#bradley bradshaw fic
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The Younger Kind Part 60 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Your bachelorette outing and Bradley's bachelor party are both hosted by the same person, but they couldn't be more different. Spending an evening at home with Noah is reminiscent of your babysitting days, but now he's asking you some pertinent questions.
Warnings: pregnancy topics, swearing, smut, drinking, angst, fluff, and age gap (18+)
Length: 4500 words
Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader
Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.
Natasha was outside in her SUV on the driveway, ready to pick you up for your bachelorette outing. You refused to call it a bachelorette party since it was just the two of you going out for the evening, but Bradley made sure his best friend knew to spare no expense when it came to anything you wanted.
"It's just pedicures and pottery," you whispered against Bradley's lips with a smile as he held you close so he could feel your round belly against his body. "I'll be home in a few hours."
He grunted softly, kissing you a little deeper before releasing your lips. "We'll still miss you," he murmured, letting his hands roam along your hips while Noah sat on the area rug and worked on one of the new coloring books you picked up for him. "And don't overdo it." When Natasha started honking her horn, he let his forehead rest on your shoulder. "She's the worst."
You just laughed and kissed his cheek as you said, "She's the best, and you know it, Daddy."
It would have been impossible to dispute that fact. She was the one who took care of you when Bradley wasn't stateside. "Go have fun."
"Bye, Mommy!" Noah said, popping up to give you a hug when Bradley released you. He scooped his son up since he didn't want you lifting anything, and you gave Noah a kiss on the forehead.
"Have fun with Daddy," you told him, kissing him once more before heading outside to Nat's idling SUV.
Bradley stood on the porch with Noah and waved until you were out of sight, and then Noah asked, "Can we get Mommy a coloring book?"
"Hey," Bradley said, nudging the door open while also making sure Skittles didn't get outside without her leash on. "That's a great idea, Bub. Maybe a Princess coloring book? You can give it to her for the wedding?"
His son looked so much like a tiny version of himself, and he had to stifle his laughter as Noah nodded stoically and said, "Yeah, she'd like that. I have so many great ideas."
Bradley took him back inside, and they ended up stretched out on the floor together. Noah continued with his masterpiece while Bradley started searching for options on his phone. After a few minutes, he found an independent shop that made coloring books with different themes based on photos that you send to them. "Do you like this?" he asked his son, holding up his phone.
Noah looked at the sample pages as Bradley scrolled through them. He nodded and said, "Mommy is prettier than that."
"She absolutely is," Bradley replied as he realized the wedding was in a week and didn't know if a custom book could even be completed in that short amount of time. "Let me see if we can get something like this for her. If not, we can always save it for her birthday."
His son started to pout at the mere mention of having to wait longer for it, so Bradley started typing up a message to the owner of the shop, hoping that he'd be able to explain that it was for his wedding. Once that was done, he checked the time and asked, "Do you need a snack before dinner?"
"Ants on logs," Noah replied without missing a beat. Bradley had no problem with the healthy snacks you somehow tricked the two of them into eating, but he was always told he never got the peanut butter proportions right.
"Yeah, okay. I can try to make them the way you like-"
"Mommy left some in the fridge."
Bradley chuckled as he stood up, coaxing Noah to abandon his coloring project for the time being. "Of course she did. She's the best." Somehow even when you weren't here, you had everything covered.
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"Okay, so if you could ditch Bradley and marry a celebrity, who would you pick?"
You burst out laughing in the pedicure chair next to Natasha with your hands resting on the roundest part of your belly. "Who said I would? Even if I could?" She gave you a look followed by an eye roll before you said, "You'll laugh at me, so I don't even want to say my answer."
"Just say it," she prompted as you dragged your foot through the warm water.
You groaned and said, "I like all the older, DILF-y actors."
Natasha started cackling as you covered your eyes with your hands. "You have a type!" she said amidst her laughter. "And your type is Rooster!"
You thought back to all the time you wasted with Greyson and other guys your age and grimaced. "I don't think that was always my type. It's a more recent development, and I'm not mad about it." You moved your hand on your belly and added, "Boy suck. Men are at least marginally better."
"Well," she said, leaning a little closer to you like she had a secret. "You found a good one. Or rather, I kind of found you for him. But regardless, he's a keeper. Kind of because he has Noah."
"Mostly because he has Noah," you told her, and then both of you were laughing.
After your nails were painted a vibrant purple, Natasha took you out for dinner and let you eat until you were full. You could tell your body and appetite were changing by the day, but you refused to feel self conscious about it in front of her. The two of you were sharing a slice of cake for dessert when you said, "He really did plan almost everything for the wedding. All I did was help him pick out matching suits for him and Noah to wear. And I picked out some flowers and my dress, but that's it."
Natasha hummed as she took another forkful of dessert. "I'm telling you, he'll always be good like that. He's a planner. Very responsible."
You felt silly telling her what was on your mind, but you said it anyway. "He pays my credit card bill. Not that I spend a lot! I try not to! I usually just buy groceries and things for Noah." She nodded like your words weren't as startling as you thought they were. "I kind of wanted to surprise him as a thank you, but if I buy something, he'll see it on the credit card statement."
Maybe you should have been wary of the smirk that found its way to her lips when Natasha said, "What if I rally the boys one night this week and take him out for a little bachelor party?"
"Oh," you said softly. "You'd do that? Just something lowkey?"
"Super lowkey," she agreed with a nod.
You could easily imagine them going to Top Golf or out for some drinks. "I think he might really like that."
"Or.... and just hear me out," she said, holding up her hands innocently after handing her credit card to the waiter. "Or, you let me absolutely roast him for the night."
You studied her face; how bad could it be? She was Bradley's best friend after all. Even if she was giving him a hard time, she'd probably make it fun. "What did you have in mind?" you asked as the two of you left the restaurant and headed for the pottery boutique down the block.
"A few things I'm going to need your approval for," she replied casually. And while you worked on making yourself a mug that said Noah's Mommy, you listened to Natasha's not-so-lowkey plans for Thursday night. By the time your mug actually looked like a mug, you gave her full approval.
"I almost feel bad about this," you told her with a laugh.
"I don't."
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The following evening after Noah was in bed, Bradley set you up for a nice shower while he cleaned up the kitchen from the chicken enchiladas you made for dinner. When Nat called him, he held his phone to his shoulder with his cheek and kept working.
He answered the call and asked, "Hey, what's up?"
"Your bachelor party with me and the guys starts at six o'clock on Thursday evening."
He laughed in response. "It's funny that this is the first time I'm hearing about it."
Bradley could practically feel her rolling her eyes through the phone. "Just be ready to go."
"Ready for what?" he asked, knowing better than to just trust her with this. The dating app was one thing, and that had turned out great in the end, but he wasn't going to blindly go with her on this.
"Uhhh... just some stuff."
"Natasha."
"Bradley."
"What did you do?"
There was a brief pause before she said, "Just be ready for dinner, booze and some strippers."
With a deep sigh, Bradley closed his eyes and said, "I'm going to have to check with my wife-to-be about the strippers, Nat." You had to know by now that you had nothing to worry about, and he wasn't even all that keen on going to a strip club, but he didn't want you to be upset.
"She knows the plan."
He froze as he loaded the dishwasher. "She does?"
Natasha laughed, and Bradley swore he felt his skin crawl. "She does. Be ready for six o'clock on Thursday."
"We have work on Friday-"
She already ended the call. Bradley finished cleaning up when he heard you getting out of the shower. "God damn it, Nat," he muttered as he turned off the kitchen lights and made his way back to the bedroom where you were all wrapped up in a towel.
"Hi, Daddy."
He groaned at your words and your little smirk. "Hey, Baby. Can we talk for a minute?"
Your eyebrows shot up as you held your towel around you a little tighter. "What's wrong? Is it something about the wedding? Did the marriage license not go through? We only have six days."
"No, no," he promised, reaching for you. "It's not that. It's... I just got off the phone. With Nat."
You looked relieved as you leaned against him. "Good. I was worried for a second."
Bradley didn't quite know how to approach this topic now that he was here. Natasha would be as tenacious as a junkyard dog about her plans, so he had to say something. "You don't have anything to worry about."
You laughed softly. "That sounds nice."
He cleared his throat and said, "Nat called about my bachelor party night?"
It came out more like a question than a statement, but you just nodded and said, "Dinner and drinks and the strip club."
"Yeah," he rasped. "You approved this whole thing?"
"Mmhmm. To be fair, it was all her idea. I just told her it was okay."
Bradley tipped your chin so you were looking up at him, your face fresh and perfect after your shower. "If this plan is not okay with you, then I'm not going."
"It's okay with me," you replied easily. "I trust you."
He studied your face. "I feel like I'm going to end up babysitting everyone on a work night. Two days before the wedding."
You snorted in response. "You'll have fun. And so will everyone else. You should go."
"Yeah, I'm going," he groaned. "Nat will just have the guys drag me out if I don't go willingly. But I don't really care about looking at strippers. I got you and your perfect tits right here at home."
You didn't stop him when he slowly tugged your towel from your fingers and pulled it open. And yeah, your tits looked perfect, but so did the swell of your pregnant belly and your soft skin. He was hard as soon as the towel hit the floor.
"Daddy," you whined softly, shivering in his arms. It was December, and the nights were chilly in San Diego; you had taken to snuggling with him even more than usual in your sleep. "Now you need to warm me up."
"My pleasure," he replied, scooping you up and dropping you carefully onto the king sized bed that you picked out for the room. "Let me start right here," he whispered before he kissed you softly, covering your body gently with his. "Feeling warmer?"
You shifted beneath him, spreading your legs wider so he was nestled against your pussy, his cock straining against his jeans zipper. "A little bit," you whispered innocently.
Bradley smirked, and when he brought his hand up to stroke your breast, he said, "I told you, I got these perfect tits right here."
"Bradley," you giggled as his fingers skimmed along your skin, but when he stroked his thumb across your tightly furled nipple, you arched your back and made a raspy gasping sound. Your eyes went wide as you looked up at him. "Oh my god," you moaned.
"Are you okay?" he asked, pulling his hand away, but you were already nodding vigorously.
"It felt really good." The words rushed right from your lips as you rolled your hips up to meet his. "Different, I guess. I can't explain it."
When he rubbed your nipple between his thumb and index finger, he smirked. You were instantly squirming and moaning, reaching for his zipper with one hand and his hair with the other. Your eyes were wild even though he was being gentle, and he dipped his head down to whisper in your ear. "You're extra sensitive right now. It's the pregnancy hormones." He plucked and stroked as you started panting. "God damn, Princess. You like that?"
"Yes!" Your voice already sounded broken, and he'd barely touched you.
"Shh. Keep quiet like a good girl." But his words and hand seemed to have the opposite effect on you, because you just got louder. Bradley reached down to where you had his cock free from his zipper and pulled your hand up to his lips. He kissed your fingers before shoving them a little rough into your mouth. "You have to be quiet if you want me to play with you."
You moaned around your own fingers but nodded your head, and at least you were quieter now as Bradley kissed his way from your neck down to your tits. He didn't know how he was going to manage you when there were two kids in the house trying to sleep, but at the moment, he didn't really care. You were going to be his wife in a few short days. That thought alone had him bucking his cock against the bedding as he ran his mustache along your peaked nipple, inhaling your wildflower scent.
When he pulled your nipple into his mouth and sucked, he could tell your breasts were already a little bit bigger than before. Soon you'd be bigger everywhere. Getting even more sensitive by the day. He was painfully hard right now, listening to your muffled screams and tasting you. He licked and sucked until your tits were both damp from his mouth and overstimulated from his mustache.
When you started bucking up, Bradley eased his hand down to cup your pussy and found that you were soaked. He couldn't remember Meredith getting quite like this as he dipped his middle finger into your slick and easing it down to your hole.
"Daddy," you gasped as you pulled your fingers from your mouth. "I'm going to come."
You looked shocked by your statement as you sank down around his finger. He could already feel your tight pussy fluttering around him as he whispered, "You want me to make it so good?"
His only answer was a whimper as you bit your lip, and he knew he'd make sure you were always taken care of in every way. Carefully, he added a second finger and started to circle your clit with his thumb. You were shaking a bit, your pretty tits bouncing softly as he ran his nose down the valley between your breasts.
"Be a good girl. You know where to put those fingers, Princess," he coaxed, watching you slip them between your lips. Then he let you have his mouth on your tits again, while his hand worked at your pussy. He carefully drew a shaking orgasm out of you as you slobbered on your own fingers, not stopping until he was afraid you'd be too far gone soon.
"Daddy," you whined around your fingers as he ran his tongue flat across your nipple.
"Let me fuck you," he begged, realizing he was already close and needing to be inside you. "Please, Baby."
You reached for his cock and guided him home, and he fucked you with his jeans barely pulled down, coming inside you after just a few strokes. You were the picture of sated perfection with his cum oozing out of your pussy and your wet fingers skimming along your swollen belly and breasts. You were his young, pristine babysitter and his pregnant wife-to-be and everything in between. "I love you."
"Keep me warm all night, Daddy."
---------------------------
As you sent Bradley off with Natasha, you shared a conspiratorial look with her. You only felt slightly bad for keeping the bachelor party plans to yourself, and ultimately it made you feel good when Bradley went out for the night in an old pair of jeans and an uninspired shirt. He didn't look the part of a man who wanted to try to dazzle some strippers, and you loved him for it.
"Bye, Bub," he said, kneeling to kiss Noah where he stood at your side. "Be good for Mommy." Then he stood and kissed you deeply. "I won't be out late, okay?"
"Stay out as late as you want," you told him, running your fingers along his cheek as he pulled away from you. "Just don't have a hangover on Saturday."
He smiled and focused on your face even as Nat and the guys yelled at him from Javy's car in the driveway. "Our wedding day. It'll be perfect. Like you."
"Go," you told him with a laugh even as you had butterflies in your belly. "Have fun. We'll be here when you get home."
With one more kiss, he was off and jogging down the walkway. You watched him climb into the backseat, then they all waved at you as Javy backed out of the driveway with Natasha in the front seat. You were wondering how long it would be until Bradley called you to tell you he had in fact been taken to see a bunch of male strippers. The guys had apparently all been so excited when Natasha mentioned the strip club, she had a hard time holding in her laughter. The plan all along was that she'd take Bradley and the rest of them to dinner and then to The Tiger's Cage- San Diego's premier male review.
But you didn't hear from them at all while you and Noah ate macaroni and cheese together. You still didn't hear a word as the two of you took Skittles for a short walk to look at Christmas lights. You even let Noah dip his hands in green paint to make a Christmas tree art project to hang on the refrigerator, but nobody called or texted you.
"Mommy?" Noah asked as you got him changed into his dinosaur pajamas. "Are you going to adopt me?"
You smiled and kissed him on his chubby cheek. "I am," you promised. But when you looked at his face, his brow was pinched with worry.
"Is it going to hurt?"
"Oh, Noah," you said with a surprised laugh, pulling him into your arms and holding him against his growing younger sibling. "Not at all! It won't feel like anything."
"Then why are you going to do it?" he asked, face muffled by your shoulder.
You soothed his back with your hand, considering his question. For all intents and purposes, you really were his mom. Bradley added you to his will; if anything happened to him, Noah was solely yours. "I kind of want to have a little piece of paper with an official signature that says we get to be together forever. Does that sound okay?"
"That's adoption?" he asked.
"That's adoption."
"Yeah, okay," he agreed with a little shrug before climbing into bed. "Can I sleep with Skittles again?"
The pup appeared in the doorway, always excited to hear her name. "She can stay in here until Daddy gets home." You set the dog in bed with him and gave him a little kiss on his forehead as he yawned. "I love you."
"Love you, Mommy." He was half asleep as you turned on his night light and left the room. When you checked your phone, you smiled, having finally received the message you were waiting for.
Bradley Bradshaw: Nat brought us to The Tiger's Cage. My name is on the marquee. It says CONGRATULATIONS DADDY BRADSHAW
You were doubled over in laughter, holding your belly and trying not to wet yourself. Because he also sent a picture. All of the guys were lined up under the marquee sign, and you were pleased to see that they all looked like they were being good sports about the entire thing. Bradley was the only one who looked slightly mortified.
You texted back Go have fun, Daddy Bradshaw!
Natasha sent you some random photos as you got ready for bed. You were surprised Jake was there, given your history with him, but even he looked like he was having fun. You laughed at a picture of Bradley drinking something pink and blended, and then the photos stopped.
You wondered what was going on, but you kept yourself busy. Bradley told you not to clean up, promising to take care of everything tomorrow night before the wedding in the backyard on Saturday afternoon. Since you had the time and the privacy, you tried on your wedding dress one last time, sliding the fabric along your legs and zipping it up your side. You grabbed your purple paper crown, which was looking a lot worse for the wear now, and set it on your head.
When you looked in the mirror, you smiled. The dress fit like a dream and hugged your bump. The crown looked fun at the moment, but you wouldn't wear it on Saturday; you were pretty sure Bradley considered it a 'bedroom' item at this point anyway. Mostly, you looked happy. Like someone who was accepted in this perfect place. Like a woman who was needed here. And you needed the Bradshaw boys to be your family.
You wore the dress around for a few minutes before carefully unzipping it and getting ready for bed. It was late now, but you requested the day off tomorrow, and you wanted to see Bradley when he got home from his bachelor party. After you checked on Noah and Skittles, you curled up on the living room couch.
Every time you stopped to think about the wedding, you got a little anxious. When you asked Bradley what he had planned for dinner for the reception, he just told you he had everything under control. He said all you had to do was show up with some sort of wedding vows, but he didn't tell you anything that he had planned.
You dozed off on the couch, somehow still exhausted all the time, and you had no idea how late it was when you woke up to the sound of laughter and a key in the front door.
"You smell like Axe body spray. I can't believe someone is marrying you."
"Jesus fuck, Nat. I smell like Axe because you took me to see male strippers."
"Well, I know I had a great time tonight," Natasha cackled as she guided Bradley inside, and you stood up with your hand clasped over your mouth. He was a swaying mess, and he was holding a huge wad of cash and a bag from a convenience store.
"Princess," he crooned softly when he saw you, and your heart skipped a beat at the look in his eyes.
"Hi, Daddy."
And then he was on you, so gentle in his overindulgence, it was almost surprising. He was looking around like he wasn't sure what to do with everything he was holding, trying to touch your belly.
"I'll see you on Saturday," Natasha said with a smile as she closed the door behind her, and then you were alone with him.
"What's in the bag? Are why are you holding a roll of cash?" you asked as you guided him to the couch.
He sat down hard and handed everything to you as you stood between his splayed legs. "The strippers were dudes. I made Nat and Javy stop so I could get you some Skittles. I'm really drunk. Can we get married soon?"
When you looked in the bag you found six packs of your favorite candy. "Wow, you must be very intoxicated if you bought a pack of Sour Skittles too."
"Did I?" he asked before stretching out on the couch. "Shit. I'll eat them. Come here."
You sat on the floor next to him and handed him the bag of Sour Skittles as you counted the nearly seven hundred dollars you were holding. "Bradley, where did this come from?" you asked in alarm.
But he just crunched on some of the candy in response. "Oh, these are fucking nasty. Baby, can we please get married?" he rambled, dumping more Skittles into his mouth.
You pushed his hair back from his forehead and kissed him there. "Were getting married in like thirty-six hours. Now can you please tell me where you got this money from?"
"Huh?" he grunted like he'd never seen it before. "Oh. Oh, that." Then he casually dumped the rest of the Sour Skittles and chewed them up while you laughed and shook his arm.
"Bradley!"
He swallowed and dropped the wrapper on the floor before pulling you up onto the couch with him. "Jake got tips for stripping, and Nat made him give me the cash."
"I'm sorry, what?" you asked with in shock as you tried to settle into a comfortable position on him.
"They tried to get Daddy Bradshaw up on stage. I pointed to Jake and said it was him."
You couldn't stop laughing now. "But you got the cash?"
"Yeah," he said, eyes drifting closed as he propped his arm behind his head. "A wedding gift. For the honeymoon."
Just as you settled your head on his chest, you popped back up again. "Are we going on a honeymoon?" You started to feel a little apprehensive about going away for an extended trip without Noah while you were pregnant, but Bradley brought his big hand up to settle on your back as he snuggled in a little more.
"Next year. After the baby's born. Anywhere you want to go."
He really did kind of smell like Axe body spray, and he definitely needed to take a shower, but you let him hold you for a few minutes while he slept.
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Part 61 will be their wedding! Thanks so much for reading and letting me share this family with you! We're almost to the finish line. Thanks @caitsymichelle13 for the request about the coloring book; stay tuned. And thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
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Stars Align: Part 5
Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Reader
Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Pining, Mentions of Abuse, Eventual Smut, Violence, Alcohol, Sexual Themes, Hidden Feelings, Swearing, Cheating, Established Relationship.
-- Part 4 Here --
________________________
18+ Only
________________________
Past:
You and Bradley didn't speak for a few days after your conversation at the beach, but you felt your cold shoulder beginning to fade when Bradley showed up at your door with a bunch of daisies in his hand, which he thrust at you as soon as you opened the door.
''What are these for?'' you asked.
''For whatever I did to piss you off, I'm sorry.'' he said genuinely, and it broke your heart that you'd made him think he'd actually done something wrong.
''It wasn't you, Bradley, I'm sorry for the way I acted.'' You apologised softly.
Bradley grinned and softly punched your shoulder, ''Besties again?''
You chuckled, ''Never stopped, Bradshaw.''
Things went mostly back to normal after that, with Bradley still spending most of his time with you. There was the odd occasion Michelle would call Bradley and ask to meet up, where he'd disappear for a while, only to reappear at your house the next day as if he never left.
Bradley didn't say much about Michelle around you, obviously sensing your dislike for her, but it became more and more obvious that they were getting closer and closer to doing the deed, when Carole let slip one night that Bradley had a romantic date planned for her.
You wanted to be sick at the thought, but instead you smiled at her and mumbled 'That's nice, hope you two have a good time.' as Bradley blushed a bright shade of crimson, you both going back to the lovely dinner Carole had cooked for you.
''So, what's this date you've told me nothing about?'' you chuckled as Bradley walked you home that evening, the cool air wafting his poofy dark hair over his eyes. He smoothed his hair back and chuckled awkwardly.
''It's nothing, just dinner. A picnic actually, up on the hill.''
''Are you gonna... you know?''
''Gosh I dunno, Birdy, what's with the interrogation?'' he flushed.
You were both quiet for a moment, until you neared your front lawn and looked up at him, ''For what its worth, I don't think she's right for you. I think you can do better, Rooster.''
Bradley was about to speak, when your dad walked outside.
''Ah, I'm glad you're both here. Can you two come inside for a second, we need to talk.'' your dad said sombrely, and you could see your mother in the hallway, her eyebrows creased.
''What is it, dad?'' you asked as you walked towards him.
''Just come inside.''
__________________________
Present:
Your most important things were packed in a suitcase, the rest still in your apartment. You'd signed a year lease so you thought at the very least if things panned out, you could use it as a storage unit until things were set up in California.
The plane landed and your stomach was in knots. You hadn't told Bradley you were coming yet, and as you left the airport and got in a cab, you suddenly wondered if this was such a good idea.
It was too late to turn back when you decided it was, in fact, a very bad idea, because you were already pulling up outside of Bradleys bungalow. You took a deep breath as you paid the driver, and you swallowed down the nerves as you took your suitcase out of the trunk. You thought you were going to vomit as you walked up to the front door and knocked.
You waited for what felt like an agonisingly long time, but when the door finally swung open, you knew you'd made the right decision.
''Birdy?'' Bradley breathed in disbelief, his hands cupping his mouth as his eyes scanned your face.
''Hope that invitation is still valid.'' you joked sheepishly.
Bradley lunged forwards and swept you up in his big burly arms, you dangled helplessly like a doll in an overly early childs hands, and you chuckled as he buried his face in your neck.
When he finally put you down, you grinned up at him, and noticed his Adams Apple bobbing, he was trying not to cry.
''Oh, you big softie.'' you punched his shoulder and he chuckled, rubbing his eyes.
''I just can't believe you're here. I didn't think you'd come.''
''Well, are you gonna make me live out here on the porch or can I come in?'' you teased.
''Right! Come in, I have a room for you.'' Bradley stepped to the side and grabbed your suitcase. He gave you a quick tour of the little bungalow that you thought seemed too small for a man of his stature, and lastly to the bedroom he'd prepared, just in case you came.
''Wow, Brad, I thought you said you didn't think I was coming?'' you breathed. The room was already set up, pink floral duvet covers and fluffy pillows awaited you, a poster of your favourite boy band in school, and the canvas you'd painted with Bradley stood pride and centre on the wall.
''I know, but I hoped.'' he said simply.
You looked up at him and grabbed his arm, pulling him down to your height. You planted a soft kiss on his cheek and then wrapped your arms around his neck.
''Thank you.'' you whispered as you hugged him.
''Anything for my lil Bird.''
It took a while for you to let go, but when you did Bradley left you to unpack and relax for a while.
You walked around your room and smiled, it was simple and mostly empty, but it had a sense of home that your apartment in New York didn't have.
You sat on the bed and breathed in the smell of sea air wafting in through your windows.
Once you'd unpacked and changed into a more summery dress, you met Bradley in the lounge, the sound of a football match roaring through the speakers. Bradley turned the tv off as you walked in, smiling at you.
''California suits you.'' he grinned.
You swished your dress from side to side, ''Yeah, I think so too.'' you winked.
''How do you feel about meeting some of my friends?'' Bradley asked, as he stood and met you at the centre of the room. He stood over you, tauntingly close, the smell of his cologne teasing your nostrils.
''You mean that blond guy, Jake?'' you scrunched up your nose.
''There are others, I promise.'' he chuckled, cupping your face in both of his huge hands. He stared down at you so intently, for a moment you forgot where you were.
''Why are you looking at me like I'm not real?'' you breathed out a soft, awkward laugh.
''Because I'm scared you're not and I'm gonna wake up without you.'' he said earnestly. Your heart thudded against your chest as his face grew closer, his eyes dipping to your lips.
Knock Knock Knock
Bradleys front door suddenly interrupted you, and you both stepped back, looking at each other for a moment, before Bradley went to answer it.
''I may have texted the group that you're here, I think they took that as an invitation to come and meet you.'' he said apologetically. You laughed as he opened the door and 5 people walked in.
''Hello again little lady.'' Jake, the only one you recognised, grinned at you, toothpick between his teeth.
''Hi, Jake.'' you smiled politely back.
Bradley introduced you to the others as they filtered in, each toting various drinks and bags of snacks.
''This is Nat, Bob, Reuben, and Javy. You'll meet Mickey at some point but he's on his honeymoon at the moment.''
You said hello to everyone, and Nat pulled you in for a hug. She reminded you a lot of Gabby, and you suddenly remembered you needed to give her a call later.
''It's so great to finally meet you, Rooster has been talking about you for years!'' Nat laughed.
''Great to meet you too! Years, huh?'' you shot Bradley a quizzical glance, and he just rolled his eyes.
You all filtered out into the little back yard, where Jake and Javy fired up the grill as everyone got to know you, drinks at hand and before long laughter filling the little yard.
Bradley made his way over to where you and Bob were talking, slinking an arm casually over your shoulder as he took a swig of beer. He joined in the conversation and didn't notice as someone new walked out the back door.
Bob noticed first, and tapped Bradley on the shoulder, his eyes shooting over to the new comer to alert Bradley.
''Hi all!'' she chirped, ''The door was open, hope you don't mind if I join?''
Bradley groaned, moving his arm off of your shoulder as he turned to face her.
''Hey, Alice. Sorry I was gonna call you.'' he said awkwardly as he walked over to the leggy blond.
''Alice, this is my best friend, Y/N.'' He said introducing you with a grin.
And then half heartedly and with a sheepish look, he turned to look at you, ''Y/N, this is Alice... my girlfriend.''
__________________________________
Past:
“What do you mean? Why can’t you just do that job here?” You demanded.
You were sitting in your living room across from your parents, Bradley was next to you with his face in his hands.
“There isn’t a position here for me, Y/N. This job is going to sort out so much debt for us-“ your mom nudged your dad and shook her head to stop him from talking.
“Are we having money problems?” You asked softly.
Bradley lifted his head and looked around with furrowed eyebrows.
Your dad sighed, looked at your mom and she took over, “We’re fine, but we are struggling. This job is our only choice. I’m sorry, honey. I know it’s going to be difficult, but Bradley can come visit whenever and you can stay with them during summer vacation.”
Your parents left you shell shocked in your living room with Bradley, who just looked at you with wide, watery eyes.
“Well, I guess that’s it then…” you mumbled.
“No, it can’t be. I haven’t planned for a life without you, what am I supposed to do when you’re gone?” Bradley suddenly exploded, standing to his feet so quickly it startled you.
He began to pace, “I’m gonna… I’m gonna be stuck with Michelle as my only source of company.” He ranted.
“Isn’t that what you want?” You asked softly.
Bradley looked at you like you’d just asked the most stupid question ever, “No! God no! She’s boring, and stuck up, and rude, when I’m with her all I can think about is getting out.”
“Then why are you with her?” You shook your head in exasperation.
“Because… you don’t get it, Birdy. I’m the only one in my grade that hasn’t… you know. I needed someone experienced who I could do it with.” He groaned, sitting back down and putting his hands over his face.
“Brad, why didn’t you tell me that’s the only reason? If you’re gonna lose your… you know, it should be with someone you actually care about.” You said gently, placing a hand on the top of his arm. He lowered his hands and looked at you for a while.
Bradley sighed, “The only person in this whole damn town I care about is you.”
You were about to respond when your brother walked into the room and wailed dramatically.
“Have you heard the news? Our lives are over!”
—————————————
Present:
“Girlfriend? Oh, hi, nice to meet you.” Your voice was small and shaky, and you had to clear your throat.
Bob noticed the awkward tension and was the first one to realise what was happening.
“Oh my god! Bradley talks about you non stop! So nice to finally meet you, girl!” Alice squealed, hugging you.
Bob cleared his throat, “Y/N, do you mind helping me grab some of the food from the kitchen?” Bob asked, looking you in the eye and giving you a signal.
You nodded and excused yourself, and as soon as you were in the kitchen, you let out a long shaky breath, tears prickling your eyes. You had just made a horrible mistake coming here.
“Hey, are you okay?” Bob asked, rubbing your back comfortingly.
“Yep. I just… I need to call someone. Excuse me.” You rushed off to your bedroom and closed the door, pressing your back up against it as you breathed through the sudden panic.
You found your phone on the nightstand and dialled Gabby’s number.
As soon as she answered, you began to sob uncontrollably.
“Y/N! What’s going on, can you breathe for me please?” She called over the phone.
You attempted to pull in a few short breaths until you were calm enough to speak.
“I’m such an idiot!” You cried.
“Why? What’s happening? You scared me when you left this morning.”
“I… I went to California. Bradley asked me to, so I did, I thought he wanted me here because he felt the same.” You sniffled.
There was a brief silence on the other end, “He doesn’t?” She sounded surprised.
“He has a girlfriend, Gabs, one he never told me about.”
“Ohhh, fuck. Have you met her?”
“Yeah, just now. I was so blindsided I must have come across as rude. I can’t believe I thought Bradley and I had any future, or that he loved me the way I love him. I’ve loved him for what feels like my whole life, Gabs, when am I going to realise I can’t have him?” You wept.
Suddenly the door creaked, and you turned around suddenly to face Bradley, who stood in the doorway with his mouth slightly ajar and his eyebrows furrowed, blinking rapidly as tears threatened to spill over.
“Oh my god.” You whispered. “Gabby I have to go.” You hung up and dropped your phone on the bed.
“Brad-“
He held up a hand to shush you, and edged into the room, closing the door behind him.
“Don’t speak.” He said as he crossed the room. He stood over you and a large hand came up to thread through your hair and cup your cheek.
A tear dropped down your face as you looked up at him, your lip quivering.
“Did you mean what you just said?” Bradley whispered, closing his eyes as his forehead came to rest against yours, your lips inches apart, his warm breath on your skin.
“Yes.” you croaked out. And that’s all you needed to say, because Bradley’s lips came crashing down on yours, taking your breath away. The room spun as your eyes widened, and then gradually fluttered shut.
His other hand cradled the back of your neck as he deepened the kiss, moaning into your lips.
The tears fell faster now as your heart felt as if it was exploding, the fireworks inside you turning your skin alight. You grabbed a fistful of Bradley’s shirt, holding on for dear life as the feeling you’d waited decades for was finally washing over you, better than you'd ever imagined, buckling your knees from underneath you.
Bradley’s hand moved from the back of your head to your lower back and he pulled you into him, holding you up, and still it wasn’t enough, you wanted more, desperate for more, hungry for more, but your conscious suddenly rocked through you like a bolt of lightning and you pushed against Bradley’s chest. You broke away from him with a gasp as you fought for breath. Your hand moved up to your chest to soothe the thrumming inside as you panted.
Bradley looked at you with a confused, longing expression, fighting for his own breath.
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Bradley demanded, his face flushed and lips beautifully swollen.
You bit your lip and shook your head before you breathed a laugh, “Would it have made a difference?”
“Yes, Birdy, it would have made all the difference.” He nodded, hands on his hips as he contemplated your words.
“Why didn’t you tell me you had a girlfriend before I flew out here?” You asked him sadly.
“I… I didn’t think it mattered. I didn’t know you felt that way.” He looked at his feet.
You shook your head again as you sighed, “I’ve loved you since that stupid moustache began to grow, Brad. In fact I think I loved you the second you saved me on my first day of school.” You breathed.
Bradley’s eyes shot up to meet yours, his bottom lip wobbled as he nodded, “Yeah, that’s about the same time I fell in love with you, too, Birdy.”
You opened your mouth to speak but a sharp knock rasped against your bedroom door and you jumped. The door opened and Bob poked his head through.
“Uhm… you guys should probably come outside.”
—————————————
-- Part 6 Here --
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change your ticket home
a top gun maverick AU
pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Sherrie McHone (fem!OC)
summary: After a successful business trip on the West Coast, two Wells Corporation engineers have problems getting back home. Thank god for Bradley Bradshaw, a man who is determined to make their hours waiting in the terminal as enjoyable as possible. And if he and his pretty travel companion (and colleague) get closer along the way? Well that’s just a bonus.
warnings: difficulties of being a woman in a male-dominated field, minor misogyny from coworkers, yearning, pining, Bradley being an absolute sweetheart, it's vaguely alluded to but Sherrie is named after the Steve Perry song, American Airlines bashing bc this fic is based on a real and horrible experience I had a few years ago. and yes, the title is from the one direction song.
word count: 9.8k | masterlist
note: happy saturday! this has been in the works for almost a year and I'm so thrilled to finally be sharing it! this is dedicated to @gretagerwigsmuse, who gave so many wonderful ideas and has continually been a cheerleader for this fic. happy birthday!
Friday, July 15, 2016 | 06:36 AM PST | San Diego, CA
“If I fake a heart attack, we can get out of this meeting, right?”
She looks over at Bradley sprawled in the uncomfortable café chair in his navy suit, his arm slung over the back of her chair. He’s down to just his crisp, white button-up, jacket, and tie abandoned within the first ten minutes of the call.
“Suck it up, we’re almost done.” She rolls her eyes. “And Martin knows you’re a supremely healthy thirty-two-year-old, so no, I don’t think that will work.”
“Sherrie…” His whine is cut off by her hand covering his mouth as she unmutes her microphone and mentally praises his decision to sit so close to her. Not having to pull out both laptops was just an additional perk on top of her ability to silence him.
“That’s correct, Sean. We got them to agree to a small batch trail run for the connectors. We’ll be working together on running them through environmental testing before committing to a full contract.”
“And why are they agreeing to that? Because frankly, it makes no sense to me why they would want to do that.”
Bradley straightens up, his eyes narrowing at the Teams box showing the older man’s initials. “Well, Sean, as Sherrie explained before. Harris hasn’t produced connectors like this before, and they’re interested in the test results, specifically the shock data. So they agreed to take on half the burden so they can use the information for their own use. If this works how we think it will, this will be a huge boost for their business, even if the patent is shared.”
She looks at him, half admonishment and half appreciation, always a little bit amazed when he had her back, no matter how many times he had done it. “The contracts team is drawing up the final agreements and negotiating with their team next week, so best case scenario is we have reports with usable data by the end of the summer. Worst case, it’ll drift into the middle of Q1.”
“That’s great work you guys did out there, thank you. Alright, I think that covers everything we had to talk about today. McHone, Bradshaw - have a safe flight back, and everyone have a good weekend!” Martin ends the call before anyone can add anything.
Bradley laughs. “God, he’s just as sick of Sean as I am. I can’t wait until he retires.”
“He’s not that bad; you’re just grumpy because you had to dress up for the staff meeting, and then Martin said cameras off today.”
“I am upset about that! I will be logging yet another suggestion that we should have casual Fridays and casual travel policy. But I’m more upset because he talks down to you all the time! Like you haven’t been carrying this department on your back since we started ten years ago!”
“Carrying is an exaggeration, Bradley.” She looks up from where she’s putting her laptop away. “I think you have time to change into something comfy before we board.”
“American Airlines Flight 2307 from San Diego to Charlotte, Boarding Group A can now board.”
“Or not.” She giggles as he groans, reaching over to pull her other air pod out of his ear. “Come on, it’s a long flight; you can sleep on the plane. Just be thankful you’re not wearing an underwire bra and heels.”
“I don’t know how you do that.” He mutters, shooing her away when she tries to pick up her carry-on, throwing it over his shoulder alongside his own.
“I don’t either. I’m going to get a massage when we get back to Boston.”
“Ohhh, a massage sounds nice.” He subtly sticks his elbow out for her grab, which she gratefully does, letting his tall frame guide her to their gate. “You know you didn’t have to wear heels, right?”
“You should shut up while I’m still thankful you yelled at Sean for me.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Sherrie leans her head on his arm as they wait in the priority boarding line, one of the perks of traveling on the company’s dime. Normally, she would worry about being more professional while carrying her work bag that had the Wells Corporation logo embroidered on it, but she can’t bring herself to care. Yesterday’s meetings ran late, and the following client dinner had kept them out until almost midnight. After packing, going to bed late, and having to get up at 3:30AM to get to the airport, she was exhausted.
She takes her bag before they scan their tickets, not fighting when he grabs it again on their walk down the jet bridge.
“Where are you sitting again?”
“I’m in 16C.” She snorts at Bradley’s pout. “What? You knew we weren’t going to be sitting together.”
“But I’m going to be bored all the way back in 21D by myself.”
“Bud, you’re going to fall asleep in the first 30 minutes like you always do, and then I would be stuck for the next four hours with you leaning and drooling on me.”
Bradley whips his head around, “That is a baseless accusation. I do not drool!”
“You 100% definitely do drool, I’ve seen it.” Her smirk widens when his attempt to fight back is cut off by the flight attendants greeting them.
He ushers Sherrie on first, politely nodding to the flight crew before following her down the aisle, ducking down to whisper. “I do not drool.”
“You absolutely do drool. You also snore.”
She can feel eyes on them as they shuffle down the aisle, making eye contact with an older woman who raises her eyebrows in appreciation at the hunk of a man behind her.
This happens everywhere they go.
Bradley is such a gentleman, always opening doors and carrying her bags, that people never believe the two are just friends and coworkers. She’s had complete strangers fight with her when she says there’s nothing between them. Unable to accept that it’s just platonic.
As much as she wishes it could be more.
After years of learning all the little details of each other, she knows they would be good together. Their decade-long friendship allowing her to thoroughly analyze how well their personalities would mesh. They share the same beliefs and have the same interests; they even have overlapping friend groups. They’re made for each other.
On paper.
In reality, it will never happen.
She won’t let it.
“Is this good here?” Bradley’s question interrupts her weekly internal spiral; his big brown eyes blink at her over his shoulder as he puts her bag into the overhead compartment.
“That’s fine. Can you grab my water bottle out of the side pocket?
“Here ya go, ma’am. I’ll meet you by the water foundation when we land, okay?”
She nods, smiling as he hustles back to his seat to avoid a family almost flattening him in their haste to get to their assigned seats.
Her seat neighbors haven’t arrived yet, so Sherrie sits down without bothering to buckle, tucking her work bag under the row in front of her after pulling out her plane kit. Her pencil case from college that she’s repurposed to hold her headphones, phone charger, gum, hand sanitizer, and a few other small necessities.
Her phone buzzes as she’s storing her water bottle and the little bag away in the pocket of the seat in front of her.
Bradley is woken up by his seat neighbor hitting his arm as he reaches to grab a drink, nodding at the guy’s apologetic face before trying to get comfortable again. Alan talked way too much at dinner last night, and it was a struggle to stay awake during the project manager’s third round of gushing over how brilliant and profitable Sherrie’s proposal would be for both companies.
“Sir? This is for you, do you want it?” The muffled question is accompanied by someone shaking his shoulder. He peels open his eyes to see the flight attendant holding out two packets of Biscoff cookies.
His face must be confused enough for the short woman to take pity on him. “Your friend up there said these are your favorite and asked me to give hers to you.”
His heart warms up, taking the treats and saying thank you. He enjoys the cookies, washing them down with the ginger ale he also got, thinking about how well Sherrie knows him. He forces himself to wait for them to finish snack service before he gets up to use the restroom.
“Thank you.” Bradley revels in the way Sherrie jumps when he pops her headphone out, purposefully brushing his lips against her ear. “Hmmm, you were right, your seatmate is cute.”
She glares up at him, a smile threatening to break through. “Isn’t he? He fell asleep five minutes after take off, just like you.”
“Yet, another baseless accusation!”
“I heard you snoring.”
“You shouldn’t lie in front of small children.”
“His mom said he’s seven months old; I don’t think we have to be concerned about teaching him to lie while he’s still in a car seat.”
“Probably shouldn’t chance it, though. Say I don’t snore.”
“You just said I shouldn’t lie. Should probably go to the bathroom before you start holding up traffic.” She puts her headphone back in, wiggling her fingers at him before going back to reading on her phone.
It gives him the strangest sense of déjà vu.
Tuesday, March 25, 2005 | 10:43 AM EST | Charlottesville, VA
“…and he said you had already-” Bradley cuts himself off, realizing she can’t hear him. He chuckles; he should have known better than to just walk up and start talking.
He doesn’t know Sherrie McHone very well. They had taken all the freshman intro to engineering requirements together, and this year their classes had split into their chosen disciplines. His mechanical, hers electrical. But he knows her well enough to know that she can pretty much only be found without her headphones during class.
He remembers the first time they spoke last semester after he accidentally walked right into her. He had told Danny it’s because she’s so much shorter than him, but it’s really because he wasn't paying attention.
Sherrie had only taken one earpiece out to make sure he was okay before continuing onto her class, seamlessly weaving between upperclassmen as she shoved her headphone back in.
“Sherrie?” No response.
He lets out a tiny huff and checks his watch. Normally, he wouldn’t care that she’s clueless to his existence even as he’s right beside her, but he’s got a class soon, and he’s still two buildings away. So he does the only thing he can.
He pops her headphones out and steps back for fear of getting smacked.
Her head whips up, narrowing in on him freakishly fast. “What the fuck, Bradshaw?”
He’s surprised to learn that she knows his name.
“Sorry, Sherrie! I’ve been trying to talk to you for like five minutes, and you somehow haven’t noticed, but I’ve got class in 15 minutes, so I needed to get your attention.”
“Oh…” Her green eyes widen in surprise, the apples of her cheeks turning a light pink. “Sorry about that. What did you need? Wait. How did you find me?”
A fair question.
“Khondker told me where you sit.” He partially fibs.
All semester he had been watching her disappear after EE221, the one class they shared. It had taken him a while, but he was pretty sure he had found her secret study nook in the electrical engineering wing of the building. Their TA had only confirmed Bradley’s theory of where he could find his fellow sophomore.
“I don’t understand this last section we’ve been learning, and Khondker said you had already finished the homework and could help me. So could you?”
“He didn’t help you?” Sherrie raises an eyebrow in disbelief.
“He tried.” Bradley scratches the back of his head, remembering how frustrated the patient man had been after his third attempt at explaining. “I just really don’t understand circuit loops. And he thought having a classmate explain it to me would make it stick. That or he was just so sick of me, he’s pawning me off.”
He watches her think, her pencil rapidly tapping against her notebook, making him nervous.
“I don’t want to be rude, but if you don’t understand current loops, I’m not sure how much help I can be. I understand the material, but I’m not a miracle worker.”
Her bluntness makes him smile. “I’m not expecting miracles, just help with the homework. If you have time.”
“Okay, just as long as you don’t get your hopes up too much.” She grabs a bright pink notebook and opens it up. “So, I’m usually free-”
“I don't want to interrupt, but I do have to get to class, so could we figure out a time later today?”
“Sure, I’ll be here until my class at four. Feel free to sit down if I’m not here; it just means I’m grabbing food.” He nods, backing away. “Wait! Bradley! Go down this hall and out the side door. You’ll be like halfway there already.”
“Awesome, thanks!” He starts to jog down the hallway, looking back to see her putting her headphones back in. Waving back when she smiles and wiggles her fingers at him before going back to her homework.
Friday, July 15, 2016 | 3:16 PM EST | Charlotte, NC
“Our flight got delayed, and I’m hungry.”
Sherrie jumps, not expecting Bradley to get that close to her face three seconds after she exited the bathroom.
“Okay, I could eat. Where do you wan-”
“Auntie Anne’s.”
He’s walking away before she can even process what he said. She allows herself one second to appreciate the way he looks, walking through the concourse - navy slacks fitting his legs perfectly and all their bags thrown over his broad shoulders - before she’s clicking along after him.
“Bradshaw!” He freezes and turns, almost taking a lanky teenager out with her backpack. “Oh my god, Bradley! Be careful! You almost took that kid’s head off.”
His smile is sheepish as she shuffles them over to the wall. “I did not do that on purpose.”
She giggles and takes her backpack from his shoulder. “Yeah, I kinda figured. But you should have seen his face. His life flashed before his eyes. All sixteen years.”
“I can carry that Sherrie.”
“That’s okay, I got it. No! Bradley!”
He ignores her, smiling at her frustrated little stomp when he hands over her tan, cross-body purse out of her work bag. “You just carry that and make sure I don’t take out any toddlers or old ladies.”
“How am I supposed to do that if I’m ahead of you?” She snarks as he steers them toward the food stands.
“You’re smart; I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” Bradley laughs when she mocks him under her breath. “I can hear you, smartass.”
“You were meant to, Bradley.”
His heart flutters at the teasing wink she sends over her shoulder. It’s been twelve years since they became friends, and he still feels like that 20-year-old kid who was nervous to talk to the pretty red-headed girl he had a crush on.
He can feel eyes on them as her heels catch people’s attention, and he finds himself glaring at men who are shamelessly staring. Her shoes aren’t loud as they click along on the tile floor, but it’s hard to ignore the beautiful woman striding along in business casual.
It happens everywhere they go.
Sherrie has always been beautiful and painfully unaware of her effect on men. It never matters where they are - at work, the rare baseball game he forces her to attend, happy hour with their friends from school - she always catches attention. It doesn’t bother him because she never reciprocates, and he’s always the one to give her a ride back to her apartment.
Even if he wishes it was their apartment they were going to.
He’s watched her change over the last decade, seen her grow as a person. He’s risen through the ranks with her professionally, the two of them matching each other step for step with each promotion and raise. He’s publicly assured her that her hair still looks good as it’s deepened color with age, now less red and more auburn. He’s privately appreciated the way her body has changed, softer and curvier than when they were kids. Her wide hips are a frequent star in his daydreams.
It's the only place where they’ll ever be in a relationship.
He knows they’d be perfect together. Old friends who know each other so well they don’t even have to talk to communicate sometimes. Whose attitudes fit together like puzzle pieces, perfectly in sync with each other. He knows it won’t happen. Can’t happen.
“Grab us a table, and I’ll get the food.”
“Okay.” He doesn’t fight her about paying, knowing this will be covered under their per diem. “Don’t forget my-”
“You’re frozen lemonade, I know!”
Bradley rolls his eyes at the hand that waves over her shoulder, settling their bags at a table and keeping an eye on Sherrie while sending an update to Mav.
His thumbs hover over the keyboard. He wants to tell his uncle the whole situation - that he’s not afraid to flirt with Sherrie.
“Everything okay?”
Bradley looks up to find her eyebrows furrowed as she sets a tray down.
“All good. Just sending my family an update that we’re delayed.”
She nods, sitting in the chair across from him. “Here’s your mini pretzel dogs, with mustard and a frozen lemonade. This is my pretzel nuggets, cheese sauce, and Diet Coke. Oh! And I got us these cinnamon sugar pretzels to share!”
“Thank you for remembering the mustard.”
“Bradley, when have I ever forgotten the mustard? Here, take some napkins.”
He shoves an entire mini pretzel dog in his mouth in lieu of answering her question, which they both know the answer to. Never. She has never forgotten his love for pretzels with mustard.
They eat in comfortable silence, the way only two friends can, occasionally dunking into each other's sauces as they scroll through their phones.
“Hey, how is your da- oh Bradley! You got mustard on your shirt!” His head snaps down to his shirt, groaning when he sees the yellow blob on his white button-up.
“Fuck! This is new, too!”
Sherrie dives into her bag, muttering about a stain stick, a triumphant noise escaping when she comes up successful. Scooting closer to him, she’s hit with a wave of nostalgia as she helps him clean his shirt.
Friday, April 6, 2007 | 10:12 PM EST | Charlottesville, VA
“You should’ve been gone, knowing how I made you feel!”
Sherrie’s head pops up from the lab reports she’s grading.
“And I should've been gone, after all your words of steel!”
She knows that voice.
“Oh, I must've been a dreamer! And I must've been someone else!”
She knows that voice very well.
“And we should've been over!”
She rushes for the front door, hoping and praying that the idiot she’s become close friends with this year isn’t actually outside her townhouse.
“Oh! Sherrie, our love holds on! Holds on!”
She whips the door open and, sure enough, drunkenly singing to her neighbor's house is Bradley Bradshaw.
“Bradley!” She hisses at him, ignoring the flutters in her stomach when he points his big, goofy grin towards her and not the tulips the soccer girls next door planted in front of their bay window. “What are you doing? It’s 10 PM!”
“You didn’t come.”
“First man to ever care about that.” She mutters, snorting at her joke.
“What’s funny?”
“Nothing. What are you doing here?”
His puppy dog eyes are vicious, and she has the urge to slap her hand over her eyes so she doesn’t succumb to their power. “You didn’t come to the party!”
Sherrie sighs, she thought he might be disappointed she didn’t come to the annual Sigma Chi Easter Bash, but she never thought he would actually notice her absence. Or that it would result in a drunken serenade.
“Bradley, I told you I had a lot of grading and might not make it tonight.” She gently reminds him, stifling a laugh when he trips over his own feet while standing still. “You okay?”
“I have to pee. Can I come in?”
She’s pretty sure he’s just making excuses but lets him in any way; she doesn’t need to deal with him getting a public indecency charge on top of everything else. “Shoes off, Bradshaw. Bathroom is right here; I’ll be in the dining room.”
“Yes, ma’am!” He sloppily salutes her, losing his balance and thunking against the wall, one shoe still on.
Sherrie just blinks at him before returning to her spot at the dining room table, holding in the laugh threatening to escape. She settles in her chair, focusing on the mediocre reports her students had turned in.
“I washed my hands!” Bradley’s abrupt entrance startles her. “Can we have a snack? I’m hungry?
She watches in amusement as he shuffles to her fridge, riffling through the shelves before opening the freezer and gasping.
“I love pretzels. Can we make these? Please?”
The box of pretzels belongs to her roommate, but she’s not strong enough to deny Bradley’s big brown eyes two times in a row so she makes a mental note to buy Amna a new box the next time she goes to the store. “Yeah, we can. But no touching the oven when you’re drunk. Go sit down.”
“I’m not drunk!” He argues even as he follows her directions, plopping himself at the table and nosily leafing through her done pile. “Wow, lots of red here.”
“Bradley! Don’t look at those!”
“Why not?”
“Would you want some random student looking through your homework?”
His rebuttal gets cut off by the oven beeping, announcing it’s up to temp. After she pops the tray in the oven, she turns and catches him appreciating the pj shorts riding up her shapely legs.
“What?” Her head cocks in confusion.
“Nothin'… cute shorts.”
“Thank you.” He watches in fascination as she snips at him even while her cheeks turn pink. “It’s almost like I was dressed for comfort and not planning on being interrupted.”
“But you’re glad I’m here, right?”
“I’ve had worse company on a Friday night.” She nudges him out of her chair. “While those are baking, go find something to watch, and I’m going to finish grading this report.”
“Such a responsible TA.”
Pride fills his chest as Sherrie snorts at his joke and goes back to work. They’ve officially been friends since last year, but he still tries his hardest to make her laugh. She's always so busy and stressed, and she does the cutest little snort-laugh when he catches her off guard.
He puts on a random movie, just grabbing a VHS case with the Disney logo on the side, before plopping on the couch. “Is there a reason you have so many kids movies?”
“Those are Jayla’s, she collects them.” Sherrie answers, never looking up from the table. “What did you choose?”
“It’s a surprise!”
“You don’t remember, huh?”
“Nope! I’ll be quiet now.”
She hums a thank you in his direction, and Bradley keeps his promise, watching her work and staying quiet until the timer goes off. His chin hooked on the back of the couch; he follows her movement through the kitchen as she pulls the pretzels out and transfers them to a plate.
“Can I have mustard, please?”
“Sure can.” Sherrie smiles at his dopey smile as she makes her way to the couch. “Here, take these, then we can eat.”
He gulps down the painkillers she drops in his hand, chugging the rest of the apple juice after they’re gone, smiling when she absentmindedly praises him for listening. He shoves a bite of pretzel in his mouth and mashes the play button, and is pleasantly surprised to find A Bug’s Life was the mystery choice.
“I love this movie,” he garbles through a pretzel. “I love how Flick wins over the princess just by getting a chance to show off his true self.”
“That was shockingly wise for the drunk man sprawled on my couch.”
Bradley thanks her, already a bit more sober but not enough to pick up on her teasing. “So, why didn’t you come? Grading really couldn’t wait?”
“It probably could have, but I’m not a partier, Bradley. You know that.” She dips a piece of pretzel in the mustard. “Besides, I really didn’t think you would notice I wasn’t there, Mr. Popular.”
“You’re the only person I invited; of course, I noticed when you didn’t show up.”
“Really? No one else? Why?”
“I know it’s almost finals, but I wanted to hang out without any books in front of us; that’s all we do lately. Study. Plus, you’ve been extra stressed about something that you don’t want to talk about, and I just wanted you to relax since you won’t talk to me about whatever is bothering you.”
“That’s sweet of you, Bradley. It’s not that I don’t want to tell you; it’s just that my family has been…” She waves a hand through the air, a deep sigh escaping. “It’s complicated. I’m trying not to think about it too much.”
“Well, I’m here if you do want to talk.”
“Thanks bud. How about you? How’re your parents?” She takes one last chunk before nudging the plate in his direction and settling back into the corner.
“Mom is good; she’s close to being considered cancer-free. I think we’re gonna throw a party when she gets there.”
“That’s awesome, Bradley! I’m glad she’s doing so well. How’s your dad?”
“Mav isn’t my dad.”
A record scratch plays in Sherrie’s head as she freezes. She knows she’s heard Bradley talk about his dad, and she’d seen photos of his parents the one time she had visited his frat house last year. He had specifically pointed the photo out, telling her it was his parents. She had even been next to him when he was on the phone when he said “dad” to the person on the other end.
“My dad died when I was three. Mav is- was his best friend. I call him dad sometimes because he’s the closest thing I’ve got.”
Sherrie feels her heart break as Bradley sniffles and sadly shoves a mustard-covered pretzel in his mouth, unshed tears clumping his eyelashes. She’s never seen her friend like this before; she’s experienced many other emotions - frustration, joy, confusion - but the pain creasing his brow is new.
Comforting crying people has never been her forte, but instinctively - almost like they moved without her permission - Sherrie’s fingers run over his hair. Gently stroking the sun-streaked waves as a few tears escape down his cheeks and she scoots closer, letting her body press into his side and hoping the proximity helps.
“I’m sorry for crying on you.” He quietly apologizes after a few minutes of tears.
“S’okay. Family can be hard sometimes.”
“Complicated.”
“That too.” She hums, not moving as he swipes at his eyes and leans against her more, his head resting on her shoulder in a slouched position that can’t be comfortable.
“I love Mav; he’s my dad in all the ways it matters. It just sucks that my actual dad won’t be here for graduation. Like, I know he’s missed so much of my life already, but something about him missing college graduation is worse than everything else. It’s just so unfair; I barely remember him, but I just- I just miss him so much, Sherrie.”
Her heart cracks in half at the whispered confession. She can’t even imagine the pain of losing a parent at such a young age. The inability to remember one of the people responsible for giving you life, all memories fuzzy and most built from second-hand recollections of those who can remember. So she says the one thing she would want to hear.
“Tell me about him.”
Sherrie knows she said the right thing when his red-rimmed eyes brighten, and he immediately launches into a beloved story detailing his father’s love of pranks. She listens dutifully — laughing at the right moments and asking questions when Bradley gets carried away, forgetting that she doesn’t know all the people in his story — and feels her heart warm more and more. She’s always liked Bradley, probably more than she should, but it’s hard not to like him. He’s considerate, smart, and funny, not to mention handsome.
Thankfully, before she gets lost in thoughts of broad shoulders and strong jawlines, a big glob of mustard drops on Bradley’s t-shirt, abruptly cutting him off. The two stare in silence at the yellow condiment sitting on the black cotton shirt, somehow surprised at its appearance, before breaking down into giggles.
“C’mon Bradshaw,” Sherrie grabs his hand, pulling him off the couch. “I have a Tide pen we can use on that mess.”
Bradley follows her up the stairs and into the bathroom, teasing Sherrie about the way her tongue pokes out when she focuses. She takes the gentle taunts, grateful he’s focusing on that and not on her pink cheeks or the way her eyes keep darting to his toned stomach. She’s not sure it was completely necessary for him to strip his shirt off, but she won’t be complaining.
“Well,” A few minutes later, she interrupts his rambling story about a slip and slide. Or she thinks that’s what it’s about; she missed the first part. “I think this is as good as I can get it.”
“That’s okay; it’s not like it’s new or anything. Thanks, Sherrie.”
She steadfastly ignores the pounding heart in her chest as miles of golden skin gets covered back up, trying to not feel too disappointed by its disappearance.
Friday, July 15, 2016 | 3:56 PM EST | Charlotte, NC
“Oh, this is ridiculous!” Bradley complains a bit too loudly, ears going hot when several pairs of eyes curiously dart toward him, but his focus doesn’t stay on that for very long when he catches the face Sherrie makes. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing!”
He squints suspiciously as she avoids eye contact. He usually takes her at her word and doesn’t push, but the frown pulling down the corners of her pink lips sets off bells in his head. “Sherrie, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing, Bradley. I’m fine.”
He grumbles at her lack of response but settles again in the spot they had claimed after finishing their snack. The gate was still packed, but they had found a prime location with outlets; the only downside was having to sit on the floor, something that is getting harder the older they get.
Bradley scans the area, trying to scout out some open chairs for them to grab, while Sherrie goes back to the movie they’ve been watching on his phone. His eyes drop away from the chairs in surprise when she scoots closer and leans on his shoulder. It’s not uncommon for them to sit close like this at home in Boston, sides pressed together, but she makes a point to be professional when they’re on travel.
“Hey,” he gently nudges her side, concern rising when she doesn’t lift her head, choosing to tilt her neck back, looking up at him with tired eyes. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
Panic grips his chest when tears start forming, clouding her green eyes. “Sherrie?! What’s wrong?”
“We were supposed to be halfway home by now, and I’m so uncomfortable. I’m sorry, Bradley, I’m just so tired.” She whimpers, hiding against his bicep.
It hits him like a glass of cold water. Of course, she’s uncomfortable. She’s been walking around in heels and her pantsuit since 4AM California time after getting maybe three hours of sleep. His suit and shoes are comfortable and easily wearable for twelve-plus hours, not to mention the jacket and tie that were ditched sometime after the mustard incident.
“Oh, Sherrie, it’s okay. Let’s go change, yeah? Then we’ll find a quieter place so you can close your eyes and maybe get some sleep.”
“But the policy…”
Bradley resists the urge to roll his eyes at her insistence on rule-following. “In the nicest way possible, Sher, fuck the policy. You’re uncomfortable, and I care about that way more than I could ever care about a stupid, archaic policy.”
He stands, unplugging their phones and gathering their bags on his shoulder before turning to his best friend, who is still on the floor. “C’mon, we’re putting comfy clothes on.”
“But Bradley-”
“No arguing.” He interrupts, helping her off the ground and directing them back towards the restrooms. “We’re not going to sit in our suits for god knows how much longer.”
“But Bradley, I don’t have anything to change into. We had such a packed schedule I didn’t bother to bring normal clothes.” He ignores the thumping of his heart when her hand grabs his forearm, warm fingers slipping under the edge of the rolled-up sleeve as she tugs to slow his pace. At that information, he slides them out of the flow of traffic and over to the wall, Bradley pressing her against one of the columns lining the concourse atrium.
“You don’t have any regular clothes? What about your pajamas?”
“I have a pair of leggings because I was going to do a training run in the gym last night, but that’s it. I can’t wear my pjs because… well, they’re not appropriate for public.”
“Your leggings are clean, though, right?” He asks, ignoring the thoughts of what non-public appropriate pajamas might look like.
“Well, yeah, dinner went so late I barely had time to sleep before we had to be up. I guess I could buy a shirt at one of the SmartShop- what are you doing?”
Bradley peers up from his knees, where he had started digging in his bag. “I’m grabbing one of my shirts for you. Would you prefer a t-shirt or a sweatshirt? Actually, you’re definitely gonna get cold, sweatshirt for you.”
He pulls the worn, gray crew neck out, shaking it out before handing it over.
“You still have this?” The disbelief in her voice makes him laugh.
“Of course, I still have that! Relay was always my favorite event of the year. And that year was my favorite one.”
As the philanthropy chair of Sigma Chi, part of his job was to sign the brothers up for volunteer events and fundraisers. With his mom’s diagnosis, he ensured their schedule included the campus’ annual Relay for Life event, pouring as many resources as he could into the fundraiser that directly helped advance cancer research.
“Wait, but why was junior year your favorite?” She asks, brushing her fingers over the cracked, screen-printed logo.
“Because that’s the reason we became friends, Sher.”
Surprised green eyes meet sincere brown eyes, a thousand words said in the silence of their stares, both remembering the lead-up to that day in April so many years ago.
Bradley’s eyes widen in panic as everyone at the gate starts moving as a herd. They had finally found seats to relax in after changing, the group of passengers waiting with them shrinking as time went on. And now, with only ten minutes until boarding, their gate has changed again.
“Sherrie, wake up!” He feels bad shaking the snoozing woman off, but they have to move with the group to make it to the new part of Terminal A in time for their flight. “C’mon, honey, they changed the gate again — we gotta go!”
“What are you- again?! Shit!” She wipes the bleariness from her eyes, slinging her bags over her shoulder and grabbing the hand he holds out.
The two coworkers, along with fifty of their fellow passengers who have stuck this out, speed walk down the first branch of the terminal. The entire group picking up the pace when turning the corner towards the second branch where the new gate lives. By the time they hit the second branch, everyone is practically running — time ticking down to boarding — no one wanting to miss this flight.
As if the blob of Flight 1121 passengers racing toward the end of the terminal didn’t garner attention from other gates, the entire terminal is staring by the time they reach gate A28, and several people start yelling in frustration.
“This is unbelievable!” An older gentleman’s unhappiness is interrupted by three simultaneous updates pinging everyone’s phones.
Bradley’s head drops back in disbelief, wrapping his arm around Sherrie when her head thunks against his chest. He doesn’t even get a chance to comfort her before the gate agents are making announcements about getting people on other flights, providing hotel rooms, and the vouchers that will be shared.
“Again, we apologize, but if you have flexible travel plans, we ask that you please go to the end of the line so those with time constraints can be taken care of first. Thank you for your cooperation, folks!”
“Well, that’s us, huh?”
“Yeah, I guess.” Sherrie blows air out of her lips, a mischievous smile taking over her face. “Hey, at least this means extra per diem money.”
Bradley laughs as they move to the back of the squiggly line that’s forming, letting her take the bags so he can step away to call to update their supervisor and then his pet sitter. It only takes a few rings for his boss to pick up. “Bradshaw! What’s up? You okay?”
“Hey Martin, all good. Just wanted to let you know that our flight has gotten supremely delayed. We won’t be home until tomorrow morning sometime.”
“Jesus, do you guys need anything?”
“Nah, we’re good. The airline is putting us up in a hotel for the night and giving vouchers for a bunch of stuff. Just called to let you know and for a heads up on the expense report.”
“Well, that is the most important part!” Martin’s honking laugh makes Bradley chuckle as he glances to check on Sherrie’s progress in line. “How’s Sherrie? She good?”
“Yeah, she’s good. She’s holding our spot in line for getting new tickets and stuff.” And it looks like she’s made friends already, he silently adds, smiling at her interacting with the elderly couple in front of her.
“Good. Alright then, I’ll see you on Monday, but let me know if you guys need anything. And hey! If you two end up in the same hotel room — remember what I said on your first day!”
The line goes dead, and so does Bradley’s smile, his stomach churning like it does every time he remembers his first day at the Wells Corporation.
Tuesday, July 10, 2007 | 11:15 AM EST | Boston, MA
“Will you calm down?”
“I can’t, Bradley. What if no one likes me? What if I fuck up?!” She hisses, working to appear calm as they wait for their supervisor to show up, but failing.
“First of all, we’re starting together, so you have at least one person that likes you. And you’re great, everyone will like you. Second, there will be mistakes, but we just graduated — they’re not going to let us do anything alone because we don’t know anything yet.”
Sherrie nods, tucking her hands under her legs and trying to breathe. Bradley’s words are encouraging, but he doesn’t know how difficult her internship was last summer. The older engineers she shadowed treated her like a glorified coffee girl and secretary. Even when she had pointed out a mistake they all had missed, there was no change — just the addition of making her type their reports to see if she could catch something the non-engineer tech writers would miss.
This is a brand new company, but misogyny wasn’t unique to Waite Green Construction. Every woman has to work twice as hard to prove her worth and intellect, no matter her age or experience. She’s just hoping her onboarding mentor will be the only other woman in the department; it would be the perfect way to gain a professional mentor once she’s out of the probation period.
“Good morning, kids! How was orientation?” Mr. Teresi walks into the conference room.
Bradley shakes his hand first, “It was good, sir. Nice to see you again.”
“Good to hear! Learn lots of new things.”
“Yes, I think we can be considered experts on trade secrets now.” Sherrie jokes, focusing on making sure her handshake is firm but not too firm.
“Wonderful. So, I’m guessing you two have been introduced, but just in case you haven’t. Bradley, this is Sherrie McHone; she’s an electrical engineer. And Sherrie, this is Bradley Bradshaw, a mechanical engineer.”
“We actually went to school together, sir.”
“We’re friends,” Bradley adds, the two of them exchanging small smiles.
“Oh, great! Well, that makes things easier getting started. Now let’s go over my plan for the two of you, and then we’ll get lunch, my treat for your first day.”
Their supervisor talks for half an hour, going over things they’ll need to be trained in and their first assignments. By the time he’s done, several notebook pages have been filled and highlighted with things that need to be looked up.
“Alright!” The older engineer claps, rubbing his hands together. “I’m sure your brains are overloaded with information, so go drop your things at your desks, and we’ll head to lunch.”
The recent graduates gather their notes and head for the door, quietly talking about a training they’ll be attending next week when he stops them. “One more thing, guys. They never mention it during R&D orientation, but I feel it’s necessary to mention it to new people. Here at Wells, there isn’t a fraternization policy among non-management coworkers or between any employees in different divisions. But we are a fairly small department, so keep in mind who you interact with and what impacts that may have at work.”
Sherrie feels the blood drain from her already pale face as her brand new supervisor stares at her the entire time he speaks, ignoring Bradley completely. She’s going to be sick. Less than four hours into the first professional role of her career, and it’s already happening.
This is the moment it starts, she thinks, her heart pounding in her throat as she robotically nods. It’s never the men that get these warnings. It’s always the women. Always us. Always me.
“I don’t care about that. But there are some people who will, even though they shouldn’t. And I want you guys to have the best experience here you possibly can. You’re both extremely bright, and I’m excited about your futures. I don’t want you to get bogged down by the opinions of others. Understand?”
“Yes, sir.” They answer in unison before filing out of the conference room.
“Sherrie, don’t worry about that. He’s just-”
“Trust me, Bradley. I know exactly what he was saying. I’m going to use the restroom, and then I’ll meet you guys at the elevator.”
“Sherrie…”
But she ignores her friend, shrugging her purse over her shoulder and keeping her face neutral as she heads for the single-stall ladies’ room. Fighting to hold the tears back until she’s inside for fear of being perceived as emotional. A quality no woman can afford to have in a professional setting.
Friday, July 15, 2016 | 8:05 PM EST | Charlotte, NC
“Hey, everything? Martin says hi.”
“We’re good! This is Mr. and Mrs. Ludden; they’re going to visit their newest granddaughter. How’re Sophie and Louis?” Bradley smiles at the excited way she introduces them, putting a steadying hand on her back when she bounces up on her toes.
“Oh, congrats! They’re good; Marie can watch’em one more day, problem.”
“Good, we’ll have to get her a thank you present for the short notice.”
“You didn’t tell us you guys had kids!”
Bradley and Sherrie freeze in place, eyes widening in surprise at the older woman’s words.
“Oh- uh- we-” Sherrie giggles awkwardly. “Sophie and Louis are our cats; we don’t have kids.”
“I’m so sorry!” Mrs. Ludden gasps, hand covering her mouth in shock while her husband groans her name.
“Louise, how many times do we have to do this before you stop making assumptions?”
“It’s okay, innocent mistake,” Bradley assures them.
“Well, they’re such a cute couple. I just thought they would have adorable children, too!”
“Actually… we’re not…”
“Oh, lord. Let me guess. You’re not dating. You’re just friends.”
“Coworkers too, but we were friends first.” Sherrie suppresses a laugh when the older gentleman rubs a hand over his eyes in exasperation.
“Don’t even start, Clayton!”
“I wasn’t going to, dear.”
Bradley can’t help the laugh that escapes at the comfortable ribbing they give each other; it reminds him of his friendship with Sherrie. The easy way they tease, never going too far.
“Would you two like to join us after we get rebooked?” Bradley asks. “We’re going to use our food vouchers tonight to grab dinner before we head to whatever hotel they put us up in.”
The four adults move through the line, chatting about small things and comparing pictures of grandkids and cats. It’s a nice way to spend the time, especially when they get to share judging looks when a woman throws a tantrum and yells at the gate agent. But soon enough, they’re walking back to the main concourse and deciding what food to get.
“No, stop. You just sit here with the bags, and I’ll grab the food.” Bradley gently pushes Sherrie back into her chair, rolling his eyes as he talks over her protests. “I know. You want mac and cheese, Diet Coke, and whatever pulled pork flavor looks best.”
“He’s sweet,” Louise says, watching the two men make their way over to the BBQ place.
“He’s annoying.” Which makes her companion laugh. “Yes, he’s very sweet. I’m lucky to be such good friends with him.”
“Can I ask why the two of you aren’t together? He even knows what food to bring you.”
“It’s just never been like that between us. We’ve always just been friends. And he’s annoyingly smart, so he always remembers what I order.” Sherrie half smiles, pushing down the pain in her chest at the harmless curiosity, watching Bradley laugh at something Clayton says as she remembers the first time he remembered one of her favorites.
Saturday, March 4, 2006 | 1:34 PM EST | Charlottesville, VA
“Thanks for meeting me on a Saturday, Bradshaw. It’s just such a busy semester.”
“No problem. You know you can call me Bradley, right?”
“Oh, sorry. Do you not like being called Bradshaw?” Sherrie blinks when a bottle of Diet Coke and a small bag of Skittles is set on the table in front of her. “What’s this?”
“Your favorite snack.”
“Right… but why?”
“Because you have that about 50% of the time when we meet up to work on this project. Now, I finished transcribing the interview with Commander Buck last night. Did you want to- Sherrie?”
She shifts her focus from the food to the boy across from her in the study nook they’ve claimed as theirs for the semester. “Why do you remember my favorite snack?”
“Because we’re friends?” Brown eyes look into hers, equally confused.
“We’re friends?”
“I hope so; otherwise, this is gonna get awkward when you hug me in a minute.”
“Why am I going to hug you?!”
Bradley laughs at her flabbergasted expression, but it doesn’t hurt her feelings like it does when other people laugh at her. Something about the tone of the laugh makes it feel like he’s laughing at her, but rather with her, and she just doesn’t know the joke yet.
“Because as team captain, I am happy to announce to the Relay Chair that Sigma Chi has officially raised $5,000 thanks to your idea.”
“Bradley, that’s incredible!” She doesn’t feel silly when she bounces around the table to hug his neck, rocking them back and forth in excitement.
“Well, if you think that’s good - let me show you what we’re anticipating to raise this month…”
Friday, July 15, 2016 | 10:12 PM EST | Charlotte, NC
“I just don’t understand how we’re having such bad luck!”
Sherrie rolls her eyes as he unlocks the door. “Bradley, breathe. You’re being very dramatic right now.”
“How is “we’re out of rooms” a legitimate reason for the hotel to give? Not that I mind sharing with you, but like how is that possible? The airline specifically works with them to book rooms for things like this! And the airline! That gate agent who wanted to book us to fly into Hartford and then drive the rest of the way to Boston! That's insane!”
“I don’t know, the Bradley flying into Bradley joke was pretty funny.” She mutters, clicking the lights on as she checks the cleanliness of the room.
“It wasn’t.” Bradley pouts, flopping onto the bed closest to the door. “Do you want to shower first?”
“No, go ahead, but I’m going to wash my face first so I can do a face mask. I’m so dry from the airport air.” He listens to the sounds of water running and the quiet humming as she carefully applies the drenched sheet to her skin. “All yours!”
“Thanks, Sher. I won’t be long.”
He showers quickly but takes extra time cleaning his teeth, his mouth feeling gross after the long travel day. When he comes out, he’s surprised at how cozy the room feels. With only one lamp on, the air conditioning set low to keep the fan running, and an old movie on the TV, it almost feels like they could be at home in his living room. They silently move around each other, Sherrie heading to the bathroom with a pile of things while Bradley organizes his things for the morning, wanting to get as much rest as possible before their early alarm.
He scrolls through emails and texts while he waits for her to shower, turning the television off since he knows there’s a small chance of either of them making it five minutes after they kill the lights. He's updating Mav on tomorrow’s travel plans when Sherrie comes out of the bathroom, her hair wrapped in a towel. Bradley sees her packing things out of the corner of his eye, not fully paying attention until he plugs his phone in.
“That’s what you wear to bed?”
“Bradley!” He laughs at how she jumps, her hands coming down to cover her shorts.
“What? They’re cute! Very pink.”
Her face goes as pink as the pajama set she’s wearing. “Stop making fun of me!”
“I’m not! You know, I love strawberries.” He can’t help the way his eyes roam up and down her body, admiring from the spaghetti straps on her smooth shoulders to the scalloped edge of her shorts. “I see why you didn’t want to change into those at the airport.”
“Oh my god…” She huffs, climbing into her own queen bed and stuffing herself under the sheets. “You set an alarm, right?”
“Yes, ma’am. Want me to turn the light off?”
“Please. God, this day cannot be over soon enough.”
He chuckles and turns the lamp off, listening to her shuffle around in the sheets as she gets comfortable. It’s quiet for a few minutes, and he can hear her breathing leveling out, but he can’t keep quiet; the conversation at the airport running through his mind.
“Sher?” It takes a second, but she quietly hums in response. “We have to talk about it again.”
“No, we don’t.”
“Sherrie-”
“No, Bradley. We talked about this two weeks ago. Nothing has changed since then.”
“Yes, things have changed since then. You interviewed for that principal engineer position. Which if you get-”
“I’m not going to get it. They’re going to pick Trevor.”
“They’re going to pick you. You’re the best person for the job!”
“That’s not how it works, and you know it.”
He’s silent, the crushing weight on his chest feeling heavier when he hears her sniffle.
“Oh, Sherrie…” He slips out of his bed and into hers, wrapping the woman he loves in his arms. He lets her cry, knowing she’s frustrated and exhausted, only speaking up again when she’s calmed down. “I’m sorry, honey.”
“No, I’m sorry, Bradley. It’s not fair that we’ve been dancing around this for so many years, and I keep saying no. You deserve someone who isn’t afraid to be with you. Not a coward like me.”
“You’re not a coward; you’re one of the bravest people I know, Sherrie Anne McHone. I know how critical people are of women, in this field especially. And I love you, so I don’t mind waiting until we’re in a position that you’re confident won’t jeopardize your career. So, we’ll wait to hear about the job, and once you hear that you’ve gotten it, I’m treating you to the nicest dinner in Boston.”
“Bradley, we don’t know-”
“I know we don’t know. But think about how it would be if it does. Wouldn’t that be amazing?”
“But what about-”
“Doesn’t matter, honey.”
“You don’t even know what I was gonna say.” Sherrie mumbles, cuddling further into his side, making it clear that he wasn’t allowed to leave.
“I know, but it doesn’t matter, whatever it is — we’ll figure it out.”
Saturday, July 16, 2016 | 10:32 AM EST | Somewhere over Virginia
“She’ll take a ginger ale; thank you so much.” Bradley balances his apple juice, the two packets of Biscoff cookies, and the bubbling soda he got for Sherrie. The smiling flight attendant moves past their row as he turns to his row companion.
They’re finally on their way home after waking up to more delay announcements. The additional time meant there was time to get coffee and some fruit from the hotel before their taxi back to the airport arrived, and the Luddens had even stopped to chat for a second at the gate, excited that they had gotten bumped up to first class since the flight was nearly empty.
All things considered, it had been a good morning even though Sherrie was insisting on working during the flight. Bradley is sure it’s an attempt to ignore their talk from last night, not wanting to dwell on the emotional moment when things are still so up in the air.
He looks over at the woman he’s known since he was eighteen, overwhelmed for a moment by how little things have changed since the first time he ever noticed her. Bradley fondly watches as she furiously types, hunched over her laptop with headphones, playing what he knows is eighties hair bands.
Her nose wrinkles in frustration, and suddenly it’s 2003 again, and he’s trying to get the attention of the red-haired girl whose table has the only empty chair left, something he desperately needs since this book can’t leave the library. He’s unable to get her attention and resorts to knocking on the table, heart skipping a beat when the prettiest green eyes he’s ever seen blink up at him. Bradley gestures at the empty chair, silently asking if he can sit, and is grateful when she nods because her smile is making his knees wobble. For the next hour, he tries to take notes for his paper, but he keeps getting distracted by the beautiful girl across from him. Bradley isn’t sure if he’s upset or happy when she packs up her stuff and leaves, giving him a little wave when she notices him watching her.
That had been thirteen years ago, and her intense focus still distracts him, but he’s not afraid to interrupt her this time. Fingers rub her arm that is covered in his sweatshirt again, but this time, he knows it smells like her shampoo instead of his cologne. Her smile still sends his heart skipping when she looks up at him, her pretty eyes widening in joy when she catches sight of the red snack packaging and the plastic cup holding her second favorite soda.
“Thank you!” She whispers, leaning across the empty middle seat in their row to kiss his cheek. “Oh, and we should go out to lunch when we get back! I want to try that new noodle place that opened in Southie.”
He just smiles when she immediately gets back to work; cheek puffed out from the cookie she stuffed in her mouth.
Maybe she’s not avoiding our talk from last night.
Thursday, August 11, 2017 | 2:15 PM EST | Boston, MA
“You got a minute?” Bradley knocks on the edge of her cubicle. It may be a different floor of their building, but all of the office space is the same dated stuff from decades ago.
“Yeah, what’s up?”
“First of all…” He ducks down and presses a swift kiss to her plush mouth, still trying to make up for all those years he couldn’t. “And don’t say anything because I already checked before I did because I wanted to kiss my girl.”
He chuckles at the pink spots that shine on her cheeks. It’s been a year since Sherrie snagged the promotion, and they officially became an item, but she still turns a little red whenever he says something sweet.
“Second, you are all packed, right?”
“Yes, why?”
“I was gonna swing by the apartment and get our bags so we can head straight to the airport after work.”
“You took the afternoon off? Why?”
Bradley was expecting this question and smoothly fibs. “I worked the hours out with Martin for this week so I could run a few last-minute errands. Do you want me to grab snacks?”
“Okay, Mr. Secrets. When you’re at home, could you water the ivy? I forgot this morning, and I don’t want it to die while we’re gone.”
“Of course! Need me to do anything else?”
Sherrie hums, staring at the ceiling as she thinks. “One more kiss?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Bradley happily complies with her request.
“Okay, now you have to go. I have to finish prepping for this meeting where I get to yell at Sean.”
“That’s my girl. I’ll pick you up later. I love you.”
“I love you, too. Have fun with your mysterious errands.” Sherrie teases, and Bradley smirks back, knowing how much she would be freaking out if he knew what he would be doing while she professionally reamed out their least favorite colleague.
“Thanks, honey. Text me if you think of something.” Sherrie waves over her shoulder, already zoned back into her work.
Bradley doesn’t dare look at his buzzing phone until he’s safely on the elevator, pleased to see confirmation texts from their hotel and the airline. Would it be cheesy to quietly propose in the airport that was a catalyst in their relationship? Maybe, but he knew Sherrie would love it. He’s just hoping the TSA didn’t call out the ring that would be hiding in his carry-on.
#deltasupremacy I also want to give a special thanks to @sometimesanalice, who gave so much encouragement through the texts despite having no idea what I was writing - you're the best! tagged some friends and most those who interacted with the original announcement post for this fic all those months ago!
tagging: @gretagerwigsmuse @sometimesanalice @laracrofted @theharddeck @hangmanbrainrot @hangmanssunnies @thesewordsareallihavetogive @princessphilly @katieshook02 @atarmychick007 @kmc1989 @a-court-of-roscoe-and-baby @misfitpeach @luckyladycreator2 @scarlettwidow19 @mini-bee-bee @midnightstarqueen @shamelessghostwagonwobbler
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#top gun maverick fic#top gun fic#bradley bradshaw fic#rooster fic#top gun maverick au#top gun maverick imagine#top gun au#top gun imagine#bradley rooster bradshaw fic#bradley rooster bradshaw x oc#bradley bradshaw x oc#bradley bradshaw imagine#rooster imagine#elle writes
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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
@lilianashomaresparza
@lovingperfectionsblog
@bblpbb
@Elenavampire21
@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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Say My Name
Requested: no
Summary: You find out just how big Bradley is. He really does live up to his call sign.
Word count: 3.4k
Note: banner by @lewmagoo
Warnings: smut, oral sex (f!recieving), fingering, anal fingering, size kink, overstimulation, unprotected sex, cum play. Please let me know if I missed anything!
Pairings: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x fem!reader
The air in the bedroom was filled with tension. You were on your third glass of wine and Bradley had just begun pouring his second. Nerves surged through you. Tonight, you were planning on having your first time with Bradley. While the two of you had been dating for nearly seven months, you had yet to sleep together. The thought had you nervously fiddling with the hem of your short skirt.
Bradley had made the two of you a nice dinner before leading you to his bedroom. Despite how much you wanted this, you couldn’t settle the butterflies in your stomach. Sure, you had slept with others before Bradley. However, given the things that you had heard about him from his fellow pilots, you felt more nervous than usual as you stared at the gold chain he was wearing. You had done some sexual stuff with the pilot before, but you had yet to see what he was packing. Honestly, that was what had you the most nervous.
No matter how hard you tried to ignore the teasing from the rest of his squadron about his size, you simply couldn’t. Not when Jake kept making crude remarks about his callsign having some sort of double meaning and teasing you about what he saw in the locker rooms. You could never get away from it. Now, you couldn’t help but find yourself staring at the bulge straining in his jeans.
His deep chuckle was what broke you out of your trance. “See something you like, Princess?” There was a teasing lilt to his voice. You blushed deeply, sipping the last drop of wine from your glass. “C’mere.” He rasped. Instantly, you obeyed, crawling into his lap and straddling his thick thighs. His glass was set on the nightstand before his hands came to sit on the tops of your thighs.
The tickle of his mustache as he peppered kisses across your neck had you squirming in his lap. You clenched around nothing at the guttural groan he let out. From where you were sitting right now, you could tell he was big. Moaning quietly, you nearly melted when Bradley gripped your hips and pulled you down closer to his growing bulge.
“Bradley,” You moaned out with barely concealed need. Another grunt was released into your neck. “Fuck,” Panting with your head tossed back, the feeling of Bradley’s lips travelling down your chest had you shivering. “I need you. Please.” It was the neediest sound you had ever made in your life.
Time seemed to stand still as Bradley lifted you off his lap. You whined at the loss of warmth before laid you down on the bed and crawled on top of you. Cooing quietly at your pitiful whine, the pilot smirked at your frantic state. As Bradley continued to kiss down your neck, your chest was rising and falling quickly. “I’m gonna make you feel real good, baby girl.” His words were a promise; one that you knew he would make good on.
Your blouse was slowly unbuttoned as Bradley peppered kisses across your soft skin. When he finally reached the last button, you were out of breath, panting loudly. Now, you were left in nothing but your lacy bra and short skirt. Unbeknownst to Bradley, you had nothing on under that skirt. Feeling Braldey’s mustache tickling the sensitive skin of your stomach had you wanting to giggle. But the pleasurable warmth in your core had you moaning out instead.
Next, Bradley began massaging your thighs, shimmying further down the bed until he was level with your thighs. You breathed in deeply, nerves rearing their ugly head again. Ever so slowly, Bradley reached under you and pulled the zipper of your short skirt down. It took every fibre of your being to focus your breathing. Bradley had eaten you out before, but knowing what would be coming after had you shaking.
Your legs parted enough so that Bradley could slot in between them, knees bending and feet planted firmly on the cool sheets. Before you even realized what was happening, Bradley had your legs tossed over your shoulder and he was softly nipping the sensitive insides of your thighs. When Bradley lifted his head, he was met with the sight of your bare, puffy cunt. He groaned loudly, his cock managing to harden even more in his tight jeans.
Seconds later you were met with the feeling of Bradley’s tongue running over your slit delicately. Instantly, a sharp cry escaped you. Tangling your fingers in your boyfriend's curly hair, you tugged when his lips sealed around your clit. The feeling had you arching off the bed, your heels digging into the pilot’s back.
For the next few minutes, the only sounds that could be heard in the room were your loud, wanton moans and the lewd sounds coming from between your legs. Bradley’s tongue was now prodding against your entrance, teasing you relentlessly. You found it hard to breathe as cry after cry escaped you. Slowly, your high began building. When two of your boyfriend’s thick fingers pushed meticulously inside your weeping cunt, your back arched so hard off the bed, Bradley had to pause to make sure you were okay.
The grin on his face when he heard your needy whines was nothing short of devious. Without hesitation, he returned to sucking on your clit and working his fingers in and out of your slick entrance quickly. “Oh!” You cried out from the delicious
Bradley was relentless. His thick fingers stretched you open deliciously, making a scissoring motion as he licked around your greedy hole. Your moans slowly grew higher and higher in pitch. Outside of your field of vision, Bradley brought his other hand up and between your legs. The sudden press of his thumb against your tight, puckered hole had you nearly screaming. “Oh, my god.” The words were slurred together. That familiar coil in the pit of your stomach was almost ready to snap.
The tip of his thumb suddenly slipped into your tight hole, creating a delicious pressure. More slick leaked from your slit. As Bradley’s fingers kept up their pace inside of your puffy cunt, the squelching sound got louder the wetter you got. There wasn’t a single coherent thought in your mind as Bradley’s thumb pushed further into your ass, his fingers stretched apart even further and his lips sealed around your clit. All at once, he sucked on your clit harshly, pressed his fingers into your sweet spot, and pressed his thumb in as far as possible.
You were so close. In a few seconds, you would be gushing around his fingers. “Bradley,” You panted, fingers gripping his brown locks like a lifeline. “Stop.” He froze instantly, eyes snapping up to meet yours. His fingers slowed until they stopped and his thumb moved to draw back. But when you whined at the sensation in your puckered hole, he stopped his movements altogether.
“Honey?” He started, rubbing your thigh softly and smearing your slick on your smooth skin in the process. “What’s wrong.?” It was whispered into the soft skin of your stomach The tickle of his mustache against your stomach had you giggling. Even though your core was clenching around nothing and you could still feel his finger moving slowly inside your ass. Regardless of the worry bubbling in his chest, Bradley smiled at the sound of your laughter.
You offered him a blissed-out smile, moaning softly at the movements of his thumb. “Nothin’,” At those words, Bradley slipped his fingers back inside of your dripping cunt. You were so wet that there was zero friction as he pushed them in until the second knuckle. You were instantly whiny again. “Wait,” You tried again. This time, Bradley only slowed his ministrations. “I wanna come on your cock.” The widest grin you had ever seen broke out on your boyfriend's face.
Teasingly, he leaned down and allowed his tongue to flick over your clit. A chuckle escaped him. You had no idea what you were in for. “Honey,” There was a teasing lilt to his voice. “You’re gonna need at least two before I even think about letting you cum on my cock.” His words caused you to let out a shuddering breath. Sure, you knew that he was big. After all, you couldn’t go anywhere without someone reminding you of that fact. But his words caused you to wonder just how big he was.
Before you could snark back, his thumb pushed in as far as it could and his lips sealed around your clit. Crying out again, your heels dug further into Bradley’s back and you pulled so hard on his curly locks you thought that some of the hair would come out. Instead, he groaned and began slurping harder. Within seconds, you were gushing around his fingers, cuming so hard you could have sworn you saw stars.
As you were coming down, Bradley drew his thumb from your ass and pulled his sticky fingers from your core. Your cum slowly dripped down your opening. Once you were coherent again, your eyes slowly looked down at Bradley. He was transfixed on the sight between your thighs. The tip of his index finger slowly began to swirl through the creamy mess between your thighs. It dipped shallowly into your opening and scooped out some more of your cum.
The overstimulation was almost becoming too much for you. Now, Bradley’s finger was swirling your cum around your sensitive clit. Your whines were breathly, so much so that Bradley could hardly hear them. Nevertheless, he continued, drawing moan after moan from your parted and chapped lips.
Within minutes, you were right on the brink again. Feeling that delicious pressure building faster than ever, you shifted your hips until Bradley’s face was, quite literally, buried in your slick cunt. As you tipped over the edge for the second time in a matter of minutes, Bradley stared at your expression in awe.
Your legs were shaking. So much so that Bradley was almost convinced he went too far. But when your eyes fluttered open, Bradley could see the pure pleasure swimming in your eyes. “How was that, Honey?” There was a low timbre to his voice as the coarse hairs of his mustache rubbed against your smooth thighs. Your breathing was heavy and your fingers couldn’t stop twitching, but you had never felt better. So that was exactly what you told him.
“That was amazing,” You sat up, half expecting Bradley to push you back down and pull another orgasm from you. Crawling up your body, one of your boyfriend’s large hands rubbed at your side before grabbing your tit. A soft moan escaped you before you grinned up at the pilot. “But, I think you know that I want something else.” Your words were punctuated with a soft squeeze of his rock-hard cock.
The groan that he released was nearly primal. With one last passionate kiss pressed to your lips, he slowly, almost teasingly, unbuttoned his jeans. Then, he peeled his black boxers off his toned and muscular thighs. Your eyes were fixed between his legs, not blinking as you came face to face with his sheer size. “B-Bradley,” You stuttered, beginning to shake slightly. Snapping your eyes up to meet his, your boyfriend had a smug grin on his face. “There’s no way that that’s going to fit.”
The chuckle that escaped him was nearly mocking. “Yes, it will.” Those were the last words he spoke before he was leaning over you again. His hard cock rubbed into your thigh while he was sucking dark marks that contrasted against your unblemished skin into the side of your neck.
After a few minutes of nothing more than kissing softly, Bradley finally pulled back. His hands were warm as they rubbed softly over your sides, an attempt to soothe you that didn't go unnoticed. “Are you ready, baby?” Regardless of the fact that you couldn’t tame the nerves fluttering in your stomach, you nodded. With a smile, he kissed your forehead. Against your skin, he whispered that he was going to get a condom and the lube.
You stopped him. For the first time tonight, you felt one hundred percent prepared for what was about to happen. “No,” Bradley looked at you confused, wondering why you had changed your mind. Kneeling next to him, you placed one hand on his bare chest, stroking the tanned skin softly. Seductively, you whispered in his ear. “No condom. I wanna feel you.” You were on the pill, and you knew that both Bradley and yourself were clean.
His breathing seemed to stop and then there was a wide smile on his face. You squealed when he kissed you passionately, laying you down on the bed and leaving you breathless as he disappeared in search of lube. The sight of his bare backside walking away had you giggling dreamily. When he returned from the bathroom, you were met with the sight of his shockingly large cock between his legs. At that sight, you didn’t laugh as much.
For the next few seconds, you and Bradley were quiet. Soft touches were shared between the two of you before your boyfriend pulled back once more. His fingers dipped between your legs, checking to see just how wet you were. A soft moan escaped you as he swirled your slick around your clit. The next thing you knew, you could hear the cap of the lube snapping open. Suddenly, you felt the cold drop running down your slit. A hiss escaped you before Bradley slipped his fingers into you once more.
The next few minutes were spent with Bradley opening you up even further than you already were. You could feel that familiar pressure building once more. But, instead of Bradley leading you over that delicious edge, he stopped right as you were about to tip over. You groaned.
With a chuckle, Bradley slowly crawled up your body. “You ready, baby?” You could only nod, wanting nothing more than for Bradley to be seated inside of you. As he poured some more lube onto his hand, you got a sinister idea. The thought had you smirking. However, you were stopped in your tracks as you watched Bradley wrap his hand around his thick cock. His fingers couldn’t even touch.
For the first time tonight, you found yourself focusing on his cock. It was long, longer than you had seen before and curved toward the end. His tip was an angry red colour and as he stroked himself, you could see the pre-cum leaking down his shaft. Your eyes traced the vein that ran up the bottom before your eyes snapped up to your boyfriend’s. He had caught you red-handed.
Now, you decided to act on your plan. Before Bradley could realize what was happening, you had flipped him over and were straddling his thick thighs. He looked up at you in shock. With one hand, you gripped his cock and with the other you stabilized yourself against his chest. Biting your lip, your eyes locked with his as you began to stroke him. After a few seconds of building up your courage, you slowly sank down on him. Your warm and slick cunt sunk down onto his fat, mushroom tip with hardly any resistance.
Within the first few seconds, you were a moaning mess. There was less than two inches inside of you and you were already losing your mind. You couldn’t even begin to fathom taking the rest of him. Bradley could sense that you were struggling, so, your boyfriend’s hands gripped your hips. Slowly, he helped you sink down onto him. The breath rushed from your lungs in a matter of seconds. Now, you were just over halfway down Bradley’s cock and you felt like you were being split in half.
“That’s it, Princess,” He encouraged you as your greedy cunt swallowed another inch of him. “Doing so good.” With careful movements, he pulled you down until your head was resting on his chest, the steady sound of his heartbeat under your ear. Ever so slowly, Bradley pulled down your hips until they were flush with his. The second he was fully seated inside of you, you let out the most pornographic moan Bradley had ever heard.
One of his hands grabbed your ass and the other cradled the back of your head. The next few minutes were spent with Bradley simply letting you adjust to his size. His sheer girth had you whining quietly against his skin, sticky with sweat. After about four minutes, Bradley planted his feet and shifted slightly. That caused the tip of his cock to press right against your sweet spot. Once again, you couldn’t help but moan loudly.
Ever so slowly, your boyfriend began rocking into you. With each thrust, Bradley would only pull himself out a little bit, leaving the rest of his pulsing cock stuffed inside of you. Then he would push back in, filling you to the brim once more. The feeling of his mushroom tip hitting your spot over and over again had you seeing stars. “Say my name.” It was more of a command than a request.
“Fuck, Bradley!” You cried out, hips beginning to raise and fall of their own accord. He grunted hips smacking into yours as he fucked you.
You grunted, feet planted firmly against the bed as he pistoned his weeping cock into you. “No,” He taunted, slowing his thrusts until he was hardly moving. “Not that one.” The realization of what he wanted you to do was almost enough to make you cum.
“Oh my god,” You rushed out, fist forming as you curled into his chest further. “Rooster!” It was almost a scream. The way the words rushed out of you so fast, Bradley was almost concerned. Almost. “Rooster, please. Please fuck me.” At that, Bradley moaned. He had never heard such a sweet sound as you begging for him to fuck you. It was music to his ears.
Loud moans and grunts filled the room as Bradley began to thrust harder and deeper. Now you were clinging to him, puffy cunt stretched out more than you ever would have thought possible. Your boyfriend gripped your hips harshly, raising you up on his thick cock before slamming you down onto him. That sent a sharp cry out of you, your face turning until it was buried against his chest.
Suddenly, your whole body tensed. Bradley, once again, had slipped his thumb into your tight ring of muscle. The moan that you let out was nearly a scream. Feeling his thick cock in your dripping core and his thumb pushing into your ass sent you reeling. “Imagine what my cock would feel like in this tight, little ass of yours.” He punctuated his words with a hard thrust. His thumb slipped out of your ass seconds later. The fucked-out look on your face wasn’t going away anytime soon.
This pattern continued for the next few minutes until Bradley's thrusts began growing erratic. You were so, so close. All you needed was a little bit more and you would be falling into blissful pleasure. Bradley gave you that little bit more in mere seconds.
His thumb pressed hard against your clit, rubbing the small pearl in circular motions. You found yourself clenching around him with your eyes rolling back. There was an obscene amount of your sweet release leaking out around your boyfriend’s thick cock. He held you carefully as you slowly came down from your high.
Before you had time to recover, however, your boyfriend was pumping his cum into you, thick, white ropes painting your walls. You shuddered at the foreign feeling. Regardless of the other guys you had been with before, you had never let any of them do what you and Bradley just did. His cock was still throbbing inside you. The feeling almost had you cumming again.
Ever so slowly, Bradley lifted you off his softening cock. It had you whining and whimpering. You clenched around nothing, his cum starting to leak out of you. It dripped onto his lap as he pulled your hips up. You were breathless as he set your hips down on his thigh, your cunt clenching desperately at the pressure suddenly placed on your clit. His arms wound around your stomach, holding you tightly against his sweaty chest.
In less than five minutes, you were drifting off against his chest, feeling his warm cum still dripping out of your puffy and abused cunt. Needless to say, the next day, you were walking with a limp.
a/n: Thank you for reading! Requests are open :)
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actually, it’s captain.
Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x f!reader
summary: request for @kpopgirlbtssvt. rooster’s girl is hit on by Top Gun students.
t/w: touch her, you d i e trope. cursing. mentions of alcohol.
Rooster leans against the bar, laughing at something Penny tells him. His jeans hang low on his hips, and he’s wearing the Hawaiian shirt you bought him for his birthday.
Rooster’s hand slaps the bar as he continues to howl. Penny and Mav exchange a look. Maverick murmurs something to Penny. Your guess would be “it wasn’t that funny.”
You throw back the rest of your drink. As your glass returns to the table, a group of men circle you, all clad in khaki. Must be new Top Gun recruits.
“What’s a pretty little gal like you sittin’ here alone for?” one of them asks you, his accent very similar to Hangman’s.
“Mind if we join ya?” the second asks. Before you can reply, two of the slide in across from you, while the one who spoke first sits next to you. His burly arm comes up around your shoulder. You stiffen under him, feeling small.
And not in the way you feel with Rooster. He makes you feel small, protected, but also empowered. This guy has a hold on you like he’s claiming you. Telling every other guy in the bar he plans on taking you home.
“This here’s Crane and Sorry,” he points to the two in front of you. “And you can call me Pleasure. As in, it’s a pleasure to meet you. As in, the way all ladies feel after a night with me.” He winks. He actually winks.
Your brain is so shocked, you can’t form words. You should take this guy’s arm and bend it behind your back, the way your dad taught you. You should give him on of your grade-a verbal lashings.
But you don’t. The sheer audacity of this man has you frozen.
You try to make eye contact with Rooster, but Pleasure’s frame blocks your view.
“Get your hands off my girlfriend, asshole.” Rooster’s voice makes a relieved breath come from your mouth. His tone of voice would make anyone run for the hills, but it leaves you full of wanting.
Pleasure chuckles, meeting Rooster’s gaze. “Actually, it’s Lieutenant.”
Crane and Sorry exchange an amused look. Rooster’s face is set in a hard line. He reaches for Pleasure’s bicep, ripping him from the booth.
“I said to get your hands off my girlfriend, asshole.” Rooster is a whole head taller than the aviator that just had himself draped on you.
“Shouldn’t leave your girl all alone, dick.” Pleasure tells him, bowing up. Rooster’s mouth pulls up on the left, giving him one of his infamous cocky smirks. Second only to Hangman’s.
“Actually, it’s Captain. And I hope to God you’re in one of my classes. Lieutenant.”
At this, you see Pleasure audibly gulp, knowing he’s fucked up. Rooster still has a death grip on his arm.
“Come on, man. Make my day,” the words come out laced with venom.
Before things can get out of hand, you hop out of the booth and high tail it to Penny. Quickly giving her a synopsis, she rings the bell, signaling these guys need to be thrown out. Hangman, Omaha, and Coyote each grab one of the guys and drag them to the exit.
Rooster joins you at the bar, taking your face in his hands. Those brown eyes roam over you, searching.
Your hands come up to cradle his face, “Roos, I’m fine.”
“When I saw him draped over you, I saw red. Nobody touches my girl.” He leans down to place a kiss against your temple. Rooster’s words have your toes curling in your shoes. You’ve never seen this side of him.
You lower your hands to his shoulders, threading one of them in his curly hair that’s definitely longer than Military regulation.
“You’re the only one I want touching me,” you murmur in his ear, your face flushing.
“Yeah?” he murmurs back.
Not trusting your voice to not come out completely needy, you nod.
“Come on, guys. Quit being disgusting,” Maverick says to the two of you, feigning gagging.
Penny pops his hand over the bar, eliciting a laugh from him.
Rooster ignores him, placing a deep kiss onto your mouth.
“Take me home, baby,” you say, taking in those brown eyes.
“I don’t know, pretty girl, I don’t think I can get further than the Bronco,” he winks.
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Somebody to Love
Summary: Attending a cookout hosted by Penny seemed like the perfect way to kickstart summer. Meeting and falling in love there wasn't on yours or Bradley's bingo list.
Warnings: Language, Bradley being a loverboy, female reader
For @roosterforme's Rocktober event! I'm so sorry it took so long and hope you enjoy it!
The first time you saw Bradley was at the Hard Deck.
He completely missed you, as much as it pains him to admit.
In his defense, his eyes were on the ivory keys of the piano, only looking up briefly to revel in the cheers from guests of the Hard Deck as he played.
You, in his defense, were just trying to get in and out. Considering it was barely seven, you thought you were coming in before things got rowdy.
You were mistaken.
The show he was putting on was nice to watch while you waited for Penny to be free. But that's all it was, a show. And after a while, you couldn't help but scoff. Was being in the Navy not enough attention?
The smile on Penny's face when her eyes met yours was worth the wait. You pulled out the coveted book from your bag, raising it in the air as if it were the golden ticket.
"Amelia is going to be so excited," Penny beamed as she took the book from you, "She's been talking about it for weeks!"
The mention of your former student brought a smile to your face.
Amelia was a student during your first year of teaching. You felt a kinship to the young girl, whose parents were going through a divorce at the time. You also saw that her love of reading was untapped, blocked by years of past teachers failing to help her learn how to read.
So you worked with her the whole year, and the summer after that, helping the girl catch up. One summer, Penny offered a bartender job when she heard you were looking for extra money. Over time, the Benjamin women had become more like family than your own.
It's why you stayed in touch. Why you took on extra shifts occasionally during the school year, when Penny truly needed help at the last minute. Why you made the trip out to the Hard Deck simply to give a book.
"Stay for a drink? It's on the house," Penny held up an empty glass, hoping the way it gleamed in the light could entice you into staying.
But you looked around, taking in how many people were there, how loud it was. How the man wearing aviators and a Hawaiian shirt was feeding the crowd with the piano rendition of a song that sounded familiar.
And simply shook your head.
"Should get going, it is a school night." The truth was, you'd rather be at home, in your bed reading than staying out late with a bunch of pilots.
Before you could say goodbye, Penny placed a hand on yours.
"Before you go Birdie, I wanted to let you know that we're celebrating Amelia's middle school graduation two weeks from Saturday. We'd love to have you there."
You smiled, sincerely flattered that they would want you present for such an event, "I'd love to. Will your man of the hour be there?"
A giggle escaped from you when you saw Penny's cheeks begin to turn pink.
Bradley swears if he had looked over at that moment, he wouldn't have let you leave the Hard Deck that night.
—------------------------
Bradley Bradshaw was not anti-romance, despite what his friends claimed, despite the numerous times he's turned down someone wanting to set him up.
The idea of romance did appeal to him. The idea of spending the rest of his life with one person, who loved him and wanted to grow a family with him, was very appealing in theory.
He wasn't against it at all. Just cautious.
Cautious as he witnessed first hand how dangerous his job was, how it tore families apart. Hesitant because he grew up with the aftermath- the support groups, the sympathetic looks, the empty dining chair that served as a loud, always present reminder of what he and his mother had lost.
He had been on dates, had been in relationships. They never went anywhere and Bradley was fine with that. The possibility that he may not come back from his deployments lingered in his mind, as did the image of someone receiving a flag and maybe his dog tags.
Why put someone through that?
“It's hard, but I wouldn't change a thing about it. You'll understand when it happens to you.”
His mother’s words rang in his ears. He knew she meant well. Bradley knew those words were true for her.
But he couldn't see them being true for himself.
So he came to Amelia’s graduation party with a vegetable tray and no date, despite Penny’s insistence that he could bring someone.
It's why Bradley walked straight past the kitchen, ignoring the unfamiliar voices. It's why he kept to the people he knew, rather than mingle with strangers.
And that was fine, enjoyable even. Things were going the way they always went, the way Bradley wanted it.
Consistent.
Bradley Bradshaw lived for consistency. Each morning, he'd get up and go to work. Work hard until his bones ache. Spend time with friends and the makeshift family he had found. Go to bed alone. Rinse and repeat.
Consistent.
Everything was just fine, until Bradley felt a hand grip his shoulder. When he turned around, he found Jake and his fiancé, Danica (or Venus, as everyone called her), looking at him.
“Your future wife is in the kitchen. Get in there.”
—-------------------------------
Bob saw her first.
It was hard to miss the sound of classic rock blaring from her red Subaru.
The sounds of eighties rock was a nice change from the Jerry Lewis and Sinatra music Bradley insisted on playing.
Even nicer was her voice. Sweet, smooth, light.
She was clearly in her own world, unaware she had an audience.
Nor would she. Bob knew better than anyone the pains of people walking in on him. So he quietly got out of his car, leaving her to finish the song by herself.
Reuben was the first one to speak to her.
Or rather, his daughter was.
Ava, always determined to explore, ran into the kitchen as soon as he set her on the ground.
It was easy to find her. Despite being only two, Ava had quite the voice on her.
Given her shouts about cookies, Reuben wasn’t surprised when he found his daughter in the kitchen, pointing excitedly to a plate of sugar cookies.
He was a little surprised to see that the person kneeling down to talk to her wasn’t Penny, but rather a woman he had never seen before.
“Is it okay if I give her a cookie?” She asked, motioning to the sugar cookie she was holding in her hand.
“As long as you're able to cut her off after two,” Reuben chuckled, “I'm warning you now, she can be hard to convince.”
You smiled, the corners of your eyes crinkling, the bridge of your nose scrunching up as you looked at Ava, “It'll be tough, but I think I can manage.”
Javy was the first one to try to include her in the picnic festivities.
“Hey, don't tell them this is what we’re calling them, but we’re playing beer pong against the old timers in the basement. You in?” He asked.
“Oh I'm good, but don't worry, your secret is safe with me,” She said with a gentle smile and a wink.
It was the fact that she sounded assured, content to stay in the kitchen and continue making small talk with some of the wives, away from the hubbub of the picnic, that made him not push.
Natasha was the first one to have an actual conversation with her.
In a sea full of testosterone, it was hard not to notice another woman. Especially one who looked around her age.
“So how do you know Penny?” You looked rather surprised by Nat’s question, surprised that another person had noticed you in the kitchen and decided to converse.
“Oh, I'm, well, I was Amelia’s third grade teacher. I tutored her for a couple of summers and have helped Penny bartend when she needs extra help,” you explained.
Natasha recalls Penny mentioning you a few times, now able to put a face to the name.
“So you're the teacher! Penny said we might see you at the Hard Deck this summer,” Nat grinned, hoping it would help her feel more at ease.
“I am! I'm still figuring out how exactly I want to spend my summer. First time I won't be doing summer school or tutoring,” you explained, continuing to wash the dishes that had begun to pile up on the counter.
“Any travel plans? Or family you plan to visit?” Nat asked.
You shook your head, eyes appearing dismal for a brief moment, “I don't have much family to visit. But I have been meaning to explore the area more, so I might do that.”
Natasha knew not to press. You didn't owe her any further explanation.
But out of all people, Jake Seresin was the one to make the connection.
“I’m sorry, but what did Penny just call you?” He asked, jamming a finger up his ear to clean it out, convinced he heard it wrong.
“Oh, Birdie!” you explained, flustered, “It’s um….it’s always been a nickname that friends and family have called me, ever since I was a kid. When I told Penny, she started calling me that too.”
Jake recalls the other details he's learned; a love of classic rock, vintage clothes and children, how your face lit up when someone spoke to you, as though you had been waiting an awfully long time to be noticed, to be acknowledged.
Your nickname.
It hits Jake like a fucking freight train.
“Excuse me, I have to go uh, um, find my wife,” he said abruptly, practically running out of the kitchen.
Jake quickly found his Venus, tapping her on the shoulder as he ignored the death glare Phoenix was giving him for interrupting.
“What is-”
“Birdie. Her nickname is Birdie.”
Danica’s amber-glazed eyes widened as she shot Natasha a knowing look.
“Where is she?”
Which is how Bradley Bradshaw found himself being dragged away from the grill and into Penny's house.
After all, Bradley didn't have too much common sense. He would insist he was alright, despite losing his beat as he watched his close friends fall in love and get married.
So they were just helping, helping him find somebody to love.
“Y'all are being ridiculous, just because she likes the same music-”
“It's more than that. You just need to see for yourself,” Jake explained, pushing him towards the kitchen. Inside, a sweet voice was talking.
“Peekaboo! I see you!” He could hear a big smile through your voice, “Now it's Ava’s turn!”
Bradley turned the corner to find you sitting cross legged on the kitchen floor, enabling you to be somewhat closer to eye level with Ava. You and the little toddler were both full of giggles as you continued your game.
Ava’s small hands flew up to her face, covering her eyes. It was an adorable sight, how she was trying to say the words. A bright smile adorned your face, eyes shining as you played with her.
“Where did Ava go?” You asked, pretending to look, “There she is!”
A warmth flooded Bradley’s heart as he watched this mysterious woman interact with Ava. It felt familiar,childhood memories of his mom flooding back. But this time, instead of feeling sorrow, a pleasantness surrounded him.
Strange.
Ava babbled, causing you to giggle once more.
“My name is Birdie. Can you say Birdie?”
Oh.
So that was why everyone thought this was his future wife.
It was a cute coincidence, nothing more. Yes, it was beyond endearing to watch you interact with Ava, you were obviously great with kids.
“Roo!” Ava’s coos of her special nickname for Bradley broke him out of his thoughts.
“What's a Roo?” You asked, your eyebrows knitted together in confusion. The puzzled look on your face was adorable.
“That would be me. Hey Ava girl,” Bradley kneeled down, his arms open wide, allowing Ava to run over and hug him.
You instantly recognized him thanks to the memorable mustache. But his smile and eyes were much softer now. His whole demeanor is less cocky and more approachable in Penny’s kitchen.
Bradley scooped the young toddler into his arms, grinning as Ava giggled.
“You being good? Trying to persuade people to give you more cookies by being adorable?” Bradley asked the toddler.
“I'm holding out strong. Don't want her dad to hate me for giving her a sugar rush,” You explained, a soft smile on your face as you watched him interact with Ava.
“See, the key is to make sure the sugar rush happens when he takes her home,” Bradley grinned, “That way he can't do anything about it.”
“I'm sure he can ask around regarding who gave her all that sugar though,” you retorted, facing the sink again to continue the dishes.
“See, that's where you have the advantage; you're not in the group chat,” Bradley balanced Ava on a hip, walking over to the sink to join you.
You were fun to talk to; able to hold your own with a soft, yet slightly mischievous smile adorning your face.
“I'm Bradley,” he explained, the spirit of his mother probably screaming that it took him this long to introduce himself.
“I take that's your actual name, considering that's way too normal to be your callsign,” normally you wouldn't tease a complete stranger like this. But he was easy to talk to and it helped that he was holding an adorable baby like a complete natural.
“It is. My callsign is Rooster.” The information caused your hands to still.
“Rooster?” It was too wild to be a coincidence.
“Yeah, when I was part of my first squadron, I was always the first one to be up. But I also had a tendency to be well, louder than what they would have preferred, which is how I got my callsign Rooster.” Bradley smiled as he recalled the loud complaints of his squadron, which always seemed to die down once they learned he was making breakfast.
“I, love that. Sorry, I, it's funny your callsign is that. Because it's like a nickname right? My nickname is Birdie,” your speech quickened as you realized you were rambling, “I know that nicknames aren't the same as callsigns. Well, in a way they are, they're both given to you for a reason, right? It's just funny how our nicknames are both-”
“Excuse me?” You looked up to see your savior came in the form of a bespectacled man who was standing by the door.
“I was threat-I mean, told by Danica and Phoenix that I needed to get Ava,” The man said, walking over to Bradley.
“Bo!” Ava exclaimed, reaching for the man.
“Sure thing Bob,” Bradley said, hanging over the toddler to his friend, unable to stop himself from rolling his eyes at his friends’ schemes.
“C'mon Ava, let's leave the two soon to be lovebirds alone,” Bob whispered, out of the room before Bradley could say anything.
“Did he just… “
Bradley sighed, “Gotta watch out for that one. He's quiet but can be cheeky when he wants to be.”
“As opposed to the others, who are just outright cheeky?” You asked.
Bradley chuckled, “You're catching on. Here, I can dry while you wash?”
He could be spending time with his squadron. Could be spending time joking with Mav’s old squad, making jokes and talking about the past that he was too young to remember. Could be anywhere but here in the kitchen, helping you do dishes.
And yet, he didn't mind it at all. Bradley was finding himself enjoying his conversation with you, despite knowing it would earn him several eye rolls and shoulder shoves from Danica and Jake.
You were surprised he was still here, that he hadn't found an excuse to leave.
It was a nice change.
“So you're the teacher Penny talks about?”
You laughed, “Is that who I'm known as? You're like the third person to ask me that.”
“Just shows how big of an impact you had.” Your cheeks warmed at the praise.
“You know, you just try your best. Make sure to listen. Helps that I'm also a child of divorce, you know? Had a lot of pointers,” you shrugged, but it was clear you were downplaying your efforts.
“Have you always wanted to be a teacher?” Bradley asked, wanting to keep the conversation going, despite the dishes being done.
You took your hands out of your pockets, fidgeting with the hem of your dress. Your shoulders shrug as a small smile spreads across your lips.
“Yeah. I love helping folks, especially kids. I was a camp counselor all throughout high school and I just….felt at home when I was helping other people,” you explained.
You leaned forward, the scent of jasmine flooding Bradley’s nostrils.
“It makes sense that I became a teacher. But if you asked me as a kid what I wanted to do as a grown up, I wouldn't have said teaching.”
Bradley leaned forward. With the sunlight hitting him, you could now see the lighter shades of brown that adorned his curls.
“A mom. I’ve always wanted to be a mom.”
“You'll understand when it happens to you.”
Oh. Okay.
That's when Bradley Bradley finally gets it. Because he's imagining life with you; moving in together, getting married, having kids. The risk is still there. But he'd rather live with that risk and you than not at all.
“I know that's silly, but it's true. I mean, it's not even an occupation-”
“I said I wanted to be a dad when I grew up.”
Your eyes light up at his admission, feeling at ease and less like a rambling burden.
“You must have had a really great Dad then.” There was a flash of sorrow in his eyes at the mention of his father.
“From what I remember. I was only four when he died, but….from what I remember, he was great,” his voice was softer now, his eyes showing he was in another place.
You inched closer to him, “I'm really sorry, I'm sure that was hard for you and your mom.”
“It wasn't easy. But she always said she wouldn't change anything. Never really understood that until recently.” His shoulder is touching yours, his long fingers inches away from your thighs. You were hyper aware of the closeness, unsure if moving away would be proper or offensive.
“Something helped you have that revelation?”
“Moreso someone.”
It's impossible to not notice the way his stare lingers on you, how his smile is warm and those whisky eyes are shining bright as he sends a wink your way. It makes your heart flutter; no one has ever looked at you that way before.
Nerves begin to overtake your brain, causing you to look away from his intense gaze.
“Should we um, get back to the picnic?” You all but mumbled. There's no desire to leave him, but you don't want to get your hopes up.
“Can I at least get your number before we do that?” Bradley asks, eagerly getting out his phone.
Bradley Bradshaw hates accidents, except for the one that led him to this kitchen, to you.
His forwardness is uncharted territory. There's no wondering or second guessing; Bradley wants to stay in touch, wants to keep talking to you.
It's nice. It's unfamiliar. It's exciting. It's sending your doubts and anxiety into a tailspin.
Your fingers fumble for your phone, opening up a new contact for him to fill out. His fingers brush against yours when he hands you his phone, little sparks flying up your spine.
Bradley simply smiles when your eyes look at the screen of his phone. Your brows knit together in confusion, the bridge of your nose scrunching up as you read over the words again and again, eyes surely playing tricks on you.
“Um, I think you made a mistake Bradley?” you hold up his phone, “The name for this contact is Mrs. Bradshaw?” It also has a heart emoji next to it, but that wasn't worth mentioning.
“Oh, it's no mistake,” Bradley grins.
The only sound you can let out is a confused huh.
“You just gotta put your number right there, and then you're all set.” Bradley points to it, an assured smile remaining on his face.
“Are you….are you going to change the name?” You asked, dumbfounded.
Bradley shrugs, “Nah. I'll know it's you. But I can put the word ‘future’ in parentheses if you want it to be more accurate.”
Your fingers have a mind of their own, typing in those desired ten numbers. Bradley takes his phone from your hands but not before placing a gentle kiss on your burning cheek.
His lips feel soft, the hairs of his mustache gently tickling your skin. When you turn your head, your lips are now inches away from yours.
You try to ground yourself, try to look away from his lips, try to ignore the warm, fuzzy feeling that's overtaking your body.
“Sorry Birdie, but I'm old fashioned. First kiss shouldn't be until the first date,” He winks.
What floors you more, his confidence or his bold desire for you?
Raising an eyebrow, you ask, “And when will that be?”
Bradley chuckles, “Whenever you want Birdie.”
He can't be serious. But what would he gain from leading you on, other than Penny’s wrath?
You straighten your shoulders, trying to hold your own against his large frame.
“Tomorrow at six,” You muster up all the confidence you can, preparing yourself for him to drop the act.
“Done. Do you prefer Italian or French?”
“Neither as I'm lactose intolerant.” This was it. Was he going to stop the act, once he knew it would require more effort.
“How do you feel about Thai? I know a great spot. Never been but it's been praised by Jake and Danica and let me tell you, that woman does not give out praise easily.”
You giggled, “I could tell. By the way, is there a reason he calls her Venus?”
“Short version; he's obsessed with her. Been that way since they met in the parking lot of a coffee shop. You should ask them how they met; they give different answers and it's hilarious,” Bradley explains, a gleam in his eyes as he thinks about one of his favorite couples.
“I'd like that. But if you go with me,” you asked, “Kinda random to just walk up to a couple you don't know and ask how they met.”
Again, you expect Bradley to falter. He's clearly more outgoing than you, so why would he want someone whose first instinct wasn't to strike up a conversation with strangers?
“I will, but only if you confirm we’re on for Thai tomorrow at six.”
Surely, he couldn't be serious. But that sweet smile and shining brown eyes said otherwise.
“You really gonna take me out?” you crossed your arms over your chest.
“Of course! I mean, I'm more than happy to take you out tonight, but you said tomorrow, so I'm sticking to it. Plus, it gives me time to get you flowers. Speaking of which, what are your favorite? You seem like a sunflower gal,” his eyes reminded you of an eager puppy, absolutely endearingly adorable.
“What makes you think that?” He was absolutely right, but you wouldn't let him know that yet.
Bradley shrugged, “When you smile, it reminds me of sunshine. Also, if it want to get technical, birds also like sunflower seeds.”
You couldn't help but throw your head back and laugh. Your laugh was sweet, bursting with joy. It calmed down Bradley’s racing heartbeat.
“And what should I get you, Rooster? Corn meal?”
His corniness almost made you forget that he literally compared you to the sun.
Almost.
His laugh was deep, bellowing deep from his stomach, making you feel warm all over.
“You kill me Mrs. Bradshaw, now let's go get you that story,” He gently takes your hand into his, entwining his fingers with yours.
The nickname makes you less confused and more certain Bradley would be sticking around.
#my writing#bradley bradsaw x reader#bradley bradshaw#bradley bradshaw imagine#bradley bradshaw fic#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw fanfiction#bradley bradshaw x female reader#bradley rooster x reader#bradley rooster x y/n#rooster x reader#rooster x you#rooster bradshaw#rooster top gun#bradley bradshaw fluff
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If It Makes You Happy - Part 1
➪the one where you give bradley your heart and he breaks it.
Warnings: smut, angst, fluff, unprotected sex, age gap, 18+, swearing, alcohol consumption, hair pulling, small pain kink ig, jealousy
Word Count: 5.3k | Part 2, Part 3, Part 4
Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡
“God, you feel so good,” Bradley’s deep voice sent chills down your spine. Your hands trailed up his back and gripped his shoulders as his hips hit yours over and over again. “Fuck, baby.”
His words, mixed with his raspy voice, went right to your core, where you greedily sucked him in deeper.
Bradley groaned loudly, dipping his head down to suck on your collar bone. He wasn’t usually one for hickeys at his age, but he found himself loving to both give them and receive them ever since you and he first started this whole situation.
“Just like that,” you whimpered, squeezing your eyes shut tightly when you felt his lips pepper kisses all over your neck.
“Like this?” He mutters as he fucked into you, making you see stars behind your closed eyes.
“Yes,”
One of his hands reaches down to wrap your leg around his waist, making him reach even deeper in you. “You like that, baby?”
“Yes,” you say again, sliding one hand up to tug on his hair. “Please.”
Bradley grunted at your relentless tugging, the feeling of your fingers threading through his hair adding to the overall pressure currently building within him. “Fuck, you’re so hot,”
If he thought you were hot, he must not be aware just how damn near edible he is.
He continued to suck mark after mark onto the skin of your neck, all while his hips rocked into yours with a friction that had you digging your nails into his bicep. One thing you both discovered was that Bradley had a bit of a thing for pain. He loved when you marked his skin with your nails or bit on his bottom lip whenever you kissed, but the thing he loved most was when you tugged on his hair in a death grip. The sore scalp and minor headaches he’d endure later on were so worth it.
So, as you raked your nails down his arm, Bradley just grunted against your neck, driving himself impossibly deeper into your inviting walls. “Yeah,” he breathed out, lifting his head so his lips brushed against yours. “I’m close, too, baby.”
After doing this with you for nearly half a year, Bradley knew your body like the back of his hand. He knew how to get you off in every way possible, and he knew when you were close to that sweet peak of relief.
Using the hand that wasn’t keeping him propped up above you, he presses the pad of his middle finger against your clit, which was still swollen from when he went down on you earlier.
The added stimulation had you crying out, your fingers tightening in his hair as you came for the second time since you arrived at his house. “There you go, give it to me,” he muttered and his words somehow managed to prolong your high. “So good, letting me fuck you when we’re supposed to be with our friends.”
As he continued to fuck into your warm and inviting core, you keep your hand tangled tightly in his hair and tug a bit harder, knowing that it would add to his pleasure.
You were right, as he groaned against your mouth, a mantra of “Fuck,” leaving his kiss swollen lips when he came.
He fucks his release deeper into you, your greedy walls taking everything he gave, before he comes to a stop and lays his body gently down on top of yours.
You release his hair and softly massage the top of his head, smoothing out the messy strands. As you bask in the afterglow, Bradley presses kisses to your bruised skin, a faint smirk on his lips at the sight of your hickey covered neck.
“I’m gonna miss this for the next six weeks,” he confessed and you had to calm your racing heart before it jumped to any conclusions.
“What? Fucking me?” You ask with a quiet laugh, moving your hand to trace your fingers along his sweaty shoulder.
“Fucking you,” he confirmed with a nod, making your smile fade a bit as he continued, “Kissing you, falling asleep with you in my arms. Just you in general.”
That made your smile reappear, and you moved his head so he was looking into your eyes. “You’re going to miss me? Or my body?”
Bradley pressed a chaste kiss to your lips. “You,” he answered before he was standing up and holding his hand out to you. “Come on.”
You take his hand and let him pull you up and off of his comfy bed. “Where are we going?”
He steadies you in his arms, a proud smirk on his lips at your inability to stand up on your own because of the number he did on you. “Since we’re already half an hour late, why don’t we make our friends wait a bit longer?”
You smile up at him, letting him guide you towards his bathroom. “What did you have in mind?”
He kisses you deeply, his free hand tangling into your messy hair. “Come join me in the shower and find out,”
-
You and Bradley showed up a whole hour after your promised arrival time, but neither of you cared too much.
After your shower, you complained that you didn’t have anything you needed at his house, and his reply was one that you were still thinking about now, “You know, it’d be a lot easier if you just kept some of your stuff at my place. You’re here all the time, yet you’re still always unprepared for these kinds of things,” he was referring to your complaint that all of your makeup was at your house, and you had just scrubbed your face clean of the natural look you applied before you got there.
“What, you’re okay with me keeping my makeup all over your bathroom counter so I can reapply it once you’re done fucking it off me?” You had asked, half joking and half totally serious.
“I don’t care, I’m barely in there, anyway. The room could use some personality,” was his response, and it had your mind thinking about things you didn’t usually allow yourself to dwell on for too long.
Nearly six months you’ve been sleeping with him. Six months.
And it’s been five months since you broke rule number one and fell for him.
It was simple, easy, casual.
You started out as nothing. You were a friend of Jake’s, and that in itself was a surprise, so it wasn’t much of a shock when he invited you to go with him to the Hard Deck. When Bradley arrived at the bar a few minutes after you and Jake did, he didn’t pay much attention to the girl under the blond’s arm.
Jake was definitely a ladies man, so to see him with his hand wrapped around a girl’s waist wasn’t all that surprising. He played pool with Nat for a bit before making his way over to the bar, barely acknowledging Jake as he ordered a beer. “Hey, Rooster!” The man greeted, his own beer sloshing around in the glass as he moved towards him.
“Hangman,” Bradley muttered, hoping Penny would hurry up and hand him his drink.
“I want to introduce you to my friend, Y/n,”
That had Bradley turning his head in slight curiosity, a little shocked to hear that the girl currently stuck to his side was only a friend. When his eyes meet yours, his stoic expression drops.
You were beautiful, to put it simply.
He sweet talked his way into getting you to play pool with him, and later ended the night with you sprawled out on the back seat of his Bronco. He found himself under you, on top of you and in you several nights out of the week after that, and now the whole arrangement was about to be hitting the half a year mark.
It started out casual; he’d be there when you needed him, and you’d be there when he needed you.
The decision to not label it was a mutual one as you both believed it would be the best way to go about things.
Only a month in was when you offered to sleep together without protection. You confessed that he was currently the only person you were seeing, and he also admitted that he wasn’t sleeping with anyone else as well.
As the months went on, Bradley began getting more affectionate with you, especially in public and in front of the other guys. While you were sure you were falling for him, he had also been acting as if he was more than just a friend with benefits.
He offered you to sleep over every time you found yourself underneath him well into the night, and he woke you up each day with a good morning kiss and smile.
He lets you wear his clothes, use the appliances in his kitchen and even asks you to stay for dinner most nights.
All in all, he was the perfect boyfriend, but he wasn’t your boyfriend. He just acted like it.
There was a bit of an age difference, with you being twenty five and him pushing thirty five. While he had never explicitly said it bothered him, and he sure as hell never acted like he had a problem with it, you assumed that was why he had yet to make it official with you.
You weren’t reading too much into this, right? You couldn’t be.
He was all over you when you were around, and texted you constantly when you were away from him. He wanted you to feel comfortable wearing his clothes, didn’t care if you ate the leftovers he was saving, and had told you on more than one occasion to start keeping some of your things at his house.
And you had started to, kind of.
Your phone charger was plugged in next to his, a few of your shirts and jeans were currently in the washing machine along with his own, and your beloved hoodie you got from your uni days had a seemingly permanent place on the left side of his bed.
There was no way you had been given the wrong impression, right?
Right?
As soon as you entered the crowded bar, your face makeup free and one of his old vintage shirts tucked into your jean shorts, Bradley was pulling you with him to where Nat stood next to the pool table. “Hey, Rooster,” she greeted as she handed him a cue, nodding in your direction. “Rooster’s girlfriend.”
You expected him to correct her, but he surprised you by just shaking his head and laughing quietly, pulling you closer to his side. Your face heated up as you met Jake’s eyes from across the room, and he smiled as he waved you over to where he was sitting at the bar.
“Hey, I’ll be back in a sec,” you tell Bradley, and he leans down so he could hear you better in the loud bar. “I’m going to go get a drink, you want one?”
“Just one,” he answered before placing a kiss on your lips. “Hurry back so you can watch me kick Nat’s ass.”
Nat slapped his arm as you walked away, a dumb grin on your lips as you made your way to the bar. Jake welcomed you over with an arm around your shoulders and a kiss to your cheek.
“Hey, Jake,” you say as you rest your hand on his chest.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he answered, eyeing something behind you with a sly smirk. “Don’t look now, but your guy friend is glaring at me as if you’re his girlfriend or something.”
Despite his words, you turn and look at Bradley anyway. His brown eyes were on the two of you, furrowed and clouded over with what you think is jealousy. You held back a forming grin, your face heating up at the fact that he was getting jealous at the sight of you with another guy. Maybe it made you seem selfish, but you loved that he didn’t want you to be around other guys in the way you are currently with Jake.
“He does realize that I’m the one who introduced him to you, right?” The blond asks and you just shake your head, leaning over the bar and ordering two beers. “You’re not official, right?”
You clench your jaw at the reminder and shake your head, “No,”
Jake takes a swig of beer as he runs his hand up and down your back in a friendly kind of gesture. “Then I don’t understand why he’s coming over here right now,”
At that, you turn just in time to see Bradley step into your space, his hand on your arm as he tugged you away from Jake. “Hands to yourself, Hangman,” he says coldly, eyeing the other man with a suspicious glance. “We both know I’m the one who’s taking her home after this.”
His words dripped with a sense of possessiveness, and the whole thing had a surge of lust flow through your body. “My intentions are pure, Rooster,” Jake winked at the two of you as Bradley pulled you into his side. “You don’t need to worry about me.”
“Is that right?” Bradley questioned but didn’t really care for the answer.
“Relax, Bradley,” you murmur, handing him one of the beers. He didn’t take his eyes off Jake as he blindly took it from you, the cool bottle a nice contrast against his heated skin. “I came here with you, remember? That means I’m leaving with you, too.”
That had him meeting your eyes with a proud smirk on his lips, seemingly satisfied with your words. He gives Jake an over exaggerated shrug before pulling you along with him. “Later, Hangman,”
He tugged you over to the pool table once again, his hand sliding from your arm to your hip, where he squeezed slightly. You settle against his side, this position feeling more like where you were supposed to be than just an embrace.
Staying true to his word, Bradley took you back home a few hours later, and you spent the rest of the night wrapped around him in more ways than one, and giving in to his quiet plead of, “Stay with me tonight,”
It was the fifth night in a row he’s asked you to do that, and the fifth time you’ve said yes without hesitation.
-
The next morning, Bradley woke you up by going down on you until he had you coming twice. He didn’t ask you to return the favor, simply muttering something about “Needing his fix to start the day,”
You help him pack any last minute things, before driving him to the dock in your car. This would be his second deployment since this whole ordeal started, and this time you were completely in love with him. You weren’t sure how you would cope with not seeing him for six weeks, and you wanted him to know that you’d be thinking about him the whole time he was gone.
As you stood with him on the dock, you gazed up into his brown eyes with a sense of longing. “Thanks for coming with me this time,” he spoke quietly, making you grin up at him.
The first deployment was just two weeks into your situationship, and since you weren’t really all too familiar with everything that made up the marvel of a man named Bradley Bradshaw, you stayed home and sent him a simple text that wished him luck.
“Of course,” you reply, inching closer to him when his hands found home on your waist. Your eyes trailed over the scars on his cheek, and you refrained from reaching out to trace them with your finger. “I’m going to be thinking about you every single day, you know.”
This was it.
Bradley smiled down at you, leaning in and running his nose along the edge of your jaw. “You will?” He hummed, pressing various kisses to the marks he had left on your neck the night prior. When you nodded, he pulled back and took your chin between his thumb and index finger, guiding your lips to his in a lingering kiss. “I bet I know what part of me you’ll miss most.”
He was teasing you, but you were about to put your heart in the palm of his hand. “I’ll miss all of you,”
Bradley grinned and took you into his arms in a tight embrace. “I’ll miss you, too,”
From his hunched over position, your mouth was right next to his ear, meaning he was at the perfect height for you to whisper, “I think I’m falling for you,”
There it was.
You had given him your heart. It was his to take, and you supposed it was also his to break, as it was like a switch flipped inside him.
His body tensed against yours, and you immediately regret ever opening your mouth. Before you could take your words back, Bradley pulls away and keeps his hands on your waist as he mutters, “What?”
You felt your eyes burn instantly, your lower lip threatening to quiver as you stared up at him. “I..” You weren’t sure what to say. You had clearly mistaken your role in his life, and you wished you had never said anything. You had completely fucked things up. But there was no going back now. “I’m falling for you, Bradley.”
His eyes flicker between yours before he stands back up to his full height. “That’s what I thought you said,” he muttered under his breath. You feel your heart fall as he steps away from you, his arms dropping back to his sides. “Fuck, I wish you didn’t tell me that.”
You quickly begin building walls up around your heart as you stand your ground, swallowing harshly as you ask, “Why not?”
Bradley’s eyes turn cold as he answers you, “Because that wasn’t what this was supposed to be,”
It was as if that was the most obvious answer in the world.
You shake your head and wrap your arms around yourself, glancing around at the many people who were sending their loved ones off with sad smiles and hugs. “I’m sorry. I can’t help how I feel, Bradley,” you say quietly and he just scoffs.
“We were just having fun, Y/n,” he says and grabs his bag that he had set down on the dock when you arrived. He slings it over his shoulder and places his aviators over his eyes. “That’s all this was. You’re ten years younger than me, what did you think was going to happen here? We’re in two different places in our lives, and I thought that was obvious.”
You break eye contact as the first of many tears begin to fall. “It wasn’t,” was all you managed to say before he was sighing heavily and backing away from you.
“If that’s the case, sorry for leading you on,” he said as he turned and began walking up the ramp. He had only walked about four steps before he stopped with a heavy sigh. He turned to glance back at you, seeing that you hadn’t moved from your spot, and you hadn’t taken your eyes off the wooden dock below you. “Look, I don’t want to leave it like this, but I need to go. I’ll call you if I can, okay? We’ll talk more about it when I come back.”
You just nod, not bothering to lift your head and meet his eyes.
Without another word being shared between the two of you, Bradley steps onto the carrier deck and waits to be shipped off. Though he knows he shouldn’t, he glances up at the dock and his heart falls at what he saw.
You were still where he left you, but that was when he finally caught sight of the tears that were steadily rolling down your face. You did a pretty good job at hiding them when he was right next to you, but now that he was far away, you had lifted your head and he was given a clear view of your pretty face as you cried.
He realized then that he had royally fucked up, and he needed to make things right before he left for a month and a half.
Bradley watched as an elderly woman gently placed her hand on your arm, surely thinking that you were crying because you were sad about having to say goodbye to your loved one, when in reality he had just broken your heart.
As you began making your way through the crowd and towards your car, he cursed under his breath and fumbled around in his bag for his phone, regret filling his body as he clicked on your contact.
He watched as you stopped walking through the crowd and pulled out your phone, and to his surprise, you actually answered. “What?” You sounded so sad, and it only made him further regret the words he said to you.
It wasn’t even the truth, and he hoped you would give him the chance to explain that to you. He needed to be quick, though, because he knew he would quickly lose service once the carrier started moving. “Baby, I’m sorry,” he rasped out, his heart skipping a beat when he saw the way you turned to look over at him. He tried to meet your eyes as he continued, “I’m sorry, okay? Let’s talk about this now.”
You furrow your brows and shake your head. “There’s nothing to talk about, Bradley,”
“Yes, there is,” he insisted, feeling his heart drop once the carrier started to pull away from the dock.
“There’s not,” you muttered. “I mistook my place, disrespected your boundaries and that’s on me. Completely my fault.”
“No, that’s- no,” he begged but he knew he didn’t have enough time to get through to you. “Please, just, wait for me. I’ll call you as soon as I can, we’ll talk and-”
“And what, Bradley?” You cut him off. “You said it yourself; I’m too young for you. Too immature. It’s best if we just end this now so we can both stop wasting our time.”
“You’re not a waste of time,” he said quickly, watching as your form slowly began to disappear the further he drifted away from you. “I’ve loved every second I’ve spent with you, and I think I’m-”
Before he could also give you his heart, you had broken it with a simple sentence, “You’re cutting out,” and you were, too, but somehow your last few words were crystal clear. “I know where we stand now. Goodbye, Bradley.”
And then you hung up. And he was left to drop his hand back down to his side in defeat as he silently prayed he was able to call you within the next few days.
-
A whopping six hours had passed since Bradley had been shipped off when he found himself missing you.
His arms ached to be wrapped around you, his lips missed the taste of yours, and his heart longed with a sense of need to know that you would still be his once he returned home.
His.
Bradley had to laugh.
You weren’t his.
He hadn’t managed to step up and ask you to take things to the next level yet before he was ruining everything. He hadn’t given a possible real relationship with you a chance.
God, he was so mean, belittling you as if you deserved to be treated with anything other than respect and kindness. He acted like a proper asshole, and he deserved to feel all the things he felt right now.
Shame. Guilt. Regret. Anger. He felt all of it all at once, and he hated himself for hurting you.
Had he known the sad sight of you crying because of him was all he needed to get his act straight, he would’ve told you he loved you when you confessed to falling for him back on the dock.
Bradley loves you. Why did it take losing you for him to realize that?
A couple weeks passed before he was allowed the opportunity to call you, and as he put your number in, he found himself praying to anyone that may have been listening that you would answer.
He felt a little more than deflated when it rang five times before he was sent to your voicemail. He listened to your sweet voice ask him to leave you a message, and he did, but he also knew you wouldn’t be able to call him back once you listened to the message.
If you listened to it at all.
“Hey, sweet girl. I… God, I wish you picked up, but I understand why you didn’t. A few weeks ago…fuck, I was so out of line, baby, and I’m sorry for that. I didn’t mean what I said. I didn’t mean any of it, I’m just a fucking idiot when it comes to this kind of thing and I threw all my issues on you, and you didn’t deserve that,” Bradley waited a beat or two before he continued, “I’m so sorry. I miss you, and I know I have no right to ask this of you, but I hope I can see you on the day I get back to San Diego. I only have just under a month to go, and I can’t wait to see you and talk about this in person, if you’ll let me.”
He felt pathetic, leaving you a sappy message you couldn’t even reply to.
“I’m sorry, again, and I hope things have been going well for you,” he ended the message after that, reluctantly hanging up and returning back to his bunk, where he threw himself down on the bed that felt too empty without you by his side.
-
It went on like that for weeks.
Bradley would go to sleep, wake up, complete whatever he needed to do for the day, then do it all over again, all while thinking about you.
He was counting down the days until he was able to return home and back to you, but he wasn’t sure he even had the right to seek you out once he was off the carrier.
He had called you again a few days ago, and you had once again given him your voicemail. Two calls in, and it was silent on your end. He missed you terribly, missed your flowery scent, your kind smiles, your voice, and the feeling of your body tucked against his.
Yeah, he missed the sex, but he missed you more. All of you.
You were so close to being his. You had put your heart on your sleeve, completely his for the taking, and he rejected you. Like a fucking idiot.
He knew he would get an earful from Nat once he got back, and he was honestly looking forward to it. He knew he deserved it, and he couldn’t think of a better person to call him out on his bullshit than his best friend.
Another week flew by after he successfully completed his mission, and he was a few quick hours away from the same dock he had left you on a month and a half ago.
While he didn’t expect you to be there to greet him once he stepped off the carrier, he still felt his heart break a bit as he finally let it all sink in. A few feet from where he stood now, he had broken your heart.
He dropped his bag onto the dock below him as he pulled his phone out and called you, once again disappointed when he was sent to your voicemail. Before he could stop himself, he left you a message, “Hey, it’s me. I’m back home now, and I still really want to see you. I want to try to explain myself and why I said the things I did. I’m still so sorry, Y/n/n, really, I am,” he ended it after that, and used the last bit of battery he had left to call Nat in hopes she would come and pick him up.
Like he expected, Nat did end up chewing him out during the entire ride home, and even in his own driveway. Bradley just sat there and took it, knowing he deserved every harsh dig that was thrown at him and more.
When she angrily reached over and hugged him in the car, she promptly told him to get out and that she would see him later at the Hard Deck.
Bradley unlocked the front door and stepped into his house, the silence being the last thing he wanted to be met with. You were in your twenties, you were young and loud and cheerful, he had gotten so used to how chaotic his life had become since you entered it. It was chaotic in the best way, and he missed the loud laughs you would emit as he carried you down the hall to his room, or when the two of you would skip out on beers with your friends to watch a comedy in his living room instead.
He sulked his way to his room, and his heart deflated even more at the sight he was met with. Nat had gone on about how she had to use the key Bradley gave her to let you into his house while he was away, and how she was confused about that until now.
Gone was your phone charger and old movies you kept by the TV he had on his dresser, and he was sure your clothes in his laundry room were picked up as well. The left side of his bed was bare of your uni hoodie, a thing he had a strong amount of fondness for.
Coming home to a quiet house was one thing, but walking into a bedroom that lacked any personality at all was something else. The small things you kept in there made it appear more lived in, more cared for than he had ever tried to make it look, and he once again was reminded just how much he had fucked up.
You made him happy, were the reason he looked forward to the end of his days because it would likely mean he would end them with you, like he had been for the good part of the last six months.
Bradley let out a frustrated sigh as he threw his bag onto the bed. He plugged his phone in before heading into the bathroom, his eyes glancing at the spotless counter. A few of your face washes and creams had taken up space next to the sink the last time he was in here, but now they were gone too.
He quickly realized how much he loved having your things at his house. God, did he miss you.
After the quickest shower of his life, Bradley got dressed in jeans and a Hawaiian shirt and unplugged his phone. It had only been charged up to thirty four percent, but he didn’t plan on going on the device too much once he arrived at the Hard Deck.
He grabbed his keys and wallet before he started up his beloved Bronco, typing out a quick text to you in hopes you’d actually answer him this time.
You’re ignoring me and that’s fine, but I hope I’ll be able to see you at the Hard Deck tonight? If not, maybe we can meet up later and I can explain everything to you. Please. I don’t want it to end like this.
He didn’t want it to end at all, but especially not with you thinking you weren’t all he could ever want.
To his surprise, you had actually gotten back to him pretty fast, and your response had him quickly backing out of his driveway and speeding down the road towards the Hard Deck.
Y/n/n: Seems as though luck is on your side today. Glad you’re back home and safe. I guess I’ll see you tonight.
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What’s In a Name?
Summary: Bradley really loves the way you say his name. At the grocery store. At the bar. In his bed.
Warnings: fuff, and so much smut. Minors DNI
Length: 9K
Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw X Female Reader
(This is a one-shot for my ‘Like I Can’ series. You don’t need to read it first, but you might want to. It’s pretty cute! You can check it out here!)
Bradley loved hearing you say his name.
He’d gone almost two years without hearing it. Back when he was ‘Rooster’ or ‘Bradshaw’ to you. Back when you weren’t sure how you would fit into the life he had built in San Diego when you had moved there for a promotion. Now he made it a priority to show you just how seamlessly your lives fit together, to remind you just how right you were for each other.
There were times when he still couldn’t believe that he was able to have you so entirely. You went from being just his closest childhood friend to being his everything. And now that he had you there was nothing he liked more than the sound of his name coming from your lips.
He loved hearing it every chance he could.
He’d never come so hard has he had the first time he’d heard you chanting his name over and over again as he’d fucked you in his bed. Your hair had been a riot on his pillow, your lips swollen from the attention he’d given them with his own. He’d just barely gotten you over the edge before he’d followed, so overwhelmed by your sweet voice so needy and breathy in his ear.
BradleyBradleyBradley
He had even changed his contact information in your phone from ‘Rooster’ to ‘Bradley’ one lazy Sunday afternoon when you had been dozing on his chest, adding a little sparkly heart next to it for good measure. In general, he wasn’t much of an emoji user, but he thought you might find it cute when you discovered it. He was very pleased with himself months later when he realized you’d never changed it back, pink sparkly heart and all.
He loved hearing you say his name at the grocery store.
He had gone off to find his favorite brand of protein powder, the store had recently rearranged their health food section and he could never remember where it was stocked. He didn’t want to drag you around on the scavenger hunt, especially when he knew you’d rather be doing anything else than grocery shopping.
Once he had it, he’d tried a few different aisles before finding you standing near the baking things and spices, he would have recognized your curves in those jeans anywhere.
You were chatting away with an elderly woman like you were a pair of old friends. It didn’t surprise him, since you’d always been the type that strangers had gravitated towards, your warm energy apparent to who crossed paths with you.
Walking up to you, he put the powder in the cart with the items you had accumulated while he had been wandering the same three aisles over and over again before he found what he was looking for near the bottom shelf.
“Bradley!” you greeted turning towards him beaming, your smile pure sunshine, before cheerily spinning back to the older woman, “See, I knew he’d find us eventually.”
“And he’s just as handsome as you said,” your new friend replied, giving him the once over.
“Yes, he is. Very handsome and very tall,” you told her with a teasing lilt in your tone, glancing back over your shoulder to send him a wink.
He’d happily be objectified by anyone you wanted, including elderly women wearing fuzzy purple sweaters, just as long as it meant you were bragging about him to them. That they knew he was yours, and you were his.
“How can me and my six-foot-two-inch self be of assistance to you ladies?” he asked, putting on his most winning smile. It couldn’t be said that he wouldn’t commit to a bit when the opportunity was presented.
“Can you reach Ruth a couple of those containers of Hungarian paprika, please?” you asked him while pointing to the red and green tins on the top shelf.
He was glad you had waited for him. They were so pushed back that there’s no way you would have been able to reach them on your own without climbing on the bottom shelf for a boost.
Safety first and all that, but also, he wouldn’t have wanted anyone to see the way your shirt would have ridden up your back. The dimples at the base of your spine were for his eyes only.
“Of course, I am at your service,” he pressed a quick kiss to your temple before stepping around the cart to grab the spice for the older woman.
“Oh, and then maybe one for us too, Bradley. I’ve never tried making Hungarian Goulash before. You’ve made it sound so good, that now I think I have to.”
“If you want to make it, mine is the number one reviewed recipe for the dish on AllRecipes,” Ruth boasted, there was no hiding the pride in her voice.
He hands Ruth the tins he had grabbed, and passes the other one to you to add to the collection in the shopping cart.
“But what I left out is that I always use this specific brand of paprika, and that I make mine with half pork and half beef. I save that tidbit for friends and family, I couldn’t just give all of my secrets away to the internet people.”
That had you laughing, “So sneaky, I love it! Thank you for sharing your secrets with us. Sounds like we know what we’re having for dinner tonight.”
You were already opening pulling the recipe up on your phone for later.
“I’m looking forward to it, especially since we know the tricks of the trade now.”
His eyes catch on the overflowing hand basket resting near the older woman’s worn Birkenstock mules. It looked heavy, almost like she didn’t originally plan on getting as many things as she ended up with.
“Can I carry that for you? Or if you have more shopping to do, I would be happy to go and get a cart for you,” he asks, gesturing to her overloaded basket.
“Oh no, those were the last things on my list,” Ruth replies, waving off his offer, “My youngest daughter is having her 50th birthday and the whole family is having a get together. I thought doubling my recipe would be fine, but I decided last minute to triple it.”
She bends down to reach for it, but he beats her to it. His mom raised him right.
“No, ma’am, I insist.” He’s pretty sure he catches you checking out his ass when he stands back up, “I’ll be right back, sweet girl. Stay out of trouble.”
He holds out his other arm for Ruth to take so he can escort her to the front of the store to pay.
“I don’t find trouble, it always seems to find me,” you joked.
“I believe that,” chimes Ruth.
He turns back to get a look at you, and sees you bringing your hand up to your forehead to mimic a full swoon.
He just smiles and shakes his head at you and your antics. Such a brat.
He helps Ruth at the check-out unloading the basket onto the conveyer belt, and then carries her packed grocery bags to her car getting them settled in her trunk.
Once they’ve parted ways, he heads back inside to find you.
You’re standing in front of the cooler with all the dips and fresh salsas, your head cocked to the side as you deliberate your choices.
What he also notices as he makes his way to you is that you’ve caught the attention of another man, one who should be paying more attention to his bagged lettuce instead of eyeing his girlfriend.
Sneaking up behind you, he wraps his arms around your middle lifting you up off the ground.
“Bradley! Oh my god, seriously?” He can’t help but laugh at how startled you are, he’s pretty sure if you were wearing pearls you’d be clutching them right now.
“Here I thought you were a gentleman, helping sweet Ruth with her groceries. It’s rude to sneak up on innocent and unsuspecting women,” you protest trying to twist out of his arms once he has set you back down.
“Ah, don’t be like that,” he settles his hands on your hips pulling you back to his chest, letting his fingers slide through your belt loops, before lowering his voice, “Unsuspecting, maybe. But innocent? There wasn’t anything innocent the blowjob you gave me in the Bronco outside the Hard Deck last night.”
He knows the shiver that goes through your body isn’t from the cold case you are both standing in front of.
Looking over to his left, he sees the man who was checking you out putting down the bag of spinach in his hands. And he is hit with a feeling of smug satisfaction watching as the guy quickly wheels his empty cart out of the section completely.
“No getting handsy by the hummus, Bradley,” you tut, still set on giving him the cold shoulder, but the way you lean back against him gives you away, “Should we get that lemon beet kind again?”
“Whatever you want, kid,” he murmured against your neck. “Plus, the word on the street is that you think I’m handsome, so that’s got to count for something.”
When you pull away from him this time, he lets you go. Getting a glimpse of the skin above the top of your jeans as you reach up to grab the square container of hummus.
You set it in the cart looking back at him as you toss your hair over your shoulder, before primly stating, “Oh, and Bradley, if you’re going to quote me I do believe I said you were very handsome.”
And with that final word, you push off with the cart meandering to towards the fruit section, the sensual sway of your hips he knows is just for him.
He especially loved the way your voice sounded when you’d just woken up, when his name was one of the first words out of your mouth to start a new day.
There was nothing Bradley liked better than the nights you spent together in the same bed. It didn’t matter if it was his place or yours, just as long as he was able to wake up to find you warm and tucked away under his arm.
“G’morning Bradley,” you’d whisper, voice soft and sleepy, a little raspy from disuse, as you turned to nestle closer burrowing your face in his neck. He knew you liked a gentle wake up, and he was more than happy to trail his fingers along your back until you woke up a bit more.
He was always up before you, his internal alarm clock permanently altered from his time in the Navy. For as much as you claimed to be a morning person, you were always the one snoozing yours in favor for spending a few more minutes in bed. It wasn’t something he’d ever expected to learn about you, and he liked being the one who got to share those intimately domestic moments with you.
The only surefire way to get you out of bed and moving on those mornings was the suggestion of hot coffee-- that or the promise of his mouth.
He loved the way you said his name when you were surprised.
When he’d gone to that furniture store you liked, his only plans were to find a new larger dresser for his bedroom. He had claimed he needed more space for his stuff, but really, he wanted there to be more room for you to keep your things at his place.
The home stylist at the store not only helped him pick out a new dresser he thought you’d approve of, but also convinced him to also purchase the matching king-sized canopy bed frame and set of nightstands.
He was told the mood was “cozy mid-century chic”, whatever that meant.
Bradley knows he runs hot, you’ve told him enough times that he’s like a furnace. So when the stylist showed him the cloudlike and breathable comforter along with the 800-thread count white cotton sheets, he had them add that to his collection too.
You still wouldn’t move in with him, but he was working on it. He knew he’d reel you in soon enough. And if it took a payment plan, so be it.
Although, he could only blame himself for the new lamps and giant rug he also purchased. He’d gotten a little swept up in the salesperson’s enthusiasm.
Hopefully that guy got commission, he deserved every dollar.
It had hurt a bit when he swiped his credit card, but it was worth it to hear the way you said his name when you saw it all for the first time after it had been delivered and assembled.
“Oh my god, Bradley!” you laughed, “I thought you said you were just getting a new dresser. Did you buy the whole store?”
“What can I say? The salesperson was very good at his job, sweet girl,” he was trying to not let his leg bounce as he waited for you to say more. A little nervous now that he’d gone overboard and missed the mark, “Do you like it?”
“It’s absolutely perfect, Bradley,” you gushed as you slowly made your way around the room taking it all in. “It’s warm, it’s classic, it’s cozy. It feels like you. You’re going to have a hard time getting me to leave now, I love it in here.”
That was all he wanted.
He felt all the tension leave his body, grinning as he watched you sit down on the bed running your hand over the soft deep green duvet. It had become his favorite color the second he’d seen you in that green dress the night at the seaside restaurant when he’d told you how he felt about you.
“So, do you want to help me break it in?” he asked, pushing off from where he had been leaning against the doorframe and sauntered towards you.
The way you slowly reclined back on the bed, your lips turned up in a mischievous smile was an answer in itself.
He loved the sound of you saying his name at the Hard Deck.
Your voice was so familiar to him that he could pick it out anywhere. He was so attuned to the way you said his name that he could be in a conversation with someone in the noisy bar, but his ears would perk up if you said his name in a passing comment.
It was like he was hearing his friends talk with one ear, while the other was always listening for you.
He could be with Mav catching up and chatting about the new plane he was working on, until:
“Yeah, I could use another one, let me see if Bradley needs one really quick and then I’ll go up with you.”
And then he would find himself standing next to you at the bar.
He could be playing around of nine-ball with Hangman, until:
“No, you’re kidding me! There’s no way you caught Coyote doing that, has Bradley heard this one before? Oh my god, you have to tell him.”
And then he would find himself abandoning his cue on the pool table.
“What the fuck, Bradshaw? You can’t just quit because I’m kicking your ass,” Jake would shout at him as he made his way towards you.
After all, you’d said his name and now he was curious.
He could be at the jukebox trying to find something better to put on than whatever terrible song Fanboy had picked, until:
“Oh! Bradley knows how to play that one, let’s see if we can bribe him to go perform it. I doubt we’ll have to try very hard, he’s such a little show off.”
And then he would find himself seated at the piano.
To everyone else he was ‘Rooster’, ‘Bradshaw’, ‘Lieutenant’, and soon to be ‘Lieutenant Commander’.
To you he was Bradley.
Seeing Bradley seated at the piano was a normal sight for you.
Since being permanently stationed in San Diego, he’d had all of the things from his storage locker shipped over, including his Dad’s old upright. He liked to play in the evening to decompress after his day and you liked to watch.
There was something about the way his large fingers moved over the keys so gracefully that was always so mesmerizing to you.
You still remembered how embarrassed he would get all those times when your moms would beg him to put on an impromptu piano recital. Usually fueled by a couple too many glasses of Cabernet Sauvignon, you realized later on.
Your mom and Carole had definitely been the “Wine Moms” at the baseball and tennis games they’d sat through in support of you and Bradley.
He would get a little sulky in the way that all self-conscious teens got, but he could never hold out for very long before pulling out the wooden piano bench. Bradley wasn’t one to purposefully disappoint his mom, their relationship special in the way that only a single parent and an only child could understand.
Once he realized it was a good way to get noticed by the girls in high school, he’d been quick to change his tune. And now it was clear he reveled the attention it got him when he sat down and started tapping out a carefree riff before launching into a song, all preening posturing and smug smiles.
You were usually right next to Bradley when he put on a show, an arm wrapped around his shoulder, always one to want a front row seat to see him in action.
Tonight the bar was a bit more packed than usual. It took a little longer to move around, and a little longer for Penny to make your drink since you had opted for something slightly more complicated than a beer.
Slowly, but surely, you wove your way through the crowd. Careful to avoid any stray elbows to avoid jostling your full drink as you made your way back to your friends where they were gathered around the ancient upright. You were nearly there when a burly man stepped around you, giving you a clear view of Bradley playing.
And you were stopped short by the picture in front of you.
The performance he was currently putting on at the Hard Deck was different than anything he did at his own home. His leg bouncing in tempo as he shimmied perched on the piano bench, like it’s a struggle for him to be contained to one spot.
He was captivating in the way that he commanded the room.
Maybe it was the way the way the muscles of his forearms were flexing as his fingers were precisely flying over the discolored keys.
Maybe it was the way the light sheen of sweat was collecting in the hollow of his collarbone.
Or maybe it was the way the veins were standing out against his neck, the way the thick tendon that ran along his throat had you transfixed as he threw his head back to sing at the top of his lungs.
His sunglasses were sliding down his nose as his head bobbed between glancing down at his hands and scanning the room. He smiled when his eyes found yours over the top of his aviators. Your hand tightened around the glass in your hand, the condensation dripping down your wrist as you stood there and watched.
You weren’t sure if it was your imagination or the tequila you’d been sipping on all night, but it seemed like he was working the keys of the piano a little harder, a little faster as he held your gaze.
And then his tongue was slipping out. Just a bit, and just for you.
Thankfully no one could hear the way your breath hitched in your throat over the sound of everyone in the bar singing along. You’d be embarrassed if you weren’t so turned on.
The intensity of Bradley’s heated gaze, the way his body was moving, the way you wanted to crawl in his lap and lick the taut line of his neck and taste the salt of his skin right there in front of everyone.
You probably looked as desperate as you were feeling, because his easygoing smile turned more knowing every second your eyes stayed locked.
“I’ll be right back,” you said to no one in particular as you abandoned your spicy margarita on the nearest surface to make your escape.
You felt like you were about to vibrate out of your skin.
It was easier to slipping away to the bathroom than had been trying to reach Bradley in front of the stage, needing a moment to yourself out of his heady orbit.
Locking the door behind you, you lean against the worn wood that was littered with stickers that had been collected and brought back from around the world. You try breathing in and out a few times, the way you’ve learned to do at your expensive yoga classes, in an attempt to slow down the rapid pounding in your chest. Actively trying to not think about the way he looked at you.
There was no question in your mind that you suffered from an incurable Bradley kink. Now that you could let yourself revel in all sorts of unfriendly thoughts about him, everything he did was a turn on for you.
You had a sneaking suspicion that he might have one too. His eyes always a got a bit more heated, and his hands would grip you a little tighter when you said it.
You knew that if you were to slip your fingers past the waistband of the dainty lace underwear you had just bought that you would find yourself wet.
And for a moment, you’re tempted to do just that. To let your fingers skim up your thigh, along the scalloped edge of the panties you’d bought specifically with Bradley in mind, to think of him as you slide your fingers inside of yourself.
You’re feeling so high-strung that you know it wouldn’t take long to come. It wouldn’t be the first time you would have used the bathroom at the Hard Deck to get off.
Your hand is halfway under your sundress, when you hear the chanting:
Roo-ster! Roo-ster! Roo-ster!
In your mind’s eye, you can picture him standing behind the piano doing his version of a touchdown dance.
You’ve teased him about it before, calling him a “slutty little songbird”, which he didn’t deny. He thrives off the attention, and you can’t say you mind watching him do that sexy little shimmy he is so fond of.
You also don’t mind helping him find other ways to work off the post-performance high.
Knowing that he will probably be looking for you now that he’s done, you smooth down the skirt of your dress with shaky hands and make your way to the sink.
Standing in front of the dingy mirror, you can see just how much a wreck your appearance actually is. Your cheeks look warm, your lips are slightly swollen from Penny’s special spicy margarita mix, and your eyes have that certain wild gleam in them that only Bradley brings out in you.
You turn the cold tap on, and stick your wrists under the running water. Hoping the cool water on your pulse points will help ease the heat that is spreading under your skin.
While the chanting has stopped now, you can still hear the lively sounds of the packed bar. Figuring it’s alright to leave the safe confines of the tiny bathroom, you turn off the water and dry your hands, determined to not let anyone see just how riled up you were.
You’re barely five steps outside of the bathroom, when a strong arm wraps around your waist.
“Hey, kid.”
And just like that your heart is racing out of control again. His woodsy smell paired with the faint hit of sweat has your brain going fuzzy.
“You doin’ ok?” he rasps against the shell of your ear. He has you pulled against his warm, broad chest and you can feel the echoes of his question reverberate throughout your whole body.
You pull out of his grasp to turn and face him, taking a small step backwards towards the wall.
“Uh-huh, yeah. Everything is fine,” you ramble, nodding your head as you try to avoid looking in his honey brown eyes.
“You sure about that?” he asks taking a step towards you, which has you retreating another one back. “Thought I should check on you since you disappeared there for a bit.”
“Just you know,” you trail off briefly glancing at him and gesturing pathetically towards the bathroom like that explains your clearly unusual behavior.
“Mm-hmm, sure,” he allows, his head tilting to the side as he observes you.
You know the exact moment when he realizes what’s going on by the way his cheek twitches as he tries to control the wolfish smile he is fighting back. And you’re suddenly feeling very much like his prey when he presses forward again. This time when you step back you feel the wall against your back as he crowds into your space.
“We should probably go back,” you stutter out when he cages you in with one hand above your head.
“Maybe,” he muses, tracing his thumb along your lower lip, “You sure you don’t want to tell me what’s got you so ruffled?”
The way he is looking at you, the way he feels against you, it’s all too much.
“Bradley.”
You don’t know what you were trying to sound like when you said his name, but there’s no missing the neediness in your voice.
“Yeah, I thought so,” he murmurs, his voice rough and low. He takes your hand in his, guiding you to his zipper, letting you feel him through his jeans. “You got me all worked up too, sweet girl.”
The sound you make is lands somewhere between a wheeze and a whimper.
“C’mon, let’s get out of here.”
He doesn’t wait for a response before he has you leading the way up to the bar, using your body to hide his hard on as he pays. Not even bothering to wave goodbye to your group of friends as he hustles you to the Bronco.
He definitely broke the speed limit and a couple minor traffic laws on the drive back trying to get you home to his place.
You had looked so flushed when he had been pounding away at the keys of the upright at the Hard Deck, and you had dashed away abandoning your freshly made drink. He might have sped up the tempo to wrap it up faster so that he could check on you, worried for a moment that you might have caught a bug or food poisoning or something.
That was until he caught you outside of the bathroom, and saw just how flustered you’d been and he knew.
It took everything in him not to push you back into the tiny bathroom and have his way with you right then and there. He was hit with an image bending you over the sink, and showing you just how good you looked coming around his cock.
However, a hot and dirty quickie at the Hard Deck wouldn’t have been enough for him.
He knew exactly how he wanted you: flustered, flushed, and thoroughly fucked.
So yeah, he floored the gas pedal needing to feel your body under his as soon as possible. And it didn’t hurt that it probably cleared out some of the engine build up in the Bronco along the way either.
He pressed you against the door the second you’d gotten inside, letting you rock your hips against his thigh as he sucked along the curve of your collarbone. Your hands coming up to tug at the curls at the top of his head.
“U-upstairs,” you gasp when he grazes his teeth along the swell of your breast.
You didn’t need to tell him twice.
He lifts you up, and your legs wrap around him immediately. It had taken all of his will power not to slip his hands up your frilly dress at the Hard Deck. He loved any chance to he got to get his hands on your ass.
He almost misses the first step going up the stairs when you drag your hot mouth along his neck.
“Wait, wait,” you pant in his ear, “Put me down.”
“It’s fine, I got you,” he promises as he tightens his grip on you.
You pull away and shake your head at him, “I don’t want either of us to end up in the Emergency Room for a sex related accident. Could you imagine? Jake would never let us live it down, and Nat would be worse.”
“It’d be worth it though,” he winks at you.
“You say that now, until you’re stuck in a neck brace unable to fly or have sex,” you admonish jokingly, stroking the side of his throat with the scars he earned from that night at Jason Cameron’s homecoming party.
“Yeah, but you could still ride me. The way I see it, it’s a win-win either way,” he chuckles at the exasperated way you roll your eyes.
“You’re handsome, but I don’t think even you could pull off the color of those hospital gowns,” you quip with a quick peck to his lips, “Now, hands off the goods.”
Giving your ass one more squeeze, he lets you slide down his body. He may not have his hands on you anymore, but it doesn’t stop him from admiring your figure as you bound up the stairs in front of him.
He stops short at the threshold of his bedroom at the sight of you pulling your dress over your head. Of all your soft skin on display for him.
There were times he still couldn’t believe he got to have you like this.
How did he think it could have ever just been a friendship with you?
He liked how comfortable you were in this space with him, liked how perfectly your things fit in with his.
He liked knowing that one of the pillows on the bed smelled like you.
He liked knowing that if he went in the bathroom he would find your expensive shampoo and conditioner in there next to his.
He liked knowing that if he opened the drawer on one of the nightstands that he would find your lip balm, your lavender lotion, a vibrator from your place that had found a home here, and a notebook and pen in case you needed to remember to do something because you didn’t like having your phone in bed.
What he currently liked most about his bedroom was the way your dress was decorating the floor, and the way you were kneeling on his bed like a vision.
You were wearing a matching pale pink lace set he’d never seen before. Your skin was peeking through the floral embroidery of the sheer mesh in an all too enticing way.
You were his sweet girl.
“Come here,” you beckon, inching closer to the edge of the wooden canopy bed.
He’s not one to deny you, he’d willingly go wherever you wanted. He saunters in towards you slowly, putting on a bit of a show for you as he comes to stand before you.
“I like this, it’s pretty,” he hums as he runs his knuckles slowly over the edge of the embroidered cups, enjoying the way you lean further into him.
Cupping your jaw, he pulls you forward for a lingering kiss. Being this close to you, the smell of your musky floral perfume is intensifying thumping of his pulse.
Your hands slide under his Hawaiian print shirt, helping to ease it off his body and then tossing it somewhere near your dress. You ruck the tank he has underneath up his chest and he reaches down to pull it over his head as your hands run over the ridges of his abs.
His body has been humming for yours since the bar. The hurried encounter at the door barely managed to take any of the edge off, and he was still just as starved for you as he had been when he saw you holding that drink looking at him like he was something to be devoured.
His left hand moves from where it’s been settled on the flare of your hip and up your back to the clasp of your pretty bra.
He’s been letting you take the lead, but you’re not nearly naked enough for him.
“Hands to yourself,” you mutter as you work to get his belt undone, “I’m trying to get you naked you here.”
Part of him wants to take his time with you, to take you apart slowly and see what new sounds he can uncover. The other part of him wants to have you holding onto that rich espresso colored headboard while he shows you just how much he appreciates you wearing this little set just for him.
“You like my hands,” he murmurs against your neck. He is quick to unhook the clasp of your bra with one hand, easing it down your arms and flinging it behind him.
Yet another offering to his bedroom floor.
And then he is trailing his fingers down your soft stomach, dipping them under the band of your matching panties.
He groans when he discovers you’re already wet for him. He finds your clit, and teases you there making gentle figure-eights with his finger, “Got yourself so worked up you couldn’t even stick around for the end of the damn song, huh?”
You’re quick to abandon your crusade against his favorite pair of jeans, leaving him unbuckled and half unzipped, as you circle your arms around his neck to pull him closer to you.
“God, your fingers feel so much better than mine,” you sigh against his mouth as he licks his lips before bringing them back to yours.
Your full lips soften under his demanding ones, the sensual slide of your lips against his has him desperate for more.
He slips his tongue in your mouth taking advantage of your gasp as his circles against you turn from teasing to purposeful. The kiss turning messy with need. With want.
“I know another part of my body that you like just as much,” he murmurs, as he palms your ass.
Your hand starts moving down his chest, down his stomach.
“Nuh-uh,” he tsks, catching your tricky hand before it has a chance to reach his cock, bringing it back up to rest on his shoulder.
“I want to touch you,” you whisper against the spot below his ear that you know drives him wild.
“I’m getting you off right now,” he says firmly as he speeds up his motions against your clit.
It doesn’t take long before he has you panting against his mouth, your hips rocking against his fingers.
“That’s it,” he coaxes, “Let me give you what you want.”
He knows from the sweet whimpers you’re making that you’re close, he breaks away from your kiss to hold your half-lidded gaze as you come for him.
He will never get tired of watching you fall apart.
He will never get tired of seeing you satisfied and spread across his bed.
Giving you a moment to catch your breath, he shucks off his jeans and his briefs, releasing a small groan as his cock springs free. He’s been hard for you since he cornered you by the bathroom at the bar. Sending you a lazy-half smile at the way your eyes take him in standing there above you as he slowly pumps himself.
He knows he looks good, it’s literally his job to keep his body in peak condition.
But you make him feel good.
No one knows him better than you, makes him laugh harder than you, makes him feel as important as you do. Your appreciative gaze of his body is just another bonus to the many ways you make him feel good about himself.
He climbs on the bed, settling between the cradle of your open thighs.
“You gonna tell me what got you so keyed up, sweet girl?” he asks in-between scattering kisses across your cheeks.
“That’s classified,” you retort breathlessly as you wrap your legs around him.
“Is it now?” he grinned, kissing along the delicate line of your jaw. He’ll let you keep your secret for now, he had other more pressing questions he wanted answers to, “Did you touch yourself when you ran off to the bathroom?”
“No,” you whine, as he pulls your nipple into his mouth, laving it with his tongue.
“Did you think about it? Think about me?”
He wanted to know. He needed to know that he drove you just as crazy as you did him.
“Yes,” you gasped out in confession when he moves to your other breast, giving it the same attention, “I’m always thinking about you.”
Good.
“Already know how you feel about my fingers,” he rasps as he kisses down your stomach, making sure to place one on the little tattoo near your hipbone. “Should I let you have my mouth too, sweet girl?”
“Yes,” you breathe working your hands into the curls at the top of his head, “Please.”
“Yeah, I think so too,” he agrees mouthing at the last little bit of lace still on your body.
He pulls off your pretty pink panties and throws them somewhere behind him, probably landing on that overpriced dresser he bought for you.
He loved that he was the one who got to see you like this. Your hair was a mess from his hands, you pupils were blown wide, and your flushed chest rising and falling with rapid shallow breaths.
“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he says reverently before licking a firm stripe parting you open.
It’s not long before his mouth is meticulously working between your thighs, his tongue gliding over your clit, one of your legs thrown over his shoulder.
He’s sliding his finger into you and then another, making room in your body, determined to pull a second orgasm from you.
You’re so wet for him, so soft for him, so sweet for him.
He knows what you like. He’s studied your body just as thoroughly he did the aircraft manuals he was given, if not more so.
“More,” you moan, your hips rolling from the stimulation, “I need more.”
Pulling away from you with one more broad lick of his tongue, he leans his head against the thigh that’s thrown over his shoulder, watching your face as he pushes another finger into you. The way you’re pressing your heel into the muscles of his back has him fighting the urge to grind himself into the bed.
“You look so good like this,” he praises, taking in the way you writhe against the three fingers he has buried deep in you, as he squeezes you hip with his other hand.
He’s seen a lot of unforgettable sights from the cockpit of his plane, but nothing will ever compete with the way you look as you chase your release. Your eyes fighting to say open as you watch him watching you.
“Oh my god,” you exhale when he hits that spot inside of you, your leg starting to tremble with the need, “Please, I’m so close.”
Using his fingers and mouth in tandem, he works you with same pressure, the same pace. He feels you clenching around his fingers a few moments later, your back arching in pleasure as you fly apart for him.
Teasing his lips and mustache along the sensitive skin at the crease of your thigh, as you come down from your high, before kissing his way back up your body. Your greedy hands reaching out for him, pulling him to your mouth. He feeds you his tongue, letting you taste yourself on him.
The way you’re whimpering beneath him is making him feel out of control.
“I want you inside me.”
Wrapping his large hand around his cock, he drags it through your folds few times before he finally lines himself up at your center.
And then he’s finally pushing into you, savoring the way you cling to him as he gives you a moment to adjust to his size.
“Rooster,” you say with a sigh against his lips.
He starts to move when your hips start to shift seeking more friction. And then he’s rocking into you with the smooth, deep strokes that never fail to make your toes curl. Once, twice, three times.
“What’d you say?” he asks, as he slows the pace down.
Your hands are in his hair, and you tug on the strands when he pulls away to look at you. Your lips are swollen, but he knows that look in your eye. He can already can guess what you’re going to respond with before your lips have even formed the word.
“R-ooster.”
The word comes out a stutter, as he roughly thrusts into you again.
He doesn’t know why he’s bothered asking, he should have known that you were going to make him work for the one thing he wants to hear.
“Say my name.”
He was so gone for you, he wants you riled up and feeling the same way as him. He wants his neighbors to hear you saying his name. Wants them to know that he’s the one making you feel so good.
“Lieutenant,” you taunt, not bother trying to hide the self-satisfied on your face.
If he wasn’t going to get what he wanted then neither were you.
He pulls out of you completely, flipping you over on the forest green duvet. His hand coming down on your ass, a quick sharp slap.
The sting of it has you gasping into your forearms pillowed underneath your head, and your cunt fluttering around nothing.
Leaning forward, he kisses down the length of your spine admiring the way the goosebumps pebble on your skin now.
“Say my name,” he coaxes again.
He tugs your hips up and licks deeply into you once before pulling away. Watching smugly on his knees at the way your hips tilt up after him, your legs spreading further apart as you offer more of yourself to him.
“Bradshaw,” you counter.
Closer, but still not what he wants to hear.
His open hand connects on the other side of your perfect ass, earning him a sweet moan from you.
Grasping his cock to slide it through your wetness, he stops just short of where he knows you want to feel it the most.
He wants you dazed. He wants you desperate for him.
You’ve always been the type to take a mile when you’re given an inch. And he intends to only let you have exactly eight inches tonight.
“You want this cock?” he rasps.
He knows he’s got you where he wants you when you don’t reply with another bratty remark, only desperately nodding ‘yes’ into the mattress.
“Look at me,” he demands.
You’re slow to lift your head up to look back at him, your eyes are a little glazed over as you take him in. You look as wrecked as he feels. He can only imagine what he looks like through your eyes. He can feel the sweat collecting at his temples, can feel the flush that’s working its way down his neck to his chest.
“You know what I wanna hear, kid.”
That makes you whine.
“Oh, you wanna be my sweet girl now, huh?” he asks, squeezing your hips.
He wants to taste that lower lip, the one that’s pouting prettily at him as you nod for him again. Even now as you writhe against him you’re still trying to get your own way, still trying to get him to break first.
“Well, you know what to do,” he feels like barely hanging on now, “Say. My. Name.”
He punctuates each word with the rock of his hips, his cock just grazing your clit. Enough to keep you on edge, but not enough to give you the stimulation that you want.
“Bradley!” you cry out.
He’s inside of you before you’ve even gotten the second syllable out.
Groaning your name, he throws his head back at the sensation of finally being surrounded by you again.
“Good girl. That wasn’t so hard, was it?” he tries to ask teasingly, but it comes out more a rumble than anything else. “My sweet girl.”
Your pussy squeezes him harder at the praise as you roll your hips up more to better accept his body in yours. He loved the view he had, loved seeing how wet you were for him, loved seeing just how well he filled you, loved seeing you stretched around him.
He leaned forward a bit, brushing back your hair off your face to see you better. The change in angle making you gasp as you fisted the material beneath you.
“Say it again,” he prompts, smoothing a hand down your back, “I wanna hear you say it again.”
His name.
The only thing he wanted running through your mind.
His name.
The only thing he wants coming from your mouth, other than the sweet whimpers and moans he is pulling from you.
“Bradley,” you indulge, his name sounding something between a plead and a purr.
Without disrupting the pace he’s set, he nudges your knees further apart. Wrapping an arm around your middle to pull you up against his chest, needing to be closer to you.
“Go on, let them hear who is making you feel this good,” he grunts roughly in your ear.
“Brad-ley,” the staccato of his name punctuated by his steady thrusts against you. Your hand digging into his hip.
Interlocking his fingers with yours, he lifts your arm to hook it around the back of his neck, holding you to him there. Turning your head, you greedily mouth at the column of his throat, frenzied and wet.
You were it for him, there was no question about it. And he would happily prove to you in all the ways he could think of that he was it for you too. There’s nothing he wants more than to make you feel good. To please you. To give you the best you’ve ever had.
His other hand slides up from where he had been squeezing your waist to get his hand on your breast. He loves how perfectly you fit in his hand.
He meets you for a kiss, sloppy and perfect, messy and deep.
He can’t control the sounds of satisfaction escaping him as you move together, feeding off of your sighs and moans. Your hands are grabbing onto whatever part of him is in reach: his hair, his thigh, his arm.
Enjoying the drag of his cock as he moves in you, he lets himself get lost in the sensation of being connected with you like this. The room filled with the sounds of labored breathing, of your bodies coming together, of you saying his name over and over again.
You’re starting to tremble in his arms, he’s pretty sure your legs would have given out by now if it were for the way he was holding you against him. Your nails biting into the back of his neck, as he slowly drags a hand down your body to where you’re connected.
“I love this,” you murmur into the base of this throat.
He doesn’t know if you realized you said it out loud, doesn’t know if you meant to say it out loud, but he loves hearing it all the same.
“God, you feel so good,” he can feel the sensation building at the base of his spine, “You’re perfect. So fucking perfect.”
The way his circles his fingers against your clit has you gasping into his waiting mouth.
“Bradley, please.”
He’d give you anything. He’d give you everything.
“C’mon then,” he insisted hoarsely, pressing his forehead against the side of your temple, “Say it for me one more time, sweet girl.”
He speeds up his fingers, set on ending you. Working your body with the precision that he handles his sixty-five million dollar aircraft. Determined to give you what you’re so sweetly asking for.
And it’s his name you gasp as you come undone.
Your is head thrown back against his shoulder as you spasm around his cock, your hips rolling as you are lost to the pleasure of your orgasm. He kisses your neck and lightens the pressure of his fingers on your clit, wanting to extend it out for you as much as possible, enjoying the tiny pulsing aftershocks he is drawing from you.
It’s only when he feels you go boneless that he starts to lose his own composure. His breathing going completely ragged and hips snapping erratically against you as he chases his own climax.
A few more powerful strokes later he follows you coming hard with a groan, burying his face in your neck as he spills in you.
Somehow, he manages to get you both sprawled out horizontal on the bed without him completely crushing you.
“Holy shit,” he curses flinging an arm over his eyes, his other reaching out to touch whatever part of you he can find. There’s nothing but the sound of the blood rushing in his ears as he tries to catch his breath.
Time gets away from him as he runs his hand up and down your back. It could have been a few minutes or an hour when he feels the bed move, and you slipping out of his grasp as you get up to use the bathroom.
“No, stay,” he attempts to pull you back to him, feeling the need to have you close again as he tries to settle back into his body. You’re seemingly recovering much quicker than he is at the moment.
“I won’t even be gone two minutes, you can time me.” He can hear the soft affection in your voice.
“Don’t think I won’t,” he grouses halfheartedly lifting up the arm with his watch on. He manages to raise his head up in time to get a glimpse of your naked figure as you close the door behind you.
True to your word, you are back one minute and forty-seven seconds later. He opens his arms to you as you climb back on his bed and drape yourself half over him.
Much better.
He feels you shift yourself up a few moments later to press a kiss to the scar on his shoulder.
“I just want to try something,” you murmur before making your way along the bend of his collarbone.
Up the side of his neck.
He feels his pulse start to kick up again as you work your way up the line of his jaw. He tilts his head away to give you more access to his skin there, basking in the feel of your lips on his body.
“Bradley,” you whisper lightly against the shell of his ear.
The guttural groan that rips through him surprises him. He feels his cock twitch against his thigh, a visceral reaction to you.
And then you’re giggling.
“I knew it,” you get out between fits of laughter, “You’ve got a name kink.”
Your face pure joy at your discovery. He’ll happily let you tease him for the rest of his life as long as you keep looking at him like that.
“Nah, I got a you kink,” he says as he hauls you on top of him.
“I’m already planning on letting you have your way with me again tonight, Bradley,” you proudly declare, propping yourself up on his chest, smiling down at him. “You don’t have to try so hard, I’m a sure thing.”
If he wasn’t already gone for you, the cheeky wink you sent him would have sealed the deal.
He feels himself already starting to get hard again, one of the perks of being a part of the 1%.
“Sweet girl, you’re gonna be the end of me,” he chuckles, running his hands up your back, “And I remember someone once telling me that they give as good as they get, so I won’t be dialing it in anytime soon.”
And then he is pulling you down for a kiss.
Later that night when you’re riding him so good, you get him chanting your name.
Over, and over, and over again.
A couple hours later, he watches you slip away into slumber, satisfied and spent beneath the fluffy comforter on the bed.
His bed. Your bed. Their bed.
It was just as much yours as it was his, regardless of whether you were officially living together yet or not. He bought it for you, after all.
Even on the occasional nights you spent apart, you were still everywhere.
He liked the plants you had picked to fill out the empty spaces in the room. He liked that the right side of the bed was your side of the bed. That those were your books on the nightstand, the bookmarks peeking out waiting for you to pick up where you left off.
There was a trinket tray for your jewelry on top of the dresser right next to the to the leather watch display box that you had gotten him for his birthday. And the drawers of that well-made, but overpriced wooden dresser were filling up with more and more of your things, just like he had hoped for when he got it.
He smiled to himself as he gently stroked your hair. The last time he was at your place, he had accidentally seen the letter from your apartment’s leasing office confirming your decision to not renew your rental agreement and your move out date. He hadn’t told you he knew, he’d rather hear it from you anyways.
You would always be worth the wait.
The packages that were delivered to the door?
His, for now, until you moved in a couple months from now.
The name signed on the lease for the condo?
His, for now, until you were ready to ink yours down on a deed for a new home with him.
The little velvet box tucked away in the back corner of his nightstand?
His, for now, but always meant to be yours.
You can thank @mak-32 and her photo set of Rooster at the piano for this fic!
Also, many many thanks to @gretagerwigsmuse for being my go-to gal! I wouldn’t have been brave enough to post the smut if she hadn’t given me the all-caps go ahead!
Here’s Bradley’s bedroom, if you’re curious!
You can check my other fics out here!
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#bradley bradshaw imagine#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw x you#bradley bradshaw fanfiction#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw x female reader#bradley rooster bradshaw x you#top gun fanfiction#top gun maverick fanfiction#rooster x reader#rooster x female reader#bradley bradshaw fic
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» 𝐢'𝐥𝐥 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮
⁘ amongst salt water skin and silken sheets lies insecurities and innocence, but also tenderness and a willingness to learn...
› pairing; bradley bradshaw x f!reader
prompt; ❝ well, honestly i’ve never really had sex before and was kinda hoping you would teach me. ❞ and ❝ don’t be nervous, i’ll guide you through it. ❞
word count; ~ 6.1K
× chapter warnings; loss of virginity, virginity as a normative concept, p in v sex, no use of y/n, smut, porn without plot, creampie, hair tugging, praise kink, innocence kink, corruption(?) if you squint maybe, rooster is a consent king
request; by @diorrfairy. I'm so sorry this took so long my love 🫶
disclaimer; I was rather torn with how I wanted this fic to go. on one hand I wanted it to be how I wished my first time was, yet I did not want to accidentally make it seem as if this is how a 'first time' is supposed to be, if that makes sense. I therefore tried to make it realistic in the way I experienced sex for the first time, but still making it softer, and sweeter, and the way I figure I'd want a first time with someone you love to be. for me sex hurt the first like five times but also my first bf was 6'5 and he was fucking huge so like yeehaw.
tagging people who might like; @roleycoleyland @roosterforme @lewmagoo @theharddeck @seresinsweetie @sebsxphia @rhettabbotts
Being with Bradley was easy. It was sunny, comfortable, and safe. The soft gaze of the aviator could turn your knees weak in a heartbeat. The way he touched you, the way he listened and understood you - and most of all, the way he never pushed you harder than needed to explore new things if you didn’t want to.
Previously, in all relationships you’d had - whether platonic or romantic, you found that people pushed you. Pushed you to participate in things you maybe weren’t entirely ready for, or didn’t wholly feel comfortable with. Like the first time you got drunk, even though you’d told your friends you’d rather just try one beer and then drink soda.
Bradley, however, understood the need for you to feel comfortable and safe. He understood that you needed time to contemplate, to reflect, and to sort of turn and twist an event in your mind a few times before throwing yourself headfirst into it.
So, when the two of you started getting serious, and you, with heat rising to your face, confessed that you ‘hadn’t done much’ in the sexual department, his amber gaze had softened. He’d smiled softly, cradled your cheek in one of his large palms, and placed a tender kiss upon your lips as he promised to take everything in the pace you deemed appropriate.
He wasn’t in a hurry, he’d said before enveloping you in his arms, letting you nuzzle your face into his chest and his safe embrace. Inhaling his scent and feeling his strong arms and hands holding you so delicately, you truly felt safe in his promise not to rush anything.
Bradley had not quite understood your timidness when telling him about not having too much experience. He figured maybe you’d fooled around a little in college with some boys or girls, but that you hadn’t had too many mind blowing sexual encounters. As beautiful and kind as you were, Rooster had a hard time imagining anything else. However, his mother had raised him to always respect a ladies wishes - however small or big that wish was, and he was nothing if not a caring soul himself. He always wanted you to feel safe with him, wanted you to feel you could confide in him, and lay worries and hardships for him to carry with you.
Which was why he was perfectly content to spend lazy afternoons making out with you straddled on his lap, only sneaking in a squeeze of your ass sporadically - keeping his hands placed gently on your waist, only ever letting them grace slowly upwards to your ribcage and to the wire of your bra. The small little noises you made drove him wild, but he wouldn’t be the person to push you. No, Bradley was more than willing to wait until you asked him to touch you.
However, as compassionate and patient a man as Bradley was - he was also a little insecure. He had never felt the way he did with you, and he was glad that you both seemed to be on the same page of slowly cherishing each other’s comfort. Felt secure in that this was something you both felt was something special.
Your relationship was not something that needed to be rushed, because both of you felt that this might be it. But one human can only take so many rejections before they start to wonder if it was something that they did wrong. Had he been pushy? Had he made you feel so uncomfortable that even after months of dating you didn’t want him? Or was it simply the fact that you didn’t find him attractive or arousing enough?
These thoughts swirled and tainted the most noble of intentions within Bradley. He so badly wanted you to feel the way he did about you, that it somewhat clouded his perception. Every sweet, bashful smile as you pulled away from him turned into a confirmation that there was something he was doing wrong.
Perhaps you were not a person who wanted what he wanted. He would be okay with that if that were the case, but as he pondered these possibilities in bed after a particularly nice day at the beach with you, he realized that the best way to go about it was to talk about it.
He smiled as he reminisced on your walk, feet bare in the sand. His heart did double-time as he remembered the way your eyes sparkled, and the way you’d pulled on his hand to draw him into the water with you. Covered in sand and salt water, the two of you had spent the majority of the day in each other's arms (when you were not indulged in very serious bouts of splashing wars) before retreating to Bradley’s home.
Which was how Bradley found himself perched on his bed after a nice shower to wash away the sand and salt, feeling content with the conclusion he had come to. The water was still running, as you were washing away the day as well, further fuelling Bradley’s thoughts. He was torn from them when you emerged, clad in a large, white, oversized silken button-up. It was rather old, and some of the buttons were missing. Your skin looked soft as it gleamed in the glow of the evening light. Looking at you, Bradley couldn’t help the soft smile that stretched across his lips as he raised his arms to signal he wanted you near.
Mimicking his smile, you happily straddled his lap, making yourself comfortable before holding up a small container that Rooster hadn’t noticed before.
“What’s that?” his voice was low, as if the energy of the room shouldn’t be disturbed by loud talking. Fingertips dipped into white cream, before gently ghosting across the skin of his face.
“It’s to soothe the skin, baby,” you explained softly, massaging the cool cream onto Bradley’s warm face. He hummed in reply, letting his hands grasp your hips, running his thumb up and down over the soft silken material. His eyes fluttered shut as you carefully made sure that every surface of his skin was carefully covered, even going down to cover his throat and neck.
“All done.” was whispered against his lips, punctured by the soft feel of your plush lips upon his. Your chest had fallen closer to his bare upper body, and the small container now found its resting place on his nightstand as your hands splayed on his pecs and shoulders.
You deepened the kiss, your tongue curiously exploring and wetting Bradley’s lips before meeting his own tongue slowly. Bradley couldn’t help the groan that escaped him as you pressed closer to him, your tongue so languidly moving with his own, couldn’t help gripping your hips just a little tighter at the small noises you were emitting whilst hesitantly rolling your hips against his grown hard-on.
“Sweets…” Bradley rasped, breaking the kiss. Normally, you would look down and look bashful, but this time your lips traveled across his jaw, fluttering over his pulse point as you hummed in acknowledgement. As you reached a particularly sensitive point and nipped softly, Bradley let out a low moan, his hands moving up your waist before they skimmed back down to let them rest on the globes of your ass. Kneading and grasping he groaned again, not noticing the way you had stopped kissing his neck.
Tensing ever so slightly, you sat up from your position, looking down as nerves fluttered restlessly in your stomach.
“Honey,” Bradley’s voice was soft “talk to me, please. Am I doing something wrong? Do I make you uncomfortable?” his fingers gently asked you to look him in the eye from their place at your chin. Blinking, a small crease formed between your brows.
“N-no, never! I’ve never felt as safe as I do when I’m with you.” the answer came to you easy, spilling truthfully from your lips as you looked into your boyfriend’s amber eyes.
“Why do you ask that?”
“I can feel how tense you are sometimes when we’re like this… you always pull away from me darlin’, and I just wanted to make sure we’re on the same page, okay? You can tell me anything. If I’ve done something, or if you just don’t feel like ever doing anything– or if I’m not, y’know, doing enough to turn you on–” he was rambling. He knew he was and yet he couldn’t stop; his worries and anxieties coming out in a way he didn’t want them to. He was almost thankful when you cut him off.
“Bradley, do you think I don’t want to have sex with you because you don’t turn me on enough?” if you weren’t feeling nervous butterflies in your stomach at the aspect of actually feeling ready for taking this step with Bradley, you would have laughed.
“I don’t know… Maybe? Mostly I’ve been worried that I have made you feel unsafe with me. Or that I’ve done something to make you feel as if you don’t want that part of our relationship like that,” it was Bradley’s turn to look bashful. Saying it out loud always made you realize how bizarre some of your thoughts could sound.
“Honey…” you smiled, leaning into your boyfriend again “I– I just… you know I told you how I haven’t done much?” Bradley nodded.
“Of course. I am in no way trying to rush you - I totally understand you may have had other experiences with sex before that makes this uncomfortable and–”
“No, Bradley.” you groaned “you don’t understand–” sighing, you paused for a moment. Maybe it would be better to spell it out. “well… honestly, I’ve never really had sex before–”
Silence hung between two lovers, Bradley’s brows raising slightly in surprise, a feeling of deep guilt settling uncomfortably in his chest.
“Honey… I am so sorry. I never meant– I mean, I figured you must have, you’re so out of this world beautiful…” Bradley looked at you, his eyes soft and filled with love. “I’m sorry, my darling, I just wanted to know if there was something I had done - I will wait for as long as you need,” he straightened up to place his lips upon yours in a soft kiss.
Shaking your head, you broke the kiss, smiling softly at him.
“And– I was kinda hoping you would teach me,” you finished your interrupted sentence, letting your fingers sneak into the hair at the nape of Bradley’s neck, tugging and twirling strands of hair there to ease your nerves. Again, Bradley looked at you with such adoration and love that it nearly took your breath away. His hands were back to soothingly rubbing your sides and hips, the way he held you making you feel precious and secure.
“Darling…” his voice was low but riddled with unspoken emotions, one of his hands moving to cradle your cheek “we don’t have to do anything you don’t want okay. I’m not going anywhere.” his assurance meant the world to you, but you’d felt ready for some time now.
Mulling it over as you first noticed that when the two of you had ended up entangled in bed, or on the sofa, it didn’t make you feel as panicked as it had in the beginning. It felt exhilarating now. It felt like something you wanted. Something you desperately needed with Bradley.
“I really want to.” your voice was firm in its choice, and Bradley sat up more from his position reclined against the headrest to be able to place his lips all over your throat.
“I really want you…” Bradley murmured against your skin as his lips skimmed over the parts he knew had you the most breathless. It drew the tiniest of gasps, followed by a high pitched whimper from you the way he spoke so huskily, so close to your ear, his warm breath momentarily dizzying you.
“Bradley…” you mewled softly “Please!” Bradley’s head was spinning from the sheer thought of loving you like this, but hearing your sweet plea made his breath hitch in his throat, his hard-on jolting slightly in his boxers at the words. Perhaps he should feel some type of embarrassment over that reaction, but he couldn’t find it in him to do so. Not when you were perched on his lap, clad in a loose fitting silken shirt, looking like the divines themselves.
“You say stop and we do, okay?” Bradley searched your eyes, and you nodded, tucking your bottom lip between teeth as anticipation swirled through you. “Gotta hear you say it, honey,” Rooster smirked, reaching up to gently let his thumb draw out your bottom lip from between your teeth. That single act had your breath hitching as he let his thumb trace your lip.
“I say stop and we stop.” you confirmed and Bradley smiled up at you
“Good girl.”
Blinking slowly, you took in the two soft spoken words that had drawn out the most sinful sound from your lips. “Oh, God,” you whispered softly, face heating up in embarrassment. Bradley gently shushed you, before letting his hand inch up your ribcage, his thumbs gracing the underside of your breasts.
“It’s okay, little dove. It’s normal to react this way, alright? Nothing to be embarrassed about.” his voice was so soft, so soothing, that it made you keen even more, needing him closer to you.
“You have no idea how much it turns me on to see you react to me like this…” Bradley wanted you to know that there was nothing shameful in the way you were reacting, and he desperately needed you to understand he never wanted you to suppress any sounds or feelings that might arise between the two of you. He wanted to see it all, hear it all, experience you and your love in its purest form.
His hands wandered ever so slightly further up, gently letting his palm encompass the swell of your breasts in his hands, eyes flitting up to yours to see your reaction to the advancement. Letting out a stuttered breath, you let your head tip back at the sensation of his hands warming the silk against your skin.
As Rooster gently kneaded and pressed against your flesh, another breathy moan spilled from your parted lips. As he let his fingers gently pinch at your pebbled nipple, you cried out, suddenly feeling the need to move. You rocked hesitantly in Bradley’s lap, and another relieved whine left your lips as his hard-on rubbed against your damp underwear.
“Fuck, honey… you’re so beautiful,” Bradley grunted out, trying to hold himself back and not grip your hips and grind you harder down on to him. He truly did believe you had never looked as beautiful as you were now, breath labored, skin glowing in the light that managed to flitter into the room, gently rocking against his lap. He whispered praises against your sternum as his hands slowly kneaded your sensitive flesh, his hot breath fanning over the exposed skin as the shoulder of your night shirt slid down your arm to reveal your breasts.
Bradley took his time kissing and loving your chest, his large hands working up and down your sides, squeezing at your breasts before letting his tongue flutter over hardened nipples, teasing you as you let out soft, high pitched noises. Your brows were furrowed together, eyelids fluttered closed as you moved your hips down on him, panting slightly from the pleasure of his hard cock brushing your clothed clit every so often.
“So pretty…” Bradley murmured before he sucked one nipple into his mouth, groaning at the feel of his lips wrapped around your flesh, relishing in the cry it drew from you, reeling at your body reacting by collapsing closer to him, a hand flying to grasp and tug at his hair. You were pulling him closer, and your movement was starting to become a little frazzled as you were overcome by the pleasure Bradley was giving you.
“Brad–” you were gasping, almost clawing at the back of his head, not sure if you wanted to push him closer to your chest or tug him away. Squirming in your boyfriends’ lap you cried out again, whimpering softly over and over again as you felt his lips release the nipple he had been sucking on, moving to give the other some much needed attention. The cool air against your saliva slick skin had you mewling again. It was all so much, too much, it felt too good, it was dizzying and overwhelming, and Bradley’s hands were touching parts of you you didn’t know were sensitive and–
“Stop!” it was gasped, breathlessly as your eyes shot open, chest heaving before looking down at your boyfriends worried face.
“Too much?” Bradley cooed, reaching up to let his fingertips grace your cheek. Nodding shyly, you leaned into his touch, face heating at the notion that you needed a break.
“It– it was too good, I-I couldn’t…” you trailed off, not entirely sure why you had asked him to stop. There had been a pressure building and sparking in you, and it frightened you. The pleasure you felt when the two of you made out, when he touched you, it was tame in comparison. No one else had ever made that… pressure happen before.
Bradley shushed you softly, licking his lips and smiling softly up at you “S’okay, darling… we’re not in a rush, are we? And if you decide that’s enough for tonight, then that’s alright too.” he assured you, thumbs rubbing against your waist. He couldn’t help that his eyes flickered momentarily to the glistening skin around your breasts, an unfamiliar feeling swirling deep in the pit of his chest at the sight of his saliva marking your skin. It almost made him groan with pleasure, seeing himself on you in any capacity.
“No, I… I really want you. I truly feel ready, because I’ve been thinking of loving you like this for so long now…” you trailed off, again looking down at where your body sat on top of his, stomach flipping a little as you took in the sun kissed skin of his abs… and that dusting of hair that disappeared beneath his boxers. “I just feel a little nervous” you admitted in a whisper, not being able to help the fluttering nerves within your stomach.
“Don’t be nervous… I’ll guide you through it, sweet girl,” Bradley murmured, nudging his nose against yours before letting his lips slowly move with yours, taking his time to let his tongue taste yours, until your arms were once again wrapped around his neck.
“That’s it… good girl, keep going,” Bradley whispered against your lips as you again hesitantly rolled your hips against him. Soft mewls left you at his words, and Bradley couldn’t help but smiling into the kiss, filing away every reaction to his actions for later.
“Does that feel good?” he hummed as he gently gripped your hips, helping you find the right angle to let his cock catch at your entrance before sliding up to your clit. The silk of your panties was dark with your slick, and Bradley could soon feel it covering his own underwear too.
“Yes,” you breathed out, letting your forehead press against his “it– feels funny,” you whined, squeezing your eyes shut as that pressure started to come back, even stronger now. Bradley hummed low in his throat, one hand making its way between your bodies to put more pressure where you needed it.
“Bradley!” you gasped, body jolting slightly as his leaking cock head pressed harder against your sensitive clit. “It’s okay, baby… you’re alright, I’ve got you,” Bradley whispered as he kissed right below your ear, not stopping the slow but steady rocking of your hips.
“I feel like I’m gonna– gonna–” your trembling voice was interrupted by your small gasps and soft moans, again taking your plush bottom lip between your teeth as the sensation grew stronger.
“You’re doing so good, honey– don’t stop; just let go for me, baby,” it was as if you needed Bradley’s soft guidance and assurance, because as soon as he told you to, you could feel that pressure spiking, before it snapped and shot through your entire body. The pleasure coursed through your veins as you came with a loud cry, followed by small whimpers of Bradley’s name, burrowing your face in his neck as you whined softly and rolled your hips a couple of more times.
“There you go… such a good girl… are you alright, doll?” he’s murmuring softly and sweetly against your neck, your pulse thudding hard and fast against his warm lips. Lips that have curved slightly upwards as you cling onto him, fingers gripping at his slightly flexed biceps. You nod against his shoulder, placing a languid chaste kiss to his exposed skin.
“I’m– I don’t think that’s ever happened to me before” heat again spread across your face, and Bradley couldn’t help the way his chest filled with pride, and an unfamiliar emotion that stirred somewhere close to his abdomen. “Did so good, honey. Looked real beautiful for me,” Bradley smiled, gently holding your hair back from your face before pecking your lips. His hands roamed down your body, until his fingers played with the hem of your underwear. Snapping the elastic slightly, making you gasp, he chuckled softly.
“Can I take these off?” nodding, you felt anticipation roll inside you in stormy waves as the two of you moved your bodies so Bradley could take your underwear off. Bradley’s hands kneaded softly at your thighs as you settled back on his lap, his amber eyes searching your worried face. Licking your lips, you took in Bradley’s completely naked form. Sure, you’d seen naked men before, but nothing compared to the golden tan of Bradley’s skin - the ripple of his abs, the dusting of hair that traveled from below his navel to his pubic bone and– oh god.
You of all people was aware of Bradley’s size. He was tall, muscular, slightly burly, and his strong embrace always made you feel safe - whether he was lifting you and dropping you into the ocean earlier today, or if he made a point of helping you reach something high up (even if you didn’t always need the help) - but you hadn’t really used your imagination to be able to conjure this. Resting, hard as a rock, against his stomach, you wondered silently how on earth he would fit in you.
“Honey,” Bradley tried to keep from chuckling, smirking, or sounding too smug when he spoke “it’s alright. We’ll go as slow as needed, love. I’ve got you.” and you trusted your boyfriend, you truly did, but still - how?
As a distraction, Bradley’s ever working hands had snuck upwards, the pads of his fingers now caressing your sensitive clit, drawing a soft mewl from your parted lips. “That’s it, relax,” he murmured in encouragement as his fingers gently rubbed at your core, letting his middle finger slip further and further into your heat.
“Oh!” pitching forward, you rested your forehead against your boyfriend’s broad shoulder, moaning involuntarily at the feeling of Bradley pumping his finger in and out slowly, stretching and preparing you. It felt good, that one finger didn’t yet feel uncomfortable. It was when he added a second one that you whined a little and squirmed against him. His voice soothed you, and as he found a spot within you that had you gasping every time his fingers graced it, you found your hips slowly starting to rock against his rhythm to seek out more of the feeling.
“Bradley…” his name tumbled from your lips in a needy gasp as his lips attached themselves to the delicate skin of your neck. You could feel his hot, wet tongue glide over the skin, his teeth nipping slightly before letting his lips close over the area to gently mark your neck.
“Yes, sweetheart?” his reply was murmured against your skin, his mustache scratching lightly above your pulse point. “Think I want–” you paused “think I want you now…” it was strange how the words rolled off your tongue, embarrassment filling you up slightly at the admission, even with Bradley’s fingers knuckle deep in your pussy. The soft groan that reverberated from your boyfriend's chest made you squeak slightly in surprise, your walls clenching around his fingers as the sound spurred on your arousal.
“Alright,” Bradley withdrew from the crook of your neck, where he’d had his face nuzzled, to look you in the eyes, giving you a soft smile as his fingers too withdrew from within you.
“Do you have any condoms, sweets?” he murmured, tilting his head upwards slightly to place a chaste kiss to your warm cheek. Shaking your head no, you placed a soft kiss to his warm lips, admitting to him that you had been on birth control for some years now. You momentarily worried he might ask why you’d bother with contraceptives if you were a virgin. You’d rather not go into detail about how it can regulate your cycle. He just smiled, eagerly chasing your lips for another kiss as his hands stroked up and down your waist - where your silken shirt had created a halo around your midsection.
“Tell me again what we’d do if you said a certain word?” Bradley looked into your eyes, his brown ones calm and filled with a serenity you could easily get lost in, as his large hand gently held your chin. Licking your lips, you managed a small smile down at your lover as you sat straddled across his lap, his hard cock leaking precum all over that faint line of hair that drove you absolutely insane with want.
“I say stop and we stop.”
“Good girl,” at your slight shiver at the deep timbre of his voice, your boyfriend couldn’t keep his smirk at bay, loving how well you responded to his praise.
Large hands gripped your hips as you rose slightly to your knees, your own hands which had been alternating between gripping Roosters biceps, clinging onto his shoulders, or being wrapped around his neck, now fluttered hesitantly down his chest, over his abdominals and down to that tantalizing little trail… The sound Bradley let out sounded relieved yet also a little strained as you hesitantly let your fingertips grace the underside of his hard cock, following along the prominent vein that ran along it.
“Should I—” you licked your lips, gaze flickering up momentarily to his “should I touch you, before we..?” Bradley smiled softly and shook his head no “I am embarrassingly close to coming just from seeing you like this honey… it’s alright,” a soft smile spread on your lips as you still let your fingers curiously feel around your boyfriends hard shaft, feeling the ridges and veins, surprised at the silky feel of the warm skin. Humming softly you settled on letting your hands rest upon his shoulders again as he again gripped your hips to guide you into a position he deemed appropriate.
Bradley’s head was spinning as he positioned his cock against your entrance, gently dragging his swollen head between your slick folds, having to take shallow breaths as he heard your whimpers and mewls. He repeated this motion over and over, ghosting over your hole, alternating between stimulating your clit and the sensitive skin around your heat. Soon enough you were rutting against the underside of his cock, making him slicked with your arousal.
“Fuck, you feel so good!” Bradley groaned as you buried your face in the crook of his neck, desperately trying to get more of him. “Bradley! Please, please,” you whined, biting down slightly on his skin, drawing a deep moan from his parted lips. He let the very tip of his cock slowly enter you before he withdrew again, sliding his cock up towards your clit again. You had gasped and moaned at the short sensation, and Bradley could tell you thought you could take all of him with the way you were bucking your hips, trying to sink down on him.
“Slow down, baby… I’ll get you there, okay? Can’t take all of me yet…” he murmured against your temple, letting his lips linger there for a moment before he again lowered you slightly onto his weeping cock, the very tip breaching your core.
You were panting now, as Bradley stilled your hips on him, this time not withdrawing as he let himself dip slightly deeper into you. Eyes widening, you whined at the sharp sting of his girth stretching you.
“Shh, honey, you’re alright, I’ve got you,” his calm voice grounded you and you nodded against his shoulder. Bradley had done his best to prepare you, and you were thoroughly wet for him - but still, as he gently lowered you deeper onto him, tears sprang from your eyes at the sharp sting of being stretched by him.
“I’m sorry, love.” Bradley furrowed his brows as he gently guided you to look at him, wiping at the tears that had leaked from your lashes. “Do you want to stop?” he murmured, large palm soothingly stroking up and down your spine.
Even though the sharp sting wasn’t exactly comfortable, the feeling of his warmth, and the feeling of being so full still made your insides vibrate with feelings of love and arousal - a feeling that felt rather paradoxical in relation to the sharp stings you felt whenever you moved. Ultimately you spoke a tiny no, leaning into Bradley, seeking his solace and his safe embrace. Whenever you felt vulnerable, or were hurting, you sought out his safety.
“Being so brave, little dove… being my good girl,” Bradley cooed, letting his strong arm wrap around you, his other slowly moving downwards, gently letting the pad of his finger rest against your clit as he lowered you a few more inches, until finally you sat flush against him. Biting your lip, your fingertips dug into the skin of Roosters biceps hard as he shushed you and praised you even more, making your stomach flip and your heart stutter in your chest. You had no idea mere words could ignite such a fire within you.
Speaking softly to you, whispering praise and words of love into your ear, Bradley slowly let his fingertips grace over your back, down your arms, over your thighs, your breasts.. as his thumb gently swiped over your nipple, you let out a needy moan. Gently pinching, he drew out another whimper from you, and your breathing seemed to pick up again as he rolled it between his fingers, his palm massaging and kneading your flesh.
“S’that feel good, honey?” he smiled as you looked him in the eyes, biting your lip and nodding as you experimentally rolled your hips - scrunching your face up, you whined softly at the feeling of discomfort, which was soothed by Bradley’s quick, distracting hands.
Letting your lips crash against his, Bradley groaned as he used both hands to knead and pinch at your tits and nipples as you rocked slowly on his cock. Gasping and whimpering, you tried lifting your hips and sinking down again, finding that if you did it ever so slightly, it didn’t sting as much and it actually felt good when the tip of his cock hit that little spot inside you.
“Bradley!” you whimpered against his lips, his name slightly muffled. After the initial pain, you were reeling from the realization that your boyfriend’s cock was buried in your pussy, and he was letting you ride him slowly. Moaning, you leaned slightly back, taking in the sight before you. In your frenzy, you had messed up his hair, and his eyes were glossy with lust, lips slightly swollen. The setting sun was making his tan skin glow, and the freckles that had formed on his shoulders made him look all the more incredible to you.
“Fuck, god, you’re so fuckin’ tight… feel fucking incredible, Jesus, baby… I love you,” Bradley’s eyes were rolling upwards as you rode him a little faster, his cock pulsing with every slight movement you made.
“I love you,” you whispered, the words ghosting over his skin. Bradley let his hands wander from your tits down to the globes of your ass, squeezing and kneading your asscheeks as you moved up and down on his cock.
“Can I take over a little, baby?” he murmured into your ear, licking your lips, you nodded quickly, feeling Bradley’s grip on your ass tighten as he lifted and grinded you down against him. A gasp was quickly followed by a loud moan as he angled your hips ever so slightly, making your clit catch on his pubic bone. He sped up slightly, guiding your hips so they rolled and bounced slightly in time with his small thrusts, the head of his cock brushing that spot again and again, making you whimper and keen over and over.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Bradley grunted and groaned as he fucked you onto his leaking cock. He was so fucking close, you were gripping and clenching so hard around him, and he was sure he was going to blow his load soon. “Baby you feel so fucking good.. god, this tight little pussy was fuckin’ made for my cock, wasn’t it? Was made to be fucked by me,” Bradley grunted as he babbled, that feeling he felt earlier exploding in his chest at your needy mewls.
Growling, he took your loud moans as his go ahead to go just a little faster, fuck you just a little deeper. His one forearm wrapped around the curve of your ass as the other snuck up between your shoulder-blades, where he gripped the hair at the nape of your neck. A loud cry spilled from your lips as your eyes fluttered close, your body instantly relaxing and going almost limp in his hold as you moaned repeatedly. Growling, Bradley bucked his hips to fuck into you instead of lowering you down on him, and your needy cries made him almost black out with pleasure.
Soon, he heard you gasping, moaning and crying his name over and over in pleasure. “That’s it honey, tell me who’s making you feel good.. who’s fucking this tight little pussy of yours so good,” his words made your eyes roll back into your head, and with a cry of his name you came for the second time, your slick creating a creamy ring around the base of his cock as he fucked you through the first orgasm you’d ever experienced with someone inside you.
Whimpering and mewling, the waves of pleasure didn’t stop coming, it just kept going as Bradley’s cock pumped fast and deep into your wet cunt. Your bedroom was filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, a wet sound that you found rather arousing, and your labored breaths and moans.
“Babe, god I’m so close,” Bradley moaned, holding you tighter to his chest as he gasped, his cock and balls pulsing with the need to release. “Should I pull out?” he wasn’t all together sure he could. “No!” you whined, fingers tangling themselves in his hair. You’d never felt like this before. Your chest was swirling with the need to keep him close, keep him inside of you, you never wanted him to leave.
“Need you, Brad, need you!” you could barely form a full sentence, your words sounding more like whimpery babbles. At your pleas, Bradley grunted and groaned before he swore loudly, his hips bucking before his cock twitched and his release spurted deep within you.
Feeling his warm seed spilling in you, your eyes rolled back slightly again as you moaned. Bradley’s whole body was shuddering as he ground you down against him, his balls tightening again and again as he released ropes upon ropes of his cum deep in your pussy.
Sweaty bodies tangled together as you slumped forward against his heaving chest, your own breath labored and unsteady. Nuzzling into his pecs, you could hear and feel the way his heart beat hard inside his chest. “Love you,” you murmured, kissing at his sternum. Rooster’s large hand caressed the back of your head as you both came down from your highs.
“Might hurt a little when I pull out…” he murmured against the top of your head, and you let out a dissatisfied whine whilst pouting.
“Are you okay, honey?” he continued, and you smiled and nodded, feeling perfectly content as you laid in the safe arms of your lover, having just given him all of your love, and receiving all of him and his love back.
AHHHHH fuck this one took forever to finish, and i'm not entirely happy with the ending - but i hope someone might enjoy it still<3 please let me know what you think! i'm always open for constructive crit <3
special thanks to coley and em for helping me through my writers block and cheering me on<3
#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw x you#bradley rooster bradshaw x you#rooster x reader#rooster x you#bradley bradshaw fic#bradley bradshaw imagine#bradley bradshaw smut#my writing#smut
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Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 4 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: As you and Bradley start to blur the line between professional and personal correspondence, you feel yourself falling for him even more. He has charmed your students as well as you, and you decide to continue taking a chance on him.
Warnings: Fluff, language, Bradley sounding hot
Length: 3800 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader
Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist
Bradley spent an hour bundling up all of his letters to your students, getting them ready to be sent back to California. Sure, he wanted to impress you, but he also couldn't deny that he was attached to hearing from Oliver, Violet, Jayden and everyone else. And according to you, they were just as happy to hear from him.
Without giving it a second thought, Bradley went all in with your personal email address. An account where he assumed you could say and send anything you wanted to. One that nobody else was monitoring. His thoughts strayed constantly over the past few hours to what that might mean. What did you deem too personal for your school account?
You told him you were single, and you made it seem like you were into him. You said he gave you butterflies, and now he desperately wanted to see this thing through. When he closed his eyes, he could picture the photos of your smiling face, and he felt a little dizzy. He wanted you to tell him everything. He wanted you to wait for him so he could take you on a date. Or several. He wanted to know what your lips tasted like.
It sounded like your ex was a real tool if he didn't appreciate what you did and how hard you worked. You taught eighteen kids enough about aviation that they asked Bradley some pertinent questions and brought up information that was relevant to his job. He was impressed as hell, and he thought he could be better than what you had before. He already knew without a shadow of a doubt that you were better than Vanessa. It was obvious.
"Lieutenant Bradshaw."
He turned toward the voice calling his name as soon as he dropped the package with your name on it off at the mail center. "Hey," he called out to the mechanic who let him take those photos for your class a few weeks ago. He read his jumpsuit again just to be sure. "What's up, Marty?"
He jerked his thumb toward the main deck and said, "I just got around to unpacking some new engine components. You still writing to those kids?"
"Yeah."
"I'm about to do some repairs if you want to take some more pictures or a video for them."
Bradley had been planning on stalking his inbox for the rest of the day in the hopes that you'd write back and comment on his brief missive telling you he wanted the conversation to go further, but this seemed better than driving himself crazy. He could practically picture you and your kids flipping through some photos and watching a cool video he managed to snag for you. "Yeah, Marty. Let me grab my phone, and I'll meet you out in the shop."
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After you read the email from Bradley where he called you Gorgeous, you were up most of the night. First, you screeched and almost spilled hot tea all over yourself as you rushed to set your mug down on the coffee table so you could giggle and kick your feet in the air. Then you read and reread the short email for about five minutes, curled up in a little ball with your phone right in front of your face. Then you sprawled along your couch and let yourself imagine what he might be like in person.
It was too early to get your hopes up about ever getting that far, but you couldn't seem to stop yourself from thinking about it. You hummed softly, because in your daydream, he lived in San Diego and asked you out on a date, and he was a perfect gentleman until you didn't want him to be any longer. You didn't even consider what reality might hold, because you were sure you wouldn't like it as much.
But for now, he was on board with going further. Your expectations of things included chatting about your likes and dislikes as well as learning more about him. "I'd like to take it further," you read softly, trying to imagine it in a masculine voice. But what did that sentence mean for him? You sat up on the couch. Surely he wasn't going to turn into a pig and start sending you anything too raunchy. Right?
You swiped out of your email inbox and looked at the photo of him standing in front of his jet and moaned. It was actually your mind heading for the gutter as you wondered what it would feel like to be wrapped up in his big arms. What it would be like to tug the zipper of his flight suit down slowly, enjoying the feel of the pull between your thumb and index finger.
It was like the fictional leading man in a romance novel came to life and told you that he thought you were pretty and that he liked your students. You flopped back down on the couch and screeched into the pillow so as not to alarm your neighbors. You needed to respond, but you didn't know what to say since you were probably past the point of playing it cool. You chewed on your lip while you typed and then deleted several versions before sending him something that you thought was okay.
Bradley,
I'd like to take it further, too. I don't usually do this kind of thing (oh, who am I kidding... I never do this kind of thing), but there's just something about you that made me feel like it was worth the risk. I hope I'm not being too bold if I say that I found the photos you sent me quite distracting. However, it's not just your looks that made me share my personal email address with you. I like the way you give me butterflies. There's something sweet that comes through in your writing, and I want to get to know you better. On that note, if you feel so inclined, please tell me three things I should know about you.
Yours Truly,
Your favorite pen pal
Once again, you had written back to him so quickly, it should have been embarrassing, but you had nothing to lose here. You tossed out the bait, and he took it in the most spectacular fashion. You didn't want to miss an opportunity like this, even if he did seem too good to be true.
But he still hadn't written back when you got to work the next morning. The ping of the email alert on your phone made you reach for it immediately, but it was just a reminder to pay your bills on time. As you unlocked your classroom door and flipped the lights on, you considered that maybe your message was a little bit boring. After all, you were the one to bring your personal account into play. Perhaps he was expecting you to reply with some sort of dirty picture. Your cheeks burned with mixed embarrassment. You wanted to take it further, but you didn't know how. You just knew that you wanted to keep him engaged without compromising yourself.
You tucked your bag and your phone away in your desk drawer and pulled out your lesson plans for the day. You'd start things off with language arts and then work your way through math and science before your kids had art class. There was no reason you had to think about Bradley at all right now; he could just wait until later with his big hands and his thick thighs and his mustache and cute smile.
Just before your students were due to arrive, you opened your laptop and logged in to see which parents had emailed you with questions or concerns about their child. You froze when you saw an email that was sent a few minutes ago from Bradley with the subject line A visit to the mechanic's shop. When you opened it up, you found that he had attached a video and a handful of photos.
You were a little bit annoyed that he didn't respond to the message you sent from your other account where you asked him to tell you about himself, but that melted away as soon as you clicked on the video. His face flashed up on your computer screen, and all of the features you'd shamelessly memorized were right there in front of you. Cute smile, tidy mustache, brown eyes, wavy hair. But then you heard his voice.
"Hey. I just thought I'd take all nineteen of my favorite pen pals on a little tour around the mechanic shop aboard the Theodore Roosevelt. Sound good?"
You slammed your computer shut and moaned, thighs pressed tight together as your heart hammered. He was too much. It was just a video. He wasn't even really here, but he was an absolute assault on your senses. He called you gorgeous, but meanwhile it was hard to look directly at him for fear that you'd burst out into a fit of giggles. You shook your tingling hands out and slowly opened your computer again.
"Bradley Bradshaw. How are you this hot?" you whispered at the video paused on your screen. His face was frozen mostly in profile as he looked to the side, and for the first time, you saw some long scars on his cheek and neck. "Oh." They weren't new, rather giving the appearance that they had faded over time. You wondered how pronounced they would feel beneath your fingers. Would he let you touch them? Let you drag your lips across them while your hands found their way to his tousled hair?
After taking a few deep breaths, you let the video play again. Another man joined Bradley on the screen, and he was holding up a long, metal rod.
"This is my friend Marty. He's been a mechanic in the Navy for twenty-six years, and he specializes in aircraft repairs. He knows more about my Super Hornet than I do, and I'm not ashamed to admit that. So I'm just going to stand here and hold my phone still while we watch Marty do his thing."
The rest of the video was fascinating. It was still interesting the second time when you watched it with your class instead of doing your language arts lesson. The kids sat at rapt attention, eating up that little introduction that Bradley gave just as you had. He didn't talk to them like a bunch of little kids who didn't understand anything, which you loved. He and Marty explained what they were doing without making it too juvenile. Then when the video ended, your kids started raising their hands with question after question.
"You know what to do," you told them, holding out a dry erase marker for Jackie to take. She wrote down the list of questions that everyone had for Bradley while you tapped through the photos, once again imagining how warm and rough his hands would feel wrapped around your own instead of an intake manifold.
The impromptu aviation lesson lasted for two hours until your kids left for art class, and now you were a little concerned about all of the additional, more personal questions you had for Bradley besides the ones your class came up with. You wanted to know how old he was and where his scars came from. You wanted to know where he lived now, but you were too afraid of the answer. According to one of the notes he wrote back to Violet, he went to the University of Virginia. He even sounded like he was from the east coast.
You sat at your desk alone, digging your snack out of your drawer along with your phone. There was a new email. You smiled as you realized he must have sent it to you just after he emailed the video he took for your whole class to watch. The opening greeting once again had you kicking your feet beneath your desk, snack forgotten.
Hey, Gorgeous,
I'm still having a hard time believing that you want to get to know me better. Full disclosure, I'm a little nervous you'll get bored talking to me. I don't have much family, and I know it's cliche, but flying really is my passion. I spend a lot of my time on aircraft carriers which makes it hard to maintain relationships and friendships with people on dry land.
Talking to my nineteen new pen pals has been the most exciting part of my deployment. But you're right... you're my favorite one. I could tell from the first letter that wasn't even specifically meant for me that you were funny and sweet. And then I saw what you look like, and I kept going back to the photo for another look. You're just as gorgeous as you are funny and sweet.
Three things you should know about me? One, I'm afraid of spiders. Like so afraid of them that I might have a crisis on my hands if you tell me you have a beloved pet tarantula or something. Two, I loved taking piano lessons so much when I was a kid, I actually still take them. (Now I'm sitting here wondering why I'm telling you embarrassing shit.) My next door neighbor is a retired music teacher, and when I'm home, I trade yard work for piano lessons. Everyone wins. Third, I like giving Gorgeous teachers butterflies. That's a new one, but I thought you should know about it.
I'm giving you some homework, hope you don't mind. I want you to send me a picture of one of those San Diego sunsets where the sky somehow looks both blue and orange at the same time. If you happen to be in the photo, I'm not going to complain. I would also love to hear three things I should know about you.
Please tell your kids they have mail on the way. I hope to hear back from them. And you.
Yours Truly,
Bradley
Oh. This crush was even worse than you thought.
-----------------------------
After days of running drills, Bradley was finally grounded because of a bad storm that was closing in, and he was given a few hours off. He stood out on deck, letting the first drops of hard rain hit his face. He was hoping to get a nice sunset photo to send to you, but the past few days had been terribly cloudy. And now he felt like he was being torn in three directions as his flight suit got wet: he was sweaty, hungry and curious. As a result, he couldn't decide if he should hit the shower, the mess hall or the lounge first.
He reasoned that he'd best appreciate an email from you if he was cleaned up and well fed. If you'd had time to write back to him, it would top off his night in the sweetest way possible. So he took a shower and unfortunately had to eat cabbage rolls for dinner. He chuckled to himself as he walked toward the lounge, picturing a bunch of fourth graders eating dinner in the mess hall and ranking the foods. They would probably love that, actually.
As Bradley logged in and watched his email inbox appear on one of the lounge computers, he muttered, "Hell yes." There was a new message from you, and he couldn't click on it fast enough. Before he started reading, the attached photo caught his attention, and he grunted softly. Fuck.
There you were, on a stretch of beach in Coronado, not even a mile from his house with the sun setting behind you. Your features were in shadow, but your smile was a little shy and very pretty. You looked so soft, standing there on the windswept sand in denim shorts and an oversized sweatshirt with Mira Mesa Elementary printed on the front, and all he wanted to do was touch you. He could already imagine a picnic dinner on that beach, snuggling up with you as cooler temperatures moved in. Enjoying the blues and oranges until the sky got so dark, he'd lead you back to his house with your fingers laced with his.
Bradley,
I'm turning in my homework. I hope I get a passing grade. I'm not usually the student, so I'm a little out of practice. A Naval officer from Top Gun took this photo for me. Apparently aviators just like you are all over the beaches in Coronado.
I have some good news for you. While I'm not actually afraid of spiders, I promise I don't have a beloved pet tarantula. And I'm sorry, but the idea of you still taking piano lessons made me giggle for a solid minute. The mental image is just that adorable.
You always seem to know what to say to make my butterflies go crazy, and that's just through the written word. As an educator, I always stress the importance of honesty to my students. So let me just say that honestly, I'm not going to get bored talking to you. I also can't lie about the fact that I watched the video you sent several times just to hear your voice. (Now I'm the one embarrassing herself.) And I really can't see how you would have a hard time maintaining a relationship while you're away. Maybe your previous partners didn't appreciate how rare it is to find someone who is willing to put in some effort. Or maybe they didn't find your arachnophobia oddly endearing. But I kind of do.
Three things you should know about me: 1. I graduated from college with a 4.0 GPA. 2. Sometimes I fall asleep during movies, especially if I'm snuggled up on my own couch. 3. I have a crush on you.
Hitting send before I can change my mind.
Bradley couldn't help the smile teasing at his lips as he tucked his hands behind his head and read your last few sentences again. He always wanted to continue talking to you, so maybe it wasn't out of the realm of possibility that you wouldn't grow bored with this. Maybe you'd care more about him than going out on dates, unlike Vanessa. He wasn't going to wait before responding to your email. What was the point? You were into him, and he was definitely into you.
-----------------------------
"We got mail!" you announced, holding up the package that was waiting for you in the school office when you refilled your travel coffee mug on your way to your classroom. Your students erupted into delighted conversation.
"Is it from Lieutenant Bradshaw?" asked Jayden.
"Of course it is," Violet told him. "It must be. He's our pen pal after all."
"Did he send us more notes?" Oliver asked, practically bouncing out of his seat in anticipation.
"He did!" you confirmed as you tore into the package and enlisted Harrison to help you hand the individual notes to their recipients. The room went silent as soon as they all started reading, and then one after the next, the kids started to get out their notebooks to start their responses.
You felt warm all over. Bradley was on your mind a lot, and you didn't really want him going anywhere. You watched the video he sent again last night before you went to sleep, and you dreamed about a strong man with a sexy voice curled up behind you in bed. You knew you had a new email from him, but you were waiting until you could sit quietly during your lunch break to read it.
At some point, you were going to have to taper off the aviation curriculum and focus on other things, but you just didn't want to have to do that yet. Not when your class was so engaged. Not when it made you feel connected to a man thousands of miles away who you had feelings for in spite of that fact that you never met him in person. In spite of the fact that you were too afraid to ask him where he lived.
After you eventually walked your kids down to the lunchroom, you were free to read your email from Bradley in peace. But the more you thought about opening it, you started to get nervous. You already admitted you were interested him, so there was really no going back. If he hadn't sent you something similar, you were going to have to crawl under a rock, but you got your phone out as you took a deep breath and started reading.
Hey, Gorgeous,
Now wait right there. I have some concerns. I'm going to address them in order, so please bear with me. First of all, you didn't just pass your homework assignment, you got an A+. I've never seen such a beautiful sunset in my life, and yet it was barely noticeable next to you. But here's my main issue. I can't have another aviator taking sunset photos of you and sweeping you off your feet. How about you just stay off that beach in Coronado for the time being? Give a guy a chance here?
I couldn't agree more about the importance of being honest. Honestly, I'm letting out the breath I've been holding, worried that you were going to send me a photo of you with your pet tarantula. And honestly, smart women really do it for me, so any time you want to bring up that 4.0 GPA, I'm going to need a minute. And honestly, nothing sounds better than watching a movie with you on your couch right now. Can't stop thinking about it, actually.
Please, tell me in an overabundance of detail, what you would do if I promised I would take you out to dinner but then changed my mind and told you that I was tired from work and wanted to spend a quiet evening on my couch with some takeout instead.
You have a crush on me? Gorgeous girl, all I can think about is the couple days of leave I'm going to have once this aircraft carrier finally docks back in San Diego. Where you are. You and my eighteen other pen pals. I think I have a thing for fourth grade teachers. Or maybe it's just you. I can't wait to hear from you again.
Yours Truly,
Bradley
---------------------------
Okay. Some admissions have been made. Little bits of feelings have been established. She has seen him and heard his voice, and I think we're ready to keep taking things further. Maybe a phone call? Maybe another photo or two? We also can't leave the fourth graders hanging. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
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Stars Align: Part 7
Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Reader
Warnings: Smut, Angst, Fluff, Pining, Mentions of Abuse, Violence, Angry Bradley, Sexual Themes, Alcohol, Swearing, Just Really Soppy Scenes.
-- Part 6 Here --
----------------------------
18+ Only
----------------------------
Past:
Bradley decided to skip the party that night. Michelle was getting on his nerves and he just really missed his best friend. He hadn’t spoken to you in over a week and withdrawals began to set in.
You plagued his dreams and he longed for your company, your adorable laugh to ring out when he made a really bad joke, or just to have a genuinely interesting conversation with someone who wouldn't look at him like he was looney.
All he got these days was stale conversations about the latest fashion, who slept with who, and how that guy they met at that party that one time got a fake ID.
He was growing quickly bored of this new lifestyle, and wished he’d taken the time to savour his old life when he had it. To savour you.
Bradley was finally coming to terms with the fact that he should have told you how he felt before you left, but the opportunity was now long gone and he would likely never have the chance again.
But that didn’t mean he couldn’t still tell you how much he cared.
“Ma, I’m home!” Bradley called as he jogged up the stairs to his bedroom.
Carole poked her head out of the kitchen, “I thought you were at Michelle’s tonight?”
“I was gonna, but I really just need to talk to Birdy.” He said as he stopped at the top of the stairs.
“Okay sweetheart, I’ll get dinner started.”
Bradley disappeared into his bedroom and shut the door, he took a deep breath as he picked up the phone.
“Hi this is Y/N, I’m not here right now. Please leave a message and I’ll get right back to you!” Your sweet voice rang over the other end, and it gave Bradley goosebumps. Simultaneously it also filled him with guilt. You kept missing one another, and it was mostly his fault.
The line beeped and he cleared his throat.
“Hey Birdy, sorry I missed your call yesterday, looks like we keep missing each other.” He chuckled sadly, cleared his throat again and sighed, “I really, really miss you, kid. Life’s not the same without you. Please call me back, I don't care what time it is, just call, I'll answer.”
He hung up and rubbed his face frustratedly.
Part of him wanted to pack a bag and catch a bus or plane over to you, but he knew it wasn’t the right time.
Not yet anyway.
Bradley looked around his bedroom for a moment, until he had an idea.
He got up and crossed the room to his desk and pulled out a sheet of paper.
If he couldn't tell you how he felt, he decided he'd write about it instead.
————————————
Present:
The weeks passed in a beautiful blur, and you were really growing accustomed to life in the little bungalow with Bradley.
He couldn’t keep his hands off of you, and he was your biggest supporter when it came to your art, which was flowing out of you with ease.
He made it hard to concentrate when he kissed your neck from behind while you tried to paint, but once he’d taken care of you, well and truly breaking the bed, that’s when some of your best work was created.
One day you were lounging in the back yard catching some sun, while Bradley did some gardening, shirtless and in his favourite jorts. The sun glistened against his tanned, sweaty body, and you couldn’t help the way your core throbbed as you bit your lip and watched his muscles ripple as he worked hard to move around a series of large stones.
He glanced over at you and caught you staring, and a wide grin spread across his face.
“Really? Like this? I’m disgusting.” He chuckled.
“I know, but it's really doing it for me. Please?” You stuck out your bottom lip and pleaded.
Bradley couldn’t resist you if he tried, especially not when you lay in such a small bikini, face flushed by the sun and lust. He straightened, wiping the sweat off of his forehead with the back of his hand. He sauntered over to you slowly, teasingly, and gave you a wink as he grabbed your calves, slowly sliding his hands up to your thighs and pushing your legs apart, crawling in between them.
He captured your lips hungrily and took your breath away as your hands wandered his sweaty abs.
You wrapped your legs around him and he moved his lips to your neck, and down, down, sucking marks into the valley of your breasts until he reached your bikini top. He tugged at it gently with his teeth and -
“Hellooo? Anyone home?” A voice rang out, and you pushed Bradley off of you, blushing bright red. Bradley groaned as he pushed himself up and off of your lounger.
“Who is it?” You whispered, flustered.
“Nat.” He mouthed back, then took a deep breath to calm himself. “Out here Nat!” He called. “I really need to start locking that door.”
You chuckled and adjusted your bikini. No one knew about you and Bradley yet, you'd been keeping your relationship in a secret little bubble of bliss, not keen on other peoples unwanted opinions just yet.
Nat poked her head out the back door with a grin. ''Hey guys! I did knock, but I guess... never mind.'' She could obviously tell she had interrupted something by the flushed looks on both of your faces. ''I'm heading over to the Hard Deck for a few drinks, just wanted to see if you're interested?''
Bradley looked over at you and you shrugged, ''Sounds fun to me, I just need to get changed.'' you smiled.
Bradley sighed, ''Yeah ok, can I shower first?''
_____________________________
Past:
Bradley was positively bouncing as he waited at the airport's arrivals terminal, you were finally getting off of the plane to come and stay with him for the summer, and it had been months since he had last been able to hold you, even if it was just platonic.
He craned his neck as he waited for you to arrive, growing more and more impatient by the second, until he saw your smiling face bobbing along with the crowd. You'd had to jump to see over the heads of some of the passengers, but when you spotted Bradley, you ended up in full sprint, zig zagging past everyone to get to him.
As soon as you were close enough, you dropped your suitcase and jumped into Bradleys arms. He spun you around with his face buried in your hair, and he felt as if he could fly in that moment, he was so happy.
''Oh my god, you have no idea how much I've missed you lil bird.'' he mumbled into your hair.
''I missed you more!'' you exclaimed as you pulled back and cupped his slightly less chubby cheeks to inspect him. ''I've missed you and your dumb moustache.''
Bradley chuckled as he put you down, grabbing your suitcase and your hand as he walked you to his truck.
You sang along to cheesy 80's hits and caught up on the past few months as he drove you to his house, and Bradley couldn't stop glancing over at you, thrilled that you were finally back with him, even if it was just for a little while.
''So how's Michelle?'' you asked, teasingly, ''Have you done the thing yet?''
Bradley blushed and cleared his throat as he eyed the road, ''Uhm, we broke up, and no.''
You looked over at him with wide eyes, ''Oh, I'm sorry Brad, you never said anything. What happened?''
''I took too long.'' He shrugged.
''Took too long to do what?''
''Sex, Birdy, I took too long to fuck her.'' He said plainly, a hint of humour behind his lips.
''Ah, gross, Brad. Didn't need to put it so crassly.'' You cringed, ''I am sorry though.'' you nudged him gently.
''It's okay, she wasn't right for me.''
You wanted to say 'I knew it.' or 'I told you so.', but you didn't. You didn't need to, you knew he knew.
''Why did you hold out on her? Thought you just wanted to get it over and done with.''
''I couldn't stop thinking about what you said, about the first time needing to be with someone I actually care about.''
You blushed and nodded, ''Yeah, that's sort of why I still haven't done it either.''
Bradley glanced over at you for a moment, but he said nothing, turning his attention back to the road.
Before long you were pulling up on his drive and you hopped out before the truck even fully came to a halt. You legged it inside and skidded into the kitchen, where Carole stood brewing a cup of tea.
''Carole!'' you screamed, running over to hug her.
''Oh sweat pea! I'm so happy you're finally here.'' she hugged you back and kissed the top of your head. ''It's gonna be so nice to have another woman in the house again.''
Bradley walked in and put your suitcase against the wall. He scoffed, ''You mean 'girl'.'' he said teasingly.
You shot him a glare, ''Shut up Bradshaw, I don't even wear princess pyjamas anymore.''
Carole laughed and shooed you both upstairs to unpack.
Bradley showed you to the guest bedroom and sat with you while you unpacked your things into the little chest of drawers.
''So, any boyfriends or anything your side?'' he asked as he leaned back on his elbows.
You scoffed, ''No, they're all dreadful where I live. I have got a friend though, her name's Gabby, I think you'd really like her.''
''I'm glad you're fitting in, but don't forget where you really belong.'' he sighed, laying back against the bed, his torso exposed. You pried your eyes away and forced out a chuckle.
''And where is that?''
''With me.'' he said simply.
You stopped for a moment, but then realised he must have meant physically, as in back in your home town, and you said nothing.
''Woaaah, what are these?'' You heard him say suddenly, and turned around to find Bradley fishing a pair of thongs out of your suitcase.
You gasped and snatched at them, but Bradley moved them out of reach.
''Give them back, Bradshaw!'' you swiped again, falling onto the bed as Bradley held them up high.
''Not until you tell me what they are, dental floss?'' he teased.
''Shut up, I'm not a kid anymore.'' you threw yourself onto Bradley and pinned him under you, snatching the underwear out of his hands. You looked down and you were now face to face with him as he chuckled, and your face must have looked even redder up close.
''I know you're not, Birdy, you haven't been for a long time.'' he was suddenly serious as you hovered over him.
You pushed yourself up and shoved the thongs back into your suitcase, zipping it up.
You stuck your tongue out at Bradley, ''I'll unpack the rest later. Once you're in your own room.''
_______________________
Present:
The Hard Deck was packed by the time you arrived, and Bradley took your hand as he lead you through the crowd towards the pool table at the back. You smiled as you saw the familiar group you'd come to adore over the past few weeks.
You said hi to everyone and wedged yourself in between Jake and Bob as they asked you to help settle a debate.
Bradley went to the bar and grabbed a round of drinks.
''So Baby on Board here says showering at night is better, but I say showering in the morning, so you're fresh for the day, what do you think?'' Jake drawled and took a sip of his beer, sure you would agree with him.
You laughed, ''Well, I think it depends on your lifestyle, but personally I shower at night, you're not gonna get dirty or sweaty while you sleep, and if you do I'd suggest a morning shower. But the way I see it is if you shower before bed, then you're all soft and clean and sleep better, and should still be clean in the morning for the day ahead. If you only shower in the morning, by the time you go to sleep you'll be all gross again.'' You shrugged and Jakes face fell, he looked defeated. Bob hooted and gave you a high five.
''I'll have you know, I do get very dirty and sweaty at night, so I'll stick to my mornin' showers thanks.'' Jake said sarcastically, and sauntered off. You and Bob laughed, and he rolled his eyes.
''Last week I lost the debate, so it's only fitting I win this one.'' Bob grinned. ''So, how are...things?''
You blushed and lowered your voice, ''Good, really good, but no one else knows. Can you just keep it between us three for now?''
''You got it.'' he smiled.
You found it difficult to act normal around Bradley for the rest of the evening, having to catch yourself from flirting with him out in the open, and he kept finding himself staring at you across the room for prolonged periods of time before having to remind himself that no one knew.
You were tempted to pull him into a bathroom stall, but as packed as the bar was, you knew someone would notice.
You were sat on a stool as Nat told you an embarrassing story about Jake, who stood not far away trying to convince you that she was telling it wrong, when you noticed Javy's face drop. He immediately stopped his game of darts, and tapped Jake on the shoulder, whispering something in his ear.
Jake looked over and sighed, you couldn't see what they were seeing from your seat, but Jake made his way over to you and leaned over so only you and Nat could hear him.
''Heads up, chickadee, Alice just walked in.''
Your heart began to thud, but you smiled a calm smile and nodded. ''Thanks Jake, where's Bradley? We should probably let him know.''
''Not sure, I'll go find him.'' He patted you on the back gently as he walked off to find Bradley, and you went back to your conversation with Nat, trying to push the fact that Alice was more than likely still unhappy and would be looking to pick a fight with you or Bradley.
You and Nat laughed along to her reminiscing about the days before she was friends with Jake.
''Anyway, so then when I pointed it out to Hangman, he acted as if he didn't do it, and he tried to...'' she suddenly trailed off, distracted by something over your shoulder, or rather someone. She frowned as she stood from her seat.
''What?'' you asked as twisted in your seat, but just as soon as you had turned around, you wished you hadn't. It was if you were inside a horrible, realistic nightmare. You thought you were going to be sick.
Your breath was knocked from your lungs and you stumbled off of your seat, tears prickling in your eyes as you blinked rapidly and fought to breathe.
''Hey pretty girl. It's been a while.''
__________________________________
-- Part 8 Here --
Taglist now open 💛 please let me know if you'd like to be added!
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stranger. | BB x Reader
SYNOPSIS: drunk hookup, no names exchanged, bradley is a pussy eating king.
PAIRING: Bradley Bradshaw x Reader
You pant, breathing heavily
“W-What’s your name again?”
A head pops up from in between your legs, giving you a sight that makes you delirious from the sheer sexiness of it all.
He’s golden, the warm light from the bedside table lamp, casting a glow on his pink cheeks. Dog tags hang from his collar bones.
He’s got pretty eyes, a strong nose and a shit-eating grin covered by a mustache that’s dripping in your slick.
You hadn’t even had time to even exchange names, only knowing that you were mutual friends of Jake who met at tonight’s party. One too many shots later and you’re here getting eaten out by a fighter pilot you don’t even know the name of.
He comes forward, leaning into your breath as he mutters softly. “Bradley. Bradshaw.”
You moan, feeling how his hands slide up your body as he utters his name, embarrassingly squirming under his touch.
“Say it back” He requests, deep brown eyes gazing into yours.
You oblige, moaning his name in a breathless whisper.
“Bradley”
He smiles, kissing you to shut you up before he goes down back in between your legs, pecks littered against the flesh of your inner thighs.
“Say my name and then ask me to eat you out”
You almost can’t believe your ears. You look down, gripping the sheets as you stare the smug bastard down.
“Nicely” he adds, pressing a kiss to your puffy clit as he smirks.
You throw your head back, eyes shutting as you mumble embarrassingly. “Eat me bradley”
His hands roam to your tits, giving them a squeeze
“Louder” he replies, muffled as he’s concentrated in stuffing his face in your vagina, choosing to give small unsatisfying licks until you say it properly.
You cry out, chest rising. “Eat me out, Bradley” you grit, moaning when he finally swipes his nose along your pussy, giving you what you want.
“I don’t like you.” you huff, glaring at the head of hair you’re running your hands through.
You feel him smile against your mound, coming up to snarkily change the topic.
“What’s your name?”
#fic: accident#oneshot#bradley bradsaw x reader#bradley bradshaw#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw smut#bradley bradshaw oneshot#bradley bradshaw angst#bradley bradshaw fluff#bradley bradshaw fanfiction#bradley bradshaw fic#bradley bradshaw imagine#top gun maverick#top gun fanfiction#top gun maverick smut#bradley rooster x reader#bradley rooster x y/n#bradley rooster bradshaw fanfic#miles teller smut#miles teller fanfic#miles teller oneshot#miles teller#rooster x reader#rooster smut#rooster x you#promising young lady : enid writes📝#my writing lowkey shit sorry
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Hotter Than Texas | Part II
Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x F!Reader
A/N: I'm so excited that y'all loved the first part! Thanks for your enthusiasm, you rock <3
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)
WC: 2000+
Part I | Masterlist
“I’m getting hungry.”
Bradley glances at the restaurant sign as he passes it on the interstate, suppressing a sigh. He usually skips lunch on long trips so he can arrive at his destination before nightfall. “I’ll get off at the next exit,” he says.
“Will you?” you exclaim excitedly, as though he’s offered to catch and cook your next meal himself.
Bradley chuckles mildly. “Well, I’m not going to let you starve.”
“You’re so sweet,” you reply, and Bradley eyes you with a grin because he’s about eighty percent certain you’re being facetious.
“What’re are you in the mood for?” he asks as he gets on the off-ramp.
“Something greasy and very bad for my heart.”
Bradley lets out a small laugh. What’s bad for his heart is you sitting next to him being all cute for the next twenty hours straight.
He pulls into the lot of a little diner just off the highway and parks his car while you flip down your sun visor to glance at your reflection in the mirror. “How do I look?” you mutter, mostly to yourself.
Bradley tries not to examine you directly and instead just glances in your vicinity. “Better than the truckers, I bet,” he comments, noticing the row of semis at the back of the lot.
You give him an unimpressed look and then push open your door. “I sure hope they have French toast.”
“I thought you wanted something greasy,” Bradley says, walking around the front of the Bronco to join you.
“I want options,” you state, marching forth toward the front doors.
Bradley strides ahead and pulls the door open for you. He can’t say he isn’t looking forward to having a sit-down meal with you, like it’s a date or something. And, as much as he hates to admit it, he’s almost thrilled at the prospect of the other patrons assuming the two of you are a couple.
You walk through the open door and Bradley stalls for a moment, trying to clear his head. He shouldn’t even be thinking about that sort of nonsense. He and Hangman have enough issues without adding Bradley’s crush on his baby sister to the mix. They’ve just begun to mend their bumpy – to say the least – relationship, and Jake would sure as shit not appreciate his colleague developing feelings for his younger sibling.
“You comin’, sugar?” you call from inside.
Bradley, who’s clearly taken too long of a beat, glances at you in a bit of a daze. He’s sure you just called him ‘sugar’ and that has utterly thrown him. He enters after you and gives the hostess a look that he hopes might resemble a polite smile. But his face feels hot and numb at the same time, so he can’t be sure.
…
“I think I’ll get the pancakes,” you muse, flipping through the menu leisurely.
Bradley smiles at you when you’re not looking. “Want to share some things?”
You glance up at him happily. “Can we?”
Bradley chuckles. “Why not? I could go for a pancake. What else should we get?”
Your eyes light up and you instantly refer back to the menu. “Fried pickles.”
Bradley cringes but he’s still amused. “Those’ll go great with the pancakes.”
“I agree,” you respond without a hint of sarcasm. “Chili?” you continue. “Or tacos?”
“Why not both?” Bradley shrugs.
You give him a serious look. “That’s just crazy talk.”
Bradley laughs. “You’re right, what was I thinking?”
“I sort of want some pie, though.”
Bradley closes his menu and leans forward into the table. “I’ve already thought of that,” he mutters under his breath, as though he’s about to divulge a secret. You lean in too, your bright eyes blinking up at him eagerly. “We’ll get one for the road,” he whispers.
You gasp. “You’re a genius!”
Bradley chuckles, leaning back in his seat proudly. “I won’t deny that.”
…
When the server arrives to take your orders, you let Bradley do the talking, but chime in with little requests now and again; onions on the home fries, maple syrup for the bacon, sour cream in the chili. And Bradley can’t help but delight in the fact that, every time you think of something, you tap his hand that's resting on the table, ‘oohing’ with excitement.
Bradley eyes you with a smile once the server departs. “Maple syrup for the bacon?”
You wave a hand at him. “You’ll see.”
Bradley shakes his head with a smirk. “Not on my bacon.”
“Yeah, my brother warned me that you’re a bit of a square.”
Bradley raises his eyebrows and scoffs. “Your brother said what?”
You grin at him mischievously. “Don’t worry, I can make up my own mind.”
“Your brother warned me that you’re a bully,” Bradley replies, his smile only getting wider. “And, coming from Hangman, that’s saying something.”
You let out a peal of laughter so exuberant that several faces turn to look in your direction.
“Don’t worry,” he adds when your laughter partially subsides. “I can make up my own mind.”
“And?” you ask with soaring eyebrows. “Have you?”
Bradley hesitates for a moment and then decides to respond in a cheeky manner to avoid any awkwardness. “Not just yet,” he says with a chuckle.
You reach out and lightly smack his forearm. “Stop!”
“I’m joking,” Bradley concedes, grabbing your hand before you can strike him again. “It’s not like you’ve ever hit me to get your way,” he says pointedly.
You shake your head with a smirk and withdraw your hand.
…
“Everything was delicious,” you gush to the waitress as she clears the table. “We had such a wonderful time!”
“Glad to hear that, dear,” the waitress gives you a smile and then winks at Bradley, as though she’s in on some scheme with him.
Bradley furrows his eyebrows in amusement as she walks away and then digs into his pocket for his wallet. “My treat,” he says when you reach for your purse.
“No way!” you exclaim. “You’re already giving me a ride. The least I could do is feed you.”
“You don’t have to do anything. I’m happy to be your ride.”
“I insist,” you declare.
“I insist harder,” Bradley presses, laying down several bills onto the receipt tray.
You gaze at him pensively and finally slide your wallet back into your purse. “So, you’re stubborn,” you note.
“So, you’re observant,” he remarks.
You chuckle, shaking your head. “Thanks for lunch, Rooster.”
…
Back on the road, you offer Bradley a turn with the radio, muttering something about not wanting to be a bully by hogging the music. He can tell you’ve said it in jest, but he still wants to make sure he hasn’t offended you.
“You know I don’t think you’re a bully, right?” he says, glancing between your face and the road several times.
You eye him playfully. “Well, give it a minute.”
Bradley chuckles. “It’s getting dark,” he notes after a little while. He was hoping to get farther on the first day, but the prospect of maybe spending an extra day with you on the road doesn’t seem nearly as daunting as it might have in the morning. “Want to stop for the night?”
“I can drive if you want,” you offer.
Naturally, Bradley overthinks your response. He wonders if maybe you’ve had enough of him and would prefer to get to Texas as soon as possible. “No, no,” he responds. “I can drive. I just thought you might be tired.”
“From sitting?” you quip.
Bradley gives you a flat look. “It’s been a long day.”
You shrug. “It flew by.”
That sets his mind at ease somewhat. A day doesn’t fly by unless you’re having a good time. “I think we should stop,” he says.
“Alright,” you respond, “let’s stop.”
…
“You two lovebirds want the mountain or city view?” the hotel’s front desk clerk enquires with a beam.
Bradley is about to explain that the two of you will, in fact, require separate rooms because you are the absolute opposite of lovebirds, when you respond with, “Mountain, please.”
The clerk hands you a key and Bradley follows you down the hall mutely, with both of your suitcases in tow. He’s not about to dispute your decision to share a room, despite knowing that it’s exactly what he swore he’d avoid doing the moment he laid eyes on you.
You open the door and enter, holding it open for Bradley so that he can bring in the luggage. He sets it down gingerly by the door and straightens his back to look around. The are two double beds against the wall and a large window with a spectacular view of the Santa Catalina range.
You flop down on one of the beds with a contented sigh. “You know what, darlin’? I am tired.”
Bradley watches you climb further up the bed and rest your head on one of the pillows. He’s used to you calling him all sorts of terms of endearment at this point, but it still warms his heart each and every time you do. “No dinner tonight, sweetheart?” he responds, adopting your speaking style on a trial basis.
You lift your head from the pillow. “Let’s just order in?”
You seem unfazed by the fact that Bradley just called you sweetheart. Meanwhile, he’s nearly thrown up from the anxiety it’s caused him. He resolves not to call you that – or any other overly-friendly name – ever again. “Yeah, we can do that,” he responds casually. “Pizza?”
You nod. “With barbeque chicken.”
“You got it.”
…
“Did you always want to be an aviator?” you ask, taking a bit of pizza while dusting crumbs off the bedspread.
The two of you are sitting cross-legged atop one of the beds with the open pizza box between you. Bradley grabs another slice. “Pretty much.” He doesn’t really want to get into specifics, because that means being vulnerable, a state which Bradley does not much enjoy.
“Interesting.”
“What about you?” he asks. “What are you studying?”
“Math.”
Bradley nearly chokes. For some reason, he expected something less cerebral. “Are you going to be an accountant, or something?” he asks with a smirk.
You frown slightly. “I sure hope not.”
“Well, what do you want to be?”
“A good person,” you respond thoughtfully.
Bradley lowers his pizza and stares at you. “You are a good person,” he says hoarsely.
You shrug. “I have my days.”
“I mean, I don’t know you very well,” Bradley reasons. “But you seem great. Much better than your brother.”
You laugh and lower your gaze. “Aren’t you a sweetheart?” you say warmly.
Bradley can feel his heart pounding like a double bass drum. The only sweetheart in this room is you and he can hardly keep that to himself. To think that you might be doubting your own integrity is affecting Bradley on a near-physical level. “You’re a good person. Anybody who tells you otherwise is an idiot,” he states.
You smile, still looking downward. “Thanks.”
“You don’t need to thank me.”
You place your half-eaten slice of pizza back into the box and fall back into the pillows, sighing dramatically. “I’m stuffed!”
Bradley, who’s just taken his final bite, mutters around the crust in his mouth. “Me too.” He closes the pizza box and picks it up to set it onto the floor by the bed. Then, he moves to the other bed and lies down on his back with a weary exhale.
“Hey, Rooster,” you call from your bed.
“Hmm?”
“Are you a good pilot?”
Bradley turns onto his side to face you. “I think so.”
“My brother said you were just alright,” you say.
Bradley snorts and throws a pillow at you. You laugh and then stuff the pillow in between your knees. “Joke’s on you, I’m keeping this.”
Bradley adjusts his second pillow under his head and mutters, “You’re welcome.”
“Tomorrow you can choose what you want to listen to,” you say.
Bradley chuckles. What he wants to listen to more than anything is probably you.
“Hey, Rooster,” you say quietly.
“Hmm?”
“Is there any pie left?”
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#bradley bradshaw#rooster#top gun maverick#bradley rooster bradshaw#miles teller#tgm#top gun#top gun fanfiction#bradley bradshaw x reader#rooster bradshaw#rooster x reader#rooster top gun#rooster x you#top gun fandom#rooster fanfiction#rooster fic#rooster fluff#bradley bradshaw fanfiction#bradley bradshaw fluff#bradley bradshaw fic
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for you i'd wait forever
pairing: bradley "rooster" bradshaw x reader
summary: bradley breaks things off with you before a deployment because he doesn't want you to worry about him (4.2k)
warnings: some swearing, bradley's commitment issues, happy ending i promise!
a/n: okay so from what i gathered from my googling is that tapping out is typically for new military graduates (i think?) but this idea was so cute so pls forgive the inaccuracies i have no idea what i'm doing at all <3 and also pls forgive me for the utter lack of writing since the beginning of the year, these last few months have been brutal (creatively and otherwise) but i am hopefully back!!! xx
Bradley thought he knew the tolls of being in the Navy. It was tough on not only him, but the people in his life. For the most part, he’d always put his career first. His life had always been on a set track, and although there were plenty of setbacks, he forged ahead until he got where he was today.
And then he met you. Fell in love with you. Finally knew what it meant to have someone in his corner who was just his. Who knew him for him only, not as Goose’s kid, or Mav’s protege.
For the first time in his life, he could actually see himself spending the rest of it with you. Marriage, house, kids, grandkids—the whole shebang.
That was his first mistake. The more he thought about what life could look like with you, the more he thought about what your life could look like without him. What would happen if something happened to him and he didn’t make it back from this next mission coming up in a few weeks.
He thought about his mom and how she lost his dad—her husband. The man she thought she’d be spending the rest of her life with.
Bradley’s thoughts grew quite grim after that. Countless what if’s and thinking about every possible outcome and he eventually made up his mind. He had to break up with you.
He didn’t want to. Not by a long shot. You were probably the best thing that ever happened to him in his thirty plus years of life. But deep down, he knew that it was the right thing to do. He was about to leave for six, seven months, with little to no contact with anyone who wasn’t Navy. That would definitely take a toll on your relationship. You’d never been through something like this before, and there really was no way to prepare you for what it would be like.
You would worry about him every single hour of every single day, he knew that for a fact. Bradley barely remembered what it was like when his dad was away because he was so young, but he did remember how worried his mom was all the time.
Looking back, he understood now. He didn’t want that for you. The worry would hold you back from other things you wanted to do in life, things that brought you joy and gave you purpose.
With the mission creeping up on him faster than he would’ve liked, he knew he had to do it sooner rather than later.
That was how Bradley found himself on your doorstep right now, pushing down his guilt by telling himself over and over that breaking up with you was in your best interest. He hadn’t called beforehand to tell you he was coming by, so when you answered the door and beamed brighter than the stars when your eyes landed on him, he almost wanted to chicken out.
“Hi!” You exclaimed, immediately pulling him into a warm hug. His arms closed around you out of instinct, thumb rubbing over the sliver of exposed skin at your waist, nose nudging its way against your neck the way he always did when you embraced him.
He inhaled the scent of the lotion you loved to use, that flowery one that sometimes made him sneeze. You always said you’d buy a different one the next time you went to the store, but you always forgot. He didn’t mind it at all though. A small bout of allergies was nothing compared to the inevitable smattering of apology kisses you pressed to his face when you realized you’d forgotten.
Fuck, this was going to be way harder than he thought.
Your hands made their way up his biceps to cup his cheeks, eyes darting around his face. “What’re you doing here? Oh my god, did we have something planned? I’m so—”
“No.” He gave his head a shake, offering you a smile. “No, we didn’t have anything planned. I just…wanted to see you. To talk to you.”
“Come in, come in, I was just about to start dinner,” You hummed, escaping his embrace with an arm hooked through his to tug him over the threshold. “Trying a new recipe I found the other day, not sure if it’ll turn out good or end up being a shitshow, but—well, you can help me be the judge of that, I guess!”
“Is it okay if we talk first?”
If you were confused, you didn’t show it, just changed direction seamlessly, making your way to the couch instead of the kitchen. You sat down, patting the cushion next to you for him to settle on and he did, rubbing his clammy palms against his thighs.
“Is everything okay?”
Everything was far from okay, he wanted to say. Instead he inhaled a deep breath before his next words.
“I wanted to tell you I’m shipping out in a few weeks.”
Your face fell a little, but you nodded thoughtfully. “Okay. What do we do? Is there anything you can tell me? Like, what’s the best way to get in touch with you, when’s the best time, that kind of stuff? Or is sending letters better? Sorry, I feel like I’m asking a lot of questions. I don’t—I’ve never really done anything like this before, so—”
“I think we should break up.” He blurted.
You hesitated before answering, blinking at him like you’d somehow heard him wrong. “What?”
“It’s hard having someone overseas for a long time, even more so when it’s a partner. It was really hard on my mom, and hard for me having to watch her worry like that for months, and I—I don’t want that for you.” He said quietly, not daring to meet your eyes until he gave his poor excuse for an explanation on why he was doing the one thing he swore he wouldn’t do to you.
The moment he’d realized he’d fallen in love with you, he’d promised himself he would never abandon you, never break your heart or your trust, and here he was, doing that exact thing. It was tearing him apart inside.
“I don’t want you to have to go through all that, so it’s just better if we—that we break up now. Before I go.”
“What are you doing?”
“I’m sorry. It’s for the best.”
“Why are you doing this?” Your voice broke just after the last word, swallowed up by a hitched inhale of a breath that had his resolve wavering just the slightest bit. He could barely look you in the eyes the whole time, and now…he didn’t think he could stand the sadness and hurt flooding every single one of your beautiful features.
“All the worrying and the uncertainty of not knowing what’s happening, I don’t—it wouldn’t be fair to you. I care about you too much to put you through all of that.”
You were silent for the longest time, eyes glued to the floor as you processed the information. He thought you were about to start crying with the way your brow creased, but when you finally looked back up at him, your gaze had hardened. “Did these last six months mean nothing to you? You’re just gonna throw everything away because what—you don’t think I can handle it?”
They meant everything to me, he wanted to say. You mean everything to me.
If he was really being honest with himself, it was him who couldn’t handle it. Still, he forged on, thinking it best to just rip off the bandaid. He could live with being the asshole if it meant sparing you from the terrible experience of him being god knows how many miles away for months.
“I’m sorry. I wish you nothing but happiness, Y/N. You deserve better than anything I could ever give you.”
“You wish me nothing but happiness?” You chuckled humorlessly, shaking your head. Bradley’s eyes tracked you across the room as you paced back and forth, guilt ridden expression on full display. All he wanted to do was take all of it back; to kiss you senseless and tell you everything was going to work out, but he couldn’t. He’d burned the bridge, cut the rope. Broke your heart. He felt like the biggest asshole in the world. He probably was. “Screw you, Bradley. I mean it.”
“I’m sorry.” He repeated, for what seemed like the hundredth time. It was all he could say.
“Get the fuck out of my house.”
“Y/N, I—”
You rushed at him, pushing, shoving, sending him stumbling step by step towards the front door until he almost crashed into it had he not managed to pull it open a split second before you shoved him outside. He’d never forget the look of betrayal in your eyes right before you slammed the door in his face.
Bradley forced his feet to take him back to his car, then to drive away before he could have a chance to even try and make things better. He’d most likely end up making things much, much worse. Though he didn’t think it could get any worse with the way he was feeling about himself right now. You were angry at him, and you had every right to be.
But had he lingered at your door only moments after, he would’ve heard the thump against the wood that was you sliding down to the floor and the sob that escaped your mouth.
All because of him.
-------
Bradley was happy to finally be coming back home after ages away, but then he realized it—he didn’t have anyone to tap him out this time. His mind jumped to you first, but there was no chance in hell you’d be there for him. You’d probably moved on months ago. Forgotten about him. And with Mav away on another deployment, he really had no one.
His chest ached the longer he stood at attention, jaw clenched tighter than he meant it to be as he watched the rest of his squad get tapped out by their loved ones. Coyote’s parents, Fanboy’s sisters, Hangman’s nieces and nephews, Phoenix’s girlfriend. They were all emotional reunions, and Bradley was happy for them, he really was. But it sucked being the one with nobody there for him.
He wasn’t expecting the soft tap on his arm when it came. He thought it was a mistake at first; someone else’s family bumping into him accidentally, so he didn’t move. But when the hand didn’t leave its place wrapped loosely around his bicep, Bradley knew it really was for him. He turned around, squinting against the blinding sunlight to see who’d come for him.
“Hi.” You said softly, hand dropping back down to your side. He couldn’t help but let himself take you in, eyes drinking in every single achingly familiar detail of you until you shifted nervously under his intense gaze. You looked so beautiful he almost felt dizzy, just like he remembered but at the same time somehow even better.
“You came.” He said, disbelieving. He could still hardly believe you were actually here.
“I promised you I would.”
“But that—that was before…everything happened. Why are you—what’re you doing here?” The last thing he wanted to sound like was ungrateful, because he was quite literally the opposite, but his mind just couldn’t wrap around the fact that despite him breaking your heart seven months ago, you still remembered what you’d promised him in the very beginning of your relationship.
“What does it mean to tap someone out?” You asked quietly, tracing a finger along the planes of Bradley’s bare chest. Your legs were tangled under the covers, both of you still basking in the aftermath of getting reacquainted with each other again after Bradley had been out of town attending a weeklong training exercise.
His skin was still damp with sweat, but you didn’t mind one bit, too busy exploring the expanse of muscle shifting under his bronzed skin again. “In military terms, I mean.”
He chuckled, hiding a content smile into the hair at the crown of your head. “That’s a weird question.”
“Humor me, Bradshaw.”
“Yes ma’am.” Bradley stroked a rough palm down the smooth skin of your arm, taking a few beats to come up with an answer that would make sense. “Tapping out is a super long standing tradition in pretty much all military units, I think. It comes at the end of a mission, when we’ve come back to base.”
His arm repositioned itself under your head as he scooted closer to the warmth radiating from your body, nose nuzzling deeper against you just so he could engrain the smell of your lingering fruity scented shampoo into his memory forever.
How you still smelled so good even after your…physical activities just before this was beyond him, but he loved it.
“An aviator’s loved ones are usually the ones to do it. Friends, family, those kinds of people. When you tap out your aviator, literally you’re releasing them from formation. But I guess it’s kind of a gesture that means…you’re home.”
Your wandering fingers stilled against his skin, lingering right above his heart. “Can I ask you something?”
“Go for it.”
“Who usually taps you out?”
Bradley remained silent. It was an innocent question, he knew that. He’d told you a little bit about his parents, and you were just curious. Still, it sent a pang of sadness through his chest whenever he thought about what it would’ve been like if they were still around today.
He cleared his throat, sniffing once. “Usually Mav. Or sometimes one of my squad’s family. If no one can, I just gotta wait til everyone else is done.”
“I wanna do it.”
“What?”
“I’m gonna be there next time you come back from a mission. To tap you out.”
“I appreciate it, honey, I do. But you don’t need to.”
“I want to.” You said firmly, pulling away from him to prop yourself up on your elbow and look him in the eye. You looked damn serious too. He raised a quizzical brow. “You said that to tap someone out means to tell them they’re home. I want to be the one to tell you you’re home. Here. With me.”
Bradley opened his mouth like he was going to say something, then snapped shut when no words came out. He really was at a loss for words. No one had ever done that before. Sure, Mav’s offer was always a good one to fall back on, but Bradley had never had someone he cared about as much as he did about you telling him they were going to be there for him.
The next best thing he could think of instead of saying anything at all was to kiss you. So he did.
He pushed himself up towards you, sliding a hand around the nape of your neck and pressing his lips against yours. Not bruisingly hard, but enough to let you know he was all in. The other hand curled around your shoulder, splaying across your back to bring you back in closer to him, until your chests were flush and you could feel his heartbeat thundering under your palm.
He was home. You were his home.
“I told you I’d be here to tap you out, and I meant it.” You said simply, holding his gaze. “I keep my promises, Bradshaw. Even after the way you left things.”
Red hot guilt crept its way through his chest like vines, bringing all the memories of the last time you saw each other right back up to the surface, even after how hard he’d tried to shove them all down. If there was one thing he regretted in life, it was how he left you that night. He didn’t think he’d ever forgive himself for that one.
“I don’t even know what to say, Y/N, I—”
“Then let me say something.” You blurted, wringing your hands. Bradley nodded instantly, still too dumbfounded to reply. “I’ve been thinking about what I wanted to say to you today for months. I don’t even know if I should.”
“You should.” He encouraged, nodding quickly. He’d always wanted you to be able to speak your mind with him. “Don’t hold back. Let me hear it.”
“Okay. Okay, well first of all, you’re an asshole, Bradley.”
He nodded again. He deserved at least that much. “I am. Absolute asshole, I know.”
“But I never stopped loving you. Even though I was angry and sad and confused as fuck as to why you would do that to me, I still loved you. And eventually, I realized that it wasn’t anything I did wrong. You were scared. Of losing me, of me losing you. So you decided it was your responsibility to pull the ripcord before you crashed and burned.” Bradley winced slightly at the comparison and you grimaced at your own poor choice in words. “I—sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”
“It’s okay. You’re right. You didn’t deserve that.”
“You said you didn’t want me to worry while you were gone, well, I did that anyways.” You chuckled, like you were remembering a fond memory instead of the constant state of anxiety you’d been in. “But instead of worrying that the man I love might not make it home, I was terrified that if you didn’t come home, I’d spend my whole life replaying our last conversation in my head. Wondering if there was something I could’ve said or done so you wouldn’t have given up on us so easily.”
“You think that was easy for me? Sweetheart, walking away from you was one of the hardest things I’ve had to do in my whole life.”
“Sure seemed pretty easy.” You scoffed lightly, only a tad spiteful. A low blow, you realized, when Bradley stiffened for a split second, but you held steady.
“It wasn’t.” His reply was immediate and firm as could be, but somehow, that didn’t make you feel any better. “You have to understand, breaking things off was the last thing I wanted to do. But I couldn’t—I thought that if I didn’t, you’d wait for me.”
“I would’ve waited, Bradley! I did wait for you! For you, I'd wait forever because I love you, but you didn’t even give me that choice. You made the decision on your own instead of talking to me about it. That was what hurt the most.”
“I’m sorry.” Bradley said quietly, reaching out to take your hand. His fingers laced through yours almost tentatively, feeling so familiar but so foreign at the same time. There was a point in your life where you never thought that concept would apply to Bradley. “I never should’ve left like that, I wish I could take it all back.”
“I think I understand now why you did it. I understand that fear that comes with the experience of losing a loved one like that. But Bradley, you’re not responsible for my feelings. And I don’t care how scared you get, I’m not going anywhere. From now on, we work things out together, no matter what you think is best.”
“From now on? Does that mean…?”
“You’re my home, Bradley Bradshaw.”
Bradley took your face in his hands and he kissed you, long and hard, pouring every ounce of pent up feelings he’d been bottling up for the past seven months into it. Pain, fear, love, hope—all of it. You were never one to believe in such emotion being able to convey itself through a simple physical action, but now you could honestly say you understood it.
Your hands spread across the broadness of his back, fingers pressing into the crisp starch of his uniform like you were afraid of letting him go , even though he was home and everything was okay now. Losing him the first time made you angry. You didn’t even want to imagine possibly losing him a second time.
He drew back, only far enough to press his lips to your forehead, hands still holding you close as could be. “Thank you for coming.”
“I don’t make a habit of breaking my promises.”
“C’mon, I wanna introduce you to the squad.” He said softly, lacing his fingers through yours. The way he all but bounded over to the group of aviators a little ways away was almost boyish, as was the excitement in his voice when he approached them. “Hey everyone, there’s someone I want you to meet.” Bradley announced, sliding a hand around to the small of your back.
Everyone’s eyes turned on you, conversations petering to a gradual stop as they looked between you and Bradley. You shifted nervously, suddenly feeling unsure with all the attention on you, but Bradley’s thumb rubbed along your skin, soothing you just a bit. “This is Y/N. My girlfriend.”
The tall blond reacted the quickest, snapping loudly before aiming a finger in your direction, along with a shiny smile. “Wait, I know you! You’re the one in that photo Rooster keeps tucked in his helmet. Lemme tell you, he looked at that picture every damn day, it was like—”
Bradley let out a very forced laugh, aiming a not-so-subtle daggered glare at the other man. “Okay, Hangman! That’s okay, I really don’t think—”
“You’re a real saint, taking this one back. If I ever pulled the shit he did, my car would’ve been keyed to all hell when I came home.” Hangman chuckled, giving his head a shake.
“Hangman. Shut. Up.”
“Don’t tell me to shut up, you shut up!”
“You’re the only one talking!”
“Alright, alright, you’re both grown men here,” The dark haired woman sighed, turning towards you. “At least, I hope so.”
You chuckled at that, casting a glance over at Bradley to find him already looking back at you, the back and forth with Hangman already long forgotten given the way he was smiling at you, like you were the force that made the world go round. Taking you in under his arm, he dotted a kiss to your hairline as your fingers came up to intertwine with his again, watching you interact with his squad like you’d known them for years.
It was everything he ever wanted. And now that he had it, he’d never be dumb enough to let it go again.
His mind drifted back to his parents’ fate— how they never got to live out their life together. How there was no guarantee about anything when it came to Bradley’s own fate with you.
And sure, it was scary to be so uncertain about the future, but you’d both climb that hill together when the time came. For now, Bradley could let himself be content. This second chance at a life with you wasn’t one he was planning on taking lightly, not by a long shot.
“Let’s get off this damn carrier and hit the town! Drinks at the Hard Deck, last one there buys the first round!” Hangman’s drawling voice drew Bradley out of his thoughts, just in time to let the words sink in.
You, on the other hand, stifled a giggle at the sight of seeing a group of full grown adults scatter as fast as Bradley’s friends did. Watching Hangman nearly shove Coyote to the ground upon seeing their cars were parked next to each other was something you’d never not get a kick out of.
But Bradley, he didn’t seem as worried about it all. In fact, he walked leisurely with your hand firmly in his, swinging both of them between the two of you as you made your way to your own car.
“Aren’t you worried you’ll be the last one there?”
“I’ll buy the round, I don’t care.” He shrugged. “I wanna spend some time with my girl.”
“Your girl.” You hummed, giving his hand a squeeze. “Gotta say, I’ve missed hearing that.”
“I’ve missed saying it. We’ve got a lot to catch up on, honey. Starting with, do you or do you not have a voodoo doll made in my image that you stabbed with pins when I was away because I broke your heart?”
You scoffed, letting out a not so attractive snort. “Bradley, I mean this in the most respectful way possible—what the hell are you talking about? Where would you even get that idea?”
“I—uh, I had a dream about it? A few weeks into deployment.” He admitted sheepishly, cheeks burning red in embarrassment. You pressed your lips together, trying not to laugh. “You don’t, right?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” You replied, giving his chest a firm pat. You didn’t have a voodoo doll of him, of course, but playing along was worth it just to see Bradley squirm.
“Wait, wait, wait, but you didn’t say no.”
“I didn’t.”
“So you do?”
“I didn’t say that either. But if you’re not sure, I’d watch yourself the next couple weeks.”
His brows furrowed in confusion and a bit of fear as he watched you walk away from him with some bounce to your step. “I…really don’t like the sound of that. Hang on, get back here. Explain, please!”
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#bradley bradshaw#bradley bradshaw x reader#rooster bradshaw x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader#rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw x you#rooster bradshaw x you#bradley bradshaw fic#bradley bradshaw x y/n#rooster bradshaw x y/n#bradley bradshaw angst#bradley bradshaw fluff#first fic in forever WHO CHEERED#it's me i cheered#when i tell you it was a relief to know i can still write things#ok shut up kait#ENJOY <3
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Easy Like Sunday Morning - Bradley Bradshaw x Reader
summary: Lazy Sunday mornings are few and far between for you and Bradley. When they do happen, you make the best of them.
pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x reader
warnings/content: smut, unprotected p in v (or at least, no protection mentioned), dirty talk, praise kink, Bradley worshipping you. Sort of CNC (both parties are awake though when the actual act occurs?)
word count: 1.5k
The morning sun peeked through the curtains over the large window in your bedroom. You yawned and stretched, a much needed gesture after a solid eight hours of fighting Bradley for the covers throughout the night. Beside you, he lay in bed, still snoring peacefully - you were convinced at this point an atom bomb could probably detonate beside his eardrum and he still wouldn’t stir. His tanned arm rested just over the covers, his hand loosely gripping the fabric as he slept. He turned onto his side, causing the blanket to drop slightly, exposing a landscape of golden sunkissed skin dotted with freckles across his shoulders and upper back. Bradley would never admit to it, but he’d been hitting the gym harder lately, and it was starting to show more so as the muscles in his back tensed and flexed as he got comfortable.
Bradley had always been a good looking man. You swore that from the moment you first saw him - dressed in his khaki uniform walking down the streets in Coronado as he and a couple of friends decided to grab lunch off base that day after a briefing. You’d been out for lunch with one of your friends, and Bradley caught your eye from a mile away. Tall, dark, broad-shouldered and handsome - he was perfectly your type. As luck would have it, it turned out that he’d had his eye on you at the same time. Before leaving that afternoon, he’d stopped by the table where you were dining and flashed this beautifully crooked smile at you, the kind that made you just absolutely melt on the spot.
“Sorry for interrupting your lunch, but I couldn’t walk away without telling you how beautiful you are.”
His deep voice sent a shiver down your spine when he spoke, butterflies fluttering in your stomach as your brain processed what he’d said. He laughed when you told him he was sweet, his cheeks becoming rosy as you teased him, and that was that - within a couple of days, he was calling you for a date, and now, two years later, he was sound asleep in bed beside you, in the house you two had purchased together a few short months ago.
You gently placed a kiss to his shoulder blade as you reminisced to yourself about meeting Bradley for the first time, causing him to murmur something softly, eyelids fluttering for a moment before remaining shut. After a few minutes, Bradley flipped back to lay on his back, grumbling quietly as he settled himself back into his rest. His curls were tousled messily from his tossing and turning, something that Bradley would quickly tame the moment he woke up with some hair styling products he had stashed away, specifically for making sure his hair remained in Navy regulation at every moment.
You began to kiss his shoulder again, gently peppering his soft skin with tender kisses as he slept, showering him with affection. Bradley’s eyes fluttered again, a soft smirk forming on his lips as he glanced down at you, your trail of kisses now heading further towards his chest. He hummed softly and shut his eyes again, enjoying your display of tenderness towards him on this lazy morning.
As you trailed your mouth down his body, you peeled back the blankets gently - trying your best not to wake him abruptly. You danced your fingers down his chest to his abdomen, your lips following suit. Once you reached the waistband of his boxer briefs, you delicately placed another kiss to the light trail of hair that extended from his naval to his waistline before sitting yourself upright. Carefully, you straddled his waist, taking care to seat yourself gently on his abdomen. You ducked your head down to begin kissing at his ear, which prompted a soft groan from Bradley.
“Mornin’, honey,” he said sleepily as he blinked his bleary brown eyes a few times in an effort to focus them on you.
“Good morning, sleepyhead,” you hummed, your lips leaving a trail of warm, open-mouthed kisses along his neck, something Bradley could never resist.
“Mhmm,” Bradley shook his head, a strained chuckle falling from his lips as he shifted underneath you in the bed. “Honey, you’re making it really, really hard for me to not just flip you over and-”
You raised a challenging eyebrow as you hovered yourself over top of his lap, settling down on the tenting fabric of his boxers. Grinding yourself against him, Bradley let out a deep grunt, shaking his head as he reached out and grabbed at your hips. He held you firmly in place, guiding your as you moved back and forth, rubbing yourself over top of his boxers.
Bradley gazed up at you with lust-filled eyes as he pushed you back onto his thighs for a moment, reaching a hand down to shove the restricting fabric back off his waist. Your fingers teased and taunted him as you slowly pulled back his boxers, his hardening cock springing forwards as you freed it. Taking his length in your hand, you stroked it gently, your thumb tracing soft, delicate circles around the tip.
“Honey, you’re killing me here,” Bradley rasped, watching you carefully as you continued to toy with him, pumping your hand along his shaft with just enough pressure to drive him crazy.
“Tell me what you want me to do, Roo,” you purred, using his callsign as a means to tease him.
“Fuck,” he panted, shaking his head for a minute to try and compose himself, “I need you to ride me, pretty girl. Think you’re up for it?”
“I think I can handle it.”
You lifted the hem of Bradley’s t-shirt that you’d slept in up, just enough to keep it out of the way as you positioned yourself over top of him. You slid down on to him with a soft whine, tilting your head to the side as you looked down at him, pressing your palms flat against his chest to steady yourself.
“Fuck, that’s it, honey. Lookin’ so pretty bouncing up and down on my cock,” Bradley grunted, his large hands reaching for any part of you he could get a grip on, settling for your thighs.
You bobbed yourself up and down on him with ease, working yourself into a rhythm as you rode Bradley. His fingertips dug into the flesh of your thigh, causing you to whine as you sped up your movements. Bradley’s hands snuck their way up the bottom of your shirt, gliding their way against your sensitive skin before cupping your breasts. He gave them a playful squeeze before sliding them back down to your waist, guiding you up and down on him as he felt your walls beginning to clench around his cock.
“S-so close, Bradley,” you whined, throwing your head back before darting your eyes down to meet his steely gaze.
“That’s it, pretty girl. Let it go for me, honey, I’ve got ya.” he coached, his hands tightening their grip on your hips.
You gasped as you felt Bradley switch his hand placement, one of his hands drifting to your abdomen. He reached down and pressed his fingertip into your clit, massaging it in circles as you rode him. Your orgasm hit you almost immediately after he made contact with your sensitive nub, a wicked grin formed on Bradley’s lips as he watched your thighs shake and the movement of your hips become less precise as you fell apart on him.
Bradley snapped his hips forwards into you, thrusting hard and deep into your throbbing cunt. He desperately pounded into you, his breath hitching in his throat as he brought himself close to the edge. Your name fell from his lips like a sacred prayer, repeating it over and over as his voice rasped - as if there was nothing else on his mind than you.
“Fuck, so good, honey, you feel so fucking good. You’re so good to me, baby girl.” he praised, worshipping you as he came down from his climax.
Breathlessly, you leaned down, pressing your lips to his in a feverish, passionate kiss. Your teeth grazed at his plump bottom lip gently as you pulled your head back, a grin forming on your features as you looked down at him.
“That’s one way to wake me up,” he laughed, shaking his head before gazing up at you with pure adoration in his eyes.
“Come on,” you grinned, tapping his thigh as you dismounted from his waist, “I’m gonna go take a shower, you coming with me, Roo?”
Bradley grinned, raising his dark eyebrow at you as he watched you walk towards the bedroom door.
“I wouldn’t miss it.”
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