SUMMARY Since he first came into your life, two things have always been true: you've been in love with Bradley Bradshaw from the moment you laid eyes on him and he's been in love with your sister from the moment he laid eyes on her. But passing years and unforeseen circumstances find you and Bradley married—unfortunately, both your truths remain the same.
CONTENT little women au, fem reader (no use of y/n, but reader has a last name), angst, fluff, slow burn I guess, historical inaccuracies (read: I kinda just made up a time period that's whatever I want it to be and we're all gonna go with it), toxic family dynamics, eventual smut, chapter specific...
STATUS last updated 5/30/26
PART ONE
PART TWO
PART THREE
PART FOUR
PART FIVE
PART SIX
PART SEVEN
PART EIGHT
PART NINE
PART TEN
PART ELEVEN
PART TWELVE
PART THIRTEEN
PART FOURTEEN
PART FIFTEEN
PART SIXTEEN
PART SEVENTEEN
PART EIGHTEEN
PART NINETEEN
PART TWENTY
PART TWENTY ONE
PART TWENTY TWO
EXTRAS
none yet…
please don't copy, repost, or feed my work into ai, thanks!
Summary: Rooster has had his eye on you all week at work, and now you're at the Hard Deck looking too good to be true.
Warnings: some swears, adult banter
Length: 2700
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
Part 2 is now available as well! Thank you @mak-32 for all of the banners for this fic!
"Rooster! You're up, man!"
Bradley quickly shifted his gaze away from where you sat laughing at the bar with two of your friends. He had seen the three of you around base ever since he had been called back to Top Gun about a week ago. You and the other two lieutenants who had been working as the lead engineers on the upcoming attack on the uranium enrichment plant seemed to be letting loose on this Saturday night.
He was already used to seeing you take charge of the software interfaces and answer Mav's questions during preflight briefings, but seeing you drinking at the Hard Deck felt strangely intimate.
"Come on, Rooster! You're holding everyone up," Payback whined as he handed over the darts.
Bradley wasn't even sure why anyone agreed to play darts here at all, as it was just a revolving door of everyone taking turns losing to Hangman.
"Calm down, Payback. Hangman will have us all smoked within the hour anyway," Bradley retorted back.
Jake aimed his annoyingly cocky grin toward the other aviators as he toasted his beer in the air toward Bradley. "Glad you're finally able to acknowledge who is the superior man here, Rooster."
Bradley rolled his eyes and aggressively threw a dart. Twenty-five points, not bad. "I'm only acknowledging that the reason you are terrible at everything else in life is because you've spent so much time perfecting your damn dart game. But if you want to take that as a compliment, be my guest." The Dagger squad erupted into laughter around the dartboard.
Phoenix and Bob tried to reel in their giggles as Hangman shot them a scathing look, but Natasha, being the good friend she was, simply said, "He has a point, Bagman."
Bradley winked at Phoenix, and then threw his second and third darts in quick succession. "I need another beer," he said as Hangman got ready to take his turn.
Bradley hoped nobody would notice that he had walked all the way around the bar to flag down Penny for a beer. He wanted to be closer to where you were perched on your barstool, legs crossed and conversing with your coworkers. Your skirt was kind of short, definitely a departure from your khaki Naval officer uniform. Your hair was down and kind of messy, definitely a departure from the tight buns that you sported during work hours. God, you looked sexy, and the best part was, it didn't seem like you were even trying to.
"Get you another one?" Penny called to Bradley, pulling him away from his thoughts.
"Please," Bradley replied with a grin to his favorite bartender.
As Bradley set his empty bottle down on the bar, you turned slightly to your left, brushing your hair over your shoulder. He froze as your eyes met his from a few feet away. A look of recognition passed over your face, and a smile curled along your lips as you placed him as one of the aviators you'd been working with in Top Gun's Dagger squadron. You lifted your fingers into a casual wave in his direction.
Hi, you mouthed with another soft smile before turning away from him once again. Bradley felt like someone had punched him in the gut.
"It was just a wave and a smile, get it together," he muttered as Penny returned with two identical beer bottles. She set one down in front of Bradley and one down in front of you.
Bradley's mind went a little blank as he watched you pick up your bottle and take a sip. You liked the same beer that he did, how hot was that? He watched your throat as you swallowed. He thought about pressing his lips against your neck.
"Oh no, not you too?" Phoenix asked, effectively tearing Bradley's mind away from thoughts of running his cold bottle of beer along your neck and licking the condensation off your skin.
"Huh?" he grunted, finally turning toward Phoenix.
Phoenix just laughed at him and shook her head. "You're into her, too? I mean, I get it, she's very pretty and extremely smart. But if this is just going to become another thing for you and Bagman to get competitive over, I'm going to scream."
"What are you talking about?" Bradley asked, but he could feel his throat getting a little tight around the words. The idea of Hangman being interested in you made his skin crawl, and he felt his fingers tighten around his beer bottle.
"Bagman asked Lieutenant Y/L/N out yesterday. I overheard him do it," she replied casually.
Bradley's lips pressed into a thin line underneath his mustache. "You're not serious," he growled after a couple seconds. He couldn't help glancing over his shoulder to where you sat, head tilted back in laughter.
Phoenix suddenly gave you a sympathetic look. "Oh my goodness! You actually really like Lieutenant Y/L/N. That's interesting. Been awhile since I've seen you this interested in anyone. Usually it's just a local for the night."
Bradley glared at her and stole another glance at your gorgeous face. "Damn, I can't believe I fucked this up before I even did anything. But I guess that seems on brand for me," he said with a self deprecating shake of his head. Fucking Jake making a fucking move on you after only a couple days.
"She told him no," Phoenix informed him with a smirk. Bradley's heart pounded a little faster as his friend continued. "He asked her if she wanted to go out with him sometime, and then she looked him up and down and flat out told him she was not interested. It was the funniest thing I've seen in awhile!"
"Why didn't you lead off with that information!" Bradley sputtered. "I've been sweating over her all week long."
"Because I didn't even know you liked her until right now! You could have told me! I ate lunch in the cafeteria with her and some other officers the other day. She's very nice and funny and single," Phoenix said with a bright smile.
"Yeah, I know you sat with her! I was three tables away practically drooling on my lunch, trying to think of something to say to her," Bradley muttered before finishing his beer. "I don't even know that she's my type, being an officer and all. Plus, smart girls are intimidating."
"Well, go talk to her now. Buy her a drink. Tell her you love her," Phoenix said as she pushed Bradley through the crowd of people currently trying to get drinks at the bar.
"I can't say that! Quick, help me think of something normal to say!" But it was too late. With one final shove, Phoenix managed to push Bradley's large frame directly into the back of your barstool.
"Hey, watch it!" you yelled as some of your beer sloshed onto your bare knees. Since the Hard Deck was a Naval officer hangout, it didn't usually get too rowdy, but some of the guys here could be a bit aggressive at times.
As you spun your stool around to glare at whoever slammed into your seat, you came eye to chest with that cute aviator from Top Gun. The one you had noticed on the very first day of the mission. As your eyes travelled up, you saw that his sunglasses were hanging from his Hawaiian shirt, and his cheeks were flushed in embarrassment as he looked at the beer dripping down your legs.
"I-I... I'm so sorry!" he finally managed to say. "My friend is a clumsy menace who apparently can't walk correctly," he told you with a wince as he gestured toward Phoenix who was running away cackling.
It was funny, because you had enjoyed talking to her at lunchtime on Wednesday, and she hadn't seemed all that clumsy at the time.
You decided to let him off the hook and smiled up at him as you grabbed a napkin and wiped your legs dry. "It's not a problem. I just wanted to make sure I sounded really tough in case some guys were starting a fight behind me or something. You're Rooster, right?"
Bradley froze on the spot, flustered that you actually remembered his call sign. Not many non-aviators cared about using them. "Yeah. I'm Rooster. Or Bradley. Or Lieutenant Bradshaw," he blurted out. Why did he suddenly seem to have no control over this conversation?
You cocked your head up at him and pursed your pretty lips. "You want me to call you Lieutenant Bradshaw right now? While we're at the Hard Deck?"
"No! Um, you don't have to, obviously." God, he sounded like a moron. "Let me get you another drink," he managed to say while raising two fingers toward Penny. She nodded, acknowledging the drink order, as she looked between you both with a slight smile.
Bradley took a deep breath and said, "Please, just call me Bradley. Or Rooster. I'm not picky.
"And you can just call me Y/N. I don't have a fun call sign," you said with a laugh.
Bradley already knew your first name, but he felt a little giddy that you had given him permission to actually use it. "Okay, Y/N."
You smiled brightly up at Bradley just as one of your coworkers placed her hand on your shoulder. You turned toward the now vacant barstools where your good friends from work had just been sitting. "Hey, we're going to go. It's getting late," Lieutenant Wilson said with a wink as she turned to leave.
"See you both later," Lieutenant Harvey added before he turned toward the exit as well.
You just nodded toward them before turning your attention back to Bradley. It was nearly midnight, but you really had no desire to leave now that he was sliding into the newly vacant seat next to you. As your beers arrived, you took a minute to check him out. He was tall. Like really tall. And his muscular arms and tan skin were hard to look away from. His curly hair was practically begging you to run your fingers through it. And there were some scars on his face and neck that your hands were aching to touch. Maybe you'd had too much to drink? You should have left with your friends.
"It's cool if I sit for awhile?" Bradley asked you as he slid one of the identical beers in front of you with a hopeful smile.
"Of course," you replied, certain he had noticed you checking him out. "And thanks for the beer. You didn't have to."
Bradley just shrugged as he took a drink. "It was my fault you ended up wearing your last one. And I'm just happy you have good taste in drinks."
You grinned into your beer bottle as you took a sip. Then you noticed Phoenix pop up directly across the room from where you and Bradley sat. She was giving you both an appraising look as Bradley narrowed his eyes at her before turning his stool toward you and completely ignoring her. Phoenix eventually made her way back toward the pool table where all of the aviators seemed to congregate. Well, everyone except for Rooster who now had his large body mere inches from yours.
The bar was still packed, and it felt like everyone was pushing the two of you closer and closer together. The music from the jukebox blended with all of the conversation, muffling everything into a pleasant hum as you looked up at Bradley. His brown eyes snapped up from gazing at your body to meet yours.
"You look really pretty," he told you. "I mean, you look nice all the time, even in head to toe khaki." Bradley's helpful brain quickly reminded him just how good your ass looked in your uniform pants.
You laughed, "Wow, what a compliment. The Navy really does not discriminate when it comes to making everyone wear the same horrible khaki color." You carefully reach out your left hand and run it along the fabric of Bradley's colorful Hawaiian button down. "What's with the shirt?"
Bradley tracked your hand with his eyes as it brushed against his shirt fabric. Surely he was dreaming. There was no way this was actually happening to him. He was alone with you in a tiny mythical bubble inside the Hard Deck, and you were touching his clothing. You. The officer who he'd been gleefully staring at all week any time you were in the meeting rooms with him. And now he knew how sweet you smelled and what your laugh sounded like.
"What, you don't like my shirt?" he asked you teasingly, feeling a little bolder as your wandering fingers grazed his arm.
"I didn't say that. It's just not a look many guys can pull off," you replied with a quirk of your lips.
"Oof, that's harsh. So is it working for me or not?" Bradley asked you as he leaned in a little closer.
Your heart was pounding in your ears as you tugged lightly on his shirt collar. "Yeah, it's working for you." Had you actually said that out loud, to Bradley? You really needed to pay your tab and leave before you said anything else.
Bradley's eyes went a little wider before narrowing and locking with yours again. He licked his lips before asking, "But more importantly, is it working for you?"
Your jaw dropped open as you gaped at him for a few seconds before you snapped your mouth shut. You had to force your gaze away from him as you managed to say, "It's not not working for me."
"I'll take that as a good sign," he whispered with a chuckle.
You could tell your face was bright red. Bradley Bradshaw was clearly a shameless flirt. He probably did this with every single girl. But you were still eating it up. You couldn't even help yourself. You literally had butterflies, something Hangman hadn't given you, even when he'd touched the small of your back and asked you out.
Meeting Bradley's eyes again, you asked, "And what's with your mustache, Rooster?"
He grinned at you as he set his empty beer bottle on the bar. "Is that working for you too, Y/N?"
"Surprisingly, yes. It is working for me," you managed to say as Bradley's leg rubbed against your bare knees.
"I like the sound of that," he said, his voice getting raspier. Then he added with a slightly bashful smile, "Everything, every single thing, about you is working for me, too."
You were certain your body was going to melt right off the stool and onto the floor. The look Bradley was giving you was enough to make you combust. Sure, you'd thought he was very cute when you met him last week, but now he was making you feel scalding hot. This banter felt like foreplay, and you had not planned on a night like this.
A loud roar of cheers came from near the pool tables, slightly breaking the tension around the two of you. "Well Rooster, on that note, I'm going to head out before I say anything I might regret." You desperately wanted to grab him by his shirt collar and yank him outside. And the only problem with that was the fact that you actually kind of liked him, and you still had to work with him for the next few weeks.
As you left some cash on the bar to cover your tab, Bradley stood and reached out for your hand. You let him walk you to the door, and he lightly held your hand the whole way there. "Thanks," you murmured as you dared to meet his eyes. "I'll see you on Monday."
"I can't wait for Monday morning," he said with a huge grin as he released your hand and briefly let his fingers run along your wrist as you turned to leave. With one last smile over your shoulder, you vanished through the door.
"That looked very, very promising," Phoenix said as she had somehow materialized next to Bradley.
"I am a goner," he muttered as he ran his hand along the fabric of his shirt where your fingers had been.
Is It Working For You? masterlist (Rooster x Reader)
Rooster has had his eye on you all week at work, and now you’re at the Hard Deck looking too good to be true. The Roo and Baby Girl origin story! roosterforme masterlist
Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 12 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Getting rid of Vanessa quickly is one problem to solve, but Bradley is afraid you'll also be ready to leave after the interruption. Tonight was supposed to be special after so many months of thinking about it. But even when things don't go as planned, he's beginning to see that you want to be around him as much as he needs to be around you.
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader
Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist
You were just across the room from Bradley, but it felt like you were miles away right now as he pulled his front door open a little wider to reveal Vanessa. She looked completely calm, as if she was supposed to be at his house. Like he hadn't dumped her months ago. She took a step closer, ready to walk right inside, and his stomach lurched.
"Fuck," he groaned, his face heating up with embarrassment as all of the desire he'd just been enjoying started to recede from his body. "What do you want?"
She already got her fucking water bottle back, so he had no idea how she was going to respond, but he was surprised to hear her say, "I wanted to see you."
Bradley blinked at her wordlessly. He had forgotten the details of her face as soon as he'd seen yours for the first time, and now he could barely remember any of the details of the time he'd spent with her at all. It seemed like a completely foreign concept that she was here to see him. "Why?" he blurted out, and she laughed in response.
"We ended things a little rough before you left, and I'll admit I could have handled it a bit better. But I did miss you while you were away. I wanted to show you how much."
She tried to shoulder her way through the door as he said, "Vanessa. I am so confused right now. We broke up."
"Okay, but now that you're back on dry land, we can both come to our senses."
She must have thought her words sounded reasonable, but they were making his skin crawl. He didn't want her at his house. The uncomfortable feeling was creeping in that he associated for so long with being taken advantage of. He wanted her to leave even as she smiled up at him and reached a hand out to let it rest on his chest.
"I did come to my senses, Vanessa. That's why I broke things off," he said, voice dry and raspy. He was terribly uncomfortable, and he was starting to panic when he felt a warmth at his side and a hand wrap around his bicep. Vanessa's eyes went wide as soon as she saw you, and the look on her face was so comical, Bradley almost laughed.
There was no way you didn't hear every word of their conversation, but you just gave him a little squeeze and smiled as you said, "I'm ready for you to come back to the couch now."
"Who is this?" Vanessa snapped with a tone of jealousy, which was rich coming from her. She was looking at you in disgust as Bradley tried to get his thoughts in order. Was it okay to call you his girlfriend? He was debating with himself, but it didn't even matter. You were already responding.
"I'm someone who actually cares about Bradley. You must be Vanessa. His ex." Your tone was even, but Vanessa's face started to turn red.
"You've been back for like three days," she muttered in response. "You sure moved on fast."
Bradley pinched the bridge of his nose. "I mentally moved on as soon as we broke up, Vanessa. Months ago. You picked up your water bottle. I've got nothing else for you here."
He was already embarrassed enough, and then she huffed and stomped her foot at him. Had he actually dated this woman? He had, and now you were witness to his mortification as she tossed her hair over her shoulder. "I was going to at least offer to blow you while you thought about where you wanted to take me for dinner tomorrow night, but you can just fuck off, Bradley."
His hand on the door finally sprung to action, and he started pushing it closed as he said, "Goodbye, Vanessa."
"Bye," you said, waving your free hand. You turned so the front of your body was pressed against the front of his as he locked his door once again. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah," he grunted in response, because there was really nothing else to say. He'd been daydreaming about this evening for so long, he should have known nothing would go right. "But I wouldn't blame you if you want to go home."
You started to tug on his arms as you shook your head. "The only place I want to go is back to your couch."
"Alright," he replied, cheeks absolutely burning with embarrassment. He couldn't decide if Vanessa was serious or if she just needed to get the last word in, but if she ruined his chances with you, he didn't know what he was going to do.
This time you settled down on the cushion next to him instead of on his lap. This was decidedly not where he thought he would be right now when you had your hands inside his shirt just a few minutes ago. "I'm sorry," he whispered before turning to look at you. "I had no idea she was going to show up. I never anticipated seeing her again, actually." When you reached for his hand in response, he swallowed hard.
"So... you met me through my letter right after you broke up with her?" you asked carefully.
There was no point in denying it. "Yeah. I broke things off shortly before I left home. Then a few weeks into my deployment, I got the first package from you and your kids. And I wasn't lying when I told you it changed everything for the better."
You sighed and kissed his scars, and Bradley's heart skipped around in his chest as you said, "I really had perfect timing, huh?"
"You're not upset?" he asked, holding your hand tighter. He didn't give a single fuck about his entitled ex; he just cared about you.
When you shook your head, your nose brushed along his stubble and the edge of his mustache. "Just annoyed that she tried to make you feel bad while simultaneously trying to get you back. Who does that?"
"Not you," he said easily, and he could feel you smile against his cheek.
"I'm hungry," you told him. "Let's eat pizza together. And then I'd like to get back to where we left off."
He pulled you onto his lap as he dug his phone out of his pocket. "Yeah?" he asked hopefully as you draped your arms around his neck.
"Yeah. You promised me the couch date ages ago, and I want the full experience."
He exhaled the breath he wasn't even aware he had been holding, and then he kissed you and asked, "What kind of pizza do you want, Gorgeous?"
----------------------------
You were not that surprised that Vanessa showed up at Bradley's house. He was handsome and kind, and of course his ex would eventually realize how good she had it before she messed up. But she already had her chance with him, and you noticed right away how his demeanor changed as soon as he opened the door. The sweet way he'd been looking at you since the first time he called you over FaceTime was nothing like the way he looked at her. And now you got to witness how awful she was for yourself.
When there was another knock on the door, you looked up at his face from where you were snuggled up against his bicep holding his hand. He'd been more subdued for the past twenty minutes as you and he actually watched the movie you brought along with you. That was admittedly not something you thought was actually going to happen. But when he looked at you he smiled before leaning in for a kiss.
"That better be dinner this time," you muttered, ready to rocket off the couch if Vanessa dared to come back again.
He chuckled and said, "If it's not pizza, I'm slamming the door and coming right back."
He kissed you softly one last time before standing, and once you confirmed it really was the delivery driver, you went into the kitchen to grab some beers from his refrigerator. You found four different kinds along with another bottle of Prosecco and some seltzers. The kitchen itself was beautiful, and the window overlooked his small yard. You were about to start searching for a bottle opener when Bradley wrapped his arms around you from behind.
"I never did take you on a tour of my house," he murmured, rubbing his mustache along your cheek. "Now or after we eat?"
"Bradley," you laughed, and he just held you tighter. The kitchen smelled like pizza, and you could already hear his stomach growling. "You won't make it five more minutes without food."
"You're so right, Gorgeous," he replied, spinning you in his arms so you were facing him. That crooked smile was teasing at his lip as he said, "Thanks for not going home because of earlier. I think I would have been devastated if you left."
He seemed almost relieved as soon as he told you that. "It's going to take more to scare me off than your ex girlfriend, but if she comes back here again, I can't guarantee she'll leave without a black eye. I don't like how she was talking to you." The words were out of your mouth before you could really consider them, but Bradley looked even more relieved as that adorable smile warmed up all of his features. "Besides, this is my couch date. Mine and yours, and nobody else is going to fuck it up."
His smile grew as he pushed you back against the island with his hands on your hips. "I kind of like it when you say bad words," he whispered, his tongue darting out at the corner of his mouth. "Why is that so hot?"
"Because I'm a fucking elementary school teacher," you replied as innocently as you could without laughing, and you were rewarded with a kiss that let you know exactly how hot he thought your potty mouth was. Then he groaned as his stomach started growling louder. "You need to be fed."
He released your lips but tilted your chin up with his fingertips. "Right after dinner and some beers, I'm going to show you around, and then we're going to get right back to kissing."
You shrugged and said, "I kind of figured we'd be kissing while you showed me around."
"That's convenient, since I can't seem to stop." This time he kissed your neck before handing you paper plates. He piled one with two slices of pizza before you told him to stop, and then he piled four on the other plate after taking an enormous bite out of one. "Meet me on the couch?" he asked, patting your butt as you walked away. When you paused to glance back at him, he was still watching you. "I'll be right there," he promised.
You only had to sit on the couch alone for a few seconds, thinking about how badly you wanted him, before he joined you with two opened beers and a roll of paper towels. "Here you go, Baby," he muttered, handing over one of the bottles before dropping down on the couch at your side.
You watched his tall, muscular body as he reached for his stacked up plate of pizza slices and let it rest on his thigh before he draped his free arm around your shoulders and took another sip of beer. Somehow everything he did was graceful, but it was the way he turned to you, casually kissed your lips and said, "If you like this pizza place, we can order from there again," before folding a slice in half and devouring it that made you melt a little bit.
Of course you were going to want to order more pizza and have another couch date night. You took a bite, and the food was amazing. Bradley started man-spreading on the couch which made you have to snuggle in against him a little more. And then you were both taking sips from his bottle of beer since yours was on the coffee table, and you didn't want to move away from him to get it. And the movie was all but forgotten as the two of you started ranking the local pizza restaurants as he finished his fourth slice.
"I liked the pizza," you informed him as he reached for the roll of paper towels. "And I even like that you're using paper towels instead of napkins. It's oddly charming."
With a soft groan, he took the nearly empty beer bottle from your hand and set it aside. You squealed as he murmured, "Come here," and scooped you onto his lap before stretching out along the couch with his legs hanging over the arm. You were straddling his waist with your hands resting on his shoulders as he softly said, "I'll get you pizza or Thai food or Salvatore's as much as you want." His eyes were soft and sincere as he looked up at you and said, " I don't care. I love all of it. I love spending time with you."
When you leaned down to kiss him, your knee slipped, and you started laughing as he held you in place with his big hands on your waist before you could end up on the floor. "You're too big for your couch, Bradley."
"I tried to tell that ages ago," he replied, guiding his hand slowly down your thigh until he was pulling you back into place. "Didn't stop me from fantasizing about having you on top of me exactly like this." His cheeks were pink as you leaned in and successfully kissed him this time. "God, Gorgeous," he whispered. "The real thing is just so much better than the emailed version, and that was enough to get me going for months."
"Bradley," you whined softly.
"Say it again," he groaned, hand tightening on your thigh. His head was tipped back, dark gaze glued to your lips as you ran your thumb along his scarred cheek. You'd never been this comfortable around a man before. Even now he wasn't rushing anything, though you both knew what you wanted. He'd been giving you one last chance all evening to pull away if that's what you decided to do after Vanessa stopped by. But your heart was telling you with absolute certainty that this man was a keeper.
Your lips met his scars, and the tip of your tongue grazed along his stubble before you whispered right next to his ear, "Bradley." Immediately you felt one big hand at the small of your back, hot and rough against your bare skin, guiding you flatter against his body.
"Oh hell," he gasped before devouring your mouth. Your fingers tugged on his wavy hair as his hand slid lower until you felt his fingers slip inside the elastic waistband of your leggings. He held you in place and rolled his hips up to meet you as you moaned into his mouth. He was deliciously hard just for you. If you couldn't have all of him soon, you were afraid you might pass out.
You could vaguely hear the sound of the movie playing in the background as you explored every inch of his mustache with your lips. Bradley's entire hand was inside your leggings now, and if he wasn't holding you so tight, you knew you'd be on the floor. With every exploratory grind of your hips, you got wetter. The stretchy fabric of your leggings was thin, and you could feel him through his jeans as he grunted deep at the back of his throat, "Gorgeous. I want you."
"Oh my god." His other hand was inching his sweatshirt up along your body while he sucked on your neck, and it took you longer than it should have to formulate words as the butterflies went wild. "I want you, too." You helped him pull the shirt a little faster over your head, leaving you laying on top of him in your bra practically panting as you said, "Take me to your room."
He smiled before kissing you hard, and then you were in his arms as he stood up. "You want the full tour of the house right now?" he teased, but his smile slipped as soon as you unzipped his jeans while you shook your head.
"Bedroom. The rest can wait."
---------------------------------
Bradley was torn. Part of him wanted to hold you in his arms all night and list off everything he loved about you. The other part wanted you naked and in his bed. He'd never had such strong feelings of love colliding with such strong feelings of lust in his entire lift, and it was honestly a bit disorienting. You were somehow everything he wanted, all wrapped up in one Gorgeous woman. He still couldn't believe you'd stood by his side and let Vanessa know you were with him now, and therefore maybe a third part of him wanted to reward you just for being so good to him.
"Bedroom?" It was a question this time as you kissed him, and he felt your exploring fingers make their way inside his jeans.
"Let's go, Baby."
Bradley had to stop twice on the way, because you were too fucking perfect. You were too perfect not to press up against the wall in the hallway, and it felt too good when your hand found its way inside his briefs. "Shit," he gasped, eyes wide as you touched him, his hands planted on the wall on either side of your head. He kissed you over and over again as your hand wrapped around his cock, and he never wanted this to end.
When he started to toy with your bra straps, you whispered, "Take it off."
His cock was held snug in your hand as he undid the clasp at your back and eased the lace away from your chest. You were looking up at him, lips parted like you were trying to gauge his reaction to your body, and he couldn't help but smile as he took in every inch of your tits. "Come on. You know you're Gorgeous. I'm sure you can tell just how much I want you."
When you gave his balls a little squeeze in response, he knew he needed to get you through the doorway and into his room. Your bra fell to the floor as he guided you inside. His desk lamp was glowing, and somehow your body looked even more ethereal bathed in the soft orange light.
You glanced around the room even as you let him tuck you against his body, and he kissed the top of your head as you whispered, "I've shamelessly thought about being here with you." Your hands were on his abs again, pushing his tee shirt up his body, and Bradley could feel your furled nipples against his skin as he tugged it over his head. Every time he tried to speak, a needy sound escaped him instead as your hands smoothed along his chest and down his sides. "Oh my god, Bradley," you whined, looking up at him with wide eyes. "I've touched myself, too. Imagining you were with me."
"Fuck," he groaned, the last bit of restraint snapping inside him as soon as you said his name and those sweet, filthy words. Of course he'd been losing his mind over the very same sorts of thoughts, and as his mouth collided with yours, he led you backwards to his bed. You gasped and laughed when you landed on your back, tits bouncing beautifully as you looked up at him in surprise. Then he was on top of you, tasting your nipple, hooking his hand around your thigh as it crept up to his hip.
You were panting his name quietly as he inhaled the scent of your skin and tasted both of your breasts. "You're so soft," he whispered, talking about your skin and your body and your sweet personality. "I can't get enough."
With your fingers in his hair, you were rubbing yourself gently up against him, and it was making him hard beyond belief. He didn't know how much more he could handle before he needed to be inside you, but tasting your skin and teasing every inch of you was something that should be savored.
"You don't have to get enough," you whispered. "Not tonight. I already want more."
Bradley's hands were on your leggings, pulling them down along with your underwear. He fought with them for a second, all tangled up with your legs, and then he kissed your giggles away as he ran his rough fingertips along your pussy. When your back arched off the bed, you gasped, and he dragged his middle finger gently along your slit, bucking against your leg at the slick wetness he found there.
You were naked beneath him, reaching for him, telling him you needed his kisses, and it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen or heard. He tried to take his time, taste you everywhere, but he needed to fuck you more than he needed to breathe. He was dizzy as he stood, jeans halfway down his thighs, cock hanging free from his underwear. Then you sat up in bed, knees bent as you squeezed your legs together and watched him get the rest of the way undressed in awe.
His brain was buzzing as you reached for him, and he took your hand in his, kissing your fingers as he said, "Let me grab the condoms I bought." He walked to his dresser, hands shaking with excitement as he tore into the box, but when he brought one back to the bed and settled in next to you, he noticed you were chewing on your lip.
"Do we really need this?" you asked softly, tapping the wrapper as you kissed him.
Your other hand was wrapped around his cock once again as he grunted, "I don't know, Baby. Do we?"
"Nope." You tossed it across the room, looped your arms around his neck and said, "I want to feel you."
When he eased you onto your back, his cock was nestled against your pussy, and he was completely lost beyond hope. "Yeah, Gorgeous?" he rasped, easing his tip closer to your opening. "You want to feel me?"
You rolled your hips, accepting him into your warmth, and Bradley thrust deep. He felt like the wind had been knocked from his lungs as you wrapped your leg around his thigh and kissed his name against his lips. You welcomed his touch everywhere as he fucked you. Your hands and mouth found his hair and his scarred cheek, like you were made for him. There was no hesitation or uncertainty. Now that he knew every inch of you, he was never going to want anything else.
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Bradley's body was big and warm, and you could smell him everywhere. His hands were deliciously rough on your skin even as his touch was gentle and sure. Every sensation was brand new while still making you feel comfortable, as if you and he had been here before. You had in your mind at least. You'd considered so many things when it came to Bradley's body while he was still deployed, but just like his exquisite letters and emails, this was even better in person.
You shivered as he stroked your clit, wrapping your leg around him a little tighter, wanting more. Another steady swipe of his thumb, and you were whining. "You like that," he mused softly, and it wasn't a question. "You want more." Also, not a question. He seemed to know what you wanted and how you'd respond even before you did, and when he pulled your nipple between his lips, your back arched off the bed.
"Oh my god, Bradley," you moaned, looking at his handsome face as he gave you thrust after delicious thrust. "Our texts are going to be filthy after this," you gasped, and the intense look on his face receded a bit as a smile found his lips.
"You're damn right," he grunted before dipping his lips down to kiss you again before finding your shoulder and then your neck. "I can't wait to figure out every single little thing that turns you on. I'm gonna take my time and find all of them."
You believed him implicitly, especially since he was already doing a stellar job of making you slowly lose your mind. When his big hands found your hips, he held you in place and went a little harder as sweat started to bead on his forehead. He watched your face for a reaction, and as soon as your lips parted in a long whimper, his mouth was on yours. You held onto his shoulders as he tasted your tongue and told you that you were the only girl for him. Whispered that you belonged with him.
Soon you were slipping, remembering all of the sweet things he told you, both typed and spoken. "I'm so close," you pleaded, needing him to get you all the way there. It had been so long since someone made you feel this good, and this was the very first time a man ever made you feel this vital to his own happiness. Without prompting, Bradley circled your clit with his thumb as you tasted the bead of sweat on his cheek, and you were done. Your orgasm rocked through you as you cried out his name, and his thrusts slowed to an almost languid pace that just made you get louder and clench around him harder.
"Jesus," he panted, smoothing his hand along your skin as he watched you come apart beneath him. "Fucking gorgeous." Bradley's fingers curled around the back of your neck, and his thumb grazed along your lip as he watched you. His handsome face was flushed, and his movements were jerky as he rasped, "Where do you want me to cum?"
"Anywhere."
A string of desire laced expletives flowed from his lips along with your name. He buried his face in the crook of your neck and fucked you until his hips stopped moving, and you reveled in the warm feeling of being full when he didn't pull out. His body was heavy in a good way, and you dragged your fingers lazily through his hair as he murmured, "Am I hurting you?"
"No," you promised, wrapping your calf tighter around his thigh. "Don't you dare move."
The rumble of his deep chuckle and the scrape of his mustache against your neck made you shiver. "I'm not going anywhere, Gorgeous." You just held him to your body while he stayed inside you and treated your skin to little nips and kisses. But eventually his stomach started growling, and you giggled when he groaned. "I don't even feel self conscious around you," he muttered, reluctantly pulling his body away from yours. "Let's destroy the rest of the extra large pizza together while I show you the rest of my house."
Truly, nothing sounded better to you. Bradley located his discarded shirt on the floor and collected you in his arms before pulling it over your head. Then he tugged his underwear into place while he kissed you, and you led the way back to the couch. You could feel how sticky he'd left you between your thighs, but you didn't immediately do anything about it, because he was grabbing the pizza box from the kitchen and then pulling you down onto his lap on the couch. His chin and forehead were cool and tasted a little salty as you kissed him and snuggled against his body. This was exactly how his couch was supposed to be for the two of you as you basked in the way he made you feel magical just by looking at you.
He held up a piece of pizza with a laugh and let you take a bite before he ate most of it. The movie had ended a while ago, and the menu options were playing softly in the background as you finished your snack together with his warm body cradling yours. "During the house tour, can we visit your shower together?" you asked him, running your fingers through his sparse patch of chest hair and down to his abs. "Before bed?"
"Already on the agenda," he informed you, standing again with you in his arms. He led you around, mostly showing off his piano, and then he took you into his spotlessly clean bathroom. He turned on the shower, and as the water warmed up, he pulled his shirt over your head and left you standing naked in front of him with his arm wrapped around you. "I'd be lying if I said I didn't think about this all the time," he murmured, running his thumb lazily along your nipple as you pressed your thighs together in need. "But I think about how much I love your face and your voice and the way you make me feel just as much. Maybe more."
"Bradley," you gasped, and he treated you to a needy little grunt that left you reaching for his face. "That's the kind of stuff a boyfriend would say."
His expression didn't change much, but his smile grew wider as he told you, "Well I want to keep saying it. So why not let me?"
"Let you what? Be my boyfriend?" you asked, heart beating a little faster as those familiar butterflies found their way back.
"Yeah, Gorgeous. I'm dying for it. And we've kind of already been doing this thing together for months, right?"
"Right," you agreed, pulling him toward the shower as steam filled the room. He came willingly, an expectant look on his face as you said, "You can be my boyfriend, Bradley."
His lips found yours, and they stayed there for a while.
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Vanessa wanted him to come to his senses, but he already did! HA! He and Gorgeous are like magnets that just want to be touching at all times. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls
Summary: When Phoenix signs Bradley up for speed dating on Valentine's Day, he is skeptical. But after he meets the woman of his dreams, he's not afraid to admit his best friend was right.
Warnings: Pure fluff, adult banter, some cursing
Length: 2300 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
This was written for my Love Is In The Air playlist challenge! Thanks for reading! And please check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun.
Bradley strolled into the Hard Deck, got a beer from Jimmy, and then made his way to the pool table to join his friends.
"What's up?" he asked Phoenix when she eyed him a little nervously.
"Now, don't get mad, okay?" She set her pool cue down and patted his shoulder.
"What did you do?" Bradley asked, frozen with his beer halfway to his lips.
Phoenix smoothed out his Hawaiian shirt across his chest and shoulders, and then she took his chin in her hand and turned his face from side to side. "Yeah, okay, should be fine," she muttered, examining his appearance.
"Nat, seriously, what did you do?"
"Well.... I signed you up for speed dating," she informed him, wincing before he even responded.
"No," he said, adamantly shaking his head. "Nope." Bradley sipped his beer and turned to grab some darts.
"And it starts in thirty minutes," Phoenix added, her eyes going wide as Bradley glared at her.
"Natasha, I'm not going."
"But you're lonely! And it's Valentine's Day! You need a girl!"
Bradley scoffed. "I'm not lonely. I'm... picky."
"Too picky, Rooster. Just go to the speed dating thing, please? I already spent twenty bucks to sign you up," she pleaded. "It comes with a free drink!"
Bradley chuckled. "You think I'll find a girl there? You're insane, Nat. It's going to be the weirdest assortment of people under the San Diego sun. Crazy people who collect cats and probably a bunch of basement dwellers."
But as he watched his friend's face fall, he felt a little guilty. "I just thought you might have fun, you know, putting yourself out there. It's been a year since you dated anyone," she said softly.
Bradley took a sip of his beer and ran his hand over his face. "Fine. I'll go, but only to prove to you that I'm right and you're wrong."
He watched her jump up and down a few times and clap her hands. "Yes! It's at the Surfside Tavern, and if you leave now, you'll arrive just in time," she said, taking his beer from his hand and pushing him toward the door. "Text me later and let me know how it goes... unless you know, you're busy getting hot with a basement dweller."
Bradley just rolled his eyes and headed toward the Bronco.
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"Let me get you signed in! What's your name?" asked a young man with Connor on his name tag. He was seated at a small table at the front of the bar, and now Bradley was getting a little nervous. There were a lot of people here tonight.
"Bradley Bradshaw," he replied, taking a name tag sticker from Connor.
"Just grab your drink at the bar and head on back to the area where the tables are set up. I'll get everyone started soon," said Connor with a smile.
Bradley took a deep breath, half tempted to bail, but then he thought it would be worthwhile to get his free drink since Nat stole his other one. He got a beer from the bartender and then turned toward the back of the room, where there were a bunch of guys were wearing suits.
"Shit," he muttered, glancing down at his own jeans and bright shirt.
When he looked up, he quickly braced himself as you accidentally bumped into him, the drink in your martini glass sloshing precariously close to the rim. "Sorry!" you gasped, looking up at him.
He steadied you, wrapping on big hand around your waist as you regained your balance. And Bradley instantly knew there was no chance he would be bailing early tonight.
"Thanks," you whispered, tapping your martini glass to his beer bottle with a grin.
You took a slow step away from him as Bradley whispered, "Damn." You looked like a real treat, with bright eyes and kind of a shy smile. And as you walked toward all of the guys in suits, you turned to smile back at him over your shoulder.
"Okay, let's get started!" Connor announced, pulling your attention away from Bradley and toward him. "Let's have the ladies each take a seat at one of the tables, and the guys will rotate around the room. You'll have five minutes to get to know each person, and then I'll tell you to switch. You can grab a notepad and a pencil if you want to keep track of names. Let's go!"
Bradley watched you take a seat and cross your legs, subtly glancing at him again. He was pulled toward your table like a magnet, barely able to control himself. But it looked like he wasn't the only one.
"Fucking suits," he groaned when another guy sat down across from you. Bradley doubled back and chose a table with someone else, practically tripping since he could barely look away.
"Hi! I'm Bridget!" said the bubbly woman now seated across from him.
"I'm Bradley," he replied with a smile, trying to discreetly count how many tables away you were sitting.
"Oh my God! We both have B names! That's insane!" Bridget gushed.
Bradley laughed nervously. "Both are BR names, actually," he muttered. Then he watched her scribble down his name with KEEPER next to it.
Oh shit. He had to endure five minutes of Bridget listing off potential names for their theoretical future children. Bruce, Brandy, Bryce, Brinley, Brooke and Brynn were apparently all viable options, and when Connor announced that five minutes was up, Bradley launched out of his seat.
He tried to hustle over to your table, but Connor was on him right away. "We're rotating in order. Remember?"
Bradley looked over to where you were sitting, shaking hands with your second "date". But you were looking at Bradley and smiling. It looked like you were trying not to laugh.
Bradley glared down at Connor, towering over him. "Come on, man. See that one over there? I wanna talk to her."
But Connor was not deterred, and rather showed Bradley to his next table with Angie. "What do you do for a living?" she asked, smiling at him across the table.
"I'm a Naval aviator," he replied, trying to get a peek of you talking with Mr. Suit.
"Oh," Angie replied, and her smile turned into a frown. "I'm in the Army." Bradley watched her jot down his name and write NO next to it. Then she took out her phone and started to play Candy Crush.
Once again, when it was time to switch tables, Bradley jumped up and rushed toward yours.
"Sir, we've been over this before," Connor called after him, but Bradley made his way to where you were sitting with a different guy who was wearing a full-blown tuxedo.
"Hi," Bradley said, reaching out to shake your hand. He checked your name tag this time; he just fucking knew you'd have a pretty name. And your hand was so small and soft, he held onto it for a moment.
You looked up at him, and an adorable giggle escaped your lips before you also said, "Hi."
"I just wanted to make sure you know I'm coming up in two more tables," he told you very seriously.
You nodded your head and pressed your lips together to try to stifle your smile. "Yeah, I noticed that when you tried to knock several people over a few minutes ago."
Bradley smiled at you, already loving your sense of humor.
"Don't write down anything flattering about him, okay?" Bradley nodded toward the guy in the tux who just scowled in response.
Your shoulders shook with silent laughter. "I'll see what I can do."
"Sir!" Connor scolded. "This is not your table!"
"Yes, Connor, I know," Bradley grumbled, heading over to sit with Michelle.
Michelle eyed him cautiously. "I take it you're only interested in her?" she asked, gesturing toward your table.
Bradley shrugged. "Sorry, Michelle."
She shrugged too. "That's okay. I really liked Simon. Want to hear about the novel I'm writing?"
Bradley was enthralled after five minutes of Michelle explaining the intricate plot of the detective thriller she was working on. "Damn it, Michelle. I need to know how it ends."
She smiled and jotted down his email address. "I'll put you on my mailing list."
Finally Bradley was seated at the table next to yours, just a few feet away from you. "Hi," he said again, and he could tell he must have the dumbest look on his face.
He watched your lips curl into the most radiant smile. "Hi, Bradley." God, he felt light headed as soon as you said his name.
"I'll be there soon," he promised, and you blushed a little bit as you turned toward another guy in a fucking suit.
Bradley turned toward Cara and asked, "Has every other guy been in a suit?"
She nodded. "One was in a tuxedo."
"Huh," he grunted, trying so hard not to focus on you while Cara asked him questions about himself.
"Bradley, where do you work?"
He shook his head, "No... I'm originally from Virginia."
"That's not what I asked."
But Bradley couldn't help it. You were sipping your martini and re-crossing your legs. And the guy you were with sounded boring as hell.
"Are you even listening to me?" Cara asked, breaking his concentration
"Oh, uh... sorry, no," he replied, smiling at you as you glanced at him.
"Rotate!" Connor called, and Bradley was practically shoving the suit guy out of his seat at your table.
"Finally," he muttered, smirking as he sat down. Your cheeks were a little flushed as you spun your martini glass on the table by the stem. When your gaze slid up his chest and neck and landed on his face, he asked you, "You've gotta tell me, what are you doing here? You could get a date just walking around Target in your pajamas."
You laughed and bit your lip, tipping your head back to look at the ceiling before meeting his eyes again. "I don't wear pajamas," you told him with a smirk of your own.
Bradley sucked in a breath and let it out slowly. "I rest my case."
"What about you, Bradley? You're cute. I like your mustache. And thank God you're not wearing a suit. You could probably get a date just by shoving the previous guy out of his seat and asking me."
He nodded his head and tried not to smile. You were so fun. And you were quick on the draw. "We'll get there, babe. But actually... my best friend made me come tonight. She thinks I'm too picky when it comes to women."
"Oh yeah? Well, what do you like?" you asked, raising the glass to your lips again and taking another sip.
"So far, I like you. A lot."
Your cheeks were even more flushed now, and Bradley wanted to talk to you all night long.
"What do you look for in a guy?" he asked, leaning his forearms on the table to get a little closer to you.
You leaned a bit closer as well as you told him, "I need someone who can make me laugh. It doesn't hurt if he's handsome. And I think mustaches just moved to the top of my nonnegotiable list."
Bradley licked his lips. "And what's your ideal first date, babe? I'm planning on making it very memorable for you; already hoping for a second."
You laughed again. "Padres game. Complete with beer and ballpark nachos."
"Seriously, why are you here?"
You nibbled on your lip for a beat before you said, "My sister made me come. She said she's so tired of listening to me complain that there are no cute, funny, single guys with mustaches who aren't afraid to wear a green and yellow Hawaiian print shirt in public."
Bradley's entire body was humming. "There's nothing about you that would turn me off, is there?" he asked, and his voice was raspier now.
He watched you lick your lips and shake your head. "No. Unless you can't stand smart girls who like to be a little sassy when they aren't wearing any pajamas."
Bradley audibly groaned and you giggled.
"Rotate!" Connor called, and everyone was up and moving around.
"Fuck, no. I'm not moving, Connor!" Bradley called over his shoulder. Your eyes were glittering with amusement, and Bradley was going to leave this bar with you if it killed him.
Connor walked over and sighed. "You've already had five minutes together."
"That's not long enough. Have you seen her, Connor?" Bradley asked, nodding at you. "Fifty bucks if you tack on another five minutes, my man," Bradley promised him, making you crack up across the table.
Connor just muttered, "Before he wouldn't sit down, now he won't get up."
Bradley felt you take his hand in yours, and his eyes were immediately on your face. "Let's get out of here, Bradley," you suggested. "Go to another bar? Or go for a walk?"
"Absolutely," he replied, hopping up and pulling you to your feet.
You led him through the bar, smiling at him over your shoulder as you laced your fingers through his, and Bradley could already tell you were his perfect match.
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Natasha was still shooting some pool with the guys when she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. She pulled it out to read a text from Bradley.
Rooster Bradshaw: YOU WERE RIGHT.
"I knew it!" she shouted, jumping up and down again.
------------------------------
Thanks for reading! There are plenty of other love song themed Top Gun: Maverick stories available here!
Run-through: Your car breaks down on a deserted road on a rainy night. You have no other option but to seek shelter from the nearest house you could find; the mansion, which happened to be the talk of the town for its mysteriousness along with its equally mysterious owner, Mr. Barnes. The universe can be tricky sometimes but the fact that you found yourself at that mansion’s doorstep at that time was no simple coincidence. That one night changes everything forever - quite literally. True love, past lives and creatures from folklore; turns out it’s all real.
Themes throughout the series: Vampire!bucky, fluff, smut, angst
You seem to fall in love with your husband a little bit more every day. He's never shy about letting you know that you are the center of his attention. With a baby on the way, you and Bradley enter a new era together, and you're all too happy to share him with the Nugget. Parenthood is an even more exciting prospect with an enthusiastic partner, and if you manage to get your heart's desire, you know you would do everything you can to keep it. Part of my Is It Working For You? universe with Roo and BG. Reading order available here roosterforme masterlist
Thanks for the banner @mak-32 (This story covers pregnancy topiccs)
So, my book is finally out. If you want to check it out, I would be eternally grateful. And if you enjoy it, please consider leaving a review (but absolutely no pressure). Some of it was inspired by my fics!
Links to the book are in my bio. If the links give you any trouble just search "Under Your Nails poetry" on Amazon. Thanks :)
Snippets below:
I'm tagging my masterlist people since you guys read my stuff :) So sorry if you get tagged twice.
Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist (Rooster x Reader)
After Bradley breaks things off with his girlfriend just days before the start of a deployment, he expects a few lonely months of nobody writing to him or waiting for his return. But the fateful arrival of a package from a class of fourth graders learning about aviation changes everything. Suddenly he has a group of inquisitive pen pals that he's more than happy to converse with, and their pretty teacher is someone he finds he wants to get to know better, too.
You're on the Naughty List, Rooster | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Bradley knows no limits when spoiling his family, especially for his daughter's first Christmas. When he's down to the wire getting everything ready, he lands himself on the naughty list. He'll do whatever it takes to fix things, including calling on one of Santa's helpers for backup.
Warnings: Fluff, adult language, smut, oral sex
Length: 3000 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
This is a The Younger Kind one-shot, but it can be read alone! Check out my masterlist for more!
"What is this?" you asked, holding up a receipt that trailed from your outstretched hand all the way to the floor. "Because I know you didn't spend eight hundred dollars on toys on your way home from work today."
"Uh," Bradley replied, brow puckered. He looked up from his spot on the living room floor next to the Christmas tree where he was putting batteries into a remote control dinosaur. "It's, uh.... well, yeah, I did stop for a few more toys on the way home, but I only spent like seven hundred and sixty bucks..."
"Daddy!" you gasped. "Noah and Noelle already have way too much stuff! And we agreed to put money aside to go to Disney World next summer!"
Bradley rolled his eyes and waved his hand casually in the air. "Don't worry about that. This is Noelle's first Christmas, and I really wanted to spoil her."
You shook your head, balled up the receipt, and threw it at his head. But you were smiling. "Where are these toys?"
"In the Bronco," he muttered. "I was going to sneak them under the tree after you went to bed and hope you didn't notice that I got a few more things."
You deadpanned. "You don't know how to wrap gifts. They would have stuck out like a sore thumb," you muttered, sliding your feet into your slippers and pulling on Bradley's discarded sweatshirt.
Without another word, you slipped out into the crisp, cool night to retrieve everything. To your dismay, it took you several trips back to the living room before you got all of it.
"You are in so much trouble," you warned, pulling his sweatshirt off and crawling across the floor toward your husband. "You're on the naughty list."
"I'm not," he whispered. "I've been really good all year."
You pointed to the Elf on the Shelf which was perched on the windowsill next to the front door. "That's not what Skittles Junior told Santa. I saw the note he sent to the North Pole. Everyone was on the nice list except for you."
"Including Skittles Senior?" he asked, pulling you close until you were sitting halfway on his lap. The Yorkshire Terrier looked up from her napping spot under the Christmas tree, annoyed that they kept saying her name without offering a treat.
"Especially Skittles Senior," you confirmed.
Bradley wrapped his hands around your waist and whispered, "What if I bought my way onto the nice list?"
"How?" you asked, chin jutting into the air, playfully haughty.
Bradley leaned in, pressing his lips to the side of your neck. You had the softest skin, and he let himself indulge in some kisses before saying, "Maybe I already booked the trip to Disney World."
You gasped softly. "Well, this is an interesting turn of events. Did you pick a nice hotel?"
"For my family? The nicest."
"And we get to go for a week?"
"A full seven days, Princess," he rasped, brown eyes reflecting the lights on the tree as you tipped his head back to examine his face.
"Let me check with the Elf," you whispered with a wink. You turned toward the window and asked, "Hey, Skittles Junior? You think we can let the old man slide this year? He wasn't too bad."
But Bradley was already easing you onto your back, right next to the snag in the area rug, while you laughed. "I know for a fact you're on the nice list. You're so nice, in fact, I'll let you have one of your presents early," he murmured. You bit your lip as he started to tug your pajama pants over your hips. "This is something I definitely wouldn't be able to figure out how to wrap." He kissed below your belly button, tossing your pants on top of his hoodie. "But I know it's something you like."
The tip of his nose tickled the waistband of your underwear before he started to pull them down as well. Then he kissed his way along your thigh, mustache prickling you as you shivered, pussy completely bare for him. "Daddy," you moaned softly, fingers grabbing at the rug while he held tight to your thigh and dragged his index finger along your slit.
His face was handsome in the glow from the multi-colored lights, gaze fixed on where he was stroking you. "You're so fucking pretty like this," he grunted, collecting your slick and circling your clit until you whimpered. His lips found the inside of your knee before he set your legs gently on his shoulders. You watched as he licked his finger clean, eyes closed in pleasure. "You taste like a Princess."
"I am a Princess," you replied, eyes flicking to the collection of paper crowns which your son added to the Christmas tree. Then your eyes slid closed as Bradley's tongue traced you from hole to hole before his lips sealed around your clit with just the perfect pressure.
"Oh, god," you whined as your fingers sunk into his thick hair. His broad shoulders kept you planted against the floor, pussy already fluttering with need as you tried to roll your hips for more.
"Just wait," he whispered, mustache dragging through your wetness. "Don't rush it."
"But it feels good," you whined loudly, tugging him by his hair. "More."
That's when he lifted you slightly off the rug, his big hand landing on your butt, spanking you one time. You sucked in a deep breath, enjoying the sting as he kissed the inside of your thigh. "I said don't rush it. Want you to make a mess."
"Oh." He was going to make you squirt. That was the gift he was giving you. Even now, you weren't sure how he managed to make it happen every time he put his mind to it, but you weren't mad about it. You tried your best to keep your hips still as he worked you up while his hands made their way to your waist.
He drew little circles against your skin where you were most self conscious after being pregnant with Noelle, but he never seemed to mind your stretch marks. He just kept at it, licking you up and down your slit with a steady pattern until you were starting to get loud. Then Bradley shoved two fingers inside and circled your clit with his thumb.
"Don't wake up the kids," he scolded playfully, guiding his body over yours while his hand worked at your pussy. The sounds were wet and indecent as he finger fucked you while you licked yourself from his lips and mustache. "God, you're so fucking sweet," he crooned, making you whine for him as he pulled away again.
As soon as his face was back between your legs, his lips took over for his thumb, and you knew you were close. His fingers felt thick and unrelenting, giving you the most delicious friction as he sucked on your clit. When his tongue swiped you, your back arched up from the rug, and your legs started to shake. When his fingers slowed, your vision blurred, creating a colorful mosaic from the Christmas lights as you clenched around him, your body trying to keep his fingers inside.
"Jesus," you gasped, riding his fingers, looking down at his face, lips still all over your pussy. "Daddy!"
You gushed on his face, and he moaned in pleasure, lapping up everything from your ass to your clit as you gasped and giggled, fingers pressed to your lips as you shakily rode out your orgasm.
"Merry Christmas, Princess," he crooned, teasing you with his fingers before removing them. He kissed your chin and your parted lips before letting you suck on his fingers while he sprawled out next to you. Your tongue cleaned him up, enjoying the taste of yourself on his rough hands before you rolled onto your side.
"You want me to wrap all of the extra toys you bought, don't you, Bradley?" you asked, voice shaky as he nodded.
"Yeah. I mean, I thought that was a given."
You laughed, but a few minutes later, you were once again dressed, wrapping presents until well after midnight. Bradley handed you the tape and scissors when you asked for them, and he made both of you mugs of hot cocoa when you needed a break. He told you his plans for the summer vacation to Florida, and you lined up the mound of toys for Noah and Noelle under the tree until you couldn't stop yawning.
"I don't know if I'm more tired from my orgasm or wrapping. Or both?" you asked, kissing him before standing. "But I'm going to bed."
"I'll be in after I put the mugs in the sink, Princess. I love you."
You stood and arched your back in the most alluring way before running your fingers through his hair and kissing his forehead. "Don't forget to move Skittles Junior to the tree for Christmas morning."
"Right. I'll take care of it," he grunted as you walked away, Skittles Senior trailing behind on her way to her puppy bed.
After straightening up the kitchen, Bradley took the time to clean up a few wrapping paper scraps and adjust some of the ornaments. The tree looked beautiful covered in homemade art projects you and Noah crafted together. The whole house had taken on a new life since he met you, and if you wanted to go to Disney World in the summer, he was going to make it the best trip ever.
"Get over here," he told the Elf on the Shelf, picking him up and searching for a good spot on the tree to hide him. "And I better be on the nice list tomorrow, Skittles Junior. There are a lot of things I want from my wife next year, if you catch my drift, buddy."
But Bradley took a wrong step trying to avoid the huge pile of presents that he bought. His eyes went wide as he reached for the tree, somehow managing to keep it and himself upright while the presents scattered noisily across the floor. He stood there silently, trying to regroup, but then he heard footsteps in the hallway.
"Daddy, did Santa come?"
Bradley turned in time to see Noah peek into the room, his brown eyes wide as he took in the scene before him. Then he burst into tears.
"What's wrong, Bub?" Bradley asked, scrambling around the presents to get to his son.
"You touched the Elf!" he wailed, tears streaking down his cheeks. "Now Skittles Junior won't be magic anymore!"
Bradley tamped down the string of obscenities on the tip of his tongue and winced, throwing the Elf at the tree. "He's okay. See? He's in the tree now. He's just fine."
"No!" his son cried, dropping to the floor where Bradley joined him, trying to keep him quiet so he didn't wake you or Noelle. "He's not magic anymore!"
Fuck. Bradley had been setting up elaborate scenes involving the elf leaving flour footprints in the kitchen and dangling from dental floss in the bathroom for the entire month of December. He knew he wasn't allowed to get caught touching the damn thing.
"I'm pretty sure there's a way to fix his magic," he said, collecting the sobbing child against his chest.
Noah gasped for air as he said, "Someone at school told me the only way to get an elf to be magic again is if Santa sends a helper to sprinkle new magic on him. That's the only way."
Bradley tried to think of a solution to appease Noah, but he was beyond exhausted. "How about I take you back to bed, okay? Santa was clearly already here, but Mommy and Noelle are still asleep. We can open presents in a few hours-"
"No!" Noah protested, looking up at him. "I want to stay here with Skittles Junior until Santa sends a helper to give him back his magic!"
Bradley gritted his teeth. It was four in the morning. He wanted to be curled up next to your warm body in bed. He didn't know how the fuck to fix the elf as it dangled helplessly from the tree. But it was Christmas, and the last thing he wanted to do was disappoint his son.
"Right," Bradley agreed, scooping Noah up and settling onto the couch with him as a plan started to take shape. "How about you and I wait right here? I'm sure it won't take long."
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When you woke up, the bed was cold. You could hear Noelle starting to fuss in her crib, so you went to her room before investigating where your husband could possibly be.
"Hey, Noelle," you whispered as she giggled and reached for you when you walked to her crib. Thankfully she was finally sleeping through the night now after getting a rough start. You kissed her forehead and changed her into a fresh diaper. "Merry Christmas," you told her, tickling her tummy, making her coo. "Let's find Noah and Daddy and make breakfast."
When you walked into the living room, you froze. The wrapped presents were all over the floor, Skittles Junior was dangling from the Christmas tree, and Bradley looked miserably tired with Noah pouting on his lap.
"What's going on?" you asked, and they both turned to look at you and Noelle.
"Daddy touched Skittles Junior, and now he's not magic anymore."
Noah's lips quivered as Bradley rolled his eyes behind him. "It was an accident," Bradley replied through gritted teeth. "And Santa's helper should be here shortly to remedy things."
You looked at him like he had two heads. "What are you talking about? Santa's helper?"
"It's the only way!" Noah insisted, his little fists clenched on his lap. "It's the only way to get his magic back!"
You looked from one pair of brown eyes to the other. "I'm still confused," you whispered, but then there was a knock on the front door. "Who could that possibly be at this hour?"
Noah launched off Bradley's lap. "It has to be Santa's helper!" he exclaimed, racing for the door and opening it. You nearly choked when you saw Natasha standing there, dressed as a life-sized Elf on the Shelf with heavily rouged cheeks and her hair hidden under the pointy hat. She was also wearing oversized glasses which she pushed up her nose as Bradley stood.
"Hi! My name is Pip! I'm an elf!" she squeaked.
"Did Santa send you?" Noah asked hopefully, opening the door wider for her.
"He sure did!" she told him with a smile while you took in the events before you with Noelle in your arms. This had to be the most insane thing you'd ever witnessed as your husband's best friend walked into the living room with a canister of gold glitter in her hand.
"Did he tell you my elf lost his magic?" Noah asked, pointing at the tree.
"Oh, yes," Natasha squeaked. "He said your dad was very, very naughty." She glared at Bradley who just shook his head. "He's going directly onto the naughty list for the next decade or so. Everyone knows you aren't allowed to touch the Elf on the Shelf. Only a complete moron would-"
"Okay, Pip," Bradley barked. "Can you fix the elf or not?"
She adjusted the glasses and opened the glitter. "Of course I can. Just a little sprinkle," she said, dousing the elf and half the tree in gold dust, "and he'll be good as new."
"Yay!" Noah shouted, jumping around the room. "He's magic again! He's magic again!"
You gaped at Bradley and whispered, "Do I even want to know?"
"Absolutely not," he replied, taking Noelle and giving her a kiss while Noah plopped down to open aone of his presents like all was right in the world.
When Natasha turned to quietly sneak back out the front door, you followed her to the porch, closing the door behind you.
"What in the world is happening here? I thought you and Javy were coming over later for dinner?"
She waved her hand in the air in clear annoyance. "I don't know exactly what your husband did to fuck up enough that I got texts in the middle of the night and had to drive an hour each way to the only Walmart that opened at seven in the morning on Christmas to buy this outfit, but he owes me dearly. I'll be back at a normal hour, and you can tell him he better be ready to start kissing my ass."
The elf stormed across the yard to her SUV, tossed her hat in, and drove off. You scratched your head, still confused as you went back inside. Skittles Junior was practically dripping with gold glitter as you passed the tree to find your husband and both of your children were wearing their paper crowns.
"Mommy, put it on," Noah said, handing you the purple one as you took a seat on the area rug with them.
Bradley leaned in and kissed your cheek while Noelle reached for one of the wrapped gifts. "I'll explain everything later," he whispered. "The important thing is the elf is magical again, and everyone is happy."
You shook your head and pursed your lips. "Everyone except you. Ten years on the naughty list? You better hope Pip changes her mind before she gets back to the North Pole."
Bradley groaned and sprawled out on the floor while the kids opened their presents, but there was a smile on his face the whole time.
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It feels good to check in with them! I'm so obsessed with elf Natasha, if you couldn't tell. Thanks for reading! Happy holidays! Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls
Bradley loves all things '90s. You don't completely understand it, but you appreciate his spirit.
1000 words
Bradley Bradshaw x Reader
Check out my masterlist for more!
There were certain scenarios that became normal over time when you were in a relationship with a man more then ten years your elder. Sometimes you didn't understand certain movie references. Slang words and jokes occasionally went over your head. He and his friends would often reminisce about trends you'd never witnessed. But Bradley never made you feel bad about it, and you never called him an old-timer unless you were joking.
You were used to these things, but nothing quite prepared you for what you saw when you got home from work. Bradley was relaxing on the couch in something that looked like a bright blue, full body straitjacket with some random vintage headphones on his head.
"What the fuck?" you muttered, inching closer when you realized he was listening to music and hasn't spotted you yet. You glanced around the room, trying to locate the source of disturbing chattering sound that just started, and you tripped over a hard, black ball.
Bradley looked up at you with a smile. "Hey, you're home early." He quickly stood in his weird, fleece outfit and leaned in to give you a kiss, but you leaned away.
"What on earth is happening here?" you asked, standing frozen as he pulled his headphones off.
"What are you talking about?" He looked puzzled by your words but not by all of the weird things in the living room.
"I'm talking about what you're wearing. And the robotic voice!"
"Oh," he laughed. "This is just my Snuggie."
"Your what?"
He glanced down at himself. "My Snuggie? I found it in a box of my stuff from highschool."
You were still so confused. "What's a Snuggie? And what is that weird sound?"
When his gaze fell to something fuzzy and brown on the couch, you jerked back in shock. "You mean my Furby?"
You glared at the critter and it's enormous, evil eyes. "Is that one of those things from that '80s Gremlins movie you're obsessed with?"
He barked out a laugh like you'd just said the funniest thing he'd ever heard in his life. "Baby, no. It's not a Gremlin. It's just a Furby. But imagine if Furby manufactured replica Gremlins... Would have been fascinating." It was starting to sound like he was speaking a foreign language. "I was just listening to Chumbawamba on my Discman and playing with my pogs and my Tomagachi. I literally forgot the Furby was even here."
You were sure you were gaping at him like he had two heads as you reached up to run your palm across his forehead. "Do you have a fever?"
"Huh? No, but I did eat a Kudos bar I found in the box, so I might potentially have an upset stomach later. But it was worth it."
After you punched the bridge of your nose, you asked, "I'm sorry, but what did you say you were listening to?"
"Tubthumping. By Chumbawamba. You know it, don't you? Pissing the night away, pissing the night away. I get knocked down...." He looked at you in wide eyed shock. "You don't know that song? How is that possible?"
You didn't want to tell him that Chumba whatever wasn't a word. And neither was Snuggie. Not when he looked so adorably baffled. You stroked your fingers across his forehead and down his cheek as you shook your head.
"No, I don't know that song, because I'm not forty like you are. And you look kind of alarming in this thing." You pinched the fleece fabric and pulled it away from his body.
"It's my Snuggie," he muttered. "It was from an Infomercial."
"I don't know what that means." He gasped and you started laughing. "But I would love to sit down with you while you explain it to me. As long as you don't make me eat something from the late 1900s."
He took your hand in his bigger one and and led you toward the couch and the demonic looking Furby. "Okay, but first, you need to listen to this CD. Because Jake told me Chumbawamba is a guilty pleasure, but it's actually really good."
About twenty minutes later, you were wrapped up in the Snuggie, enveloped in softness and Bradley's lingering body warmth. "I love this thing," you told him, burying your face in the fleece. "And yes, Chumbawamba is good, but I like Hoobastank better. And I'm really sorry I accidentally kicked your Magic 8 ball across the floor."
He wrapped his arms around your shoulders and kissed your cheek as you skipped a track on his Discman. "That's okay. Hey, do you want to learn how to play pogs? The best part is, I'm not sure there are actually any rules at all."
"Sure," you said with a shrug. "Why the hell not? As long as you lock that Furby away and never let it out ever again."
Being 23, this made me cackle a bit. My saving grace is having older siblings and inheriting their various 90s items/ films on tape and DVD as that got more accessible. The mention of infomercials is giving my brain so many unlocked memories of various products such as the Greatest Love song collection.
Side note I'm stealing Roo's snuggie to make up for the one I lost as a kid, lol.
Summary: Bradley is required to travel for a week, and both you and he are exhausted. He's hoping this will mean fewer deployments in the future, but in the present, he's going to need to remember where his responsibilities lie.
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
Aim for the Sky masterlist. 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.
Once again, your parents extended their stay to spend more time with Rose, but when they finally flew back to Maryland, it felt strange to be on your own with your daughter. You and Bradley fell into a regular routine once more, but it took him days before he came clean about being stressed out. When he got home late from work to find you on the couch feeding Rose, you could tell by the set of his shoulders that he'd had a long day.
"Can we talk about some things?" he asked, bending to untie his boots. You'd been wanting him to confide in you for days, but you were already exhausted again from the late night feedings and had pushed the comments Bradley made to Jake to the back burner.
"What's on your mind?" you asked, secretly pleased that he leaned down to give you a long, needy kiss, complete with his big hand on your neck, before kissing Rose as she ate. It had been a few days since you and he were intimate, and your body was already responding to him as he dropped down on the couch next to you.
"Can we just move to La Jolla? Nothing stresses me out when we have copious amounts of champagne and oral sex."
You laughed at his unexpected response as he ran his rough fingers along Rose's fuzzy hair. "Don't forget about the seafood platters."
"Sweetheart, I'll never forget about the seafood platters," he promised, turning to look at you as his head sank back against the couch. "Your mom and dad are serious about moving out here."
Your smile started to fade away. "Yeah, Roo. They are. And I thought you were pleased by that fact."
"I am." His brown eyes remained fixed on yours. "I am. I told you I was. I want them close, but not too close. Like, I don't want them next door where they can hear me call you my filthy little slut or something."
"Bradley," you said, laughing again as he took Rose in his hands to burp her.
"They don't need to know the ins and outs of how you call me Daddy while you're gagging on my cock either." He kissed the baby on her forehead. "Sorry, Nugget. I'll teach you one day how babies are made, and you'll probably cringe the whole time."
You sighed and reached for Bradley, cupping his jaw in your hand and stroking his mustache with your thumb. "My parents are seriously getting their house ready to sell. So just give it to me straight."
He nodded. "I don't want them over here all the time, okay? I love them, I really do, but they take over our house when they come. And even though we finished the attic so they could have a place to stay when they're here, Rosie can move her bedroom up there when she's older. So it wasn't a waste of time since the contractor saw your tits."
"It was a photo of my tits! I didn't just whip them out for him to see!" Now Bradley was laughing as you said, "It sounds like you're worried about having some boundaries if my parents become our new neighbors."
"Yes," he replied, nodding as you ran your fingers along his jaw. "That."
"I'm sure we can have a conversation with them and address all of your concerns." Rose seemed to be done burping, and you were treated to the view of Bradley cuddling your four month old against his chest. "Now, can you tell me what else made you have a bad day at work?"
"What makes you think I had a bad day?" he asked, placing soft kisses on Rose's cheek. "I could never have a bad day when I get to come home to my girls." You sighed as he ran his nose along her hair and inhaled deeply before he met your gaze. "Okay. It's not the end of the world, but Mav informed me that I need to take a trip to the Naval Airstation in Fort Worth. I don't really have any details yet."
"Okay," you replied softly, finally voicing what had been on your mind. "Well, maybe Rose and I can come with you for a few days? I can't remember exactly how much vacation time I have left, but it could be fun. And you did say the next trip should be for the three of us to enjoy together."
Bradley shrugged and immediately said, "Fort Worth in August? Baby Girl, it's going to be miserably hot. I know you, for some reason, miss the east coast humidity, but this is going to be gross. Ask Jake about it, he's from that ridiculous state."
You couldn't believe how quickly he shut it down. "It was just an idea," you mumbled, watching him snuggle the baby. "So you wouldn't have to miss Rose the whole time while you're away."
His head tipped back as he sighed. "I'm taking this new position so I can hopefully deploy less often and be here more later on. Even if I have to start working longer days, a week or two away from home is nothing compared to five months."
You bristled. "I understand that, Roo. We've talked about this so much. But maybe try to be a little bit more patient with the idea of my parents moving here so I can have a support system when you're busy?"
When you stood and rushed toward the bedroom, Bradley was right behind you, hand reaching out to grab your shoulder while he still held Rose tight. "Are you mad at me?"
Your stomach roiled with irritation, annoyance and disdain. You hated when you got like this, because he was the one who could bring out the best and also the worst in you. "I don't know."
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You were kind of quiet at home. Bradley hated it. You were a bit more vocal during sex, but that certainly didn't make him feel any better about the rest of it.
"I have my dates for Fort Worth," he informed you when he strolled in from work with some yellow flowers and a new book for Rose. Today was important to him. He wasn't sure you'd remember why, but he still wanted to acknowledge it.
"When?" you asked, continuing to make dinner while he looked around for the baby. "She's napping in her crib," you added, seemingly knowing he always wanted his daughter nearby.
"Second week of August," he replied. "So, pretty soon. But just for a week." You nodded as Bradley walked closer, and he realized what you were cooking. "Marry Me Rooster?"
"Yeah." Your voice was soft as you looked at him over your shoulder. You were also still wearing your khaki uniform, and he could tell you were tired. He was tired, too, but he wanted things to feel more natural around here again. He didn't want to accept that this was just how things would be now when the two of you were taking turns getting up with Rose all the time.
He wished he hadn't made such a fuss about your parents, because he really did love them, and it would be nice to have some help occasionally. And now he felt like you were continually annoyed with him, and he had to figure out a way to fix this.
Your voice broke into his thoughts. "It's kind of a special day?"
You sounded unsure. Like you thought maybe he didn't remember. But a smile immediately found his lips, and he gestured to the flowers. He should have known you'd remember. You remembered everything. You just made him a seafood platter to celebrate Carole's birthday the other day.
"I proposed two years ago." You visibly relaxed at his words as you took the flowers in your hands. He stroked the diamond ring on your finger as he said, "I couldn't wait another minute after I found this in the storage unit. I needed you to wear it. I needed you to say yes." You melted into his arms, and he kissed your forehead. "Can I go ahead and propose something else right now?"
You nodded and hummed, lips brushing the scars on his neck. "I'm just happy you remembered."
"Sweetheart, I remember everything," he promised. "And I propose that we plan a trip for the three of us before the year is over. We can go anywhere you and the Nugget want."
Your eyes lit up as he cupped your perfect cheek in his hand. "I have so many ideas, Roo."
"I knew you would. Can I make another proposal?" When you raised one eyebrow, he whispered, "How about we mess around before Rose wakes up?"
He was already wrapping his arms around you, turning you toward the hallway when you said, "But what about dinner?"
"We'll be fast," he replied confidently, turning off the stove burner.
"You're never fast! You like to linger!"
"It's a new era, Baby Girl. The mom and dad era. I'll learn how to be quick so we can finish before she wakes up."
This was the closest thing to a true quickie Bradley had experienced in a long time. Maybe ever. You were pushed up against the wall just inside the bedroom, belt jingling with your pants down around your thighs. He was going hard at a nice, steady pace with his hand inside your bra. Your warm milk dripped between his fingers and along his palm as he whimpered.
"Oh, I love this so much," he whined as his other fingers found your clit. "I'm not happy about making this quick. I might need more later."
He could already hear Rose getting restless in the nursery down the hallway, her soft cries ramping up as Bradley slammed his cock into his wife. He wanted to make sure he got you off before he was done, but then you went and said something so hot, he knew he wasn't going to be able to hold on much longer.
"I could always nurse you later if you want."
When he came, his vision flooded with dizzying color. Bradley lapped your milk from his hand, moaning your name as his hips eventually slowed. Rose was wailing now as you bent down to pull your pants up, cum dripping down your inner thighs as you looked at him with a little grin.
"I take it you're interested in my offer."
"Absolutely," he rasped, pulling his pants up so he could go say hi to his daughter. "If I ever say no to your tits, something is definitely wrong, Baby Girl. That would be your cue to take me out back and finish me off." You laughed when he said, "Happy engagement anniversary. I'll go take care of the Nugget."
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"When's the wedding?" you asked Jake as you dropped your tray next to his at lunch. He was eating the most delicious looking burger and a slice of pizza, and your soup and salad looked pitiful next to them. Seemingly no matter what you did, you'd stopped losing weight since the baby was born, and right now you were so exhausted, you couldn't even think about starting an exercise regimen.
"We've been engaged less than a month," Jake drawled, shoving some of the accompanying fries into his mouth. "Maybe some of us can wait a little longer to get hitched than your husband could, Angel." You rolled your eyes dramatically at him, but you were fighting a smile. "I'm trying my best to make sure that everything is in order for Jeremiah, if I'm being honest."
"Like what?" you asked, blowing on a spoonful of your soup.
Jake heaved a deep sigh, dragging a fry through ketchup. "He already calls me 'dad'. His speech was delayed, but it was still one of his first words, probably because I was around so much. I want to make sure Cat's ex doesn't get any rights, and if that means I need to hire another legal team before we get married, then so be it."
Tears stung your eyes as you patted his cheek gently. You knew you were lucky that you and Bradley were together and that he would do anything to take care of his child, but right now you were just so happy for Jeremiah. "He's such a sweet kid, Jake. And you love him so much."
"I do," he replied before taking an enormous bite out of his burger. You let him chew in silence while you picked at your lunch. Right now, you really wished Bradley was here, but the chances of him showing up were slim when he was out shadowing Maverick again. He was leaving in a few days for Texas, and you were feeling pretty emotional. It would just be you and Rose at home for a whole week by yourselves.
"Well, if you're looking for a nice venue, I know a good parking lot."
Jake barked out a laugh. "There's too much sentimental Bradshaw bullshit in that parking lot. No way I'd be allowed to get married there."
Then Cat showed up, and Jake's attention immediately shifted to her. You poked your salad around on your plate, wondering why you were so damn tired. You still had four more hours of work to get through before you had to pick Rose up and make dinner. Maybe you could just get pizza. But you shouldn't. But it sounded so good as you watched Jake eat his. But your hips and belly were already so big, you couldn't let yourself.
Your afternoon was filled with checking code that someone in Annapolis had entered, and they'd done a really shitty job. When you left your office, your eyes were tired, and you could feel yourself caving. You ordered a pizza and picked it up on your way home with Rose. Then you ate half of it on the couch while you fed her. And when you were done, you really wanted to cry, because you didn't know why you couldn't control yourself right now.
"I'm starving," Bradley groaned when he walked in. "You got pizza?" he asked, shoving two slices stacked up on top of each other into his mouth and moaning. Then he dropped down onto the couch and polished them off while you switched Rose to your other side. "I need to remember to pack my dress blues for Fort Worth."
"Why?"
Bradley shrugged and reached for the next slice. "Apparently, there's some sort of reception for the aviators that are selected for Top Gun in the fall. I don't know how much sway I'll have, but I'm really hoping I can pick some good ones for the next generation of the program since I'm aging out."
"You're not aging out, Roo!" you gasped. "You chose a different career trajectory!"
"I mean..."
"Stop. You're not old. Don't even try to tell me you're old."
"I'll be forty soon."
"You're thirty-eight."
"That's almost forty."
"You look like a DILF."
He reached for the last slice of pizza, folded it up and ate it while he reached for Rose. Like usual, she curled up on her father. Her features looked so much like his, but he was always the first one to argue with you about that, so you said nothing while he chewed up his food.
"I need you to help me pack for hot as hell Texas. I'm thinking just shorts besides my flight suits and uniforms?"
"I'll help you as soon as Rose goes to sleep for the night."
Bradley took the reins for the rest of the evening while you tried not to fall asleep before the baby. That was much easier said than done, but at least Bradley supervised tummy time while Tramp licked Rose, and then he gave her a bath. He read bedtime stories and changed her into pajamas so you didn't have to, gently setting her in her crib before joining you where you sat in bed yawning.
"You okay?" he asked, brushing his lips along your cheek before heading to the closet to start pulling out clothes to pack.
"Yeah. I just wish I didn't order the pizza, because it's empty calories, and it probably made me feel worse and more exhausted in the long run."
"But it was delicious," he muttered, piling up some of his favorite tropical print shirts. "Be honest, how many of these do you think I'll need?"
You snorted. "Unless every night is happy hour at the Copacabana, probably none. But knowing you, I'd pack at least two."
"See, you understand," he muttered with a smile as you chose two of your favorites and handed them to him. It was strange watching him load things into a duffle bag for something other than a deployment or special mission. You knew exactly how long he'd be gone. You knew it was just for a week and that he could FaceTime you and Rose whenever he wanted to, but it still felt like you were sending him away.
"We're going to miss you."
He immediately tossed the bag onto the floor and joined you in bed. "Don't cry, Baby Girl," he whispered, swiping at tears you hadn't realized were already filling your eyes. "I'll barely be gone at all. And I don't even have to finish packing tonight. I can do it later."
You nodded and let him envelope you in his warmth. That's how you eventually fell asleep.
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"This sucks," Bradley said for probably the hundredth time in the past hour. Standing at the curb at San Diego International Airport with a beautiful wife and a beautiful daughter, being forced to leave them for a week, was actually awful. He didn't want to go. He wanted to continue to cradle Rose against his chest with his arm wrapped around you until he missed his flight.
"You have to go now so hopefully you can do this less frequently in the future," you whispered, voice shaky with emotion. You looked really tired, and Bradley knew you wouldn't get much of a break this week. That's why he'd arranged for Nat to check on you at home a few times whether you wanted her to or not.
"Count on it, Sweetheart," he murmured, placing kisses to Rosie's soft hair as her little fingers poked at the insignia pins on his uniform. "And I need you to be a perfect Nugget for Mommy. I'll call later tonight after I get settled in the barracks."
"Okay." Your voice was muffled as you buried your face against his neck. "I love you."
"I love you both," he promised, collecting his final kisses from Rose before buckling her into her car seat in the back of the red Bronco. Then he got a particularly filthy kiss from you that left both of you grinning before you started to shove him toward the airport entrance.
"You need to go or you'll miss your flight. And then Mav will be on my case about it."
Before he ducked inside, he cupped his free hand to his mouth and shouted, "I love you!" He watched you blow him a kiss and then pull away from the curb before he headed to the counter to drop off his bag.
He hated traveling like this, in his uniform. It felt like everyone milling around, trying to check their bags, was looking at him. He was only wearing it today, because he wasn't sure what to expect when he arrived at a base he'd only visited one time years ago. The last thing he wanted was to seem unprepared in front of an admiral, so he wore his khakis as a precaution.
"Lieutenant Commander. Where are you headed?" asked the airline agent when she looked at his pins.
Impressed, he replied, "Dallas-Fort Worth."
She took his duffle, wished him a good flight, and then Bradley slept for the entire time he was in the air. Maybe you weren't the only one who was exhausted, because the nap seemed to do wonders for him. He woke up feeling rested, and just as soon as he sent a text letting you know he landed, he was off in search of a rental car.
To his absolute delight, all he had to do was ask nicely and flash his most charming smile, and he was handed the keys to a brand new, black Bronco. It was a model year newer than your red one back at home, and he was excited to scrutinize all of the little differences as he drove it around for the week.
"Don't like the lack of a car seat," he muttered, tossing his bag onto the backseat where he was so used to seeing Rose's infant carrier.
Was he really that guy? Did he already miss his kid enough that he had to open up the photo gallery in his phone and scroll through a few pictures before he could drive away? Apparently he was, and it made him ache to be away from her. This was so much worse than going to La Jolla without his daughter, because right now, he had neither of you.
When his stomach started rumbling for dinner, he drove to the barracks and showed his identification, only to be told his room wasn't ready yet. So he went right back out to the Bronco in search of dinner. He knew the name of a tavern popular with officers in the area, so he typed it into his GPS and headed in the direction it told him. He had to laugh, figuring he was about to walk into the Lone Star version of the Hard Deck, but that's kind of what he wanted right now. Dinner somewhere that felt comfortable if not familiar.
"Oof." It looked like a dump compared to his bar at home, but it seemed popular, and he was hungry enough that it didn't matter. When he walked in, he took a quick survey of the space before grabbing an empty stool at the bar. He ordered your favorite beer and a sandwich and took his phone out, careful not to set it on the bar in case the owner was part of some sort of association along with Penny.
He tried reading an article, but he felt as though he was being watched. Bradley tried to ignore it, fairly certain he didn't know anyone on base here, but the feeling nagged at him while he ate. The twang of music playing on the jukebox was distracting, but not distracting enough. When he finished his food and wiped his mouth with a napkin, he picked up his bottle and drained the rest of his beer while he glanced around.
Then he saw a young woman in a flight suit playing pool not too far from his spot at the bar. Her bright blue eyes were focused on his face, and her lips curled into a grin before she bent to sink her shot. Her patches told him she originated from Virginia Beach like he did, and that her call sign was Indigo. As Bradley turned, ready to sign his bill and leave, he saw her approach out of the corner of his eye.
"Can I help you?" he asked, turning her way again with one eyebrow raised. She was attractive, even up close, and he remained silent while her gaze traveled from his face down to his chest where his name tag was displayed. Then she gasped in delight.
"Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw," she said, eyes snapping back up to meet his. "All the way from Top Gun. I've been waiting to meet you for weeks, Sir."
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Well, I hope BG is having a nice time at home without her husband. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls
Summary: Bradley was drawn to you the minute you moved onto his street. You seemed to bump into one another everywhere, and each time he saw your smile or heard your laugh, he knew he had to ask you out. He wasn't expecting the answer you gave him, just as you weren't expecting to wish he could be the man for you.
Warnings: angst, fluff, adult language, mentions of accident/death, guardianship of child
Length: 3500 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
Check out my masterlist for more
Early September was brutal in southern California. Each day seemed hotter than the one before it, and even the smallest bit of yard work was enough to leave Bradley sweaty and miserable. He stood in the middle of his front yard, eyes closed, thinking about how beautiful autumn was in Virginia when he was a kid. He leaned against the handle of the rake, picturing a pumpkin patch, a corn maze and all the things he would never find in San Diego.
The sound of something bigger than a car coming down his quiet side street had him cracking his eyes open against the Saturday afternoon sun. A U-Haul lumbered to a stop in front of the house across the street and one door down. The engine settled to silence, and he craned his neck to get a better look. The property had been sitting there with a red and white SOLD sticker over the realty sign for what seemed like months, and now it would appear as though he finally had a new neighbor.
Bradley dropped the rake and had to lunge to grab the handle before it clattered against his stone pathway. The woman who climbed out of the truck, hopping down onto the street in some beat up sneakers, was beautiful. The sun seemed to illuminate her from the inside, and now Bradley was setting the rake down softly as she walked around the truck and slid the back open. It was filled with furniture and boxes, and he watched as an avalanche nearly flowed out as she tried to move one item.
"Shit," he grunted, running across the street as he wiped his dirty hands on the hem of his undershirt. "It looks like you could use a hand," he called out, hoping he wouldn't scare you when he came up behind you just in time to catch a dining chair that was teetering above your head. Then the neatly stacked boxes started to give out as well, and his left hand went to steady them.
You were ducking slightly, preparing for the worst when Bradley realized your back was pressed against his chest. If he moved, there would be a lot of broken furniture to contend with. But then you glanced at him over your shoulder as you stood to your full height, eyes wide and lips parted in surprise.
If you looked beautiful from across the street, then you looked stunning up close, trapped between his body and the truck. "Welcome to the neighborhood," he mumbled like an idiot, but he was rewarded by the smile that curled along your lips.
"Hey, you're pretty good at being neighborly," you replied, gesturing to his right hand holding the chair and his left securing the stack of boxes. His heartbeat quickened at the sound of your voice and how close you were as you told him your name and asked which house was his.
"I'm Bradley. The white cottage across the street." He nodded toward his mess of a front yard with his chin. "I moved in about six months ago."
What he didn't mention was the fact that he often still felt like a bit of an outsider in town, even though he attended all the neighborhood potlucks and still had some blond in his hair from hanging out on the local beaches all summer. At the moment, all he could do was fight the urge to tell you how pretty your eyes were.
"And you like the neighborhood?" you asked, fully facing him now with a smirk on your face.
He shrugged the best he could without moving too much. "I might like it better now."
Your eyes widened a bit before you ducked your head, looking up at him with a surprised smile like you couldn't quite believe what he'd just said. And that's when Bradley heard another vehicle pull up behind him. "That would be my friends. Here to help me unpack."
He wanted to joke that it looked like you needed all the help you could get with your furniture avalanche, but he heard several voices calling your name and rushing over to help. He was invited to stay, but when he was finally able to safely back away without anything falling, he realized four other people were there to help you out.
Your eyes were still focused on his as he started to back away. "I'll see you around?" you asked before chewing on your lip.
"I would count on it," he confirmed, turning back toward his house so you could get settled into yours.
But he did hear one of your friends ask, "Who is he?"
"Bradley," you replied, just barely loud enough for him to hear. "From the white cottage."
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After that first encounter, he saw you everywhere. You were pulling into the parking spot next to his Bronco when he came out of the grocery store. When he asked how you liked your new house, it sparked a conversation about hardwood versus porcelain tile flooring, and Bradley's ice cream was completely melted by the time he got home.
Then there was the day you bumped into him coming out of the salon next to his barber, and he complimented your colorful nails at the same time you told him his haircut looked nice. He blushed, and you smiled before turning toward your car, glancing back at him a little expectantly.
Then he ran into you at the farmer's market where you were buying vegetables for the upcoming neighborhood potluck. You asked him what he thought you should make.
"Well, I'm the wrong person to ask," he replied, feeling a little lightheaded as his brain begged him to ask you out on a date.
"Why's that?" you asked, placing your hand on your hip while you held up a head of cabbage. "You're a picky eater?"
He shook his head and took a step closer to you. "The exact opposite. I love food. I will eat literally anything that is edible."
Your bright laughter cascaded across his skin as your head tipped back. The expanse of your neck looked smooth and perfect, and Bradley wanted to have your permission to put his lips there. And that was a startling thought since nobody had really caught his attention like this since he was first stationed in San Diego. Nobody made him feel like he was at home in his house before you started waving to him whenever you saw him outside.
"I guess it makes sense that you love food," you told him with a smile. "You're a big boy." Your gaze drifted down along his shoulders and chest before you started to look a little embarrassed. "I... yeah... I think I'll just grab whatever looks good and take it from there. See you on Friday night?"
"Yeah," he grunted as you walked toward an eggplant display. He would see you on Friday night. And he would be prepared ahead of time to ask you out.
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"No," you gasped. Bradley recognized your voice and turned around to face you in Mrs. Diaz's kitchen. "That's what you brought to the potluck?" You sounded appalled, but you were clearly smiling as you looked at what he was holding.
"I told you I liked to eat food, not that I knew how to cook anything."
"Bradley," you groaned, shaking your head at the bag of chips and jar of salsa in his hands. "This is bad. Next time, I'll prepare two dishes so you can pretend you made one."
His heart skipped a beat at the idea of handing you things in his kitchen and watching you make something as nice as the lasagna you were holding. "It's useless," he replied with a frown. "After six months of bringing restaurant style tortilla chips and medium salsa, nobody would believe I cooked anything."
Once again, your laughter had him ready to drop what he was holding and reach for you. He had to ask you out tonight. It had been weeks already since you moved in, and you were definitely giving him a green light. He could think of a dozen different restaurants he wanted to take you to, and maybe you'd like the artsy little movie theater.
But he watched you get swept up in conversation after conversation, and then the opportunity slipped away when you ducked away from everyone to answer a call. You had a concerned look on your face with your phone pressed to your cheek, and then you were rushing out of Mrs. Diaz's house and along her front path before you disappeared from view.
Suddenly it was well into October, and he'd barely seen you at all. There were a few mornings that felt cool enough to coax him to buy some pumpkins for his front porch. He thought about taking one over to your house as an excuse to finally ask you out, but he figured you must be pretty busy right now. Maybe work got a little crazy. He tried not to imagine that someone else had asked you out and that was the reason why you were so scarce.
"Damn," he grunted when he drove his Bronco past your house on his way to get some takeout for dinner on a Saturday night. He just couldn't stop thinking about you. Why didn't he ask you out that first day when he saved you from your dining chair? He ran his hand over his face and groaned, parking in front of the restaurant and yanking his keys from the ignition. If he'd just asked you out that day, maybe he'd be picking up twice as much food and sharing it with you tonight.
A minute later, when he turned to leave the restaurant with his bag, he could not believe his luck. You were walking inside. "Hey."
You glanced up, and for the briefest second, you smiled at him like you always used to. "Bradley." But then your smile started to fade away slowly, and he would do anything to bring it back.
His heart was pounding, and his brain was screaming at him, so he squared his shoulders and did the only thing he could do. "Hey, if you're free tomorrow night, I was thinking maybe you and I could get dinner? Or hit up the movie theater on Pomona? The seats are uncomfortable, but they show some indie stuff which could be fun. Or maybe another night might work?"
The air was silent except for the muffled sound of food being prepared in the kitchen behind him. Your eyes looked so sad as you shook your head and pressed your lips together. "No. No, I'm sorry, Bradley."
Well, fuck.
He backed away from you until he bumped into the wall, and then he focused on getting to the door. "Right," he replied after he had a few more feet between your body and his. "Well, I'll see you around the neighborhood."
For the first time since he moved to California, the air outside was too cold. There was an uncomfortable knot in his stomach as he glanced over at your car. He shivered miserably as he saw the shadow of someone waiting in your passenger seat. Then he drove home and ate alone in his kitchen before going to bed.
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Bradley tried his best not to think about you. One day last week, when he saw your front door swing open, he waited to step down from his porch so you wouldn't have to wave awkwardly to him. And yesterday, for lack of anything better to do, he bought more pumpkins, and he waited in his driveway to unload them until you carried all of your groceries inside your house.
Today was Halloween, and he spent over an hour carving some of the pumpkins to look like soccer balls before dressing in his usual costume. Handing candy out to the neighborhood kids and trying to guess what they were dressed as sounded like fun. He was determined to have a good night, even if he did have to angle the folding chair on his porch so he was facing slightly away from your house. He would enjoy himself no matter what.
Bradley lit the candles inside his pumpkins and dropped down into the chair with a bowl of candy as the afternoon sky turned dusky. It didn't take long until a toddler dressed as a witch made an appearance with her dad, and Bradley had a good laugh when she reached for three pieces of candy.
"Trick or treat!" shouted three kids dressed as the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.
"Where's Raphael?" he asked as they collected their candy.
Leonardo laughed and said, "Nobody wants to be Raphael. He's the lamest one."
"I would have to agree," Bradley replied, about to help himself to a piece of candy as they started to run to the next house.
But then he saw you. And you weren't alone. You were dressed as a soccer player, complete with knee socks and a soccer ball, and you were accompanied by an approximately ten year old kid who looked a lot like you. He was also dressed as a soccer player, and he smiled at Bradley as he said, "Trick or treat."
Bradley stood up, still holding onto the bowl of candy so the child could make his selection while he got a better look at you. "Hey."
"Hi," you replied immediately, looking from his mustache to the whistle around his neck and back up to his visor. "Are you seriously dressed as Ted Lasso?"
"I always dress as Ted Lasso," he told you, and he was rewarded with a smile that made him want to follow you around the neighborhood like a lost puppy.
"Of course you do," you said, letting your gaze drift toward the child who was currently looking closely at the soccer ball pumpkins while holding onto a Snickers bar. "Somehow you match with us."
The boy looked up at Bradley and asked, "Did you carve these yourself? They look pretty good."
"Yeah," he replied, wishing he actually had taken the time to drop a pumpkin or two off on your porch. "I have perfected the soccer ball technique, kiddo."
The kid nodded but said, "You need to call it a football."
Bradley found himself agreeing. "You're completely right. It's only proper."
When the kid turned back to explore the rest of the pumpkin display a little more, Bradley took a step closer to you. "I didn't know you had a son," he said softly.
Your eyes were alert, scrutinizing his expression as you said, "His name is Max. He's almost ten."
"He looks like you."
You went silent for a few seconds, fiddling with the soccer ball in your hands. When you finally spoke, you were looking at Bradley's feet. "I knew you didn't know about him. I mean, you did ask me out after all." You laughed even though nothing was funny and finally looked up at his face. Then Max started to walk back the way you and he came, and you followed him.
Bradley called your name. When you turned back, he said, "To be clear, I would have still asked you out if I'd known."
And then you looked so sad again.
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To Bradley's amazement, the weather finally cooled to the perfect temperature in November, but he found he didn't want to be outside as much. It was a shame, because if he stood in the middle of his yard and closed his eyes, he could almost imagine he was in Virginia.
One Friday after work, he cleaned the slightly rotten pumpkins from his porch and dragged his trash bin to the curb. Your front door was open, and he paused to see if you or Max happened to walk past it before heading back inside his empty house.
There was another potluck tonight, but he just didn't even feel like going. He had the usual chips and salsa on his kitchen counter, but he had no desire to socialize with the neighbors. He was about to change into gym shorts and surrender to a cold beer and a basketball game on TV when there was a knock on his door.
When he glanced through the front window, he saw that it was you, and his heart seemed to drag him toward the door. He was turning the knob before he thought better of it, and he was met with your wide eyes and a crock pot in your hands.
"Hi. Bradley."
"Hey." He swallowed hard before he said your name, and your lips turned up into a soft smile. "Is that for the potluck?"
"Yeah," you said, reaching out to hand the crock pot to him. "Well, I actually made it for you to take. Max and I will be bringing lasagna again."
Whatever Bradley was holding smelled so good, his stomach started to growl. "I can't take this. Nobody will believe I made it," he murmured, nudging at the lid with his thumb.
"It's a spicy buffalo dip," you replied, smile growing. "I literally made it with chicken from a can. I'm pretty sure you could trick them into thinking it came from your kitchen. You can even take your tortilla chips, too."
His fingers tightened on the handles when you took a small step closer to him. This was agony, being so close to you when he really wanted to touch you, but knew he couldn't. He whispered your name at the same time you looked up at him and started talking.
"Max isn't my son. He's my nephew. But I'm his legal guardian now." Bradley's lips parted, but you shook your head and quickly added. "The night of the last potluck, I got a phone call that my brother and his wife were in a car accident. They both died before they reached the hospital. I had to pick Max up from soccer practice that night, and he's been with me ever since."
Tears were welling up in your eyes as Bradley tried to shuffle your crock pot to one hand. He knew how badly this kind of thing hurt from his own childhood. "Shit. I'm really sorry the two of you are going through this. But Max is lucky he has you." When you nodded and shrugged, you looked resigned to the way things were. "I'm also pretty sure Max prefers it when you call it football. Not soccer."
You laughed, maybe in spite of yourself, but Bradley still loved how it sounded. You briefly glanced over your shoulder toward your house and swiped at your tears as you said, "He absolutely does. He also keeps asking me about Ted Lasso across the street and his football pumpkins. I told him you're nice."
Bradley's heart had him dragging his feet closer to you, holding onto the warm pot of buffalo chicken dip for dear life. "Is that so?"
You nodded and stared at Bradley's chest for a few seconds before meeting his eyes again. Your lips parted several times before you whispered his name, and he leaned in a bit closer. After a few seconds, he started to step back, but your hand settled lightly on his shoulder, stopping him. Before he could react, you closed the remaining space, pressing your lips to his in a tentative kiss.
It was over almost as quickly as it started, and Bradley was ready to drop to his knees and beg you for more. But you were rambling now, and he was trying his best to focus. "I wanted you to ask me out so badly. But then everything changed, and I had to tell you no. Max has a lot he still needs to process, and I don't really have time to date someone who just wants to mess around with me."
For the first time in many weeks, Bradley felt lighter than air. He reached out with his free hand and let his knuckles trail gently along your cheek and down to your softly parted lips. "I'm forty years old. I'm kind of over the messing around stage," he promised. And then you were kissing him again.
The three of you walked to Mrs. Diaz's house together that evening. Bradley carried the crock pot, you carried the lasagna, and Max carried the tortilla chips. The conversation was mainly focused on how badly Max wanted to learn how to carve a football pumpkin.
Almost a year later, Bradley was standing in his front yard, smiling at the SOLD sticker placed on a realty sign in front of your house. It made sense to have you and Max move into the white cottage with him, because the porch was bigger. It was the perfect size for an elaborate Halloween display.
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Thanks for reading this angsty yet fuzzy little fic. I hope your Halloween is sweeter than Bradley Bradshaw. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls and @thedroneranger
Summary: Bradley had a hot wife. He went wild for you in your work clothes and his worn out shirts. You didn't need any bells and whistles to look sexy, and you never would. But now that he knew what you looked like in a little lace, he needed to have that version of you, too.
Warnings: Fluff, adult language, drinking
Length: 3000 words
Pairing: Beer Boy and Sugar! Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader (former fuckboy college student Bradley)
This is a one-shot to accompany my fics Old Habits Die Hard and Right Girl, Wrong Time but it can be read on its own! Check out my masterlist
Bradley looked at Jake over his beer, and Jake looked right back at him. The Hard Deck was virtually empty this early on a Saturday in the middle of the blazing summer heatwave, leaving the two of them very much alone together with their drinks.
"So..." Bradley said, tracing a line through the condensation on his half empty bottle. It wasn't that he disliked Jake. Not really. But he didn't know how many times he could be coerced into hanging out with him for the sake of you having a 'girls day'. It wasn't like he could complain about work to the person who annoyed the shit out of him at work yesterday.
"So..." Jake replied, picking up his drink and chugging it before signaling to Penny for two more. When he turned back, he had a smug little smile on his face that let Bradley know he was about to get annoyed again. "I'm assuming by the way your wife looks and how fucking pussy whipped you are that she has good taste in lingerie?"
Bradley sputtered, almost knocking his bottle off the high top. "Jesus fucking Christ, Hangman. What the hell kind of question is that?" He could feel heat rising in his cheeks at the memory of you prancing around the bedroom last weekend in a lacy tie dye bra and matching boy shorts. Everything you wore was sexy.
"That's obviously what they are out shopping for," Jake drawled, handing the empties to Penny as she dropped off fresh beers. Bradley waved two fingers in a half-hearted salute and then glared at Jake as he added, "Jessica specifically asked your wife to go with her. She told me she's picking out some things for the honeymoon, and you and I both know what that means. They are trying on lingerie." His smirk was back. "Together."
Bradley swallowed hard, digging his fist into his thigh. His teeth were clenched as he said, "Stop picturing my wife in lingerie."
All he got was a jovial laugh in response. "Tell me right now to my face that you're not picturing both of them wearing something tight, cropped and lacy, and I'll stop."
Bradley raked his fingers through his hair, squeezing his eyes shut against the mental image of you and Jessica in a cute little fitting room, laughing together. "God damn it, Hangman!"
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You and Jessica were crammed into a fitting room together, trying not to laugh at the enormous stacks of cute things to try on. Your pile was on the left side of the decorative bench, and hers was on the right. You knew that Jessica Reed happened to collect lingerie in every color imaginable, but she was on a quest to find some unique things to take on her honeymoon. And you were on a quest to wow your husband with something more than a bra and boy shorts for once.
Not that he complained. Not that he ever complained. Bradley went absolutely feral for you in your damn work clothes and loafers. He about lost his mind when you wore his ratty, old tie dye tee shirt to bed. He often sounded like he was going to need CPR when you put on his bathrobe and nothing else. It was hard to contain your smile when you just knew that something in this fitting room was going to blow his mind to the point that he would be rendered speechless.
"Try something on," Jessica suggested gently, and you took a step closer to your pile. "Then you'll get a better idea of what you like."
There was red, green, black, white and pink fabric. There were nightgowns, thongs, bralettes and stockings. When you reached your hand out, you hesitated, confidence wavering. This seemed a lot more challenging than solving a linear algebra matrix.
Jessica whispered, "You'll look beautiful in anything, Advanced Calculus. I can promise you that." When you kind of shrugged in response, she said, "Do you want me to wait in line for my own fitting room so you can have more privacy?"
The two of you already agreed to help each other make selections, and the last thing you wanted was to keep opening the door so everyone else could see you wearing this stuff. "No. It's not that. I just... don't really own anything like this. I mean, I have a few things, but some of this is elaborate." You glanced at her over your shoulder and winced. "And this was supposed to be a shopping trip for you! For your honeymoon! Not for me."
She shushed you and then reached into your pile and pulled out a fairly innocuous looking nightie in a soft champagne color. "Start with this. Then you'll see how hot you look, and it'll be a gateway drug to you starting your own collection that will rival mine."
"I've seen your closet," you muttered, taking the hanger from her and holding the garment up in front of your body. It was pretty. The color even complimented your hair. It was a far cry from what you usually wore to bed, but you'd give it a shot.
When you started to undress, Jessica turned around and played with her phone, which you did appreciate. All of your bumps and lumps would be on display soon enough anyway, but at least you'd have a minute to straighten yourself out. The fabric was cool and slick against your skin, and you shivered as it settled high on your thighs. When you looked in the mirror and turned, you were pleasantly surprised with the result.
"It's not bad," you said, and she looked up and gasped, green eyes wide.
"It's perfect!"
"I wouldn't go that far," you muttered, smoothing your hands along your sides.
"Well, I would. And I'm sure Bradley would, too. Do you want me to take a picture on your phone?" she asked, and you nodded while she posed you with one hand on your hip. "Like I said, perfect," she muttered as she took the photo and then set your phone down again. "Try on something else."
"Okay," you whispered, reaching blindly into your pile and pulling out a black lace corset top.
Jessica jumped up and down and clapped her hands. "I love that one. I picked one up to try it on, too."
"I don't know about this," you said, holding it up in front of the nightie. "Not sure how Beer Boy is going to like it."
"You won't know until you try it on."
With those words of wisdom, you changed from the nightie to the corset, and your immediate thought was how cute this would look under your sweaters and tweed when you were at work. And it would feel amazing. It was snug and sexy, and somehow you felt like you could kick even more ass at work if you were wearing this thing.
"What the hell?" you whispered, and Jessica turned to look at you, clapping her hands once again. "I feel like I have super powers."
"Because you do! Look at you! Please let me take another picture of you to send to Bradley."
This time you posed yourself and turned so your tattoos were visible through the lace cutout on the side. Then you stood there and admired yourself before saying, "I'm definitely buying this. Catch me wearing it to work under my cardigans in the fall."
Jessica started digging into her own pile now as you changed from the corset into a bodysuit, but when she met your eyes in the mirror, she looked like she was going to freak out.
"What?" you asked. "The bodysuit looks that bad?"
She shook her head, and pressed her lips together before almost shouting, "When were you going to tell me you have a math tattoo?"
"Oh," you replied, not sure you'd ever heard her voice reach that octave before. "Euler's Identity? I've had it since I was nineteen."
"I love how you embrace your inner nerd," she said as if she was in awe of you, and you started laughing which made her laugh. "Now send those pictures to your husband and let that man worship you."
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Bradley had just buried his face in his hands while Jake laughed when his phone went off. You hadn't even bothered to inform him that your little 'girls day outing' was a quest to make sure Jake enjoyed his honeymoon with Jessica. Honestly, Bradley kind of hoped the other man was correct in his assessment that you'd be shopping for something for yourself, too. Not that you needed it. Holy shit, you still looked like the girl he fell in love with over a decade ago whenever you wore his old Grateful Dead shirt or his robe around the house.
But now he wanted something special, too. Why should Jake get to have all the fun when it came to having his partner all wrapped up in a pretty package that was specifically meant to be removed?
"Sugar," he grunted when he saw that you'd texted him. Jake was rambling about something across the table, but Bradley couldn't hear him. He could no longer hear anything. He couldn't process thoughts or form words. All he could do was stare at the two photos you'd sent to him. "Oh, fuck."
In the first one, you were wearing a shimmery light gold colored thing that looked soft. Like maybe almost as soft as your skin. His heart hammered up into his ears as he examined every inch of it on your curves. Your nipples were pebbled against the fabric, and he could practically feel them between his lips. When he swiped to look at the second one, he abruptly stood from his stool with his phone gripped tight in his hand, eyes bugging out.
"Let me guess... your wife sent you photos?" Jake asked, clearly amused.
Instead of verbally responding, Bradley made sure his phone was tipped away from Jake as he zoomed in for a closer look. Holy hell. Your tits were being pushed up in the sexiest black lace he had ever seen. It was sinful, and now he was imagining you wearing it under one of your tweed blazers while giving a lecture. He swallowed hard, realizing he could see the tiniest bit of your tattoos through the little cutout on the side, and he actually whimpered.
"Yeah... she definitely sent you photos," Jake murmured as his own phone chimed. "Oh, Jess just sent me five."
"How did you get five?" Bradley complained, swiping back and forth, desperately looking for more. "I only got two!"
It was then that he noticed you texted him after you sent the pictures.
What do you think, Beer Boy?
Bradley laughed a bit maniacally. What did he think about the lingerie? Ha! He could barely think at all! He paced back and forth a bit, sweating as he wrote back.
You look fucking hot as hell, Sugar. If you don't bring that black top home, I think you'll break my heart.
Bradley cringed, because now Jake was the one who was whimpering. "They're sharing a fitting room," he whispered, and Bradley's eyes went wide with the realization that Jessica must have taken the photos for you. Then his eyes narrowed as he reached for Jake's phone.
"You better not be able to see Sugar in any of the pictures!"
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You and Jessica were wearing matching fluffy robes and sorting through everything you'd already tried on.
"You have to get that thing," you told her, pointing to the garters and stockings. "It fits you like a glove."
She nodded and added it to her 'yes' pile. "And you have to get the thong and bustier," she replied.
"I'm already buying four things," you reminded her. The bustier was nice, and your breasts looked good in it, but you didn't love the color very much. Besides, there was one last thing you hadn't tried on for fear of looking or feeling ridiculous, but there was a part of your brain that just knew your husband would love it.
"Missed one!" Jessica said, pulling on the bright pink fabric like she could read your mind. Always the best cheerleader, she held it up in front of your body and nodded. "It's bold, but I think you can pull it off."
You took it from her, but looked at yourself skeptically in the mirror. "I don't know... it's going to look bad. Like I'm trying too hard. I don't know why I even picked it up."
But you did know. Bradley was attracted to you in that dumb tie dye shirt like you were some sort of exotic bird whenever you put it on. All of the bright colors swirled into something that just lured him right to you. Part of it was nostalgia, sure, but you felt like there was something more as well.
"Actually, I do know why I picked it up," you told Jessica, holding the chemise closer to yourself. "Bradley really likes it when I wear his old shirt that I kind of held hostage for ten years. It's vibrant and bright, and I think this is the sort of thing he might enjoy?" You pursed your lips and sighed. "But, maybe I'm wrong, because he also just seems to like me how I am. No frills, you know? He's always been that way."
Jessica smiled. "Yes, I understand. And I hope you realize that you just described a man who is desperately in love with you, not just how you look. Sounds like the kind of man you should spoil a little bit." She tugged gently on the chemise and added, "This is a far cry from a tee shirt, but you won't know how you feel about it until you try it on."
"You're right."
Once you were out of the robe, you pulled the stretchy lace over your body, and gaped at the deep neckline as Jessica tied the satin ribbons around the back of your neck. You hadn't noticed before, but there were some yellow and orange threads woven in, making delicate swirls in the fabric. Almost like a different kind of tie dye. It actually looked stunning on you, and as you turned from side to side, you already knew you had to have it.
"I'm obsessed," Jessica said, bouncing excitedly as she clapped her hands together. "Should I take one last round of photos for you to send to Bradley?"
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Bradley was lightheaded. He sweat through his shirt, and he had his forehead cradled in his hand as he opened three photos of you wearing something so bright and pink and sexy, he wanted to lick it off of you. Everything was covered up, but barely. In the one shot, he could almost see your ass. In another, he could definitely see your pert nipples. In the other one, he could make out part of your titty tattoos.
It was a good thing Jake was staring at his own phone in amazement, because Bradley was pretty sure he was drooling and incapable of formulating a sentence. He had already written back to you, begging you to buy the pink thing. Telling you he needed it. Letting you know he wanted to peel is slowly off of your body in bed later. In fact, the last thing he sent was 'Buy everything in that whole fucking store, money is no object'. And he meant every word.
Bradley had been crazy about you for so long, and most of the appeal came from how smart you are and the fact that you weren't fussy. You let him dote on you in your work outfits. You wore his clothing around the house. You didn't need all the bells and whistles to be sexy, and you never would.
But now that he knew exactly what you looked like in black satin and colorful lace, he needed to have that version of you, too. He needed it.
"Since when does your wife have tattoos?"
Those words snapped Bradley out of his lust filled stupor, and his brown eyes bore into Jake's green ones. How did he know about your titty tattoos? When his gaze drifted back to his phone, he turned the screen toward Bradley with a grin. Apparently you had taken a photo of Jessica, in which your reflection was visible in the fitting room mirror. You were wearing a bra, and you were as covered up as you would be for a beach day, but Bradley loathed the idea of Jake having any sort of access to those tattoos.
"Hey!" Jake complained as Bradley snatched the phone and deleted the photo. "What the fuck, Bradshaw? I wanted that picture of Jessica! You could have just cropped it."
"Hey, boys!"
Bradley turned in time to toss Jake's phone aside as Jessica headed through the nearly empty bar with you following behind her. There were two enormous shopping bags in your hands, and you had a smile on your face as you asked, "Ready to go home, Beer Boy?"
"Hell yes," he murmured, closing the distance to your lips and kissing you hard. "Did you buy that pink thing? And the black one?"
His hands wound around your waist possessively, and he got even more excited as you tucked the bags behind your back and whispered, "There's only one way to find out."
Bradley started guiding you to the door. "Yeah. We're going home. Right now." He ran his nose along your cheek and gave you one more sweet kiss before shouting over his shoulder, "Thanks for the beers, Bagman. Oh, and Jessica, I need you to crop your photos better next time you take my wife shopping."
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I love Beer Boy for making Sugar feel so good about herself every day. She's a badass, and he knows it. I wrote this as a little wedding treat for @je-suis-prest-rachel Congratulations, Rachel! And thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls
