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vivwritesfics · 2 days

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Slow Down, You're Gonna Crash

Chapter Eight

Summary: Being a Verstappen means realising that you'll never be as good as her brother. She knew it. That was why she ran away to California. Of course, she's gonna fall for the older, naval aviator. And, of course, it pisses her family off.

Bradley Bradshaw x F1!Driver Reader

1.7K

Warnings: Smut, P in V

Series Masterlist

Bradley Bradshaw couldn't believe that nobody had ever had goodbye sex with her. With the sweet, slightly annoying girl below him.

Her nails clawed at his back as he tipped her over the edge. She cried out as she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close, shoving her head against his neck. "Roo," she whispered over and over again.

"I got you, princess," he whispered at the feeling of her teeth against his skin. "Almost there."

He spilled inside of the condom and pulled out of her, pulling away from her body. A whine left her lips when he stepped away from her and deposited the condom into the bin. "I'm here," he mumbled as he crawled back onto the bed and pulled her into his chest.

"'m gonna miss you when you're in Miami."

She looked up at him and kissed his chest. "Could come with me," she said quietly as she settled her head against his chest and shut her eyes. God, he was so comfy, If she never left his arms, she would have been so happy. Part of her was so tempted to stay here instead of going to Miami.

But she couldn't do that when she'd already promised Logan that she'd be there.

Again, Bradley pulled away. "Where the hell are you going?" She groaned and reached towards him, trying to pull him back.

"Calm down, Chicken!" He called as he disappeared into the hall. "Just gonna get something to clean you up!"

She huffed as she laid back on the bed and folded her arms over her chest. But this level of care had her feeling so fucking warm inside. And it was all because of Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw.

He drove her to the airport the next day. "Call me when you land?" He asked, sunglasses covering his eyes.

"'course, Roo," she whispered and climbed out of the Bronco.

For just a second, Bradley sat there, watching as she grabbed her bag from the back of the Bronco. For a second longer, he watched her as she turned away.

No, this wasn't a proper goodbye.

It was a split second decision that had Bradley climbing out of the Bronco. "Chicken!" He shouted, and she turned back around.

Within a second she was running towards him and jumping into his arms. Bradley caught her and held her still as he kissed her. This. This was a proper goodbye. "Holy shit, I'll miss you," he whispered against her lips. "But you're gonna have the best time."

"Three days," she said as she held his jaw, thumb moving across his scar. "I'll be back in three days."

"That's three days too long."

He let her go, waited until she was in the airport and gone from his sight before he climbed back into the Bronco. Fuck, he was going to miss her, more than she could ever know.

***

Logan Sargeant was her best friend, hands down. There he was, waiting for her outside of the airport. He didn't look like himself, and she knew she wouldn't have recognised him without the picture he'd sent just before she'd gotten on the plane.

Her running towards him might have given him away. She ran towards him and threw her arms around his neck, her bag hitting his back.

"Holy fuck, it's good to see you," she said as she squeezed him.

"Good to see you, too, Verstappen."

Logan took her bag from her, placed it into the back of his car and climbed in as she climbed into the passenger seat. The car was so low compared to the Bronco, it felt so strange. "So, what's kept you in the States?" He asked with a sly smile.

She couldn't stop herself from rolling her eyes as she leaned her head against the window. "Why does something have to keep me here, Sarge? Can't I just want to be here?"

Logan spared her a quick glance, eyebrow quirked up and a grin on her lips. "No, no you can't."

The rest of the journey was filled with them just talking, updating each other on their lives. She didn't tell him about Bradley. No, he was just for her.

Now, don't get it wrong. If Bradley had come with her, she would have been happy to introduce him to Logan. But he wasn't there, and he was just for her.

It transported her back to her childhood, staying with Logan and his family before the Grand Prix. They stayed for the Thursday night, before heading to the track and their nearby hotel together. It was just like old times, something she had missed so much over the years.

On the Friday, she headed to the track. It was just an hour before the first practice session, the rest of the morning having been spent on the phone with Bradley.

She missed him, more than she should have. He wasn't her boyfriend, so why did she miss him so much?

She didn't see Max on the Friday, but that was no bad thing. But she did see some of her friends. She threw her arms around Fernando Alonso and cracked jokes with Alex Albon. Every driver she saw that day expressed how much they missed her, missed racing against her.

When she arrived at the track on the Saturday, she wasn't Logan's only guest.

"Moon?!" She shouted as she walked towards her best friend. By his feet was an animal on a leash. It wasn't a dog, or a cat, or any other typical sort of pet. No, the raccoon grabbed her finger like a baby the minute she held it towards him.

(if you haven't read my Moon The Raccoon Series/ if you're not usually an F1 fan, i feel i must point out that no drivers own raccoons and it's just a silly little fic I did that i wanted to incorporate into this one for funsies)

Moon the raccoon being at the Miami Grand Prix really was a treat. She couldn't stop herself from pulling her phone from the back pocket of her jeans, fingers furiously swiping through the apps before she managed to video call Bradley.

There was a moment before he could pick up. "Chicken, you okay?" He asked as he walked outside of the Hard Deck. The Formula One had been playing on the screen, all of the daggers hoping to catch a glimpse of their new friend.

"Roo, I need you to meet my friend, Moon."

"Is that a fucking raccoon?"

She turned the camera away from Moon to look at Bradley's face. "You can't be using that sort of language around my nephew, Roo," she said as she sat on the floor and placed Moon in her lap. "Besides, you're just meant to look at how cute he is."

She watched as Bradley rolled his eyes, but he couldn't hide the fond smile beneath his moustache. "He's very cute, Chicken. Wanna tell me where you found him?"

"I'm friends with his dad," she said and removed Moon from her lap. Logan offered her his hand and pulled her to her feet, all while she kept her attention on Bradley. "If I agree to stick around in San Diego, can we get one?"

With the pout she wore, how could he say no, she figured. Instead, Bradley laughed. "Chicken, I love you, but we're not getting a raccoon."

I love you.

Fuck, why did he have to go ahead and say that. She tried to keep her expression neutral, but she wasn't doing a very good job. "I have to go, speak to you later?" She asked quickly.

Before Bradley could answer, she hung up on him.

"What was that about?" Asked Logan as she followed him and Moon to the William's hospitality. "Who is Roo?"

She let out a shuddering breath and shook her head. "Leave it alone, Sarge," she mumbled as she shoved her hands into her pockets.

"Was that the reason you've been staying in the States?"

"I said leave it, Logan."

***

Bradley stared at his phone, her picture gone. Fuck, he knew he shouldn't have said anything. I would be a wonder at all if she ever came back to San Diego at all.

"You okay, kid?" Maverick asked as he walked back into The Hard Deck, shoving his phone into his pocket.

Bradley sat beside him and Penny placed a beer on the bar top. Bradley gave her an appreciative nod as he took it and sipped. On the screen across from him was the race, put on at his request.

He wasn't so sure he wanted to watch it now. "It's fine, Mav," he said as he finished his drink. "It's nothing," he grumbled.

Maybe it was the old man in him, but Bradley couldn't stop himself from pulling out his phone and texting her. I'm sorry, Chicken, he texted. I shouldn't have said it.

It's fine, Bradley.

Bradley. Not Rooster or Roo. Just Bradley. His heart hurt.

Mav pushed his elbow against Bradley's arm and pointed towards the screen across them them. Bradley stopped staring at his phone, just to see his girl, if she was still his girl, standing by a man in a white suit and American themed helmet, holding a raccoon.

Moon the Raccoon, he knew.

He and Maverick watched as a taller man tapped her on the shoulder. She spun, readjusted Moon in her arms and hugged the taller man.

But then the screen stopped showing her, instead showing the qualifying. Without her there to explain everything to him, Bradley was downright lost, and had to rely on Maverick.

As the qualifying happened, his phone buzzed in his pocket. Bradley pulled it out and checked it quickly, while Penny wasn't looking. But the bar wasn't too quickly at this time on a Saturday, and having to buy a round for everyone wouldn't have been the end of the world.

Can we pretend this never happened?

He let out a shuddering breath. If that was what she wanted, if that was what it would take to have her back in her arms, he'd do it. Of course, Chicken

Thank you, Roo. I miss you

Miss you too, Chicken. I'll see you tomorrow night

Can't wait

If you enjoyed this, please feel free to buy me a coffee

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military-newsboys · 2 days

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Mav: Why does everyone always assume I’m doing something stupid? Slider: To save time.

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mynameismckenziemae · 1 day

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All of Me

Part 9

(previous part here, next part here)

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x You

Summary: You finally get some time alone with Jake. It turns into more the morning after.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI! Smut, teasing, femdom, orgasm delay/edging, unprotected p in v, cumplay, a little overstimulation.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

“Hi,” you breathe as you open the front door.

God, he looks good.

He must’ve showered at base, his hair still damp and finger combed, wearing a black tee and gray sweatpants that are already tenting in anticipation of seeing you.

“Hey,” Jake murmurs, “came as soon as I could, but I needed a shower.”

“It’s okay,” you reply, ushering him inside. “Come on in.”

He’s hot on your heels as you head up the stairs to your room. As soon as the lock clicks, you meet in a clash of tongue and teeth, taking turns to pull each other’s clothes off before falling onto your bed in a heap of limbs.

He’s already a mess; his neck and face flushed, chest heaving, and pearly drops of precum hit your stomach. Yet, he starts to kiss his way down your body to make sure you’re ready. But your fingers weave into his hair and you stop him with a tug. Your lip quirks at the way he trembles when you pull him back up to you. “I’m more than ready,” you pant before kissing him again. “Need you now.”

He nods, lifting up to dig around in the bedside drawer, brow furrowing when his search comes up empty.

“Are they gone?” You ask, looking for yourself. Sure enough, the box is empty. “Damn it.”

“I should’ve asked before I got here,” he sighs before kissing your forehead. “My bad. I’ll go get some.”

“It’s okay. I didn’t think to look either,” you say, wrapping your legs around his waist to stop him from getting up. “I’m on birth control and I’m clean. I haven’t been with anyone but you in almost 2 years. I-uh, I haven’t gone without a condom with anyone besides Andy either.”

Jake’s eyes widen slightly as he realizes what you’re saying and what you’re too afraid to.

I trust you. You’re more than just a friend.

“I’m clean too, but you know that already,” he teases, knowing you got his test results before he did. “I’ve also never had sex without a condom before.”

“Ever?” You ask, remembering he’s mentioned a previous long-term girlfriend.

“Ever,” he shakes his head, reading your mind. “Jess wasn’t on anything and we didn’t want to risk getting pregnant; we were only 20.”

“I’m okay with it if you are,” you murmur, pulling him in for another kiss, breaking off with a moan as the head of his cock bumps into your clit.

“I am,” he replies, unable to keep the smile off his face. But it falls a second later. “Fuck. I’m never gonna last.”

You laugh as you line him up to your entrance, shivering as you coat him with your arousal. “It’s okay. I’m sure you’ll find a way to make it up to me.”

He gasps as he pushes inside you for the first time with no barrier. His body shudders as he fights the urge to cum as your wet heat surrounds him. “You feel so fuckin’ good,” he rasps as he starts moving his hips with slow, deep thrusts.

You mewl in agreement; it’s even better than you remembered.

He groans as he captures your lips in a deep, biting kiss as his hips snap into you faster, unable to control himself any longer from being denied and teased the past few days; you’re honestly surprised he’s lasted this long.

He buries his head into your shoulder with a desperate whine. The delicious sound has you clenching around him and his hips begin to lose their rhythm as he fights to hold on before you realize he’s waiting for your permission.

“Good boy, Jake,” you breathe praise into his ear as your nails dig into his ass. “You can cum. Want you to fill me up.”

His release is instantaneous and he cums with a muffled cry against your neck.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

“So good for me,” you whisper as your nails trail lightly over his back while he recovers. Your lip quirks at the way he shivers from your words.

You wait for him to pull out but he instead rolls onto his back, taking you with him. A moan works escapes from your lips at the new angle; he’s still hard inside you.

“Can’t get enough of you,” he explains, eyes going straight between your legs as some of his cum slips out at the change in position. He groans softly as he runs his fingers through it, gathering some before circling your clit.

You gasp and pull one from him too as you rock your hips. “You okay?”

“More than,” he hums, eyes drifting shut as you do it again, planting your hands on his skid chest as you begin to ride him in a slow and steady rhythm. “Just ah! S-sensitive, but I like it.”

“Do you think…” you trail off as you feel the pulls of an orgasm already. “Do you think you can cum again for me?”

“Anything,” he murmurs, forcing his eyes to open as his fingers speed up as he makes tighter circles. “Anything for you.”

You bite your lip to keep quiet as the weight of his words pushes you over the edge.

His eyes never leave yours as you tremble through your release; his fingers slowing to let you recover.

Your lips pull into a lazy, satisfied smile as you lean down to kiss him before trailing down his jaw to nip at his neck. “Cum with me this time,” you murmur against his racing pulse as your fingers find his nipples. His hips jerk and he gasps so prettily when you pinch them both. “But not before I do.”

“Y-yes ma’am,” he stutters when you do it again. His fingers start working on your clit again to make sure he doesn’t cum before you as you start riding him again.

Ever a tease, you don’t make it easy on him; your hands continue to pinch and pull on his nipples as your lips brush his neck while your soft moans reach his ear with each thrust of your hips.

It doesn’t take long before you begin to clench around him. Your teeth bite the thick muscle where his neck meets his shoulder with a whimper, pulling him over the edge too. A low, punched-out groan leaves him as his cock twitches, filling you with more of his hot cum while you tremble through your own.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

“That was…amazing,” Jake sighs as he flips down beside you again after finally cleaning you up. He had gotten distracted by the sight of his cum leaking out of you and pushing it back in that he had pulled another orgasm from you by the time he had finished cleaning you up.

The sex is amazing. How you treat Drew and I is amazing. You’re amazing.

“Agreed,” you say, pasting on a smile as you turn on your side to face him, still unable to tell him how you really feel. “Do you want to stay awhile?”

“Sure,” he replies, just as his stomach growls.

“Have you eaten?” You ask.

“Earlier,” he smiles sheepishly, “at lunch.”

“You must be starving,” you say, looking at the clock. “Come on, I’ll make you something.”

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

Jake follows you downstairs and finally sits down after you agree that he can cook for you next time.

He tells you how training went and has you laughing at the stupid bets they make to make things more entertaining.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he murmurs, smiling at your laughter while he watches you cook him a grilled cheese…in your pajamas.

“Thank you,” you reply softly, ignoring the lump forming in your throat as you hand him his plate and make your own.

It somehow feels more intimate than when he’s said it during sex.

“You’re welcome,” he says, brushing your hair out of your eyes while your heart skips a beat, “and thank you.”

“No problem,” you smile. “Come on, we can eat in the living room if you don’t tell Drew.”

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

“Mom?” Drew calls sleepily from the top of the stairs.

“In the living room,” you reply with a yawn before snuggling back into a warm, solid chest.

Shitshitshitshitshit!

Your eyes fly open as you bolt upright. Jake wheezes as you accidentally elbow his sternum.

“Shit, sorry!” You whisper as you scramble to the other side of the couch. “I can’t believe we fell asleep.”

Jake’s eyes widen in panic as he hears Drew’s footsteps approaching.

“Jake!” Drew says excitedly. “What are you doing here?”

“Hey bud,” Jake says as he nervously runs his fingers through his hair. “I-uh…had a really bad headache when I got back from training last night and called your mom…so she could help me.”

What the fuck?

You have to bite your lip to keep from laughing as Drew processes Jake’s lousy excuse.

“Okay,” he replies with a shrug and looks at the dishes you two left on the coffee table before falling asleep. “Hey, why do you guys get to eat in the living room but I can’t?”

“Because,” you say as you get up and pick up the said dishes, relieved that he let it go that easy. “We’re adults.”

“So? I’m a kid,” he huffs behind you, making you laugh.

“Well Jake wasn’t feeling good, so I let him eat in the living room,” you reply, putting the dishes in the dishwasher. “Just like you get to eat in the living room when you’re sick.”

“I guess,” he replies with a sigh, turning to Jake entering the kitchen. “Are you feeling better?

“I am,” Jake replies, ruffling his hair. “Your mom made me feel a lot better.”

Jake’s lip quirks as he pointedly ignores the look you give him.

“Mom, can Jake come with to bring me to camp?” Drew asks.

“Sure; if he wants to, but he might have something going on today,” you reply.

“I don’t,” Jake answers. “I’d love to come with.”

“Cool!” Drew smiles. “Did Roo tell what there is to do there? There’s baseball, swimming, rope courses…”

Jake nods as he listens, nudging you gently out of the way as he starts to make breakfast while telling Drew about his summer camp adventures.

“I’m gonna go get dressed quick,” you tell them before heading upstairs, the sound of their laughter following you with each step.

But in truth, you just need a moment alone. The crack in the wall surrounding your racing heart deepens further; nearly big enough now for Jake to fit through.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

You insist on driving when Jake fails to hide his yawns during breakfast, explaining he never sleeps well on the carrier.

You’re feeling a bit left out as Drew talks Jake's ear off the first half of the trip, but you don’t mind; especially since Jake seems genuinely interested in what he has to say.

Drew falls asleep first and Jake follows soon after. Usually quiet is a welcomed change, but the soft music does little to distract you from your thoughts.

Endless ‘what ifs’ run through your mind as you drive on auto-pilot.

What if Jake decides you and Drew are just too much work one day? What if he decides he wants someone closer to his age? What if he wants more kids? Do you want more kids? What if he wants you to stop wearing Andy’s ring? What if he gets sick or has an accident and dies too?

“Mom?” Drew whispers as you turn off the highway.

“Hmm?” Your eyes meet his in the rearview mirror.

“Do you like Jake?” He asks.

You nod.

“Like…do you like-like him? Like a boyfriend?”

“Why?” You ask as your stomach turns. A quick glance at Jake shows his eyes are still closed and his breathing hasn’t changed.

“I dunno,” he shrugs, looking out the window now. “I like him. He’s really nice…and he listens to me like Roo does; he doesn’t just smile and nod like most grownups do. You’re different when he’s around too.”

“Oh yeah? How so?” You ask, trying to keep your voice steady as your eyes prickle with tears.

“You laugh more,” he replies, “and you smile more. Real smiles too, not your sad smiles.”

“I have sad smiles?” You ask, refusing to let the tears quickly filling your eyes fall.

“Yeah, like when you talk about Dad,” he replies. “Uncle Roo said you don’t have a boyfriend because you really loved Dad and you’re scared of getting hurt or me getting hurt.”

Fucking Bradley.

“I don’t think Jake would hurt us though. He’d be a good stepdad,” he continues. “That’s what it’s called right? My friend Blake’s got a stepdad ‘cause his mom and real dad broke up.”

“Uncle Roo is right,” you sigh, making a mental note to have a talk with Bradley, “but there’s a lot more to it; it’s hard to explain. Yes, if I would marry someone, he would be your step-dad. And yes, I do like Jake…like that.”

“Is he your boyfriend?” He asks excitedly, getting louder.

“Shhhh,” you laugh as you shush him. “No. He’s not my boyfriend. Maybe he will be though. I’ll have to talk to him about it first.”

“Cool,” he grins. “I think he likes you too. I bet he’ll say yes.”

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

“Call me anytime you need me, okay?” You murmur into Drew’s hair as you hug him. “I love you so much.”

“I will. Love you too,” he replies, squeezing tighter before letting you go. “Bye Jake,” he surprises you both as he wraps his arms around Jake’s waist next. “Don’t let my mom get lonely without me.”

“I won’t,” Jake murmurs, brushing Drew’s hair back like he did yours last night. “You have my number now, so you can call me too, okay?”

“Okay, thanks,” Drew smiles up at him before running off. “See ya guys!”

“Bye,” you reply softly, wiping the tear discreetly before waving goodbye. Jake links his pinky with yours as you walk back to your car.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

A/N: A few big steps this chapter…sex without a condom, Jake discovers his creampie kink, an unintended sleepover, getting the okay from Drew…

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callsign-mayhem · 3 days

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heartbreak feels so good (part 2)

Pairing: Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Reader Word count: 3861 CW: Shitty ex-boyfriends, slow burn, angst, fluff

Your boyfriend's callsign is Viper, which is fitting. Bradley doesn't know how much longer he can watch this man destroy you, but luckily for him, he doesn't have to wait too long.

Use of Y/N, but no description of reader. THIS IS A MULTI-PART FIC.

The eerie silence of your apartment woke you that morning. Either it was never usually this quiet, or you just hadn’t noticed it when Elijah stayed over. There had been a few occasions over the weekend where you’d noticed differences like this, and you wondered when and if it got any easier to deal with.

You had awoken with your childhood teddy bear tucked beneath your chin. Somewhat disoriented, you sat up and glanced around the room. Your phone was charging on your nightstand with a glass of water and a Post-It next to it. That’s when it hit you that Bradley had been here the night before. You must have fallen asleep on the sofa during your wallowing sesh, which meant he’d carried you to bed. Ted was staring at you accusingly as though he’d noticed how your heartbeat stuttered once, twice, and then righted itself.

Burning with curiosity, you reached over and grabbed the orange Post-It, reading what you could only assume were Bradley’s words hungrily. His handwriting was atrocious, as wonky as his voice was raspy.

Getting Starbs. Be back soon x

Well, that explained that one. For the second morning in a row, you’d woken up feeling rough, although you didn’t feel as bad as yesterday. Yesterday, crawling out of bed had felt more like crawling out of the pits of hell. Today, you knew that Bradley was coming back with coffee—after having slept over—and while this was confusing, it gave you something to think about aside from Elijah.

You took a cold shower to reset your central nervous system, using all your fancy products in an attempt to make yourself feel better. It only partially worked, so you decided to put on one of your favourite outfits, which had the tendency to make you appear more confident than you actually felt. Now seemed as good a time as any to buy into the fake it till you make it movement.

When you ventured into the living room, you noticed that the nest you had built on the sofa was still intact, although it had been moved around slightly to serve as a makeshift bed. This must have been where Bradley spent the night after he’d tucked you in. Something about this was hard to accept, and as you stood there staring at the pillows and duvet, you tried to come up with an explanation as to why he’d stayed. As you cycled through the possibilities, the same part of your brain that believed you weren’t worthy of anyone better than Elijah started trying to convince you that Bradley was going to do the same thing he had. Or worse, he was just pitying you.

These were the kinds of tricks your brain liked to play on you, and usually, it was successful, but this time you were interrupted. Someone was knocking on your front door, presumably Bradley, who didn’t have a key. It dawned on you too late that you’d given Bradley your spare yesterday evening when he’d told you he might go out and grab coffee in the morning, and you were turning the handle before you could really register what this meant.

It had only been a few days, but you’d forgotten just how disarming Elijah was. He was standing in the hallway with a bunch of beautiful red roses, dressed in your favourite outfit of his: black cargos, one of his band tees and his beat-up Docs. You could smell his aftershave from where you stood, and he’d obviously had a haircut and beard trim before coming to see you.

Both relief and dread flooded you simultaneously, and you were torn between slamming the door in his face or collapsing into his arms, flowers be damned.

‘El,’ you croaked. ‘What’re you doing here?’

He smiled sheepishly, holding out the flowers so you could take them. They smelled like second chances and summer romance. ‘Went to that market we used to go to this morning and saw these. They made me think of you, so I thought you should have them.’

‘T-thanks?’

‘I know it’s out of the blue, but I thought we should talk.’ He said all of this so calmly— cool as a cucumber—as if this were the most natural thing in the world. As if you were going to discuss the weather and not his narcissistic tendencies. ‘I might have overreacted.’

You scoffed. ‘What was your first clue?’

Elijah rolled his eyes. ‘I didn’t come here to fight. I came to apologise, Y/N. Maybe there’s something here worth salvaging.’

And didn’t this happen every single time? He fucked up on a monumental scale, only realised because of your reaction, and apologised because he knew that’s what he was supposed to do, not because he saw any issues with his behaviour. He’d promise to work on it, you’d believe him, and then the cycle would start all over again. After dealing with it for a year, you were only just becoming aware of the ways he manipulated you, ways that would probably still work if you gave him enough time.

The scary part is that you were considering letting him despite the newly reawakened, sane part of your brain screaming at you not to.

‘Y/N?’

Oh God. No, no, no, no.

Bradley Bradshaw had materialised behind Elijah in all his golden glory, two coffees in hand, aviators perched on the tip of his perfect nose. He was wearing shorts and a black tank top, so clearly, he’d popped home to change clothes. To top it off, he was doused in a light sheen of sweat that glistened underneath the lights in the hallway.

The sane part of your brain was relieved to see him, but the part that Elijah controlled was about to implode. Your hands felt clammy, and your throat was thick with nerves, making it incredibly difficult to talk.

Elijah spun around. Even though he now had his back to you, you had a pretty good idea of what his face looked like. His shoulders tensed up and you watched him squeeze both of his hands into fists.

‘What the fuck?’

‘El, it’s not what it looks like, he-’

Elijah spun around. His anger was an almost tangible thing. He’d always struggled with it, what with having undiagnosed and unmedicated ADHD, and it could be terrifying. He also liked using it as an excuse when he acted out, claiming he couldn’t help it.

Bradley seemed relatively calm. You knew it was a front, that he wanted to rip Elijah’s head off, but that would end up hurting you, so he was reigning it in for your benefit.

Elijah was glancing between you and Bradley, nostrils flaring and jaw set with anger. Briefly, you locked eyes with Bradley but couldn’t determine what emotions were hidden there.

‘Not that it’s any of your business, Viper,’ Bradley started. ‘But I’m here helping Y/N through a tough time. We’re friends, and that’s what friends do.’

‘Not sure why she’s having a tough time.’ Elijah spat. ‘I’m the one getting sent pictures of his girlfriend walking down the beach with another guy. Do you have any idea how that made me look?’

‘Maybe it should’ve been you, then. Oh, wait,’ Bradley smiled sarcastically. ‘You were too busy ghosting her because she went out with her friends.’

‘I don’t need to stand here and listen to this. Who the fuck do you think you are, man? This has nothing to do with you.’

‘Elijah.’ You warned.

‘And you’re defending this guy now, Y/N? What the fuck is wrong with you?’

‘That’s enough.’

‘No, I’m not done. Because I wanna know what you think gives you the right-’

Bradley sidestepped Elijah and handed you the two iced coffees. You stood there dumbly, unable to do anything.

‘I’m her friend, that’s what gives me the right. I’m the one who’s gonna pick up all the fucking pieces.’

Elijah was trying to square up to Bradley, but he was a fair bit shorter, so it just looked pathetic.

‘Pick up all the pieces of what? Her broken heart?’ Elijah laughed bitterly. ‘Boo fucking hoo. If she weren’t such a slut, we’d still be together. It’s her own fault.’

Bradley Bradshaw wasn’t a violent person. It was a last resort for him, so when he slammed Elijah into the wall, you knew it was because he’d been pushed way beyond his limit by that last comment.

Elijah shoved Bradley off him and swung, clipping the side of his face and causing him to stagger back. Bradley took a second to right himself and, with a great heaving breath, swung back hard. You squeezed your eyes shut, but the sound of Bradley’s fist meeting Elijah’s nose was loud enough that you could still picture it vividly. It reminded you of the sound of gravel getting crushed underneath the tyres of the Bronco or the eggshells you’d spent the last year walking over to spare Elijah’s feelings.

The sound seemed to snap you out of your helpless daze.

‘That’s enough!’ You yelled.

The bin bag containing Elijah’s belongings was next to the front door so you’d remember to take it to work the next day. You grabbed it and threw it at Elijah, who just about managed to catch it before it hit him in the face.

‘I don’t wanna see your face around here again.’ You said bitterly. ‘And I don’t want any rumours going around base about Bradley and me because this breakup is all your fault. You’re the one who couldn’t get his act together.’

‘And if you ever call her a slut—or anything else—again, I’ll make sure you never fly for the navy again.’

You meant every word of it, but it was still difficult to look Elijah in the eye one last time before he walked out of your life for good. It was hard because you’d still loved a version of this man, laughed, cried, and talked for hours with him. And if he’d managed to admit to a few of his shortcomings, work on them and maybe go to therapy for his unhealed trauma, you’d probably still be laughing, crying and talking with him.

You would have probably married him.

But he would never admit to having shortcomings, never take the time to work on things, and therapy was out of the question. Love is only a small part of what makes a relationship work, and when it came to your relationship with Elijah, your love for him was the only thing keeping it going. Most days, this wasn’t even enough.

You half expected him to say something else, but he seemed to know better. Clutching the bin bag full of his belongings, Elijah skulked off down the hallway, and you watched uneasily until he disappeared around the corner, finally leaving you and Bradley alone.

You released a shaky breath, and Bradley pulled you into a hug so comforting that you just about melted. He smelled of sunshine, clean cotton, and Bleu De Chanel, and you had to refrain from inhaling.

‘I leave you for half hour, and that dick shows up.’ Bradley murmured.

You could hear the smile in his voice, which was also a comfort. After a scene like that, the last thing on Elijah’s mind would have been comforting you. Even though Bradley was the one physically hurt, his priority was still taking care of you and keeping the mood light so you didn’t start spiralling.

Reluctantly you pulled away from Bradley, not because you wanted to, but because you thought he deserved some breakfast after his morning heroics.

‘Did he get your eye?’ You asked, concerned.

‘No,’ Bradley smiled reassuringly. ‘Almost, but no.’

Once back inside, you set about making breakfast. Bradley was glancing around, somewhat disorientated, and you briefly worried if he had a concussion.

‘You good, Roo?’

‘Yeah, what happened to the coffees?’

‘Oh, they’re on the side where I keep my car keys. By the door.’

Bradley fetched the coffee and sat in his usual spot at the kitchen island. He was unharmed, but it was evident in the way he wouldn’t meet your eye that something was on his mind. While you cooked the bacon—having deja vu from yesterday—you thought about the best way to approach the situation. Bradley was entitled to feel some type of way about what had just happened, and he was under no obligation to share said feelings with you if he didn’t want to. After all he’d done for you, he was entitled to a few private thoughts. But something about the brooding look on his face made it hard to leave well enough alone, and all of a sudden, you found yourself wanting to know every thought—good and bad—going on inside his pretty little head.

You lowered the heat on the stove and turned around to grab your coffee, making a point of trying to meet Bradley’s eye. The contact lasted about three seconds before he refocused his attention on his coffee cup, which had suddenly become very interesting. This man had tells, and you were going to learn them all.

‘What’s wrong, Bradley? You can talk to me, you know?’

He shook his head slightly. ‘Nothing.’

‘Bullcrap. You can tell when I’m not being honest about how I feel, and guess what? It’s a two-way street. And just like you encourage me to talk about what’s bothering me, I’m encouraging you to do the same.’

‘I’ve created a monster.’ Bradley grinned.

‘You have. It’s your own fault, Bradshaw.’

‘It’s not a big deal,’ he said, sipping his iced latte. ‘I’ve just been trying to imagine what would’ve happened if I didn’t come at that exact moment.’

Your stomach twisted. ‘What do you mean?’

‘You were holding roses. That look on your face, Y/N… I think if I didn’t come back when I did, you would’ve let him in.’

‘That’s…’

He was gazing at you expectantly.

‘...Ridiculous.’ You finished.

‘See, I really wanna believe that,’ he smiled sadly. ‘But I know you well enough to know that you’re lying.’

You turned back around to face the stove, partly because you needed to flip the bacon and get started on the eggs and partly because you couldn’t keep the agony off your face. Because Bradley was right as usual—as much as it pained you to admit it, you would have eventually let Elijah in.

‘It’s not as black and white as that.’

Bradley’s eyes were burning holes in the back of your head. It was extremely off-putting.

‘I know, Y/N. Nothing is.’

This caught your attention. You spun around and pointed the spatula at him accusingly.

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ You asked.

Bradley held his hands up. ‘Nothing, doll. I’m just agreeing with you.’

‘Nothing in life is simple,’ you murmured, opening the cupboard above you and taking the packet of bagels out. ‘No matter how much you wish it was.’

‘Just to be clear, I don’t blame you for wanting to let him in. He’s a manipulator, and he’s good at what he does. And you love with everything you have.’

‘Even when I shouldn’t.’

You heard Bradley sigh. ‘Y/N, I’m gonna tell you something, and I want you to really take it in, okay?’

‘Okay?’

‘Loving hard is never a bad thing, and you should never shrink your love to make it easier for people to digest. If you find yourself doing that, then the person you’re doing it for isn’t meant for you. The right people will always take your love as it comes, and you won’t have to change anything.’

You couldn’t help but smile to yourself. ‘Like you. And Nat.’

‘Yes,’ he breathed, seemingly relieved that you were beginning to understand. ‘Just like me and Nat.’

Bradley Bradshaw was not in the business of denying you of anything, which is how he found himself curled up on your sofa for the second afternoon in a row, watching reruns of Gilmore Girls. The two of you had watched so many episodes that he knew the theme song by heart, and as catchy as it was, he only liked it because you sang it each time without fail. This was the happiest and calmest he’d seen you all weekend, which was surprising after Elijah’s surprise visit earlier that day. After quite the internal debate, he’d come to the conclusion that you needed to see him after the breakup, no matter how briefly, in order to start the process of moving on.

Bradley was starting to fancy himself a love and relationship expert despite not having experienced it many times himself. Something about you and your particular situation made him feel he needed to monitor it, as though it were his job to make sure you emerged relatively unscathed.

He glanced at you sideways, wrapped up in a pumpkin-covered throw with a mug of tea keeping your hands warm, and felt this innate need to protect you from the world and everyone in it. Especially Elijah. He couldn’t explain it, but it went further than friendship, possibly even further than love.

Bradley was just about to suggest going for a walk to stretch your legs and get some air, but then the intercom started buzzing, causing the both of you to jump out of your skins.

He reached and took your tea from you so you could get up without ending up wearing it. Whoever was waiting to be let in was pretty persistent, constantly buzzing until you managed to get to the front door and click the intercom.

‘Who is it?’ You asked, panting from the exertion.

‘Natasha Trace, you know, the best friend you’ve been blanking all weekend.’

You cursed under your breath, pressing the release for the door. ‘Sorry, Nat. Come on up.’

It suddenly dawned on Bradley that he hadn’t updated Nat since sometime yesterday and that she was probably worried sick. She knew nothing about Elijah showing up at your apartment or the fact that Bradley had stayed over. The fact that he’d slept on the sofa wouldn’t matter to her when she found out. He’d never hear the end of it.

You were hovering nervously by the door, clearly anticipating the same telling-off as Bradley. ‘I was supposed to call her last night,’ you told him. ‘And then I passed out on the couch.’

‘We’re both done for, Y/CS,’ he grinned. ‘It’s been super nice knowing you.’

Somehow—in the time it took her to get up the three flights of stairs to your front door—he managed to convince himself that she wouldn’t be that mad at the two of you. But when you opened the door, he could almost feel her anger, like heat rolling off her in waves. Before you could get a word out, she was pulling you in for a rough but well-meaning hug.

‘I was worried sick, Y/N.’

You relaxed into the hug and put your arms around her middle, squeezing reassuringly. ‘I’m sorry, Nat. I should have called.’

‘Yes,’ she agreed. ‘You should’ve. Last time I saw you, you were half-cut and running away from us at The Hard Deck.’ You stepped aside so she could come in. ‘You’ve got some explaining to-’

When Natasha noticed Bradley reclining comfortably on your couch, she stopped speaking. Bradley had a shit-eating grin plastered across his face, and he wiggled his eyebrows at her teasingly.

‘Hey, Nix.’

Briefly, she glanced at you and then back at Bradley. Then back at you, then back to Bradley.

‘Don’t ‘hey, Nix’ me, mister. You’ve been here all weekend?’

He shrugged apologetically. ‘Pretty much.’

‘No text? No call?’

‘Sorry. We were kinda preoccupied with wallowing and fighting Viper off.’

‘What do you mean fighting him off?’

With a great sigh, you traipsed over to the couch and collapsed back into your spot. ‘He showed up this morning with roses and the usual fake apology.’

Natasha was incredulous. She didn’t sit down, she just started pacing in front of the couch, Gilmore Girls still playing on the flat screen behind her.

‘Are you serious?’

‘Yup, and it’s lucky I came back when I did,’ Bradley chimed in. ‘Y/N was gonna let him in.’

Natasha stopped pacing to glare at you. ‘You were gonna do what?’

You launched a throw pillow at Bradley’s head, which, fortunately for you, he didn’t manage to dodge.

‘Hey!’ He huffed. ‘I’m not blaming you! We talked about this earlier.’

You rolled your eyes. ‘It wasn’t my finest moment, okay? I’ve been drinking his Kool-Aid for so long it’s gonna be a while before it’s all out of my system. So I guess Bradley really did come back at the right time.’

This didn’t seem to satisfy Nat, so you launched into a more detailed account of the past weekend, filling her in on everything except a few details about Bradley. Those you would save for when it was just the two of you. Halfway through, she perched herself on the edge of the coffee table, facing you and listening intently to what you had to say. By the end of it, she was literally seething with rage. This time, directed at your now ex-boyfriend.

‘He ought to watch his back,’ she said through gritted teeth. ‘Cause if I see him on base, he’s gonna wish he’d never been born.’

The three of you ended up ordering pizza. At one point, you got up to go to the bathroom, and Natasha took the opportunity to grill Bradley some more. He wasn’t surprised in the slightest. Only surprised that it had taken her this long.

She started the interrogation by smacking the back of his head.

‘What was that for?’ He hissed.

‘That’s for going after your best friend when she’s just had her heart broken.’

‘What makes you think I’m going after her?’

Nat pretended to think about this. ‘Hmmm, let me see… Maybe because you’ve slept here two nights in a row, and I walked into you cuddled up on her couch drinking fucking cocoa!’

‘It was tea, actually. And I slept out here both nights. Just didn’t want her to be alone.’

She relented, but only slightly. ‘Still, you need to cool it. She’s probably feeling all kinds of confused right now, and she doesn’t need you and your big puppy dog eyes making things even more complicated.’

He smiled despite himself. ‘You think I have big puppy dog eyes?’

She glared at him witheringly. ‘Is missing the point a personality trait of yours?’

‘Nix, will you calm down? I’m not going after her, I’m not confusing her, and I’m not making things difficult with my big eyes. I’ve been giving her advice, helping her through the worst of it. That’s all.’

Natasha softened, satisfied that Bradley was telling the truth. The toilet flushed, and the bathroom door opened, so they’d have to finish this conversation some other time. But before you came back, Natasha whispered one last thing…

‘I know you love her, Bradley. I know you always have. But you have to give her some time.’

End of part 2. Final part coming soon!

Taglist: primroseluna eloquentdreamer sgt-barnesveins daybleedsintonightfa11

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outalongtheedges · 15 hours

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Rooster/Maverick: I’m the way I am because my dad died when I was young.

Hangman/Iceman: I’m the way I am because my dad didn’t die when I was young.

Masterlist

#top gun #icemav #pete mitchell #top gun maverick #tom kazansky #top gun 1986 #top gun: maverick #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #hangster #sereshaw #top gun incorrect quotes #incorrect top gun quotes #top gun headcanons

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senawashere · 15 hours

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We're on this together...(Chapter IV)

Bradley Bradshaw x Fem!Wife!Reader

Summary: Is it over now? Or is it starting now?

A/n: A MAJOR change is on the way!!

Warnings: Infertility,mentions of miscarrige,mentions of hospital,mentions of getting pregnant,mentiones of ivf.Use of alcohol,arguing,use of bad languange. Mostly angst.

20 APRIL 2022.

You nodded.

That's why you're currently in one of the most well known clinics in San Diego because Bradley didn't want to "risk it" and your leg shakes with anger at the thought, causing Bradley to rest his hand on your knee.

Car ride was complately silence. And after around one and half an hour you both finally parked your car to the parking lot and walked into the big hospital.

The sterile smell of the hospital immediately caught your nose. This scent wasn't helping you feel more stressed than you already were. But Bradley's tight grip on your hand seemed to comfort you at least a little.

He's nervous too, damn, he feels like he's going to throw up, but he has to stay strong for you and he relaxes a little when his lover rests her head on his shoulder and kisses her temple, which works because he's a little less nervous now.

"It'll be alright." You whisper and your husband smiles to hear you thinking positively.

"Exactly." He answers, his heart pounding with pride when he hears you optimistic for the first time in a long time.

You both are distracted by looking at socials on his phone for a few more minutes until a woman in white emerges from the office and looks up, reading a spreadsheet to say. "Bradshaw?"

You both stand up, You instantly reach out for Bradley to hold your hand tightly, and after greeting the woman, you both enter where the doctor is waiting for you behind her desk.

“Bradley, Y/N, this is a pleasure.” She shakes both of your hands.

"Thank you. Pleasure is ours." Bradley responds with the hand now holding on your lower back and gently pulling the chair forward for you to sit down on.

"Okay, I understand you're here because you're having trouble getting pregnant, right?" The old woman asks, looking under her round glasses.

"Yes." You hum, swallowing dryly.

Bradley takes your hand but continues to stare at the doctor, knowing his wife hates public attention, something he's learned the hard way over the last dozen years.

"We'll be running some tests on you both next week, don't worry, just to make sure everything is as it should be."

You both nodded, and both felt small in the hospital chairs, holding hands, afraid, feeling that time had not passed, and feeling that you were still sixteen years olds and had no idea what life was really like.

Talking about a future that would never come, wishing they could be like them again forever, they gathered in the treehouse as You stroked Bradley's uncontrollable hair, as he clumsily talked about his dreams, thinking that maybe one day he would love to be become a fighter pilot. Like his dad.

They both are individually subjected to multiple tests and studies, and after about three hours both of your works finish, returning home exhausted and not even eating dinner, you both quickly crawl under the covers and seek each other's warmth.

While Bradley plays with the ring on his ring finger, his head lies on his lover's chest. "Are you scared?" he asks and your hands stop in his hair.

"Maybe a baby isn't for us."

You look up and look at him in shock, feeling your throat close at the raw and harsh words and you heart starts pounding when you see his face.

"Darling, don't say that."

You look away, staring at the ceiling, feeling the tears gathering in your eyes until they fall down the sides onto your pillow.

You are not even sobbing, not screaming, nothing, just...crying. Silently.

"Oh, my love.” He grabs your arms to pull you closer, switching positions so you are on top of him, dipping his bare chest in the salty drops.

"We're going to have them, fuck, we're going to have the baby or maybe babies. We just have to wait for the results. I know we are going to."

He wants to cry too, but he can't cry in front of you when you need him more than ever. He will find a moment of solitude where he can lighten his own burden, but not now.

"I just want to make you happy." You cry and he frowns.

"You think I need a baby to be happy?"

Bradley questions, holding your waist and carresing with his thumb.

"Darling, as long as you're with me, anything can go to hell, I'll be the happiest man on earth. I don't need a baby, I don't need anything but you, my soul."

You hug him tighter, digging your nails into his shoulders and closing your eyes, breathing in the scent of home your husband gives off. Now you understand and blindly believe in it.

As long as they are together, they don't need anything else.

I know this is sad but it might be the last sad chapter hehehe!!!

I'm tagging people who might be interested:@ohtobeleah @sebsxphia @callsign-fox @greenorangevioletgrass @teacupsandtopgun @roosterforme @floydsglasses @lyn-js @its-dee-lovely @its-the-pilot @friedchips94 @hardballoonlove @topguncortez @bradshawsbaddie @shanimallina87 @djs8891 @themusingofagothicsoul @promisingyounglady @the-romanian-is-bae @mamachasesmayhem @jessicab1991 @iefitzgerald-blog @charcole-grey @waterriseslew @desert-fern @eternalsams @callsigns-haze @promisingyounglady @els-marvelvsp @cevansbaby-dove you are not comfortable please tell me!!

#sena writes #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw fanfic #bradley bradshaw x fem!reader #bradley bradshaw #rooster imagine #rooster fanfiction #rooster x reader #rooster top gun #rooster x wife!reader #top gun rooster #topgun maverick #top gun fan fiction #top gun au #we're on this together

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themissingmango · 18 hours

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#my art #top gun fanart #top gun maverick #top gun fandom #digital art #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #jake seresin #natasha phoenix trace #jake hangman seresin #carole bradshaw #sketches #tgm fanart #rooster

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ryebecca · 2 days

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"And so with the sunshine and the great bursts of leaves growing on the trees, just as things grow in the fast movies, I had that familiar conviction that life was beginning over again with the summer" - F. Scott Fitzgerald ☀️ 🏝️ ✨ | (or: a dreamy summertime Bradley for @roosterforme)

#ooh look at me two boards in one day #tgmedit #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #top gun: maverick #miles teller #*myedit #*mymoodboard

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lieutenantfloyd · 2 days

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Fanboy: Okay! Let’s play Kiss Marry Kill! Fanboy: First who would you kill? *Rooster points at Hangman* *Phoenix points at Hangman* *Bob points at Hangman* Hangman: *shrugs* I would kill me too.

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foreveraweirdoneslife · 3 days

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I've just finished writing my hangster fake dating fic for the TG Summer Secret Santa Fic Exchange (@tg2024exchange)!

It surely still needs some finishing touches (and a title) but I'm done writing!

It's 17k words and T-rated with lots of fluff and kissing and Jake and Bradley being idiots.

I'm already so excited to share it with you but since that won't happen until July 4th I thought I'd already share these mood pics!

Also, this is good news for any people reading my other stories, too, because finishing this one means I'm going back to work on I Think We're Alone Now and Ocean Of Love!

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callsignrooroo · 1 day

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I deeply miss writing for these two, so if anyone has any drabble ideas, send em in!

#hangster #sereshaw #hangman x rooster #rooster x hangman #jake seresin x bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x jake seresin #bradley bradshaw #jake seresin #top gun #top gun maverick

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vivwritesfics · 1 day

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If your taking requests could you write Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x reader

Rooster meeting a girl a few weeks before top gun and hooking up with her a few times (no actual smut)

And later on sees her in top gun and she is the first female pilot he meet (if possible for her callsign to be Chaos) and walking up to her before saying something like "you got me trained like a damn dog"

< based on this tiktok: https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGeaGGyMR/>

I am so sorry I've had this in my inbox for so fucking long, been trying to find a way to... write this, I suppose. I'll be honest, this turned out very different to the request but I couldn't find a way to make it this exact way. I hope you still like it!

They met eyes across The Hard Deck. It was both of their first times at Top Gun, that fundamental last night before they started.

(Now, I must note that this was before Penny bought The Hard Deck. It looked different to what it did when she and Bradley later returned for the uranium mine mission, but it still served the same purpose)

She sipped her drink and he sipped his beer, wiping the foam away from his moustache. Shit, he was hot. She watched as he whispered something to his wingman and approached.

If it had been the eighties, she would have lost that loving feeling. But it wasn't the eighties anymore, and Bradley had long since given up using his dad and Mavericks pickup tricks (gave up when Mav pulled his papers, actually).

He didn't sing to her, did some good old fashioned flirting.

It was a good thing he was cute, she thought with a grin. She held out her hand, signalling that it had worked. "Chaos," she said.

He placed his hand into her own and shook it. "Rooster," he replied, exchanging callsigns.

Chaos and Rooster. Chaos she was indeed. Chaos they both were. Bradley couldn't help but follow her, his hand in hers as she led him out of The Hard Deck. His wingman whooped and hollered at him as he left, following her out to her car.

She had debating staying on base or renting a place of her own for a month. Now that she had Bradley kissing her in the back of her car, she was so glad that she rented a place of her own. The way his lips trailed down her neck, had her moaning so slowed anybody outside of the car could hear.

She got him back to her rented place, got him into her rented bed, and didn't let him leave it until the next morning. He had her awake for most of the night, absolutely railing her (there is very little else I can say about it, but the burn on his moustache was, wow. Her legs had never shaken like that before, but that is a story for another day).

He left before she got up, making his way back to his own place, to his baby (the Ford Bronco).

They'd given each other their callsigns, knew each other by no other name. It shouldn't have been a surprise to Bradley when she walked in and took a seat in front of him.

"Shit," he hissed under his breath.

But there she was, Chaos. Bradley's cheeks were flaming any time the two had to interact.

But Chaos? She didn't stop flirting. And Bradley couldn't stop himself from falling for it. Time and time again he ended up in her bed. Neither much minded it. It didn't become rare to see his Ford Bronco parked outside.

But then they were shipping out. One last night at The Hard Deck, drinking together. It hadn't quite struck to the two that this was their last night being together.

If she wanted anything that night, Bradley was getting it from the bar. They didn't hide any sort of... relationship (or whatever it was) that night, with Bradley kissing her whenever he walked over to pass her the beer he'd gotten to her.

"Damn," said Natasha as she sipped her drink. She was the one watching the clock, watching for the minute it got within twelve hours of them flying. "You've got him trained like a damn dog."

It was a rather sad thought. Not that she had him 'trained like a damn dog', but that soon, they'd bee moving on from Top Gun and leaving each other behind. There was no telling where they'd end up and whether they'd be able to stay in touch.

God, she couldn't tear up here. She concentrated on one spot on the ground, just trying to keep herself from crying.

"Chaos?" Something touched her shoulder, a cold bottle of beer. Bradley held it in front of her face and she gladly took it.

They'd be okay. For this last night, they'd be okay.

#bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fluff #bradley bradshaw x you #rooster #rooster imagine #rooster x reader #rooster fluff #rooster x you #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #top gun #top gun maverick #tgm #rooster top gun #top gun fanfiction

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military-newsboys · 1 day

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Ice: Sli, Mav isn’t talking to me! Slider: Enjoy it while it lasts????

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ereardon · 2 days

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It's officially summer so you know what that means: reviving my favorite summer fic aptly named That Summer featuring sad boi Bradley

Masterlist here for anyone interested! Also ask me questions bc I miss and love this fic, it's one of my true babies

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tongue-like-a-razor · 2 months

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Hotter Than Texas | Part I

(unofficially: Brother's Worst Enemy)

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x F!Reader

Alrighty y'all, this is for everyone who has so patiently waited for me to make this a thing XD Not sure if I could squeeze a whole series out of this one but we shall see. Maybe at least a part 2. Enjoy!

Summary: Bradley Bradshaw is tasked with transporting a not-so-delicate package in the form of Jake Seresin's baby sister, who turns out to be Bradley's dream girl worst nightmare.

Aka it's a road trip, strap in.

CW: swearing, age gap (10 years)

The mission is simple. Collect Seresin Junior from the train station near the main gate of the base and deliver said cargo to the Seresin homestead in Eastern Texas on his way to Atlanta, Georgia for a long overdue visit with his grandparents. It isn’t rocket science. It sure as hell doesn’t hold a candle to the canyon run he pulled off just the other month. And yet, Bradley’s drumming his fingers anxiously on the hood of his Bronco as he leans into its frame, waiting on the trolley from downtown San Diego.

While Jake and Bradley have recently made peace after their longstanding cold war, Bradley isn’t exactly thrilled to meet another one of his kind. Besides, he isn’t one for small talk, and the prospect of spending the next two days with a complete stranger is downright daunting. He prefers music to conversation and he’s hoping that his road trip companion won’t be offended when he turns up the radio and forgets there’s anybody else in the car.

When Hangman had asked for the favor, he assured Bradley that he was his last choice – which wasn’t exactly a compliment, but Bradley appreciated the gesture, nonetheless. By the end of the term, there was nobody from their squadron left on base except Bradley, and he would be heading east anyway, might as well provide shuttle service while he’s at it.

As the trolley whistles into the station, Bradley pushes off his car and straightens his back, watching the tinted windows as they zip by, a blur at first and then gradually separating as the trolley comes to a stop.

Bradley leaves his car to walk around the fence, not quite sure how he’s going to be greeting a person he’s never before seen, but it’s not like he’s going to fashion a sign for the occasion. He sticks his hands into his pockets, the breeze picking up his unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt like a parachute before it starts whipping around his torso in the wind tunnel on the platform.

He glances around at the commuters stepping off the trolley, trying to pick out the blondes that might resemble his colleague, when he feels a tap on his shoulder. He turns his head, just as you say, “Rooster, right?”

He blinks at you, slightly disoriented. You look nothing like Hangman, thank fuck, because Bradley can’t take his eyes off you and, as inappropriate as this reaction is, it would make it that much worse if you did. He gives you a sideways grin. “What gave me away?” he says.

“My brother told me to find the dorkiest guy at the station,” you respond, grinning at him.

Bradley chuckles. “So, you’re walking to Texas, then,” he says, stepping around you.

You laugh, struggling to redirect the wheels of your suitcase.

Bradley bends down to grab the handle. “I can take that,” he says, tucking away the retractable bar and lifting it off the ground by the strap.

“Thanks,” you say, cringing slightly as Bradley lifts the luggage as though you’re embarrassed by its weight.

But after the countless exercise drills over the years, Bradley hardly notices that it’s heavy. In fact, he could probably carry it over his head. He eyes you inconspicuously as you fall in step with him, wondering if perhaps that might impress you – not that he wants to impress you.

“Actually, he said I couldn’t miss you because you’d be a head taller than everyone else, and probably wearing a very bright shirt.”

Bradley looks over at you with a grin. “Hopefully I didn’t disappoint?”

You eye his shirt flapping in the breeze. “I found you, didn’t I?”

Bradley lifts your suitcase into the trunk of his car and walks around to open your door for you.

You give him a suspicious look. “Thanks,” you say.

Bradley nods at you, offering a hand to help you in. Once you’re seated, he shuts the door behind you and exhales unsteadily the kind of sigh that often accompanies a guilty conscience. There’s no way he could possibly get entangled in a mess of this magnitude. And a colossal mess it would become if he were to develop any sort of soft spot for his recent enemy’s baby sister. Bradley, being a sensible, mature adult, understands this unequivocally. But, when he rounds the car and climbs into the driver’s seat next to you, the notion that he’s not allowed under any circumstances to find you attractive flies right out his rolled down window.

This is because you’re already tuning the radio like you own the place and because you smell like a goddess. Bradley has no clue whether it’s your hair or your perfume or your goddamn essence that’s permeated his upholstery in under ten seconds, but whatever it is, he certainly wouldn’t mind smelling it on his sheets in the morning.

Fuck. He’s fucking fucked.

“This alright?” you ask casually, as if you didn’t just hijack a stranger’s radio.

He cringes at the stereo; he’ll have to work on your taste in music. “Got your seatbelt on?” he asks as he pulls out.

You turn around in your seat and pull on the seatbelt.

Bradley promptly hits the breaks and you lurch forward slightly, the seatbelt in your hand getting stuck on its way out. He looks over at you with an air of seriousness despite the small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “The seatbelt should be the first thing you do when you enter a vehicle.” Not fiddle with the radio, he adds silently.

You raise your eyebrows at him in amusement. “Okay, dad.”

Bradley nearly shudders at your response. He’s probably a good ten years older than you, so, really, while dad might be stretching it, you’re not too far off. “Keep up that attitude and you’ll be listening to Metallica the whole way home.”

You smirk at him. “I like Metallica, so joke’s on you, bud.”

Bradley starts driving again. “If you like Metallica, then why are we listening to this trash?”

Your jaw drops and you reach for the volume dial to turn up the song. “How dare you?”

Bradley rolls his eyes. Something tells him he’s in for a wild ride.

…

About two hours later, Bradley pulls into a small gas station just past the border into Arizona.

“Want something to eat?” he asks, leaning across the console to pop his glove compartment and pull out his wallet. “Or drink?”

You purse your lips. “I could go for a coffee.”

“How do you like it?” he asks.

“With a pinch of salt.”

Bradley gapes at you. “I can’t tell if you’re joking.”

You snort. “I’m not joking. You should try it! Cuts the bitterness in half, my friend.”

Bradley cringes. “The bitterness is why I drink it.”

You shake your head and declare wisely, “You’ll see.”

“That you’re a nutcase?” Bradley mutters under his breath as he exits the car. He jogs over to the convenience store, determinedly blocking out the seductive quality of your persuasive tone. You could probably convince him to drink a pint of his own urine if you set your mind to it.

Bradley drums impatiently on the counter, waiting for the clerk to finish restocking one of the shelves with chips. While he’s waiting, he glances out to check on you as if you’re a child under his charge. You’ve stepped out of the Bronco to stretch your legs and Bradley doesn’t like the way the two guys in the convertible in behind are eyeing you.

Bradley cranes his neck to check on the clerk’s progress and lets out a stifled sigh. When he looks back outside, he sees that one of the men has approached you and, well, Bradley isn’t about to wait to see what happens next. He drops a bill on the counter and calls out, “Keep the change,” to the clerk before practically slamming his way through the doors with the coffees in his hands.

Why it bothers him that some random dude might want your number is not of consequence. What matters is that Bradley gets rid of this asswipe before you start enjoying his company.

He strides confidently past the man chatting you up and stops right in between you and him, handing you a coffee.

“Careful, it’s hot,” he cautions moodily, not entirely sure how to go about handling a situation in which, objectively speaking, he has no real authority.

You meet his gaze with a small smile. “You don’t say,” you respond with all the sultriness of a blazing, desert sun.

Bradley’s gaze remains unwaveringly on you as he unhooks a pair of Ray-Bans from the neck of his muscle shirt and slides them over his eyes. “Ready to go?” he asks in a level tone, hoping he can avoid what is bound to be an unpleasant interaction with the man still standing behind him.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” the man speaks up. “Didn’t realize you were with someone, honey.”

Bradley keeps his eyes on yours for several moments longer, trying his best not to show the irritation he feels at the way this rando just called you ‘honey’. Reluctantly, he turns to face him, wondering what in the world he could say that wouldn’t make him sound jealous as fuck.

But before Bradley could speak, you slide casually into his side, leaning on him like it’s the most natural thing. “That’s just fine,” you say to the man. “No harm, no foul.”

Bradley looks down at your head as it nestles into his shoulder and then lifts his arm to let you move in closer. Trying to play it cool, he skims the tips of his fingers across your lower back, which is warm and feels like the perfect place to rest his hand.

Convertible guy promptly departs, and Bradley is left standing in an embrace with the one person on the entire planet for whom he should never catch feelings, at a derelict gas station on the outskirts of arid Yuma, Arizona, and the heat is really starting to get to him. Slowly, you start to peel yourself away and Bradley, sensing your withdrawal, drops his hand and recoils from you like you’ve burnt him.

Did it feel nice pretending you were his girl? Sure did. Is he going to erase it from his memory and never let himself so much as shake your hand again? Absolutely.

Read Part 2

Tag List

I’ll be tagging the rest in the comments probably tomorrow!

@joaquinwhorres

@katiemcrae

@sehnsuchts-trunken

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@desert-fern

@catsandbooksandstuff

@Topguncultleader

@avengers-fixation

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