#bradley rooster x reader
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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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Bumping Beach Bikini - Rooster
Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw / Wife!Reader
Word Count: 0.8k
This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only
Warnings: Pregnancy; References to Sex/Suggestive Jokes; Flirting; Use of Second Person POV “You,” No Physical Description of Reader (Minus Pregnancy), No Y/N
Summary: Rooster admires the view of his pregnant wife on the beach.
Master List
Bradley had a mental list of the best outfits that he had ever seen you in. There wasn’t a set ranking, just general levels of appreciation.
There was a step above your normal beauty and allure, which mostly included random casual outfits that for whatever reason just got him going. Like the yellow sundress that you wore when it was exceptionally hot out that was super easy to slide his hands under. Or those jean shorts that he loved to slip his hand into the back pocket and give your ass an appreciative squeeze. Or anything of his that you chose to wear.
And the step above those were your slightly dressier outfits that got him even more excited. The backless black dress that you wore out in Vegas when the two of you went out with the Dagger Squad. Or the blue floor length dress that you wore to Maverick and Penny’s wedding that looked like it was literally sculpted for you and your figure. Though he did rip the zipper on that one.
Then there were the more special outfits. Your wedding dress mostly, since he literally burst out into tears the second that he saw you step out in it. The photo of you that he kept in his cockpit was from your wedding day with your veil spread out around you, giving you a completely angelic appearance. And, well, Rooster was also very fond of the matching white lingerie set that you wore underneath it that night too. He did rip that one too though.
And at the very top of the pyramid of his favorite outfits was, of course, your birthday suit. Nothing would ever top that one.
But seeing you in a maternity bikini with one of his Hawaiian shirts wrapped around your shoulders and your baby bump sticking out from between the folds of his shirt—now that was a sight that he ingrained into his mind for the rest of his life. That one really challenged your birthday suit in his mind.
“What?” you laughed, shooting your husband a look as you applied more sunscreen. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“You’re glowing,” Bradley praised, still taking in your beauty.
“With sweat,” you giggled, rubbing in another layer of sunscreen. “It’s only spring and I swear I’m melting already.” You set down the tube of sunscreen and shot your husband a playful look. “You just had to make sure that I was heavily pregnant during the hottest months of the year in Southern California, didn’t you, Bradshaw?”
“Maybe you should have done the math before you begged me to get you pregnant,” Bradley replied, a bit smugly.
“I don’t beg,” you scoffed, shooting him a look. “And besides you offered about fifty times before I let you. If anyone was begging, it was you, Bradley.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Rooster mused, smiling over at you.
There was one rule to surviving with a heavily pregnant wife—it was to let you win. On just about everything. Anything health or safety wise, he would argue back, but Rooster took a rain check on all of the little things. And frankly he got more satisfaction out of seeing you happy than being right.
“Do you have enough water?” Rooster asked, sitting up some more.
You reached over and lifted your giant water bottle into the air. Taking a long sip from it just to prove your point to your husband, you set your water bottle back down on the sand.
“I’m fine. Just need some time to relax,” you replied, leaning back in your seat. “Before it all really sets in.”
Reaching down to pick up your ankle, Rooster started to massage your foot, earning a sigh of relief from your lips. Practically melting into your chair, you turned to your husband with a small, thankful smile as you curled your toes a bit.
“I could get used to this.”
“I’m sure you could,” Rooster chuckled, rubbing the back of your calf.
“There’s only one thing that would make this better.”
“What?”
“Take your shirt off.”
“Mrs. Bradshaw,” Rooster jokingly admonished, causing you to smile wider. “Be careful suggesting that. I knocked up the last woman who asked me to take my shirt off in that tone.”
“I’ll take the risk,” you replied with a smile, rubbing your bump slowly.
“So long as you understand the risk,” Rooster returned with a wink.
“Jesus Christ, the rest of us are trying to eat here,” Phoenix cut in, sounding annoyed.
You and Rooster turned to the other Daggers, Maverick, and Penny, who was hiding an amused smile behind her hand. Maverick turned to Penny with a similar expression, shaking his head. But most of the other Daggers, those who were single anyways, shot both you and Rooster somewhat disgusted looks.
“Sorry,” you called sheepishly, waving to them.
“I’m not,” Rooster replied, reaching up to take his shirt off.
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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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Always Ever Only You Part 27 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Bradley just needs your full attention long enough for you to tell him what's bothering you, and for you to pick out a new car. He comes home from golfing completely unwilling to let you gloss things over, but the conversation veers off course once again when you share some big news.
Warnings: Swearing, smut, oral, pregnancy topics, angst, fluff
Length: 5400 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32
By the eighteenth hole, Bradley was restless. This was taking forever. He somehow forgot how meticulous Bob was when he teed off, adding probably a full hour to the golf outing. He bit his tongue and fought the urge to tell Bob to move things along so he could get back home to you. When he left hours ago, you were still sound asleep, and he was concerned that you weren't feeling well. He was also completely fed up with the way you were avoiding conversation.
He played through the last hole as quickly as he could, and when Jake and Javy suggested grabbing lunch and a beer, he made his excuses and a quick exit. "Next time. And it'll be my treat. But I need to get home."
"Angel's got you so pussy whipped," Jake drawled as if he wasn't currently driving his car around complete with a car seat for Jeremiah.
"Do you ever hear me denying it or complaining about it?" Bradley replied as he set his clubs in the back of the Bronco. "I don't think she's feeling great, and I need her to pick out a new car. I'm getting fed up with her dragging her feet. So she's picking something out today."
Jake laughed as he opened his car door. "Yeah, go try to show her who's the boss, buddy. Good luck with that."
Bradley grunted and rolled his eyes. You and he were a team, and if he had to demand that you hear him out, then he'd get his way about it. He was absolutely unwilling to return to a place where the two of you weren't communicating well. But as he drove back home, he was starting to get more annoyed. He already asked you so many times to tell him what was bothering you and what was on your mind, and each time, you'd burst into tears. He didn't even know what the hell he was doing wrong.
"Fuck," he growled as he pulled into the empty driveway, honestly kind of missing your little shit mobile since it had made you happy. Today was his mom's birthday, and he wanted you to have a good day, but if he pissed you off, then he pissed you off. He was armed with his phone browser open to two options that would just have to be good enough. He left his clubs in the car as he strolled up the walkway to the porch in his white golf pants and floral print shirt. He would just have to get you to accept the fact that a new car needed to happen.
"Sweetheart?" he called out when he opened the door. You and Tramp both came running into the living room. "Hey, we need to talk about some of this shit. Right now."
"Okay, but-"
"Please," he said firmly, holding up one hand. "Just let me say what I need to say, alright?"
You were bouncing on the balls of your bare feet with your hands clasped in front of you. "Okay," you agreed, your voice breathy and light. All he wanted to do was collect you in his arms and smother you in kisses, but he couldn't get sidetracked right now.
Bradley closed the distance to you but planted his hands on his hips. "I love you so much, but something is not working right now. And I'm not going to let us fall apart again. Ever. I want to talk it through right now, and I need you to participate. Starting with your car."
You reached out and let one hand rest on his abs as your lips parted, but he shook his head.
"No, seriously, Baby Girl. I will do anything to make you happy, but could you please, please just pick out a car? I don't like leaving you home without one." He paused to lean in and kiss your forehead briefly. "I found a brand new, red Honda Civic with all of the same features as your old one. Same transmission, sunroof, everything. And it's on a lot in Chula Vista. We could go look at it right now."
"Bradley, I don't think that's a good idea," you told him, smiling up at him. He felt his resolve fracturing, but he kept going.
"Well, something has to give here! That's the best I can come up with. Unless... you want to go with the blue one I found online which is exactly the same as the one that I totaled. Same model year and everything, but it's in Maine. If you really want it, we can fly there and drive it back. I already talked to the owner about the price."
"Bradley, I don't want that one either."
He tipped his head back in frustration as your hand caressed him through his shirt. "For the love of god, Sweetheart, I am trying my best here. And you're giving me nothing. And it's not just the car," he snapped as he met your gaze again, eyes wide looking up at him. "You yelled at me for buying the wrong coffee when I thought they just changed the label, and you fell asleep while we were mid conversation. And I hurt you when we were having sex, but you wouldn't even talk about it afterwards. I need you to tell me if I'm not doing it for you, because I don't want to keep fucking this up!"
"You're not fucking anything up," you promised quietly. "You're not, Roo."
He examined your pretty, eager face and shrugged. "Then just tell me what's going on here."
You bit your lip and closed the remaining inches between your body and his, and then you smiled up at him so brilliantly, his breath caught in his lungs. As you carefully wrapped your arms around his waist, you said, "I'm pregnant."
He was frozen in time and space, barely able to process your words as his belly swooped and his heart raced. Pregnant. You were pregnant? He swallowed hard as he let his forehead rest against yours, trying to formulate words.
"Baby Girl, are you really? Pregnant?"
"Yes," you whispered, and Bradley had you in his arms, making you squeal as he lifted you up in the air.
"You're pregnant?" he asked again, beaming at you as you wrapped your legs and arms around him.
"I'm pregnant!"
"Holy shit!" he nearly screamed as you buried your face in his neck and laughed in delight. "Holy shit! You're pregnant!"
He didn't know what to do with himself as he held you tight against him, imagining a baby in your arms. His baby. And your baby. Something the two of you had been dreaming about for so long. The one thing he'd had to make himself understand he didn't need at the cost of a happy marriage, but that he'd still yearned for.
Your happy laughter and whispered words had his feet moving toward the bedroom. "You're going to be a dad, Roo."
He set you down on the bed, covering your body with his large one, careful not to hurt you as your sweet lips met his. "I love you so much," he murmured between kisses that left him breathless. "I fucking adore you, Sweetheart."
You whimpered as he slowly let his hand drift down your body before inching your shirt up and running his knuckles gently along your belly. He kissed you hard on the lips one last him before easing his body down lower, kissing your sternum on his way to your belly button. He thought about the future as he said, "And I adore you, too."
-----------------------
You ran your fingers lazily through your husband's soft curls as his big hand rested on the middle of your belly next to his cheek. He was a little sweaty and still wearing his golf clothes, but everything was just perfect. The edge of his mustache tickled your sensitive skin as he whispered, "I love you."
Everything made sense now which made you feel more settled. Honestly, this was much better than the flu that you thought you had, and you giggled. "You'll be the best Daddy, Bradley."
He looked up your body before kissing you a dozen more times all over your abdomen. Calloused fingers stroked your skin as he looked at you with those big, brown eyes you were completely addicted to. "Fuck. I'm so excited. I don't even know what to do with myself," he told you as you sat up and climbed onto his lap. "You took a pregnancy test?"
"Yes. I had one tucked in the back of the bathroom closet that I bought a few months ago," you whispered, brushing his scarred cheek with your lips and the tip of your nose.
"Where's the test?" he asked, scooping you up in his arms again as you told him it was in the bathroom. "I want to see it." You'd managed to pick it up off the floor earlier before examining it for about five minutes with tears in your eyes before you left it on the vanity. And now Bradley set you down, but he kept one arm around you as he picked it up. "Two lines means you're pregnant?" he asked, looking at you in reverence.
You nodded and whispered, "Yes," and then his eyes filled with tears. "Oh, Roo."
"Sweetheart. You're pregnant," he said so softly. "We're going to have a baby."
"Yes," you confirmed as you wiped at his tears with your thumbs while he held onto the test. "I realized when I woke up that my period was late, and then I threw up. A lot. So I took the test."
He sucked in a deep, shaky breath before he kissed your forehead. "Do you remember what today is?"
You let your cheek come to rest on his chest as you said, "Of course I do. It's your mom's birthday. I already bought everything to make filet mignon and crab cakes for dinner. But I guess we ended up with a birthday present?"
With lips pressed to your hair, he muttered, "She would have loved this. She would have loved you almost as much as I do. And she would have been a good grandma."
And now you felt more tears stinging at your eyes. It had been nine months of trying for this moment, which wasn't extravagantly long in the grand scheme of things, but it had been stressful and hard on your marriage at times. Bradley was your teammate, and he'd worked as hard as you had to make sure the two of you made it back to a good place.
"Can we go to the store?" he asked suddenly. "Buy some more pregnancy tests so I can be here when you take one? And get some ginger ale if your stomach is still upset?"
"Yeah," you said with a laugh. "If you want."
"I want," he replied immediately, taking you by the hand and leading you toward the front door. His cheeks were flushed pink, and he was all smiles as he stopped on the driveway next to the Bronco and gasped. "The Bronco, Sweetheart."
"What about it?" you asked as he slowly backed you up until your butt hit the passenger side door. Bradley caged you in with a predatory glint in his eye before kissing your forehead softly. But you felt so calm as his hand slipped underneath your shirt, his thumb rubbing soft circles on your belly.
"A Bronco is the solution. It's so clear now. We'll swing by the Ford dealer after the drug store. And then we can drive home in two separate Broncos so you can take the tests. And then we can make my mom's birthday dinner."
Your lips parted, but no words came out, and Bradley dipped his head down to kiss you. He was smiling against your lips as his arms snaked around you. "Another Bronco?" you whispered. "You think?"
"Mmhmm," he hummed as his lips skimmed your cheek. "A lot more indestructible than your old thing. I'm not going to let our baby ride around in a little compact car death trap on wheels. Let's get a second Bronco."
"It wasn't that bad," you muttered, only slightly offended as you recalled the gigantic hole that he'd put in the bottom of your car with his foot. "Are you sure you don't just want to have access to drive two Broncos instead of one?"
Bradley leaned on one forearm against the door, still stroking your belly with his thumb and keeping you calm. "We need something big enough for a car seat to fit comfortably. If you don't want a Bronco, I think you should still consider another SUV. Preferably one I can actually fit in."
You looked up at his handsome and eager face, excitement bubbling under the surface of his expression. He was clearly as excited as you were about the positive test, and he just wanted you to be happy. Hell, he'd offered to drive a car back from Maine with you barely an hour ago. Before he even knew you were pregnant. You were still having a hard time wrapping your mind around it yourself.
Tears stung your eyes, and Bradley's smile faltered a little bit. "Listen," he whispered, kissing your forehead. "Anything you want to drive, okay? Anything you want. But I think we need to look at the safety ratings and all that shit if you really want a compact car again."
"I don't want a compact car again," you hiccupped. "I was trying to tell you that earlier. We can go look at Broncos. I'm just so emotional. I can't seem to control it. But at least I know where it's coming from now."
Bradley smiled as he pulled you away from the door before opening it, and then he buckled you in. "It's coming from the little Bradshaw bun in your oven, and I couldn't be happier."
-----------------------------
Even the brief walk around to the driver's side door felt like too much, because Bradley didn't want to stop touching you. As soon as he could, he slipped his hand in yours once again and smiled at you before backing out of the driveway. He'd been ready for this for a long time. He knew he'd always been a step ahead of you; his desire to date you exclusively startled you at first, but he knew pretty early on that you'd be wearing his mom's ring eventually. He was ready for this day before you were, too, but he had tried his best not to rush you here. As soon as you told him you stopped taking your birth control back in November, he was ready for you to be knocked up the next day.
But now you were, and he was looking forward to all of it. The arguments had been worth it. The way he fucked things up before had been worth it, because both of you worked hard to fix things which told him you were unbeatable.
"We're going to be awesome parents," he said, making you laugh as he parked at the pharmacy. When you tried to climb out your door, Bradley tugged on your hand and whispered, "Come over here. I don't want to stop touching you. I don't want to let go of you."
You willingly crawled onto his lap and let your cheek come to rest on his shoulder. "Don't let go of me."
"I won't," he promised, stroking your belly again like he just couldn't help himself. "Hey, should we call your parents this weekend and tell them the news?"
You pulled a few inches away from him with a little pout and shook your head. "I think it's too early, Bradley."
"Oh. Right," he replied, suddenly embarrassed that he wasn't sure about all of the timelines and exactly what everything meant.
"You know," you added softly. "In case something... happens to the baby. It's still so early. There's still a good chance that something could go wrong."
Bradley's body felt like it was sent into a freefall just thinking about anything happening to either of you. He held you tighter and kissed you a little rougher than he meant to, making you moan as he shook his head. "No. Don't say that." His voice was thick with emotion as he squeezed his eyes closed. "Don't say that, Baby Girl."
"Okay," you whispered, taking his face in both of your hands and caressing him with your soft and steady fingers. "I won't say it again." You kissed his lips and his scars as you pushed your fingers gently back through his hair which was probably already a mess from golfing earlier. But the more you touched him, the better he felt, and he took a few deep breaths as you said, "But I'm already so attached right now that it's a little scary. Already attached to the baby and the idea of you being a daddy."
"I am too," he promised as he opened his eyes to see you so close to him. "I'm so ready for this."
You kissed him one more time as you whispered, "I love you." And then you led him inside as he remembered all the times he played with Jeremiah and changed his diapers and read him books. Oh shit, he was so excited to have it for himself, he scooped up at least ten pregnancy tests while you laughed and chased him up to the registers.
"Do you think that's enough?" you asked sarcastically as he leaned down to kiss the top of your head.
He picked some bottles of ginger ale out of the small refrigerator case next to the register as he said, "Listen, I missed the one from this morning, so you owe me. Just humor me, okay? I want to watch those little lines show up with my own eyes."
As he reached into his pocket for his wallet to pay for the collection of tests, he realized he was still wearing his golf clothes and shoes. In all of his excitement, he'd forgotten to change. And now he was getting excited all over again as he inserted his credit card and looked at you. Should he get you right home to take the pregnancy tests? Take you to bed and show you how attached he was, too? Visit the Ford dealer?
He groaned, knowing the Ford dealer was going to win out since he actually had your attention on the new car right now. "Here," he told you, handing you the bag as he buckled you back in again. "Drink one of the bottles so you'll have enough pee for the tests while I drive us to look at the new Broncos. Start thinking about what color you want."
"Red," you replied immediately. "It's what I had before, plus it's your favorite color."
"Fuck," Bradley practically whined, lacing his fingers with yours. "A hot, pregnant wife, a baby on the way, and two Broncos in the driveway? This might be the best day of my life so far. I don't know how much more I can handle here."
You laughed as he kissed you all over your face, resting his hand gently against your belly through your shirt. His to-do list was growing by the minute, and he was a little alarmed that his heart rate was elevated with no signs of slowing down, but every time he looked at your face he said, "I love you."
------------------------------
"It's just butter, Bradley," you said as you watched him trying his best to help you cook Carole's birthday dinner. "How are you this bad at melting butter?"
He shot you a playful glare before moving to stand behind you at the stove, wrapping his arms around you so that his hands were resting on your belly. "I'll just watch the pro then."
You shook your head, still a little startled by everything that happened today. An hour at the Ford dealership and the two of you left hand in hand after paying a deposit for the red Bronco that they were going to acquire for you from a dealer in northern California. Then you came home and took ten more pregnancy tests while Bradley sat in the bathroom with you, shooting you his big, soppy brown eyes filled with tears while he smiled. They were all positive, and they were all still lined up on the vanity, and you were pretty sure he kept occasionally sneaking off to look at them.
As you turned the crab cakes over in your cast iron pan, you whispered, "I feel like your mom is watching over us somehow."
"Oh, I have no doubt," he replied immediately, holding you a little tighter and nudging your sore breasts. "Goose, too. But especially her, on her birthday. She'd have been a mess over this news."
You set the spatula down and had to close your eyes. Your hormones were all over the place, and this was the thing that sent you immediately into a fit of body wracking sobs. "What's wrong?" Bradley asked with concern, turning you around and inspecting your hands. "Did you burn yourself?"
"No," you wailed. "I'm just so happy, but it's not fair that your parents aren't here. Like I can deal with the fact that I never got to meet them, but this is so not fair! And I'm sorry, but I can't control my emotions at all."
He pulled you closer and let you cry, kissing your ear and whispering that everything was going to be okay. As you got your breathing under control, he said, "If you're this emotional at like five and a half weeks, I guess I better buckle in for the ride."
You glared up at him before he leaned down to kiss your tears away with a smile, and you let him take the brownies out of the oven and load a plate with dinner. With your hand held in his, Bradley carried the meal to the table, but he led you to the piano instead of one of the chairs.
"Remember how to play it?" he asked softly as he took a seat and patted the bench next to him. You needed a short tutorial, but he was as patient as ever as he reminded you of the notes. Then you helped him play and sing Happy Birthday to Carole even though it wasn't perfect, and at the end he whispered, "Thanks, mom. Let's go eat, Baby Girl."
You sat perched on his lap like always, mouth watering as you looked at the steak and crab cakes. Everything looked amazing, and you were starving. "How does it taste?" you asked as Bradley took three bites of dinner in rapid succession.
"Fucking incredible," he replied as you cut yourself a piece of steak. It was buttery and delicious, and it practically melted in your mouth. You moaned as you tried the crab cakes, and they were pretty good, too. About halfway through the meal your stomach lurched, and you turned to look at Bradley.
He smiled at you as you shook your head and said, "Oh no." You practically fell off of his lap as you ran for the hallway bathroom, barely making it in time to empty the contents of your stomach into the toilet. He was right behind you, rubbing your back as you sat down hard on the floor and caught your breath.
"This is a pregnancy thing, right?" he asked softly. "Morning sickness?"
You nodded. "I think so. I was going to call my doctor on Monday anyway and tell her about my positive tests, but I'll tell her about this, too."
Bradley collected you in his arms and asked, "Are you hungry?"
"Starving," you whined, letting your forehead come to rest against his sternum.
"I have an idea," he replied. A few minutes later, you were sitting on the couch with a plate of crackers smeared with peanut butter in your hand and the trash can on the floor in front of you. Bradley finished eating the plate of Carole's birthday dinner, and now he was working on cleaning up the kitchen while he dug into the tray of brownies. You gingerly bit into one of the crackers, and your stomach growled but didn't lurch. So you kept going.
It took you an hour, but you finished the whole plate as you thought about how things would change around here with a baby involved. Nothing seemed too startling though, probably because you'd been subconsciously looking forward to this for such a long time. You knew Bradley was as well. And the way he came out to check on you several times as he cleaned up the house had you swooning over your husband a little bit.
You shared the last cracker with Tramp and then stood to take your plate to the kitchen where Bradley was leaning on the island looking at his phone. "What are you doing?" you asked him.
He looked up at you and blushed a little bit. "Looking at crib bedding," he replied, and you practically tossed the plate at the sink before hurrying to his arms. "You feeling better?"
You nodded. "Crib bedding?" You were instantly melting into his touch.
"Yeah. I thought we could do airplanes?"
You whimpered against his muscular chest as he pocketed his phone. "Yes, Roo, we can do airplanes."
He rubbed your back as you tucked your hands up inside the golf shirt he had been wearing all day and let your fingers skim along his abs. "I'm just really excited about this," he said, voice full of emotion. "All the baby stuff. And a nursery. I was already thinking about finishing the attic, but now we should definitely do it so your parents can stay up there when they visit their grandchild. And we can get those convertible car seats for both Broncos. And we should probably start looking at daycares before the baby is born. Like the really good daycares, you know?"
"Oh fuck," you moaned as you looked up at him. "Bradley. You're incredible." You rubbed yourself against the fly of his white pants, and both of his eyebrows shot up.
"You want to?" he rasped, and you started pulling him toward the bedroom. "Last time we had sex, I hurt you, Sweetheart. I don't want to do that again."
"You won't," you promised as you tugged off his shirt. "You won't, because I know what's going on now."
He nodded and reached for his pants zipper as you quickly got yourself undressed and climbed into bed. Bradley watched you as he struggled with his shoes and socks before he could take his pants off, and the two of you shared a laugh. Then you bit your lip as his hard cock sprung free, practically vibrating with anticipation as he plopped down on the bed on his back.
"Come here," he whispered, but when you started to straddle his hips, he shook his head. "No. Up here." You leaned down to kiss him, and he welcomed you with a smile on his face, but after his tongue tangled with yours he broke the kiss. "I want you to sit on my face."
"Oh," you gasped as he reached for your butt and pulled you up until you were straddling his neck. Then his mouth was on you, and you were reaching for the headboard with one hand as your fingers grasped Bradley's curls with the other. He was so gentle, kissing up and down your most intimate parts before separating you with his nose. "Oh my god," you whined as he nudged your clit and looked up at you before starting to suck.
You were already pulsing around nothing, your fingernails scraping along his scalp as you rolled your hips gently against his mouth. Bradley licked you up and back before sucking gently again. The more aroused you got, the more your boobs hurt, but it wasn't as bad as last time. Not when his mouth was doing everything to make you wetter as he gently ran his hands along the backs of your thighs and your butt.
It would have come as no surprise to you if he told you that you were dripping wet now as you whispered, "I want your cock."
Bradley practically growled as he released you, his mouth glistening as he licked his lips. "Only if I'm not going to hurt you," he reiterated, voice deep and gravelly as you moved further down his body. "Stop me if I am."
You lifted his length and slipped him slowly inside you as he grunted and propped himself up on one hand. "Feels good," you promised him as you pushed and pushed until he was fully seated. His eyes were big pools as he hesitated a bit before kissing the valley between your breasts, his lips feather light. And that was exactly what you needed as he brought his other hand up to your belly.
"I love you," he whispered, letting his lips barely caress your nipple as you rocked slowly. "I love you so much, Sweetheart."
When his tongue grazed your breast, you whined for more, so he took your nipple between his lips. Instead of sucking, he let his tongue drift along lazily as you barely rocked your hips backward and forward, playing with his hair. "I love you, Daddy," you told him as you smirked.
He looked up at you as he released your breast and gently started to lick your left one as you cupped his cheek. Between kisses and soft nuzzles, Bradley poured his heart out to you as you enjoyed the feel of him, thick and delicious inside you.
"I'll take care of both of you. Always. I'm going to love you forever. I'll never stop. You're perfect. So fucking perfect. I can't get enough. I can't wait for everything."
You were barely moving on his cock when you came hard, your nipples wet to the cool air from his saliva and your fingers gripping his hair. "Bradley. Bradley. Bradley," you panted, squeezing him so tight as you pulsed around him.
He grunted, watching your face as he let himself come undone, too. He was still breathing heavily as he leaned back against the pillows, and you sank down on top of him. "I didn't hurt you?"
"Not at all," you promised. "My breasts are so tender, but that felt amazing."
"Got it," he whispered, nodding as he wrapped his arms around you. Very slowly you let your body press to his, careful to get into a position that didn't make you want to wince. "I can be extra gentle," he promised. "I can be anything you need. Anything either of you need."
A chill rippled through your body at his words, because you knew they were true. You leaned up and looked at his handsome face, cheeks flushed and lips softly parted. When you kissed him, he tasted like you. His softening cock was still inside you, but neither of you made any move to get cleaned up quite yet.
"You can't stop touching me, can you?"
"I can, Sweetheart. I just don't want to," he replied softly from where he had his face buried against your neck. "Hey, we should go to bed early since you've been so tired. Maybe the baby needs the extra sleep."
"Oh," you gasped, pulling back and examining his face. "Early." You figured you had to be between five and six weeks pregnant, but the last time you had your period, it had come early.
"What?"
Your mind was swirling as you did the math, and a smile broke out on your face.
"What?" he asked again, looking at you in puzzlement.
If your period had been early, then you were probably only still ovulating for the very first day that Bradley had been home from his special mission. You started laughing as you kissed him over and over again before rolling onto your back and cracking up.
"Tell me," he said, rolling to his side next to you as he started laughing, too.
"Oh my god, Roo," you wheezed. "I think you got me pregnant when you totaled my car."
--------------------------
A BABY!! A BRADSHAW BUN IN THE OVEN! MOM AND DAD! Do you want to read more of the pregnancy adventure? I hope so. The fact that this has been planned out for the past year is just wild to me, and I'm so happy I got to share it with you. Thanks for everything @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 28
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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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Her Seat
Bradley's girl had her Seat. It was his lap.
Warnings: smut, nipple play, fingering, cockwarming, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, cum eating, unprotected sex, she is Bradley's pillow princess, marking
The movie was playing, but neither of them were paying much attention. Bradley's attention was focused on her. He held her, his large hands holding her ass as he stared at her.
Sat on his lap, she wrapped her arms around his neck and played with the short hairs at the back of his neck.
The movie, something front the 90's, was long forgotten as he touched her. His hands were warm against her ass and he slipped his hands beneath her gym shorts.
A smile played on his lips, his moustache twitching up ever so slightly.
She looked so perfect sitting on him, her smaller frame on his larger one. They were chest to and Bradley leaned forward to kiss her, his large hands squeezing the flesh of her ass.
She knew why he was called Rooster, could feel why he was called Rooster pressed against her gym shorts. She moved against it and he gripped her tighter, stilling her.
Bradley was in charge and she loved it.
He pulled down her gym shorts and dropped them onto the floor, leaving her in her shirt, one of Bradley's, and her underwear. His hands returned to her ass, fingers slipping between the waistband of her panties.
"No bra?" He asked as she pressed her forehead to his.
She shook her head. "No bra," he confirmed, pulling her chest away from his own. He could see her nipples now, but it was a wonder he didn't feel them before.
"I love you," he said, capturing her lips with his own before she could answer. His hands travelled up under her shirt, calloused fingers rough against her back.
She arched her back towards him and let out a whine. Anything Bradley did was enough to get her whining for him. Just his skin against her own was enough.
Bradley was like nobody she had ever been with before. When it came to sex, she was his priority. He didn't care how long it took, he'd have her cumming on his face and fingers before he fucked her, his cock splitting her open.
He had barely touched her and she was already a mess for him, but she always was. "Can I?" He whispered against her lips, raising her shirt slightly. She nodded and lifted her arms, allowing him to pull her shirt off completely. Bradley dropped it onto the floor beside her shirts.
He kissed the top of her breasts while she ran her hands through his hair, whining and mewling. Even that was almost enough to push her over the edge, and she hadn't him him yet.
When she felt him again, pressed against her thigh, she wiggled her hips against him. This time, Bradley let her. He kissed down the flesh of her right tit until his lips met her nipple. Instantly, he brought it into his mouth. He let our a cry, throwing her head back. Bradley kept a hold of her, keeping her in his lap.
Her hips moved feverishly against him and Bradley pulled away from her breasts. His eyes locked onto hers as she pulled one hand from behind her back and travelled down to her cunt.
"You're soaked," he whispered, feeling her through her panties. She bucked her hips against his large hand and Bradley smirked.
Slowly, he peeled her panties away from her body and added them to the ever growing pile of clothes. When her cunt hit the cold hair she was desperately searching for him, begging him for some sort of friction.
"I've got you, pretty girl," he said as he brought his fingers back to her folds. He ran his fingers through them, feeling just how wet she was. When his fingers bumped against her clit, she let out an animalistic, inhuman noise.
Bradley eased his fingers into her. Every time they had sex, he had to ease himself into her. His fingers were so thick and so large, he did it one at a time, using her wetness as a lubricant. He pumped his finger in and out of her slowly, languidly, taking his sweet time with her.
Two fingers were already a stretch. But Bradley knew he needed one more to properly stretch her out. "So good f' me," he whispered as she rode his fingers, her forehead against his shoulder.
"Ready for one more, pretty girl?" He asked and she nodded. But Bradley wasn't going to do anything, not until she verbalised what she wanted.
When she choked out a 'yes', he eased a third finger into her. She cried out, stilling her hips and gripping his shoulders. He whispered sweetly in her ear, helping her to ease herself down. "So good," he said and kissed her head sweetly.
Every movement with three of his thick fingers inside of her had her shuddering. Bradley hit all the right spots inside of her, until she was shaking as she came, clenching around her fingers. "That's it," he praised, his cock straining against his trousers. "So fucking good."
He pulled out slowly and brought his cum covered fingers up to his lips. Bradley licked them clean. As soon as they were, he gripped her chin and pulled her closer, kissing her. At the taste of herself on his lips, in his moustache, she grinned. She cupped his face as she pulled away and began kissing down his neck.
Bradley loved to leave his mark on her, love to leave dark bruises down her neck so that everybody knew who she belonged to. But he loved it when she marked it, laying her claim on him.
Bradley freed himself from his trousers. He held himself as he helped her to sink down onto his cock. She let our a whine as she stretched around him, a sound he could have listened to on repeat for the rest of his life.
She tried to move, but Bradley held her still. "Hang on, Pretty girl," he said and quickly kissed her. "Just sit here with me."
So she sat there, incredibly full of him. She whined as she leaned forward, her head against his chest. Bradley kissed her, wrapped his arms around her as he held her tight.
His attention went back to the movie they had forgotten about. She cried out in desperation, desperate for his attention.
He didn't give it to her, not right away. Every time he shifted slightly she cried out, but he kept her on the tantalising edge of pleasure.
Bradley did everything but fuck her. He held her so sweetly, kissed her softly and played with the ends of her hair. But then his hands slid down to her ass and she couldn't hide her excitement.
"You ready, Pretty girl?"
Desperately, she nodded her head. Bradley kept a tight hold of her as he bucked his hips towards her, fucking up into her. He snapped his hips towards her in quick thrusts as she cried out, his name leaving her lips again and again.
His breathing deepened and Bradley gripped her tighter, sure to leave bruising handprints. Handprints she would wear with pride. His pretty girl didn't have to do anything, not while he was taking care of her.
His name tumbling from her lips turned into incoherent babbling as she got closer and closer. She hissed out a string of curses, tears springing to her eyes as Bradley pushed her over for the second time.
His thrusts had grown slow. They weren't exactly sloppy, but they were slower, mindful of her overstimulated cried.
He pulled out, shooting his cum onto her stomach. As Bradley placed her on the sofa beside him, she scooped some of the cum from her stomach onto her finger. She placed it in her mouth and sucked it off, all while staring at him.
Fuck, he wanted to run a bath for her, but now he was ready to go again.
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b.b. | Emergency contact
Summary: “I changed my emergency contact, just so you know.”
Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x f!reader
Warnings: Angst, mention of multiple accidents, mention of break-up, probably inexact medical and american army facts, deaths, grief, mention of trauma/PTSD, mention of food
Word Count: 4.7k
Author note: y/n = your name; y/s/n = your sister's name. Enjoy!
Masterlist
Maverick saw her first.
Hair all over her face. Cloudy eyes. Blank cheeks. Y/N looked even worse than what he had thought and considering the situation, that was perhaps to be expected. He could only imagine the call she had gotten when maybe she was on her way home after work. The kind of call that just say, “your loved one is at the hospital”. They could be dead already. They could be alive for now, but dead before she’d make it there…
Maverick did not know her personally. He knew, however, who she was and who she had been to Bradley. He had heard what had happened at that time; even if his godson had not gone into much details - he wasn’t exactly one to confide about his love life. Being aware of her story, he felt like this moment would be exactly like any of his own PTSD - reliving your worst nightmare. He had known from the moment the nurse had told him he was not family - Y/N was - that whenever she would show up, he needed to be there for her.
Getting up from the seat in which he had been waiting for some times now, he called out her name. Her eyes scanned the whole room before landing on him. She had never seen him other than in Bradley’s old photobooks, but she recognized him immediately. Though Maverick was now a couple of years older, he looked as in the pictures. It relieved her to see him there; it was partly because he did not look like someone who was going to have to bury his godson any time soon. Of course, it also startled her. The last time she had talked to Bradley, many (many) years ago, his resentment against Maverick was consuming him. She guessed they had finally worked things out.
“We were testing new materials,” Maverick explained as he sat her up in the seat next to his. Though her cheeks were slowly regaining colour, she was still trembling like the leaves of a tree caught in the wind. Perhaps it was being in this ER room again, in the exact same hospital, after all this time. Perhaps it was also the adrenaline wearing off. “Bradley’s jet had an issue and he had to extract. He landed quite roughly though. His left leg is pretty messed up.”
Y/N stayed silent, staring at him, and Maverick let her be. Of course, she had imagined him to be dead. Though she had just heard the contrary, her brain took a couple of seconds to work everything out. “So, he will be alright?”
He nodded slowly and Y/N let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. She was selfishly relieved. She wouldn’t have to decide on the last clothes he would wear. She wouldn’t have to be handed his flag and colors. She wouldn’t have to watch his coffin buried six feet deep. She wouldn’t have to read over and over that stupid phrase written in the marble of this grave. She wouldn’t have to get through this again.
She had done that too much for her own lifetime already.
“Doctor, this is Miss Y/L/N”.
Maverick’s hand on her shoulder made Y/N surface out of her thoughts. She was quick to hop onto her feet and greet the surgeon that had just joined them with a nod. She braced herself for whatever news he had to give - couldn’t be that bad, Bradley was alive after all - and when it didn’t come, she presumed from his look that he was silently waiting for Maverick to go. She understood now that she was the only one listed as his emergency contact.
“He can stay, he is family.”
The surgeon nodded and started to explain in a more complex manner what Maverick had already told her before. Bradley would be immobilised for a couple of weeks, waiting for the bruise in his knee to resolve before he could undergo surgery. After that he would still need to have Physical Therapy before being cleared.
“How long until- how long ‘till he can go back to flying?” Y/N asked, nervously.
“A few months, six at most.” At her side, it was Maverick’s time to let out a shaky breath. He already knew it was going to be difficult to keep Bradley off the tarmac for this long. “He is awake now, if you want to visit.”
After they thanked him, Y/N heard Maverick turning to her - only a few seconds away to say what she assumed to be a “you go first” - and she stayed frozen on her spot, not able to make a move as she finally understood she could be seeing Bradley again – it had never crossed her mind before. There was no way she was facing a very much alive Bradley today. Not today, nor any time soon.
“You go, I’ll handle the paperwork.”
Maverick knew better than to say a thing; he only nodded, thanking her quietly. He knew she would most likely be gone when he would be back. He didn’t blame her though.
This was just a tragic story.
Bradley saw her first.
He had been at the beach near Penny’s bar probably a thousand times since he last spoke to her, all these years ago. Yet, never had he seen her there.
Watching her, sat on an enormous beach towel, watching Henry - or at least he guessed it was Henry - playing in the sand a few feet away, he could only feel guilty for what he had put her through a month ago. The call from the military hospital, the minimal information given, the drive alone, fear clenching her stomach, the parking lot where she could’ve vomited her gut out, the hospital smell. It must have been like reliving her worst nightmare. Except this time there was no tragic ending...
He had changed his emergency contact as soon as the painkiller had permitted him to think straight. To be honest, after all those years, he had forgotten she was even mentioned in his file. They had never been married and therefore had never been officially together for the Navy. He really thought no one was his emergency contact; it only felt natural having no family of his own. No parent. No wife. No kid. Now, he only had his godfather - they had reconnected a couple of years ago.
He was only relieved this had happened when Maverick was here, that someone was able to be by her side and that this time, she didn’t have to live it all alone.
Though he wanted to, Bradley did not go and apologize. He imposed so much on her already. Breaking her heart. Letting her go. Probably scaring the hell out of her. No, he definitely had done enough already.
He was mentally wishing her all the best from afar, ready to turn back to the bar, when the little boy at her side made his heart stopped. One of his tiny fingers was pointing in his direction and it took only what seemed to be a second for Y/N to turn around as well, her eyes landing on him. Against all odds, she waved shyly in his direction, which made Henry - who he had only met when he was still a couple of days old - waved at him as well.
Awkwardly, Bradley waved back and decided that at this point, he couldn’t just turn around and leave. The walk to their spot was pure torture with his messed-up knee for which he had yet to undergo surgery.
“You are the guy in the wedding picture in the hallway,” Henry said once Bradley was to their level. Bradley frowned, not sure what to answer to this. Of course, he understood he was talking about Y/S/N’s wedding, though he didn’t quite understand how this little guy would have recognized him in the hundred guests that must appear on the pictures.
“There is a picture in the hallway,” Y/N simply answered, before explaining to Henry that the polite way to greet someone was to say hello first.
Bradley only nodded, preferring to stay silent as he wasn’t really sure what to say now that he was there.
“How is your knee?”
“Well, could be better, I guess?” Bradley shrugged and Y/N nodded, a serious expression on her face. He hadn’t been in the best of mood due to his injury, and he realized too late this tone wasn’t the friendliest. To make sure she didn’t take it personally, he was quick to continue: “I wanted to say-”
“It’s okay,” She cut him off; she couldn’t be sure what he was thinking, yet she wanted to spare them both the struggle of his thanks. She hadn’t done him a favour running to his side at the first call. In fact, she hadn’t really thought anything, coming running blindly to the hospital as the nurse on the phone told her he had an accident. Maybe it was selfish of her, maybe this time she had thought she could save someone she knew.
“No, I don’t think it really is…” He sighed. “I changed my emergency contact, just so you know.”
“Thanks.”
Some more silence.
Bradley’s hands had become even sweatier, and it wasn’t due to the weather of the first days of spring. This whole situation was literally making him so uncomfortable. It was like walking on eggshell; he didn’t want to break her even more.
“I very am sorry.”
Bradley wasn’t sure what he was really sorry for. This wasn’t just for the scare, last month. It was also for breaking her heart, leaving her the second he had his dream job - like they couldn’t have made it work, not being around when Y/S/N and her husband died in that horrible car crash, him only sending flowers for the funerals, him not calling to make sure Y/N was surviving - how could he have, when he was the one leaving her to live his dream life and she was now the legal guardian of her six-months-old nephew at thirty something.
Y/N only stared at him, trying to see through him like she used to. He was sincere - she knew that much.
“I know.”
It had been a little more than three months when Bradley saw her again.
He had just completed yet another session of physical therapy; though it had been ten weeks since he had surgery and he didn’t need crutches to walk any longer, he still had not recovered the totally of his knee motion. Maverick was driving him twice a week to the military hospital to have PT; with his messed up left knee, Bradley couldn’t drive his manual Bronco.
While he was patiently waiting for the secretary to hung up the phone to get his next appointment scheduled, his eyes landed on a familiar face in the ER waiting room. She was here yet again, eyes puffy and red, breathe short and hair all over the place.
“Y/N?”
Hearing her name, she jumped from her seat, all senses on alert. Her eyes scanned the room urgently before stopping on Bradley. Understanding it was him calling her name, the tears she was holding back started flowing on her cheeks again. His heart started to pound furiously in his chest as the only thought that passed his mind was that something terrible had happened. Again.
“Hey, hey,” he said once he had walked - not so easily - to her. Instinctively, she wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his white T-shirt. She was grabbing him as if he was a lifebuoy. “What happened?”
As her only answer, her body broke into violent sobs. Bradley kept her close, stroking her hair gently, trying to soothe. It took what seemed to be like a couple of minutes for her to at least remember to breath and a couple more for her to be able to speak multiple words in a row. This time, Bradley held her through it all.
“Henry fell down the swing and the school called and- and-” Some more sobs rocked her body and Bradley only held her tighter, heart swelling of seeing her in this state. She must have had the scare of her life. Again.
“It’s okay,” Bradley reassured her. “Is he with a doctor now?”
She nodded, more tears falling down her cheeks. “He has a bad cut on his forehead,” sob, “needed stitches,” sob, “I couldn’t - I couldn’t” stay with him, Bradley understood even if she didn’t finish her sentence. “Shouldn’t see me like that.”
“It’s okay.”
Y/N was still grabbing his T-shirt like she would drown had she ever let go, so he held her a little more, wondering how long she had been in the ER waiting room, clearly in utter panic.
“Breathe with me,” he said. She looked up at him and gently, he dried off her tears. For one split second, he was brought back to that night, what felt like a hundred of years ago. He had promised her everything would be okay. How wrong had he been…
If anything, this was a very bad remake of their break-up.
“He is okay now, more fear than harm.” Y/N nodded, trying to gain back her composure. “You know, somebody told me one day that scars actually made you look pretty badass,” he pointed to his own scars on his chin and cheeks. “It will be a hit with girls and boys for sure.”
“I don’t remember saying that,” she finally smiled. There she is, he thought.
“Miss Y/L/N?” Y/N let go of him to turn to the doctor he understood was taking care of Henry. “We are all done. A nurse is doing his bandage right now. It will need to be redone once a day for a week and we’ll see him again in ten days to remove his stitches.”
Y/N squeezed the hand Bradley didn’t realize she was holding. She was relieved and still, she did not move when the doctor went away.
“You’ve got an automatic, right?” This made Y/N turned back to Bradley in surprise. He had that small smirk on his lips that she could recognize anywhere. The one that he offered when he had a surprise for her. Whatever it was a bath after an extremely long day or to watch Love Actually for the second night in a row when she was on her period. All she had to do back then was to follow his lead, she knew he would take care of her. The truth was, she would have followed him anywhere.
And even after all those years, she still trusted him.
“You do the paperwork, I’ll get him?” Y/N nodded slightly, muttering a quiet thank you. After yet another nod to make sure she was okay, Bradley finally let go of her hand and went to get Henry. On his way, he texted Mav to let him know he did not require a lift up from the hospital anymore. Something had come up, but he’ll explain later.
When Bradley entered the examination room, Henry was sat down on the examination table and a nurse was just finishing to put the last blaster on his forehead.
“Hey buddy!” Henry’s eyes face lifted up seeing Bradley on the doorstep, unfazed it was him rather than her aunt who went to get him. “A little birdie told me ice-cream would make it all better.”
“Bradley!”
Against all will, the ice-cream little “date” had become a recurrent event now. It started ten days later when Henry had his stitches gotten taken out - Y/N asked if she could pick him up after PT to return him the favour. Then, it was a week or so later, for the end of the school year. Then again, on regular occurrence during the summer - sometimes with their friends and family. Some other times, just the three of them.
Today was the first day of the new school year, Henry’s first day of 1st grade. It also was six months now that Bradley had been in contact again with Y/N. Still a couple of weeks until he could get cleared for flying again. A couple of weeks until he would be deployed somewhere on this planet.
And Bradley, picking up Henry from school with ice-cream for celebration, wasn’t really sure how to feel about it; he had decided to elude the matter for now.
“Hey buddy!”
Bradley watched the little guy through his reversing mirror to make sure he was putting his seatbelt on before driving off. He and Y/N had planned to meet up at the beach, once she would have finished work.
On the way there, Henry told him all about Mrs Simpson, his new teacher; how he got lucky to be paired with his best friend, Tom in the class room, and how sure he was that, by Christmas, he would be able to read so they could share reading of his bedtime stories: “You’ll read Daddy Pig’ part and I’ll read Peppa Pig’ part, okay?”
Yes, after all, Bradley definitively did not want to think of his future deployment; he would rather just stay here, in this moment in times.
After taking a swim and perfecting Henry’s swimming techniques (Bradley had taught him how to swim during the summer in between two ice-cream dates), Bradley and Henry were in the middle of sandcastles building contest when Y/N finally arrived.
Bradley sat on the beach towel, Y/N at his side, as Henry excitingly told them about his day and most importantly, all the painting materials they had in his class and that he couldn’t wait to test. The sun was starting to decline in the distance, bathing them in its last warm sunshine. A soft breeze was tenderly blowing his hair. Y/N, with Henry on her knees, was sharing a story of her sister’s first day of ‘big girl’ school and her nephew had a million questions about his mom.
Like every time the subject was brought up in his presence, Bradley tried to add as much details as he remembered of Y/S/N. It was some of his best childhood memories after his dad died: Maverick and his mom making sure his dad’s memory was still alive. He hoped it would be the same for Henry.
“You know what our family tradition was to celebrate the first day of school year?” Henry shook his head no. “Pizza night!”
Bradley laughed as the boy’s face lighted up; he was quick to be on his feet and gather his stuff to get back to the car - it was probably the first time ever Henry would agree to leave the beach without making a fuss.
Y/N helped Bradley to get up - even if he had told her multiple times before that his knee was perfectly fine, she had still treated him as if he would fall down any time. He was attending his last physical therapy sessions by now and he had already started physical training at the base. In a few weeks, he would have to have a medical examination to confirm he could fly again; his accident was well behind him at this point.
Folding the beach towel together, Y/N took this as the opportunity to thank him again for picking up Henry that day.
“My pleasure,” Bradley had assured her.
“Seriously, I owe you big time. I couldn’t see myself putting him in afterschool for his first day.”
For a split second, Bradley saw on her face an expression he knew by heart but couldn’t quite recall what it was; the next second, she was continuing to file her bag with Henry’s beach toys. It took a moment more to Bradley to understand what he had just seen: guilt. The same guilt he had observed in his mom eyes when there were things he asked, and she couldn’t simply offer him as a single mom.
“I don’t know if you are being told that enough but Y/N,” He gently grabbed her wrist to make her stop filling her bag and look back at him. “You are doing more than good with Henry.”
“I am trying my best.”
“And you are doing good,” he assured her again, squeezing her hand in his. Realizing what he had just done, he grimaced slightly but Y/N was quick to reassure him and squeezing his hand in return. “Let’s go.”
Later that afternoon, they were sat down at Pizzeria Luigi, waiting for their pizza. Bradley and Henry were having a funny face contest - Bradley copiously winning despite all the kid’s efforts. Y/N was laughing along with them, the small intimacy moment they shared before was long forgotten.
“That’s a cute family you got there,” the waitress smiled as she put their pizza on the table.
“Oh, we are not-” Bradley started, but was quick to be cut by Y/N saying:
“Thanks!”
While Y/N exchanged a few more banalities with the waitress, Bradley looked at her, utterly touched she would consider him family. He was incredibly lucky she even accepted him in his life again, after how much he had hurt her. On the restaurant terrace, surrounded by the last rays of the summer sun, she looked so happy. When she looked at him with her big sparkly eyes and the biggest smile on her lips, his own heart swelled of happiness.
And he swore he could have kissed her. Right here, right now.
“Henry, can you go wash your hands please? Dinner is almost-” Y/N passed a head through the kitchen door framing, looking what Henry was doing in the entrance corridor. “Bradley?”
“Hi,” he greeted her quietly from the doorstep, Henry by his side the doorknob still in his hand.
Bradley stayed silent, not moving, and his eyes wouldn’t quite meet Y/N’s. It wasn’t uncommon for him to come over - he was more and more these past weeks, but he was usually texting first to confirm he wasn’t imposing on them. Him showing up unannounced, at that time of the night, was odd.
“Your hands, please.” The kid passed in front of her on his way to the bathroom and Y/N waited for him to be gone before turning back to Bradley.
He was looking at a picture hooked up on the hall wall. The picture of his sister’s wedding on which her sister, her husband, Bradley and she were all smiling. It has been taken a few weeks before he was accepted into the academy. A few months before her whole world crashed down. He had walked by a multitude of times before, yet today he couldn’t take his eyes off it.
“Bradley?”
Bradley’s attention finally went back to her, a look on his face Y/N couldn’t quite read. It wasn’t the apologetic look he had worn when he broke up with her. It wasn’t the mask of fury she had seen on his face when he had explained to her one night that his US Naval Academy application had been rejected, by Mav out of all people. It wasn’t either the naturally serious face he would most often wear, nor the sly smirk she had seen on his lips so many times.
His stare was even darker than usual and heavy on her. She couldn’t quite figure out what he wanted to say if he wasn’t using words. One thing she had learned with Bradley was to not rush him and let him come to her.
“We were about to eat, mind to join us?” She asked instead of the millions of questions in her head.
He only nodded, not speaking a word. Y/N took another look at him before heading back to the kitchen.
They stayed silent for a couple of minutes in the kitchen, waiting for Henry to come back from the bathroom. Knowing the kid, with the times he was taking, he was probably making a mess with the soap in there, but none of them went checking on him.
Y/N was watching the vegetables cooking and Bradley was leaned against the kitchen sink unit, deeply in his thoughts, arms crossed over the short-sleeve shirt he still wore even if it was already late October.
“I’ve been cleared.”
Y/N was surprised by the tone of his voice - if there was only one thing for which Bradley was living, it would be flying. “Is that… a bad thing?”
Bradley sighed, passing a hand on his face. He had only received the news about an hour ago and the first thing he had done was to drive to Y/N’s place. He had tried so hard not to think about this moment and what he would do - as if he had any other option than just to follow the orders. Now that the moment had come, it didn’t feel right with him.
“I-” another sigh, “these last months, I just realized what I could have had if-”
If he hadn’t felt like he had to do it on his own.
If he hadn’t been too scared of hurting her.
All those moments he shared with Y/N and Henry over the last few months had made him realized that his own fear - of hurting the people he loved and especially leaving them behind - had prevented him to live some beautiful moments. He had self-sabotaged himself, breaking off with Y/N so he could be sure she wasn’t hurt by his choices - ironically enough. He had shut her off, convincing himself somehow that he was doing the right thing for the both of them - and how wrong had he been, those last few months had proven him.
“Do you remember what you told me when you broke up with me?” Y/N asked suddenly, making Bradley look back at her. He wasn’t exactly sure what he had said besides ‘sorry’ and ‘I love you’. When he thought about that night, he could only remember her tears, her hands grabbing his shirt and not wanting to let go of him. She had fought for them, so hard, but he had already made up his mind.
He shook his head no as Y/N moved closer.
"Sometimes good things fall apart so better things can come together,” Y/N reeled out quietly as if she had re-lived this scene over and over again in her head.
Bradley laughed bitterly, “I overdid myself on that one, didn’t I.”
Y/N wasn’t laughing. She was staring at him, this determined look on her face. Like she had waited for this moment for a while now. “I do think that is true, somehow,” Y/N smiled softly.
She had thought about this a lot over the last few weeks - it wasn’t just only her now, she was also responsible for Henry. It wasn’t her intention falling back in love with him, after Bradley got back in her life. She had been pleased to find in him a friend, a friend that had rekindled a flame inside her with his sly grin and attention. She felt more alive than ever. He made her feel so… whole.
Heart pounding, Bradley watched her intensely. There were unspoken words in the air, words neither of them wanted to stay out loud, too afraid it would break the spell. He knew looking at her now that they were on the same page. He knew he could let go of his fear; whatever life had in store for them would always be worth it.
They could have stayed like this forever. But Y/N couldn’t let her chance pass.
Without warning, she kissed him. If he hadn’t been leaned against the unit, Bradley would have fallen backwards from the feeling of her lips on his, how his hands found her hips by instinct to bring her closer to him, and how he could feel the warmth radiating off her. It was like in his best memories, and just like it had always have been: two puzzle pieces fitting together perfectly.
“What does that mean?” he whispered as he pressed his forehead to hers. He needed her to say it.
“That, perhaps, you could add me back as your emergency contact?”
#bradley rooster x reader#bradley rooster x y/n#rooster x reader#rooster x you#rooster top gun#tgm#tgm fanfiction#tgm fic#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw x you#bradley bradshaw imagine#top gun maverick imagine#top gun maverick fic#rooster imagine#rooster fanfic#bradley bradshaw x female reader#bradley bradshaw fanfiction#top gun fanfiction#top gun fic#top gun x y/n#top gun x you#top gun x reader#lea's writing
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Sleepy Rooster
Rooster x Reader
Tags: sleepy!rooster
Warnings: romance and everything that comes with it, slight nsfw
Notes: dear god (awooga forearms) please let me die having been cuddled by this man AT LEAST once 🧎🏻♀️🙏🏻
With the grace of a Cold War spy, you tiptoed past the bed where your boyfriend lay snoring. Like usual, he came home from wherever the admiral had sent him, fucked you senseless, and then crashed on your bed to sleep for a good 20 hours.
Bradley had been gone for 3 weeks this time, and when he got back last night, the only thought on his mind was kissing you all over to make up for it. But now, with your body painted with the marks of his love, you wanted to show him how much you missed him in a way that didn’t involve letting him rail you into tomorrow. And so here you were, trying to creep out of your room to go make him breakfast.
He may have the eyes of a fighter pilot, but you could swear his hearing was otherworldly because just as your hand reached the doorknob, his raspy voice stopped you in your tracks.
“What’re you doin’, honey?” He said, eyes half lidded as he chuckled at your attempt to be sneaky. “I was trying to surprise you. I was gonna make you breakfast.” You pouted.
God, he loved that pout.
He loved watching the way you titled you head to the side like a cute little puppy, with the eyes to match the attitude.
“No, don’t get up, princess. I got all I need right here.” A lopsided grin spread across his still half-asleep face, and he opened his arms for you, pulling back the blanket so you could get underneath.
All of your desire to be a good girlfriend was replaced by giddy happiness as you practically jumped on Rooster to get back in bed. You found your usual place instantly, with your head against his chest and his strong arms around your back. Propping your chin up on your hand, you fiddled with his dog tags as you stared into his chocolate brown eyes.
“Love you, Roo.” You whispered as you played with the chain around his neck.
“Love you too, hun.” He cooed before a mischievous look came across his face. “Maybe I can have you for breakfast instead?”
“Bradley!”
#rooster top gun#top gun maverick#bradley rooster x y/n#bradley rooster x reader#rooster x you#rooster x reader#rooster x y/n#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw x you#bradley bradshaw x female reader#oneshot
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Roughing It // JS x BB x Reader
Summary: Jake Seresin begged you, his best friend to go camping with him and Bradley Bradshaw—but not for the innocent reasons you might think. A simple camping trip turns into something much more unholy. Callsign— Giggles
Warnings: Jake Seresin x F!Reader. Bradley Bradshaw x F!Reader. Unprotected sex. Male receiving oral. Choking. MxMxF Threesome. Creampie. Obvious power dynamics.
Word Count: 5.7k
Author Note: Happy Sunday—AKA, the Lords day. This is Roughing It’s 3rd rewrite & by far my favourite re-write & fandom. Enjoy Sluts.
In the quiet of the warm afternoon light that cascaded across Jake Seresin's living room—you found a spot in the warm orange hume to curl up on the lounge. You settled on your comfort movie—TopGun, Maverick. Your clammy hand caressed the TV remote as you pressed play, the opening sequence still and always would send chills through your body as you watched the carrier out to sea appear on the large crisp screen like you’d watched a million times before and would probably watch a million times more.
“High— way to the danger zone—“ You mumbled along as you settled in a little deeper, trying to will the inappropriate thoughts away. To say you were nervous was an understatement, neither you and Jake or you and Bradley had spoken about the events that had transpired a week ago and either of the two men who you’d had some of the roughest sex of your life with, no pun intended, had looked at you the same since.
“Just come over and hang out, Gigs?” You could hear Jake's voice in your head as you sat and tried to focus on the movie playing in front of you. “You’ve been avoiding me like the damn plague.”
There was a reason for that—
You couldn’t tell if Jake and Bradley were looking at you in disgust and regret at the thought of what the three of you had done or if they were just looking for an opportunity to have their way with you again. From fleeting glances in the halls or eyes that burned into the back of your head in the change rooms. Either way, it made you crave the two naval aviators more than you cared to admit.
It all happened so fast, you couldn’t remember exactly how it started but the one thing you knew for sure was that Jake was the one who imitated it. He’d been thinking about it for a hell of a long time before he put his plan into action too.
***~***~***~***
“For crying out loud Giggles! you complain more than Bradshaw does.” Jake huffed as he stood and turned away from where the two of you had been sitting on the camp log. “My god you’re driving me insane!” He groaned out as you turned your head to follow his trajectory. You could physically hear the frustration laced in Jake's tone of voice. “Just cut it out for like five minutes will ya?” Jake tried to level with you the best he could as he went around and grabbed a stray stick, he poked at the fire with it as he watched the bright orange embers fly into the night sky. You scoffed, cleaning the bowls from the delightful dinner of canned chicken soup and roasted vegetables.
“Bite my fucking ass, Seresin, maybe if you didn’t try to feed me cold inedible canned soup for dinner I wouldn’t be in such a pissy mood!” Jake Seresin had proven himself time and time again—he was a shocking cook. “You barely even followed the instructions! How hard is it to heat up a can of soup!”
“You haven’t stopped the entire day!” Jake felt his emotions running rampant after an exhausting day or setting up for the trip the three of you had been planning for weeks. You, Jake and Bradley had all aligned your work commitments to spend a few days in the wilderness together, off the grid, no phones and away from prying eyes. It was a much needed break from the world—the navy, F-18’s, commitments and Fanboys latest obsession with the new star wars movie.
Pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger, Jake couldn’t help but to raise his voice at you, he poked and prodded with the fire for a few moments more before he let his inhibitions get the better of him. Before Jake really knew what he was doing, his feet were taking him on a mission of their own, marching him over to where you were washing the used pots and pans out
“I’ve got a headache from your incessant complaining.” Seething, Jake towered over you from behind. His muscular build that rivals Adonis himself blocked the soft light of the moon. Watching as you shrugged him off with a simple eye roll–Jake didn't take well to being shrugged off so nonchalantly like your attitude wasn't a massive pain in his arse. He’d known you for the better half of ten years and you’d always been on his ‘fuck it’ list.
“Then fucking leave me alone then!? God, it’s like you didn’t beg me to come with you guys even though you damn well know I hate everything associated with camping.” You let Jake have it as you placed the dirty pot you were working on into the soaping lukewarm later before you turned to face Jake completely. “You have a problem with my complaining, but you complaining about my complaining is worse than any complaining I've done.” Jake scoffed as you pushed your index finger into his chest– the action alone made him bite his tongue. He was as hard as a rock and felt like he could snap at any second. He wanted you, so bad. He needed to feel you.
“Come on Hangman, just let me get this shit done and we can go to bed.” You tried to soften the mood, you could see very clearly in Jake's emerald green eyes that he was ready to fight. His chest was puffed, his feet were firm and his jar was sharp–clenched tight to keep himself from speaking thoughts he only ever thought about when he was alone and jerking himself off into existence. “Go to bed–I'll be right behind you.” You smiled softly before you patted Jake's chest three times with a gently open palm before you turned back to where you had been working away at the dishes. “You know, you’re kinda acting like you want me to bitch and moan your ear off? You shoul–” Before you could finish your sentence, Jake's large and slightly calloused hand wrapped around your jaw. He covered your mouth as he pressed his chest against your back and held you securely against him by bringing his other arm around your waist. breathing heavily through your nose your eyes widened when you felt Jakes hard on press against the small of your back, you couldn’t process what was happening fast enough.
Jake had seen his opportunity and taken it. The two of you had always had sexual tension but you refused to do anything about it for the sake of your own image. He was a great friend, a questionable wingman at times, but Jake Seresin had never been a guy on your roster. Until now when your sexual tension reached new peaks and Jake finally cracked under the pressure.
All it took was an off grid camping trip
“Maybe I needed an excuse to finally fuck that pretty mouth of yours.” Jake groaned as he felt you shudder under his touch. “I always find myself jerking off to the thought of your lips around me.” His warm breath fanned across the supple skin of your neck before he softly pressed his lips to the juncture of your neck–leaving a gentle kiss against your collarbone that sent instant goosebumps over you like a shock tsunami. “The thought of what your lips would feel like wrapped around me Gigs really makes me question my sanity.” A soft whimper escaped your mouth and vibrated against the palm of Jake's hand. “But you already know that, you always have, haven't you?”
“Hey Guys?” Bradley called out from inside the tent to where he knew you and Jake were. All Jake did was press himself further into your back and hold his hand against your mouth a little tighter, willing you to keep quiet as he responded to Rooster.
“What's up Bradshaw, I thought you went to bed ages ago?”
“Well I tried but your bickering back and forth was kinda hard to ignore–” Neither you nor Jake could contest that statement. “Just try not to kill each other out there, please? And shut the fuck up!”
“We’re good, aren't we Y/n?” Jake replied as he reluctantly pulled his hand away from your mouth. This was your chance to tell Jake to rack off. This was your chance to tell him you didn't want any of this, that he’d read you wrong and it had all been innocent fun. But he hadn’t read you wrong, you wanted Jake just as badly as he wanted him. You were just too afraid to admit it.
“Yeah, we’re good.” You added to Jake's surprise. It was all the confirmation he needed. “Night Rooster!” It didn't take long for Jake to spring into action, he was desperate and needed to get you out of his system before you had a chance to fully infect his entire being. If the two of you fucked and got it out of your system, then he could still walk away unscathed. There were feelings bubbling under the surface but Jake Seresin didn't do feelings.
“Why’d you bring me out here?” You asked as you turned around to face Jake. “You could’ve just asked me to suck you off in the comfort of your own bed?” There wasnt an awful lot of space left between the two of you as you stood shrouded in the soft glow of the moonlight. You made your move and wrapped your arms up and around Jake's shoulders, he followed suit and mirrored your actions by closing the gap, your lips now ghosted his as Jake smiled against you. “I'm sure if you had asked me to, I would have played into your dirty little fantasies.” You could feel Jake trying to kiss you, but much to his display and desperate attempts to feel your lips on his you kept your playful smirk smeared across your face and pulled further away. “I can assure you that whatever fantasy you've concocted that gets you off at night, the real things ten times better.”
“Just” Jake paused, his hands gripped at your waist to pull you flush against him. He couldn't risk you getting away from him. Not now. “Just didn’t wanna risk the neighbours putting in a noise complaint.” Giggling, you made the move to connect your lips against Jake’s. A heated, passion filled kiss had you both gripping at different parts of each other’s bodies as you walked back closer towards the tent, specifically the fallen tree in front of it.
You pushed Jake down by guiding him with a gentle hand on his shoulder–there was not a single part of his being that objected to your dominance. He felt his dick twitch inside his sweats at the action. You stood before him for a second with a wicked smirk across your face. Jake knew you were into this just as much as he was.
“Are you just gonna stand there Giggles or are you gonna get to work?” Jake teased you as he trailed a hand up between your legs. “I'm dying here.” You waisted not a second longer as you dropped gracefully to your knees before him. You played with the elastic of Jake's sweats as he helped you wiggled them down his toned and oh so muscular legs–pulling them down towards his ankles until there was nowhere left for them to go except discharged and forgotten about. With a slight chuckle, you gripped his hardened length in your right hand, barely moving your palm up and down his shaft just to watch him swim under your warm touch.
“Fuck–” Jake sighed in relief as you slowly moved your palm. It was barely nothing, the pad of your thumb swiped across his leaking tip to collect some of his pre cum. The essence of Sersin. “Fucking christ–”
“Going commando, something you do regularly, Hungman?” You made sure to tease the man putty in your hands before taking his tip in your mouth, you rolled your tongue gently over his flushed tip. Pink and bright and oh so sensitive. The colour of his lips. Sensitive and begging for your unconditional attention.
“Nah, just somethin’--” Jake couldn't think straight, he couldn’t formulate a full sentence as you worked your hand over him, jerking him off slowly but perfectly. “Oh my god–” Jake moaned, too caught up in the pleasure you were giving him as you took him deeper down your throat, inch by inch, so far down your tiny throat, his manscaped pubic hair tickled the tip of your nose. “Gifs—fuckin’ Christ, where did you learn how to do that?” His voice was raspy and heavy as he tried to control his breathing. His hand made a makeshift ponytail with your hair as you bobbed up and down, gagging softly around Jake's cock as it twitched and leaked pre-cum onto your tongue. With your watery eyes, so lust filled and dowy peering up at him, Jake thought for sure he’d entered the gates of heaven.
“Sounds like someone’s a little bit jealous of those who got to cum before you Seresin.” You took Jake's saliva coated cock from your mouth and pumped him with your hand, he watched through hooded eyes as you took both his balls in your mouth softly as you began to glide your tongue gently over the sensitive skin. “Taste so good Jake—“
“Fuck—“ This was everything Jake Seresin had fantasised about. “Yess—Y/n, oh my god.'' Jake wasn’t being discreet at all, his moans filled the campground and echoed off the mountains as you jerked his thick throbbing cock and sucked so delicately on his balls. In hindsight, it wasn’t the smartest idea to give Jake head right in front of the tent you both planned on sharing with Bradley Bradshaw. It was needless to say—you’d fucked up.
As you went back to take Jake entire cock down your throat, you closed your eyes as they watered. Never stopping for a moment to see the familiar silhouette of Bradley standing just behind Jake, watching on as his best friend gave some of the sloppiest head to his other best friend he’d ever seen. He didn’t know how to truly feel about the sight unfolding before him, but Rooster surely felt the strain of his sweats becoming a little more noticeable with every passing second.
The second Jake saw Bradley, he tried shooing him off, mouthing a soft “fuck off” as he tried to hold his orgasm back. He looked sucked out as all hell and you’d only given him head. He didn’t think he was prepared for how you’d feel fluttering around his length.
“Uhh! Fuck Giggles, keep doin’ that and I’m going to cum down that pretty fucking throat of yours.” Jake confessed, his hand helped to guide your head down his shaft as you gagged and hummed around him. Bradley’s eyes widened as he made himself scarce, shocked at the sight he just saw. He couldn’t see you like that, he wasn’t Jake. He couldn’t take advantage of you. He couldn’t ruin you like he’d always wanted to.
“That’s the point Jake, don’t hold back, flood my throat.” You looked up through your lashes, looked up to see Jake's flushed face as his mouth fell open into an O shape, his eyes trained on you as you went back to furiously sucking his cock, hard and fast. Your other hand continued fondling his balls, squeezing them slightly as his orgasm approached.
“Fuck! Shit, ahhh- Y/n m’cumming, fuck, fuck ohhhh—!” Jake's orgasm washed over him. He could feel the pool at the base of his shaft beginning to overflow, ready to explode. When he did he shot deep down your throat in hot spirits as his cock twitched in your mouth. Jake's entire body stilled as he fell victim to his orgasm, the intense wave of pleasure took over his entire being as he let out a prolonged moan. All consuming.
“Holy fuck.” Jake sighed heavily as he tried to catch his breath after coming down from his high. He watched as you swallowed his entire load, licking the tip of his swollen length, making sure nothing was left behind, that nothing was wasted.
“Did that live up to all those naughty thoughts?” You questioned as you sat back on your heels, watching as Jake pulled his sweatpants back up his toned legs—missing the sight of him the second he was covered.
“Oh” Jake exclaimed, a smile appeared wide and wild on his crimson flushed face as his free hand worked to push back his slightly damp hair. “That exceeded everything I ever thought it would be like.” You nodded, proud of your efforts as you rose to your feet, standing between Jake's legs as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. His hands immediately helped your hips still so you couldn’t move.
He wasn’t done with you yet.
“Hope it doesn’t change anything between us?” You asked softly, leaning over to plant your lips against his, the slight taste of his cum still evident and present on your swollen lips. Tasting himself for the first time, Jake didn’t quite mind. It made his heart pump with lust and adrenaline as anticipation for what was to come lingered in the air.
“That won’t change anything.” He whispered into your open mouth, his forehead rested against yours as you maneuvered yourself down to straddle his waist. “But once I watch you suck Rooster off while I fuck that tight cunt I know you’ve got, might be a different story.” Before you could answer, you heard what sounded like Bradleys metal water bottle falling to the ground from inside the tent.
“What!?” Bradley shouted as you did the same, only softer yet just as confused. Jake didn’t just say that—did he?
“C’mon Gigs,” Jake smirked as he placed some of your freely flowing hair behind your ear. “Bradley saw what you just did and I know he has the same twisted thoughts as me, s’not fair now is it?”
You didn’t respond right away as Jake moved your jumper to the side and kissed at your collarbone—the moonlight danced across his tones shoulders as you mulled over his proposal. To be completely objectifying, Bradley Bradshaw was incredibly attractive. You couldn’t deny you’d thought about him from time to time when you found yourself alone and in need of a release. You just thought it was completely out of the realm of possibility.
Turns out with Jake's help, it wasn’t.
“I guess not.” You answered meekly before kissing Jake once more, your tongue dancing with his gracefully, like you were searching for his soul and he yours. Jake waisted not a second more as he picked you up and had you straddle his waist. He walked you over to the small two-man that was inevitably going to be a three man tent and dropped you to your feet at the door.
“Bradshaw, you have a total of five seconds to open this door before I change my mind on sharing.” As Jake spoke through the tent door, you began taking your jumper off, exposing your bare chest to him, his jaw hanging open when he noticed your perky tits. Kissed by the chill of the cool night.
“Oh fuck.” His voice was unrecognisably low and full of lust. “Maybe I shouldn’t be so keen on sharing you.” His hand came out to grip your right nipple between his index finger and thumb as Bradley opened the door, already naked and hard as ever. A slight wince left your lips from the sudden pinch Jake gave your nipple as he rolled it between the pads of his index finger and thumb.
“I uh—“ Bradley stuttered, rubbed at the back of his head like a school boy who’d been caught writing crude and inappropriate comments on his desk. “I was already jerking off after I saw you take Jake balls deep in your throat.” Bradleys cock twitched against his lower abdomen as he sat back awkwardly. He’d only reached up to unzip the tent door.
Jake pulled hard against your nipple, making you walk closer to him before shoving you gently into the tent, a sinful smile grew upon your face as Bradley lost his positioning and fell back, welcoming you into the tiny room as he reached out to stop you from falling on top of his. He looked all kinds of nervous, worried even.
“S’okay Rooster.” You cooed innocently enough for him to let his guard down slightly. “I promise I won't bite unless you want me to.” You teased, dropping to your knees before him while Bradley worked quickly to lay down on his back, hands resting behind his head.
“I can't believe we’re fucking doing this? This is crazy we shouldn’t I mean, c’mon Jake it's Y/n for fuck sake, she’s our bes–” Bradley couldnt finish his sentence, the second your lips were taking the tip of his throbbing length inside your warm mouth he lost all sense of insecurity about the situation. Nothing else mattered expert for your excerpt touch. The sensation of euphoria you bought him. “Oh holy shit” Your hand wrapped tightly around the base of this shaft as your tongue ran up the thick vein that ran up his entire shaft. Your lips felt heavenly around his sensitive and exposed, pre-cum covered tip and before Rooster could even wrap his mind around what it truly was extracurricular activities he was about to engage in–you had sunk lower and lower, taking every inch of his thick cock in your mouth.
Without hesitation.
Bradley tip was slightly darker than Jakes, you didn’t need much time at all for your throat to adjust to the foreign object making its presence known in the back of your throat over and over again due to you just having just finished sucking the life from Jake. You were prepped and ready to be whatever they needed you to be under the stars and away from the hullabaloo of Miramar. Tonight you weren't Lieutenant Y/n Giggles Y/L/N–you were Hangman and Roosters little fuck toy.
You got to work in no time, gagging and roughly sucking up and down Bradley’s entire shaft, watching through hooded eyes as Bradley moaned and groaned uncontrollably from the pleasure he was receiving. You were between his legs as he reached out for your head, guiding you down his length. You felt Jake's hands come to the waistband of your sweatpants, he pulled them down as your mouth continued to bob up and down on Bradley’s cock.
“Huh?'' Jake scoffed as he bit hard on his bottom lip. “Going commando, something you do regularly, Giggles?” He teased as his large slightly calloused hands slid up and over your peachy ass as it stuck up in the air, ready for his length to slide in your drenched cunt. Smiling around Bradley’s cock you gaged slightly. Pumping Bradley’s shaft with your hand as you went to answer Jake. You could very much feel his tip gliding over your dripping lips from behind. You were ready and oh so needy for him to fill your needy little pussy.
“Nah, just something—“ You began to mimic what Hangman had told you before, but you didn't have enough time to give him attitude before you felt Jake push himself between your slick folds. He trusted his thick cock inside you, slowly, he stretched your tight pussy out so much so it almost stung. But it felt good, oh so fucking good. “Ahhh fuck!” You cried around Bradley’s cock now balls deep down your throat. It was a position you never thought you’d find yourself in. Sucking Bradley’s cock while Jake took you from behind, taking both your best friends at the same time.
“You like this Y/n? like how we both fuck you?“ Jake asked as he bottomed out inside your tight cunt, he could feel you clench around the bottom of his cock, tip pressed against your cervix. Bradley roughly pulled you up by your hair, watching as spit trailed from your bottom lip to his swollen tip. With a needy gasp, you looked up at him wickedly, begging him to use you just with a lustful look.
“Answer the question Y/n, do you like the way we both fuck you?” Bradley’s voice had turned into a low deep growl, his eyes had darkened from the dust brown you were familiar with to a near black mirage, full of lust unlike moments ago when he almost backed out–unsure of the decision he made to fuck his best friend. As Jake's hands gripped your hips and began to thrust faster in and out of you, you moaned in response.
“Uh huh, l love the way you both feel ohh—god Jake you’re so big, fuck me–” Hearing you moan how big his cock was sent Jake into the stratasphere with his ego in toe, with your encouragement he began to fuck you harder, with more force. Bradley forced your head back down onto his cock, both his hands guiding your head up and down using your hair. Like you were his personal flesh light.
“You weren’t fucking wrong man, her mouths so damn good.” Bradley’s hips beginning to lift off the ground as he fucked your mouth. Stopping every few minutes to pull you off him just so he could look at how pretty your fucked face looked. Your tears were so beautiful, all because of him.
“Wait till you feel her tight cunt, fuck so tight its almost hard to move.” Jake was relentlessly pounding into you, the sound of his balls smacking against the curve of your ass could be heard in the silence that lingered between grunts and unapologetically loud moans of pure ecstasy.
“Jake! Please, I'm gonna cum!” You cried, the coil within your core had begun to tighten every time Jakes tip pressed against your cervix. Bradley sat up, his hand came flying to your mouth as he shoved three of his digits inside your mouth, opening your jaw wide before leaning in close to you.
“That’s it Y/n, cum around Hangman’s cock so I can fuck you harder, fuck you till you black out, fuck you till your begging for me to stop.” Bradleys words had you nearly ascending as he coaxed you towards your high with just his words. “I wanna feel how tight your cunt is.”
“Rooster, choke her when she cums–” Jake ordered, Bradley waisted not a second as he wrapped his hand around throat and pressed his fingers into the side of your supple neck. He reached between your legs to softly rub small circles over your sensitive bundle of nerves, an instantaneous quiver left your throat as his finger made contact, Bradley never for a second took his eyes off yours. He wanted to see you come undone like this, all for him and Jake. Just for him and Jake.
“Ahh! F-fuck, m’cumming!” You whimpered as Braldey tightened his hold on your throat, he could see the small veins appearing in your forehead from the lack of oxygen but knew by the look in your eyes alone that you were loving this just as much as he was. Your pussy clenching so tightly around Jake's slicked up cock he almost stilled from the grip.
“Ahh fuck! Rooster, holy fuck she’s like a vice!” Jake groaned as he fucked you hard through your high. “She’s creaming around my dick, fuck—” This had been Jake Seresin greatest idea, to fuck his best friends.
Bradley began to fuck your face with the same fingers he’d teased your clit with, he made you gag on them as your eyes rolled into the back of your head, trembling as you came hard around Jakes cock. Once he saw you coming down from your high, Bradle tentatively removed his hand from around your throat, watching with wide eyes as you gasped heavily for air, welcoming the new wave of oxygen that you’d been deprived of into your lungs. Tears streamed down your fucked out face.
“Jake let me fuck her—“ Bradley whimpered out desperately as he pumped his cock fast. He waited for Jake to pull out and share, but he was ready to explode. He gripped your chin with a wicked glare as he squashed your lips together. “You don't know what you're in for, baby.” It was a warning but you quivered with excitement nevertheless before Rooster stuck the pad of his thumb between your lips and spat into your mouth, rubbing your bottom lip with his thumb. “You’re gonna ride my dick.” Bradley told you with no hesitation evident in his tone as you nodded with eagerness. Jake pulled out of you with a hard slap to your right ass cheek, causing you to let out a whine.
“Ah!” You hissed as the sting lingered well after Jakes had left your ass, you immediately crawled closer to Bradley and straddled his waist, you manoeuvred his length to line up with your creaming entrance. Jake wasted no time in coming to stand above Bradley, his cock throbbing, ready to explode yet again as he moved your sweat covered hair to one side.
“Uhh fuck!” You whined as you sunk onto Bradley’s slightly thicker cock, his hands roamed your naked body as Jake pulled your mouth back onto his cock, needy for your mouth yet again.
“Holy fuck! Ah fuck, fuck, fuck, god you're so tight! So fuckin’ tight Y/n ride my dick just like that, yes—!” Bradley mumbled, continuously biting his bottom lip as he felt you bounce on his cock. He was in heaven, you were the best pussy he’d ever had.
“Told you.” Jake moaned from above, his hands held onto both sides of your face as he bucked his hips softly into your throat, letting you do most of the work as he focused on chasing his second high of the night. “Slap her ass.” And so Bradley did, he slapped your ass over and over, harder every time you came down on his cock, the sting was so deep you knew you’d have a reminder of the night the come morning.
“Fuck can I cum inside you? fuck please say yes?” Bradley whimpered as you rode him, Jake took his cock from your mouth before slapping it against your open and awaiting tongue.
“Answer him!” He hissed, so close to his second orgasm it was making his eyes water and his knees weak.
“Y-yes fuck, Rosoter! flood my fucking pussy, please!” You cried out into the secluded tent, completely exhausted and fucked out. Bradley gripped at your hips before bending his knees, fucking up into you so hard and fast you fell forward onto Jakes cock, deep throating him unexpectedly and bringing him to that sweet sweet orgasm he’d been chasing.
“Oh fuck fuck fuck!” Jake groaned, pulling his cock from your mouth and pulling your hair back, exposing your entire face in front of him as he pumped his throbbing cock in his hand, hot spurts of cum were quick to come flying all over your fucked-out face. “Arrgghhh yes baby that's it, look so pretty covered in my cum.”
Jakes cum completely covered your face, a facial so thick it dripped down your chin and neck as it slowly made its way to your perky tits.
“Oh god you look so fucking hot like that.” Jake confessed, running this thumb over your bottom lip to collect some of his cum before making you suck it off. Bradley wasn’t far behind, never slowing his thrust for a second while Jake unloaded all over your face.
“M’cummingRoo! Fuck don’t stop!” You gasped aloud, your voice broke as you reached between Bradley and yourself to rub your throbbing sensitive bud. “Aaah- fuck yes!” You moaned a heavenly near pornographic groan as you came hard around Bradley Bradshaw, squirting unexpectedly all over him in the process.
“Yes! Yes! Oh fuck I’m uhhh—“ Bradley spilled his entire load into your tight cunt, creating a mixture of your cum and his as Jakes dripped from your face down your chest.
“What— what fuck just happened?” You all asked each other as both Jake and Bradley cleaned you off, completely taken aback at the events that had just passed now that your need and lust had begun to fade.
***~***~***~***
You didn’t know at what part of the movie you fell deep into thought, reminiscing about the camping trip you took a week ago with your best friends but it was the sound of Jake’s voice that brought you out of it, only to realise you had been rubbing your sensitive bundle of nerves the entire time, right there on his lounge. Hand sunk low into your sweats.
“And what do you think you��re doing?” He questioned, leaning against the wall casually before he began sauntering over to you with a devilish smirk upon his face.
“I uh, I uh don’t” You stuttered, fumbling around as you sat up. You knew you had been caught, but you still tried your best to act like you had no idea what he was talking about. “How long were you just standing there watching me for like some weirdo?” Jake ignored your question. He was on a mission.
“Were you thinking about our camping trip?” Jake asked as he slowly walked over, unbuckling his belt as you noticed the hard girth showing through his dress pants, having just come back from a meeting. He was so hard it looked painful. It was painful. You looked down at Jake's crotch for a little too long, then up, down then back up, Jake’s eyes had been locked on you the entire time. Working to stand before you—his belt slipping around your neck as he tightened the loop. His hand guided yours over his clothes cock—begging for your touch.
“Or was it just me?”
#jake seresin fanfiction#jake hangman seresin#jake seresin#jake hangman seresin x reader#jake seresin imagine#jake seresin x reader#jake hangman imagine#jake hangman x reader#jake hangman smut#rooster bradshaw imagine#rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw fanfiction#bradley rooster x reader#bradley bradshaw imagine#bradley bradshaw top gun#bradley bradshaw smut#bradley x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw
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pairing: rooster x reader
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"You're driving me crazy over here, honey," Bradley said with a pout from his spot in your kitchen, whining as he stared at you, your back to his front as you stood at your spot in front of the gas stove.
It was a picturesque Sunday morning, the air was warm and sweet-smelling as the wind floated in from the open window, dainty linen curtains blowing enchanting shapes in the breeze. You had asked Bradley if he wanted to eat breakfast outside today since, as you had put it, it would be such a waste if we didn't.
"Hm?" you hummed in response, resting your cheek on your shoulder as you craned your neck to glance over at the pilot, your hands busy tending to pancakes sizzling away on the stovetop "what'd you say, baby?" finding it a little hard to hear him over the speaker you had playing next to you on the countertop.
"You expect me to just sit over here while you're over there looking like that?" he questioned in an incredulous tone, his legs were wide open, palms splayed over his bare thighs while he watched you, his pajama shorts riding high on the tan skin underneath.
You raised your eyebrows, eyes glinting curiously in his direction before you bent over at the waist to check the bacon crisping up in the oven. Old sweatshirt riding up just enough to drive Bradley wild as you batted your lashes at him, stoking the flames you loved to be warmed by.
"What's that, Bradley?" you said, dimples threatening to break through the coy smile you were trying to hide, "don't you want me to take care of you like I promised?" you teased, reminding Bradley of the moments that had transpired not too long before he was sat sipping coffee in one of his favorite places in the world, your kitchen on a lazy Sunday morning.
"Sleepy girl,"
His favorite way to wake you up on Sundays was to whisper in your ear as he snuck his hand up the front of whatever soft top you happened to fall asleep in. Warm hand reaching for your breasts, but wanting you to be awake before he teased you so he could listen to you react.
"Good morning, baby," he rasped in your ear, his eager fingers ghosting over your bare nipples after he felt you stir, relishing in the pleased little sound you made in the back of your throat in response to his touch, nipples pebbling immediately under the tips of his fingers.
The night before you promised him you'd wake up early and make him a nice breakfast: fluffy buttermilk pancakes, perfectly cooked bacon, coffee the way he likes it — the works — he deserved it, you'd said.
You spent that night cooing in his ear about how he worked so hard on base, pressing wet kisses across his bare chest as you praised him, moaning desperately into the air as he pressed his thumb softly on your clit as you rode him—couldn't stop telling him how desperately you wanted to make him feel good.
"You deserve to feel so fucking good all the time, Bradley Bradshaw," you said, your skin hot and flushed as you fell apart on top of him, "and I'm going to make sure you do. I'm going to treat you so, so good, baby." you moaned into his ear before you felt him filling you up in your favorite way.
So blinking your eyes open, to see your bedroom bathed in the hazy morning glow while Bradley's hard cock pressed firmly against your ass, was not what you needed to have the productive morning you'd promised.
"Bradley," you forced out in your rough morning tone, a warning, at least that's how you intended it to sound.
"Mhm?" Rooster grumbled from behind you, pulling you tighter to his sleep-warmed body as he pushed his wet lips and scratchy mustache into your soft neck. "love hearing you say my name," he mumbled, "lemme hear it again, sweet girl," a tiny kiss pressed into the back of your hairline, "y'smell so good by the way, always do." he said, his tone laced with affection as he inhaled your scent, pressing tender kisses to the sensitive skin of your throat.
"Bradley," you repeated, placing your hand on top of the one he had resting on your hip, managing to flip yourself so that you were facing him, staring directly into his eyes. "good morning."
You kissed him softly on the lips before taking both of his hands between your bodies and pressing them above your breast, inhaling deeply and letting him feel your heartbeat. Rooster was strong, there was no denying it. But, for all that strength, Bradley was also putty in your hands, made utterly helpless at the site of your eyes on his. His body went completely pliant the moment you locked eyes with him and put your hands anywhere on his body.
"G'morning," he sighed, losing his train of thought in the way the sunlight made your skin glow. Bradley pressed a soft kiss onto your nose as he breathed you in, his chest pressing against your joined hands as he moved closer, tangling your feet beneath the soft blankets.
"Remember what I promised?" you reminded him, taking in his dreamy expression, keenly aware of how shallow his breaths were as he gazed at you, "I gotta start cooking, honey. Wanna treat you to this."
His mouth parts, tongue coming out to wet his lips as he watches you speak. Leans in closer to listen to you whisper sweetly about how you wanted to take care of him.
"Or," he started, mustache quirking slightly as a smirk took over his features, "you stay here," he paused for a moment, his larger hands overlapping yours to bring your knuckles up to his warm lips, "and you let me take care of you — let me make you feel good."
Hearing him say that made your heart pound, made your entire body tingle all over and tempted you to no end. But you wanted, no needed, to do this for Bradley. You had been planning this ever since the last time you cooked for him and he wouldn't shut up about how he loved watching you in the kitchen.
Went on and on about how he was ready to be a stay-at-home anything if it meant getting to watch you act out all the fantasies he held deep inside, close to his heart. Fantasies of domestic bliss, of a life with someone who cares for you, who adores you, and in return, someone to make it all worth giving a shit about.
And as much as you loved taking care of Bradley, you could never get enough of the way he would playfully nudge you away from the sink the moment he saw you starting to wash up after a meal. He always wanted to help, wanted to be involved, wanted to fill you up with the same type of affection you poured into him.
"Excuse me miss," he would start, his hip bumping yours as he came to stand at the sink, "what do you think you're doing over here?" his smile was always infectious at this point, his large hands coming in to pluck the sponge straight from your wet fingers, "go relax, go get comfy. I'll do the rest." and with that final word, he would kiss you into total submission and send you on your way with a tap to your bottom.
"Later," you whispered, "stay in bed. I'll bring you coffee in a bit,"
You freed your hands from his grip and gently brushed your fingers over his cheekbone. He immediately leaned into your soft touch, allowing you to rise easily, his lips forming a pout as he watched you move to exit the bedroom.
"You're torturing me," he said, propping himself up on his palm, elbow digging into the mattress as he shifted, his other palm coming out to reach for you in a desperate final attempt to get you back under the warm sheets.
You couldn't help the grin that blossomed on your face as you basked in Bradley's warm gaze.
"Lucky for you," you started, cheek pressed to the door frame as you watched him, "you're trained to handle tough situations like this. Aren't you, Lieutenant Bradshaw?" you slipped out before he could give you a response.
Walking down the hall you heard him groan and flop back down onto the mattress, could clearly picture him running his hands over his face and through his sleep-mussed hair as he shook his head with a smile.
And that's how you ended up here, sunshine coming softly through your kitchen window while Bradley sat wide-legged at your breakfast nook. His large body settled into the cushion you and your friends had DIY'd one Friday evening, after two bottles of chilled red wine sat happily in your stomachs and shared laughter lit up the room. It's how you ended up with Bradley practically white-knuckling his mug as he watches you cook and fawn over him, sweetly asking him, "Can I top off your coffee, baby?" while you stroke the back of his neck, backing away before he can get his hands on you.
"Honey," Bradley had moved from his spot, taking a few short strides to stand behind you at the stove. His hands coming to rest on your hips as he drags you back to him, "I can't sit there anymore."
"No?" you question, your gaze on the cast iron skillet on the burner, the final pancake was cooking away on its shiny black surface as you feigned nonchalance. "What's got you so worked up, Bradshaw?"
Once he heard his last name leave your mouth he knew you were teasing him, and god was he ready to tease you right back.
"I don't know," he presses a kiss to the side of your neck, "maybe just a pretty little thing making me breakfast," another kiss below your ear, "my girl taking such good care of me,"
Bradley moves his right hand to take the spatula out of your grip, meeting no resistance as you melt into the heat radiating from his naked chest, getting lost in the words coming out of his mouth as you lean into his onslaught of kisses.
"I'll tell you what's got me worked up, baby."
You feel him inhale deeply behind you, the music playing from the speaker filling up the otherwise quiet room as he deftly flips the pancake on the pan, somehow knowing it was the perfect time to turn it as its golden brown surface shows itself. Soon after his perfect pancake has been flipped, he places the tool down, and using his now free right hand, turns off the stove and the oven, signaling the end of that—kitchen closed.
Every nerve in your body was lighting up now. You could feel the excitement building in your marrow as he stood calmly behind you.
"Turn around, and I'll tell you," he whispers in your ear, "lemme see your pretty eyes."
There was no other option but to listen, no choice but to turn around and stare into his lust-filled eyes.
"So, what is it, Bradshaw?" you practically sigh, turning to him as you try to calm your breathing, willing yourself to fill your lungs slowly before he pushes you over the edge with just his words.
"It's you," his voice still low as his as he reaches his hand up to brush over your lips. The pad of his thumb swipes back and forth gently over your pouted bottom lip, "it's you in this fucking kitchen looking like a dream. It's you saying my name while you pour me coffee," he pauses briefly, "it's that I know you slept in my sweatshirt last night to drive me fucking crazy this morning."
"Am I in trouble, Lieutenant Bradshaw?" you say coolly despite the blazing inferno ripping through your entire being, despite his finger still resting on the plush of your lip.
Bradley doesn't answer, simply pushes his thumb past your lips and onto your waiting tongue. He loves the way he can make you mush under his touch. But you never let him have the upper hand for long. He groans and squeezes his eyes shut as you gaze up at him, sucking harshly on the digit and wetting it with your eager tongue. He pulls the finger out of your mouth, hand moving to grip your cheeks in a manner that made your panties flood with wetness. Bradley was practically panting — trying so hard to keep his cool, trying so hard not to spin you around right here and fuck you against the oven.
“Breakfast is gonna have to wait, pretty girl,” he declares, “should have never let you get out of bed this morning.”
After that it's a blur of warm hands grasping for bare skin, a symphony of moaning into open-mouthed kisses and when Bradley moves his hands down your thighs, pulling in a signal you've come to know well, you jump. His capable hands immediately come to your ass as you wrap your legs around his middle. You're nose to nose with him as he walks you back to the bedroom.
"I've got you, baby," he whispers, "gonna make you feel so good."
He's dropping you onto the bed before you know it, towering his body over yours to kiss every inch of skin he can touch. He's pushing up your (his) sweatshirt to reveal the soft skin hidden underneath, stopping to bite and lick your exposed breasts, taking extra care of each nipple as he nips and pinches.
Rooster tosses away the article of clothing, leaving you lying in the morning light in just your underwear. He takes a single step back, leaving you panting on the bed as you stare up at him. He's obviously hard, his pajama shorts tented and hands flexing at his sides as he looks down at the way your almost naked body is being illuminated by the golden light.
"You look too fucking good," he whispers mostly to himself, "god damn."
He drops to his knees in front of you, hands coming to wrap underneath your knees as he drags you to the end of the bed, bringing your covered cunt to his waiting mouth. Rooster immediately presses his nose and lips onto the sodden fabric of your panties, his tongue coming out to taste the wetness soaking the cotton. You could come just from this, just from Bradley Bradshaw breathing into your pussy while he presses his perfect nose against your puffy clit.
"Want me to taste you, honey?" he whispers into your cunt, and you feel like you're burning alive, "cause I wanna taste you real fuckin' bad."
He pulls away from you again, and it really isn't fair that he looks like that right now. His skin is radiant and ethereal, he smells divine and he's looking at you like he wants to eat you alive. Before you even have a chance to answer, Rooster is gripping the fabric on your underwear tightly, increasing the friction on your clit. A little tease. Maybe a little mean—or even a little needy.
"Talk to me, baby," he says, fingers still pulling the fabric taut against your dripping center.
"Please, Bradley," you whisper desperately, chest heaving as you look down at him. "Need you," you add, yes because you mean it, but also because you know he loves to hear it.
With that, he is swiftly pulling the soaked panties down your legs, flinging them somewhere to be found later while the two of you laugh and make the bed together.
His palms come back to separate your thighs and you could die. You feel like you're about to plunge into icy cold water—the shock of adrenaline as your body adjusts to the frigid temperature. Warmth overtakes every cell in your body, as you gaze down at him. Bradley is staring directly into your wet pussy with a lust-filled glaze in his pretty eyes. With every inhale and exhale you feel more obscene, more spread open.
"So wet," he observes, his voice deep and gruff "you showin' off for me? Gettin' nice and wet just for me, baby?"
He runs his thumb up and down your slit, taking one pass to tease at your aching clit. His thumb is bringing you a pleasure that is making your back arch off the mattress, it feels like he is taking you apart piece by piece. His face is still so close to your pussy you can feel his breath fanning over you. His warm breath is a sharp contrast to the wetness of your weeping hole.
"Oh, honey," he coos, as he dips his middle finger into your soaked cunt, "bet you were wet this morning too, huh? But my good girl wanted to treat me to a picture-perfect Sunday, didn't she?"
He wants you to answer, you know this.
"Want you so bad, Bradley," you whimper into your palm, having pressed the side of it between your teeth to keep from yelling out, "want you always. Wanna take care of you all the time."
When his mouth finally comes down, it makes you weep, makes you cry out in a tone you've never heard leave your body. His supple mouth and tongue are bringing you so much comfort as they simultaneously send all-encompassing shockwaves of pleasure through you.
You’re bucking into his mouth, unashamed in your want for him, unabashed in the way you spread your wetness over his gorgeous face. You bring your hands away from your fluttering chest and gasping mouth to pull his hair, hard. He moans loudly when you do, making your tummy do backflips as he feasts on your cunt. Breakfast be damned.
"My perfect girl," he whispers against your clit, "tastes so good. Such a sweet pussy."
You groan at his words, reveling in his praise and storing it away to replay at a later time. No one has ever made you feel the way Rooster does, no one has ever been able to make you completely unravel in the way he can.
"Need you, baby," you whine from your spot on the bed, "need to feel you inside me, please. Please, Bradley."
He pulls back enough for you to see his face—lips shining, mustache obscenely wet and it makes you dizzy just to look at him like this. His hands are still gripping your thighs, his touch burning the area his palms are claiming.
"Can't wait for me to finish?" he taunts, mocking you as he smiles into your wet cunt.
That's when you move to sit up, propping yourself up on your elbows to get better leverage. Wordlessly you slip back away from him, sliding back on the soft sheets to rest your back flat against the headboard. Creating enough distance between the two of you to keep him out of arms reach, the only touch he could lay on you now is a soft graze to your ankle with his fingertips.
"Come here, Rooster," you say, your sultry tone sounds unfamiliar to you, coated in want and lust, "come and take your pussy, Lieutenant Bradshaw."
A beat passes. You hear him curse under his breath. He's so solid when he comes to stand at the end of the bed. Doesn't take his eyes off yours as he rids himself of his soft shorts. Doesn't make a sound as he palms his erection, stroking the length once, twice, three times before he descends upon you. Once again he's flexing that Navy-earned strength of his to drag your body flush against the mattress. His arms coming to frame your head as he brings his mouth down onto yours, soft and kind, kissing you so sweetly as he leaves the taste of you behind on your tongue.
"You're gonna be the death of me, baby." he moans into your mouth.
"What a way to go," is all you say before you reach down to rub his cock up and down your wet slit, taking extra care to rub his sensitive tip over your clit driving you both wild in the process.
He's gripping your wrist tight, halting your movement on his length. His eyes are half-open as they peer into yours, his bottom lip lodged in between his perfect teeth as he places your hand back on the soft sheets below you.
His plunging inside you so suddenly it pushes all the air out of your lungs. His breath hitches as he settles into the deepest, warmest parts of you—his hands coming up to keep your supple thighs snug around his waist as pleasure rocks through your core. Sometimes he moves so fast you can't keep up, can't keep up with the pillow being shoved under your ass as Bradley strokes deep inside of you.
“Oh, honey,” he moans, “god that pussy is perfect.”
Your skin sizzles at his praise, pleasure is working itself down to the very tips of your toes, making you shiver. You're gasping for breath as he pushes himself impossibly deeper inside of you, eyes falling shut as you chase the pleasure he is eliciting from you. Your pussy is clenching around him, he feels so thick and perfect inside you it makes you want to cry. Your hands are gripping the sheets so hard your fingers are cramping.
"Look at me, pretty baby," he whispers, "let me see my girl."
Your eyes snap open, but your head tilts back with pleasure at his request. You feel so close. You don't know how he gets you teetering over the edge so fast. Maybe it's the husky sound of his voice as he calls you a million different lovely names. Maybe it's the way his tan arms look caging you beneath his body. Or maybe it's the way he gets lost staring in between your bodies.
Rooster is obsessed with the way he looks sliding in and out of you while you cry out underneath him. But he can never look away too long, always needing to see the look in your eyes as he fucks you in a way that makes you whine and beg for him—makes you desperate for him in his favorite way. He never gets tired of the shock on your face when he whispers filthy words into your ear as he touches parts of you no one ever has. And you hope to god that no one but him ever will again.
Did Bradley love seeing you act out his domestic fantasies? Of fucking course. The pilot could hardly keep his hands off you most evenings, barely getting the chance to say hello before he was winded at the sight of you floating around the kitchen. Always humming along to a tune he liked — or at least he liked the sound of it coming sweetly from you — before you noticed he was in the room. You were always stirring this, or chopping that. Asking him to taste this for salt or, like most times, you simply said "sit and relax, Rooster, let me take care of you." like you did this morning. He loved the way you took care of him. You did it without pretense or motive. Just did it because you loved to see him loved. You adored doting on Bradley Bradshaw because you knew he deserved it. You knew how he craved it.
But, for as much as Bradley liked you sweet and delicate in the kitchen, he loved you fucked out and messy more. He went crazy over the way you'd suck his fingers into your mouth while he was fucking you, doing anything just to feel fuller. Loved the way you teased—all half-lidded eyes and parted lips, walking around half-dressed with an innocent smile on your face as you stepped in front of the TV, interrupting whatever college football game he happened to be watching with a simple Hi, Bradshaw. He lived for the chase and would do stupid, dangerous things for the reward.
“Bradley,” you whisper, and it elicits another moan from him, one that is throaty and deep, "Make me cum, please,"
He wants to keep teasing you, wants to make you wait so badly, wants to make you yell out his name desperately as he edges you. But he can't—not this morning—not when you look so, so pretty laid out underneath him, like a fucking angel, he thinks to himself.
"I've got you, pretty honey," he leans down to press his chest into yours, relishing in the feeling of your hard nipples pressed into his heated skin, "don't have to do a thing, sweet girl, just feel how deep that cock is inside you, okay? Can you do that for me?"
"Oh, Bradley," you whine, crying out at the feeling of his shaft hitting parts of you that hurt so goddamn good. Parts of you that made tears prick at the corners of your eyes, made your toes curl and your heart pound out of your chest.
He's close too, he can never stop talking the closer to release he gets. "That's it, baby, tell me who's making you feel good. Tell me whose cock is gonna make you cum." his words are filthy as he chases his orgasm alongside yours.
You would tell him anything he wanted to hear right now, confess your deepest darkest secrets if he asked.
"It's you, Rooster" you moan. "Always you, only you. No one else can fuck me like you Rooster, please. Please." you plead desperately, you're so close to cumming and it's driving you insane, making your skin tingle all over as you stand over the edge waiting to jump.
Bradley's mind goes blank at your words, he can't do anything but continue to fuck you deeper, soaking in your praise before it shoots straight into his pelvis and grips him tight.
You hold on to him tightly as you cum, holding him as close as possible as you grind against him, body moving instinctually at this point to chase the most pleasure possible, to milk every last ounce of euphoria you can from him.
Bradley's own gratification is close, he knew it was the moment he felt your pussy start pulsing around his cock as you came. He was absolutely basking in every little noise coming from as you came undone underneath him, he loved watching you come apart, loved that he was the one doing it.
"I want it, baby," you preen underneath him, shocking him out of his reverie and snapping his attention to the fucked out expression on your face, "need to feel you cum inside me Bradley, please, baby. Need it so, so bad, honey."
He growls and you know that did it. The deep, raspy noise coming from him as he spills inside you makes you clench down on his shaft, hard. The feeling of your cum soaked pussy clenching around him makes Bradley curse into your ear. Makes him thrust hard into your sensitive hole as he groans out your name.
When you still, the two of you are slick with a fine layer of sweat, bellies moving in tandem as you fight desperately to fill your lungs and steady your heartbeats.
If there's one thing Bradley loves, it's the afterglow. He could lie on top of you with his cock soft inside your velvet walls for hours. Wouldn't move if he didn't have the unfortunate human need for food and water. On rare occasions, Bradley would be so relaxed post-orgasm, he would doze off on your chest, his breath coming out in gentle puffs over your skin as you pet the top of his head, basking in the sight of him bare and malleable underneath you.
"I think breakfast might be a little cold, baby," he says with a smile, gazing up at you with a look you could only describe as smitten.
"Shame," you tut, and your hand grips his hair a little tight, nothing that hurt, nothing that no one but a top naval aviator would notice, a little twitch as you considered what to say next. "can I tell you a secret?" you're grinning now too.
"Spill it," his expression is giddy as he waits for your confession.
"I love doing this with you," you didn't mean to be earnest. You meant to say something witty, something funny.
But you couldn't, honesty pouring out of you like a tub overflowing with water. Like someone had turned on the faucet and walked away.
You see his expression soften before he's rolling the two of you over, his eyes never leaving yours as he brings the both of you to lay on your sides, mirroring the position you were in earlier this morning. Hands gripped tightly between each other, chests moving in tandem as you bring your faces impossibly close together.
"Me too, baby," he's smiling so sweetly it's making your stomach fill with butterflies "you have no idea."
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No Worse Pain
Requested: yes
Summary: Bradley has been extremely stressed at work lately. You don’t want to add to that by telling him about the pain you’re in.
Word count: 1.2k
Warnings: periods, cramps, pain.
Pairings: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x fem!reader
Stupid fucking period cramps. In your entire life, you couldn’t remember another time when you wished for the pain to dissipate this badly. You felt like sobbing. For the past three hours, you had been curled up on the couch, hands clutching your lower waist desperately. You hadn’t had period cramps this bad for years. While you weren’t exactly sure what caused the pain to be this intense, you were silently praying that it would disappear soon.
Another wave of pain rolled through you, causing you to curl up even further and hiss quietly. Normally, Bradley would be curled up right behind you. Only, this week, he was conveniently so busy at work that even as the clock struck 11:00 pm, he was still nowhere close to coming home. So, you were left to find a way to deal with the cramps yourself.
However, nothing was working. You had taken painkillers and had a hot water bottle pressed against your lower stomach. And yet you still couldn’t find any relief. There was a random show playing in the background, but you couldn’t focus enough to make sense of it. You were so out of it that you didn’t even hear the crunch of your finance’s tires as he pulled into the driveway. Nor did you hear the door open with a loud creak.
It felt as if there was a 100-pound weight on his shoulders as Bradley stepped through the door and into your shared home. He hated the fact that he was only coming home to you this late at night. Usually, he was home in time for the two of you to share dinner. Lately, however, he had been coming home later and later. Over the past few weeks, Bradley’s workload had increased tenfold. He had stacks upon stacks of paperwork, plus training, and he was up for a new promotion.
The added stress had put a small strain on your relationship. A few arguments had been caused by Bradley’s newly added stress. However, they had been small and had quickly blown over. Now, as he kicked his heavy boots off and dropped his backpack onto the floor, all he wanted was to be with you.
He walked around the corner, ready to be greeted with the sight of you with your hair tossed up in a messy bun, pyjamas on and binging some new show that he had never heard of. But what he saw had him freezing for a second. The show was playing, just like how he had imagined, but you were balled up on the couch, whimpering quietly and turned away from the TV.
“Honey?” The second you heard his voice you were trying to hide the fact that you were in pain. With everything that Bradley had going on at work, you didn’t want to add more to his load. He immediately rushed forward and crouched down beside you. “Is everything okay?” The soothing feeling of his hand gently caressing your side had you wanting to burst into tears. Your emotions really were a wreck right now.
After taking a moment to compose yourself, you rolled over with what you hoped was a reassuring smile. “All good, baby. How was your day?” You silently pleaded that changing the topic would work. He hesitated for a moment, searching your face for any sign of pain before he relented.
“It was alright. Stressful as usual,” Somehow, that only made you feel worse. Knowing that Bradley had such a terrible day, the thought of him having to come home, expecting to relax, and having to deal with your pain instead made you feel uneasy. He noticed you wince when you shifted, your hand grasping your lower stomach. “Are you sure everything’s okay?”
Regardless of the pain, you plastered a smile on your face. Bradley seemed to accept your single nod and dropped the subject. Wordlessly, you stood from the couch and made your way to the bedroom, Bradley hot on your heels.
Getting ready for bed was a hard task when you were trying to mask how much pain you were in. You could tell that Bradley was still suspicious, but you were grateful that he didn’t say anything. You disappeared into the bathroom, popping a few more painkillers into your mouth and finished your business.
Bradley was sitting on the bed when you returned. You could only smile at him, kissing his cheek as you climbed into bed. The soft cry that escaped you as you sat down had Bradley’s head snapping over to you. He cooed softly as he wrapped his arms around you and held you against his chest. You began crying softly, hating the fact that you were putting additional stress on your fiance. “Honey, it’s okay.” He attempted to soothe you quietly, but your tears only fell harder.
“Darlin’, please,” Your fiance pleaded quietly, asking, begging you to tell him what was hurting you. “Just let me in.” His forehead knocked against yours and you could feel the love and sincerity rolling off him in waves. He wanted you to open up to him. He wanted you to share that with him. So you nodded.
You took in a breath and began explaining yourself. “I got my period this morning. You were already at work,” You noted when you saw that Bradley was confused. “Everything was fine until this evening. Then I got really bad cramps and nothing I did worked. It really hurts.” You whimpered quietly. Sighing, your fiance hugged you tighter and ran his fingers through your hair gently.
Even though you had told him what was hurting you, he knew that there was something you were still holding back. Bradley simply held you, waiting for you to open up on your own. And when you spoke, Bradley was shocked at the words that came out of your mouth. “But even though it hurt that bad, the hardest part was not telling you.” Your head was resting on his chest and the room was so quiet that you could hear his heartbeat pick up at his words.
Given the promotion that he was up against, you really didn't want to draw his focus away from his work. You knew how much Bradley wanted this and you would never be able to forgive yourself if you were the reason that he didn’t get it.
It took your fiance a few seconds to form a response. “I’m sorry that you’re in pain, princess. Lay down, let me help you.” You obeyed, shuffling under the covers and letting Bradley maneuver you. He moved you until you were laying on your side with Bradley spooning you from behind. The feeling of his warm hands sitting on your lower stomach had you almost moaning in relief. Even though you had tried all night to dilute the pain, the second Bradley’s hand hit your skin, you felt a thousand times better.
There was a silent communication between the two of you as you both drifted off to sleep, wrapped in each other's arms. No matter how busy or stressed Bradley was, you could share anything with him. It didn’t matter how big or small the problem, he wanted to know.
a/n: Hope you all enjoy! Thank you for reading and requests are open :)
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Three Generations - Rooster
Pairing: Rooster / Fem!Reader (Wife!Reader)
Word Count: 2.2k
Warnings: Rooster is a Dad; Female Reader with No Name or Physical Description, No Y/N, Third Person POV; OC Bradshaw Kid without Physical Description (minus a reference to his smile being similar to Rooster's)
This work, all of my other works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only.
Summary: Rooster is married. Maverick found out when the paperwork got filed with the Navy, but he doesn’t have a chance to ask Rooster about it until after the mission
Master List
Sequel: A Day with Duckie
Maverick remembered the text that he received from Ice about four years prior to the mission.
The kid’s married.
Three little words that felt like bullets straight to Maverick’s heart. Bradley was married. Married. Maverick shouldn’t have been surprised, really. Bradley was more than old enough for marriage. Especially for a naval officer. But it still hurt, it still stung that he wasn’t there to see it.
Ice gave him Rooster’s wife’s name but he couldn’t find many photos of the two of them together. Rooster’s wife’s profiles were all set to private, but Maverick did find some photos posted by one of the bridesmaids. He printed them out and hung them up in his hangar, next to his old photos of Rooster. Even if he cried like a baby while he did it.
It wasn’t until after the mission, when they were sitting alone in their hospital room together, that Maverick had a chance to ask Rooster about his wife.
“You got married?” Maverick asked Rooster quietly.
Maverick gestured to his own left ring finger, which made Rooster fiddle with his gold band. Staring down at his wedding ring for a moment, Rooster tried to figure out how to respond properly to Maverick’s question. Nodding slowly, Rooster turned back to Maverick.
“Yeah, I did,” Rooster answered quietly.
“Congratulations,” Maverick replied softly.
“Thank you,” Rooster returned, fiddling with his ring again.
“How did you meet?”
“She was in the Navy. She worked in intelligence, though. We met through mutual friends and I asked her out. We went on a date to a karaoke bar and never looked back,” Rooster explained, smiling at the memories. “I asked her to marry me about two years after that.”
“And you’re happy?”
“Extremely,” Rooster replied without missing a beat. “Her and Kai, they’re my whole life.”
“Kai?” Maverick asked curiously.
Rooster, seemingly realizing his slip, shrunk a bit into himself. He looked nervous. Incredibly nervous. Fiddling with his wedding band again, Rooster slowly turned back to Maverick.
“Kai is my son.”
“You’re a dad?” Maverick asked, unable to stop the emotion from dripping into his tone.
Not only had Maverick missed Rooster’s wedding, but he also missed the birth of Rooster’s child, and all of the little milestones along the way. And that ache in his chest quietly intensified, though Maverick tried to not let it show.
“Yeah, I am.”
Rooster reached for his phone, pulled up a photo, and passed his phone over to Maverick. He grabbed Rooster’s phone and stared down at the photo. And Maverick would have been lying if he said that he didn’t get a little choked up at the sight of it.
Rooster and a woman that Maverick knew was Rooster’s wife were standing together with a little baby boy sandwiched between them. A little boy that had his father’s smile—albeit one with a few missing teeth—and a matching Hawaiian shirt. Rooster’s wife smiled widely at the camera with her cheek smushed against the top of her son’s head.
And Rooster looked happier in that photo than Maverick had seen him since before Carole passed, even though Rooster wasn’t looking in the direction of the camera. No, Rooster was far too busy smiling at his little family.
“Are they coming to see you?” Maverick asked, handing the phone back to Rooster.
“Yeah, uh, their flight lands tomorrow morning. Phoenix said that she would pick them up from the airport and bring them here,” Rooster explained, placing his phone aside. Rooster paused before turning back to Maverick. “And . . . can you . . . can you not mention the part about me defying a direct order and everything that happened afterwards?”
“I won’t,” Maverick promised, earning a thankful nod from Rooster. “But, at some point, Brad, I think that you should be honest with her about it. As much as you can, given the sensitive information, anyways. Not that I’m in any position to give anyone marriage advice but . . . you should be honest with your wife.”
“I will,” Rooster returned quietly. “It’s just that she gets really stressed when I’m in the hospital. I don’t want to overwhelm her.”
“Are you scared about her reaction?”
“A little bit,” Rooster admitted honestly.
Maverick chuckled, reminiscing about how Goose always looked when he was worried about telling Carole about whatever shenanigans they got into back in the day.
“I’m sure that you’ll be fine.”
~~~~~
Maverick and Rooster were discharged from the hospital the next day.
Phoenix, along with Rooster’s wife and Kai, were supposed to pick them up. Rooster spotted Phoenix’s car and walked after it. The passenger door flew open and Rooster’s wife. She walked around the car to see that Phoenix was helping Kai out of the back seat.
Kai slid out of Phoenix’s car and immediately perked up when he spotted his dad quickly making his way over. But knowing her son, Rooster’s wife snatched him by the back of his shirt before he could run out into the parking lot.
“You have to hold Mommy’s hand when you’re in the parking lot,” she reminded her son.
She looked up and down the road before leading Kai across it. But once Kai safely stepped up onto the sidewalk, she released his hand and let Kai run to Rooster.
“Daddy!” Kai yelled happily, running into Rooster’s waiting arms.
Bradley bent down and scooped Kai up. Holding Kai to his chest, Rooster pressed a kiss to Kai’s hair as he rocked his son back and forth in his arms. Almost like Rooster was trying to soothe himself with his son’s presence.
“I missed you so much, Kai.”
Rooster pressed another kiss to Kai’s head before turning to his wife. She looked like she was trying to hold it together and just barely managing it. But when she caught Rooster’s gaze, she let some more emotion show. Wordlessly, Rooster held out an arm to her and she immediately ran into his embrace, officially reuniting the family of three.
“I’m alright,” Rooster assured her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “I’m okay.”
As Rooster reassured his wife and son that he was fine, Maverick walked around them to stand beside Phoenix. After his wife and Kai were soothed, Rooster turned to introduce them to Maverick.
“Guys, this is Maverick. Mav, this is my wife,” Rooster stated, wrapping his arm around his wife’s waist.
“The man who pulled your papers?” Rooster’s wife asked sharply. Maverick winced at her tone.
“We got past that,” Rooster assured his wife, which caused her to immediately relax.
“Well, it’s nice to finally meet you then,” she replied with a much warmer tone. Rooster’s wife walked over to give Maverick a proper hug that Maverick was happy to return. “And to put a face to the name after all the stories.”
“It’s nice to meet you as well,” Maverick replied, releasing Rooster’s wife.
“And this is my son, Kai,” Rooster added, bouncing his son lightly on his arm. Smiling at his son with complete and utter adoration, Rooster nudged him in the side. “Kai, this is Maverick.”
“Hi,” Maverick greeted Kai softly.
“Hi,” Kai returned shyly, resting his head on Rooster’s shoulder.
“Mav’s a pilot like me,” Rooster explained to his son, causing Kai to pick his head up again. “And he used to fly around with your Grandpa Goose.”
“Really?” Kai asked his dad, earning a nod from Rooster.
Kai stared over at Maverick with newfound curiosity and Maverick tried to not choke up at the clear similarities between Kai and Rooster. Kai wasn’t so much his dad’s twin, but he had that same expression and look in his eye that Maverick saw all the time on a younger Bradley. Offering a small encouraging smile to Kai, Maverick decided to approach.
“Yeah, your Grandpa Goose used to sit in my back seat,” Maverick replied, nodding along. “And he was the best at what he did.” Trying to not burst out into tears at the fact that he was talking about Goose while Baby Goose was holding Grandbaby Goose, Maverick managed a small smile. “Your grandpa’s callsign was Goose. Your dad’s is Rooster. What bird do you want as your callsign, Kai?”
“Mommy calls me ‘Duckie’,” Kai informed Maverick, ending his sentence with a giggle.
“Yes, because he’s impossible to pull out of the water once he’s in,” Rooster explained, shaking his head playfully at his son. “And he pretends that he can’t hear us.”
“No,” Kai giggled, clearly lying.
“He’s also a great liar,” Rooster quipped, tickling Kai’s stomach.
Kai squealed and pushed his dad’s hand away, but he couldn’t stop giggling. And Maverick tried to not burst out into tears again. Baby Goose had a baby. The little baby that he used to babysit and take for extra ice cream had a little baby of his own now.
God, Maverick was getting old.
~~~~~
After spending the day with the rest of the Dagger Squad, Maverick and the Bradshaw family of three retired to Maverick’s quaint residence in town. Rooster grew up in the house after Carole’s death and his old bedroom was perfectly preserved from that time.
It was only about a half an hour before Kai’s bedtime when Rooster approached Maverick in the kitchen.
“Can you watch Kai for a second?”
“Yeah, of course,” Maverick agreed, nodding along immediately. “But why? Where are you going?”
“I just thought that I should tell her,” Rooster explained, keeping his voice low. “There were too many close calls as it was with the rest of the Dagger Squad, so I need to tell her. About the mission and . . . my little stunt.”
“The couch is very comfortable,” Maverick joked, earning a tired sigh from Rooster. “You’ll be fine.”
“I hope so,” Rooster replied, straightening up.
Rooster thanked Maverick before the two rejoined Kai and Rooster’s wife out in the living room. Rooster managed to find an old Connect 4 game in the cabinet and his wife tried to teach Kai how to play. They were sitting around the coffee table with Kai studying the layout closely.
“Can I play with you, Kai?” Maverick asked, moving to sit down beside Kai.
“Yeah,” he mumbled, not taking his eye off of the board.
Maverick saw Rooster lean down to whisper something in his wife’s ear before she nodded. Turning to Kai, Rooster’s wife leaned over and tapped him on the shoulder, causing Kai to look up.
“Behave for Maverick, okay?”
“Okay, Mommy.”
Rooster and his wife got up and headed out of the room to talk. Kai turned to Maverick once his parents were out of sight.
“Why did they leave?”
“They just needed to talk about some things. Adult things. Nothing fun,” Maverick stated, causing Kai to nod with a slight pout. Maverick moved to take the seat that Rooster’s wife was sitting in and picked up a yellow piece. “Did you take a plane to get over here, Kai?”
“Yeah,” Kai stated, smiling up at Maverick.
“Do you like flying?”
“Yeah.”
“Has your dad ever taken you flying before?” Kai shook his head dramatically, causing Maverick to nod along. “You just fly with your mom then?”
“Yeah. Daddy gets scared,” Kai informed Maverick, leaning on the coffee table.
“Well, it’s a little scary when you’re a pilot and someone else is flying the plane,” Maverick replied, very well acquainted with the control freak tendencies that popped up when a naval aviator flew commercial. “And your daddy just wants to make sure that you and everyone else is safe.”
“Mommy tells him to relax,” Kai replied, emphasizing the word with a wave of his hand.
Kai must have seen his mom do that exact routine at least a thousand times because he seemed to know the part by heart. He had the expression, the wave of his hand, and the tone down perfectly. Maverick couldn’t help but laugh.
“Does he listen to her?” Maverick quipped, failing at hiding his amusement.
“Sometimes,” Kai answered with a giggle.
“Like you?”
“Yeah.”
Maverick was about to ask Kai another question when Rooster’s wife’s voice echoed around the house. The door to Rooster’s old bedroom did little to muffle the shock and sheer incredulousness of Rooster’s wife’s question.
“You did what!?”
“Have you ever seen the moon, Kai?” Maverick asked the toddler, quickly getting up to his feet.
“Yeah,” Kai replied as Maverick scooped him up into his arms.
“Well, looking again wouldn’t hurt,” Maverick reasoned, setting Kai on his hip. “And maybe we’ll even see a few stars too.”
“Oh-kay,” Kai agreed with a sigh, laying his head on Maverick’s shoulder.
“And where was your brain during all of this!?” Rooster’s wife snapped loudly.
“Yeah, let’s go look at the stars, Kai,” Maverick stated quickly, hurrying out the back door.
“Was that Mommy?” Kai asked, staring back at the house.
“No, I don’t think it was her.”
Sequel: A Day with Duckie
#bradley bradshaw imagine#bradley rooster x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw fic#bradley bradshaw fanfiction#bradley bradsaw x reader#bradley bradshaw#rooster x wife!reader#rooster x reader#rooster fanfic#tgm fanfiction#tgm#top gun fanfiction#top gun maverick#top gun: maverick#pete maverick mitchell#top gun fic#rooster top gun#top gun#top gun rooster
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Something Worth Remembering
Summary: You were hopeful that you’d be moved into your new house before Christmas, but after another renovation delay, that’s not in the cards. To your credit, you make the most of the situation, and Bradley falls in love with you even more because of it. But he’s determined to make your first Christmas together special, and sets out to plan a surprise that ensures the holiday will be one both of you will always remember.
Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Reader (no use of y/n)
(can be read as Forgetful Boy and Pumpkin from RYEWID, but not necessary to read that first)
Word Count: 3.7K
Warnings: Warm fuzzy Hallmark feelings. Language. Allusions to smut.
Notes: Some holiday action for my faves. Written for @bellaireland1981's Winter RomCom Challenge with the prompt "home for the holidays”. Also as part of The Forgotten Moments Collection, but can very much be read by itself.
—---
____
Bradley stopped short when he walked through the front door, eyes widening as he took in the scene in front of him.
“Um…Pumpkin?”
“You’re home!”
You popped up so suddenly from the other side of the counter in the kitchen that he jumped slightly in surprise. “Am I?” he asked slowly, closing the door behind him and bending down to unlace and take off his boots. You laughed brightly as you stepped around some of the shopping bags on the floor to get to him. He accepted the kiss from you eagerly, feeling the stress from another work day dissipate as he wrapped his arms around you.
“Contractors called,” you told him once you pulled back, resting a hand on his chest. Your ring sparkled in the light streaming in through the open curtains, and Bradley couldn’t help but smile before he registered the words. “There’s a delay with the electrician and the flooring.”
Bradley groaned, the familiar annoyance of hearing the word “delay” coursing through him. The home the two of you had purchased was a fixer upper, tucked into the end of a cul de sac in a neighborhood not too far from base. There was work that needed to be done to make it everything you wanted, but neither of you had anticipated all the headaches that would come along with that. It would be a long project, you knew, but the contractor you had hired had promised it would at least be livable within the first few weeks.
That had been nearly two months ago now, and the delays kept piling up. Barely anything had been done at this point, and he knew he’d have to call the administrative office tomorrow to extend the lease on the on-base apartment, again.
“Of course there is.”
You smiled gently, and Bradley couldn’t help but let some of the annoyance slip away at the soft look on your face. He took a deep breath and let himself relax, pressing a kiss to your forehead before releasing you. He gestured to the tiny apartment the Navy had provided you with, smaller than the shoebox you had called home back in DC, that definitely did not look like what it did when he left for work this morning.
“Is that why it suddenly looks like Christmas threw up in here?”
You threw your head back as you giggled. The sound caused a full blown smile to cross Bradley’s face, warming him from the inside out.
“I was holding out hope that we would be able to spend Christmas in our new house, even if it’s not finished. But since the electrician’s are delayed, the floor people can’t come until the 28th. So I decided to finally cave and decorate here instead. But I didn’t want to spend a bunch of money on nice decorations, because I want to save that for when we’re completely moved in next year.”
“So…”
“So I may or may not have bought out a good portion of the Dollar Tree Christmas aisle, and spent way too long deciding on white lights or multicolored lights for the $20 table top tree that I bought.”
Bradley laughed loudly, looking around your temporary home once again. Red and green and gold covered the minimal available surfaces, and a small lopsided tree sat on the corner table in the living room, a bag of what he assumed to be decorations sitting beside it. Your cat, Florry, was curled up on top of a pile of bright green garland on the floor.
"Who needs a fancy new house when we can have our own little tacky winter wonderland right here?"
Your eyes sparkled with delight as you spoke, clearly thrilled by the idea, or at least incredibly amused by it. Bradley knew that Christmas was your favorite holiday, and how much you loved the festive season. This would be the first one you ever spent together. When you had toured the house months ago, you had pointed out the perfect place for a tree and where certain decorations could go. You had been so excited to spend the holiday in your new home. As the delays started coming in you had adjusted just how grandiose your plans would be, but you had taken it in stride. Now you were only six days out from Christmas itself and you were once again just making the best of the situation that neither of you could control.
Not for the first time, he wondered how he had gotten so lucky.
"Alright, Pumpkin," he said, "Let me go change, and then I’ll help you make this the tackiest, most magical Christmas ever."
You grinned at him, a mischievous spark in your eyes. "Challenge accepted."
_____
The Dagger Squad had an impromptu and unofficial holiday party the next night at the Hard Deck, and it still blew Bradley away seeing you intermixed so perfectly with his friends, both old and new. You floated from conversation to conversation and when he wasn’t by your side, he watched you with a smile on his face. He knew you were perfect for him, but seeing you fitting in like this just reaffirmed it.
“How’s the house coming along?”
He looked over at Mav as he leant against the bar beside him, handing him a fresh beer. He was still getting used to being around his godfather after all this time, but they had settled into a peaceful kind of hesitancy as they relearned what it meant to be in the other’s life, and it was nice, even if Bradley had to remind himself to breathe sometimes.
“Slowly.”
His tone must have relayed how he was feeling because Mav shot him a sympathetic wince. “Another delay?”
“Yup.” Bradley let out a frustrated sigh as he ran a hand through his hair. “They can’t get the electricians in until tomorrow, which is when the flooring was supposed to go in. So now that got pushed to after Christmas”
Mav clasped a hand on Bradley's shoulder, offering a supportive squeeze. "It'll all come together eventually. How’s she taking it?”
He snorted as he brought the drink to his lips, taking another sip. “She handles stress and shit like this better than anyone I know.”
Mav smiled, nodding in what looked like approval. “You got yourself a good one.”
Bradley hummed his agreement and let his eyes stray to you, chuckling softly when he saw you dancing with Nat. Sometime in the last few minutes, you had stolen the Santa hat that Coyote had arrived with, the red and white material perched on your head. You twirled around with his best friend to the Christmas song playing over the jukebox, laughing merrily. You really did love this time of year.
You had told him that you didn’t care where you spent the holiday, so long as you were together. It was your first Christmas together, after all. But Bradley still felt guilty over not being able to get you into the house sooner. You had only been married for a few months, and you had given up your whole entire life to move out to California when he got permanently assigned here. It’s a decision you would make again and again, he knew, but he still wished there was something he could do, too. You had made far more sacrifices than he had. He wanted this holiday to be special. Memorable.
You were just a little bit tipsy when you got back to the apartment that night. You had clung to Bradley’s arm with both of yours the whole way up to the third floor from the parking lot, but the moment you walk through the door, you’re releasing him to go plug in the tiny table top tree. You plug in the string lights lining the kitchen counters next, humming a christmas song he can’t quite place under your breath as you do. You turned to him once the space was illuminated, the soft golden glow highlighting your smile.
“Pretty nice, huh? These cheap decorations aren’t so bad - I may just keep them for the new house, too.”
Your ability to make the most of everything made his heart stutter. He was in front of you in only three quick strides, one hand landing on your hip while the other cupped your face. He bent to connect your lips in a kiss. He could still taste the peppermint from the candy cane you sucked on on the ride home, and the taste of the champagne Penny had broken out at the end of the night for a toast. You didn’t hesitate to wrap your arms around him and return the kiss, both of you getting so lost in it that by the time he pulled away, he was panting.
“You must really like the cheap decor,” you breathed, and Bradley huffed out a laugh at your joke.
“I just really like you,” he quipped, and he enjoyed how a shiver went through your body at his response.
As you changed into pajamas and settled on the couch together, an idea started forming in his head. He thought he might know just what to do to make this holiday memorable for you after all.
_____
“Are you sure you don’t mind me running out for a bit?” you asked for what was probably the tenth time as you slid your sweater on over your head. Bradley groaned to himself as your body was covered from his view as he lounged in bed. He had been watching you get ready, enjoying not for the first time how getting dressed was almost always the last step in your process.
“I’m positive,” he said, also for the tenth time. You gave him a dubious look and he couldn’t help but laugh. “Pumpkin, I promise it’s okay.”
“I know, but it’s our first Christmas Eve together!”
Bradley moved so he was sitting on the edge of the bed, holding his arms open. You stepped between his spread legs and let your hands rest on his shoulders as he looked up at you, squeezing your sides through your red sweater. “Technically, it’s Christmas Eve morning. And I think you getting brunch with Nat and Coyote’s wife will be nice for you. You’ve been so busy with work and the move that you haven’t really had time to make friends.”
“I was already friends with Nat.”��
He rolled his eyes at you fondly. “You know what I mean.”
You sighed again, fingers playing with the hair on the back of his head in the way that always calmed him down, even when he wasn’t feeling stressed out. He thought maybe the motion soothed you, too. “I think it’ll be fun.”
“Yeah,” you admitted slowly, nodding hesitantly. “I do too.”
“Then go. Have fun. I’ll be here when you get back, and we’ll spend Christmas Eve together. The morning doesn’t count.”
You snorted, but nodded nonetheless. He accepted the kiss you gave him right as your phone started ringing from the bedside table. Nat was there to pick you up, just like he had requested her to when he asked for her help with pulling off this surprise by getting you out of the apartment for a few hours today.
He gave it ten minutes after you had left before he jumped up and started taking down all of the decorations you had strewn throughout the apartment. It was easy work considering how small the place was, only taking him a few trips to and from the Bronco. He grabbed the small tree last, carrying it delicately so that none of the ornaments fell off and wouldn’t have to be reconstructed.
It didn’t take too long to get to the house at the end of the cul de sac that was now in both of your names, traffic light despite the holiday. He let himself in with the key that was still shiny with how new it was. He let out a sigh of relief when he flipped the switch and the overhead light in the living room actually turned on - with everything that had gone on, he wouldn’t have been all that surprised if it hadn’t. He made quick work of bringing in everything from the car, including the items that he had purchased and kept in the trunk without you seeing them this week.
He knew he had limited time, as Nat could only commit to a few hours of keeping you distracted, but it would be more than enough with what he needed to do. His phone buzzed right as he was finishing up a little more than an hour later, your name flashing up at him.
Pumpkin🧡: Getting the check! Back soon❤️
He sent back a response telling you he’d see you soon, quickly finishing up. He locked the door behind him and jogged to the Bronco parked in the driveway, and he was only back at the apartment for less than 10 minutes when you walked in the door with a large smile on your face that quickly morphed into horrified confusion.
“What happened to our decorations?”
“Hey, Pumpkin. How was brunch?”
“Were we robbed?”
Bradley barked out a laugh, shaking his head at your wide eyes. “Of our dollar tree Christmas decorations?”
You just gestured wildly around the space, devoid of any hint of the holiday cheer that had existed in its space earlier in the day. He laughed again, closing the distance to where you stood at the still open front door. He reached around you to push it closed before pulling you into him. He kissed your forehead, your nose, and then finally your lips, pursued in an adorable pout. “We weren’t robbed,” he assured you. “But I do have a present for you. Go get changed.”
“What?”
He squeezed your hips, smiling warmly. “Trust me?”
You eyed him closely for a moment before your pout eventually settled into a soft grin, and you let out a long sigh before you nodded. “Always.”
He kissed you again, a little deeper this time, but pulled away before he could get totally lost in it. “Pajamas are on the bed.”
“Pajamas? It’s 2pm!”
He only chuckled in response, playfully smacking your butt when you started walking back toward the bedroom. “Trust me.”
You got even more suspicious when you emerged from the bedroom and saw that he had Florry in her carrier at the door and had changed into his own pajamas. He twirled his keys around his fingers and then held open the door for you. Once you were in the Bronco, cat meowing at your feet, he held out a red silk piece of cloth that made your eyebrows shoot up.
“Seriously? A blindfold?”
“Think of it like a Christmas adventure. Now let me put it on.”
You huffed a breath but he knew you weren't actually mad - you loved surprises, and there was a smile tugging at your lips as you turned to allow him to tie the silk at the back of your head. He kissed your hair when he was done and turned to start the vehicle.
“You know,” you said casually, just as Bradley was pulling out of the parking lot, “this blindfold might come in handy later. We should make sure the headboard we pick out has appropriate accommodations.”
He groaned at the implication, a flush creeping up his neck on instinct. You giggled happily, knowing the effect you had on him. He rested a hand on your thigh as he drove, yours covering his in a familiar move. The feeling of your ring on his skin was one he had grown to love in the last few months since you’ve gotten married.
You threw out guesses the entire drive over, each one more extravagant and ludicrous than the one before. By the time he pulled into the driveway that one day will be an everyday occurrence, he was grinning so hard that his cheeks were starting to hurt.
“Don’t move,” he said when he saw you reach for the door handle. He jogged around the Bronco to the passenger side, opening your door. He helped you down before reaching back in for Florry’s carrier, pressing it into your hands so you could carry her, while he focused on you.
"Alright, Pumpkin," he whispered, his voice laced with eagerness. "Keep your blindfold on, and I'll guide you." His hand tightened around yours as he led you out of the car and towards the front door of your new home. Excitement coursed through him as he thought about your reaction, and he loved that he knew instinctively that it would be positive.
He loved that he knew you so well.
“Stay here just a second,” he instructed once he got you through the door. He moved away from you to quickly plug everything in, coming back to you once the room was cast both in the sunlight streaming through the windows and the artificial LED lights.
He stood in front of you, a grin playing on his lips as he watched you fidget with anticipation. Your blindfold was still securely in place, blocking your vision from the surprise he had prepared. You were so damn beautiful, and he would never understand how he got lucky enough to call himself yours.
"Okay, baby," he said softly. He gently took the carrier out of your hands, setting it on the floor and letting the cat out to wander the new space that he had cleared of anything that might hurt her, before moving to stand behind you. Your back flush against his front, he moved his hands up your arms in a smooth caress, settling on your shoulders and squeezing in affection. "You can take off the blindfold now."
With trembling hands, you reached up and slipped the silk cloth from your eyes, revealing the scene before you. Gasping in awe, your eyes widened as you took in the sight that unfolded in the living room.
“Oh my God. Bradley.”
The room was still very much a construction zone, but he had moved all of the decorations from the apartment, plus a few more that he had gotten, to decorate the barren space. The tree you had bought sat on the floor in the corner. Blankets lined the unfinished floors, as well as humongous cotton puffs to replicate snow. An air mattress covered with bright red sheets and a green blanket was in the middle of the room. Everything looked straight out of a tacky high school Christmas play, but it was so bad that it was almost good - whimsical and unique.
He watched as you took it all in, feeling his heart beating double time in his chest. When you turned to face him, there was a wide smile on your face, and tears shining in your pretty eyes. You didn’t have to ask for him to know what you were thinking.
“I wanted our first Christmas together to be in our home, even if it’s not finished yet. I figured we could camp out for the day. You-” The words were knocked out of him as you launched yourself into his arms. He held you for a long moment, pressing a kiss into your hair as your laughter settled. “You deserve something special, Pumpkin,” he finally finished, voice softer than it had been.
You pulled back just far enough to meet his eyes, your hands cupping his face. “All I need is you, baby. You know that?”
He turned his head just slightly to press a kiss into your palm, nodding once. “I do.” A smirk twitched at his lips, his mustache twitching with the expression. “Does that mean you want me to pack all this up and return your gifts, too?”
The gasp you let out was damn near scandalized. "Oh, no you don't!" you playfully swatted at his chest. You motioned toward the tacky decorations with a mischievous grin. "We can't let these go to waste. It's our first Christmas, after all."
Bradley chuckled, arms secure around you. "It sure is," he whispered, his voice filled with affection. He leaned down to capture your lips in a sweet kiss, the taste of anticipation lingering.
“Besides,” you murmured quietly, your eyes sparkling with a familiar look that had him warming from the inside out. “This gives us a jump start on christening the place. That air mattress looks mighty comfortable.”
Desire flared through him, and he wasted no time in scooping you up in his arms, carrying you bridal-style towards the makeshift bed. Your laughter echoed in the space as he laid you down.
“You know I’m gonna make you pack all of this back up and put it back up in the apartment until at least New Years, right?” you asked him, slightly breathless as he moved his kisses from your lips down to your neck, nipping at the skin.
Bradley chuckled, his hands pushing your shirt up, revealing soft skin that he loved to touch. “Oh, of that I have no doubt.”
Later, you lay nestled together underneath the green blanket, the crackling sound of a virtual fireplace playing from his laptop on the floor beside you while Christmas music played lightly from your phone. You were basking in the glow of the makeshift display as your breathing calmed. You pressed a kiss to his chest, right over his beating heart. He was sure that it skipped a beat at the gesture, but if you noticed, you didn’t comment on it.
“I can’t wait until we’re in here for good,” you whispered instead.
He hummed in response, tracing lazy patterns on your bare back. “Me too.”
You snorted after another moment, propping your head up to meet his eyes. “Hell of a first memory to make here, don’t you think?”
Bradley laughed lightly, a contented smile spreading across his face. It certainly was, in all of the best ways. “I’ll remember this forever,” he said, voice filled with warmth and conviction, because he couldn’t fathom ever forgetting any moment with you, especially something as perfect as this.
--------------
Main Masterlist :: The Forgotten Moments Masterlist
Notes: It's been far too long since I wrote anything for these two. I hope you enjoyed it! Likes/comments/reblogs are always appreciated if you did🧡
Thanks to @roosterforme and @mak-32 for all their help!
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#alli writes#bradley bradshaw: forgetful boy#the forgotten moments#winterromcomchallenge#bradley bradshaw imagine#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw x oc#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw fanfiction#bradley bradshaw#rooster imagine#rooster x reader#rooster bradshaw#tgm fanfiction#tgm#rooster x you#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader#bradley rooster x reader#bradley rooster x y/n#bradley bradshaw x y/n#bradley bradshaw x female reader#bradley bradshaw x you
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In a Place Just Right
Summary: It's your first year hosting Thanksgiving in San Diego for the Daggers and Bradley can tell you're a little nervous about it. But he already knows it's going to be one for the books, because any holiday spent with you better than anything he could have imagined.
Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Female Reader
Length: 5K
Warnings: fluff and allusions to smut (minors dni)
(author's note: this fic is set in the 'Like I Can Universe', but can be read on it's own! Happy Thanksgiving, friends!)
For the last six years Penny has been the one to host Daggersgiving, but this year hostess duties had fallen on your plate. Needless to say, Bradley knew you were more than a little stressed about it.
When you had asked him about his opinion on the merits of canned cranberry sauce versus homemade he’d blinked at you a few times before asking, “Is this a thing people care about?”
He’ll never forget how adorably aghast you looked to learn that he had no preference on the matter. And maybe if you had asked him when the sun was up instead of at 3 AM he might have known better than to give you such a noncommittal answer.
“Both, we’ll have both,” you’d stated resolutely.
“Whatever you want, kid," he’d murmured as he’d pulled you to his chest and wrapped an arm around your stomach. His smart and beautiful wife. "Now go back to sleep, you’re supposed to be dreaming of sugarplums not cranberries."
“Wrong holiday, Bradley,” you’d sighed contentedly, relaxing against him. And it hadn’t taken you long to fall back asleep with that cranberry crisis having been averted.
But now people were due to show up in less than an hour and you are frantically fluttering and huffing around the kitchen like a madwoman in a very pretty green dress, "I knew that quickie was a bad idea. You're never quick, Bradley."
He’d been away and missed many holidays over the years due to his career.
Your mom had always made it clear that he had an open invitation to join in whatever merry festivities were happening with your family, but more often than not it rarely aligned with him being stationed all over the world. But he’d always been happy to get to have a phone call with you and eat the homemade cookies you’d sent him on those years spent apart.
But now Bradley got to look forward to spending every holiday with you in the home you shared with him.
Over the last week the house had slowly but surely transformed into something that was straight out of a magazine.
There was a display of pumpkins, ribbons, and a garland of strung dried orange slices that decorated the fireplace. And overpriced candles from your favorite store flickered cheerfully on every surface that wasn’t a fire hazard to a bunch of enthusiastic Naval aviators. The dining table was dressed up to the nines and everyone spot with their names painstakingly written in your pretty script on a place card sitting in a pinecone.
You had even made some oversized confetti in the shape of oak leaves out of some old books, the copy of ‘Why Men Love Bitches’ that Nat had given him years ago as a joke was finally repurposed and recycled into something more festive over where the beverages had been set up.
The whole house smells amazing. Warm cinnamons and nutmegs mixing with bright citrus and rich vanillas. The kitchen island and countertops were filled with various plates and platters and bowls of dips, charcuterie, fruit and vegetables, nuts, and other savories. All the other dishes were being kept warm in the ovens for when everyone arrived and was ready to settle around the dining table for dinner.
Bradley was positive that no one would leave feeling hungry. He also wasn’t entirely sure where the things his friends are bringing were going to go, but there were worse problems to have.
Penny had taken Amelia with her to visit her family on the East Coast. They’d decided it would probably be better for Mav to hang back in San Diego for the holiday, those tensions with her dad were still a bit strained even though they’d been married for almost four years now.
Which is how the Bradshaw’s were hosting their first Thanksgiving for everyone.
This morning had been organized chaos. Some of the last minute-things had only managed to be checked off with the assistance of strong coffee and a good playlist.
However, he’d still managed to sneak in the opportunity to spin you around the kitchen to your wedding song when it came up on shuffle. After all the cranberries were still popping and boiling down; there was time for it, he'd always make time for it.
But that was then.
Now, you are glaring at him like you’d been personally victimized by him and his cock.
“You complaining, sweet girl?” he asks with a smirk, leaning his hip against the kitchen island watching as you briskly stir the gravy heating up in the copper sauce pot on the stove. “Don’t think that’s what I was hearing thirty minutes ago when we had that pretty green dress of yours bunched around your hips. Sounded something like ‘more, Bradley, more’ to me.”
You shoot him a look that would make a weaker man wither, but he’s built up an immunity to it over a lifetime of having it directed at him.
“I think that’s quite enough out of you,” you reprimand, but he sees the amusement in your eyes even as you fight to keep the annoyed façade on your face. “We’re behind schedule now. I thought I buffered in enough time, just in case-”
“Just in case you begged me to give you an orgasm to, and I quote, ‘help me chill out’?”
“I was kidding,” you say, stopping your agitated whisking to go fluff the stuffing instead.
“All I’m saying is that if my beautiful wife is begging for me, I’m certainly not going to say no. I’m only human,” he says with an all too pleased shrug.
Bradley grabs the can opener and works on opening the canned cranberry sauce. He reaches for a couple plates, holding them up for your approval and you point to the one on the right. The scalloped white one with gold rim it'll be.
“For the record, I certainly did not beg,” you say primly, glowering into the homemade stuffing that you’d had him get the bread from the nice bakery across town for.
“Sure, sure,” he drawls, the smirk growing wider on his face as he sets to freeing the jelly from its rippled container.
He knows he shouldn’t tease you right now, but you’re so cute when you get huffy that he can’t help himself. He’s known that petulant raise of your chin his whole life. And sometimes when he looks at you he can so clearly see the little girl he’d been forced to entertain for hours when your moms were hanging out.
You went from being his favorite nuisance to his best friend to his everything.
“Do I still look ok? Or do I need to do a quick refresh before everyone gets here?” you ask. You turn to fully face him, tilting your head one way and then another for his inspection.
He would happily stare at you all day if you’d let him. He loves your pretty eyes and what you’ve done with your hair.
“You’re beautiful,” he grins, “And if anyone asks, we can just say you’re flushed from all the cooking.”
“Bradley,” you whine setting down your wooden spoon down on the counter with a sharp thwack.
“Ok, ok. I’m done, I promise,” he says putting his hands up in surrender with a chuckle.
He pushes off the counter and grabs a glass off of one of the floating shelves and fills it with some ice water.
“Good,” you tut haughtily, as you fiddle with the white and orange striped kitchen towel hanging on the oven door, “I was about to threaten to make you sleep on the couch tonight.”
“You wouldn’t.” Even the thought of it makes his stomach feel unsettled.
After nearly two decades of hard beds on foreign bases and on lumpy carrier mattresses, he’s never slept as well as he did since the two of you found your way to each other.
His peace was found under a fluffy green duvet on a wooden canopy bed with you tucked under his arm.
“No. No, I wouldn’t,” you agree, leaning in to place a soft kiss to his cheek in thanks when he presses the cold glass into your hands.
Bradley tugs you away from the warm stove and you reluctantly follow and sit on the barstool he’s pulled out for you on the other side of the kitchen island.
He runs his hand up and down your back comfortingly as you take a few sips, “We’re in a great place, sweet girl.”
“Mhm, yeah. Sure, of course.” You couldn’t sound less unsure if you tried. “It’s just… I’m nervous about the mushroom and leeks bread pudding. I’ve never made it before. And what if we run out of wine?”
“What’s been our motto?” he asks, taking over the helm at the stove whisking the gravy together as it begins to thicken.
“‘In Ina we trust’,” you say with a serious nod of your head.
“Atta girl, we sure do. And Nat said she’s is bringing a few bottles she picked up from when she went to Napa, the good shit. It’s going to be great. Trust me,” he says giving you a warm smile. “Will it make you feel better to go over everything again?”
“Yes, please,” you say, anxiously drumming your fingers along the side of your water glass.
He’d stepped up where he could like making sure the house was pristine and cleaning up the yard by blowing off the wrinkled remainders of the yellow Tipuana flowers. He’d even been able to source and rent some more chairs to make sure that everyone would have a seat at the table.
Bradley wasn’t a schlump in the kitchen. He knew his way around a cookbook and a stove. His knife skills were pretty damn good too, if he did say so himself. But he also knew when somethings were out of his wheelhouse. So he’d taken to being your sous chef, and had taken to washing and prepping the ingredients for you so that all you had to do was toss them in whatever shiny pot they were destined for.
He even made his mom’s favorite pie. It had been years since he's had it, and he was excited to share it with everyone.
Your mom had mailed the copy of the original recipe she had that was written in Carole’s rounded, flourished script. You had made a photocopy of it to use so that the original didn’t get ruined, and then pointed out a spot on the wall where you said you’d thought it would look nice in a frame hanging in the kitchen. And he'd fallen a little more in love with you.
“Ok, hit me with it,” he says turning the heat to low for the gravy and putting the lid on.
This was a partnership through and through, he was going to give you all the support you needed.
“The turkey?”
Bradley picks up the fancy digital meat thermometer he’d bought for the occasion to check, “Big Bird has an hour and twenty more minutes to work on his tan and then he’ll rest for another thirty. Giving people time to graze and mingle and get some drinks in them, just like you wanted.”
You nod and hum contemplatively, “I’ve been thinking we need a salad. I don’t feel like we have enough vegetable options.”
He knows better than to point out that you’re currently snacking on snap peas from not one, but three, of the veggie platters the two of you had put together the night before.
“We’ve got the crispy brussels sprouts, the garlic and hazelnut green beans, and the honey glazed carrots with lemon. We’re more than fine on the fiber and beta-carotene. Michelle Obama would be proud, kid.”
That gets a little laugh from you.
“Well, as long as you think Michelle would be happy than we’re probably fine,” you say with a smile around your water glass that tells him you know exactly what he’s doing invoking your favorite First Lady.
“What else are you thinking about?” Bradley asks peering in the lower of their double ovens, where foiled covered dishes are lined up in perfect symmetry are warming away having been prepared in advance.
“Do you think two bags of rolls will be enough? Or should I text Mav and ask him to grab one more?”
He doesn’t miss the way your eyes dip down to his ass in his gray slacks. So he might linger as second longer than necessary to let you enjoy the view, since it’s for the female gaze and all.
He’s never understood wearing the most restrictive clothing on the holiday that involves the most eating, but that was Penny’s tradition to have everyone dressed in their nicest and you had insisted on keeping it going even if she was on the other side of the country.
You’d teased him earlier when you’d seen him emerge from the bedroom wearing the short-sleeved green cashmere polo you’d gotten him a couple years ago. It fit a little more snug that he remembered it, but he thought he still pulled it off well.
“When did we become the couple that matches?” you’d asked gesturing to your dress as you gave him an appreciative onceover.
If the past was anything to go off of, you would be running your hands over the soft material covering his chest and back all night.
“I just like reminding people who I belong with, sweet girl.”
He might have had something else in mind to wear for the evening before he saw you in that dress, had ironed the shirt the night before and everything, but last-minute pivot it was well worth it when you looked at him like that.
When he stands back up, he gives you knowing wink.
And in return you throw a baby carrot at him with a laugh.
Bradley isn’t surprised in the least to hear the quick clack-clack-clack of nails on the wood floors as their fluffy black and white Portuguese Water Dog rounds the corner. Having been summoned by the sound of food hitting the floor from where he had been dozing near the fireplace in the living room.
The carrot is gone in an instant and he comes to sit at Bradley's feet by the stove, looking up at him from under his curly eyebrows clearly hoping he'll get another snack.
“Nah, bud. You’re barking up the wrong tree over here,” he says leaning down to scratch his floppy ears.
“Ah, come here, Duck,” you croon, calling him over to your side of the island. “He’s so mean for a man who claimed he just saw God not too long ago, isn’t he?”
Bradley snorts and shakes his head at you amused.
He still doesn’t know how he ended up with a dog named Duck.
At the dog park, more often than not people mistook it for ‘Buck’. And you were usually off to the side more than happy to let him take the lead, biting your lip to keep from laughing at his less than enthusiastic expression when he’d have to warily explain yet again It’s Duck like quack.
You’re not even subtle about the piece of cheese you pull from the charcuterie board to feed him.
“I saw that,” he says, giving you a pointed lift of his eyebrow, “You know Bob is going to be spoiling him all night.”
“It was just a little piece of cheese. Plus, I don’t know who you think you’re fooling. I saw you go over there and deliver him his own little veggie platter with some of the leftovers we had while I was making the apple cider sangria.”
“That’s different, that’s good for him,” he says rounding the island, reaching over and snagging his own slice of cheese to snack on.
“And cheese is a protein. He’s just a baby, Bradley, what am I supposed to do? Not give him a piece of swiss?” You slide off your chair to squat down and rub Duck’s belly, you’ve always been his favorite.
“He’s almost five,” he replies flatly.
“A youth!” you exclaim, “He’s a growing boy.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Bradley says affectionately with a little roll of his eyes. He knows a losing battle when he sees one.
He offers you his hand to help you stand back up, but you wave him off and pull yourself up using the edge of the island. You take a moment to readjust your dress before making your way to the sink by the big windows that look out into the backyard.
“Speaking of Bob, do you know if he’s bringing his fiancée?” you ask from over your shoulder as you wash your hands.
“Not this time, sweetheart. I guess she volunteered to cover a shift in the NICU when she heard they were short staffed.”
“Oh that’s too bad, I was excited to see her ring in person,” you say drying off your hands and heading to the pantry.
“It’s all he can talk about at work. I guess they’re thinking about a Spring wedding next year. They don’t want to wait too long to get married.”
“I’m so happy for them,” you say, digging around for a moment and then emerge with a stack of some sturdy plastic plates and set them on the last free spot on the countertop. “Don’t let me forget to make them up a couple plates that he can bring home for her, before Fanboy declares it time for ‘second dinner’ and eats all the yams like he did last year.”
“I won’t forget, promise,” he says fondly.
If you were facing him, he knows you’d probably tease him for the look on his face and just how gone he is for you.
You’ve always been so generous, it’s one of the things that he loves most about you.
You were always good about hustling him out of his well-earned money from is part time job scooping ice cream in high school, like with the fundraiser you did for the local soup kitchen and the one for the elementary school summer arts program.
He’s always been wrapped around your finger, it just took him awhile to realize why.
It’s the same reason why there’s been a donation that comes out of his bank account every month for the last five years for one of the San Diego animal shelters.
Bradley had made a rather sizable donation and then set up a smaller reoccurring monthly one after the chaos that was the time Bob had set you up with his friend who worked at the shelter, back before the two of you had gotten together.
Even after all these years, he still can’t help but get a little irritated every time he sees that guy’s face in the monthly newsletter that comes to his email. He’s pretty sure Casey still might have a little crush on you, but Bradley can’t blame him. He’d have a hard time getting over you too, so it’s a good thing he’ll never have to.
On newsletter day, Bradley always finds himself giving Duck extra treats.
You are his wife. And Duck is his dog. Ridiculous name and all.
He couldn’t wait to surprise you with the golden tennis ball that the shelter sends out as a thank you after a decade of donations.
Only five more years to go.
You’re over by the bar that’s been set up off to the side, straightening the already very straight rows of gleaming wine glasses when he hears you suck in a sharp gasp.
Bradley drops the dish cloth he had in his hands as he attempted to give what little counter space there was left a final wipe down and is in front of you in half a heartbeat. Was there a fluke with some faulty stemware? Are you bleeding? There’s a reason Thanksgiving is one of the busiest days at the hospital.
“The butter!” you cry out as you whirl around, your pretty eyes welling up with tears, “I let you fuck me and I forgot to pull the butter from the fridge. It’s going to be too hard for people to spread now!”
He knows it’s more than just hosting jitters that’s got you like this, but it still catches him by surprise sometimes.
“Woah, woah,” he says as he catches you on the way to the fridge and pulls you to his chest, “C’mere, my sweet girl.”
You make a distressed noise but allow him to keep his hold on you, “But the butter…”
“I already pulled the butter, see?” He points to the sticks that are already softening away on the counter. “Will you take a couple slow breaths for me, please? This place looks and smells amazing. We did good, baby.”
Bradley feels the moment your body relaxes into him.
He presses a kiss to the side of your temple as he smooths his hands down your soft, pretty green velvet dress and the warm, firm curve of your rounded stomach soothingly.
“Ugh, I’m sorry. It’s the hormones,” you sigh, as you lean your head back against his shoulder.
He hums empathically as he sways gently side to side with you in his arms.
“I would like to go on the record saying that I like pregnancy hormones, especially the ones from earlier,” he jokes lightly.
“That makes one of us,” you say with a watery laugh, “Just wait until I am waking you up at 4 AM because I am craving something from a drive-thru that’s not open.”
“Mm, can’t wait,” he murmurs before dropping a few kisses along the soft line of your jaw.
Bradley still can’t believe he gets to be this lucky in life.
He doesn’t want to forget a single moment of this. With you, with his family.
“We did a really good job with this one,” he whispers into your ear, still stroking your stomach, not wanted to disturb the magic in the domesticity.
“We really did, da--” Bradley groans and cuts you off with a kiss. He can feel the impish smile plastered on your lips as he kisses you. His favorite menace.
He knows you’re pretty sure it was the spontaneous hook up in the storage closet at the Hard Deck on the Fourth of July that’s responsible for the noticeable bump you’re sporting. Call him a romantic, but he likes to think it was that night in the Bronco overlooking the ocean when he’d taken the long way back home.
You pull away all too soon for his liking to grab his left hand. He sees the flash of the two diamonds on your engagement ring, one from his mom and one from yours, as you take it and press it to a spot near your bellybutton.
The feeling of the fluttering under his palm will never get old. He’s not too proud to say he’d shed a tear or two the first time he’d felt it.
Bradley lets himself bask in this moment as he two of you stand there in the kitchen of your dream house.
There are a few pops from the wood in the fireplace, the refrigerator is humming away in the background, and he can just hear the sounds of a melodic piano from the playlist he queued up earlier playing over the speaker.
Of all the delicious scents that waft through the house, the smell the floral and musk notes in you perfume is still his favorite.
There are times in the soft quiet of night, usually when you are asleep and his mind won’t quite settle, that he sometimes thinks he was put on this Earth to hold you.
It’s the only reason he can think of that explains why you fit so perfectly against his body.
Why his palms can fit so perfectly over your rounded stomach.
Why it’s his hands that you have trusted to protect your heart.
And he’s still holding you in the warmth of the kitchen when he hears the front door open.
Bradley knows he’s going to have to play host soon and he just wants to keep you in his arms for just a little longer.
“Hey kids, I brought the turkey,” Mav calls out from the entry.
You spin in his arms, looking at him wide eyed and confused as you two exchange a look. He presses one last kiss to your cheek before letting you go.
“Thought you were going to bring the rolls, Mav,” Bradley calls out just in time to see him round the corner.
Pete stands there proudly grinning holding a few bags of bakery rolls in one hand and a turkey in the other.
The sound of your delighted laughter makes his heart swell in his chest as he takes in the sight.
“Cooper Mitchell Ford Bradshaw, you are without a doubt the cutest turkey I have ever seen,” you gush as you go to greet Mav with a warm hug and a kiss on his cheek. Your son’s chubby arms reaching out for you.
Mav has dressed your almost two-year-old son in a soft, plush turkey costume that is complete with tailfeathers and a beak. He’s clearly a fan of the outfit too because he is grinning widely, showing of the more of the baby teeth that have come in over the last few months.
Mav had swung by early this morning to take him off your hands to get ready for Daggersgiving without chasing an almost-toddler around. While it was nice to have some time just the two of you while you got the place in order and took care of the last-minute things, like that homemade cranberry sauce, but he’d missed not having his son around.
The sweet sound of Cooper’s giggles and your coos fill up the kitchen as he watches you pepper his face with kisses. You bounce him a little and do a little spin, making the little boy laugh even more. The two of you in your own little bubble.
“You doin’ ok over there, kid?” Mav asks, a soft grin on his face as he sets the rolls on the counter to pull him in for a hug.
The two men had made their way back to each other over the last few years, just another thing that Bradley was grateful for in his life. The man had always been his father in everything but name. That is until he’d seen the man who raised him hold his son for the first time.
“Yeah, Dad,” Bradley says, clearing his throat a bit, “Everything’s perfect.”
From there it’s a flurry of activity as people start to arrive.
Nat comes with her longtime girlfriend and the extra bottles of the fancy Napa wine she promised to bring. Only handing it over once he promised to give her the name of the contractor the two of you had worked with and the exact shade of green that was used on the lower cabinets during your kitchen renovation.
Payback and Fanboy and their wives show up wearing oversized turkey hats on their heads each carrying a bakery box of pie.
Bradley isn’t surprised when Duck ditches the attention that Coyote was giving him the second Bob shows up with the famous Floyd family scalloped potatoes. Bob has always been a sucker for a pair of puppy dog eyes.
And in between checking on people’s glasses, swapping out empty appetizer trays for fuller ones, and making sure Jake doesn’t tamper with his perfectly cooked turkey, he’s got his eyes trained on you.
There are no words for the pride and love that washes over him every time he looks over and sees you with his son propped up on your hip and the way your pretty dress stretches around your growing family.
He had missed this stage of your pregnancy when he was deployed and you were pregnant with Cooper. He was determined to savor every second of this one. Every butter related freak out and every late-night milkshake run.
Being in his house surrounded with all the people he loves, minus a couple who are here in spirit, isn’t something he could ever take for granted. It’s more blessings than he ever hoped to receive in this lifetime.
You look over your shoulder at him and everything about the way you’re looking at him is picture perfect.
Your smile sunshine gold and just for him as you hold his gaze for a moment as time ticks on around the two of you. You send him a little wink before turning back to Mav who has his phone held up for a FaceTime call with Penny and Amelia.
Bradley sees his son peek his head up from where it had been nestled into your neck. Cooper grins when he sees him, his tiny hand reaching out for his dad. For him.
As he makes his way over to the two of you with his heart full, he makes a mental note to ask Mav later where he got that costume. He’s already planning on running out tomorrow to see if they have any more in stock now that it seems they have a new Bradshaw tradition on their hands.
He’s going to have three little turkeys running around this time next year and he couldn’t wait.
Cooper and him were going to be outnumbered soon.
The two of you had found out earlier in the month that Everly Caroline Bradshaw and Olivia Saylor Bradshaw were going to be the newest members to join your little family.
His girls.
It was an announcement the two of you were excited to share later tonight with everyone else when the slices of pies were being passed around.
He scoops up Cooper from you with one arm, dropping a kiss onto his little boy’s perfect curls as his small fist clutches as the soft fabric of his shirt. And then Bradley kisses the crown of your head as he wraps his other arm around you, his thumb stroking the swell of your belly.
With you- because of you- he gets to have it all.
The wife. The family. The house. The dog. The life. The dream.
He’s right where he wants to be.
He’s right where he’s supposed to be.
Happy Thanksgiving! This was such a joy to write, thank you for reading!
It might not be Carole Bradshaw's famous pie, but it's one of my favorites! And who better to share it with than you! Cranberry-Lime Pie
If you haven't read the 'Like I Can' series you can read it here!
You can read my other stories here!
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Always Ever Only You Part 26 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: No matter what Bradley did, you seemed frustrated with him. You needed a new car, but you needed to start communicating with him even more. He was scrambling to try to fix everything, but it was hard when you could barely stay awake for a conversation.
Warnings: Swearing, drinking, pregnancy topics, angst
Length: 5900 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32
When nearly a week had gone by, and you still wouldn't focus on picking out a new car for yourself, Bradley was starting to get frustrated. Sharing the Bronco with you wasn't a big deal. You respected it and treated it well, but he had to play nice when you wanted to use it to go to brunch on Sunday with Cam and Maria at the same time he wanted to play golf.
"Can't Jake pick you up?" you asked him with an annoyed sigh. "I'll text him and ask if he can come get you."
"Why can't Cam or Maria pick you up?" he asked, feeling kind of fucking fed up with you at the moment.
"Fine," you replied, an eerily calm expression taking over your face. "I'll have one of them pick me up for brunch in the morning. Don't worry about it."
You turned on your heel and walked back to the bedroom leaving Bradley raking his fingers through his hair. He had finally started to feel normal again after having your parents at the house for a few days. It's not like they were even loud or inconsiderate, but he just struggled a bit with it anyway. He wasn't used to closing the bedroom door knowing Tramp liked to wander around the house at all hours of the day and night. He liked to take a piss with the bathroom door open, and he liked to randomly reach up under your shirt when you were in the kitchen if you welcomed it. And he just couldn't do any of that with other people in the house, even though it was family.
"Fuck," he mumbled. It wasn't even a big deal for you to take the Bronco to brunch. Jake or Javy could easily get him on their way to the golf course, and now he needed to go apologize to you. But the bedroom door was closed when he got there, and he immediately felt like he needed to be touching you, because you were literally the only person who could be in his personal space all day long and not usually annoy him in the slightest.
When he turned the knob, he was relieved to find it wasn't locked. "Baby Girl?" he called out cautiously, and then he found you in the bathroom. "Shit," he whispered, watching you wipe your eyes before turning toward the mirror, but there was no way to hide from him in here. "I'm sorry."
"Could you just leave me alone?" you asked without looking at him.
The words caused him physical pain, because that was the last thing he wanted right now. He'd gotten used to how much better everything was recently, and he was absolutely unwilling to stop communicating with you. "Can we talk about it? About a car? We could buy one tomorrow if you pick one out."
You turned and snapped at him. "Maybe next time just don't fuck up the one I already have!"
He had apologized to you countless times. He'd given your shit car a eulogy. He had offered to buy you any car you found that you wanted, but now he was just as mad as you were. "I just wanted to tell you that you can use the Bronco tomorrow."
"How generous," you replied sarcastically. "But I already told you I'll get a ride from Cam or Maria. Now would you please leave me alone?"
Bradley nodded and retreated back to the living room couch with Tramp, because he didn't know what else to do. He stretched out and decided to look at cars until you resurfaced to make dinner. There were two huge dealerships in San Diego that had the current model year of your old car, and they both had them stocked in several colors with different options available. You could get a new red one with a sunroof and gray interior just like you had before. He'd upgrade the stereo package to make riding in it less painful for him, but he'd buy it right now if you said it's what you wanted.
As he thought back to the way you dragged your feet about wedding planning, he muttered a string of obscenities. At this rate, he'd be sharing the Bronco with you for a long time. He bookmarked a bunch of new cars, and then he searched all over the country to see if anyone was selling an exact replica of the one he totaled. A few hours later, it occurred to him that you never came back out of the bedroom. He scooped up Tramp where he'd fallen asleep on his chest and carried him back down the hallway.
You were sound asleep in bed, curled up on your side, breathing softly. Bradley checked the time again. It was only 7:15, but maybe you just needed to rest. He tucked the covers up around your shoulders and kissed your forehead before venturing back out to the kitchen to make himself a sandwich before working out.
------------------------
By the middle of the week, you were aggressively annoyed by everything, but mostly Bradley's voice. On Sunday, Cam picked you up for brunch even though Bradley told you a million times you could use the Bronco. You didn't even want to use the Bronco. He could use it all day long. And then you went back to Cam's place and lounged on his couch until you were starting to get hungry for dinner. If Bradley wondered why you were out for a six hour brunch, he didn't ask.
But when he eventually called your phone, you asked Cam to drive you home. "Your husband is like a twelve out of ten," he murmured as he drove you. "Don't be mean to him." Then you climbed out of his car onto your driveway and rolled your eyes, because after that he was getting on your nerves, too.
So on Monday and Tuesday, you just avoided Bradley as much as you could at work after driving in with him, but on Wednesday, as he pulled into the parking garage, he cleared his throat. "Hard Deck tonight?"
"You can go," you replied as you unbuckled your seatbelt. "You can take the Bronco, and I'll just stay home." You bit your lip immediately as you said the words, because you felt like crying. You couldn't understand what was wrong with you as tears burned your eyes. The last thing you wanted to do was skip a fun night out. You also didn't know why you couldn't commit to a car. Everything felt like too much the last few days, and you wanted to scream.
"Can we talk about this?" Bradley asked, his voice pleading with you, but you didn't even know what to say.
"Later," you told him before heading for the building, but he was right behind you, undeterred.
"Don't give me that later bullshit. We've been talking and communicating a lot better, and I absolutely refuse to stop doing either of those things!"
You spun around so fast, he almost collided with you. "I have a meeting with Bickel, okay? About Annapolis. And it starts in twenty minutes. And I'm tired. And I miss my car. And I need to go."
After that, you weren't sure if he followed you or not, because you didn't turn around to check. When you got to your office and opened your computer, you saw the calendar reminder that made more tears cloud your vision. You cradled your forehead in your hand. Saturday was Carole Bradshaw's birthday.
The fact that you forgot it was coming up was worrying, because you couldn't let work take over your life again like it had in the past. You'd been mentally planning to make another fancy dinner to celebrate her day, the way you had for both of Bradley's parents' birthdays last year. Filet mignon and crab cakes and brownies.
Fuck. You wanted to sit alone in your office and cry all morning, but now you had four minutes until you had to sit down with your boss. You pulled yourself together the best you could and made your way to talk to Bickel. Cat was there too, and you could feel her intense gaze on you as if she was physically touching you. You knew she could tell something was on your mind, but you sat as calmly as you could and looked through the folder of information that was given to you.
Bickel folded his hands on his desk and said, "I'm letting the two of you decide how you'd like to present our work in Annapolis. I'm trying to finalize some dates for us, but it's looking like the first week of August. This would add two million dollars to our pending budget for next year, which would give us the opportunity to explore an even more advanced comms system. And it would be a great way for me to push for your promotion, Lieutenant Coleman."
"Yes, Sir," Cat replied immediately. When you were both dismissed, she took you by the arm out in the hallway and whispered, "Please, I need you to focus on this for me. Okay? Why do you look like you're on the verge of tears?"
"I'm having a bad week," you whispered, still unsure why you felt like this. Your fingers were tingling, and you were so anxious, you were about to walk yourself to see Dr. Genevieve. But you hadn't eaten breakfast, and it was almost lunchtime now after Bickel kept you so long. "I need lunch," you told Cat, and she sighed and walked down to the cafeteria with you.
Part of you wanted to see Bradley, but part of you did not. And something about the idea of a burrito bowl was turning your stomach just looking at it. You picked out a sandwich and some soup and found a spot at a table that was completely empty except for Bob.
"Hi," you said softly, and he looked up from his notebook with a smile as you slid into the seat across from him.
"Hi," he replied in his sweet voice that immediately made you feel calmer. "I actually was hoping to see you to thank you again. Maria has been really accommodating about me moving in, and this way I don't have to commute into the city every day."
You waved him off as you tried a spoonful of the flavorless soup. "I'm just happy it worked out. For both of you. I didn't want Maria to have some creep move in since she couldn't find anyone else. And obviously you're just lovely, Bob."
He visibly bristled a bit. "No, she shouldn't have to deal with a creepy roommate."
Then Jake dropped down in the seat next to yours and turned to smile as Cat sat on his other side. "Angel. What the hell are you doing to Rooster now?"
"What do you mean?" you asked, looking around, but your husband and Nat were still in line for food.
"He's fucking miserable today. Cranky as hell. And I know for a fact nothing can set that man off the way you can. It's honestly pretty funny, but he did snap at me three times. It's like dealing with Hondo all over again."
"Sorry," you heard Cat mutter as she ate her lunch.
You gripped your spoon in your hand and took a deep breath, but all you could say was, "I don't know." You truly didn't know what was going on. Your brain was in a constant fog, and you felt so antsy.
Bradley sat across the table from you, eyeing you carefully from his spot next to Bob. You tried to give him a reassuring smile, but you didn't know if it came across that way when he just looked sadder.
"Who's coming to the bar tonight?" Nat asked loudly.
After Jake and Cat agreed to go, you quietly said, "Not me. I have to catch up on some things I was supposed to read, but I'll drop Bradley off for the night."
Your husband shook his head and opened his mouth to reply, but Nat was already squeezing his shoulder. "Sounds good," she said, and after that, he sat quietly.
----------------------------
Bradley flew all afternoon, and it was bad. Just really, very bad. He was distracted, and the fact that Javy had to keep repeating himself was about to earn Bradley a lecture from Maverick if he didn't pull it together. But you were just making him so sad, and he had no idea why you were currently barely able to look at him without crying or yelling.
He hadn't even done anything. Had he? Yeah, he'd completely destroyed your beloved car, but the visit with your parents had gone pretty well. He hadn't missed any important dates of anniversaries. He'd been keeping up with his chores at home.
You'd been running a bit hot and cold in the bedroom. He'd never push you for more than you wanted to do, but then perhaps he hadn't been good for you recently? The mere thought had him squirming and sweating in his cockpit as he followed Javy into a dive. Shit. Could that be it? He always got you off. Except that he knew he hadn't in the family bathroom at the Padres game, but you and he had been in a rush. And that night last week when you started yawning while you rode him, he distinctly remembered you saying it didn't matter if you came since you were so tired.
Shit. Things had been going great, he didn't realize what he'd been doing, and now he had to figure out how to fix it when you seemed so disinterested in talking to him. As he brought his jet back down to the tarmac he tried to come up with a plan, but he felt helpless. These were the times he felt like having a mother of his own would come in handy, because he couldn't exactly take this to your mom.
"Fuck." He wrenched his helmet off and ran his fingers through his hair. You were sending him off to the bar alone tonight to get him out of your space, he could tell. So maybe the best thing he could do right now was just follow your lead.
After he showered and headed for the parking garage, he found you leaning against the side of the Bronco waiting for him. "Hi, Sweetheart," he said, leaning down to kiss you softly.
Your quiet response of, "Hi, Roo," made him feel a lot better, and you let him buckle you in, which was great. But then you said, "I'll just drop you off at the bar later and come back for you. I have some things I want to get done."
He nodded. "Sure. Whatever you want."
Back at home, he was able to coax you onto his lap for dinner at the dining room table, and even though it was a quiet affair, he didn't mind. He just rubbed his hand up and down your back, and eventually you sank back against him even though you'd only had a few bites of food. You were practically asleep on him as he finished eating, but you jolted up when his phone vibrated against your hip.
"It's probably just Nat," he whispered, and you nodded as you checked the time.
"I'll drop you off whenever you're ready, and I'll come back for you around ten?"
He cupped your perfect cheek in one hand and asked, "Are you sure you don't want to come? I can help you get caught up with work tomorrow or this weekend. I'm a pretty good helper."
You cracked the tiniest smile as you said, "I'm just not in the mood. You go and drink and have fun, and I'll come back for you."
He kissed your cheek. "I'll be waiting, ready to come home with you whenever you get there."
--------------------------
When Bradley climbed out of the Bronco, you watched him head inside the bar. He was wearing his white and yellow floral print shirt, part of the matching set that he'd bought for the two of you, and he looked so sexy, you were thrumming with need. You were all over the place. A few days ago, the mere sight of him had you ready to climb out the window, and now you were on the verge of chasing him down to fuck you.
"Get a grip. My god," you moaned as you pulled back onto the road. At least now you could go to the store and purchase everything you'd need to make Carole's birthday dinner in peace.
The store was quiet, which was great, because you didn't currently know if something was about to set you off. You grabbed a cart, and the cool metal against your hands felt nice. A smile found its way to your face as you listened to Everywhere by Fleetwood Mac playing throughout the store and picked out some beautiful looking steaks. Then you found everything for the crab cakes and the brownies, and you got a bottle of expensive champagne.
You were already feeling better now, almost excited to celebrate the mother-in-law that you'd never had the privilege of meeting. She deserved a special day and a fancy dinner, because even though you didn't know her personally, you were absolutely certain Carole Bradshaw was incredible. The sparkle of your engagement ring caught your eye, and you stood in front of the wine and champagne and sobbed quietly until you felt like you could continue shopping.
It had to be the combination of work and her birthday and your car that was setting you off. No matter how bad it made you feel, you'd pick out a new car this weekend. You knew there was enough in your savings account for a down payment, so you just had to force yourself to bite the bullet. You'd do it for Bradley and for yourself.
While you unpacked the groceries, you made a sandwich, finally hungry again after you'd barely been able to eat dinner. But that started to make you too full after just half of it. "Don't tell Daddy," you whispered before feeding it to Tramp.
Then you sat at the island and read through the folder from Bickel. You had weeks of research and planning ahead of you, but it would be worth it for the grant money. Cat was a solid gold choice as a partner for this, especially since she was motivated by that promotion she wanted. You were excited, but realistically so. You needed to make sure you didn't overdo things this time around. You could rely on Cat as much as yourself, and you knew that now.
When you checked the time on your phone, it was already 10:30. You texted Bradley and let him know you'd be there soon. When you started the Bronco, you got a text back.
Bradley Rooster Bradshaw <3 <3 <3: Can't wait for you to take me home.
You smiled and sang on your way there, already feeling better about having everything for Carole's birthday dinner ready to go. You parked the Bronco and headed inside, twirling Bradley's keyring on your fingers. As soon as you pushed the door open, the wave of noise hit you, and you made a beeline for the pool table. Penny's summer drink specials must have been on point, because the place was packed.
Just when you were trying to squeeze between two massive guys, you caught sight of Bradley just in time to see a woman walk up behind him and tap him on the shoulder. Maybe he thought it was you at first, because he spun to face her with a smile on his face. You got jostled around a little bit as your steps faltered and came to a stop. Bradley was conversing a bit with her now, although his smile was gone, and you watched as she reached up with her perfectly manicured nails and dragged them along his paper airplane tattoo on his bicep.
"Oh, hell no," you gasped, registering that Bradley looked surprised, and not in a good way. But you were frozen to the spot now as disgust, embarrassment and jealousy washed over you. It wasn't like he wasn't wearing his wedding band. He was. How was that not enough? You couldn't decide if you wanted to run away or rip her head off.
Bradley immediately started to back away from her, shaking his head as he went, and then his gaze connected with yours. He mouthed your name, and you could see the concern on his face as you swallowed hard. Instead of running away, you stood there like an idiot when he came rushing in your direction.
"Sweetheart," he said, reaching for your hand, his eyes on yours.
"Who's your friend?" you asked. Your voice sounded like it belonged to someone else while your throat burned.
You let him wrap one big hand around your back and pull you closer, holding you there. "No idea. Never saw her before thirty seconds ago."
"I didn't like her touching you."
His eyebrow quirked up as his hand dipped a little lower. "Neither did I. Especially since I got the tattoo for you, Baby Girl."
You had your arms around his neck instantly, the other woman forgotten as you kissed your husband. He tasted like your favorite beer, and you whimpered. But your body felt somehow both too tender and too needy pressed up against him as you said, "It's for me. Mine. Let's go home."
-------------------------
Bradley let you drive since he'd had a fair amount to drink. That fucking woman just about ruined his night by asking him what he was drinking and then touching his arm, feigning interest in his unique tattoo. The past week had already felt like touch and go with you, and he was unwilling to make it worse. He still wasn't quite sure how to get things back to where they had been just a short time ago.
When you parked in the driveway in the spot where you used to park your car, he almost winced. But you crawled over to his lap and started to unbutton his shirt. "Take me to bed," you told him, rubbing yourself on him through his jeans.
He grunted in response, carrying you up to the porch and wrestling with his key in the lock as you kissed his neck. Clothing was discarded along the way, and when he got you in the bedroom with the soft lamplight illuminating your skin, he moaned.
"Jesus Christ, you're a dream."
Truly, your tits had never looked better, and somehow the aroused looking little scowl you were shooting his way was really working him up as you shimmied your jeans down your legs. He was hard when you finally pushed him onto the bed and climbed on top.
"I love you," he promised as your lips met his, and you sank down around his length. Warm and wet and perfect. Holy shit, you felt incredible as you rolled your hips slowly, his hands settling at your waist. You were velvety smooth everywhere. The only thing he wanted.
He held your hips in his hands and thrust up into you as his lips met your nipple. You moaned as he licked you, but as soon as he sucked hard, pulling you between his lips, you gasped. So he did it again and again, but your hips stilled and your hands left his shoulders and reached for his cheeks.
"It hurts," you gasped, pushing his face away from your chest. "Stop."
He let his head settle back on the pillow. "Sorry." Tentatively, he brought his hand up to your left breast and gave you a nice squeeze, but you pulled away further. Then you were kneeling next to him with your arms crossed over your chest. "Sorry," he repeated. "But I always touch you that way?"
You burst into tears and said, "It just hurts."
And that was the last thing you said to him for the night as you crawled under the covers. As soon as Bradley got his erection under control by pacing around the bathroom, he walked back to the bed to find you sound asleep.
On Thursday and Friday, you didn't even acknowledge it. When he asked if it was okay if he touched you on Thursday morning, you went willingly into his arms as the toaster popped out your breakfast. And on Friday morning, you let him snuggle with you a little bit before you got out of bed, so at least he was fairly convinced you weren't too mad at him. But he just knew he hadn't been doing enough for you in bed which really pissed him off.
He was older than everyone else around him seemingly all the time, and now he was feeling insecure about it again. If he could just manage to get you to have a real conversation with him, then he'd try to fix this. But you were busy with work, something else that had a red flag shooting up in the back of his mind. No, he was not going to fuck this all up yet again. You and he had something special, and he was going to demand a conversation.
--------------------------
You poked at your lunch on Friday as Jake and Bradley argued next to you in the cafeteria. You were barely able to pay attention to them, because you were so tired, and you had another meeting with Bickel in an hour. As far as you could tell, you were getting the flu, which seemed weird for July, but nothing else made sense.
No matter how much you slept, you were exhausted. Your body was aching, and you were so damn moody. You'd practically accosted Bradley on Wednesday after you picked him up from the bar, but then you fell asleep as soon as you told him your breasts hurt. You felt embarrassed now as you looked at him next to you, because after all of that, you didn't even let him finish that night.
As you adjusted your shirt, you could have screamed at how tender your nipples were. At least it was Friday. You could catch up on reading for your presentation research, and then you could sleep.
"Come on, Rooster," Jake complained. "You have to come tomorrow. I'll leave the hard seltzers at home, and Javy and I will behave."
Bradley turned to look at you with big, brown eyes before he told Jake, "No. No golf tomorrow. I have some things I need to take care of." Then he turned back toward you and softly said, "We're talking tomorrow. About a bunch of stuff. Until we are sorted out."
Now you felt guilty as Jake shot you a look. "We can talk tomorrow afternoon, Roo. Go play golf."
"Yeah, Bradshaw," Jake piped up. "Angel said you can do shit with her in the afternoon. So you'll come with Bob, Javy and I? You know Reuben sucks at golf. He's even worse than you."
"Go," you told Bradley, kissing the edge of his mustache before you stood. "Yes, Jake, he will be golfing tomorrow. I plan on sleeping in, and the quiet house will be nice."
Bradley reached for your hand, lacing his fingers with yours as he looked up at you. "I love you."
You nodded. "I love you, too. I need to go get ready for a meeting." His eyes were on your body as you walked away, but you needed to focus on work right now.
It was all you could do to go back to Bickel's office with Cat and not fall asleep in his soft leather chair. Your boss's calm voice and the warm room were almost too much for your senses. You were fighting with yourself to keep your eyes open. Fighting with everything you had to stay engaged. An hour went by and then two, and he was still talking, and so was Cat, and they kept asking you for input. You were clinging to your extensive knowledge on the subject matter and hoping for the best when Bickel's desk phone rang, and he finally dismissed you.
"This is so exciting," Cat gushed out in the cooler hallway. "I was telling Jake last night that you and I are going to have the best presentation at the Naval Academy next month, and do you know what he said?"
"Hmm?" you hummed as you walked to the lab.
"He offered to watch Jeremiah!"
"Oh." You hadn't even really considered how hard it would be for Cat to go to Maryland with you, but this was probably a big deal. Jeremiah wasn't even two yet. "Wow. Look at Jake being an exceptional boyfriend. Good thing I pushed the two of you to actually communicate with each other."
Cat laughed and hugged you before entering the lab, but you cringed. Communication. You'd talk to Bradley tomorrow afternoon. You'd pick a car tomorrow afternoon. But when you got home today, you were going to take your temperature and then get in bed.
You had to wait by the Bronco for such a long time, you contemplated texting Bradley to see what the holdup was. It was late, you were actually starving, and you wanted to go home. You shifted your bag from one shoulder to the other, beyond annoyed that there was only one key to this thing; you couldn't even sit inside. You glared at the pretty blue paint, really missing your ugly red car with your whole heart when you heard boots pounding the pavement behind you.
"I'm so sorry, Baby Girl," Bradley gasped. He must have run the whole way here from the tarmac since he was still in his flight suit. "We ran over. I should have left the keys with you this morning. I"m sorry."
You nodded as he helped you in the passenger side door and buckled you in. "Okay."
He pulled out of the parking garage, glancing at you every few seconds. "All you're going to say is okay?"
You yawned wishing you could get undressed. "What do you want me to say, Bradley?"
He was quiet for a few blocks, but when he turned down your street, he let loose. "I want you to say something more than okay. I want you to fucking talk to me, alright? I feel like everything I'm doing right now is making you mad at me, and I hate that. I fucking hate it." He hit the brakes a little hard in the driveway, and now you were alert as you started crying.
"Fuck!" Bradley growled, hands gripping the steering wheel. "I'm sorry." He looked so upset right now, you didn't even know what to do as tears streamed down your cheeks. Then he was running across the driveway and helping you out of the Bronco and into the house, but the tears kept coming. And now your head was throbbing and you felt so sick.
"I just want to go to bed," you gasped. "Please," you begged as he kissed your forehead over and over again while Tramp jumped around.
"Of course," Bradley whispered, his lips meeting your face again before he knelt in front of you. He kissed your thighs through your khaki pants and helped you out of your boots, looking up at your face which you were sure looked like a wreck. "Sweetheart, I'm so sorry I yelled."
"It's okay," you managed as the room spun a little bit. "I just need to get in bed."
He carried you there, and it felt amazing to not have to walk. Then he set you on the bed and undressed you as he asked, "Do you want some water? A snack?"
You nodded and got under the covers, and said, "Yes, please," as you started to doze off. All you managed to do was eat a handful of trail mix and chug a glass of water before you passed out.
When you eventually woke up, you felt a little better, but when you rolled over, the other half of the bed was empty and cold. It was eight in the morning according to your phone. You'd just slept for over twelve hours, and Bradley was out playing golf now. The cool fabric of his pillow on your face felt so nice, you rolled over all the way. You must have a fever and the flu. You felt too hot, and your breasts were aching. So was your abdomen. Your period was probably about to start.
You frowned and looked at your phone again, opening the calendar app. It was Carole's birthday, but it was apparently also five weeks since you'd had your period. "Oh my god." You practically fell out of the bed, your legs tangling up in the sheets as you tried to get to your feet.
"Oh shit," you gasped, running for the bathroom. You didn't know what to do first, but your stomach won as you lunged for the toilet and threw up everything in your stomach. "Gross," you groaned as you flushed the toilet, but as soon as you tried to stand, more came up. Your heart was thudding in your chest as you forced yourself to be patient and let your stomach empty itself.
When you finally could, you got to your feet again, removing your glasses to rinse your mouth out and splash water on your face. Then you dried yourself and slid them back on. You eyed the linen closet next to the door in the mirror before turning around slowly. As you strode across the tile floor, Tramp came in to investigate, but you ignored him as you closed the distance to where you thought you might have one last pregnancy test hidden away.
You opened the narrow door and knelt down, and then you started throwing everything from the bottom shelves over your shoulders, frantically searching. You saw the box, and you tore it open. You already knew what to do, because you'd done it so many times before, but your hands were shaking as you removed the test and looked at it on your palm in the foil wrapper.
Tramp whimpered at you as you got to your feet again and made it to the toilet, this time pulling your underwear down as you went. When the wrapper fell away, you took the test, hands shaking as you set it on the edge of the sink vanity when you were done. Then you wiped as you started to panic. Three minutes. You needed to wait for three minutes.
Your phone was simply too far away as you started counting out loud, your voice echoing around your bathroom. It wasn't ready yet. You climbed into the empty bathtub, sitting and wrapping your arms around your knees. And you counted.
You closed your eyes, and you counted. You looked at Tramp, and you counted. You pressed your forehead to your knees, and you counted all the way until you reached one hundred and eighty.
"Three minutes," you whispered, your heart beating so hard, it was making you feel like you might need to throw up again. You climbed out of the tub onto unsteady legs and held your breath as you walked to the vanity. Very carefully, like it was the most precious thing you'd ever touched, you picked up the test. You checked the result before promptly dropping it to the floor.
------------------------
Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 27
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would you perhaps be able to do “please talk to me” from the angst list with bradley?🥺👉🏻👈🏻
when Rooster wakes up, he doesn't get even one moment of normalcy. usually when he wakes up beside your sprawled figure, he peppers your shoulders with lazy kisses. then slink out of bed, brushes his teeth, slips into his tennis shoes, and goes for a run down the shoreline. sometimes he even watches the sunrise there, panting, taking an earbud out to hear the gulls caw. sometimes he'll even grab smoothies for the both of you on his way home, and hop in the shower as you finally woke up, lips wrapped half-heartedly around a neon straw.
but you're not in bed when his eyes flicker open for the first time today. your side of the bed is crumpled, cold. you've been out of bed for a while.
the morning light is gray--not an early morning gray, but an endless slate. one that means rain, probably.
he glances at the clock, head muddled from his deep sleep, and sees that it's almost 11am. he sits up, brows furrowed, and feels that hollowness grow inside of him immediately. it's like a jolt--something that infects wholly and completely immediately.
oh. his body is reminding him.
today is November 7th.
how could he forget?
instead of jumping out of bed like he usually does, which is a habit he vaguely remembers his father having, he allows his shoulders to slump and his chest deflate. he sinks back into the covers, feels his eyes grow heavy, and pulls the blankets up beneath his chin.
there are two days of the year that Bradley lets himself stay in bed all day: July 29th and today. the anniversary of both of his parents deaths.
you're trying to balance this goddamn tray of food as you walk up the stairs in your monkey slippers, cursing yourself for settling so many beverages on here. does Bradley really need three choices?
whatever, you think. he'll have his pick of the litter at least.
the bedroom door is cracked just enough for you to carefully back your elbow into--just enough for you to step into the room in near-silence except for the shivering glass on the metal tray in your hands.
honestly, you're expecting Bradley to be asleep still. he slept in on that hot day in July, didn't say much at all, just pressed his face against your belly and let M*A*S*H reruns play all day. after, you'd felt guilty; you hadn't done much to make him feel better, stupefied from being this close to such palpable grief. your only prerogative was being there for him, which is how you ended up staying beneath the sheets despite the heat.
but you find Rooster's knit brows and glossy eyes immediately. in your spot in the doorway, you freeze, then grin.
"well, good morning, merry sunshine!" you say softly. "how'd you sleep?"
Bradley's just staring at you, eyes moving from the tray and back up to your wanton gaze as he slowly begins to sit up against the headboard.
"fine," he tells you.
"thought you'd still be asleep," you tell him, shuffling to the bedside carefully. "hope I didn't leave you waiting too long! and I hope you're hungry, 'cause I made a little bit of everything."
Rooster, stunned, just watches you with his hands in his lap. you're wearing his class t-shirt from high school and an old pair of cotton underwear, your eyes bleary and your hair untouched. but all the same, you're grinning at him, nodding for him to move his hands from his lap.
"for your drink selection, we've got coffee, orange juice, and a strawnana smoothie--if you're feeling frisky. for our meats we've got turkey bacon, Impossible Sausage, regular bacon, and--well, are eggs meat? no, right? okay, moving on," you say, shrugging as you point to all the foods as you list. "then we've got scrambled eggs--lots of cheddar cheese and no sage this time, okay? I won't do that ever again, baby, I promise!" you press a lewd and sweet kiss to his forehead before continuing. "and then we've got two pieces of French toast with maple syrup--like that healthy kind you like, the one that gets, like, milked from the trees or whatever. we've also got a short stack of buttermilk pancakes with the sprinkles I know you like but you won't admit it, so we'll say that I like sprinkles in my pancakes! and then the usual suspects--grapefruit, cinnamon oatmeal, sliced apples, grits. pick your poison!"
and that is when Bradley suddenly lets his head tip forward, tears spurring from his eyes suddenly as if a spice had been broken.
oh fuck. this isn't what you meant to happen.
"baby?" you ask tentatively, holding the back of his head with a frown planted on your lips. "I was just kidding about the sprinkles."
with his face angled down, he can see those stupid monkey slippers on your feet. he can see the eggs you made just right, leaving out the sage you sometimes like to sneak in. he can see the different beverages and the rainbow sprinkles. he can even see the sly nibble you took out of his French toast.
he is totally and completely overwhelmed--but it isn't by grief right now. it's love. love and affection and honey and everything else in the world that is sweet and perfect.
"talk to me, baby," you whisper, shuffling to move the tray from his lap and sitting on the bed. he immediately lets his face fall on your shoulder, choking on his sobs. "please."
November 7th was the worst day of his life--one of them, at least. it was when his mother let go, moved on, left him behind. he remembers how peaceful it was when she was gone: all the monitors turned off, the IV drips empty, her face slacked and serene. and he remembers being so angry about it all--why did she have to go to be okay again?
but now it's November 7th and he's eating breakfast in bed and you're in your monkey slippers and those old panties and stroking his hair. he feels entirely swollen with it--love.
"I love you so much," he tells you, unable to put it any differently. "and I really do like sprinkles in my pancakes."
the knot in your throat dissipates at his words. you never push him to talk about his grief--only nurture it when he trusts you enough to speak on it.
so, you kiss his head a few times, hold him against you.
"that was really brave of you to admit," you tell him, a smile tugging at your lips.
he laughs through his tears, sniffling, tracing your spine with his fingers delicately.
"I know," he sniffles. not so subtly, he wipes his nose on your tee. you don't mind it one bit. "you're my best friend."
"me?" you whisper, voice thin with emotion. but you know that you can't start crying, too. so, you clear your throat. "you must be a real loser then."
he laughs weakly, inhaling all that sleep on your skin.
"yeah," he agrees. "I must."
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