PLEASE CONSIDER firefighter!rooster and reader who works at the gym he uses. Just oggling him from the front desk and taking extra long to get fresh towels in his area just to watch as he becomes a sweaty mess :) like you know that man could throw them around!!!
@jupitercomet is this you?
nonny, I love this so much. I've wanted to write a fic just like this, with OG!Rooster (I'm leaving the gorgeous Rooster!Firefighter AU thots to my friends who are so sexily writing him). But can you imagine Rooster at your gym. He knows from the second, the SECOND you sign him in on your shift that you're BESOTTED.
So he puts on a show. Because he can, because he's Rooster. Whether it's a cardio day, weights (arms days are ridiculous, bench press is his bitch and curls are all about muscles, veins and sweat dripping from him - notroosterbradshaw's hubby at the gym is currently inspo for gym!Rooster and it's a fuckin' gun show all day every day) -
Watching sweat drip from his forehead or chin is what dreams are made of and you're so thankful this is your job. But he lives in the gym. AM before he's due on the tarmac, PM after a hard day in the air with simulations, it doesn't matter... he's there.
And when he brings his friends in, it's a treat to see them spot each other, the blonde one struts around half-dressed, more abs than you imagined possible and the girl? She holds her own with the boys and they wouldn’t dare make a lewd comment. She holds the power, and they do not deny that.
The days he showers there and he reappears with mussed tendrils, or strutting out with sweat-drenched clothes? One and the same and you're turned on, finding yourself touching yourself in those intimate alone time hours. It's Rooster Bradshaw, it's all for Rooster Bradshaw.
He's the fantasy. He's the one you want... but he already knew that. And he does what he can to make you feel like you're the only person he's there for.
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I have a thought that’s been playing in my head for the past few days. Maybe rooster finds out he’s gonna be a dad w/ reader and on the outside he’s thrilled but on the inside he’s terrified. He doesn’t sleep since finding out and one morning before the sun even rises he hears footsteps come out onto the covered deck behind him, and reader is wrapped up in a little blanket, but it’s raining and cold so of course he’s like, “go inside, you’ll catch a cold, you’re pregnant are you crazy?” And of course the reader knows he’s got something going on so while it’s like early morning raining they sit on the porch and talk about it and rooster feels so much more confident about being a good dad. I just have feels about that and idk if I explained my thots well? 🥹 if you’d be interested in elaborating on this I would love that? 💕
Here’s a wee drabble, nonny x
“Ew, rain,” you mutter, coming to sit with Rooster as he sat on the porch swing. Not what you signed up for when you made your way across the country to live your life with Bradley in San Diego. “Looks like it’s settling in,” you took his hand and tenderly kissed his knuckles.
“Looks like,” he agreed quietly. God, you hated when he internalised like this. He wasn’t great with his emotions at the best of times, but when he took his space, you knew he wasn’t processing your news.
“Talk to me, sweetheart,” you said softly.
“Anything,” he admitted, not meeting your eyes.
“I know it’s scaring at you," you said softly. He noticed your free hand gently rubbing the non-existant bump of where his baby was starting to grow within you.
"No, baby," he lied. He blatantly lied to you, and sadly for him, you were so schooled in the wiles of Bradley Bradshaw and he was so transparent at times. "I’m okay."
"You're internalising, sweetheart. I know you."
He sighed. "Baby," he tried, turning to face you. He watched you shiver as the light drizzle started to cover you. "Baby... come here," he wrapped you protectively in his strong arms.
"Do you not... want the baby?" you asked, the fear in your voice that something you were sure you were both ready for (you'd had the birth control discussion, and he was very excited about that part, you'd had the baby discussion, he was just as excited about that too. Sure, it happened fast... but there was a lot of practice and wasn't that a good thing?).
"Oh, baby. Yes, I do, so so much," he said, his heart falling that you were upset now too. "I am so happy that we're having this baby," he desperately tried to reassure you. He turned you to face him and held your face, the tears threatening to fall from your beautiful eyes - the eyes he hoped your beautiful baby may share too. "I can't believe you're going to make me a father. That is the most amazing thing you could ever do for me. This is the biggest thing we will ever do together.”
"Then why are you being so... quiet? Reclusive?"
"I'm scared," he said simply, the shrug that joined his statement so limp. He couldn't meet your eyes and stared hard at the rain before you. You could see his disappointment oozing off himself and your heart ached. "I am so scared I'm going to be such a bad father. Goose wasn't around... and then I lost him. I hardly remember him anymore. I don't know what a father is supposed to do, act..."
"Oh, Bradley," your tears finally fell. "You are going to be the most wonderful father. I understand why you might be scared. Trust me, I am terrified too. We can be duly terrified together."
His face softened. "What? How could you possibly be scared?"
"Well, we're about to have this baby together and it's not like your job isn't a massive risk. I'm really scared to do it on my own and you're away so often - but there is no doubt in my mind, Bradley Bradshaw, that we are going to be amazing parents. Gimme your hand," you gently linked fingers and placed his big, strong hand under the tee you wore. "That's our baby. And it's going to be a massive learning curve. But I know one thing is for sure. You are going to be a magnificent father, Bradley."
"You think?" he said finally, his hand carefully rubbing against your soft skin. He lowered his face and rested his forehead in the crease of your shoulder, he breathed you in, letting your sweet scent surround him and centre him. “Believe me, I’m so excited, baby. I’m just so scared.”
“Trust your intuition, sweetheart. You do it every day.”
He reached up to kiss you. “I know I will be a great dad…” he said, hopeful.
"You will be a beautiful father. Just have a little faith in yourself. You’ve got time to get your head around this.”
“I don’t want to disappoint you, baby.”
You moved and caressed his face, your thumb tracing the edge of his moustache, and he reached to try and catch you with his lips. “You could never ever disappoint me, Bradley Bradshaw.”
horny, uncomfy period hours thinkin’ about laying in bed snuggling Bradley and how warm he is… how soft his golden skin is and the last remnants of the day’s cologne filling your senses.
laying on his chest while you doze and big, warm palms on your belly or lower lack, soothing you while he tries not to snooze, but failing after he says he can’t remember the last time he had an afternoon nap -
but imagine meeting Bradley at puppy school. a puppy school meet cute.
He never considered adopting a puppy, all paws, playful growls and yips, and you can tell he's in over his head immediately, but the pup looks at him with heart eyes, desperate to please him. You’re there too, struggling with your young pup.
He's a few feet away and cooing to his pup to please, please heel. And of course, you notice he’s absolutely gorgeous but you’re deadset on focusing on your pup who needs you and you're desperate to find ways to save more bite marks and scratches from your couch.
You're lying to admit you are going out of your way to avoid his warm hazel eyes as he watches you struggle with your pup fondly. His eyes dance, and it is distracting you to your core. He is incredibly good looking and you’re very surprised he’s not here with his partner because if he’s not locked down, you’d be very, very surprised.
He's chuckling quietly as you're wrapped up in your pup's leash and you want the floor to swallow you up, but you're far too wrangled at this point. You gave him a meek smile as you untangled yourself.
“Now for some socialisation,” the trainer announces towards the end of a session that has been frustrating at best. They call upon you and Bradley first from the small group while you’re directed to let pups greet each other face-to-face (snout-to-snout) for a few seconds. It's polite, it's adorable as your pup shies away from his.
He gives you a gentle smile as he tries and fails to restrain his pup from trying to wrestle with yours. “I’m so sorry,” he apologises as you carefully pet your pup to reassure and calm him. “This is Archibald - or Archie.”
You give him a half smile as the pups start behaving and letting them boop noses for a few seconds and give him your pup’s name before they start wrestling again, but the sweet hello between the pups goes well as you pry them apart again. "That's a very formal name."
He actually laughs. "Well, I usually go by a nickname a' sorts most of the time. Something cute - or dog-like - didn't seem fair when I already had the ridiculous name."
"What's your nickname?" you asked, and immediately he grins and you feel like you've walked right into his little plan. You're incredibly impressed and fairly mortified with his gusto... he's so smooth, and you are endeared by him immediately. He could break your heart into a million pieces and he probably knows it too.
"My callsign is Rooster," he said. Ahh, a flyboy. Of course. He definitely could break your heart. "I'm Bradley," he gripped the leash in his hand and offers your his spare. "And you are..."
You tell him your name as your hand slips delicately into his and his palm is so, so warm and big, you don't want to let go.
"Nice to meet you both," he smiled gently as the pups needed to be gently pried apart again and you go back to your spot, quietly asking your pup to sit and pleased when he does so. But you can feel Bradley’s gaze radiating in your direction.
Tidying up your stash of puppy training gear after the session, Bradley asks if you enjoyed the class and you'd be lying if you said no. He'd certainly made it more interesting even if you got less out of it than planned. He's happy with your answer, and when he asks you for coffee or maybe a puppy playdate sometime, you can't fight it and say yes far too quickly.
You are floating home, and as he watches you leave, he rubs Archie's ears and whispers gently, "Didn't expect that today," he calls for a high five and Archie immediately raises his paw as Bradley chuckles. "Yes, good work, bud," and he rewards him with a treat.
A/N: the tag list no longer exists. To keep up to date, give @notroosterbradshaw-library a follow x
dad Bradley just calling you mama as soon as you're pregnant. and then it just carries over forever.
"hot mama!"
"gimme some sugar, mama."
"let's give mama a hug so she feels better, huh?"
literally an army of little Bradshaw Babies that follow their fathers every word and are all obviously obsessed w you bc their dad is, too.
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also i'm so sorry you're going through it right now!! sending ALL the love!!
Now you listen here, Millie - I was not prepared for this, but I am wholeheartedly here for it, the softest boi. I have used this in my fics and I will continue to do it because this is canon and I refuse to believe that it isn't. Thank you for reminding me how sexy this is. Example after the cut!
Send me your Rooster thots!
“I hate that I’ve missed all of this…” he said miserably as you carefully put the phone over your two-month-old daughter’s crib. “I just can’t wait to meet her.”
“I know,” you said quietly, not wanting to wake her, your tenderly sleeping babe. You gently brushed a tuft of hair from her forehead. “She can’t wait to meet her Daddy either.”
He sighed. “Fuck. I gotta go. Can you please give me two more weeks, Momma?” he begged as you looked back at him and could see the tears in his eyes, threatening to spill. Because if this was hard for you, it was a fuckload worse for him. “Please?” his voice watery.
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my favorite Rooster thot: being close friends and he’s so very stressed so you offer to help him relax. he accepts thinking you mean rubbing his neck while you’re dropping down to your knees. there’s a moment where you both freeze and then he’s like “okay. okay. yes. this isn’t where I thought you were going but yes. please please please.” you then proceed to help him relax, he’s practically boneless by the time you’re done sucking him off. his big, thick thighs covered in bite marks and bruises the only evidence of you being down there. he’s still out of it when you join him back on the couch, brushing kisses against his temple while he catches his breath. “give me a second and I’ll get you too.” you smile and tell him that’s not necessary, you just wanted to help him out. “oh sweetheart, eating you out is going to help me relax even more trust me.” and well, who are you to deny something that will help your friend relax?
<3 @callsignspark
I, uhh - I'm actually speechless and that just never happens, Elle. This is super hot. It would certainly affect your friendship hehe I'm actually so onboard with this and I know I am not alone!
If someone writes this or has written this, please link me ASAP because I am on flipping fire.
Hi can we get rooster being extremely touchy feely when he sees you and can’t stop kissing you and rubbing his on your waist and back, basically soft Rooster wanting to be with you?
I had a headcanon that when you're Rooster's girl, it's not a secret. He doesn't grandstand around you, he doesn't have to. He won't dedicate songs to you at The Hard Deck, but people know because of his softness.
He moves from his seat and guides you to it immediately. Or if it's standing room, his strong arms loop around your waist, his warm palm resting on your hip, grasping and drifting his fingers against your tender curves. He might plant the occasional kiss on your forehead before falling victim to darts with Jake, you lips after you've taken a sip of that sickly sweet cocktail he's not fond of but enjoys the taste on your lips. He's a hand holder, he will always reach his palm out for you, his long fingers lacing through your hand and lead you protectively through the masses.
But behind closed doors? Turn it up by about a million because the politeness fades and the need increases -
