#rooster
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“Long fucking day,” Rooster mutters, clinking his glass against Phoenix’s where it sits on the bar.
“He pulled my papers.”
“Why would he do that?”
Phoenix hums, nodding a little without looking over. Her eyes stay fixed on the thin napkin underneath her glass, thumb catching over the rim and pushing through the salt in a couple short, quick passes.
“Did you write me a note, Natasha?”
“No. I wrote down my room number.”
Natasha snorts out a laugh, exhaling and bringing her thumb to her lips. Her tongue catches against the callus on her fingertip as she licks the salt away, quickly knocking back half of the top-shelf margarita she’d ordered in one go.
Bradley has an eyebrow raised when she finally does meet his eyes. Grinning, he tilts his head and says, “Well. Pray tell, Phoenix. What’re we drinkin’ about?”
Phoenix turns on her barstool, knees knocking against Rooster’s. She rests both hands on his thighs, squeezing his legs in reassurance as she explains, “You remember when I told you I’d hooked up with an older guy during fleet week?”
“Years ago,” Bradley nods, brows drawing together. “Yeah. I remember. You wouldn’t shut up about him for weeks. Why?”
Phoenix pats one of Rooster’s legs. “I’m very sorry for what I’m about to put you through.”
“Huh?”
“I’m Maverick.”
“Oh, I’ve heard of you.”
“Good things, I hope.”
“Impossible things. I’m hoping they’re all true.”
“Bradley,” Phoenix says slowly, carefully. “I hooked up with Maverick.”
Three things happen in quick succession:
Bradley’s smile drops, he breathes out a sigh, and then he proceeds to empty his glass of whiskey in one swallow.
“Please tell me you’re lying.”
Phoenix covers her mouth with her hand to hide the way she’s smirking. Judging by the narrowing of Bradley’s eyes, it doesn’t work. “Nope.”
“Natasha. Oh my god. Jesus, are you — you gave me very explicit details about that hookup.”
“I think it’s cosmic payback for all the times I’ve had to listen to you go on and on about Hangman’s perfect dick.”
“It’s not even that good,” Bradley refutes, looking away, blushing a deep red.
Phoenix sips at her margarita. “You’re a bad fucking liar.”
Bradley pinches at the bridge of his nose with two fingers. “So you fucked my godfather. What the fuck, Tash.”
“For the record, I’m still on your side,” she says, thinking back to their earlier conversation on the tarmac. “But I also think you need to know, in the interest of best friend honesty, that I’m a little swayed by his absolutely perfect —“
“If you finish that sentence, I’m getting a new best friend.”
“Like you could ever replace me,” Phoenix huffs. She waves a hand toward the bartender across the room and asks, “You want another drink?”
Bradley’s answer is immediate. “Several.”
#mavnix#top gun maverick#reiverreturns#userfrench#userbells#natasha phoenix trace#bradley rooster bradshaw#Phoenix#rooster#maverick#top gun maverick au#I JUST THINK ITS COMEDY#and I promised reiver 100 words of SOMETHING so I am breaking the writers block with this#you are welcome#mywriting
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ROOSTER ROOSTER ROOSTER ROOSTER ROOSTER
#surprise#no i don't only draw x files#crazy right#anyways#i love top gun#this is my attempt to reel in the top gun fans#hey XD#top gun#top gun maverick#top gun art#rooster#bradley bradshaw#bradley rooster bradshaw#TOP GUN!!!!!!#digital art#digital drawing#ryerocks#yup
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Source details and larger version.
From giant roosters to rooster costumes to rooster people, here's my collection of vintage rooster imagery.
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Curious what if we switch the roles 👀
Cowboy Rooster and Pilot Reader,
Also hope you have a good day:)
-🐎
So I haven't made the reader a pilot, but I hope you still like it love
Alsooooo I started writing a whole ass cowboy Bob fic and it's all I can think about
Bradley had been riding up to his father's fishing cabin since he was a boy. His mom took him up there every summer when he was growing up.
The walls were littered with pictures of his parents, of his dad and his best friend on their fishing trips. Growing up Bradley's mom used to tell him stories about his father, about what happened on those fishing trips he took with Mav.
When his mother died, Bradley stopped riding up to the cabin. He had no reason to now she was gone,nobody special to take up there.
But then he met her. He caught her eye from across the bar, she claimed that it was his moustache and ancient cowboy hat that made him stand out. Rooster took her home that night.
And then the next night.
And then the next morning she was riding on the back of Texas, her arms wrapped around his waist as he took her around the property. It was almost like she hadn't left since.
Bradley took her to the fishing cabin. He didn't ride up like he did when he was a kid, instead taking her in his truck. His hand was on her thigh for the entire drive.
When Bradley got to the cabin, he couldn't help but apologise for how dusty everything was. But she didn’t care as she pulled him onto the bed, pulled him on top of her abd wrapped her legs around him.
Bradley took his hat off and cradled her head, deepening the kiss. It would have been a miracle if the ancient bed made it through the night.
#bradley bradshaw#bradley bradshaw imagine#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw fluff#bradley bradshaw x you#rooster x reader#rooster#rooster imagine#rooster fluff#rooster x you#top gun#top gun maverick#top gun rooster#bradley rooster bradshaw#miles teller#cowboy!au#miles teller imagine#miles teller x reader
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IT’S MY BIRTHDAY!!!! 🎉 I’m going to get day drunk and watch Top Gun and Top Gun Maverick 👍🏻🎊
#top gun maverick#top gun#jake seresin#hangman seresin x reader#jake hangman seresin#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw x reader#payback#coyote#natasha pheonix trace#robert bob floyd#fanboy top gun#top gun maverick hangman#rooster#pete maverick mitchell#iceman top gun
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This implies that a lot of species we determined to not have self recognition might do well with a modified test.
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boys club
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Mfs who've never owned chickens: "Can you believe chickens are dinosaurs? lol what a downgrade."
Chickens:
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Mav: Today I realised I'm old
Ice: What happened?
Mav: I fell in the mess hall and instead of laughing, Rooster came running to see if I was ok
Ice:
Mav: I saw fear in his eyes
#sam shitposts#incorrect quotes#incorrect quote#top gun#top gun maverick#pete mitchell#pete maverick mitchell#tom kazansky#tom iceman kazansky#iceman#maverick#icemav#rooster#bradley bradshaw#bradley rooster bradshaw
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Hotter Than Texas | Part I
(unofficially: Brother's Worst Enemy)
Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x F!Reader
Alrighty y'all, this is for everyone who has so patiently waited for me to make this a thing XD Not sure if I could squeeze a whole series out of this one but we shall see. Maybe at least a part 2. Enjoy!
Summary: Bradley Bradshaw is tasked with transporting a not-so-delicate package in the form of Jake Seresin's baby sister, who turns out to be Bradley's dream girl worst nightmare.
Aka it's a road trip, strap in.
CW: swearing, age gap (10 years)
The mission is simple. Collect Seresin Junior from the train station near the main gate of the base and deliver said cargo to the Seresin homestead in Eastern Texas on his way to Atlanta, Georgia for a long overdue visit with his grandparents. It isn’t rocket science. It sure as hell doesn’t hold a candle to the canyon run he pulled off just the other month. And yet, Bradley’s drumming his fingers anxiously on the hood of his Bronco as he leans into its frame, waiting on the trolley from downtown San Diego.
While Jake and Bradley have recently made peace after their longstanding cold war, Bradley isn’t exactly thrilled to meet another one of his kind. Besides, he isn’t one for small talk, and the prospect of spending the next two days with a complete stranger is downright daunting. He prefers music to conversation and he’s hoping that his road trip companion won’t be offended when he turns up the radio and forgets there’s anybody else in the car.
When Hangman had asked for the favor, he assured Bradley that he was his last choice – which wasn’t exactly a compliment, but Bradley appreciated the gesture, nonetheless. By the end of the term, there was nobody from their squadron left on base except Bradley, and he would be heading east anyway, might as well provide shuttle service while he’s at it.
As the trolley whistles into the station, Bradley pushes off his car and straightens his back, watching the tinted windows as they zip by, a blur at first and then gradually separating as the trolley comes to a stop.
Bradley leaves his car to walk around the fence, not quite sure how he’s going to be greeting a person he’s never before seen, but it’s not like he’s going to fashion a sign for the occasion. He sticks his hands into his pockets, the breeze picking up his unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt like a parachute before it starts whipping around his torso in the wind tunnel on the platform.
He glances around at the commuters stepping off the trolley, trying to pick out the blondes that might resemble his colleague, when he feels a tap on his shoulder. He turns his head, just as you say, “Rooster, right?”
He blinks at you, slightly disoriented. You look nothing like Hangman, thank fuck, because Bradley can’t take his eyes off you and, as inappropriate as this reaction is, it would make it that much worse if you did. He gives you a sideways grin. “What gave me away?” he says.
“My brother told me to find the dorkiest guy at the station,” you respond, grinning at him.
Bradley chuckles. “So, you’re walking to Texas, then,” he says, stepping around you.
You laugh, struggling to redirect the wheels of your suitcase.
Bradley bends down to grab the handle. “I can take that,” he says, tucking away the retractable bar and lifting it off the ground by the strap.
“Thanks,” you say, cringing slightly as Bradley lifts the luggage as though you’re embarrassed by its weight.
But after the countless exercise drills over the years, Bradley hardly notices that it’s heavy. In fact, he could probably carry it over his head. He eyes you inconspicuously as you fall in step with him, wondering if perhaps that might impress you – not that he wants to impress you.
“Actually, he said I couldn’t miss you because you’d be a head taller than everyone else, and probably wearing a very bright shirt.”
Bradley looks over at you with a grin. “Hopefully I didn’t disappoint?”
You eye his shirt flapping in the breeze. “I found you, didn’t I?”
Bradley lifts your suitcase into the trunk of his car and walks around to open your door for you.
You give him a suspicious look. “Thanks,” you say.
Bradley nods at you, offering a hand to help you in. Once you’re seated, he shuts the door behind you and exhales unsteadily the kind of sigh that often accompanies a guilty conscience. There’s no way he could possibly get entangled in a mess of this magnitude. And a colossal mess it would become if he were to develop any sort of soft spot for his recent enemy’s baby sister. Bradley, being a sensible, mature adult, understands this unequivocally. But, when he rounds the car and climbs into the driver’s seat next to you, the notion that he’s not allowed under any circumstances to find you attractive flies right out his rolled down window.
This is because you’re already tuning the radio like you own the place and because you smell like a goddess. Bradley has no clue whether it’s your hair or your perfume or your goddamn essence that’s permeated his upholstery in under ten seconds, but whatever it is, he certainly wouldn’t mind smelling it on his sheets in the morning.
Fuck. He’s fucking fucked.
“This alright?” you ask casually, as if you didn’t just hijack a stranger’s radio.
He cringes at the stereo; he’ll have to work on your taste in music. “Got your seatbelt on?” he asks as he pulls out.
You turn around in your seat and pull on the seatbelt.
Bradley promptly hits the breaks and you lurch forward slightly, the seatbelt in your hand getting stuck on its way out. He looks over at you with an air of seriousness despite the small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “The seatbelt should be the first thing you do when you enter a vehicle.” Not fiddle with the radio, he adds silently.
You raise your eyebrows at him in amusement. “Okay, dad.”
Bradley nearly shudders at your response. He’s probably a good ten years older than you, so, really, while dad might be stretching it, you’re not too far off. “Keep up that attitude and you’ll be listening to Metallica the whole way home.”
You smirk at him. “I like Metallica, so joke’s on you, bud.”
Bradley starts driving again. “If you like Metallica, then why are we listening to this trash?”
Your jaw drops and you reach for the volume dial to turn up the song. “How dare you?”
Bradley rolls his eyes. Something tells him he’s in for a wild ride.
…
About two hours later, Bradley pulls into a small gas station just past the border into Arizona.
“Want something to eat?” he asks, leaning across the console to pop his glove compartment and pull out his wallet. “Or drink?”
You purse your lips. “I could go for a coffee.”
“How do you like it?” he asks.
“With a pinch of salt.”
Bradley gapes at you. “I can’t tell if you’re joking.”
You snort. “I’m not joking. You should try it! Cuts the bitterness in half, my friend.”
Bradley cringes. “The bitterness is why I drink it.”
You shake your head and declare wisely, “You’ll see.”
“That you’re a nutcase?” Bradley mutters under his breath as he exits the car. He jogs over to the convenience store, determinedly blocking out the seductive quality of your persuasive tone. You could probably convince him to drink a pint of his own urine if you set your mind to it.
Bradley drums impatiently on the counter, waiting for the clerk to finish restocking one of the shelves with chips. While he’s waiting, he glances out to check on you as if you’re a child under his charge. You’ve stepped out of the Bronco to stretch your legs and Bradley doesn’t like the way the two guys in the convertible in behind are eyeing you.
Bradley cranes his neck to check on the clerk’s progress and lets out a stifled sigh. When he looks back outside, he sees that one of the men has approached you and, well, Bradley isn’t about to wait to see what happens next. He drops a bill on the counter and calls out, “Keep the change,” to the clerk before practically slamming his way through the doors with the coffees in his hands.
Why it bothers him that some random dude might want your number is not of consequence. What matters is that Bradley gets rid of this asswipe before you start enjoying his company.
He strides confidently past the man chatting you up and stops right in between you and him, handing you a coffee.
“Careful, it’s hot,” he cautions moodily, not entirely sure how to go about handling a situation in which, objectively speaking, he has no real authority.
You meet his gaze with a small smile. “You don’t say,” you respond with all the sultriness of a blazing, desert sun.
Bradley’s gaze remains unwaveringly on you as he unhooks a pair of Ray-Bans from the neck of his muscle shirt and slides them over his eyes. “Ready to go?” he asks in a level tone, hoping he can avoid what is bound to be an unpleasant interaction with the man still standing behind him.
“Sorry ‘bout that,” the man speaks up. “Didn’t realize you were with someone, honey.”
Bradley keeps his eyes on yours for several moments longer, trying his best not to show the irritation he feels at the way this rando just called you ‘honey’. Reluctantly, he turns to face him, wondering what in the world he could say that wouldn’t make him sound jealous as fuck.
But before Bradley could speak, you slide casually into his side, leaning on him like it’s the most natural thing. “That’s just fine,” you say to the man. “No harm, no foul.”
Bradley looks down at your head as it nestles into his shoulder and then lifts his arm to let you move in closer. Trying to play it cool, he skims the tips of his fingers across your lower back, which is warm and feels like the perfect place to rest his hand.
Convertible guy promptly departs, and Bradley is left standing in an embrace with the one person on the entire planet for whom he should never catch feelings, at a derelict gas station on the outskirts of arid Yuma, Arizona, and the heat is really starting to get to him. Slowly, you start to peel yourself away and Bradley, sensing your withdrawal, drops his hand and recoils from you like you’ve burnt him.
Did it feel nice pretending you were his girl? Sure did. Is he going to erase it from his memory and never let himself so much as shake your hand again? Absolutely.
Read Part 2
Tag List
I’ll be tagging the rest in the comments probably tomorrow!
@joaquinwhorres
@katiemcrae
@sehnsuchts-trunken
@toomuchfluffs
@wintercap89
@lonelywitchv2
@callsign-jupiter
@rosiahills22
@olliepig
@coffeeaddictedmay
@boringusername3
@ratedtvpg
@mak-32
@annedub
@jules-1999
@black--lightning
@j-velvet
@xoxabs88xox
@cyanide-cryptid
@callsignvenus
@artemissunn
@gcldtom
@atarmychick007
@callsign-sunshine
@shanimallina87
@birdy-bat-writes
@wkndwlff
@chaosmxlcolm
@iminlovewithenchilidadas
@daniibzz
@avis15
@valhallavalkyrie9
@ijustwantedplums
@hal3ynicol3
@avengersfan25
@hallecarey1
@nik2blog
@kpopgirlbtssvt
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@lovingperfectionsblog
@bblpbb
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@SometimesAnAlice
@risingtripletaurus
@adaydreamaway08
@mattyskies
@desert-fern
@catsandbooksandstuff
@Topguncultleader
@avengers-fixation
#bradley bradshaw#rooster#bradley rooster bradshaw#top gun#miles teller#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw x you#rooster bradshaw#top gun maverick#rooster x reader#rooster top gun#rooster x you#rooster fanfiction#rooster fic#rooster fluff#bradley bradshaw imagine#bradley bradshaw fanfiction#bradley bradshaw fic#bradley bradshaw x female reader#top gun fanfiction
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Basically a Velociraptor
Made this watercolor painting based off my little chicken warriors, original is already sold, but I will be making a limited run of prints, stickers, and potentially buttons... Maybe a handful of mugs xD I know I want a mug of it >:O
Posted using PostyBirb
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“…Ladies.”
Based on a photo of my husband’s bantam Cochin, Lucky.
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chickens really can fly
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Personal Space
Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x reader
Summary: you love your personal space. Unfortunately, Bradley also loves your personal space.
You never understood why Bradley stuck around. Since the academy you’d preferred to stick to yourself; get your head down and get the job done. Especially with a surname like Mitchell. You didn’t want your father and grandfather’s reputation to negatively proceed you, and by the time people had put two and two together as to whom loins you came from: you’d made your own reputation so Maverick never made much of a difference to it.
But still, having dinner in the mess you’d sat down, when someone came and thudded down next to you and began eating themselves. “I’m Bradley” he said when you finally looked up at him. You raised a brow “Bradshaw?” You ask and he nods: you recognise him from the photos your dad pinned up in your two’s hanger. You hum “and you are?” He asks “not important.” You reply, deciding you’d lost your appetite and stood to clear your plate “good talk!” Bradley said, but you were already walking away.
He’d next encountered you when you were running around the academy, early morning; before any naval training would take place. He hummed and decided it was perfectly acceptable to interrupt your jaunt with his presence. “Hey! Up so early?” He asks as he tries to match your pace from a standstill “could ask you the same.” You reply bluntly “well I wanted to get a run in before-” “well there’s your answer.” You reply, cutting him off. “You run really quick.” He says as you try to keep your pace increasing to shake him off “goodbye, Bradshaw.” You say, pulling your sunglasses over your eyes and taking off at a pace he couldn’t sustain. He just stops and shakes his head smiling, you were funny.
Eventually, you’d both gotten up in the air and were quick to earn your callsigns “Rooster” and “Hen”. Bradley earned his because he was up before the chickens, you’d earned yours because the chicken kept fucking following you around like you were his mother. You were sat on the aircraft carrier, your trainee group learning how to land on a ship deck and you’d finally gotten a moment of peace that evening. You sat on the edge of the deck, feet dangling over the edge as you watched the sunset, not moving when you hear someone slip into the space between the barriers beside you.
“Oh look my chick is back.” You mumble sarcastically and Bradley laughs loudly at you. “You love me really” he says, looking at you as if he wanted to you agree with him “you seem to keep telling yourself that, don’t you?” You hum, turning to watch the sea lap against the grey metal. You can feel him fidgeting beside you, as if antsy to say something. “What?” You ask, finally turning to look at him. “What?” He repeats, looking at you with raised brows “you want to ask me something. You’re fidgeting.” You point out “so ask me or fuck off” you say, turning away again. “Your last name is Mitchell” he says and you roll your eyes “you can read and hear. Two things I’ve learnt today.” You huff, again, with sarcasm. “Are you related to Pete Mitchell?” He asks, looking at you and nearly holding his breath “you finally put two and two together?” You ask and he lets out the breath.
“Yeah, he’s my dad.” You say after a while “I was a whoopsie baby my mother didn’t want anything to do with” you tell him. “He used to fly with my dad.” Bradley almost whispers, voice just a few octaves above. “I know” you nod “he’s practically wallpapered all over our hanger.” You say “so are you” you eye him. “He pulled my papers” he says, again after a few moments of silence “I know” you say “do you know why?” He asks “yes.” You reply, and he could tell you weren’t going to elaborate. “Y’know I’m not a fan of your dad, but I really like you.” He says and you just look at him with a blank face. “Yup” you hum to yourself and he raises a brow “just as Mother Goose was described” you say, and Bradley’s face immediately lights up with a huge grin, stretching and arm around you and pulling you into his side.
“Get off me.” “Yup, yep, sorry.”
For your first deployment, the academy set it up that you’d at least be with one person from your training squadron, and today the list of names were coming out; they were scribbled on the back of a napkin and pinned to a notice board.
“1. Haywood & Solomons, 2. Hughes & Shelley & Omaha, 3. Cooper & Parker & Cromwell & Smith, 4. Bradshaw,” you crossed your fingers as someone read out the names, then yours was read alongside Bradley’s “oh for god’s sake” you grumble, turning to see Bradley practically jumping for joy. “This is great! Me and you, Hen!” Rooster cheers and you just stare at him “should’ve called you leech cause you’re acting like one. Calm down.” You instruct and he tries to chill out, but the cheeky smile on his face was indiminishagble.
He only became more unbearable then, with you every working hour, your wingman on the missions you’d fly, inseparable despite your complaints. “Where’s your boyfriend?” Hawk asked you, as he came to sit with you for lunch. You shush him loudly. “Woah woah I only asked where he was.” “Speak his name and he shows up. I’m trying to hide.” you say in a hushed voice “plus he isn’t my boyfriend” “sure” he scoffs but the daggers being shot into his head silenced him easily.
“Hey Hen! Hawk” Bradley greets as he sits down. You grunt and point an accusatory finger at Hawk “this is your fault, jackass” you say and he laughs at you, him and Bradley engage in conversation as you just eat, having learnt the skill of drowning him out. “What about you, Hen?” Hawk asked, drawing your attention away from your plate and up to the two men alongside you, you raise an eyebrow - letting them know you were insinuating that you weren’t listening to their conversation.
“Do you want a family?” He ask and you just nod “really?” Hawk asks “that’s cute, didn’t take you for a family gal” he jokes and you harshly kick his leg under the table “kids and everything?” He asks after the pain subsides. “Yup.” You say and Bradley hums “I didn’t know that” he says and you just look at him “you never asked.” You reply simply, and that was true: he hadn’t. He was quite prepared to spend the rest of existence chasing after you, whether that meant giving you your first kiss on your deathbeds.
The two of you even went to Top Gun together, training to be the finest naval aviators of them all. And boy, you two fought to be the best; tongue and teeth, blood sweat and tears, everything. The decision came down to one final dogfight. “May the best aviator win” Rooster jokes, sticking out a hand to you. You eye it and internally question if you were insane, before leaning up to peck his cheek. “Prepare to loose, chicken.” You say, leaving him frozen in his place while you head to your plane. That day, Bradley was seriously off his A-game, and you came out on top.
A Mitchell finally Top Gun.
“Congratulations!” Bradley says excitedly on graduation day when you victoriously lifted the trophy above your head. You turned to him and he leant down slightly - you weren’t stupid, you knew what he was intending to do. “Thank you, Brad.” You say, turning to walk over to where your father was stood - knowing that was probably the only time Bradley wouldn’t follow you. That was the first time you’d ever called him anything short of Bradley Bradshaw.
“I’m so proud of you honey” your dad says, hugging you tightly and you embrace him back, smiling widely “thank you, dad” you respond and he looks behind you where Bradley was stood a while back, watching the ordeal. “Is that-” “yes” you tell him and your dad just looks at you “I wouldn’t get all teary he follows me like a lost puppy” you grumble but he just grins “he’s a good kid, hon.” He says and you shake your head “he’s definitely something”
“So how does their relationship work?” Bob asks Hangman, watching Bradley talk your ear off and you just staring ahead into space, blankly. “You see Bobby my boy,” Jake begins “Hen loves her personal space” Bob nods “Rooster also loves Hen’s personal space.” Bob nods again, now understanding. “Haven’t they done everything together though?” He asks “I think it’s more the fact that Hen does something and Rooster just kinda goes with it” Phoenix said and Bob hums, as Bradley continues to converse one-sidedly with you.
“He means well” you hear from beside you as you stare out from the hanger, turning to see your honorary uncle Tom walking towards you, you run towards him as he embraces you tightly “hey Ice” you smile, sweetly. “Hey sweetheart” he croaks. “I mean what I said.” He states and you raise a brow “he means well” he nods towards the man doing his required push ups on the ground with Hondo. “I know, Ice.” You tell him. “No, I don’t think you do” he hums and you raise your eyebrows at him. “The kids in love with you. You’ve either got to let him in or tell him to get out.” He says, “you’re living together for goodness sake”. “It was cheaper” you argue “we both know the accommodation is subsidised.” He states, matter-of-factly, patting your shoulder as he turns to go talk to your dad when he walks into the room.
It was true, you and Bradley were sharing accommodation. “Hey Hen, they’ve offered us shared accommodation back in Miramar” Bradley says, coming over with a pamphlet. “Why?” You ask, taking it out of his hands. ‘Married couple accommodation’ it states and you raise your brows “you getting ahead of yourself, Bradshaw?” You ask and he shakes his head “the guy assumed our callsigns were cause we’re a couple” he tells you and you just hum. “Well I’d rather stay there than in an apartment.” You say simply, giving him back the leaflet and refocusing on the plane you were working on repairing. “Seriously?” He asks, voice overly hopeful. You look at him and shrug “just go get the damn house, Bradshaw. Before I change my mind!” You say and he grins, turning and breaking out into almost a jog to head to confirm your living situation.
You take a moment of hesitation, before loudly groaning and heading out onto the tarmac, getting down and doing push ups alongside Rooster. He turns his head and looks at you and you just raise your brows at him. “Hey honey” he grins “hello Bradley” he nudges your hip with his own. “I’ll drive us home.” You tell him, and he raises his eyebrows “Home?” He asks and you huff “okay, Bradley I will drive the two of us back to our shared accommodation that we accidentally got given.” You say and he laughs loudly “home sounded better.”
Then after the mission, the whole Dagger squad got permanently stationed in San Diego, other than deployment, so they urged the new additions to the base to buy their own properties closer to base rather than on it. You and Bradley were sat in the Hard Deck, a long time before it was open, the rest of the Daggers spending time on the beach while the two of you were scouring Bradley’s laptop for a property. Well, Bradley was.
How about this one? He turns his screen to you. You shake your head “I want grass in the garden. I want to plant flowers” you say as you point at the paved back of the house, explaining that it’s a waste of money to have it ripped out. Bradley nods “Mkay, garden” he says, moving back to look again.
“How about this one? Beach front, close to the running track for you. Only a walk from the Hard Deck. White picket fence, really” he hums, turning the laptop again “garden?” You ask and he nods “garden.” He nods with a grin. “Shall we go look?” You ask and he raises a brow at you. “You said it’s a walk from the hard deck. Let’s go.” You say, putting the address into your phone and immediately recognising the street name, Bradley quickly falling into step with you as you walk towards the property.
You look at it and place your hands on your hips. Bradley was right. Pretty damn perfect. “Can I help you?” A lady asks, walking outside of the house, clipboard in hand. “Oh no, we’d just seen this property online and wanted to take a look.” Bradley tells her. “Well I’ve had a no-show on a viewing. How’d you like to take a look?” She suggests, motioning to the open door. “Okay” you nod, following her into the house.
“Obviously the kitchen, living room, even a deck out back with a huge garden and high fences” she says nodding out the window and you hum. “Out the side there’s an entrance straight to the beach” she motions, then starts heading up the stairs “three bedrooms, attic space, bathroom” she says “I’m guessing it’s just you two at the moment?” She asks “oh we’re not-” Bradley begins “yes, just us.” You confirm, shutting him up. “Okay, so there’s a large room for your bed and then if any new additions are to join, you have the space for them” she smiles and leads you back out front.
“It’s not cheap, it’s California. So I understand if you’re not prepared to pay that much money, do you mind me asking what you do?” She asks “we’re naval aviators.” Bradley says “stationed here?” She asks and you both nod “ah! I get why you’re looking for a property here!” She says and Bradley looks at you. “I really like it, Roo.” You say, and Bradley has to stop his jaw hitting the floor at your nickname. “It’s your call, honey” he says and you look at the lady and smile as she offers her hand “we’ll take it.”
“How shall we split the payment?” You ask Bradley as you walk back to the Hard Deck after organising a meeting with the realtor to actually finalise all the kinks and bumps. “I don’t mind doing the down payment then we’ll take it in turn paying the loan” he suggests “we can get a joint bank account and do it that way” you say and he agrees as you settle back into your seats at the Hard Deck. “Where’ve you two been?” Hangman asks “we bought a house.”
One evening, after you were all moved in and were hanging out at the Hard Deck after a long day or routine flying, you were sat outside with Rooster; watching the sunset. “When are we getting married then?” You ask and he spits out his beer “what?” He asks, eyes wide and getting progressively more giddy. “Well we live together, we have a joint bank account, and Jake keeps telling me we’re practically married. So when are we getting married?” You ask as he hugs you tightly “whenever you want, baby” he says, kissing the top of your head and pulling a ring out of his pocket to get on his knee. “Will you marry me?” He asks and you raise a brow “didn’t I just say that?” You ask bluntly “just say yes, please” he begs and you nod “yes. Yes I will marry you, Bradley Bradshaw.” You confirm as he kisses your lips gently.
“Okay get off of me now.”
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