Bradley Bradshaw X Female Reader - Tumblr Posts

Danger Meter [1]

》Pulse《

▪︎Pairings: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader

■Pronouns: She/Her (Fem! Reader)

▪︎Warnings: Language

▪︎Genre: Soulmate Au! Angst and fluff

▪︎Synopsis: Your soulmate rarely seems to be out of the High risk zone according to your mark, which makes you worry. Oh well— you already know that the same goes for him.

Note: This is my first time writing a tgm fic!! Kinda nervous! I hope y'all like it! It's been a long while since I took a break so I haven't really wrote anything (except for my research and stuff), my writing is probably a bit different now

》 Masterlist 》 Bradley's Masterlist

》 Next part

"I swear I'll beat up the son of a bitch, just they wait."

Any other normal person would've considered to stay away from you as you growled those words out loud— or would've asked if you were okay from a safe distance. Your bestfriend beside you stilled for a moment, wondering why you were so hellbent on fighting someone and.. who was it? Another naval aviator? Or your soulmate that you always complain about?

Robert Floyd looked over to where you're sitting, curious to what you'll complain about to him. He saw the mix of worry and anger swimming in your eyes as you continue to look at the rectangular strip on your wrist. Before he could even ask, you showed him the orange stripe which is slowly turning red.

On the day a person is born, there's a rectangular shaped color on their left wrist. The color ranges from green, yellow, orange, red, and black. These colors represent on how safe your soulmate is in their current situation. Green being they're completely fine, red means they're in a dangerous situation (which rarely happens for most cases), and black means that there's a high chance for them to get killed in the situation they're in. The stripe will glow when you made a physical contact with your soulmate.

Having the mark, you can deem it as both a blessing and a curse.

Bob scanned your wrist, his eyes clouding with confusion. Was your soulmate a secret spy? In the military? A criminal? Why are they always in danger? The possibilities are endless.

He has to admit that even though it isn't his soulmate, he can still feel a small sense of dread flooding into his system. What more of his best friend sitting beside him? He could only imagine. "I'm sure they'll be fine, it's not the first time. Have faith in them, y/n/n" He says, trying to comfort you as he pats your back gently— albeit a little akwardly, but that's just a normal Bob thing.

You sighed, stress visible on your face as you rubbed your temples. "I swear Robby, my soulmate could die before I even get to meet them." Your mid-western accent slowly surfacing at the end of your sentence. He watched you as you plopped down his bed, sighing loudly.

"Maybe they're doing it as a revenge? I probably scare them when I go on missions. But why would they endanger themself?" You ranted to yourself as Bob looked at you sympathetically. "Y/n/n, how about try getting some sleep? We have to leave for topgun early in the morning.." He said softly. You sighed, agreeing with him. He walked you over to the front of his family's house.

"I'll see you in the morning, Robby." You smiled, waving at him and going over to your house, which is directly across from his.

"Well what do we have here?"

The human ken doll asked, watching amusedly as you neared him and Coyote, Bob silently following behind you.

"Crash! My favorite pilot, missed me?"

Jake greeted you with (as you'd like to call it) his pretty boy smile, you rolled your eyes playfully as you neared the pool table. He gave you a wink as you sat the down next to Bob.

"Statefarm, I was dreading to be flying with you again actually." You shrugged, taking his newly opened beer. A sound of protest goes unheard as you took a swig of the beverage. "You're gonna buy me another beer, Crash. And It's Hangman. I thought we had something special?"

"Whatever." You waved him off, "Go play." Hangman rolled his eyes, you took some peanuts from Bob. "You talk to me as if I'm a dog. You wound me."

You looked up at him and asked, feigning innocence. "But, Isn't that what you are?" A chorus of 'Ooooh's were heard in the background. After a while, Phoenix, Payback, and Fanboy entered the mix.

"Who's he?" Pheonix's eyes darted to Bob who's sitting beside you. "Who's who?" Coyote asked, all of them looked at Bob simultaneously. "Since when did you get here?" Coyote followed up.

Bob looked at them and offered a smile "Oh I've been here with y/n/n." He motioned over to you.

"The man's a stealth pilot." Jake said. "Weapons System Officer, actually." Bob corrected, Jake nodded. "With no sense of humor."

"Hey! you mess with him, you mess with me." You warned them, slinging an arm around Bob. Hangman raised his hands, "I'm just saying."

"Well you better shut that damn mouth, statefarm." Jake just mumbled, talking about grabbing a few more beers and ringing it up on some old timer.

"What do they call you?" Pheonix asked, looking at Robert.

"Bob." He answered, Payback smiled. "No, your callsign."

"Uhhhh.. Bob."

"Bob Floyd, you're my new backseater? From Lemoore?" Pheonix asked, he smiled. "Looks like it, yeah." You patted Bob's shoulder. "I'll be right back, Robby. Just gonna get more beer." You said as you walked over to Penny, finding Jake as he ordered four more beers.

"And you-" he turned around to face you. "-Still owe me one beer." You smirked, "Make that two." As you grabbed one of the few beers he has. You decided to follow him back, seeing an unfamiliar guy sporting a hawaiian shirt and mustache which weirdly as it sounds— looks good on him. You don't know how long you'd been staring at him, time seemed to slow down when you laid your eyes on him.

The moment your eyes met feels like you got your breath knocked out of your lungs.

You're also pretty damn sure you felt the mark pulse.

This fic will have multiple parts! If anyone wants to be notified just send an ask or comment and I'll make a taglist, hope u enjoyed!

Danger Meter [4]

》Guarded《

▪︎Pairings: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader

▪︎Pronouns: She/Her [Fem!Reader]

▪︎Warnings: Language and Hangman being a jerk.

▪︎Genre: Soulmate Au! Angst and fluff

▪︎Synopsis: Your soulmate rarely seems to be out of the High risk zone according to your mark, which makes you worry.Oh well— you already know the same goes for him.

Note: Bob is my comfort character. This chapter is also a long one!

》 Masterlist 》 Bradley's Masterlist

》 Previous 》Next

"Rooster and Crash, you'll be paired for today."

"Fuck me." You mumbled, as Maverick announced the partners for today's practice regarding the Uranium Mission.

Bob nearly choked at your choice of words.

It's not that you don't want to be paired with him, you just don't think ypu'll be able to focus with him being your partner because of the stupid butterflies in your stomach whenever you hear his voice or catch a glimpse of him.

The fact that he's also as cautious as can be which means you won't be able to do the normal speed you and Hangman fly at.

It's gonna be a challenge.

You walked alongside Bob on the Tarmac, about to get into your jets. Time is ticking and you needed to execute the manuevers and speed for the success of the uranium mission.

You didn't have to say it out loud for Bob to know you're beyond nervous. Given it has only been a day since you ejected from that bird stike accident, you knew you aren't in your best shape.

"You'll be just fine, y/n/n." Bob offered you a gentle smile. You let out a huff, "You sure put a hell lot of trust on me Robby, heck I don't even know if I could trust myself."

"Don't doubt yourself. I know you can do it."

You offered him a smile, "Thanks Robby, it means a lot. You always know how to make me feel better." You patted his head as he hummed.

"You're acting as if I didn't know you your whole life, y/n/n." He chuckled, your conversation was cut short as you saw something out of your pheriperal vision.

"Wait, what happened to statefarm?" You motioned over to Jake Seresin who was currently checking on his jet while sporting a bruised cheek.

Bob sighed, "A fight broke out on Hard Deck last night." You widened your eyes, "What? Last night?! Who did he fight?"

"Rooster." Bob stated, answering you and greeting the pilot as he walked closer to you and Bob. Bradley gave a small smile and a nod to the WSO in reply.

"Hey Roo– " You felt a gust of wind as he walked straight past, completely ignoring you. "What was up with him..?" Trying to shake off the hurt and embarassment, you jogged towards your jet and waving bye to Bob who only sighed and shaked his head before walking to his and pheonix's jet.

Did Bradley felt like an asshole as he purposely ignored you? Absolutely, he wants to go back and kneel as he begs you not to think he's just another jerk and apologize. He feels like a first grader who's being mean to his crush.

Why did he do that? He also doesn't fucking know. He's trying to sort put his thoughts. Well, one of the few reasons is probably for the fact that he knew Hangman was hellbent on keeping you away from him, recalling their incident last night at Hard Deck.

"You don't have the right to control her, Hangman." Rooster spat out, "She's not yours." Jake glared, "I'm just protecting her, Rooster."

"Protecting her from what?"

"From you, you think I don't know how many girls you've been with?"

Payback looked around before apologizing to Penny, seeing how many people are now staring at them, his friends causing a scene.

Coyote tried pulling Jake back, "Come on man, Penny will kick us out if you both won't stop." He shrugged off his friends grip on him.

"Oh I'm not finished."

"I should be saying the same to you, Hangman. You're acting like you're her fucking boyfriend."

"I just don't want her to end up in your bed and for you to discard her the next morning, I know your little crush on her Bradshaw. And I know you want to put her to bed-"

Something inside Rooster snapped as his fist made contact with Hangman's cheek. Jake laughed, knowing that he pushed Rooster's button as he striked back, resulting Bradley's busted lip.

"That's enough! Lieutenant Bradshaw! Lieutenant Seresin!" Maverick yelled as he stood and immediately went between them as Hangman and Rooster were pulled back buy Coyote, Payback, and Fanboy.

"We will discuss what happened early in the morning." Maverick looked at them sternly as he heard the grunts of agreement of the two.

"Rooster, you gotta speed up. We're half a minute late by the target." You informed, looking at the screen in your jet.

"We're good, we'll get there. Just maintain your speed."

You feel like you're going on a stroll or sight seeing with Bradley. You're used to the fast-paced Hangman.

"Increase to 500 knots!"

"Negative, Crash. Hold your speed."

"Rooster, we're late!"

"We're alive, we'll make up time in the straightaway."

You are beyond annoyed and shocked, talking to him feels like talking to a brick wall. Your words are just like white noise to him.

"We are not gonna make it!"

"Just trust me, maintain your speed. We can make it."

You scoffed, "By the time we'll get there we'll be a minute late!" 'This guy is unbelievable.' You thought to yourself as you continued to follow him, maintaning your speed as you've got no other choice.

"Why are you dead?" Maverick asked Rooster, "You're team leader up there, why are you, why is your team dead?"

"Sir, he's the only one that made it to the target." Pheonix interjected, as she looked at their instructor.

"A minute late. He gave the enemy aircraft time to shoot him down."

"That's what I was saying. If it was the real thing then we would've been dead." You mumbled, crossing your arms and letting out a sigh.

Apparently, you weren't silent enough since Rooster turned his head into your direction, hard eyes glancing your way. "You don't know that."

"You're not flying fast enough. You don't have a second to waste." Hangman said, agreeing with you.

Even though you always bicker and fight with Hangman, it was nothing but playful. Although you gotta admit, he's an ass and can get under people's skin, but you're sure to keep him in check. Needless to say, you almost broke his jaw when you two first met because of his habit of pushing people's buttons.

You both make the perfect pair, as soon as you're up in the sky you both worked like a well-oiled machine. Both of you are fast-paced pilots, you're the only one that can keep up with Hangman while simultaneuosly keeping him in check.

Rooster looked at Maverick, "We made it to the target."

"And superior enemy aircraft intercepted you on your way out." Maverick said. Rooster won't back down, "Then it is a dogfight."

You scrunched up your brows, you couldn't believe what you were hearing. "Against fifth generation fighters?" You asked him, clearly in disbelief by his overly optimistic views.

"Yeah, we'd still have a chance."

"In an F-18?" Maverck asks, clearly getting worked up. Bradley looked at him, "It's not the plane sir, it's the pilot."

"Exactly."

The small smile on Bradley's face fell, the room grew silent. Maverick seems to realize his words as he looked away, not meeting anyone's gaze.

Rooster looked at him, trying not to lose his composure, "There's more than one way to fly this mission."

"You really don't get it." Jake looks at Rooster, "On this mission, a man flies like maverick here, or a man does not come back."

Hangman looked at Phoenix and Bob, "No offense intended" You really wanna punch him right now. Pheonix gave him a look while Bob, who was sitting beside her, leaned over to look at him. "Yet somehow you always manage."

Hangman looked back to Rooster, "Look I don't mean to criticize, you're conservative. That's all."

"Lieutenant." Maverick warned.

"Look, we're going into combat, son. A level no living pilot has ever seen." He turned to look at Maverck. "Not even him."

"That's no time to be thinking about the past." He turned to look at Rooster's direction. Shit, you already know this won't be good. Hangman and his mouth is a great fucking combo for a disaster.

"Hangman." You looked at him, knowing he's got shit up at his sleeve. Rooster looks taken aback as he slowly looks at Hangman. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I can't be the onky one that knows Maverick flew with his old man." Your eyes slowly widened, Maverick intervened. "Okay that's enough." Jake didn't listen.

"Or that Maverick was flying when his old man-"

Bradley went straight to him as everyone scrambled in their seats to prevent them being near each other. "Shit! Hangman that's enough!" You stood beside Hangman as you pulled him back. Rooster pushed him, the force knocking Hangman and you.

You winced, trying to hide it. Even though you weren't the one he pushed, you still got the receiving end of it, considering you got brusies littering your body, it did a number on you. Hangman immediately stands infront of you, glaring at Rooster.

"You son of a bitch!" Rooster yelled at Hangman, pointing at him angrily. He felt rage. Pure unadulterated rage consumed his body. As he stares at Hangman, his fellow aviators holding him back.

Hangman shrugged his fellow aviators off, "I'm cool, I'm cool."

Just as you think it's over, Hangman opened his mouth again. "He's not cut out for this mission." You seriously want to ductape it and only remove it when he has to eat or drink.

Everything that has happened is making your head hurt. Pinching the bridge of yoru nose, you took a step back and sighed.

"That's enough." Maverick told him. He just smiled to an agitated Rooster. "You know it." Hangman turned to look at the topgun instructor infront of them.

"You know I'm right."

Taglist [Closed]: @auszimbo @twsssmlmaa @looneylikesbooks

Danger Meter [5]

》Miscommunication《

▪︎Pairings: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader

▪︎Pronouns: She/Her [Fem! Reader]

▪︎Warnings: Language

▪︎Genre: Soulmate Au! Angst and Fluff

▪︎Synopsis:Your soulmate rarely seems to be out of the High risk zone according to your mark, which makes you worry.Oh well— you already know the same goes for him.

》 Masterlist 》Bradley's Masterlist

》Previous 》Next

You pretended you couldn't feel Rooster staring at you from across the room.

You pretended you couldn't see the longingness in his eyes, as you laughed with Bob or joked around with Hangman.

You also pretended you don't think that he's your soulmate.

The past few days has been rough on you, the mental exhaustion evident on your face as the light from the Hard Deck illuminates your face.

"Robby, what brings you here?" You looked over your shoulder, leaning against your car that is parked infront of Hard Deck.

"I know what you're thinking, y/n/n."

You raised one eyebrow, "Care to be specific? I'm thinking 'bout millions of things, Robby." You chuckled, he neared you until he's next to you, leaning against your car.

"I know that you think he is the one." Bob answered, looking at the night sky. You stilled, damn, you couldn't really hide anything from him. Bob already memorized your actions, feelings, and thoughts like the back of his hand.

It's not like you're not the same to him, you know what he wants you to do before he can even say it out loud.

"You want me to test it out." You stated, which made Bob look at you and smile. "Who knows?" You closed your eyes and drew in a breath, a shaky sigh leaving your lips.

"I'm scared."

Bob reached for your hand and gave a comforting squeeze, urging you to continue. "Why?"

"What if he isn't the one? I'd feel like I'm betraying my soulmate because of my feelings for him, Robby." You looked down as Bob widened his eyes, "So you admit you like him?"

"Yes. I do like him, but he probably doesnt' like me." You confirmed as bob shaked his head, telling you that Rooster doesn't dislike you. He needs to talk to Pheonix about this later.

"As long as ypur soulmate isn't Bagman then they're okay to me." His statement earned a chuckle from you, but a thought crossed over your head which dampened your lightening mood.

"And with the Uranium mission coming up.. If I ever get picked for it, will I even come back alive? Will I ever come back at all?" You asked yourself, fear evident in your eyes.

"I want to meet my soulmate before I leave for the mission, I might never come back, Robby. Just once and I will be happy." You looked away. Bob knows exactly what you mean as he shaked his head.

"We will come home safe." Bob stated, as he gripped your hand and made eye contact with you. You could feel him determined, and somehow, his words bring you a sense of comfort.

"So hot." You moaned, fanning yourself with your hands. Jake who coincidentally walks past you, winked. "Thanks sweetheart." You made a disgusted face at him.

"What the.. I was talking about the weather. Shut your trap statefarm or else I'll make you eat sand." You shaked your head as he laughed, walking away. "That damn mouth of his, I swear." You grabbed your sunglasses as you sat at one of the beach chairs.

"Mind if I sit here?" You heard someone asked.

Looking over your shoulder, you repsonded "Sure, whatever. Don't think it's occupied anyway." Rooster looked at you for a long while and sighed, "Look, I'm sorry for ignoring yo-"

"Rooster, I forgive you. Let's just put it behind us, yeah? I'm sure you have your reasons." You mumbled.

"It still doesn't give me the the right to be a douche." He shaked his head, being sincere.

"Sorry about Hangman too, he's a fucking asshole, I know." You added. You heard the chair creak as he sat beside you.

He tried to look at anything but you. But his eyes seemingly cannot do it, he's mesmerized. The fact that this is one of the few times he got to see you without your uniform or flight suit is doing things to him. It's not helping that the navy blue sports bra and white shorts are complimenting your body.

And you acted like you don't know he was checking you out.

"You don't need to apologize on the behalf of him. He's not your responsibility." He stated. You chuckled, "Well, I feel kinda responsible."

"You and Hangman are getting into fights recently, I heard that you got into a fight at Hard Deck." You looked at him.

Rooster drew in a breath. Did you know the reason why they fought? Has Hangman already brainwashed you that he's no good for you and that he's a player?

"I don't know what ypu guys fought about but from what I heard what happened it seems serious."

Rooster stilled for a moment, opening and closing his mouth. You don't know? It's a miracle it hasn't reached you yet, considering almost everyone knows about it now. Bob and Pheonix did a good job at keeping things seemingly under the wraps infront of you.

"Yeah, it is." He mumbled.

"Care to tell me about it?"

"Well.." Bradley hesitates, he doesn't know how.

"I don't bite. Lay it on me, dude." You grinned. Rooster sighed, "We fought because of a girl."

He noticed your smile faltered, or maybe that was just his imagination? Maybe he's just being delusional.

"And? What? He likes the girl and you like her too?" You tried to act like that it didn't affect you. But it did, it felt like someone stabbed you as you listen to Rooster talk about this girl that he's head over heels for.

You weren't dumb, you can see that Rooster is hopelessly in love.

"I like her, I think she's my soulmate."

Tears sprang onto your eyes as you try to keep your smile and voice steady, thank goodness you were wearing sunglasses. Rooster didn't seem to notice it.

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, but Hangman.. He doesn't like that idea."

You need to get out of here, you need to ne away from Rooster. Tears are threatening to spill from your eyes as you can feel your heart hurting.

"Oh, maverick's here.." Your voice cracked, before he can even ask what's wrong you were already jogging towards Bob and Pheonix.

"Rooster, do you realize how fucking dumb are you?" Pheonix asked, glaring as the taller man looked away.

"So that's why she wasn't her usual self earlier in the beach.." Bob mumbled, Rooster asked "Wasn't she just down because she didn't win?"

Pheonix rolled her eyes as she face palmed. "Are you that dense Bradshaw? It's clear that she's painfully inlove with you! You think she's upset over the football? No! It's because you were talking like you have another girl in mind that you like!" She threw her hands up in the air, almost smacking Rooster in the face.

"You think so?.." he asked, looking down.

"That she's inlove with you and that you're dumb? Abso-fucking-lutely."

He wants to fucking believe it, he wants to think that you feel the same way to him. He wants to think that there's a chance you like him and think that he's your soulmate.

"You better figure this out before the mission, Rooster." Pheonix shakes her head. "Do you have any intel, Bob?"

Bob looked at Pheonix uneasily, "This will be the first and last time I'm going to snitch on her, Pheonix."

He knows that snitching on someone isn't good, but he could endure you being angry at him for a few days than not say it. He knows that this is going to be the important key to stop the misunderstandings between you and rooster.

"Yeah I know Bob, get on with it!" Pheonix turned to look at Rooster, making sure he's listening.

"She likes you, Rooster."

Rooster couldn't process it, he blinked a couple of times. "Hold on, one more time." He urged Bob to repeat what he said, maybe he just misheard.

"She's inlove with you, Rooster. She thinks that you're her soulmate."

Bradley Bradshaw couldn't believe it, his mouth opened as he asked a quite ridiculous question. "Are you sure?"

Bob sighed, shaking his head. Love makes people dumb, he thought. "Look man, if you don't believe me then I don't know what to tell you except for find it out yourself."

"Try to touch her subtly, like brush your hands against hers during class and stuff like that. See if your mark will glow." Pheonix suggested, Bradley hummed, considering it.

"What should I do if I find out we're soulmates?"

"I- Rooster, does Bob and I look like an instruction manual for how to deal with your soulmate?" Pheonix facepalmed.

"I was just asking..-"

"Well then it's a dumb question!"

Taglist [Closed]: @auszimbo @twsssmlmaa @looneylikesbooks @krys-orion

ATTENTION ROOSTER NATION!!!!!! okay so im looking for this fic about rooster where yn's call sign is rebel and mav's daughter and they were like super close and rooster like ghosted her after mac pulled his paper. flash forward to now they meet again and slowly reconcile and shes super close w coyote. anyway someone please help bc i cant find it

Birds of a Feather 》 5

❀ Back to Navigation ❀   ❀ Top Gun Masterlist ❀

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x F!Reader

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

WARNINGS: Enemies to Lovers, Mentions of Injury, Angst, Cursing, and FLUFF <3

Summary: It’s finally mission day and both you and Rooster are nervous. The mission is smooth until it’s not and both you and him are put in danger, resulting in quick decisions that will decide if you live or die to see the future you and Bradley Bradshaw both desperately crave.

A/N: The final part!! OMG this took me very long to write and research and plan and… wow I just can’t believe it’s done! Thank you so much to everyone who supported this series - it was my very first time writing both for Rooster and for Top Gun, so the support as been overwhelming and so special to me. You are who encouraged me to write this and make it the best it can be. I hope you all enjoy the final installment!  <3, Songbird

Word Count: 7.6K

An austere mood graced the hangar nowadays. You had been informed that, not only was the mission moved up so that it was in less than a week, but Captain Mitchell was no longer your instructor. It had happened after Coyote attempted the direct climb after the missile was dropped and up the coffin. He lost consciousness, needing Phoenix to wake him up and talk him through ejecting with little time left to spare. It was unbelievably scary, watching Coyote’s jet spin without a pilot guiding it. Thankfully, he was able to eject safely and only needed a night’s observation in the med bay. Now, though, Admiral Simpson was in charge of your little flock.

“Alright. We are imposing a new height ceiling and increasing the time to four minutes.” His statement shocks everyone, making you look at Phoenix, Fanboy, and then turn in your seat to find Rooster’s gaze. His holds the same expression you have – complete and utter confusion.

“But, sir, there’s no way we can have those parameters and come out alive. If we raise the ceiling then the SAMs will find us and if we increase the time then their patrol will be on us before we can fly out of the coffin.” Rooster says, shifting in his seat. The admiral’s lack of response says everything to the lot of you. He wasn’t planning for those flying to come back. Instead, he shifts gears.

Keep reading

OMG I NEED PART 2

Hello, I Love You | Rooster x Reader

Summary: When Phoenix signs Bradley up for speed dating on Valentine's Day, he is skeptical. But after he meets the woman of his dreams, he's not afraid to admit his best friend was right.

Warnings: Pure fluff, adult banter, some cursing

Length: 2300 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written for my Love Is In The Air playlist challenge! Thanks for reading! And please check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun.

Bradley strolled into the Hard Deck, got a beer from Jimmy, and then made his way to the pool table to join his friends. 

"What's up?" he asked Phoenix when she eyed him a little nervously.

"Now, don't get mad, okay?" She set her pool cue down and patted his shoulder.

"What did you do?" Bradley asked, frozen with his beer halfway to his lips. 

Phoenix smoothed out his Hawaiian shirt across his chest and shoulders, and then she took his chin in her hand and turned his face from side to side. "Yeah, okay, should be fine," she muttered, examining his appearance. 

"Nat, seriously, what did you do?"

"Well.... I signed you up for speed dating," she informed him, wincing before he even responded.

"No," he said, adamantly shaking his head. "Nope." Bradley sipped his beer and turned to grab some darts.

"And it starts in thirty minutes," Phoenix added, her eyes going wide as Bradley glared at her.

"Natasha, I'm not going."

"But you're lonely! And it's Valentine's Day! You need a girl!"

Bradley scoffed. "I'm not lonely. I'm... picky."

"Too picky, Rooster. Just go to the speed dating thing, please? I already spent twenty bucks to sign you up," she pleaded. "It comes with a free drink!"

Bradley chuckled. "You think I'll find a girl there? You're insane, Nat. It's going to be the weirdest assortment of people under the San Diego sun. Crazy people who collect cats and probably a bunch of basement dwellers."

But as he watched his friend's face fall, he felt a little guilty. "I just thought you might have fun, you know, putting yourself out there. It's been a year since you dated anyone," she said softly. 

Bradley took a sip of his beer and ran his hand over his face. "Fine. I'll go, but only to prove to you that I'm right and you're wrong."

He watched her jump up and down a few times and clap her hands. "Yes! It's at the Surfside Tavern, and if you leave now, you'll arrive just in time," she said, taking his beer from his hand and pushing him toward the door. "Text me later and let me know how it goes... unless you know, you're busy getting hot with a basement dweller."

Bradley just rolled his eyes and headed toward the Bronco. 

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

"Let me get you signed in! What's your name?" asked a young man with Connor on his name tag. He was seated at a small table at the front of the bar, and now Bradley was getting a little nervous. There were a lot of people here tonight.

"Bradley Bradshaw," he replied, taking a name tag sticker from Connor. 

"Just grab your drink at the bar and head on back to the area where the tables are set up. I'll get everyone started soon," said Connor with a smile. 

Bradley took a deep breath, half tempted to bail, but then he thought it would be worthwhile to get his free drink since Nat stole his other one. He got a beer from the bartender and then turned toward the back of the room, where there were a bunch of guys were wearing suits. 

"Shit," he muttered, glancing down at his own jeans and bright shirt. 

When he looked up, he quickly braced himself as you accidentally bumped into him, the drink in your martini glass sloshing precariously close to the rim. "Sorry!" you gasped, looking up at him. 

He steadied you, wrapping on big hand around your waist as you regained your balance. And Bradley instantly knew there was no chance he would be bailing early tonight. 

"Thanks," you whispered, tapping your martini glass to his beer bottle with a grin.

You took a slow step away from him as Bradley whispered, "Damn." You looked like a real treat, with bright eyes and kind of a shy smile. And as you walked toward all of the guys in suits, you turned to smile back at him over your shoulder.

"Okay, let's get started!" Connor announced, pulling your attention away from Bradley and toward him. "Let's have the ladies each take a seat at one of the tables, and the guys will rotate around the room. You'll have five minutes to get to know each person, and then I'll tell you to switch. You can grab a notepad and a pencil if you want to keep track of names. Let's go!"

Bradley watched you take a seat and cross your legs, subtly glancing at him again. He was pulled toward your table like a magnet, barely able to control himself. But it looked like he wasn't the only one. 

"Fucking suits," he groaned when another guy sat down across from you. Bradley doubled back and chose a table with someone else, practically tripping since he could barely look away. 

"Hi! I'm Bridget!" said the bubbly woman now seated across from him. 

"I'm Bradley," he replied with a smile, trying to discreetly count how many tables away you were sitting. 

"Oh my God! We both have B names! That's insane!" Bridget gushed.

Bradley laughed nervously. "Both are BR names, actually," he muttered. Then he watched her scribble down his name with KEEPER next to it. 

Oh shit. He had to endure five minutes of Bridget listing off potential names for their theoretical future children. Bruce, Brandy, Bryce, Brinley, Brooke and Brynn were apparently all viable options, and when Connor announced that five minutes was up, Bradley launched out of his seat. 

He tried to hustle over to your table, but Connor was on him right away. "We're rotating in order. Remember?" 

Bradley looked over to where you were sitting, shaking hands with your second "date". But you were looking at Bradley and smiling. It looked like you were trying not to laugh. 

Bradley glared down at Connor, towering over him. "Come on, man. See that one over there? I wanna talk to her." 

But Connor was not deterred, and rather showed Bradley to his next table with Angie. "What do you do for a living?" she asked, smiling at him across the table.

"I'm a Naval aviator," he replied, trying to get a peek of you talking with Mr. Suit. 

"Oh," Angie replied, and her smile turned into a frown. "I'm in the Army." Bradley watched her jot down his name and write NO next to it. Then she took out her phone and started to play Candy Crush. 

Once again, when it was time to switch tables, Bradley jumped up and rushed toward yours. 

"Sir, we've been over this before," Connor called after him, but Bradley made his way to where you were sitting with a different guy who was wearing a full-blown tuxedo. 

"Hi," Bradley said, reaching out to shake your hand. He checked your name tag this time; he just fucking knew you'd have a pretty name. And your hand was so small and soft, he held onto it for a moment. 

You looked up at him, and an adorable giggle escaped your lips before you also said, "Hi."

"I just wanted to make sure you know I'm coming up in two more tables," he told you very seriously. 

You nodded your head and pressed your lips together to try to stifle your smile. "Yeah, I noticed that when you tried to knock several people over a few minutes ago."

Bradley smiled at you, already loving your sense of humor.

"Don't write down anything flattering about him, okay?" Bradley nodded toward the guy in the tux who just scowled in response. 

Your shoulders shook with silent laughter. "I'll see what I can do."

"Sir!" Connor scolded. "This is not your table!"

"Yes, Connor, I know," Bradley grumbled, heading over to sit with Michelle.

Michelle eyed him cautiously. "I take it you're only interested in her?" she asked, gesturing toward your table.

Bradley shrugged. "Sorry, Michelle."

She shrugged too. "That's okay. I really liked Simon. Want to hear about the novel I'm writing?"

Bradley was enthralled after five minutes of Michelle explaining the intricate plot of the detective thriller she was working on. "Damn it, Michelle. I need to know how it ends."

She smiled and jotted down his email address. "I'll put you on my mailing list."

Finally Bradley was seated at the table next to yours, just a few feet away from you. "Hi," he said again, and he could tell he must have the dumbest look on his face. 

He watched your lips curl into the most radiant smile. "Hi, Bradley." God, he felt light headed as soon as you said his name. 

"I'll be there soon," he promised, and you blushed a little bit as you turned toward another guy in a fucking suit.

Bradley turned toward Cara and asked, "Has every other guy been in a suit?"

She nodded. "One was in a tuxedo."

"Huh," he grunted, trying so hard not to focus on you while Cara asked him questions about himself. 

"Bradley, where do you work?"

He shook his head, "No... I'm originally from Virginia."

"That's not what I asked."

But Bradley couldn't help it. You were sipping your martini and re-crossing your legs. And the guy you were with sounded boring as hell.

"Are you even listening to me?" Cara asked, breaking his concentration 

"Oh, uh... sorry, no," he replied, smiling at you as you glanced at him.

"Rotate!" Connor called, and Bradley was practically shoving the suit guy out of his seat at your table. 

"Finally," he muttered, smirking as he sat down. Your cheeks were a little flushed as you spun your martini glass on the table by the stem. When your gaze slid up his chest and neck and landed on his face, he asked you, "You've gotta tell me, what are you doing here? You could get a date just walking around Target in your pajamas."

You laughed and bit your lip, tipping your head back to look at the ceiling before meeting his eyes again. "I don't wear pajamas," you told him with a smirk of your own.

Bradley sucked in a breath and let it out slowly. "I rest my case."

"What about you, Bradley? You're cute. I like your mustache. And thank God you're not wearing a suit. You could probably get a date just by shoving the previous guy out of his seat and asking me."

He nodded his head and tried not to smile. You were so fun. And you were quick on the draw. "We'll get there, babe. But actually... my best friend made me come tonight. She thinks I'm too picky when it comes to women."

"Oh yeah? Well, what do you like?" you asked, raising the glass to your lips again and taking another sip.

"So far, I like you. A lot."

Your cheeks were even more flushed now, and Bradley wanted to talk to you all night long.

"What do you look for in a guy?" he asked, leaning his forearms on the table to get a little closer to you.

You leaned a bit closer as well as you told him, "I need someone who can make me laugh. It doesn't hurt if he's handsome. And I think mustaches just moved to the top of my nonnegotiable list."

Bradley licked his lips. "And what's your ideal first date, babe? I'm planning on making it very memorable for you; already hoping for a second."

You laughed again. "Padres game. Complete with beer and ballpark nachos."

"Seriously, why are you here?"

You nibbled on your lip for a beat before you said, "My sister made me come. She said she's so tired of listening to me complain that there are no cute, funny, single guys with mustaches who aren't afraid to wear a green and yellow Hawaiian print shirt in public."

Bradley's entire body was humming. "There's nothing about you that would turn me off, is there?" he asked, and his voice was raspier now. 

He watched you lick your lips and shake your head. "No. Unless you can't stand smart girls who like to be a little sassy when they aren't wearing any pajamas."

Bradley audibly groaned and you giggled. 

"Rotate!" Connor called, and everyone was up and moving around.

"Fuck, no. I'm not moving, Connor!" Bradley called over his shoulder. Your eyes were glittering with amusement, and Bradley was going to leave this bar with you if it killed him.

Connor walked over and sighed. "You've already had five minutes together."

"That's not long enough. Have you seen her, Connor?" Bradley asked, nodding at you. "Fifty bucks if you tack on another five minutes, my man," Bradley promised him, making you crack up across the table. 

Connor just muttered, "Before he wouldn't sit down, now he won't get up." 

Bradley felt you take his hand in yours, and his eyes were immediately on your face. "Let's get out of here, Bradley," you suggested. "Go to another bar? Or go for a walk?"

"Absolutely," he replied, hopping up and pulling you to your feet.

You led him through the bar, smiling at him over your shoulder as you laced your fingers through his, and Bradley could already tell you were his perfect match.

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

Natasha was still shooting some pool with the guys when she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. She pulled it out to read a text from Bradley.

Rooster Bradshaw: YOU WERE RIGHT.

"I knew it!" she shouted, jumping up and down again.

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

Thanks for reading! There are plenty of other love song themed Top Gun: Maverick stories available here!

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The Younger Kind Part 25 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley doesn't know how he will be able to function if Meredith wins custody. As Noah cries in the courtroom, he whishes he would have done more to ensure this never happened. But when he watches you, terrified but supporting him anyway, he knows what he really needed this whole time was you. 

Warnings: Angst, swearing, fluff, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4100 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

The courtroom was freezing cold. Your blazer was scratchy against your arms, and Noah was already crying. As soon as Bradley had to hand his son over to the court appointed counselor, Noah's tears started flowing. And now you were seated in the front row, right behind Bradley, but you couldn't slide down the bench to get to Noah. You couldn't even look at the back of Bradley's head for too long without feeling like it was suspicious. 

So you sat there and listened to Noah softly ask for his dad over and over again while Judge Greene listed everyone who was present today. When your name was called, Meredith and her lawyer both turned back to look at you with identical sneers.

Stay strong. Stay strong. You kept telling yourself you would handle this, but you didn't even have to do anything yet, and you already felt ready to fold. But the soft sobbing from Noah and the fact that Meredith hadn't looked at her son once kept you motivated. 

Both lawyers gave statements which were largely identical, each one claiming their client would be the better option to raise Noah. But you noticed that while Bradley was fighting for zero visitation rights for Meredith, she was doing the opposite. She seemed willing to have Bradley visit with Noah if she won today. And that made you nervous, because even to your untrained ears, it sounded like she was more flexible than him. She also made it clear she was going to fight for financial support. 

"Lieutenant Bradshaw, please stand and give your statement," Judge Greene commanded. You had listened last night at Bradley's kitchen table while he read over his personal statement with Tracy, but hearing his deep, raspy voice shake now had you squeezing your hands to keep calm. 

"My son turned four on April twelfth. For every single one of his birthdays, I have been the only parent involved in his life. If something needs to be done for him, I do it. I pay for everything. I care for him in every way. He only knows me," Bradley said, taking a deep breath. "His mother abandoned us. Both of us. And I know he's sitting right behind me and listening to everything I'm saying. And I can hear him crying, which is making it really hard to stand here right now. But I also know he has no idea who his biological mom is. I do not think it would be in his best interest to remove him from his home and the parent who loves him."

When Meredith stood to give her statement, you could tell she felt defensive. It was rolling off of her in waves. Her voice was harsh as she tried to make claims that you just couldn't believe. "Bradley has kept my son from me. For years I've tried reaching out to him, and I'm lucky to even get a response. So the idea that I could have abandoned them is preposterous. He never asked me for money, so I never gave it. Had he asked, I would have been more than happy to help provide. But along with that, changes in my lifestyle have meant that I'm ready to take full control of my son's custody. As his mother. And I'm more than willing to work with a court appointed counselor to ensure that visitation rights would be granted. I'm being more than fair. A mother is better equipped to care for her child than a father."

You were shivering in the cold room now, and while Bradley's posture had only incrementally changed, you could tell he was angry. But Tracy looked completely relaxed. How could that be? Meredith was a fucking liar! And Noah was whining for his dad! And nothing that was going on in this room was fair or just. 

The lawyers were going back and forth like a verbal wrestling match now. It was impressive. Mesmerizing. When one of them seemed to have the upper hand, the other made a swift comeback. The only problem was, Meredith was being made to sound like a saint. You couldn't understand why Tracy wasn't going for the kill right now. The sooner this was over, the sooner you and Bradley could take Noah back to his house and let things go back to normal. The three of you eating dinner together would help Noah forget about his tears. You wanted your boys to pretend today never happened.

You watched Meredith's profile as she sat there, completely aloof when Judge Greene called the counselor and Noah up toward the bench. Noah pulled his hand away and ran right for Bradley, tears in his eyes again. 

"It's okay, Bub," he soothed, dropping down from his chair to kneel in front of his son. "It's okay to go with them. It won't even take long."

"I want to go home," Noah hiccupped, looking between you and Bradley, knowing the comfort that one or both of you usually provided him. But none of that came right now. Bradley picked him up and handed him over with a soft kiss on the cheek. Noah wailed as he was carried off to the judge's chambers for some one on one questions with Judge Greene. 

And Meredith sat there like she hadn't a care in the world while Bradley cradled his head in his hands on the table in front of him. Tracy tried to get him to drink some water from her bag, but he wouldn't. You reminded yourself not to look at him too much, and that's when Meredith caught your eye again. She was fighting to try to keep the smirk from her face as she tried to appear serious. You knew what she was probably going to have her lawyer ask you. You knew it was going to be ridiculous. But you didn't like the way she was looking at you like you were the only thing between her and what she wanted. 

When Judge Greene returned empty handed, Bradley scrambled to his feet. "Where's Noah?" he asked, and Tracy was immediately trying to get him to sit down.

"In my chambers, coloring. He's just fine. Now, I'd like to call up some character witnesses."

You waited while three separate people spoke about Meredith like she was sunshine incarnate instead of a woman who left her son behind like he was nothing to her. Then your name was called. You made your way up to the seat near the front, and Meredith's lawyer wasted no time in trying to break you. 

"You're a character witness for Bradley Bradshaw?"

"Yes," you replied, mortified by the way your voice shook. "I am."

"And how do you know him?"

You swallowed hard. "I babysit Noah on occasion." It was the truth, but it felt like a lie. Saying you were just Noah's occasional babysitter was a wholly inadequate representation of what the two of them meant to you. Of how much you loved them. You had to swallow against the sick feeling in your throat.

"Is that all you do when you're watching Noah? Or do you stay? Earn some money by doing things for Lieutenant Bradshaw?"

Cold sweat broke out along your neck and chest, and your eyes shifted to Bradley without warning. He looked irate and red in the face, and you were already embarrassed after less than a minute of questioning. 

"I object!" Tracy called out, waving her hand in the air. "That's hearsay. And irrelevant." 

"Sustained," Judge Greene said calmly, as if there was no reason for you to feel like you were going to vomit right now. "Any further questions?"

But of course Meredith's lawyer had more questions for you. And they were all designed to make you look bad. 

"How did you pay for nursing school? Did Lieutenant Bradshaw offer to give you an outlandish salary to spend time with him? Do you actually have any experience watching a child that age? How are you qualified to spend time with him? What sorts of questionable things did you find in that house?"

You tried to answer each question with calm composure, but soon you felt like you couldn't breathe. Your eyes were burning. You turned to the judge, but she gave you a bland look. You were on your own. So you took a deep breath, determined to finish this even if your voice was shaking again.

"As a nursing student, you must have access to prescription drugs. Do you use them?"

"No!" you said, having had just about enough of this. Bradley was rubbing his hand along his face, barely keeping it together. Tracy was looking at you, eyes pleading with you to hold it together. "I do not steal or use prescription drugs. I'm studying pediatric nursing. I'm more than qualified to take care of Noah."

"Would you be willing to be drug tested?" the other lawyer asked. 

"Absolutely. You want blood? Urine? Hair? Depending on the lab, you could have results by the end of the day." Your jaw was clenched tight. 

"One last question," he said with a smile. "Is it true that you seduced Lieutenant Bradshaw? And that you're pregnant with his child?"

The audible gasp that came from you mirrored Tracy's. Bradley was now gripping the edge of the table in front of him. You were shaking as you said, "I'll take a pregnancy test, too."

You would do it if they made you. But it didn't seem fair. Your relationship with Bradley didn't have anything to do with how he cared for Noah. It didn't have anything to do with how qualified you were to babysit. Tears filled your eyes, but you had promised Tracy you wouldn't cry. You watched through blurry vision as she jumped to her feet and approached your seat. 

"He's badgering the witness with irrelevant questions!" she said, and Judge Greene told the other lawyer to sit down. 

Tracy must have been able to tell you were shaken up, because she asked, "Can we take a short recess?"

"No," Judge Green replied with a sharp shake of her head. "Let's carry on with your questioning."

Tracy took her time walking back to the table and gathering her notes, giving you a moment to catch your breath. Your hands were still shaking when Tracy asked you, "Did Lieutenant Bradshaw ever make you feel uncomfortable?"

"No. Never." 

"Did he ever criticize the way you cared for his son?"

"No," you said, your voice sounding stronger now. 

Tracy shuffled her papers and asked, "Does Lieutenant Bradshaw seem to be a loving and caring parent to Noah?"

"Yes," you replied with conviction. 

"Now, can you tell me a little bit about how you injured your arm in the parking lot at Meyer Park?"

You watched the color drain from Meredith's face as you recounted the way she had scared you, forcing you to run to safety with Noah.

"And was that the only time you saw her prior to this morning?" Tracy asked. 

"I saw her yesterday," you replied. "At the grocery store. I thought she was following me."

"Objection!" shouted the other lawyer. 

"Sustained," responded Judge Greene. Your head was swimming with what you were supposed to say and what you were supposed to stay away from. You couldn't remember. And you could barely focus on Tracy. But she wanted you to get to the point. You could tell.

So you blurted out, "Meredith asked me if I was sleeping with Bradley to get to his money. She mentioned a life insurance payout and his expensive car."

"It's actually a Bronco," Bradley muttered, raking his fingers through his hair as Meredith slammed her hand down on the notebook in front of her and started whispering to her lawyer. 

Tracy asked another question quickly while everyone else was distracted. "And what did you do when you left the grocery store?"

She was giving you an encouraging look, so you said. "I looked some things up online. About how her business filed for bankruptcy. And her home went into foreclosure. And she said in an interview after Noah was born that she doesn't have any kids."

"Objection!" the other lawyer shouted again. 

"Overruled," said Judge Greene, and Tracy looked like just won the lottery. "Please continue," she said, brow creased in concern now.

You felt like an idiot as you told Tracy that you used Google to search for information about Meredith, but you just kept going. 

"I found articles that suggest that her business went into bankruptcy because of mismanaged funds. And insider trading with her business partner. They were married, but it appears that he left her."

Every single time the other lawyer tried to object to what you were saying, the judge overruled it. And then Tracy urged you to continue. But you were shaking from a combination of anxiety and fear. 

"It sounds like she has no money," you said, voice quivering again as you met Bradley's eyes. You'd never seen him look so distraught or so hopeful before. He was silently cheering you on, like he knew how strong you could be. So you kept going.

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

Bradley was practically ready to crawl out of his own skin. He couldn't stand the way Meredith's lawyer kept yelling at you. He hated that he had to sit here in this horribly uncomfortable seat and just listen as your character got ripped to shreds. He wanted to take you and Noah home, order a pizza and watch a movie. You looked like you wanted to cry, but you didn't. And Bradley was so proud of how strong you were.

When Tracy started asking you questions, you sat up a little taller. You sounded a little bolder. And then Meredith was the one in a state of panic. 

"It sounds like she has no money," you said, as you met Bradley's eyes. "That doesn't sound like the right reason to fight for custody of a child."

The room went silent for a second after that. And then Meredith stood up and said, "I've lost everything, okay? Everything! But Noah is my blood, and I have a right to him, too!"

Then chaos broke out. When Bradley stood and said, "Why do you want him now that you're broke, huh?" he felt Tracy's hands on his arm, pulling him back to his chair. 

"Let her sink her own ship," she whispered, keeping a firm hand on his forearm. You were still sitting up in the front, perched on the edge of the seat like you wanted to run. He wanted to scoop you up like he always did, for your own comfort, but for his as well. 

He listened to Meredith rant and try to blame him for everything as her lawyer begged her to sit. He listened to her call you a slut and claim once again that you were pregnant. She said she knows you bought pregnancy tests at the grocery store. So what if you were pregnant? It didn't have anything to do with Noah or Bradley's ability to take care of him. It didn't have anything to do with that fact that Bradley would never abandon a child like she had. 

He watched Judge Greene remain completely calm as Meredith's lawyer finally got her to sit down. Then she stood and said, "Please bring me all written evidence. I'll have my decision shortly." Both lawyers handed her folders before she disappeared into her chambers. 

"Where's Noah?" Bradley asked Tracy immediately, accepting a bottle of water from her. 

"He's with the counselor. He's fine. And you did great."

"I barely did anything!" he growled, worried he hadn't done enough today. He'd done nothing compared to you. As you stood and made your way to the rows of benches behind him, you never met his eyes. He loved you. All he ever wanted to do was protect you from all of this. You shouldn't be here right now. If he lost Noah today, he didn't know how he was going to continue to exist. And you should have had no part in this nightmare. 

He'd forced this on you in a way. Every step he took since he met you led you here. Bradley had tried so hard to cut you out, end things with you, but he was so fucking weak. He should have been more focused on Noah. But he had been. He'd been trying to find someone to date who would make him and Noah complete, or at least better. And despite his initial reservations, that was you.

When he turned to face you, your eyes snapped up to meet his. He'd never be able to thank you enough for everything you'd done for both of them. But he wanted to have the chance. He wanted you to know what you meant to him and to Noah. 

"How long is this going to take?" he asked Tracy, wiping his sweaty palms on his suit pants. He could hear Meredith talking, but he kept himself focused on his lawyer.

"Hard to say," she told him calmly. "Just keep breathing. Focus on your breathing." 

So he did, and when he started to feel sick again, Tracy talked to him. And then Judge Greene was coming back out, and Bradley could see Noah through the door before it closed. Dread rose inside him as the judge had everyone in the room stand. He felt like his limbs weighed a million pounds as he faced the front of the room. 

Every second of silence made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He almost had to reach for Tracy when Judge Greene said, "In light of today's testimonies and evidence plus the collection of evidence I reviewed leading up to the trial, I have reached a decision regarding the custody of Noah Bradshaw."

Bradley had to close his eyes. All of his senses were overwhelmed, and he was afraid he was going to breakdown. 

"The following decision is a reflection of what is in the best interest of the child. Full custody is to be awarded to Bradley Bradshaw. There will be no visitation privileges. There will be no child support owed. The child's biological father is to be his sole guardian."

Bradley collapsed back down onto the chair as he cried. "Oh my god," he groaned, cradling his face in his hands. He was gasping for air as he felt Tracy's hand on his shoulder. He could see Meredith storm out of the room. He could hear you laughing and crying at the same time behind him as the counselor walked back out of the judge's chambers with Noah. 

And then he was out of his chair again, rushing toward his son and scooping him up. "I colored you a monkey," Noah told him as Bradley smothered his whole face in kisses. 

"I love it," Bradley promised him without even looking at the coloring sheet. "It's perfect, and I love it so much." He buried his face against Noah's neck and inhaled. 

"And I colored a unicorn for Princess."

"Yeah?" Bradley asked, holding him tight. "She's gonna love it, too."

"I know," Noah replied confidently. "I told them about how she brings me coloring books and cooks food like spaghetti. And how she plays blocks and reads and can sing good."

"You told them about Princess?" Bradley asked, turning to the back of the room. You were waiting patiently for them, a huge smile on your face as you bounced a little bit on your feet.

"Yep. I told them that she loves me and that you do too. Can we go home yet?"

As much as Bradley wanted to keep you separate from all of this, he needed you the whole time. And so did Noah. He rushed toward you and took you by the hand. "Now we can go home."

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

You unlocked the front door with your key, and Bradley kissed you again. A huge smile was still plastered all over your face as you watched how much he loved his son. He ended up on his back on the living room floor while Noah sat on top of him and laughed. Bradley's suit was a wrinkly mess now as you knelt down next to them. 

"You want spaghetti for dinner, Noah?" Your appetite was back, and you were ravenous. There was no doubt in your mind that Bradley could do with a good meal as well.

"Yeah! And ants on logs!" 

You kissed his chubby cheek and said, "Let me check on the raisin situation." Then you leaned down to kiss Bradley's lips, and he pulled you back for a second and a third. 

He murmured, "I love you," before briefly swiping your tongue with his. You ran your fingers back through his hair and let your forehead rest on his. 

"I love both of you." Then you kissed his nose and went to the kitchen, letting them have a little more time alone as they laughed on the floor. 

As you set a pot on the stove to boil some water, your eyes filled with tears. It felt like a combination of stress and relief and happiness. You sank to the floor with your back to the cabinet and cried. When you left the courthouse with Bradley, Meredith was nowhere to be found. Bradley had hugged Tracy with tears in his eyes, and she promised to be in touch with him soon to take some final actions. And then she told you that you had done a great job of staying calm and presenting evidence against Meredith while acting as a character witness. "I wish everyone was as professional as you."

Her words echoed in your head as you remembered that you didn't live here with Bradley and Noah. Not really. You were still going to need to finish writing your final papers for school and start looking for a job to support yourself. Because contrary to what Meredith thought, you hadn't been fucking Bradley to get him to pay your tuition. You had a mountain of loans to pay off now. And really, it would be better if you left after dinner tonight and went home. You'd have to get used to a routine where Bradley was your boyfriend with his own space. 

Noah came running in a minute later as you wiped your eyes. "I'm hungry," he informed you, sitting down on your lap. Bradley walked in without his suit coat on. His shirt sleeves were rolled up. His tie was loose, and his top few buttons were undone.

"How about I make dinner and you just supervise?" he asked, pulling you to your feet. "You had a long day, too."

So you nodded at him, and he picked you up and set you on the counter. And then he set Noah on your lap and started the playlist you made. You showed him how to brown the meat and add the sauce. You showed him how to keep the spaghetti noodles from sticking together.

And as he was plating the food, he paused and looked at you. "I forgot. I picked something up at the store the other day for us to celebrate with. Wait here." He dashed out of the room, and you slipped down off of the counter with Noah in your arms. You finished getting the spaghetti onto plates and pulled out the carrots to make him some ants, and then Bradley was back in the kitchen with the biggest bag of Skittles you had ever seen.

Laughter bubbled out of you along with another sob. "I'm happy, but I can't stop crying."

He tossed the Skittles aside and grabbed you by the hips. "That's because you really care about us. You always have. And you saved us today."

The prickle of his mustache against your skin had you parting your lips for him. He held you close, his thumbs stroking you through your pants as you worked your fingers through his hair. "I love you," he rasped, releasing your lips in favor of whispering the sexiest, loveliest things in your ear while Noah made a huge mess of spaghetti at the table. 

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

Ahhhhhhhhh! Ahhhhhhhhh! Hope you enjoy your fic, @beyondthesefourwalls And thank you @mak-32 !

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thank you for the love on open arms 🥺 it’s been a long time since i’ve been proud of a piece of writing and it means a lot to have it shared and enjoyed 🫂

i'll look after you (bradley "rooster" bradshaw x reader)

word count: ~1.3k

synposis: "don't think, just do," was a challenging mentality to live by. but bradley quickly finds there is a balance to be had between thinking and doing.

warnings: allusions to anxiety, work abuse, overthinking

a/n: another hurt/comfort, who's surprised? this has been sitting in my drafts with an unfinished smut ending for a month but i’m electing to post without it as i’m not confident in my ~other~ writing abilities yet.. enjoy!

It was rare that the Navy ever let its aviators off early for the day; even more so for the elite members of Top Gun. Yet, with the clock barely stroking past a sunny four, Bradley was reclined on the sofa with a beer in hand. The house was spotless thanks to a shared cleaning spree the day prior. Nothing could have made for a more perfect turn of events.

But Bradley was pondering on the few texts he'd received that day. They were void of any of the color and character he was used to. None of the words exaggerated their spelling, and periods punctuated every short sentence. Everyone had once remarked him as a chronic overthinker both in the air and on the ground. It was easy to dismiss the gnawing he felt in his gut as the remnants of that mentality.

So, he cracked a Heineken and let himself indulge in uncommon solitude. The flat screen played his favorite drama to placate his mind. A subtle hunger led to perusing online menus for takeout ideas. Every little bit of stimulation was a welcome distraction from his pompous presumptions.

And then he heard it: the abrupt slam of a car door. Fumbling footsteps made their way to the front stoop followed by a clamoring of keys against the painted wood. Bradley grinned as he awaited the arrival, even through the slight tug of worry in his chest.

He watched as you stumbled inside without care. Shaking hands hung up tightly gripped keys and those same fumbling feet kicked off their shoes in frustration. Your shoulders rose and fell sharply with every short breath.

Was I overthinking?

Bradley had yet to see your face, had yet to meet those eyes always bright with excitement. Your face remained tucked toward the wall with each passing second. Swallowing his hesitation, Bradley spoke over the TV. "Baby?"

Your body reacted in shock, jolting up as your head whipped around.

I wasn't.

Hot tears were rolling down your cheeks. Said cheeks were splotchy, proof that these tears were far from the first you'd shed that day. The bright eyes he adored were puffy and red. Their brightness now was not out of joy but sorrowful watering.

Bradley's heart clenched tightly. "Oh, angel," he cooed, hurrying to displace his Heineken to a coaster and mute the TV. You had little time and no energy left to fight his comfort. As your boyfriend stood before you with open arms, you crashed into them.

He wasted no time in embracing you. Sobs broke past your wobbling lips and muffled against his shoulder. "I've got you, babe," Bradley soothed. "I've got you, it's okay. Just let it out."

All you had ever wanted was for someone to support you whenever life put you through the wringer. Bradley felt it a great privilege to be that support, knowing you'd do nothing short of the same for him. He almost cursed himself for letting his insecurities derail his intuition for you, but dismissed the old habit of self-deprecation. Nothing mattered more in this moment than helping you get back on your feet.

"I- I didn't know, you'd be ho-home," you blubbered. The comment irked something in him. How long had you been coming home in a similar state, putting yourself together just in time for him to get home? Were there more despondent texts or other warning signals he hadn't picked up on?

Each hypothesis built a greater desire to look after you, and to follow up on any twinge of doubt he felt. He needed not only to think but to take action on what he thought. "Shh, none of that, baby. None of that. You can always let go around me, okay? 'Can always tell me what's bugging you."

The words lifted heaviness off of you little by little. You cried more at the safety you felt in his words. Bradley guided you, leaden-legged, to the couch. He sat first before gently tugging you atop his lap.

Warm palms rubbed against your cheeks to dry them. Warmer brown eyes sunk into yours, unconditional love seeping through every glint of gold. "Do you wanna talk about it now, or later?" Though not wanting to let your feelings fester, Bradley didn't desire to press you for answers.

He watched as you took in a steady breath and nodded slowly. "Work's just.. just been really frustrating." You sniffled before continuing with anecdotes of being overworked and underappreciated.

Bradley continued to rub softly at your skin as you spoke. His lips pressed assuring kisses to your temples at times you got too worked up to continue. He gave every ounce of care and attention he could to your stories as you vented them out.

You slumped forward in his hold as you finished with a heaving sigh. Another soft kiss was pressed to the crown of your head. "Thank you for telling me, baby." His hands took up rubbing up and down your arms to help ease any remaining tension.

Bradley wasn't sure what he could say or do to make any of this better for you, to help resolve your problems in one fell swoop so that you never had to feel this way again. At the same time, he wasn't sure that a fix-it attitude was what you wanted or needed.

Don't think, just do.

"I want you to know that you're amazing. You work your ass off in everything you do without any promise of reward, and that's really admirable." You lifted your head slightly to see him, to see the sincerity dripping from his praises. "But you deserve recognition for it. It's not fair that you're continually overlooked for fuckheads who don't do a fraction of the shit you do. And it's not fair that you're made to feel so much less than you're worth. I'd kick all their asses if I could." His empty threat broke a small giggle from your lips as grateful tears replaced those of frustration.

Bradley returned your smile with one of his own before resuming a serious tone. "You don't ever have to put on a show for me, okay? I want you to know you're safe to come to me with anything, even the littlest complaints that you write off as whining. Do you ever think I'm whining about Jake getting on my nerves? Or Maverick getting too tough with me in the air?"

"Sometimes."

"Okay, that wasn't the best example." You laughed again, louder this time, and Bradley felt his chest swell with pride. He leaned forward to catch your lips against his, softly, allowing you to take the reins. The kiss stayed soft and sweet as you melted against him. Soft breaths filled the space between you as you parted, resting foreheads against one another. "I'll always look after you, angel. Don't forget that." You nodded in agreement before kissing him once more.

"Thank you."

🏷️: @avengersfan25

Wrong Number | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley was planning on a quiet night at home with a beer and a basketball game on TV. When he receives a text from a wrong number, he's left looking at a beautiful photo of you. Now he just needs to persuade you to ditch the guy you meant to text and focus on him instead.

Warnings: Fluff, swearing, slight dirty talk, Bradley touching himself

Length: 4700 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written for Rocktober. Check out my masterlist for more. Banner made by @thedroneranger

Bradley had endured such a long week at work, all he wanted to do was change out of his uniform, grab a beer from his fridge and lounge around on the couch in his underwear without a responsibility in sight. Nobody should have to work until ten on a Friday night, but it had taken him that long to sort through the massive stack of paperwork from Admiral Simpson. At least now he had nothing planned for the rest of his evening.

His apartment was too hot, and the cold bottle of beer pressed to his bare thigh as he reached for the TV remote left some droplets of condensation. It felt good. He took another sip as his phone vibrated next to him. With a soft grunt, he abandoned the remote in favor of the phone and unlocked it with his pass code.

There was a new text from an unknown number. And there was a photo attached. He grimaced, afraid of what he was going to find if he tapped on it. He read the phone number twice, but it didn't sound familiar beyond the San Diego area code. He let his head tip back as he recalled the time he pissed Nat off and she gave his phone number to a random sailor in retaliation. Bradley really hoped he wasn't going to have to kindly ask someone to stop sending him dick pics like last time. 

Before he lost the nerve, he tapped on the message, and his screen was suddenly filled with a photo of a woman who looked just a few years younger than him. And she was hot. He paused with his beer bottle halfway to his lips before letting it settle back down to his thigh. 

Hey, Alan. It's me. So now you have my phone number, too.

Bradley didn't know who the hell Alan was, but he wasn't mad about the mix-up. This photo was something else. It almost looked like it was taken in the bathroom at the Hard Deck. The lighting was bad, and there was a paper towel dispenser in the background, but whoever you were.... damn, you were stunning. All pretty features and smiling like you had a secret. 

It took him a moment to stop staring at the photo and return to the previous screen and your message. He was going to have to tell you that he wasn't Alan and that you had the wrong number, but he just sat there and tapped his phone case instead. He didn't even like the name Alan, but damn if he didn't want to be Alan right now. That lucky bastard had you interested in him. 

Bradley was wondering how the mix-up happened in the first place as he drafted up a text to you. Only some sort of fucking idiot wouldn't check and double check that he gave you the right number. "Amateurs," he mumbled as he typed with a little smirk on his face.

Hey, sorry to inform you, but this actually isn't Alan. However, I wouldn't mind one bit if you kept sending me the photos that are meant for him.

He hit send and tossed his phone aside, assuming you'd just block him and move on with your night. He brought his beer bottle back to his lips and enjoyed the way the drink helped cool him down while he contemplated taking a shower, but when he reached for the remote again, his phone vibrated. 

There was another message from the same number. Intrigued, Bradley unlocked his phone again, and he was pleased to see another text and another photo.

Hi, Not-Alan. Sorry about that! I hope you have a great night.

This photo was similar to the first one, except that you were flipping him the peace sign and winking which made Bradley laugh. You seemed fun, even through this limited interaction. And he was sure that was the ladies' bathroom at the Hard Deck, which pissed him off, because he got out of work so late he didn't feel like going out tonight. Maybe if he had been there, you wouldn't have been talking to Alan in the first place.

"Damn it." He was intrigued. He wanted to know more about this.

My night is substantially better now that I have two photos of you. So where did Alan get off to anyway? And why is he trying to steal my phone number?

This time Bradley was dying for another response. But it didn't come. He stared at his phone for a solid minute before returning to his beer and downing the rest of the bottle. Still nothing. He stood and made his way into the kitchen, tossing his empty into the recycling bin before getting another one from the fridge and eyeing up the food situation. He should probably eat something, but he swore he heard his phone vibrating. When he looked over to the couch, the screen was lit up. 

He slammed the fridge door and opened the new bottle before heading back to his phone. There was no photo this time, but there was a new message.

I actually lost Alan in the crowd, so really, the man could be just about anywhere. And I don't think he was trying to steal your number at all, Not-Alan. He wrote it on my palm, and it smeared before I could add it to my phone.

"Okay," Bradley said out loud. "Now we're getting somewhere." He sat down on the couch with his beer on the coffee table and started a new message. 

Alan should learn how to write neater in the future, because he's missing out here. You have to double check that someone who looks like you got the number right. Everyone knows that.

Bradley decided that he was going to have no shame for the night. Not as long as you kept writing back to him. He was contemplating how to save your number in his phone when another selfie with a message came through. You were out by the bar at the Hard Deck with a smile on your face, and you were holding up your palm complete with Bradley's smeared phone number.

Does this number look familiar, Not-Alan? Still no actual Alan in sight, by the way. 

Bradley supposed that the 7 could have been mistaken for a 1. Or maybe Alan's phone number had a 5 that got smeared into a 6. It didn't really matter. Bradley was going to shoot his shot and hope Alan didn't resurface. 

Good, Alan can just stay lost. What's your name, pretty girl?

Then he saved your number as Pretty Girl, and this time he did manage to turn the TV on while he waited with his phone in his hand. He muted the Clippers game and picked up his beer before promptly setting it back down again.

Pretty Girl: Not so fast, Not-Alan. You tell me your name first. And how old you are. And your blood type and the last four of your social security number. 

Bradley laughed and started typing. He realized he hadn't stopped smiling for the last twenty minutes as he hit send.

I'm Bradley. I'm 34. O positive. 2305.

On a regular night, the basketball game would have held his attention, but tonight he couldn't stop looking at his phone. "Come on, Pretty Girl," he muttered, running his beer bottle along his thigh before taking a sip. 

Pretty Girl: Okay, Bradley. You have my attention. Send me a selfie exactly where you are, and I'll think about telling you my name. No changing into something nicer. No fixing your hair. Just a selfie. Right now.

Bradley looked down at himself in just his black boxer briefs and mumbled, "If you say so." When he set his phone camera to selfie mode, he looked at the screen and realized his hair still looked pretty decent from work. So he went ahead and took a picture where he was wearing a bit of a skeptical smirk, and he sent it before he could think twice. 

And now his heart was beating a little faster. This was probably where you'd stop responding. Oh hell, at least he went for it, but a few minutes later, you still hadn't sent anything back to him. Maybe he could have tried to hide the scars on his neck and cheek, but what was the point? Clearly you were sending him actual selfies you'd taken tonight, and he did exactly what you'd told him to. Then his phone vibrated.

Pretty Girl: Do you really expect me to believe that you're not just googling "hot shirtless guy with a mustache", downloading a photo, and trying to pass it off as yourself?

He tipped his head back and laughed. There was just something about you. He didn't even know your name or what your voice sounded like, but he could already tell he was going to like both of those things. If you ever told him or let him hear you.

That's really me. Promise. Will you tell me your name now? Or do I have to keep calling you Pretty Girl?

He was wondering if you were still at the bar, surrounded by guys like Alan who would love to take you home while you were chatting with him. And he hoped the next text would contain your name. But you just ignored him when you wrote back a few minutes later. 

Pretty Girl: Prove you're not just sending some photos of a random hot dude. Go stand by your open refrigerator and take a selfie. Then take another one with your toothbrush. 

"She's a handful," Bradley murmured as he stood with a smile. He carried his beer into the kitchen, opened his refrigerator and snapped a selfie where the fridge light somehow accentuated his features nicely. Then he left his beer on the counter while he went into his bathroom. He was actively trying not to smile for this one where he had his red toothbrush hanging out of the side of his mouth, but he was on the verge of laughing at how ridiculous his night turned out to be. 

He typed up a message and attached both photos and then sent them off while he finished his beer at the kitchen counter, Clippers game forgotten. 

What is this, Pretty Girl? A hostage negotiation? I already told you, that's really me.

It didn't take too long for you to respond this time, and Bradley wasn't even letting his screen dim long enough to need to unlock it now.

Pretty Girl: Are you naked in these photos?

"Jesus," he muttered. Of course he wasn't. Did you want him to be? Shit, he needed to stop thinking about that.

No! I'm wearing underwear. You told me not to get changed or anything.

He felt flushed and too warm as he set his phone down on the counter and went to open some windows. Then he walked a few laps around his apartment in an effort to chill the fuck out. He wasn't even with you, and you were under his skin. 

When he returned to his phone, there was a selfie and a message waiting for him. In the photo, you were sipping a drink, and the way the straw pressed to your perfect lips had him practically moaning. 

Pretty Girl: My friend thinks there's something wrong with me. I'm at a Navy bar in San Diego at the moment. There are hot guys galore, and yet I'm glued to my phone. 

"Shit, shit, shit." Bradley thought about getting dressed and heading out to the bar himself. Then maybe he could hear you tell him your name in person right before he pulled the straw away from your mouth and kissed you.

How much longer are you going to be at the Hard Deck, Pretty Girl?

Bradley started heading for his bedroom closet when his phone vibrated in his hand.

Pretty Girl: How do you know I'm at the Hard Deck? Do I need to smash my phone to bits and go into hiding?

"Fuck," he grunted, typing so quickly he had to go back and fix several spelling errors before he could send it. The last thing he wanted to do was make you uncomfortable, so he paused before getting any clothing out of his closet.

Because I'm in the Navy, and I live in San Diego. And I recognized the inside of the bathroom from the first photo you sent me. I swear I'm not creepy. You can ask Penny, the bartender and owner of that fine establishment. I spend enough time there. Show her my photo.

Bradley collapsed onto his bed with his forearm over his eyes and his phone clutched to his chest. He didn't have to check the time to know it had been a while since he texted you. He also didn't have to look at his phone to know it was after midnight now and that you and he had been chatting for almost two hours. Bradley jolted when the phone vibrated against his chest.

Pretty Girl: Okay. Alright. Penny is a sweetheart, and your story checks out. Also, she told me your call sign and then told me to have you verify what it is for my own peace of mind. So what is it, Bradley? And how do you know what the ladies' restroom here looks like?

Oh, he was going to owe Penny big time. He typed away as he lay sprawled out on his bed.

My call sign is Rooster. And as for your bathroom question.... are you really going to make me answer that?

Bradley closed his eyes and thought about the girl who had taken him into the bathroom with her last year. He was pretty sure she had brown hair, but other than that, he couldn't really recall. But he did remember looking at that paper towel holder on the wall and the framed photo of an F/A-14 that was hanging over it while he was in there with her. 

He wouldn't mind taking a trip there with you, that was for sure. Or maybe you and he could skip the scandalous bar hookup and just go right to dinner or a movie. For some reason, he thought he might actually prefer that.

Pretty Girl: Be back soon. I'm getting a ride home.

Bradley mused out loud, "It better not be from Alan." Shit, he could have offered to go pick you up and make sure you got home safely. He'd only had those two beers all night, and now he was picturing some faceless guy named Alan driving you home and pawing at you.

He texted you back.

Let me know when you get home, okay? And you can always just call me.

With a sigh, he got out of bed and plugged his phone in, not sure what to expect at this point. He went back into the bathroom and used his red toothbrush. And then he went back to the living room and closed all the windows. When he was in his room again, he had no new notifications as he climbed in bed. He was about to text you again and check in when his phone rang.

CALL FROM Pretty Girl

Bradley was smiling as he answered. "Hey, Pretty Girl."

A soft laugh preceded your voice, and he had to bite the inside of his cheek as you said, "Hi, Bradley with the O positive blood. Are you trying to tell me that you were in that bar bathroom with a girl?"

He found himself laughing. "Can I plead the fifth?"

When you moaned softly, he dropped his phone onto the pillow and had to scramble to get it. "Oh, my god. Even your voice is sexy."

Okay. He should not be on the verge of touching himself after you spoke three whole sentences to him. "You make it home safely?" he asked, trying to play it cool as he thought about those photos you sent him. 

"Mmhmm. A very nice man named Alan drove me home. He's right here next to me as I get changed for bed."

Bradley thought for a beat that he had met his match in you. "You better be lying. You know what, put Alan on the phone."

Your laughter filled him up as you said, "He's not really here. I had to ditch him, because he doesn't even have a mustache. Apparently that's a deal breaker for me now?"

Holy shit. Bradley was in trouble. He was getting turned on, and you weren't even really saying anything dirty. "You're killing me. You gonna tell me your name, Pretty Girl?"

"No. I think I'm going to hold onto it a little longer."

"Fine. But please explain to me how I've never seen you at the Hard Deck before. I'm certain I would remember your face."

Your voice sounded a little softer now as you said, "I just moved to Coronado. It was my first time at the bar."

If he hadn't worked so late today, Bradley would have probably been there tonight as well. "You had fun? You think you'll go back again?"

"Probably," you replied casually. "When do you think you'll be there?"

Bradley was so warm he was starting to sweat. "Pretty Girl, you just say the word, and I'll clear my whole damn calendar."

Your little sighs and soft giggles were going to be the death of him. "You know, I still have Alan's, or rather your phone number on my hand."

He imagined himself kissing your palm and rewriting his phone number. "Should be in my handwriting. I'll make sure I always bring a pen with me to the bar."

You cleared your throat softly, and Bradley imagined you climbing into bed. "Penny told me to watch out for some of the other guys. But she said you're okay."

"Just okay?"

"Actually, she called you a big, brown eyed puppy dog."

Bradley laughed. "I've been called worse."

"I'm sure you have," you replied quickly. "You deserve some sort of punishment for daring to look good with a mustache."

"It's a blessing and a curse. Now, are you going to send me another photo? Or are you going to just agree to meet me tomorrow night?"

He heard a rustling noise and then you softly said, "Alan is not going to like this one bit." And then another photo arrived, and this one had Bradley's mouth hanging open. 

"Now it's my turn to ask if you're naked in this picture." He was taking in every inch of your exposed skin and your bedding tucked up to your collar bones. You took your makeup off for bed, and you looked cozy and intimate. And you were talking to him. You were letting him see this. Bradley had to actively think about not touching himself. 

"Totally naked."

"Fuck."

"Send me another one?"

"Yeah," he grunted, swallowing hard as he tried to pose for another selfie just how he was, sprawled out on his pillow with his left arm bent and tucked back behind his head. But his cheeks looked flushed, and his eyes looked darker than usual. He was turned on. 

Fuck it. He snapped the photo and sent it. And about ten seconds later, he was greeted with the strangled sound you made.

"It should be illegal for someone with that mustache to look so good. It's rude, honestly. Bradley, you're kind of rude, because now I want to know...."

He was hanging on your every word. "Know what, Pretty Girl?"

The call went completely silent before you said softly and sweetly, "What your mustache feels like...everywhere."

A soft, startled laugh escaped his lips. You were on the verge of some dirty talk now, he could just tell. And his cock was hard as he replied with, "I'd love to let you find out. But before you respond, I need to know how much you've had to drink tonight. I don't want to take advantage of anything here."

You whimpered on the other end of the call. "A mustache, brown eyes, and a gentleman? All Alan did for me was buy me those two Long Island iced teas."

Bradley grunted and said, "That's enough about Alan. Why don't you go ahead and tell me where you'd like to feel my mustache first, Pretty Girl."

You squeaked and said, "I want to feel it rough along my skin right below my ear while you whisper to me. Oh my god, I can't believe I said that out loud. I should just go to bed."

"Don't hang up," Bradley said, panting with need now. "Tell me more."

"Okay," you sighed with another little squeak. "I want to feel it on my lips. While I'm sitting in your lap, licking the taste of that beer you drank from your mouth."

"Holy shit," he groaned, palming himself through his boxer briefs.

"I know," you whined with need. "And I want to feel it on the back of my neck while you do filthy things to me. And I don't even know you!"

"You will," he guaranteed. "Please, tell me what time I can meet you tomorrow."

Bradley listened to the rustle of your sheets as he waited. Then you finally said, "Seven o'clock? At the Hard Deck?"

"I'll be there, Pretty Girl. I can't wait to see you."

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

It was barely even 6:30, but you were already at the bar all made up and wearing a cute dress. Penny recognized you right away, which was kind of nice and kind of embarrassing. When she asked if you wanted another Long Island, you waved her off and said, "Nothing yet. I'm meeting someone."

Her eyes lit up as she asked, "Is it Rooster?"

You'd barely slept all night, preferring to look at the four selfies he'd sent you after you ended the call around two. There was a little more dirty talk, sure, but you and he also learned a bit more about each other. And now you were going to meet this naval aviator who was originally from Virginia but loved the Los Angeles Clippers face to face. 

"Yeah. It's Rooster."

Penny looked truly delighted. "You have nothing to worry about. He's very sweet."

"Tell that to the butterflies," you muttered as you placed one hand on your stomach for a beat, willing the nerves to dissipate as you walked away. You'd told Bradley you wanted his mustache on your body. In several places. And then he told you he thought you were so pretty and fun that he wanted to kiss you everywhere. And right now you were just mystified as to how this could have possibly happened only a week after you moved to this neighborhood. And you still didn't know what happened to Alan after you went to the ladies' bathroom and saved the wrong number in your phone.

You laughed when you thought about it, and then you ran your hands along the fabric of your dress. You were so antsy, your palms were sweaty. You looked down at yourself and just got more nervous. Bradley hadn't seen much of your body in the photos you'd sent to him. You'd seen plenty of his though, and he looked tall and muscular even next to his damn refrigerator. And his face was gorgeous, right down to that sinful looking mustache. 

And you were just... you. Alan was really more your speed with his nerdy glasses and messy hairstyle and his lack of ability to even grow any sort of facial hair at all. You just hoped that Bradley wouldn't take one look at you in person and walk right back out of the bar. 

You were about to tell Penny that you thought you needed a drink after all when the door caught your eye, and Bradley strolled into the bar like he owned the place. "Oh...fuck," you whispered, gaping at him as he ran his fingers through his hair. The photos hadn't even done him justice. He had to be over six feet tall, and he was so broad and muscular, he looked like he could pick you up and toss you around a little bit. "Shit." He was wearing some snug fitting jeans and a tropical print shirt like he just knew he could pull off the most ridiculous look. "Damn." He was glancing around, trying to find you while you started scouring the room unsuccessfully for another exit. 

You were trapped in here, and he was walking further into the bar now. And you didn't think you could hide halfway behind this couple who was making out for very much longer.  

As Bradley's eyes scanned the crowd again, he looked a little apprehensive. His brow was scrunched, and he checked the time on his watch. You knew it was almost seven. So you took a deep breath and let it out slowly, and then you scooted one step to your left. When his gaze came your way again, his eyes landed on you. And then his face softened. The apprehension melted away, and he smiled a cute and somehow sexy little grin that made you whimper.

Now he was heading your way, his gait sure and steady. And then he was just a few feet away and you could see the scars on his face that you'd studied all night in the photos. And you could see the flecks of gold in his eyes that somehow the selfies didn't capture. And then he was talking, and his voice was even better in person.

"Pretty Girl."

Okay, so he'd seen you up close, and he wasn't running away. That had to be a good sign, right? You managed to say just one slightly breathless word. "Hi." And then his smile grew, and he was closing the space between your body and his. He was reaching for your face and running one rough thumb along your cheek. And then he kissed you.

And the soft scrape of his mustache was even better than all of the ways you'd spent your night imagining it might feel. You couldn't help but return his kiss, and somehow your hands ended up pressed to the front of him, sliding up to his chest. 

When he broke the kiss, he stayed close, his lips not far from your face. He covered your hands with his, keeping them on his body. And then he leaned close to your ear, his mustache scraping along your soft skin there as he whispered, "Tell me your name, Pretty Girl. I'm dying here."

Soft laughter bubbled out of you as he pulled away from you a bit, and those butterflies were going wild. His eyes were fixed on your face, begging for an answer this time as he stroked your hands with his thumbs. And then you told him, and he tried your name out on his tongue a few times with that grin that you liked so much. He kept saying it softly until you kissed him this time, and then he guided your arms around his neck. 

"Listen," he said in that raspy voice that you'd love to focus on all night. "I have no problem staying here for a while if you want to. I bet you could even persuade me to join you in the ladies' room."

"Sounds tempting," you told him with a smirk.

"It really does. But we could also just ditch the bar and grab dinner instead? Maybe watch the Clippers game and have a drink at my place? I'm a little worried Alan might show up here and try to lure you away, if I'm being honest."

You practically snorted with laughter. "I can't even really remember what Alan looks like. He was totally gone from my mind after the first selfie you sent me. Let's get out of here."

He took you by the hand. "Anything you want, Pretty Girl."

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

I love dreamy loverboy Bradley, and I love Pretty Girl too. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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THIS IS SOOOOO HEARTBREAKINGLY GOOD!!

We're on this together. (Chapter 1)

Bradley Bradshaw × Fem!Wife!Reader

Summary: Nobody warned you for how hard it is to become a mother,same for Bradley.

TW: infertility,mentions of miscarrige,mentions of hospital,mentions of getting pregnant,mentiones of ivf. Mostly angst.

Tears were streaming down your face,your hands were trembling. Searching for Bradley's number in your contact list has never been this difficult.

Your fingers slid across parts of the screen you didn't want to touch, making your frustration even worse.

The phone line rang at a deafening volume. Once, twice, three times until it goes to voicemail.

His stupid voicemail.

"Hi,its me Bradley. Please drop your message!"

Taking this as a sign, you chose not to try again.

After all, talking to Bradley about it right now would only make him worry for nothing, considering he was busy on deployment and miles away from you. He was about to return this week.

It wasn't something he could solve. Maybe it was but not right now.

Within a few minutes your phone rang. As his name popped up on the screen, a heart emoji next to it and his photo of him grinning stupidly, you felt terrible for doing this to him.

Not only did you let down your own dreams, you were about to let down his too.

You replied, remaining silent. You expected your voice to sound like a lump in your throat.

"Baby, are you there? I couldn't get to the phone in time at first."

You were motionless, your lack of words showed him that. "I'm fine", giving yourself some time, you suddenly started to feel everything you didn't feel until you got home.

"I was at the doctor's today."

"Why are you talking like it's the end of the world? Are you okay?"

Throughout his breathing, it was easy to imagine him even stopping whatever he was doing to pay better attention to you; Not because it wasn't there before. You should have called Penny or someone, they would know how to take care of you.

"Wait, is it about babies? Tell me you're joking," he finished with a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. You could imagine and hear it perfectly.

In the past, when you received good news, you would pretend that something bad was coming, now it's just another thing you regret doing.

You were selfish for talking to him, he was so far away; You could talk to him about it when he got home.

Talking and doing this and that now would cause him more anxiety than he ever had in his hectic daily tour life. Still, he was the only one you needed.

"No, quite the opposite."

The call suffered a long pause, filled with his deep sighs and persistent tears streaming down his cheeks.

You didn't let a single tear fall until you got home, but did you verbalize it? Putting it into words made things different; it felt more real.

"Fuck," he mumbled, clearly a little out of place.

“I can't have kids, Bradley,” your words were interrupted by the growl you were trying to hold back.

He could tell when you were talking to him that everything hit you at once. Over the years, he was able to recognize even small details.

''I'm the reason we tried and it never worked. I cursed it."

"No, baby," he took a deep breath. "Please don't blame yourself. You know it's not your fault." You ran your fingers desperately through your hair; This is what it must be like to feel useless on the phone. Just what you imagined before you made the call. It was bad to announce this to him. "Are you alone? I can ask someone to check on you. They’ll do that, okay?

“Please,” You didn't want to spend the rest of the day by yourself. Also, even though you didn't want to talk to anyone but Bradley, you knew Penny would understand you better, she knew how to make you feel less bad, it would be nice to be around her. And once she mentioned she went through something like that so maybe she would understand you.

Being alone with your harsh thoughts will not be a good option anyway. "I thought about calling her, but I finally gave up, I didn't know what to do, I still don't. Calling you still doesn't seem like a good idea, but I didn't know what to do."

Your weak voice was killing Bradley. If it made him sad to hear that, he couldn't imagine what it was like for you.

"You did great, baby, this is a tough situation but we're on this journey together. You can ask for anything baby, remember?" He smiled, a muffled smile came over the line; It made you feel a little better.

"We can still have children, you know that."

You wanted to tell him that what works for others may not work for you, that your condition may not be that malleable because your condition is genetic. Still, you didn't know if they were true or not, all your thoughts might just be the result of your momentary frustration, but they might also be true.

You need to talk to Bradley about this, everything that's going on in his mind. You didn't want to do this over the phone anymore.

“We can try,” you sniffled, still avoiding the tears you didn't even know were falling. "We can try." You repeated, trying to convince yourself.

"Talk to me, baby. Try to distract yourself a bit, huh? Please. Do you want me to turn the call off? Maybe you can take a long bath with your favorite bubbles or eat something different. That might help."

Even though it sounded wrong, his desperation to help you was adorable. Talking to him made everything perfect, his voice was soothing, you could hear him talking for hours. Now it was no different.

“I just want to hear your voice,” you said, lying on the cold floor of the main room. It would be nice to sleep. It seemed reasonable to forget the previous hours for a few minutes. "You are busy?"

"Not exactly."

"Then tell me how the mission went."

His voice sounded flatter and softer, you could imagine how uneasy he was even from the phone, it was possible to imagine him striding around the room with the phone in his hand. He talked about the mission details the night before. The contrast of how you described your previous day with what happened at the right moment was painful, happy and suddenly you were breaking it.

Everyone knew that Bradley dreamed of having kids, that kids were running around the house and so were you, you wanted to have kids with him even more but with you he would never have one.

"Can I say something?" You asked, taking a deep breath,cutting through his words. "I love you,I love you so much."

Everything was unfair, you both tried so hard. He, too, had become weak from trying, just like you.

"I love you too, baby. This," you could see him in your mind, pausing and gesturing with his hands, "this won't change anything,okay? I still love you so much as the day i fell in love with you."

"We are on this journey together."

"We are on this journey together.”

—-----

Your body trembled.

A cold hand was wandering around your waist as you slowly opened your eyes, feeling a ridiculous headache fill your vision. Your eyes found Bradley crouched on the ground in front of you, and he looked good compared to you. His eye bags were not purple from the 4 hour sleep he was getting,or his hair wasn't messy after the cold,rainy and windy weather out there.

"What are you doing here?" You frowned. Bradley chuckled as you laid your head down once the headache made you feel like you were going to throw up. He could answer your question but you were flattered, he wouldn't think you noticed he was there because he knew you needed him.

So he ignored it, helping you get up.

"Come on, get up. It's cold on the floor, I'll put you to bed." He tried to get you to stand up for him - he failed; but you shifted your weight onto his body, wrapping your arms around his neck, which he found worriedly cute.

“I need you,” you whispered, drunk and sleepy, burying your face in his coat. Let its scent warm you. He smelled amazing.

It was a relief to hear him say that. He didn't want to get into an argument about how it would affect his job in the near future, as you had fought before for the same reason. "I know my baby." He kissed your hair, hugged your waist, and carried you to your room. “She wants to lay down with me.”

He laid you down on the bed, doing the same as he lay on your side, face up and facing the white ceiling.

They both knew it was necessary to speak, but neither knew who should speak first or what they should speak about.

You ran your fingers over his stomach, placing your palm under his shirt, warming his cold hand with your body. You moved closer to his body, nestling into his side as he wrapped his arm around you.

"Tell me, what's on your mind?" He said without looking directly at you.

"There's a lot", your mere words made his throat dry. “It's weird knowing your body can't do what it's supposed to do, especially when you want it to,” you gasped through sobs, his grip pulling you closer to his chest for comfort. "I'm afraid you'll stay with me and a few years from now you'll realize you made the wrong choice." These words hurt him. It hurt him so much to see you blaming yourself.

He hugged you even tighter and asked you to look at him. "I'm not going to leave you, okay? I'm in love with you. That won't change, and it's not your fault. We can try IVF as if it will work, and it's worked for a few people, and we'll have a happy and healthy baby. We have the money for it. If the money I make as a pilot isn't enough, i can even find a part-time job. I can enter just for you, I'm married to you and I love you so much, why should I leave you?"

There were tears in your eyes and you hoped he was right. "What if it doesn't work? If my body miscarries? If we try and never succeed? I don't know if I'm ready to try again-"

Before you finished your sentence, he grabbed your cheek and gave you a messy kiss. He was far from okay, he was desperate, you didn't know how to decipher whether he was trying to silence you or show his emotions. The salty taste of your tears accompanied by the burning in his throat didn't help at all.

You put your hand on his chest and stop him. He was in distress, he probably wanted to stop you with a waterfall of negative thoughts but he didn't know how.

“I don't want to try, I just don't know what to do yet, and it's killing me right now.” You were complaining.

He kissed your forehead and let you lie down.

"We will find a way. It's still new, we can think better or find other ways. Adoption is also a good option, but of course if everything happens at the right time."

You stayed silent for a while, imagining a parallel where Bradley was right and things worked out. Although you were still not convinced by this, you agreed with him. After all, there would be no other way, and you still wanted to have children.

“Adoption sounds good,” you mumbled against his chest. You hadn't thought about it yet, it hadn't even crossed your mind. “There is no risk and there is no way we can go wrong.”

You felt relieved that he was there for you, guiding you to feel better about this.

"You see?" he asked with what looked like a weak smile. "We'll find a way because I don't plan on having kids with anyone but you, so it has to be with you. Whether you like it or not." He joked, drawing a smile from you as he touched your nose with a wet kiss.

It was incredible how he managed to make even the most difficult moments seem lighter.

"Good, because I still want to have your stupid kids.”

I'm tagging people who might be interested:@ohtobeleah @sebsxphia @callsigns-haze @sorchathered @greenorangevioletgrass @teacupsandtopgun @roosterforme @floydsglasses @lyn-js @bradshawssugarbaby @torchflies @its-dee-lovely @its-the-pilot @friedchips94 @bradshawsbaby @hardballoonlove @perfectprettypisces @topguncortez @hangmanapologist @bradshawsbaddie @shanimallina87 @djs8891 @themusingofagothicsoul @promisingyounglady @the-romanian-is-bae @mamachasesmayhem @jessicab1991 @iefitzgerald-blog @charcole-grey @waterriseslew @desert-fern @promisingyounglady @lewmagoo and if you are not comfortable please tell me!!

REBLOGS,LIKES AND COMMENTS ARE HIGLY APPERICATED🤍🤍🤍

Getting to hear bradley’s feelings is amazing, a lot of writers only focus on the readers pov!!!

this was soul crushing

We're on this together...(Chapter III):

Bradley Bradshaw x Fem!Wife!Reader

Summary: Sometimes life can get rough but no matter how often and how much people hurt eachother,loving someone is never a waste.

Warnings: MAJOR SMUT (MDI), infertility,mentions of miscarrige,mentions of hospital,mentions of getting pregnant,mentiones of ivf.Use of alcohol,arguing,use of bad languange. Mostly angst.

February 14 2022.

"Roo, don't stop."

Bradley speeds up his body, hiding his face in his wife's neck, where he makes sure to leave purple marks and bites as you wrap your arms around his shoulders and cling to him, wrapping your legs around his waist.

He's touching your weak spot and he knows it, grinding himself against you every time he moves forward, causing you to let out little moans and arch your back, digging your nails into his skin.

Bradley didn't stop, ignoring the ache in his muscles. His endurance was better than a normal person, for God's sake, because he was a military pilot, but this "love making" had become painful, boring and no longer felt special for him.

He definitely missed the times when you both were younger and he could go for hours without getting tired, but he wouldn't trade his gift for anything, when he finally married the love of his life he had grown old like everyone else, they weren't those horny college kids anymore. But sometimes he still wishes they were.

His wet kisses against your jaw distracted you, ypu let out a moan from your throat and felt your orgasm getting closer and closer.

He moved his head down to kiss and lick your breasts, and you buried a hand in his hair, tugging at the strands. He kisses above your heart like he always does.

It's late at night, everywhere is quiet and only the sound of their bodies can be heard, they are completely intimate, silent but telling each other everything.

"I'm so close..." After a while he mumbled quietly, his voice hoarse. "Baby."

With that sound, you tightened around him with a reflex you can't control.

When it comes to Bradley, his whole body responds. “I'm close too, fuck.” He said, leaving kisses on your cheeks.

"Please, fill me up,baby."

And with that, Bradley cums inside you.

It's short, but it takes your breath away and pleasure fills your body in the way only his body does. Your juices paint his walls white and it doesn't take long for him to cum too.

You cling to him, you don't want to let go, so you kiss his face and breathe deeply.

Close to three minutes pass and he pulls away from your body to talk, but you're already asleep.

It's the fifth time they've done it in a week and it's only Thursday, he thinks about the last time they made love this long and this often.

And he didn't know if it was because he was desperate for your touch or because he just wanted to have a baby, but he missed talking to you.

Bradley misses you.

He is missing his one and only wife.

March 12 2022.

As you finished throwing two negative test in the trash, you receive a call from Blake ,Jake's wife. You pick up the phone while passing by your empty bedroom.

“Hello, Y/N?” Your friend's voice rings out.

"Hello." You replie, unable to fake a happiness that isn't there anymore.

"How are you sweetheart?" She asks and you are in your classic voice when you say 'I'm fine'.

"Is Rooster with you?"

You looked away from your laptop when you heard her question. "I thought he was with Jake?"

"Mhm, no. And he's not returning our calls either. Jake and Nat has called him multiple times,they were going to ask him if he wanted to come to Hard Deck."

That's when you started to worry and after a quick goodbye, you hung up the phone.

It's eleven o'clock at night, where is he?

The door opens just in time and you quickly walked towards Bradley, who placed his keys, jacket, and shoes on the shelf without looking at you.

"Blake called, where were you?" You ask, crossing your arms.

“I don't want to argue right now, Y/N.” he mutters, moving past you towards the kitchen, opening the fridge and drinking a bottle of beer under your gaze.

"Who said we were going to argue?" Your sarcastic laughter echoes in the room. "I just want to know where my husband was."

"I was at Javy's, God, calm down." Bradley replies, fed up with your behavior, and you look at him confused. You stood in front of him.

"'Calm down?'"

He lowers his head and frowns. "Yeah, you've been... insanely sad lately."

You laugh in disbelief, feeling the anger gnawing at your body.

"Maybe I'm not upset, maybe you're too calm."

Bradley doesn't even look at you and walks towards the home office, but you,his wife, follow in his footsteps, looking for answers.

“What am i so calm about, Y/N?” He asks with his back to you and pulls out notes from his notebook to start writing. "My job is very stressful these days, I don't know whether I will go to deployment tomorrow or in a month, and I don't want to leave you alone in this situation. I'm not calm at all."

“Even though we've been trying to have a baby for months,almost a year without success, you seem pretty calm, like you – don't mind.”

The empty bottle falls onto the table with a hard clatter and you slowly turn to look into his eyes. His face is serious and you can see that his dark hazel eyes are dark and slightly watery.

You're both hurting when it comes to the baby.

"Do you seriously think I don't care?" He slowly walks towards you and you swallows dryly, knowing you touched a soft spot for him. For both of you. "This is destroying us and you know it."

"Don't say that, nothing can destroy us." You interrupt him by grabbing his hand, you feel your eyes aee getting watery and your throat is feeling hurt, but Bradley lets it go.

"These last few months- I..." You wrinkled your nose, feeling the tears forming in your eyes.

“I've been nothing but a sex toy to you, all i do is fuck you to get something, we don't talk anymore, we don't cuddle anymore, it's like I married a ghost. I miss you and you don't realise that. I just don't know what you want from but i am so tired and sick of it."

“Bradley…-” You whispered in surprise. Not expecting any of this.

“I want everything back to the way it was before, I want my best friend, my wife,my everything, my soul back. It feels like we're only going backwards and you don't love me anymore." One single tear drop is falling from his eyes to his now reddish cheek.

You stutter, bursting into tears in front of him and closing your eyes, allowing the yourself to cry against his chest to hug him.

You both hold each other tightly and let go after holding on for a long time.

Bradley was having a terrible time too, and you didn't notice because you were too busy trying to make your "dream" come true.

"I'm sorry,baby. I love you." You hold his cheeks to look into his eyes and nods as the tears continue to flow. "Baby, what I did was so selfish."

"It's okay,my love. It's kind of funny how short our arguments are." He smiles, caressing you soft cheek and kissing the tip of your nose. "Just...promise me something."

"Everything." You respond immediately.

"We'll see a doctor."

Oh god.... I love him and i think she is too🥹🥲

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 @promisingyounglady @els-marvelvsp if you are not comfortable please tell me!!

AHHHHHHHH

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

Bradley Bradshaw x Fem!Wife!Reader

Summary: Stupid kids.

Little note: Carol and Nick is still alive.

Warnings: Infertility,mentions of miscarrige,mentions of hospital,mentions of getting pregnant,mentiones of ivf.Use of alcohol,arguing,use of bad languange. Not so angsty anymore🥹

July 22, 2022:

It was almost six weeks later that Bradley became suspicious.

They both hadn’t spent much time together since the last time, and he wanted to make up for lost time with his wife. So he decided to take a day off and make breakfast while you were still in bed.

He whistles as he makes the pancakes, turning around every now and then to check the coffee on the stove the way you like it. He puts the missing dishes on the tray, completing the breakfast you’ve been making for years; maple syrup, coffee, pancakes, hash browns, and toast.

He jots down the note, “I’ll always love you :).”

He hears you coming down the stairs and mentally prides himself on his perfect timing, quickly organizing everything and turning toward the door frame that separates the kitchen from the living room.

You enter the scene as he scratches his tangled nest of hair and tries to adjust the pj's that have been tossing and turning throughout the night, his face is imprinted with pillows and Bradley feels like he’s going to faint from how beautiful his wife is.

“Good morning, my love.”

“Hm.” You just smile, you don’t like talking to anyone when you’re barely awake and he knows that so he doesn’t force you.

You open your eyes and stop in your tracks when you see your breakfast, looking at your husband with a small smile and a blush on his face.

“Oh, Bradley!”

“It’s been a long time since we had breakfast together.” He mutters and you settle between his legs (you sat down so you could eat with him) and walk over to him to take his face in your hands, placing small kisses on his sparsely stubbled face and lips.

You sit down and the two of you start eating, chatting from time to time.

He looked proud of himself as he watched you eat pancakes with maple syrup, but you tasted the coffee and spit it back into the cup.

"Hey! Why did you do that?" He asks you with a hurt expression on his face.

"I'm sorry honey, but it tastes awful." 

You reply with a grimace as you pour yourself a glass of apple juice to drink it all down.

Bradley takes your coffee from you and takes a sip; it tastes perfectly normal, very good if he has to admit, but he decides to leave you alone and let you continue with a glass of apple juice.

You were happily continuing to eat, of course, until you popped a small piece of egg yolk into your mouth.

Bradley doesn’t have time to complain when you’re throwing up in the sink anyway.

He quickly drops his coffee and walks over to you, grabbing your hair and patting your back until you pull yourself together, wiping your face with the sleeve of his shirt as he looks at you.

“I don’t feel so good.” You mumbled with a pout that made Bradley’s heart ache.

“It’s okay, honey.” He pulls you into his chest. “Why don’t you lie down? I’ll put everything aside and join you as soon as I can.”

You nod and look into his eyes. “I’m sorry I messed this up.”

He smiles sadly as he brushes his sweaty hair from his forehead. “You didn’t mess anything up, to be honest, I was really looking forward to staying in bed with you.”

You leave and ten minutes pass while Bradley gets breakfast, maybe saving it for later. He’s washing the cups when he notices something while one of them drying in the sink.

He picks up his phone with his half-dried hands and opens the conversation he had with his mother a week ago.

"Everything is fine honey. Your cousin is pregnant and can't handle eggs and coffee so we're taking care of her now. Kisses, honey, I love you and Y/N!! 💕💞😘"

Eggs and coffee.

Eggs.

Coffee.

He grips the marble countertop as he tries to catch his breath.

Could it be..?

God, he's going to faint at the thought.

He couldn’t believe he had such a good memory to remember such a mundane message between his mother and him.

You run your hand over your face as you trie to come back to reality if she’s pregnant…or not..

Damn it, you can’t think straight, and if it wasn’t for Duke jumping on the counter and barking in your face, then you’d still be going crazy.

You turn off the faucet and run upstairs, ignoring Bradley's fuzzy nerves as he enters your shared bedroom, you stare at him in fear.

“Take a pregnancy test.” That’s all he says, and you get out of bed in confusion.

“What?” You ask, approaching him. “Are you okay? You look pale.” You cup his face.

“Yeah, yeah.” He responds excitedly, letting you examine his face.

“Just, please, you have to.”

“Okay, I’ll do it and you’ll calm down.” He looks into your eyes and nods. “Come on.”

Bradley can barely control himself as you pee on four sticks to make sure, wandering the bathroom and bedroom until you come out.

“We need to wait five minutes, do you want to explain what’s going on?”

You both sit on the bed and hold his hands to comfort him, which does the trick.

“You’re going to think I’m crazy, but do you remember when my mom told me Marienne was pregnant and couldn’t stand eggs nor coffee?”

“Yeah.” You answer, and your eyes widen in understanding. “Oh my god. What do you think..”

“I don’t know.” Bradley shakes his head, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. “I don’t know.”

The minutes pass and the both of you gets crazier and crazier; You feel like you're going to tear your hair out in desperation, and Bradley wants to throw up again for the tenth time as he playes with his rings.

There has to be something else, he doesn’t even know how to take care of babies, was it his paternal instinct? no, this is stupid, maybe he’s not going to be a father and he’s just going crazy.

He’s an idiot, now your hopes are up and he doesn't want to have to see the look of disappointment on your perfect face again.

So lost in his thoughts that he doesn't notice you get up from behind him to re-enter the bathroom, slowly reappearing with four tests in your hands, unable to take your eyes off them as you mumble;

“Positive.”

Bradley raised his head as soon as he heard you, his eyes met your now teary ones and he stood up, approaching you, ypu are showing him all the positive lines that showed your baby growing inside you. His fucking wife is pregnant.

You put them down and throw yourself into your husband's arms, clinging to each other, making you both fall backwards onto the bed.

You cry into Bradley's chest while he cries into yours.

You feel like you're going to faint from the tears and sobs pouring out of both of your bodies, a tremendous happiness fills your entire body as millions of things go through your head. Same for him too.

Bradley talks to pregnant women's bellies, Bradley holds a small chubby baby, Bradley plays the piano with a small child, Bradley rocks a baby, Bradley and your babies will be like this.

Sooner or later, it would all come true.

Meanwhile, Bradley is still crying as if he's never cried in his life, you're sitting with him in your arms and he moves his hands between them to rest on your belly. "There's a baby inside," he says, his voice breaking.

You laugh and lean your forehead against his. "There's a baby inside."

Both of you look at each other, your eyes fill with tears and you both start laughing, you kiss, ignoring the salty taste of teardrops. You kiss, trying to convey everything that cannot be expressed in words to each other, but now there is someone who proves that their love is possible.

"A perfect blend of us,there it is." Bradley's and yours belly felt like there were fireworks inside. He can't wait to sing and play the piano to his love's growing belly, to hold that tiny hand.

He just can't wait.

"I love you." He sees the tears continue to flow down your cheeks as you part your lips. "I love you Bradley, we did it."

"We did it." He repeats, squeezing your waist between his hands. "We did it, we're having a baby, I told you."

"I can't believe you found out because I threw up your breakfast."

"Because you would never throw up something I make, I'm an incredible chef."

Both laugh again and Bradley flips both of you over, laying you between him and the bed, laughing at the kisses he spreads across your face, neck, and lifting the robe slightly to reveal the soft skin of your belly. 

It was keeping his baby warm in there.

Duke seems to notice the happiness that is coming from the room, he climbs into bed and cuddles up to his mother’s chest, who is happily caressing Bradley's hair and cheeck's.

Bradley kisses the area on your belly as you stroke Duke's scalp, and his tears continue to flow when he sees you talking to Duke about the baby.

He whispers something, but you and maybe someone else can hear him clearly.

“Welcome home, baby. You are already loved.”

“Yeah, I always wanted to have your stupid children.”

THEY MADE IT🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

I'm tagging people who might be interested:@ohtobeleah @sebsxphia @callsign-fox @greenorangevioletgrass @roosterforme @teacupsandtopgun @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 @atarmychick007 if you are not comfortable please tell me!!

THIS IS AMAZING!! I ABSOLUTELY LOVE HANK!!

A Little Bit Stronger

Part 1

Bradley Rooster Bradshaw x OFC/You

Summary:

Fear is the only thing Shae Williams feels after years of abuse at the hands of her ex-husband. After an encounter where he nearly takes her life, she’s finally free of him…until he finds out where she’s staying. Fear forces her to take the help of the only person who’s offered and is introduced to Bradley Bradshaw in the process.

The last thing Shae needs right now is a relationship and the fact that Bradley understands and respects her wishes makes him that much harder to resist.

Warnings: Just like everything else / write/post: this story is for 18+ only. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. It will contain smut, adult themes, situations and language. Please also note this story may be triggering due to the topic of domestic abuse (physical, emotional, sexual) violence-feel free to message me with any questions before reading.

*This is the Bradley from All of Me (Jake and Reese’s story). You should be able to be read as a stand-alone but it doesn’t hurt to start there.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

2 months prior.

“Why don’t you stay here for a few minutes,” Chad sneers, pushing his seed back inside you that’s beginning to leak out. He’s not gentle; it hurts, causing tears to prick at your eyes, but you refuse to wince, “give my swimmers a few extra minutes to find that egg,” he laughs.

They won’t. The Depo injection you got a few weeks ago at Planned Parenthood after Chad had found your hidden birth control pills will prevent that. It would be a cold day in hell before you brought an innocent child into this mess. The bruises from that beating were nearly healed now.

“Okay,” you reply, cold and numb.

“Dinner reservations are at tonight 6, so I’ll be here at 5:30 to pick you up,” Chad says from the bathroom as he starts the shower, “wear that black dress with the low back I like.”

“I will,” you lie.

If all goes to plan, you’ll be a few hours away by then, where he can’t find you.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

You get up as soon as he leaves, wanting nothing more than to get out of this hellhole but needing to wash the evidence of his abuse off of your body.

Your heart is pounding as you pull your suitcases out from the bottom of your closet, already packed and ready to go. Your sweaty hands tremble, barely able to pick up your last-minute supplies to toss them in a tote.

You lift the mattress and reach under where you made a slit, locating the cash you’ve been hiding there and pulling it out before packing it too.

With that cash and the money you transferred into a secret account when you had been working, you should be set until you find a job.

You set your phone on the kitchen table and take a slow, deep breath before walking towards the door.

The handle turns as you reach out to open it; your stomach does too.

“I’m so fucking glad I installed those cameras last week when you were at Pilates,” Chad chuckles darkly as you drop the suitcase, backing away in terror.

He grabs your ponytail when you turn to run, and you cry out loudly at the burning pain in your scalp as he yanks you back. “You’re not going anywhere. Not today, not tomorrow, not ever,” he seethes in your ear. Your stomach rolls in disgust as you can feel him hard against your ass; he’s getting off on this. “You belong to me.”

He pushes you into the table by the door, causing the flower vase atop it to fall and shatter.

“Stupid, ungrateful bitch,” he seethes, stepping over the mess before kicking your hunched form in the ribs, stealing the breath in your lungs from the sharp, searing pain as you land on the hardwood.

It only takes two steps before he’s on you again, gripping your shoulder and turning you to face him. His eyes are full of rage, his pupils dilated from the line he snorted in the car as he spits, “I thought you’d finally learned after the birth control incident. I should’ve known…”

Your head whips to the side and you taste blood when he backhands you, splitting your lip.

You can’t catch your bearings as you try to appease him with an apology; pain radiating from your cheek and there’s a deafening, high-pitched ringing in your ears, “I’m sorry Chad, let me explain-“

Pain explodes in the left side of your face a second later as he punches you as hard as he can before the world goes dark.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

“Shae?” says a familiar voice, sounding so far away. “Shae, honey, wake up.”

Your right eye slowly blinks open to the bright fluorescent lights; the left is swollen shut and pulsing painfully. The beeping of the heart monitor increases and the pain in your ribs makes itself known as everything comes rushing back.

The police officers arriving, the EMTs putting you on the stretcher, the chilling look in his eyes as you were rolled past, the favorite doctor you worked for giving you a sedative when you arrived in her ER panicking.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Dr. Akins murmurs, putting her hand on yours, “he’s not here, he can’t hurt you.”

You slowly nod. “Where,” you croak, tongue feeling like sandpaper, “where is he?”

“Sitting in jail,” she replies.

“But-“

“For 24 hours,” she assures you, “even with his connections, he won’t be getting out early.”

You nod, still a little dazed and disoriented as you take a drink of the water she offers. “Thank you.”

“He’s why you quit, huh?” Dr. Akins asks. Not judging, just observant.

You nod again.

“What happened? Today I mean,” she clarifies.

“I was leaving,” you whisper, wincing when you look down from the pain in your eye from the movement. “He came home.”

“How did he know? Did you tell anyone?” She asks gently.

“No,” you reply, “not a soul. He said something about installing cameras last week.”

“That’s not legal in the state of California, Shae,” she says softly, stroking her thumb over your hand, “neither is beating your wife half to death.”

You nod once again, gasping from the pain in your ribs when you sit up, “I’ve gotta get out of here before he’s released.”

“Where will you go?” She asks.

“I’m going to rent an Airbnb in San Diego,” you wince as you try to smile, quickly reminded of the split in your lip, “My parents met there when my dad was in the Navy. I visited after college and fell in love. It was the first place that came to mind the…” you trail off.

“The what?”

“The last time this happened,” you whisper, “he found out I was secretly taking birth control since we started trying for a baby…he thought being a family man would help him get a promotion at work…as if that canceled out the alcoholism, drug use, and anger problems.”

“Oh Shae,” she replies. Your eyes fill as you look away when you hear the tears heavy in her voice.

She stands and gently wraps you in a hug, letting you cry for the next few minutes. She hands you a tissue before taking one for herself.

“So…you’ve got an orbital fracture that thankfully doesn’t need surgery, no concussion but you’re gonna have a helluva headache, 3 broken ribs, a split lip, and a few other bumps and bruises,” she says finally, not sugar coating it.

You close your eyes, knowing they’ll want to keep you overnight for another observation.

“There’s two officers from Sacramento PD waiting to talk with you,” she continues, “but I’ll get you discharged when they’re done. As a nurse, I trust you know what signs and symptoms to watch for?”

You open your eyes and nod, “Thank you.”

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

You’re tight-lipped during the conversation with the officers with the entire police department in Chad’s back pocket.

You do ask for a restraining order, knowing it’s just a piece of paper, but it gives you a little peace of mind. You don’t press any further charges either; nothing will come of the ones already existing and you refuse to add fuel to his fire.

“Here’s your discharge papers,” Dr. Akins hands you the stapled stack after they leave, “and a little something from a few of the doctors here. We haven’t forgotten you, Shae.”

“Dr. Akins, you-“ you start but she interrupts.

“Just be safe, okay? My number is in there too, please let me know when you’re settled.”

“Okay,” you whisper, ignoring the shooting pain in your ribs as you pull her in for a final hug, “thank you.”

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

You try not to, but you can’t help but cry when you open the envelope in the Uber that Dr. Akins ordered. A letters of recommendation from her and two other doctors you worked with also, and enough bills to make you feel light-headed.

“Here’s fine,” you tell the driver when he pulls onto your street and is a few houses from yours.

You feel paranoid, but knowing Chad, he’ll check the Ring as soon as he gets released. If he sees a man brought you home, you wouldn’t put it past him to look up the license plate and have his cronies at the police station pull him over; it doesn’t matter that it’s just the man’s job.

“You sure?” He looks skeptically over his shoulder at you.

“Yeah,” you sigh when you try again to smile, tasting blood again when you open the cut in your bottom lip, “thanks.”

Ed, your sweet old neighbor, comes running when he spots you gingerly getting out of the car. “Shae!” He cries when he reaches you, placing his hands on your shoulders, afraid to hurt you, “oh your beautiful eye,” he whispers, tears filling his eyes as he scans your face. “I happened to see him come home, and I knew he wasn’t happy the way he slammed his car door. I’m sorry I called 911, but I heard you yell and then a crash.”

“It’s okay,” you begin to cry too, hating how distressed he is. You’d had quickly befriended him and his wife, Jean, when you moved in. They reminded you so much of your late parents and that’s exactly why Chad put an end to the relationship. “I’m glad you did, Ed.”

“I’m so sorry about Jean,” you continue, guilt overwhelming you. “I wanted to go to the funeral so badly.”

She had passed away nearly a year ago from cancer. You earned a slap across the face when you asked Chad to go to her funeral.

“It’s okay, honey. She knew you loved her and she loved you too,” he replies, pulling you in for the most gentle, tender hug.

The gesture breaks the dam inside you and you begin to sob; body-shaking, from-the-soul sobs.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

“Come inside,” Ed asks when you finally relax, “Just for a minute. I’ve got a slice of apple pie with your name on it. You’ve gotten too thin.”

“Okay,” you whisper, letting him take your hand.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

“Do you have my number in your new phone?” Ed asks by his front door after he feeds you not one, but two pieces of his homemade pie. It was your favorite and yet another thing Chad didn’t let you have.

You insist Ed stays home while you get your suitcases, not knowing the whereabouts of Chad’s cameras. The last thing you want is someone else getting hurt, especially Ed.

You nod, “It was the first number I put it, I still have it memorized. Promise you’ll come to see me when things settle?”

If they ever settle. Your heart sinks with the thought that this mess will never stop; not until he’s in prison or one of you ends up dead.

“I will,” he kisses your forehead, and hands you an envelope from his pocket, “here honey, take this.”

“Ed, no. I can’t,” you argue, eyes widening as you feel the wad of cash inside, “Really, I’ll be okay. I’ve been planning this for a while.”

“It was Jean’s idea,” he smiles sadly, “she knew you’d get out someday and we both wanted you to have a cushion.”

“Ed,” your voice breaks and you start to cry again. Your head was pounding, your ribs screamed with every breath and you were getting more anxious as more time passed.

“Take it and use it,” he says, putting his hand in his pocket so you can’t hand it back, “hire a lawyer, get that dog you always wanted, take a nice vacation, whatever you want, honey. Besides, he can’t track cash like he can a card.”

That thought crossed your mind too before you finally nod. “Thank you,” you whisper, giving him a final hug and heading back to your former home.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

You step over the drips of your blood and avoid the dead flowers and broken glass, feeling nauseous from anxiety and the pain pulsing through your body when you pick up your discarded bag and right your suitcases.

Your lip still quirks in satisfaction when the wheels of your suitcase drag the sharp pieces of glass over the floor, scratching the hell out of the hardwood he loves.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

Ed watches from his front door as you struggle to get your suitcases in the back, but you discreetly shake your head when he opens the door to help. Chad is going to take his anger out somewhere, and you don’t want to make Ed more of a target.

You suppress your groan as you lift the floorboard in the trunk to find your secret cell phone hidden by the spare tire and turn it on after plugging it in while you fasten your seatbelt.

After typing in the address into GPS, you take a deep breath and pull out of the driveway, waving goodbye to Ed and starting your new life.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

A few weeks later (current day).

“Friday at 11,” you confirm, “I’ll be there, thank you again,” you say before hanging up with the recruiter.

You smile softly; things are looking up. You have an interview scheduled for a nursing position with a general practitioner at the Naval Base, you secured a nice apartment that’ll be ready to move into in a few weeks and Chad would be served with divorce papers any day now.

With the money you saved, the generous gift from the doctors you worked with at the ER, and the downright obscene amount from Ed and Jean, you didn’t need to rush into finding a job. So you had taken a few weeks to find an apartment and hit the beach while you healed; physically at least.

Emotionally though, you were struggling. Most nights you woke up soaked in a cold sweat, shivering in terror from your nightmares. Loud noises made you flinch. You were constantly having to remind yourself that it’s okay to go out and do what you want.

Dr. Akins checked in with you twice after letting her know you arrived. Ed texted or called almost daily; it was so nice to be able to talk to him freely.

You decide to walk a few blocks to the hole-in-the-wall restaurant you discovered on your first week here for dinner.

Taking a different way back, you come across a large, brown, and white dog tied outside a clothing shop.

The sign in the window above him reads, ‘Dog is for sale. Inquire within’.

His big, fluffy tail begins to wag when he realizes you’re approaching him and he lifts his head when you kneel, “Hi buddy.”

“Hi,” an older woman with a kind smile comes out when she sees you, “are you-“ she cuts off with a sneeze when she gets close.

“Bless you,” you smile.

“Thanks,” she sniffs, “I was trying to ask if you’re interested in him?”

“Oh,” you say, “I can’t…” you trail off as you realize there isn’t anything stopping you. The Airbnb listing said pets were welcome; same with your apartment. “Well…maybe?”

She laughs, sitting on the bench by the door, inviting you to sit beside her. “His name is Hank, he’s a 2-year-old, Great Pyrenees mix. He belonged to my daughter but…she can’t take care of him anymore; she checked herself into rehab,” she sighs sadly, “and will be for a while; she asked me to find him a good home since I’m horribly allergic and there’s too many kill shelters around here,” she answers before you can ask.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, petting his big head when he rests it on your knee, “he’s so sweet.”

“He is,” she confirms before sneezing again, “he listens well, I’ve never heard him bark and I think he’s house trained-I’ve had to keep him in the garage at my house or I can’t breathe-but he hasn’t had any accidents there. I guess he’s a little leery of men too, but she wasn’t hanging around the best crowd either. I took him to the vet-in my car which was a terrible idea, I still sneeze when I open the door,” she laughs, “but they gave him a micro-chip and updated his vaccines. He was given a clean bill of health, I have his records in the store.”

He looks up at you with those big brown eyes; staring into your soul while tugging at your heartstrings.

“I’ll take him,” you hear yourself saying as you pull out your wallet and pull out all the cash you have in your wallet; around $500. She begins to refuse but you insist, “Please. I know the vet wasn’t cheap, and your daughter will need help getting back on her feet.”

Tears fill her eyes but she eventually nods, “Thank you.”

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

It doesn’t take long at all for you to fall in love with Hank; his personality is as big as he is. He just had one accident the first night and hasn’t barked a single time.

“How do I look?” You ask him, spinning in front of the mirror as he watches you from his spot on your bed. Dressing up felt nice, even if it was just for a job interview.

You did your best to cover the healing yellow bruise under your eye, but it was still noticeable in certain light.

He hops off the bed and nudges your thigh with his head before looking up at you in the mirror.

“Thanks, I think so too,” you smile down at him. “I’ll be back in a little bit, you be a good boy.”

He’s asleep on the bed before you shut the door.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

“Hi, you must be Shae,” the pretty woman greeting smiles as she offers her hand. “I’m Reese, nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” you reply.

“Please,” she gestures to the chairs across her desk as she sits, “have a seat.”

Your eyes squint when the sunlight catches your face as you sit before giving her your resume. “I also have letters of recommendation from my nursing instructor and a few of the doctors I’ve worked with,” your cheeks heat as you hand them over next.

Your stomach sinks as her gaze pauses on your concealed bruise before she scans the information given.

Your nerves settle as she asks questions and gives you different scenarios. Dr. Kerner is confident, witty and you get the impression she doesn’t take shit from anyone; which is needed when the majority of her patients are cocky men.

“Well, I’ve seen enough,” she smiles, “you can expect to from HR soon for the formal offer,” your heart soars and then sinks when her brow furrows slightly when she glances down again at her resume, “Oh, is this current?”

Your nerves come back full force and your hands twist nervously in your lap, “Yes, it’s current.”

“It’s okay,” she replies softly, picking up on your anxiety, “HR will ask why it's been 2 years since you worked last. What should I tell them?”

You feel yourself dissociate as you look out the window. “My husb-I mean, ex-husband…he didn’t want me to work.”

She nods, looking at your healing eye and piecing together where it came from. “Shae?”

You flinch slightly as you snap out of it, before meeting her eyes.

“I’m just going to tell them it was due to family reasons,” she says, watching as you sag in relief. “Are you safe though?”

“I am,” you reply, touching the slight discoloration under your eye, “I am now. He’s…a few hours away, and I have a dog now.”

“Okay,” she replies with a small smile, reaching for a pen and notepad. “Here’s my number if that changes okay?”

“Okay,” you whisper, touched by her gesture. You had very few people in your corner, and they all lived hours away. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she replies, rising to her feet. “Hope to see you again soon.”

“I hope so too,” you smile genuinely for the first time.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

“HR will be in touch soon,” Dr. Kerner says as she escorts you from her office, smiling down the hall. “Have a good weekend.”

“Thanks, you too,” you reply, eyes following hers to two men approaching.

The blonde gives you a friendly smile before locking eyes with Dr. Kerner. While he’s attractive, it’s evident he only has eyes for her.

The darker-haired one with a mustache is downright hot. The way he gives you a quick, appreciative once over before flashing you a grin has you blushing like a virgin.

You quickly head outside, feeling an odd mixture of emotions; unnecessary guilt for looking at another man, excitement that someone so good-looking finds you attractive, relief that you can still feel attraction, and nervousness that you might/might not see him again if you get the job.

Once inside your car, you blast the AC to cool your heated cheeks as you make your way back to your temporary home.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

A few days pass before receiving the call that you have the job and you agree to start the following Monday.

You hardly sleep the night before and arrive before nearly everyone.

“Ready for your first day?” Dr. Kerner smiles when she sees you at your desk.

“I am,” you answer, “I looked over your preferences while I waited. It all looks familiar so I shouldn’t have any problem getting caught up to speed.”

“I didn’t figure you would,” she replies, “let me give you a quick tour and we’ll get the day started.”

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

By lunch, you’re already getting the hang of things.

“I don’t know how I’ve survived this long without you,” Dr. Kerner smiles as she checks the time, “seriously, you’re doing a great job.”

“Thank you,” you murmur, flushing as you look down at your shoes, so unused to compliments.

“You’re welcome,” she replies, “I usually have lunch in here with Jake, my boyfriend, and Rooster, an old friend of mine. They’re both naval aviators.”

“Rooster?” You ask, looking up confused.

“Ah, sorry, that’s his callsign,” she laughs, “his real name is Bradley; you can call him either. You’re more than welcome to join us.”

“Thanks for the offer, but I’ve gotta let my dog out. I haven’t found anyone to walk him yet; I’m pretty sure he’d be fine all day but I’m staying at an Airbnb until my apartment is ready in a few weeks so I don’t want to risk any accidents,” you reply. It’s the truth, but you’re still unsure and uneasy about a lot of things.

“Understandable,” she replies, “the offer stands if and when you want to.”

“Thank you,” you reply with a smile of your own.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

“Some friends of mine are having a get-together for the 4th at their house on the beach,” Dr. Kerner says at the end of the first day, “you’re more than welcome to come if you’d like.”

“You don’t have to answer right now,” she continues when you clam up, “and there’s no pressure, either. You can say no.”

The rising tension inside you falls when she gives you a choice.

“I’ll think about it,” you answer truthfully, “if that’s okay?”

“Of course. There’s no rush; Penny will be plenty of food and drinks either way,” she gives you a reassuring smile as she picks up her keys. “Have a good night, I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Thanks,” you smile back, “you too.”

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

The next few weeks pass quickly and June turns to July.

You were still in the rental and hadn’t had lunch with Dr. Kerner yet, but you could feel yourself slowly opening up to her.

“See ya after lunch,” she calls as you pick up your keys to head out, “tell Hank I said hi.”

“I will,” you laugh, “be back in a bit.”

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

Something is off when you unlock the door to the rental.

Hank, who’s normally asleep on the bed, is restlessly pacing.

“What’s up, buddy?” You ask, crouching to kiss him.

He’s distracted though, aggressively sniffing the welcome mat.

“Gotta go potty?” You ask, grabbing his leash, “Let’s go.”

He sits down right beside you when you get to the grass, sniffing the air and looking around.

“C’mon bud, go potty,” you coax.

He eventually takes a few steps to do his business but comes right back when he’s done.

“I’ll see you in a bit, okay? Be a good boy,” you murmur as you close the door while he stands there and watches, again so unlike him.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

“Hey,” Dr. Kerner says when you come back from lunch, looking down at her phone, “the last patient canceled, so we’ll be done early today. How was Hank?”

“Acting a little weird, but good,” you reply, brow furrowed, “he’s usually asleep when I get home, but he was up and pacing by the door. I thought he had to go potty really bad but he didn’t go without some coaxing. Who knows, probably just heard a squirrel or something.”

“Probably,” she agrees, her tone giving away that it doesn’t sit right with her.

It doesn’t sit right with you either.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

After saying goodbye to Dr. Kerner, you head home a few hours later.

Hank is again, or still, by the door.

You order food to be delivered while he eats his, sitting down on the couch with a beer while you wait.

You mull it over in your head before pulling your phone out to compose a text.

Shae: Hey Dr. Kerner, I’ve thought it over. I’d be happy to join you tomorrow if the offer still stands.

But there’s a knock at the door before you send it.

You rise to your feet, Hank gets up too, surprising you as he growls in your presence for the first time.

“It’s okay, just the delivery driver,” you coo before calling, “just a minute,” as you grab some cash for a tip.

“Wow, that was fast-“ you start to say as you open the door, but your head whips to the side. You hear the sharp slap to your cheek and eye before the pain can register.

The force of his backhand knocks you back a step and Chad follows you, gripping your arm so tightly you cry out in pain. He’s full of rage, his breath reeks of bourbon as spits in your face, “You think you can divorce me?! After everything I’ve done for-FUCK!”

Chad screams when Hank latches onto his clothed arm with a low growl. The force of his lunge pushes Chad back into the doorframe but you grab Hank’s collar to haul him off before he sinks his teeth into something more vital.

“Leave,” you say, voice shaking and barely audible over Hank’s snarls, “now.”

“This isn’t over,” he says, holding his arm as he takes taking a step back, “and that dog is dead.”

You slam the door closed behind him, locking it before falling to the floor with a sob.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

Hank lays down beside you, setting his head in your lap as he senses your distress. “You’re such a good boy,” you whisper, stroking his soft fur.

But he starts to growl again a few minutes later when a loud knock startles you both.

“San Diego PD, open up.”

You hold Hank’s collar as you crack the door to verify. “Just a minute, I’m going to put my dog in the bedroom; he’s a little worked up.”

The host of the AirBnb shows up shortly after, holding the bag of your forgotten food.

Adrenaline wearing off, your face begins to throb in time with his fingerprints on your arm as you explain what happened to the officers. You feel numb as they take pictures of your injuries, but you don’t hold much hope when the officers say they’ll find him.

The Airbnb host gives you more bad news before leaving too.

You try to compose yourself as you start to pack but hopelessness of the situation begins to set in, and you feel suddenly feel completely overwhelmed. Your thoughts begin to race before you pick up the phone; feeling as if you have no other choice but to turn to the only person that might help.

Your heart races as the line rings.

“Shae?” she answers, “what’s up?”

There’s faint music in the background.

“Hi Dr. Kerner,” you say, trying to sound calm, “I’m so sorry to bother you.”

“Please, call me Reese,” she reminds you gently, “you’re not bothering me. Is everything okay?”

“No,” your voice breaks, “it’s not. Chad…my ex, he found me.”

“Where are you? Is he there now?” She asks, anxious now.

“No, he took off when Hank bit him,” you sniff, zipping one of your packed suitcases closed, “I’m still at the Airbnb, packing my stuff.”

“Okay,” she sighs, her relief evident until your last words sink in, “Okay. Packing your-wait, why are you packing?”

“The police came a few minutes after he left; one of the units heard the commotion. The unit owner came while I was giving my statement,” You answer, walking down the short hallway to the living room, “I guess the other tenants complained to him and are scared-understandably so-but said I needed to be out…tonight.”

“Oh Shae,” she says, “I’m so sorry. Let me come help you?”

“Okay.” Both of you are surprised when you agree.

“I’m at the Hard Deck-which is a bar-with Jake and Bradley. Oh shoot, I forgot we rode together. Hang one sec,” she pauses, “I’ll order an Uber.”

“They can come too,” you say, more anxiety setting in as you look at the clock, “if they want to, I mean. I…I think I need all the help I can get. I’ve got to be out in about an hour.”

“Okay,” she says, murmuring something before coming back on the line, “they’re happy to help, Shae. Text me the address, we’re getting in the truck now.”

“I will, oh…” you cringe when you catch a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror above the couch. Your right eye is bloodshot from the trauma, below on your cheek is puffy and still red, and his fingerprints already purpling your arm. It’s nothing compared to last time, but it’s still startling, “and Reese? I should warn you, I look…rough.”

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

A/N: Well…what do you guys think? Did everything make sense (especially for those who haven’t read All of Me).

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I love this!! Can’t wait to see more of bradley!!

A Little Bit Stronger

Part 2

(previous part here, next part here)

Bradley Rooster Bradshaw x OFC/You

Summary: You begin to open up once you realize you’re safe for the night.

Warnings: Just like everything else I write/post: this story is for 18+ only. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. It will contain smut, adult themes, situations and language. Please also note this story may be triggering due to the topic of domestic abuse (physical, emotional, sexual) violence-feel free to message me with any questions before reading.

*This is the Bradley from All of Me (Jake and Reese’s story). You should be able to be read as a stand-alone but it doesn’t hurt to start there.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

Your anxiety continues to build when your search for a place to stay for the night falls flat. Few hotels in the area have vacancies with the long holiday weekend and none allow dogs.

“Shae?” Reese calls through the door, “I’m here.”

You toss your phone on the bed with a sigh before heading down the hall, Hank hot on your heels.

You hold his collar as you unlock the door, cracking it open before stepping back, “Come in.”

Your grip tightens as Reese pushes it open slowly, but he surprises you by wagging his tail instead of growling.

“Hi baby,” she greets him softly, crouching to pet him as her eyes meet yours, “Oh Shae.”

“I’m okay,” you smile as your eyes fill with tears again, “I’ve had worse.”

She nods. “Yous such a good boy, protecting your mama like that,” she kisses the top of his head as she stands and wraps you in a hug.

So unused to a kind touch, you stiffen for a moment before lifting your arms and returning it.

“Thanks for coming, I didn’t know what to do…who to call,” you say, swallowing the lump in your throat.

“Of course,” she replies, eyes falling to your swollen cheek when you pull back, “let’s get some ice on it.”

“Okay, right, of course,” you say, touching the tender skin while you nod, “Duh, I’m a nurse, I just-where are the guys? Did they drop you off?”

“Hey, it’s okay,” she smiles kindly at your stuttering while she checks the freezer, “They told me to come in first to make sure you’re still okay that they came.”

It all suddenly feels like too much and you just want to sit down and cry.

Instead, you take a deep breath as you look at the ticking clock and say, “I’m okay with it.”

“Okay,” she murmurs, placing a bag of frozen peas wrapped in a towel gently on your cheek before guiding you to the couch. “I’ll let them in.”

Reese opens the door and waves them over just as you remember the words of the lady you got Hank from, “he’s a little leery of men.”

You jump up to grab his collar but miss as he trots to the door, “Oh wait! I was told…”

The words die on your tongue as Bradley kneels to greet him, laughing as Hank sniffs his face while his tail wags a mile a minute.

Jake’s right behind him and all 3 look at you to finish your sentence.

“I was told he’s a little leery of men,” you finish, wanting to hide your face at their attention. Thankfully the ice pack hides your flush. “Seems to like you guys though.”

Bradley gives you a soft smile as he rises and holds out his hand, “I’m Bradley, or Rooster, either’s fine. I’m glad to officially meet you, sorry it’s under these circumstances.”

He’s even more handsome up close; the mustache that should look ridiculous but suits him well, deep brown eyes that you could get lost in, the scars on his cheek and neck that you want to run your fingers over. There’s no pity or anger in his expression as you shake his hand; he almost looks hurt on your behalf.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you murmur, trying not to squirm under his gaze, “I apologize for avoiding you,” you say, looking up at him and then Jake, “both of you since I started. It’s been difficult adjusting…”

Adjusting to being able to talk to a man without getting beat for it, not having to come home and report every interaction you had with a male coworker, patient, etc., not being called a whore for just glancing in one’s direction…

“It’s okay,” Jake says as he rises, holding his hand out next. You’re almost reluctant to let go of Bradley’s calloused one dwarfing yours. “It’s understandable after everything you’ve been through.”

Jake’s expression doesn’t show pity either but there’s definitely anger as he looks over the frozen peas pressed to your cheek. But it’s not directed at you. “Let’s get you out of here. I can’t stand being at a place that kicks a woman while she’s down. What’s all yours?”

You realize there’s a familiarity to his anger with his words; someone close to him has been hurt like this too. “Out here there’s just a couple of coffee cups and Hank’s toys and bed, I think. In the bedroom, I need to pack the rest of my clothes in the closet, oh, and a tote too.”

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

Reese helps you pack your bedroom while the guys gather the rest. “Did you find somewhere for tonight?”

You shake your head, “Not yet. Everything is booked with the holiday.”

“You could stay with me,” she replies as she places the rest of your clothes in the last suitcase, “I’ve got plenty of room.”

“I appreciate it, but I won’t risk something happening with Drew there,” you say, refusing to traumatize her son.

“He’s with his grandparents tonight,” she replies. “I’ll sleep better knowing you’re safe.”

“Are you sure?” You ask, your other choice is sleeping in your car, “Hank’s a big dog and he sheds.”

“Positive,” she answers, zipping the suitcase closed and setting it on the floor, “I have a big house and dog hair never hurt anyone. We can have a drink and talk or sit together in silence. Whatever you want.”

“Okay,” you say, voice cracking as tears again fill your eyes, “thank you.”

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

The host shows up again just as you’re heading out the door. You nearly laugh at the disgusted look Jake throws his way.

You don’t even look at him while you drop the keys in his hand.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

Reese rides with you on the way to her house, giving you directions while she pets Hank’s big head resting on the center console.

“I appreciate this so much,” you tell her as you pull into her driveway.

“Of course,” she replies, “Jake was going to spend the night tonight, but I can send him home if it bothers you.”

“No, not at all. It’s your home,” you tell her, shifting your car into park, “I’m sure he’s long gone by now,” you sigh, “and it’s actually kind of comforting; knowing there’s someone his size here on the odd chance he figures out where I am.”

“Okay,” she nods as she opens her car door, “let me know if you change your mind. He won’t care.”

You give her a small smile and follow her inside.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

After getting the things you need for the night inside and settling in one of the guest rooms, Reese invites you outside to join them around her fire pit.

“I’m assuming this is okay?” Reese asks, handing you the same brand of beer you had been drinking earlier when Chad showed up, probably still sitting half-full on the counter in the rental.

“Yes, thank you,” you smile, taking it from her. You felt less dowdy in your leggings and old college tee since she changed into sweats too. Hank finishes patrolling her yard to come lay on your feet with a relaxed sigh.

“Do you think Chad was there earlier?” Reese asks, bending down to pat his soft fur, “You said he was pacing when you let him out at lunch.”

You nod, “Yeah, I think so. He was still worked up when I got home.”

“How did he get in?” Jake asks.

“I let him in,” you frown, picking at the label on the bottle of beer, “he knocked and I let him in without looking because I ordered food. You’d think I’d know better,” you laugh at your own stupidity before taking a long pull. “I was just feeling so good after working; I was actually in the process of texting you that I was gonna tag along tomorrow when he knocked.”

“You still can,” Reese says softly, “I’d love it if you’d come.”

You nod as you gently touch the bruising on your cheek, “I’ll have to see how this looks in the morning first. Anyways, I opened the door and he backhanded me, knocked me back a few steps. God, if he had hit me on the other side…” you shiver and your stomach turns as you imagine it, “I’m still healing from the orbital fracture he gave me. That’s what the bruising was from when we first met.”

“Oh Shae,” Reese murmurs.

“Fuck,” you hear Jake mutter.

Bradley’s hand tightens on the bottle in his hand as he shifts in his seat.

You’re too embarrassed to look at any of their expressions.

“He grabbed my arm and was screaming at me. He must’ve gotten served the divorce papers this week,” you continue, eyes not focusing on anything as you recall the attack, “that’s when Hank bit him.”

“Good boy,” Jake tells him, giving him some hearty pats. Hank’s tail thumps in response.

“He screamed like a girl,” you smile at the memory, “screamed like I did the last time he…” you trail off as you realize what you’re saying.

“You don’t have to tell us anything you don’t want to, Shae,” it’s Bradley’s voice this time.

You nod, still not looking up.

“I pulled Hank off before he could do anything worse. He was wearing long sleeves so I don’t think it broke the skin,” you say, stroking the soft, downy fur of his ears, “then he ran off. Not before telling me ‘this isn’t over’ and ‘that dog is dead.’”

You swallow back your tears with another drink before looking at Reese’s shiny eyes over the fire. “That’s why I can’t stay here. He’s never going to stop. Not until he’s in prison or one of us is dead.”

“Why isn’t he in prison?” Bradley asks. Now there’s anger staining his voice, but it doesn’t scare you like you thought it would. “Especially if this isn’t his first offense.”

“He should be in prison,” you agree, “but his dad is the Sacramento County DA. His family has all kinds of connections and the entire police force is in his back pocket. All charges against him mysteriously drop with a phone call from his daddy.”

It’s silent while that news sinks in.

“I-we won’t let anything happen to you,” Bradley says after a moment.

“He’s right,” Reese agrees, “and you don’t have to go through this alone anymore. We’re all here for you.”

“Thank you,” you murmur, watching the fire crackle and pop.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

You’re grateful for the cloak of darkness as the conversation begins to flow. You’ve caught Bradley’s eyes on you on more than once but he looks away whenever you’d catch his gaze.

You can’t help but smile at the banter between friends. You heart pinches a bit at the love Jake and Reese share. The way he looks at her with so much love and adoration almost makes you blush.

It’s the kind of love your parents had. The kind of love you’ve always wished for.

“So…how do you all know each other?” You ask when there’s a lull.

“I met Bradley the same day I met my late husband, Andy,” Reese starts with a small smile, “those two were friends since they were in diapers and happened to be Andy’s ride to the ER when he got hurt. I ended being the only one available to stitch him up. Andy scared the shit out of me when he waiting for me after work,” she laughs, fiddling with what you assume is Andy’s wedding ring on her right hand. “Bradley was Andy’s best man in our wedding, he was there for us when we got Andy’s ALS diagnosis, which was shortly after I found out I was pregnant with Drew.”

A lump forms in your throat as her voice gets thicker with tears. Jake intertwines his fingers in hers before squeezing gently.

“Andy declined quickly and died shortly after he was born. Bradley’s been there for Drew and I every step of the way,” she smiles at him warmly, reaching over to squeeze his knee. He flushes as he swallows heavily before taking a long pull of his drink.

“Jake and Bradley are in the same squadron, and I met Jake the day I got back from my deployment a few months ago at the beach,” she continues. “What was supposed to be a hook-up turned into this,” her heavy sigh turns into laughter at Jake’s scoff, but his lip quirks too.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

“When did you say your apartment will be ready?” Jake asks a few minutes later, handing you a second beer.

“Should be done by the end of next week,” you reply.

“Could she stay at your place?” Reese asks Jake, “you could stay here?”

“You could,” Jake turns to you, but he’s wearing a frown, “but there’s a no-pet policy, and my landlord is a dick. I’m guessing you want Hank with you too.”

“I do,” you nod, “thank you though.”

“You could stay at my house,” Bradley says. Your heart skips a beat when you look up and meet his kind, brown gaze. He doesn’t look away this time, though his eyes dip to your lips briefly. Your breath catches as desire hits you like a freight train with the realization that he’s attracted to you. “I-uh, I own a house near the beach. I’ve got plenty of room for you both,” he smiles at Hank, “and I’m sure I can stay with Mav and Penny.”

“I-no,” you argue, “I won’t kick you out of your own home. Thank you though.”

“You’re not,” he smiles, “I offered.”

“Well…” you trail off, not sure what to say. The problem is you don’t want to stay anywhere by yourself after tonight. You also don’t want to drag anyone further into this mess.

“You don’t have to make any decisions tonight,” Reese says with a yawn, “I think I’m gonna go to bed. You want a ride home Roo?”

He shakes his head as he yawns too, “I’ll just crash on the couch if you don’t mind?”

“Not at all. I was gonna make you Uber if you wanted a ride,” she teases, laughing as he pushes her into Jake.

You smile at their antics as you follow them inside.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

Hank’s whining wakes you a little before 7. Though your body is bruised and sore, you feel better rested than you have in years; it’s like your subconscious knew you were safe.

“Shhhh,” you tell Hank dancing at the top of the stairs as you grab your robe. His tail slowly moves side to side as he waits for you to get close before he loudly takes off down the stairs before you can pull it on.

“Wait,” you whisper as you follow, trying not to slip.

He’s waiting patiently at the bottom until he hears soft snores coming from the couch.

“Hank!” You whisper-yell as he gallops to find the source, “Leave him alone!”

But it’s too late.

You hear Bradley’s “oomph” before you can catch him.

“I’m so sorry!” You cringe as you take in the sight of your giant dog splayed on top of him. “I snore when I mess around with him…he must’ve thought you wanted to play.”

Bradley laughs as he tries to avoid Hank’s cold, wet nose against his neck, “It’s okay. I’ve had worse wake-up calls.”

You suddenly remember your lack of a bra as Bradley’s eyes flick down to your chest where your nipples are standing at attention against the pilled cotton of your shirt in the cool morning air. His gaze drops further to your bare legs, shorts hidden by the length of your tee. Helooks away quickly but his cheeks redden.

“Come on,” you coo as you pull on your robe, pretending not to notice to ease Bradley’s embarrassment. You can’t deny that the attention feels good. “Gotta go potty?”

Hank’s head whips around at that and Bradley groans out a laugh as the oaf leaps off him to bound toward the back door.

“Sorry again,” you say with a sheepish smile as you follow.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

You sit on the stairs, watching Hank run off some energy when the door opens a few minutes later.

“Coffee?” Bradley asks, holding two cups by the handles as he closes the door behind him. “With or without creamer? I don’t care either way.”

He looks good; like really good in a white undershirt and gray sweatpants.

“Witho-with…with creamer, please,” you catch yourself, “Chad had me on a strict diet for many years,” you explain, knowing he’s wondering but too polite to ask, “still trying to get used to being able to eat or drink what I want.”

He frowns as he hands you the warm cup, his gaze lingering on your bruised face.

“Thank you,” you say, wincing as you try to smile, your cheek aching with the movement. “You can sit if you want.”

He nods before taking a seat at the opposite edge of the steps. “The swelling’s gone down.”

“Has it?” Your fingertips brush the tender skin. It warms under your touch from the way he watches you, “those peas must’ve worked.”

He smiles sadly and you turn to take a sip of the coffee that’s sweetened perfectly.

“I was actually excited about tagging along today; finally starting to feel like the old me again…standing on my own two feet,” you clear your throat, “then he pulled the rug out from under me.”

“You can still come,” he replies, “no one will say anything.”

“I just…,” you sigh, “I shouldn’t leave Hank here all day by himself, and gotta find a place to stay by tonight and…”

He waits patiently for you to gather your thoughts and continue.

“and I’m scared,” you whisper, tears again filling your eyes, “I’m scared to be alone right now.”

“I bet,” he murmurs, “you’ve been through a lot.”

Both of you are quiet for a while, chuckling occasionally as Hank goofs around.

Besides the butterflies fluttering around in your stomach, you feel at ease with Bradley. You had been young and dumb when Chad swept you off your feet; the bad gut-feeling you had about him was easily ignored by the gifts and over-the-top gestures. You’ll never make that mistake again.

“What if…you stayed at my house…with me?” He asks tentatively a few minutes later, “I’ve got a guest bedroom upstairs; you can still have your own space but I’ll be around so you can feel safe.”

You want to be selfish and say yes. You would do just about anything to get a few more good nights' sleep like you did last night instead of overanalyzing every sound.

“Just like roommates, ya know?” He says when you hesitate, “it’s only for a few days.”

“Okay,” you answer without thinking.

“Yeah?” He sounds just as surprised as you.

“Yeah,” you give him a small smile as you nod, feeling overwhelmed and relieved all at once.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

A/N: Forced (kind of) proximity anyone? 🤭 what did y’all think?

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Ok but this hits home way too much 😭😭 like I'm actually crying. My dad in freshman year of highschool, helped me buy my first car which was my truck, a tan 1989 f-150, named spirit. We drove from Southern Wisconsin all the way to Idaho during spring break to get it. It took us 5 days. It was so expensive driving out there and Wyoming kept closing the roads because of so much snow. That man spent so much of his time and money rebuilding it just for me and I love the thing to death. He bought me everything I wanted to put on the truck just short of a new paint job. I had expensive bumpers, a spare engine, tires, KC headlights, a roll bar, and even new interior parts that cost fortunes. Honestly this seriously brings me to tears. I hope I find as good of a man as my father, one that's willing to do these things for me just because he loves me. Cause God only knows that cars are the way to my heart. Thank you so much for writing this, your work is a god send as always. I'm gonna go sit and cry for a bit, maybe even call my dad and tell him how much I love him 😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️

To anyone who reads this reblog, def go read the actual story, it's amazing 👏

Vintage | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You love teasing your husband about his deep and unwavering devotion to his Bronco, but he's insistent that it would come in second place to you every time, and he intends to prove it. While you're away on deployment, he concocts a plan to get you behind the wheel of your very own vintage beauty.

Warnings: Swears, fluff, mentions of smut

Length: 2700 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Check out my masterlist for more!

"Sometimes I swear you love that thing more than you love me."

Your voice startled Bradley as he ran the wet, soapy sponge along the hood of his vintage Ford Bronco, pulling him from his thoughts. That was something you frequently said to him, jokingly claiming that you were the second love of his life. But you both knew it wasn't true. Especially not tonight.

"Hey, Baby," he whispered, coaxing you closer to him as he tossed the sponge back into the bucket. "Come here."

The setting sun painted your face with orange and gold, and he noticed the sadness in your eyes. He quickly wiped his hands on his jeans and then held them out to you, and you were in his arms in an instant. "Bradley," you mumbled against his chest as he squeezed you, getting your shirt a little damp in the process. But you didn't seem to mind. "I'm going to miss you."

Detailing and cleaning what used to be his dad's 1973 Bronco had become a way for him to relieve stress. He would get out the soap and turn on the hose when he needed a few minutes to himself. It was easier to be alone in his head, processing his thoughts and worries when he was washing the light blue masterpiece he'd spent so many years and a lot of money preserving. He always found himself in a better headspace to deal with whatever was troubling him when he spent some time with the Bronco. And today was no exception. 

"I'm going to miss you, too."

Sometimes it felt like the nearly five years you and he had been married were just spent alternating deployments. First he would be gone on an aircraft carrier for months on end, and then it would be your turn. You'd be sent abroad with the Navy before returning to him, and then the cycle would begin anew. Everything felt harder when you weren't around, and maybe that's why Bradley was out on the driveway right now instead of helping you pack for your early call time tomorrow morning. 

With your cheek pressed to his sternum, you cried softly. "It's only two months this time. And I'll have access to my phone. And I'll even be home in time for our anniversary. I don't know why I'm feeling so emotional about this."

He pressed his lips to your hair and whispered, "It's not like it gets any easier. You know that. I know that. It's going to feel like two months of hell on my end."

You sniffed hard then looked up at him with a little smirk. "At least you'll have the Bronco to keep you warm."

Bradley groaned and started to walk you backwards toward the house. "I mean, she's pretty and all, and I've definitely spent a night or two curled up around her gear shift, but I never gave her a diamond ring."

Your lips and your soft laughter against his neck sent a jolt of physical pleasure through his body, but he didn't want to rush this. He needed this to last, to hold him over for two months without your touch. Both of you tripped along to the bedroom where he smiled and whispered, "Let me show you that you're my number one girl. Let me prove you always will be."

Bradley was meticulous. He knew every inch of his Bronco, inside and out, but he knew you better. The sounds you made were prettier. The way you clung to him as he brought you pleasure was unparalleled. Your fingers laced with his as he connected his body with yours in the most intimate way, and it left him breathless.

"I love you."

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

Two days. He'd only been alone for two days, and he was already halfway through binge watching a season of a show that wasn't even that interesting. When he got home from work, he eyed up the couch and TV before ultimately changing into some sweats and heading back out to the driveway. He looked over the Bronco from hood to taillights, making a mental list of what she needed: new wiper blades, two new tires, and an oil change.

When he took his phone out to order the parts from his favorite website, he must have typed something wrong. It rerouted him to a vintage Ford resale page that left him staring at a sage green 1975 Bronco in rough condition. Man, she was still pretty though, with her original chrome and hubcaps. She was just an hour away, and the price wasn't too bad...

He glanced up at the blue gem in front of him. An idea started to take shape. He wondered how you would feel about it. With a smile, he ordered the wiper blades and oil filter that he needed and went inside to make dinner. But he couldn't stop picturing that chipped, green paint, and the vinyl that needed to be patched. 

If he knew he could get you hooked on a Bronco of your very own, he'd make this purchase. Two months to go. Shit, he might have just enough time to pull this off. He could practically picture you cranking the engine to life and waving goodbye as you pulled out of the driveway and took your Bronco for a spin. He wouldn't be able to say it with a straight face, but he'd say it anyway. "You love that thing more than you love me, Baby."

When he was stretched out on your side of the bed later that night, enveloped in your sweet scent that clung to the pillows, he closed his eyes and thought long and hard about what he wanted to do. It would be fun to prove to you once and for all where his loyalties lie. Or maybe it could just be a project that would keep him busy, and if you didn't like the idea, he could resell it after you got home. Either way, he drifted to sleep as he thought about you behind the wheel, and he knew it was too perfect to pass up.

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

"Hey, Baby," Bradley said with a smirk as he answered his phone.

"Bradley! I miss you like crazy!"

"I miss you, too," he promised as he looked at the rather beat up, green Bronco before him. He got it for a great price when he offered to pay cash, and the tow truck just dropped it off a few days ago. Half of the engine was taken apart on a tarp at his feet, and it was currently jacked up so he could replace the oil pan. But he thought it was gorgeous. "I have a little surprise for you when you get home."

"A surprise?! Tell me. You know I can't wait that long."

"Nah," he said, kneeling down to check the wiring for the headlights. "I think I'll make you wait this one out."

"Rooster!"

"What?" he laughed, wedging the phone between his shoulder and his ear as he slipped his work gloves on and pulled at the loose wire. "You know, this is what you get for always giving me a hard time about my dad's Bronco. I love you so much, Baby, I'll make you wait for the surprise. It'll be sweeter that way."

"You're the worst," you groaned playfully. "Now I'll be thinking about what it could possibly be the whole time I'm gone. I'll be wondering what you have up your sleeve."

"As long as you're thinking about me, I'm happy," he rasped, and your pretty sigh in response left him a little breathless.

"I'm always thinking about you. Promise me as soon as I get back, we'll go for a long drive? Up along the coast? Late at night?"

He loved that idea. It would just look a little different than you were probably imagining if he could get this thing up and running again in time for your return. "We'll make a night of it," he promised. "I'll pack some blankets, and we can sit in the back and look out at the ocean. Can't guarantee I'll be able to keep my hands to myself though."

"Mmm. That's what I'm counting on."

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

After about two weeks of watching a lot of YouTube videos posted by professionals, Bradley finally had the engine rebuilt. He was just waiting for some parts to arrive before he could put it back in place. "You're a needy one, aren't you?" he asked the green Bronco. "Nothing like her. She's a saint." He nodded his head toward the blue one before kneeling to replace the taillights. 

He was quickly realizing that the money he saved on the cost of the actual vehicle was being eaten up in the expensive, vintage parts. He was lucky he knew how to do most of this himself, even if it took twice as long. Today he was replacing the brakes and listening to a Motown playlist, and he fully realized that he felt calmest when he was with you or a Bronco. He snorted at how ridiculous that fact was as he scooted under the vehicle, but it was true. And having you tucked away in the back with the tailgate dropped, all wrapped up in a blanket while you turned him on just by existing.... well, that's when he would be happiest of all.

As the weeks wore on and the project progressed, the day finally arrived when it was time to try to start her up and take her for a little drive. Everything smelled like new rubber from the tires he'd just put on. The vinyl seats were still in bad shape, but when he slipped the key into the ignition and turned it, the engine purred to life.

Bradley's head tipped back as he groaned softly. "So fucking pretty. My god." He tapped the accelerator gently with his foot, enjoying the rev of the engine. He smoothed his hands along the steering wheel and the dashboard before he adjusted the rear view mirror to accommodate his height. Then he flicked the chrome switch and turned on the radio which he was surprised still worked.

My Girl by the Temptations poured from the speakers as the station crackled to life, and that felt like a very good sign. "Let's get out of here, Sweetheart," he whispered before shifting into reverse and leaving the driveway and his toolbox behind.

She was smooth and steady and everything he was hoping for. Would it ever fully compete with Goose's Bronco? Probably not. Was it worth the investment anyway? He'd find out next week when you got home. There were just a few things left to do before he dropped it off to be repainted and have the interior patched, and then she'd be good as new.

Bradley's phone rang in his pocket, and he smiled when he saw it was you. "Hey, Baby."

"Bradley! I miss you so much. I swear, if this thing was longer than two months, I wouldn't make it. What are you up to?"

"Oh, I'm just out for a little drive."

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

After eight weeks of nothing more than a few scant phone calls, Bradley was more than ready to have you home again. Maybe you and he could take a few days off from work. He'd help you catch up on some sleep after initially keeping you up all night. He already had some blankets ready to go as soon as you said you wanted to drive up to Carlsbad and watch the surfers at sunset before making love in the back of your Bronco.

Your Bronco. His wife's Bronco. It would take some getting used to, but it already made him smile every time he thought about it. With his hands on that familiar steering wheel, he drove toward the Naval base where both of you spent so much of your time. He waited, leaning against the light blue hood until you came running toward him in your uniform with your bags.

"Bradley!" you shrieked as you landed in his arms where you belonged. 

"I missed you," he promised, finally kissing your lips again after so many weeks. He felt your bag hit his foot, and he smiled as he tilted your face up for better access to your mouth.

"I missed you, too," you moaned softly, and he was already making the move to get you back home and remind you what you meant to him. But you dug your feet in outside the passenger door. 

"Where's my surprise?" you asked as you tucked your fingers into the top of his jeans and grinned up at him. "I've been thinking about it nonstop. Is it you?"

"No," he replied with a chuckle as his gaze drifted toward the Bronco. "You'll see soon enough."

You glanced at where he was looking, and you rolled your eyes before kissing his chin. "Did she keep you company while I was gone? She looks pristine, like you spend some time working on her."

Bradley kissed your forehead. "Just get in, Baby," he rasped. "The sooner we get home, the sooner your little surprise will make sense."

He knew the routine by heart now. The short ride home would start out with you holding his right hand and playing with his fingers while he drove. Then your hand would migrate to his thigh when the Bronco was about five blocks away. Then as soon as the tires touched the driveway, you'd unbuckle your seatbelt and make your way over to his lap.

The routine was important to him. He loved it. He loved taking you inside and directly to bed before coming back out much later to get the bags. He thrived on the return to normal life that was triggered by the routine. But today, he knew you weren't going to end up on his lap, and that was more than okay.

When your hand settled on his thigh exactly five blocks away from home, Bradley smiled. Your fingers crept up inch by inch as you leaned closer and whispered in his ear that you had their fifth wedding anniversary all planned out for the following weekend. You were playing with the zipper of his jeans by the time he could see the house, and he just waited for it. He was not disappointed.

"What the fuck is that?" you gasped, both hands going to the dashboard in front of you as you leaned to check out the freshly painted green Bronco as he coasted into the driveway. "Bradley?" you asked, glancing at him with wide eyes as he shifted into park.

He smiled and leaned over to kiss your softly parted lips. "This is your surprise. You're always joking about how much I love my Bronco, but I'll never love anything more than I love you."

You pressed your lips to his once before pulling away, shaking your head slightly. "So you got me one of my own?" you asked, jerking your thumb toward the green one.

He nodded and pulled his key from the ignition before pressing it into your palm. "Yep. She's all yours."

"Wait," you whispered, your brow creasing in confusion as you looked down at your hand. "This is your key."

"No, it's your key. The key to the green one is in the house. That's my key."

You gaped at him as your eyebrows shot upwards. "You're giving me your Bronco?"

"Yep."

"But," you whispered, turning to look out the window, "I can drive the other one."

"No, I bought the green one with myself in mind," he replied, taking your chin gently in his hand so you were looking at him again. "This one's better. She's sweet. Like you. She's yours."

"Oh my god, Bradley."

He was wrong; you did end up in his lap. Right where you belonged. His hands settled at your hips as you kissed every inch of his face while he laughed.

"I want to take her for a spin," you whispered, nudging him out of the driver's seat with your knee. "Go."

He smiled as he walked around to the passenger side of the blue Bronco, and he barely had the door closed before you started the engine and shifted into gear. "Pretty soon you'll love this thing more than you love me, Baby."

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

He gave you his Bronco. The green one was for him. That's how you know he loves you. I hope they do some nasty shit in the green one to break it in. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

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