in the medical wing for a couple of hours with an IV to get your stats back to normal, but you’ve been cleared since then, let go with a warning to take it easy. From the moment you regained consciousness and learned what happened, you haven’t been able to stop wondering why Bradley would have been the one to catch your falling body and not any one of the other pilots.

For one thing, he would have had to act quickly to notice and grab you before your head hit the ground. For another, he would have had to be by your plane in the first place. That means Bradley was waiting for you, something he has obviously never done before. The whole situation makes no sense, and your mood isn’t exactly lifted to see Rooster waiting for you by the door of the med wing when you finally get out.

He’s been leaning up against the wall, but straightens up when he sees you. “Y/C. Good to see you upright.”

Your head is still a little fuzzy, and you really, really don’t want to hear him sniping at you, especially not after the results of the day. You don’t lose control, not when you’re in a plane. You can already picture him calling you out for that little lapse, so you decide to cut to the chase and cut him off before Bradley gets the chance.

You hold up a hand before he can say anything else. “I don’t want to hear it,” you warn him.

Rooster blinks in surprise. “Hear what?”

You laugh bitterly. “You’re here to make fun of me for passing out, obviously. If I hear a single joke about me falling for you, I’ll kick your knees in, how about that?”

“Well, I’d prefer if my knees stay intact,” Rooster says slowly, “besides, that’s not why I’m here.”

You stare at him, confused. “Why the hell else would you be here?”

Bradley spreads his hands. “To check in on you. You’ve got us all worried, Y/C. I just happen to prefer you alive rather than dead, and I wanted to make sure you were going to stay that way.”

This takes you by surprise. “Really?”

He laughs. “Is it really that much of a shocker that I might care about if you’re alright? I saw you fall when you were in that plane. I thought you wouldn’t be able to save yourself. I haven’t been shaken like that since–”

Bradley cuts himself off abruptly, but you sense what he was trying to say. No one has clear memories when they’re that young, but losing your father would do something to remind you of what it’s like to hurt.

You reach over and gently place a hand on Rooster’s back. “I’m okay,” you assure him, “due in part to someone making sure I stayed that way. Thanks for catching me.”

“Thanks for catching yourself when you were in the air,” he replies back, “that would have been harder for me to stop. Just don’t make it a habit. I’m not used to doubting you.”

You laugh. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you be this nice to me. Keep doing it, will you?”

Rooster’s smile is soft when you look back at him. “I don’t think that’s going to be a problem.”

It occurs to you that Phoenix might have been right. You’ll have to check in with her later and ask what other revelations she’d been keeping from you. In the meantime, you’re perfectly content to walk back with Bradley, to talk and be happy with him. You don’t think you need anything else. Not even a top finish.

top gun tag list: empty for now!

#rooster #rooster imagines #rooster x reader #rooster oneshot #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagines #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw oneshot #top gun #top gun imagines #top gun x reader #top gun oneshot #top gun rooster #top gun rooster imagines #top gun rooster x reader #top gun rooster oneshot

[witchwyfe]

Could I please request rooster + "just marry me already" ily and ty <3

Bradley (rooster) Bradshaw x female reader

“Just marry me already.”

ily!!! <3

They didn’t happen often, but when they did, beach days with Bradley were one of your favorites.

You’re stretched out on the towel now, boyfriend splayed in your lap, the back of his head at your chest, a human headrest.

Your fingers are threaded through his sun-streaked locks, massaging languidly. His fingers trace up and down your thigh softly, absent-mindedly. 

“Hey bubs?” You speak up after a while.

“Hmm?”

“Sunscreen.” You tell him, taking your hand out of his hair—eliciting a whine from him—and into your tote bag for your sunscreen.

He turns around to face you but doesn’t reach for the tube in your hand.

“Will you, do it?” He asks shyly, sliding his aviators off of his nose and pushing them into his hair.

“Only if you do it for me too.” You raise an eyebrow.

“Of course.” He smiles sweetly.

He closes his eyes expectantly, pushing his face towards you like a child. He hums softly when you spread the paste over his skin, softly rubbing it in.

When you stop, he pulls away, but your fingers lightly catch his jaw to tug him back. “C’mere babe, I missed a spot.”

“Christ, just marry me already.” He says under his breath.

“What?”

“What.” He processes, not even realizing he had spoken aloud. 

You hand him the sunscreen and lean forward. He waits until your eyes are closed to speak again.

“I said uh, just marry me already.” He speaks. “Like, I want to marry you.”

“This better not be your proposal.” You joke.

“It’s not.” He clears his throat nervously. “But if I was to propose, would you say yes?”

“We’ll see.” You tease him more, cracking an eye open to spot the pink traveling up his cheeks. You revel in his flustered state, your heart melting at the sight of it. 

“Baby,” He whines, throwing his head back a little. 

“Get me a ring and we’ll talk.”

“Way ahead of you, honey.”

© witchwyfe 2022. absolutely no reposting, translating, or modifying, even with credit.

#mine #my work #my writing #witchwyfe writing #lola's 1k #witchwyfe 1k #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #rooster x you #rooster oneshot #rooster imagine #rooster fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #rooster blurb #bradley bradshaw blurb #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #rooster prompt #bradley bradshaw prompt

[demxters]

—THE LUCKY ONE

frat!bradley bradshaw x f!reader (aka clover)

a series of connected oneshots about the development of bradley and clover’s relationship…

part of the ‘loving you’ universe

(fics are in chronological order)

—THE START

♧ this is what it feels like

»»————- ♣︎ ————-««

—BLURBS

coming soon!

»»————- ♣︎ ————-««

—extras

coming soon!

tgm taglist: @joaquinwhorres @harrycherrylove @smoothdogsgirl @t-nd-rfoot @dempy @ollyoxenfrees @potato-girl99981 @averyhotchner @2guysonascooter @loveforaugust @blue-aconite @fandom-life-12 @stiles-banshees @iamdannyday @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @breezemood @eli2447 @angelbabyange @finelytaylored @pono-pura-vida @hecate-steps-on-me@blueoorchid @aviatorobsessed @blackwidownat2814 @hallecarey1 @averagereader35 @laneylovesglen @atarmychick007 @kajjaka @urfavelocagirl @clancycumber230 @memeorydotcom @kmc1989 @percysaidnever @thestarspangledcaptain

#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw oneshot #rooster x reader #rooster x y/n #rooster x you #rooster oneshot #bradley bradshaw x f!reader #rooster x f!reader #frat!bradley bradshaw x reader #college!au #loving you universe #rooster x clover 🍀

[promisingyounglady]

stranger. | BB x Reader

SYNOPSIS: drunk hookup, no names exchanged, bradley is a pussy eating king.

PAIRING: Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

You pant, breathing heavily

“W-What’s your name again?”

A head pops up from in between your legs, giving you a sight that makes you delirious from the sheer sexiness of it all.

He’s golden, the warm light from the bedside table lamp, casting a glow on his pink cheeks. Dog tags hang from his collar bones.

He’s got pretty eyes, a strong nose and a shit-eating grin covered by a mustache that’s dripping in your slick.

You hadn’t even had time to even exchange names, only knowing that you were mutual friends of Jake who met at tonight’s party. One too many shots later and you’re here getting eaten out by a fighter pilot you don’t even know the name of.

He comes forward, leaning into your breath as he mutters softly. “Bradley. Bradshaw.”

You moan, feeling how his hands slide up your body as he utters his name, embarrassingly squirming under his touch.

“Say it back” He requests, deep brown eyes gazing into yours.

You oblige, moaning his name in a breathless whisper.

“Bradley”

He smiles, kissing you to shut you up before he goes down back in between your legs, pecks littered against the flesh of your inner thighs.

“Say my name and then ask me to eat you out”

You almost can’t believe your ears. You look down, gripping the sheets as you stare the smug bastard down.

“Nicely” he adds, pressing a kiss to your puffy clit as he smirks.

You throw your head back, eyes shutting as you mumble embarrassingly. “Eat me bradley”

His hands roam to your tits, giving them a squeeze

“Louder” he replies, muffled as he’s concentrated in stuffing his face in your vagina, choosing to give small unsatisfying licks until you say it properly.

You cry out, chest rising. “Eat me out, Bradley” you grit, moaning when he finally swipes his nose along your pussy, giving you what you want.

“I don’t like you.” you huff, glaring at the head of hair you’re running your hands through.

You feel him smile against your mound, coming up to snarkily change the topic.

“What’s your name?”

#fic: accident #oneshot #bradley bradsaw x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw smut #bradley bradshaw oneshot #bradley bradshaw angst #bradley bradshaw fluff #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw imagine #top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick smut #bradley rooster x reader #bradley rooster x y/n #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfic #miles teller smut #miles teller fanfic #miles teller oneshot #miles teller #rooster x reader #rooster smut #rooster x you #promising young lady : enid writes📝 #my writing lowkey shit sorry