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.
"Is that all you're bringing?"
You turned toward your husband where he stood in the bedroom doorway, rocking Rose in his arms while she fussed. Your hand stilled on your bag on the bed. "You haven't specifically told me where we're going, Bradley. Just to pack for four nights."
"Mountains," he grunted, like that was supposed to be explanation enough as he pressed a kiss to your daughter's forehead while she reached for his mustache. But that's all he'd been saying. "Just pack some sexy stuff."
You'd been picturing a quaint cabin off the beaten path as the destination for your second wedding anniversary, but Bradley had packed two bags for himself and one for Rose. How much could he possibly need? You were starting to question everything now.
"It's not like I have maternity lingerie," you murmured.
"It's not like you need it, Baby Girl. You look cute in my sweatpants. Or nothing." He walked into the room and glanced into your bag which contained just a few outfits, your boat shoes, and your toiletries. "Maybe you packed enough after all. Let's hit the road. I want Rosie to nap on the way."
Twenty minutes later, your daughter was already sound asleep in her car seat as your husband buckled you into the passenger seat of the red Bronco. You yawned as he pulled the seatbelt over your belly, and he bent to kiss his daughter as she squirmed against your bladder. You contemplated running back inside to use the bathroom again, but you were about to doze off just like Rose.
Bradley's lips brushed yours. "We'll be there in a few hours."
You nodded, thinking you'd wake up for part of the ride to enjoy Bradley's Motown playlist and his rich singing voice. But instead, you managed to sleep through several hundred miles and the sunset, only waking up in time to hear the tires crunching.
"There's snow!" you gasped, gaze catching on the evergreen trees covered in white in the dying light.
"Yeah," Bradley replied between songs on his playlist as he turned down a driveway. "Why do you sound so surprised?"
Your breath fogged the window as an opulent house three times the size of the Craftsman came into view. The windows were glowing orange; there was a porch the size of your entire driveway. "When you said mountains, you meant like whole-ass mountains! I packed my boat shoes!"
Bradley snorted as the Bronco came to a stop while you gawked at the mountains all around. "I added some of your cold weather clothes to my bag. Some of the stuff you used to wear when we went to Maryland for the holidays."
Tomorrow was Thanksgiving. One month until Christmas. It dawned on you that you and Bradley had no real reason to go back east now even though you both had roots there. "After Nugget Part Deux is born, we should take the girls to explore Virginia and Maryland. We can see your cousins. We can stop at the cemetery and visit your parents."
Bradley paused with the driver's side door open, cold air rushing into the Bronco's warm interior as his brown eyes studied yours. "What made you think about that?"
It was hard to put into words the way his parents would fill your mind with sadness and your heart with so much love it almost hurt. "I miss them."
"Me, too," he replied easily, never questioning the way you felt like Carole and Nick held a place in your family although you'd never met them. "Let's do that in the summer. And let's work on picking a name for Nugget Part Deux. It's getting to be a mouthful."
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You were laughing at the sight of Rose in her head-to-toe snow suit, but Bradley was busy making sure her exposed cheeks and nose weren't getting too much of the cold air. He kept picking her up from the snowy cabin steps to press his lips to her face.
"Feels okay," he whispered, letting her continue to play. She seemed to like the cold as she crawled toward the spot where you were sitting, compiling a small mound of snowballs as you casually tossed out one of the baby names that you claimed was on your short list.
"Nora?"
Bradley grunted in response. "It's okay." Personally, he had really liked some of the names that seemed to match better with Rose's. "What about Violet? Wasn't that on the list?" He watched Rose pat the snowballs and giggle as you scooped her up. Two cute little girls with pretty flower names just made sense.
"Yeah, I liked that one. And I liked Poppy."
"Me, too," he agreed, watching your smiling face as you put some of your snowballs into Rose's mittened hand and tried to launch them at him. When they fell short, you threw them directly at his chest instead.
"She's not cooperating!" you complained. "You're supposed to be on my team, Rosie. The girls team."
"Absolutely not." Bradley scooped up some of the powdery snow and sprinkled it over your head until you were rolling your eyes. "Rosie is on Team Daddy. Better luck with Poppy Violet, Sweetheart."
As he plucked the baby from your hands, you smiled up at him. "So it's settled then? She has a name? For real?"
Naming Rose after a song he'd played for you made sense, but this made sense, too. "Yeah. She officially has a name," Bradley said softly as his gaze settled on your belly. It was hard to tell you were pregnant with your winter coat zipped up and snug around your body, but his hands were so used to the way your hips and waist felt right now. Suddenly he couldn't wait to touch you. "Let's go inside. I don't want Rosie to get too cold, and the wind is starting to pick up now that it's getting dark."
"You just want to mess around," you replied, getting to your feet on the snowy steps.
"Of course I want to mess around. My wife is hot."
Your eye roll was accompanied by a little smirk. "Let me feed Rosie so she can take a nap, and then it can be your turn."
Bradley watched you settle into the overstuffed couch in front of the floor to ceiling windows overlooking the mountains. Fresh snow was beginning to fall as he poked at the logs in the fireplace, making sure the great room was warm enough for his girls. Then, as Rose curled against your round belly, he made himself useful in the adjoining kitching. He knew you'd be hungry for dinner after you were done feeding her, and Bradley was always hungry. The leftover turkey deli meat and stove top stuffing would make the most perfect sandwiches, so he lined everything up on the counter.
"It's so pretty here," you murmured, eyes fixed on the windows as he dimmed the lights so you could see the heavy snowfall that was moving in. "I wonder how much snow they'll have here by Christmas."
"We could find out next year," Bradley mused. "We can come back with your parents and the girls. There are four bedrooms, after all."
"Do I even want to know how much you spent on this?" you asked, turning to look at him.
Bradley deftfully dodged the question. "Just imagine a huge tree in the corner. Poppy's first Christmas. I'm sure your mom would make dinner, or we could just do sandwiches again. I'm kind of liking the sandwiches."
"I'm kind of liking all of this," you whispered, repositioning Rose to burp her, but Bradley loved that task. He settled on the couch beside you and took her in his big hands, patting her back. "You were right, Roo. We needed a little break as a family."
When you went to put your bra back on, he shook his head. "Don't bother with that. I'm going to be all over you in a minute. Rose always burps quickly for me, just like a good little Nugget."
His sentence was followed by a soft burp that made you laugh, which made your tits bounce, which made Bradley whimper as he stood to put the baby down for a nap so he could get his fill of you.
When he returned to the living room, you were naked, skin glowing in the firelight as you coaxed him closer to the couch. "Oh, you look so pretty, Baby Girl. We're definitely going to have to come back here."
You giggled as you unzipped his jeans and straddled his lap. "We can't fuck in front of the fireplace if my parents are here with us."
"Please, stop talking about them," he whispered, letting your heavy breasts fill his palms as you guided his erection to your pussy. Your body was perfect and welcoming as he filled you until you gasped. "That's a good girl."
Your head lulled back as he wrapped his lips around your nipple, and you kept his cock warm until it was time for him to fuck the absolute shit out of you.
----------------------------
As soon as you stirred in the California King sized bed that you and Bradley had spent the better part of last night defiling, you heard him rasp, "Happy Anniversary, Sweetheart."
You stretched, feeling the workout he'd given you throughout your entire body. You were sore, in a good way, but combined with your pregnancy exhaustion, you were hoping to sleep in a little longer. His smile more than made up for the early hour when you looked at him.
"Has it really only been two years? It feels a lot longer than that," you whispered, kissing along his unshaven cheek to his mustache.
"I'm not sure if that's a compliment, or..."
"It's a compliment," you promised, wrapping your arms around him. "Hey, remember that time you asked me out and I said no?"
"Hmm, vaguely." He squinted at the ceiling and chuckled as his hand came to rest on the side of your belly where Poppy was currently thumping around. "But that didn't last long. And look how far we've come, Baby Girl." He turned his head, dark eyes earnest as he asked, "Want to take a bath while I get breakfast ready? I brought the thermometer to test the water for you."
He had packed pretty much anything you or either of your daughters might possibly need. And a bath did sound good, especially after last night. But since you couldn't have the water as hot as you liked, you didn't linger very long, opting to join your husband istead.
More snow had fallen overnight, but he had a fire warming the living room where he was walking around, holding Rose to his chest with one hand. He was singing a song from his Motown playlist, and you were shocked she was reaching for his mustache instead of crying to eat. But that changed as soon as she saw you.
"Not so fast, Nugget," he crooned. "Let Mommy take a bite of her breakfast first." That's when you noticed two slices of confetti cake and two flutes of pink champagne on the coffee table. "It's non-alcoholic, so have as much as you want. And I brought the cake from your favorite bakery back in San Diego."
Somehow it was perfect. Everything was perfect. Bradley in his ratty gym shorts and Rose fussing to eat. Cake for breakfast and couch snuggles for the entire day.
"I love you, Bradley," you promised, reaching for his hand and pulling him close until his lips found yours for probably the millionth time in just a few years. "I love you so much. You make everything perfect."
His lips curled against yours as he smiled. "I just want to spend the day with my girls."
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Let that man enjoy spending time with his girlies! He earned it! That's the end of the series, besties! This has been so fun for me! Thanks you so much for reading along and leaving so much love. I'd love to visit Roo and BG (and all these other wild and crazy kids) through asks, blurbs and one-shots, so please feel free to send them to me. Love love love you!
Summary: Work is finally peaceful for Bradley. While it seems like everyone around him is moving to a new stage of life, he knows he is, too. He's surrounded by so much love already, and more will be blooming soon as he counts down to the end of your pregnancy.
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.
Work was an adjustment. In a good way. It took Bradley a few days to remember he didn't have to look over his shoulder for Indigo. He didn't have to keep his head on a swivel, wondering if she was giving you a hard time somewhere on base. He could just get his work done without interference.
When he eyed the burrito bowls in the cafeteria at lunchtime, he checked his phone, wondering what was taking you so long to come down. "You okay, Soul Sister?" Nat asked, squeezing his shoulder. "Want to sit with Bob, Maria and me?"
Bradley grunted, and shook his head. "I'll wait for my wife."
"I don't think she's coming," Nat replied casually, bypassing the burrito bowls in favor of the baked pasta.
"How do you know that?" Bradley asked, double checking to see if he'd missed a text from you while he was in his classroom all morning. But there was nothing.
"I was talking to her when her boss tracked her down. He looked flustered, telling her he needed her in his office."
Bradley's brow creased as he picked up just one burrito bowl instead of two. He eyed the green hot sauce you were obsessed with, but it wouldn't taste as good without you sitting next to him. "Did Bickel seem upset with her?" Bradley knew how much you loved working for your commanding officer, and that feeling seemed to go both ways.
Nat shrugged. "Less upset and more concerned. I'm sure she's fine."
Bradley settled in next to his best friend and across the table from Maria and Bob, but he barely got one bite of food in his mouth before Maverick was standing next to him.
"I'd eat that as quickly as possible. Cyclone wants to see us."
"Now?" he asked his godfather, wondering why his day kept getting more annoying since parting ways with you. Maybe he should just cancel his afternoon flight.
"I'll meet you there in fifteen minutes," Maverick said, leaving him to practically inhale his food while the others conversed.
Apparently Bob and Maria were giving up their lease to move into a nicer one-bedroom place together. While that information wasn't surprising, it made Bradley a little sad. You'd been the one living in that apartment with Maria when Bradley fell in love with you. Your little bedroom was where he'd poured his heart out to you in the early days. It was where he made love to you for the first time.
"I'll help you move," Bradley immediately offered, getting a nod in return from Bob. He really wanted the opportunity to be in that sacred space one last time while he had the chance. And getting brownie points with one of your best friends was never a bad move.
"Thanks, Rooster," Bob replied as Bradley shoveled the last of his burrito bowl into his mouth and got up to leave again. Whatever Cyclone wanted, it was best not to keep the man waiting. But honestly, Bradley couldn't understand how his perfectly good morning was deteriorating so quickly. Waking up with his hand on your belly felt like days ago, and what if Admiral Simpson wanted him for something annoying? Fuck, what if he was about to get deployed even though he'd been promised those would become few and far between? What if he wasn't even home for your due date?
He was counting how many weeks were left in your pregnancy while he knocked on the office door. If he had to spend the anniversary weekend he'd planned at the cabin telling you he was leaving, you would be so upset. You and he needed a break together.
"Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw. Have a seat." Bradley met Cyclone's eyes where he stood next to his desk with Maverick. He hated to be the only one in the room sitting, but he was left with little choice. Bradley sank into the chair while Cyclone cleared his throat. "I wanted to take a few minutes to wrap up your complaints against Lieutenant Jeffries."
Bradley cringed, and Maverick crossed his arms over his chest like he was fighting to stand still. "Yes, Sir," Bradley agreed with a nod, hoping he wouldn't have to rehash anything that had already happened.
"I was notified of her separation this morning. An admiral in Texas called me first thing." Bradley sat up straighter in his chair as Cyclone said, "Lieutenant Jeffries has been formally discharged."
Now Bradley had to fight a smile as he replied. "Thank you for letting me know, Sir."
It was obvious Maverick had something to add. "Bradley. Uh, Rooster," he corrected quickly. "During some of our discussions, you voiced concerns about staying in your current role." Bradley swore his heart stopped as Mav added, "Do you still feel that way?"
Bradley stayed silent. For weeks and months he'd been wondering if he was in the right place. Wondering if he was effective as a teacher rather than just another body in another Super Hornet in the air making decisions without considering the consequences. But the main reason he had been second guessing himself was Indigo. He'd keep his head on a swivel from now on. He'd never let something like that happen again. It was easy to reconsider things without her on base. His classes were fun again. He enjoyed teaching. He loved watching his students take what they learned to the air.
But the best part was being at home with you every night. At home with Rosie. At home enjoying the countdown to the arrival of his second daughter.
"No, I don't feel that way now," Bradley rasped as he shook his head. "I'm where I belong."
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When you realized you'd inadvertently bailed on your husband, you felt bad, but that feeling didn't last for long. When you got to Bickel's office at the same time as Cat, you and she shared a brief look before he ushered you inside. Once you were all seated, your boss broke out into a smile.
"I don't know how you manage to do it, but you two always surpass my expectations."
You pressed your lips together to keep yourself quiet, because you had no idea what he could be talking about. The baby was squirming around and thumping on your ribs as you tried to remain chill without looking at Cat. You adjusted your maternity tent and let your boss continue.
"The quick work you put in to test the new software updates ahead of schedule was so successful, your efforts are being recognized."
Now you were shaking from holding back your laughter, and Cat cleared her throat awkwardly three times. "Thank you, Sir," she said calmly with a smirk. "We try our best."
The look on her face made you start coughing. Was she hoping to make you pee your pants? You thought you might as you took a deep breath and listened to Bickel lay out an upcoming timeline for the continued software testing. It wasn't like you didn't know the updates would be successful; you and Cat worked too hard for anything otherwise. But Indigo was the reason you wanted to ground an aircraft ahead of schedule.
When you were finally dismissed, you rushed toward the bathroom with Cat on your heels. "Are you still nauseous?" she asked as you headed for the first stall. "You're awfully late in your pregnancy to still be so nauseous."
"No! I have to pee! I don't know how you stayed so calm throughout that meeting. I thought I was going to explode with laughter."
She was still smirking when you washed your hands. "Remember all those promises you made about watching Jer for me if I was willing to finish the code in a hurry?"
"I do," you replied easily. "Want to drop him off at my house after work one day this week so you and Jake can get into some nasty shit for a few hours?"
Cat's laughter echoed throughout the space as she doubled over, cackling. "I guess that depends upon your definition of nasty.... we're trying to figure out which day we can go apply for our marriage license." You screamed before she clapped her hand over your mouth. "Shh! Are you out of your mind?"
"Marriage license!" you screeched when she freed you. "Jake is such a fuckboy, and you're so in love with him!"
"You're the one who told me he's a good guy in the first place!"
"He is!" you insisted, beaming at her. "And he'll be the best dad for Jer."
Instead of returning to your office or the lab, you dashed toward the elevators and went downstairs. As soon as the November sun hit your face, you felt like this day couldn't get any better. The walk to the tower was filled with the distant sound of jet wash and a breeze that gave you goosebumps. When you reached the aviator's lounge, the first person you saw when you opened the door was your husband holding a disposable coffee cup and chatting with Natasha, but you rushed past them.
"Hi, Roo," you offered, patting him quickly on his flat belly as you headed for Jake who was sweaty and unzipping the top of his flight suit. You flung your arms around him, and he held you awkwardly with your bump pressed against him.
"Whoa, Angel. What's got you throwing yourself at me?" he asked with a laugh. "Not that I mind..." he added, winking at Bradley as you pulled away.
"You didn't tell me you're getting married," you hissed quietly so the others couldn't hear over their conversation. "I can't believe you didn't tell me!"
Jake's cheeks paled as he wrapped his fingers gently around your bicep, guiding you toward the window. "Damn, Cat can't keep her mouth shut," he muttered, glancing outside. "We don't actually have anything planned yet, but I convinced her to get the marriage license. That'll give us ninety days to make it happen." He turned his green eyes your way and added, "My lawyer said Jeremiah's biological father stands less of a chance of locating him if I adopt him. Make him a Seresin," he grunted softly. "It's just Cat's name listed on Jer's birth certificate, and I'd really like to change that as soon as possible."
"Jake," you gasped, tears filling your eyes. "You're so in love with them."
He nodded. "I am. And I told Cat she'd have a spectacular wedding in ninety days or less if she promised to get the marriage license now. She told me she doesn't want to spend any money. Claims I've spent enough to help her get free from her ex. But I want her to have whatever she wants-"
"She wants you. You're already Jer's dad. Just marry her. Keep it simple."
"Are you ever going to give me a hug?" Bradley called from across the room. "It's been like two minutes, Sweetheart."
Jake smirked and nudged your shoulder with his bicep. "Get over there so he stops whining."
"I'm not whining," Bradley whined. "I just want a hug from my wife and daughter." He tossed his empty cup into the trash when you slotted yourself into his arms. "That's better," he murmured, lips meeting your forehead as you let your cheek rest against his chest.
"He whined when you missed lunch, too," Natasha said casually as you laughed.
Bradley huffed. "Is it really such a bad thing that I like being around my family?"
"Not at all." You glanced up at him. "And I think it's kind of cute when you whine about it." He rolled his eyes, but he was smiling as his fingers crept around to your hip, holding you tight. "Guess what Bickel told me earlier."
"That you're the best officer he's ever worked with and he wants you to take over his lab when he retires?"
Your heart fluttered at your husband's words; he was your biggest fan. "Not quite. But Cat and I are being recognized for our work on the Super Hornet comms. And I kind of have Indigo to thank for it in a very twisted way."
"Oh! She's out of the Navy, Baby Girl."
You blinked up at him. "She is?" you whispered, mind swirling with the image of Indigo storming away from you in a rage the last time you saw her.
"Yeah, she's toast," he replied, lips meeting your forehead again as Natasha and Jake headed out. "I had a meeting with Mav and Cyclone."
"When were you going to tell me?"
Bradley's lips curled into a smile as he took your hand and kissed along your knuckles. "I'd have remembered later at some point, but Indigo is the farthest thing from my mind now. I'm more intersted in going home and packing for our trip and fucking you."
You glanced around to make sure everyone else had cleared out. "Okay, that does sound fun, but we have to babysit Jeremiah one evening this week."
"Can't it wait until next week after we get back from the mountains?" he whispered. "I'm in family mode, looking forward to our anniversary."
"Nope. We absolutely have to watch Jer for them. It's a necessity, Roo."
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"Jesus," Bradley groaned, kicking your maternity uniform across the bedroom floor before it could trip him up. Dinner was in the oven, Rose was napping, and you were easing yourself back on the bed, nearly naked. He watched you pull your sensible underwear down until he could see your rooster tattoo, and then he pounced.
"Roo!" you squealed, wrapping your leg around his hip as he held himself over your body, his hands planted on either side of your head. "You have to make it quick. And you're never quick."
"I know," he grunted, biting his lip as you rubbed yourself against the fly of his khakis. All he wanted at the moment was to take his time licking that bead of milk from your nipple before treating his mouth to your entire body. But there wasn't time. Jake Seresin would be here shortly to ruin his fun.
Your hand on his zipper prompted him to savor that bit of your milk as you pulled him free of his pants. Then you guided him right where he belonged, and he sank inch by inch into your pussy until you moaned his name.
"That's fucking beautiful." He kissed away all the little sounds you made as he fucked you slowly; they could just wait out on the porch with Jeremiah until Bradley was done with you for all he cared.
But something about having you naked and beneath him while he was still fully clothed in his uniform made Bradley realize he wasn't going to last too long. The bounce of your tits as your fingers dug into his hair. The scrape of your nails along his scalp as your pupils grew wide. The way your growing belly took up more space than usual. It was all designed to make him insane. He knew it. He wasn't going to fight it. You'd win every time anyway.
"How do you do this to me?" murmured against your neck, inhaling your scent with a gasping breath as your pussy pulsed around him. "How do you fuck me up like this?"
Your answer was your lips on his jaw as Bradley swallowed hard, fucking you as his body tensed above yours. "Roo," you gasped, lips parting, rolling your hips. He couldn't hang on when it was this good. When your voice was in his ear, coaxing him along.
"God, Roo. Daddy!"
That did it. His thrusts grew shorter as he came, pushing himself deep, filling you with his cum until he let his weight settle halfway on top of you. He was never done until you got what you deserved, but as soon as he dragged his fingers along your tattoo and let them settle on your clit, Tramp started barking.
"They're here," you moaned, starting to sit up with Bradley's cock still buried deep.
"But I'm not done with you," he whispered, keeping you in place while Tramp howled. But it was useless. "Fuck!" He pulled himself free, forfeiting the opportunity to watch his cum leak out of you as he stood. Bradley tucked himself back into his pants and did up the zipper, scowling. "Hangman ruins everything, I swear to god." He pulled one of his old undershirts and some gym shorts from his drawer as you laughed and stood. "I'll finish you off later," he promised with a kiss, pressing his clothing into your hand.
"I know you will."
Bradley was in no mood for company, but when he opened the front door, Jer clapped his hands with a big smile on his face. "Hey, Buddy," he said, smiling reluctantly as Jeremiah climbed from Cat's arms into his. "Tramp is so excited to play with you."
"Tramp!" Jeremiah reached down trying to pet the dog while he went wild.
"Thanks for babysitting," Jake said as he strolled in from the porch earning an eye roll from Bradley.
"It's no big deal," Bradley replied through clenched teeth, trying not to glare. It wasn't like Jake and Cat had any idea what they'd interrupted. Or at least they didn't until you came rushing down the hallway into the living room with Bradley's undershirt on backward. Cat didn't seem to notice, but Jake stifled his laughter behind his hand.
"Hi, Jeremiah!" you crooned, running your fingers along his cheek. "We're going to have so much fun. Rose will be awake soon, and we can go out back to the playset."
"Sorry about the timing," Jake muttered.
"No, you're not," Bradley whispered. "Now get out of here."
Jake laced his fingers with Cat's as she said, "We'll be back in less than two hours."
"Take your time," you said, waving her off. "We'll have so much fun while you're gone." You took Jeremiah's hand and led him to the couch where you'd left a stack of Rose's books, ready for the occasion.
When Bradley closed the front door, he heard his daughter's cries coming from the nursery. He rushed in to scoop her up, kissing her fuzzy hair and changing her diaper before carrying her to the living room where you were reading Jeremiah the silly goose book.
"Whoa, Baby Girl. You need to start over. Rosie and I love this book."
"Love!" Jer cheered as Bradley settled down on the couch next to him. The little boy suddenly seemed more interested in Rose than in the book, but you obliged everyone by starting the story at the beginning.
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The sun was setting after dinner as you nursed Rose on the patio wearing Bradley's clothes and your boat shoes. You hadn't taken the time to turn his shirt the other way, too busy bustling around with the two, well, three kids.
"Higher?" Bradley asked.
"Higher!" Jeremiah replied, and you watched your husband push his swing harder. Peels of laugher filled the backyard, and now Rose was crying for a different reason. She seemed to want to join in the fun as Tramp ran around the playset in circles.
"Jake needs to get this kid a puppy," Bradley eventually said as Jeremiah reached for the dog again. Really, the only thing that seemed more interesting to him was Rose, and he shifted his focus as you walked their way, Tramp immediately forgotten.
"Can you say Rose?" you asked Jeremiah as his swing came to a stop in front of Bradley. "Rose."
He tried his best but struggled with the R sound as Rose reached for his hair. "Be nice, Rosie," Bradley scolded, scooping up Jeremiah at the same time he took Rose from your arms. The sight of him holding both kids was almost too much, and you reached for one of the wooden playset posts to keep yourself standing. He kissed your daughter's cheek and said, "It's getting dark out here. How about a snack and one more round of the silly goose book?"
"We could do that," you whispered, letting your hand rest on your belly. For the briefest second, you started rethinking your threat about the vasectomy.
"You have to read it again," Bradley murmured, leading the way to the sliding glass door with his arms full. "The kids love your voice, and so do I."
By the time you finished the book, Rose was falling asleep and Jeremiah was yawning. But Bradley looked attentive, eyes calculating. At the sound of a knock on the door, he was up from the couch with Jeremiah in his arms. "Well, it's been fun, little man, but it's time for you to leave."
"I didn't even get to say goodbye!" you complained, holding Rose.
Bradley turned around so you could kiss Jeremiah on the cheek, and then he thrust the child into Cat's arms and closed the door as soon as she said thank you.
"That wasn't very nice," you said with a laugh.
"I disagree, Sweetheart," he told you as he reached for Rose. "I thought that was pretty fucking nice considering what they interrupted earlier. Now say goodnight to your daughter and go get undressed."
"Stop swearing in front of the baby," you scolded half-heartedly before he kissed your lips. God, he was doing numbers on you right now. He was in his demanding 'dad' mode while still wearing his uniform, and you moaned out loud. "Okay, fine. I'll go get undressed."
Everything felt so good tonight. You could hear Bradley singing to Rose as you went to the bathroom and did your bedtime routine. You didn't have to wait long after you tugged his undershirt over your head before he appeared in the bedroom doorway. His brown eyes were playful, but his gaze was glued to your body. "Now, where were we?"
You trailed your hand down your side, along your swollen belly, and let your fingertips graze your tattoo. "Right about here, Roo."
He nodded in agreement, closing the distance with three long strides before kneeling in front of you. His hands wrapped around your thighs as his lips and mustache met your rooster tattoo before skimming along your belly. "Yeah. Right about here."
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Well, I was wrong... there will be one more part after this! Stay tuned for an anniversary trip. And don't forget to send me your thoughts about hcs and blurbs! Thanks for reading!
Summary: Bradley would never forgive himself if you got hurt. It feels like he's been biding his time for ages, and his patience has worn thin. When Maverick returns to base, things finally start to change, but in whose favor?
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.
You settled on the couch with the new ultrasound photos from our appointment on Monday, eager to show them to your parents. But Bradley had other ideas.
"Roo," you hissed, pulling his hand away from your chest while you looked at your reflection on the iPad screen. "Knock it off."
"I'm horny," he whispered against your neck. You could hear the whine in his voice. He'd been very understanding when you told him that you needed to work late the past few days to help Cat, especially after you explained that she was bogged down with extra work because of Indigo. But now he was pouting on the couch with his other hand slipping into the back of your leggings while the call to your parents connected.
Your mom's voice rang out as Bradley grabbed your butt. "Hi!"
"Hi, Mom!" you replied, voice entirely too peppy as you tried to scoot away from your husband. You shot him a glare as he smirked and finally folded his hands in his lap. "How's packing going?"
"Oh, it's so stressful," she complained, going into a rant about all of the bins of things she'd been saving since you were a kid. You let her ramble, knowing she was secretly excited to be able to let Rose and the second baby play with your old toys someday after they moved to Coronado. Bradley and your dad sat quietly until your mom took a deep breath and asked, "What are you doing for Thanksgiving?"
Now you felt like pouting. They would be moved into their new house in time for Christmas but not Thanksgiving. "Probably making dinner for our friends. Just hanging out with everyone here," you told her with a shrug.
"No."
You turned to look at Bradley who was shaking his head.
"What do you mean no?" you asked. "Are you going to cook Thanksgiving dinner for everyone? Your kitchen skills are much improved, Roo, but that seems a bit ambitious."
Bradley snorted and leaned in to kiss your cheek. "You're not cooking. I'm not cooking. We won't even be here, Baby Girl," he whispered. Then he turned to face the iPad. "I'm taking my girls away for an anniversary trip. We'll be gone that weekend."
Your mom looked like she was going to swoon. "Really?" you asked, letting his hand creep up your thigh toward your belly. "We're going away?"
Bradley's eyes held innocence as he grinned. "Yeah. Don't you remember when I asked you just the other day if you'd prefer the mountains or the lake?"
"Oh," you whispered. You did remember. He had been fingering you at the time, your pussy slick and full of his cum. When your cheeks grew warm, you realized you did not want to have the rest of this conversation with your parents listening in. "Yes, I do recall that, actually." You cleared your throat. "We should let you go. It's late."
"But we didn't get to talk to Rose!" your dad complained.
"She's still taking her after-dinner nap," you told him apologetically. "Maybe tomorrow! Love you!"
When you ended the call, Bradley was already tugging on your shirt. "Please," he murmured. "I'm so horny. I'll do anything you want. On the couch, in bed, in the shower, anything you want, Sweetheart."
"I want you to tell me where we're going, Roo," you replied sweetly as he pulled your shirt over your head and palmed your breasts through your sports bra. It was a wonder he could get hard right now after he'd seen you wearing your maternity tent less than an hour ago.
"Mountains," he grunted, pulling you closer.
You knew he was planning something, but you didn't know it was already worked out. "I'm impressed," you told him as you carefully removed your bra. "You did this all by yourself?"
"Nothing's too good for my girls." His voice was raspy, already fading into the silent room as he eased you onto his lap. You fed Rose not terribly long ago. You were tired. Your breasts weren't very perky at the moment. But Bradley moaned as soon as his lips met your nipple. His cock was hard against your thigh as you settled in.
With his big hand splayed along the side of your growing bump, you let him get his fill of rubbing his nose and mustache all over your chest. Your back arched as he started grinding his hips up to yours.
"Does this mean we can get nasty on the couch?" he whispered, flashing his brown eyes up to yours. When you giggled, he added, "It's been days." Part of you wanted to tell him that your back hurt and you couldn't handle getting twisted into a pretzel right now, but you slid down to the floor between his legs, his eyes tracking your every move. "What are you doing?" he mumbled, a little grin finding his lips as you tugged on the waistband of his gym shorts.
"Stop acting like you don't know I'm about to suck your dick," you whispered, trying not to laugh as his cock bobbed out from his underwear.
A soft sound at the back of his throat spurred you on. He simultaneously scooted his hips closer to you while he settled back against the couch. "I didn't want to assume," he murmured, eyes wide as you took him between your parted lips. "Fuck. I'm so spoiled."
You hummed your response around his cock which had his head tipping back as he reached for your face. Big, calloused fingers brushed along your cheek before trailing to the back of your head. You controlled the pace, but that bit of pressure from his excited hand made you suck a little harder just to hear his appreciation.
Long, languid strokes had Bradley's restraint slipping. After he tapped the back of your throat his hips rose incrementally from the couch. When your tongue circled his tip, his hips were up again. He was eager to cum, so you slowed your pace.
"Jesus," he whimpered, balls tightening as you sucked on them. You could feel your saliva drip down his cock to your face as you ran your tongue in circles. "Keep this up, and you'll never not be pregnant, Sweetheart."
Before you could react, Bradley was pulling you to your feet, careful not to be too rough. He yanked your leggings down and guided you back to his lap.
He was big and thick, but your body welcomed him as he filled your pussy. "You're getting a vasectomy after this one, Roo."
He gasped, whether from your words or from the way your pussy was already squeezing around him with need, you weren't sure. You wanted to reiterate that two kids was plenty for you and he to handle, but his palm met your butt, guiding you in a slow roll that erased all thoughts from your brain.
"We'll talk about that later," he crooned, kissing your lips softly. "Right now, I want you to think about how bad you need me." You moaned in spite of yourself at his cocky words. "I want you to think about how good Daddy takes care of his girls."
"Oh, god," you whimpered, bouncing on his cock. "You do. You do," you babbled. One swipe of his finger along your clit, and you were seeing stars. Hadn't he been the one begging for this? How did you become the needy one right now? "Fuck!"
You were panting as he guided you along, taking you for everything you had until your face was buried against his neck to quiet yourself as you came. He knew what to do, and he was too good at it, pinching and plucking your clit until your hips rolled to a stop as your pussy squeezed him gently.
When you opened your eyes, you were still dizzy as Bradley held you. Your pussy was slick with his cum, both of you spent as his hand settled on the side of your belly.
"We'll circle back to that vasectomy conversation later," he whispered as you laughed softly with his cock still inside you. "Right now, I don't want you to move an inch."
"That's convenient," you mumbled, "because I think my bones are jello." You snuggled in closer, eyelids heavy, but Bradley's body jerked beneath you.
"Holy shit," he gasped, sitting more upright as you grabbed his shoulders.
"What's wrong?"
"I can feel her," he whispered, his hand trailing along your belly, pressing firmly. "I can feel our daughter moving."
You were so used to her almost-constant squirming, it took you a beat to realize that she was turning somersaults below your ribcage, but she was moving a lot. Bradley's gaze met yours, and a beaming smile filled his face as he adjusted his hand an inch higher.
"She's moving a lot, Roo. I think she likes your voice."
Tears glittered in your husband's eyes, and you kissed his cheeks. It felt so good to be back on solid ground in your relationship. Perhaps you never had anything to worry about, but moments like this one were priceless to you.
"I love you so much," Bradley promised, his lips finding yours, kissing you through his words. "I love my girls. This is the best fucking day."
When Rose started crying to eat again, you finally crawled from your husband's lap. But he followed you into the nursery, claiming, "I want to be close to the three of you." He barely left your side for the rest of the night.
-----------------------------
Bradley was still stressed out about Indigo. He didn't really think about her when he was at home, but when he got to work and saw her lurking about, his anxiety seemed to spike. Today, she was outside his classroom when the others filed in for his lecture. He wondered how much longer the little scheme you and Cat worked up could possibly keep her on the ground. He still didn't have all the details, not that he wanted them, but he knew better. She would be back in the air by the end of the year. And he hadn't heard a word about his complaints against her.
"Good morning, Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw," Indigo sang, setting Bradley's teeth on edge. He had to take deep breaths and remind himself that he couldn't rage at her. When he thought about how he spent last night feeling the baby kicking, he calmed down.
"Lieutenant Jeffries. I trust you haven't forgotten you're not permitted in my classroom?"
Her smirk was obnoxious. "Of course not, Sir. I was just simply stopping by to inform you that your superior is back." Her smirk turned into a bright, joyful smile. "And I'm going to stop by his office."
Maverick was back from Lemoore. Mav was back, and somehow Indigo knew about it before he did. While that rubbed him the wrong way, Bradley thought perhaps things could move along faster now. Maybe there was a way out of this whole mess. He wanted his life to go back to normal again. He needed it.
"Enjoy your morning, Lieutenant Jeffries. Don't forget to stay out of the aviators' lounge."
Bradley closed the door softly instead of slamming it, and then he got his notes out. The other students were eager to hear what he had planned. Even Spice seemed to have distanced herself from Indigo which was interesting; perhaps she valued her career more than a toxic friend. Bradley wrote some notes on the board and got to work.
What was supposed to be a two hour long discussion with the group was cut short halfway through. When he walked around the classroom, pausing to answer a question, Bradley's gaze was drawn toward the window. He saw you outside in the sunlight near the hangar. It was impossible to miss you in your maternity uniform, not that he would ever tell you that, but even the curve of your cheek was unmistakable to him.
God, you were fucking perfect. His heart skipped around in his chest as he watched you turn back toward your office, and he crept closer to the window for a better look. He couldn't wait until lunchtime so he could sit with you.
Then his back went ramrod straight, and Bradley froze. Indigo walked past you, checking your shoulder with hers. "What the fuck?" Bradley snarled under his breath. Indigo kept walking like she hadn't just intentionally run into you. You. A pregnant woman. Bradley's pregnant wife. "You're all dismissed," he barked, heading for the classroom door as quickly as he could walk. Once he was in the hallway, he was running for the exit in the atrium.
The sunlight was blinding, but he saw you immediately. When he called your name, you turned to him and smiled. Indigo was nowhere in sight now as he ran to get to you.
"Are you okay?" he demanded, touching your shoulder before letting his hand settle on your belly.
"Yeah, I just had to take something to Cat. Why are you out of breath?" you asked, kissing his cheek softly before he wrapped you up in a hug. "What's going on, Bradley?"
He kissed along your forehead and said, "I saw Indigo plow into you through the window. She did it intentionally."
"Oh. Yeah. She does that all the time. I wish she'd just hit me in the face already, because I'm not about to retaliate."
Bradley held you at arm's length, eyes wide. "Don't say that! I don't want her laying a finger on you!"
You took a deep breath and sighed. "You know none of this would be a problem if you weren't so sexy, right?" Bradley's cheeks felt warm as you tucked yourself against him again. "I need to get back to my lab, but I'll see you at lunch. We can start discussing baby names."
As you strolled away, Bradley once again felt terrible that you were in this mess with him.
----------------------------
You didn't want Bradley worrying any more than he always was, but Indigo did hit your shoulder pretty hard this time. You were still rubbing it when you walked into your building and headed for the elevators.
It felt like you were trapped in some realm filled with optical illusions; somehow Indigo was standing in front of the elevator buttons. How she got inside so quickly was beyond you.
"Excuse me," you told her, trying to reach for the up arrow with your chin held high, but she didn't move. "You're in my way."
"How does it feel knowing your husband fucked me in his office?" she whispered. Your hand stilled in the air as you met her horrible, blue eyes. "How does it feel knowing I can have him whenever I want? Every Monday after his office hours. This past Monday was something else. Would you like some details?"
It made you physically sick that she thought she had some sort of grasp on you and Bradley. It would be nice to hit her in the face instead of the other way around. But you knew she was lying. She was grasping at straws. Bradley had skipped his office hours on Monday in favor of joining you for your appointment with Dr. Morris just like he always did. The woman in front of you was beyond ridiculous.
"Do you want to know the details?" she demanded. "Answer me."
"I don't answer to you!" Your voice had her taking a step back until she hit the wall between the elevator doors. "I outrank you in every way."
"You can't do this to me," she hissed. "You think you're an admiral on a power trip or something, but you can't ground me indefinitely, Lieutenant Commander."
Just as your lips parted, ready to put her in her place, you heard boots squeak in the polished floor to your left. You glanced that way to see the confident stride of Bradley's godfather as Maverick yanked his aviators off. His gaze was like steel as he stopped at your side.
"Maybe she doesn't quite have the power to ground you indefinitely, but I certainly do, Lieutenant Jeffries."
"Sir," she complained with a pout, "you don't understand what she's trying to do to me. She grounded me and my Super Hornet, Captain Mitchell. She's trying to ruin my career for no good reason. Her commanding officer should be informed that she's manipulating things the way she wants them when I've done nothing wrong."
You were seeing red. She was the one who started this whole thing, not you. And she was the one who kept trying to goad you on because she didn't get what she wanted. And now she was trying to make you look bad in front of Mav. You couldn't tell if you were about to laugh or cry.
"Enough," Mav barked. "I don't want to hear another word. One conversation with her commanding officer, and you'll be eating your words, Lieutenant Jeffries. And do you honestly think anything happens to one of the Super Hornets in the Pacific fleet without me knowing about it?"
Instead of a verbal response, Indigo blushed bright pink and shook her head slowly.
Maverick cleared his throat and lowered his volume a bit. "Someone in your position should be keeping a low profile, but you can't seem to help yourself."
"Someone in my position?" she asked, her gaze flickering your way briefly.
Shaking his head, Maverick said, "I've never seen a harassment case against a subordinate open and close so quickly."
"What?" Indigo squeaked, fingers curling into fists at her sides.
"It seems you have a history of behaving poorly around your male superiors," Maverick added. "I was going to let you save face and have this conversation in my office this afternoon, but it's a little too late for that. Maybe things worked in your favor in the past. You seem the type who got used to getting their own way. But that kind of behavior doesn't belong at Top Gun. And you were barking up the wrong tree with Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw from the beginning. Not only is he happily married, his wife has more friends and allies on base than you'll ever know about. Pack your locker and meet me in my office. You're going back to Texas today."
"Texas!" Indigo wailed. "I'm too good for that program."
Maverick reached around her for the elevator button. "I wouldn't worry about that. You're about to learn that the Navy is too good for you. Now get out of my sight."
It felt like everything shifted as you watched Indigo storm away. Her shoulders slumped, and she seemed to fold in on herself. It was a far cry from her usual behavior as Maverick guided you into the elevator with him when the doors opened.
"Are you okay?" he whispered, tipping your chin up so you met his eyes. "I really didn't mean for you to hear all of that."
"I'm okay," you whispered before wrapping your arms around him as tears leaked from your eyes. "Thanks for looking out for Bradley and me."
He kissed your forehead as you cried. "You're family. I'll always do what I can." When the doors slid open, you realized you were on your floor. Maverick wrapped his arms around your shoulders, guiding you along to your office. Your fingers were shaking as you unlocked the door. "I'll text Bradley and see if he can stop by," he said, following you inside where you sank into your desk chair with your hands on your belly.
"Is she out?" you whispered, completely exhausted as you took deep breaths. "Is Indigo out of the Navy?"
Maverick sighed and tucked his phone away again. "That's up to the admirals in Texas, but if I had to wager a guess... probably."
It seemed wild to you that she would risk it all for something as trivial as a hookup, but then again, Bradley always was irresistible to you. At one point, you were willing to risk everything you'd worked toward since your years at the Naval Academy to be with him. You'd even announced to the entire control room on an aircraft carrier that he was the man for you. But he was yours. He was Rose's. He was the baby's. Indigo wasn't going to get away with even testing the waters.
You weren't sure how long you'd been sitting there reflecting on things with Mav perched on the edge of your desk, but it must have been several minutes. When you heard heavy footfalls in the hallway, you looked at your open doorway as your husband came rushing inside.
"Are you okay?" he asked, panting and sweaty. He barely looked at Maverick before dropping to his knees next to your chair. "Did she hurt you?"
"Jeez, Mav," you murmured as the other man headed for the door. "What did you tell him?" you asked, referring to the text he'd sent to Bradley.
"I told him you needed him," Maverick replied with a chuckle before closing the door on his way out.
"I swear to God," Bradley growled, focused on your face. "If she hurt you-"
"She didn't," you promised, cupping his cheek. "I promise we're just fine."
He was still everything you wanted. Almost two years married, and Bradley was worth every bit of this trouble. His lips found your belly through your ugly tent, kissing along until his cheek came to rest there. "That's good," he rasped as your fingers combed through his hair. "Hopefully they'll take my complaints against her seriously. I can barely stand coming to work knowing she's giving you a hard time."
"She's out, Bradley." He flashed his brown eyes up to your face. "Maverick is sending her back to Texas where they'll decide what happens to her."
He gave you a satisfied groan as he nuzzled your belly, kissing you a million times. Then his head came to rest in your lap, and you could feel the tension slowly release from his body for the first time in months as you held onto him.
"Just let me stay here with you for a while. Okay, Baby Girl?"
--------------------------
Have fun in Texas, Indigo! Nobody is going to miss you. I feel like BG should get to keep her Super Hornet out of principle. BUT, the most important part of the chapter is the fact that Bradley got to feel the baby! ALSO, next chapter may be the last one in this series.
Summary: When Bradley and Jake catch their wives in the midst of a lie, Bradley wonders what made you think you couldn't be honest with him. He soon realizes you have a trick up your sleeve, one that makes his work day a lot more exciting.
Warnings: Fluff, smut, adult language, math as foreplay
Length: 3900 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. Banner by @thedroneranger
"You know what really sucks?" Bradley mused as he sat at a table for two in the cafeteria on base.
"What's that?" Jake asked in response, digging his fork into a bowl of pasta.
Bradley looked around the room at everyone else and sighed. "You and I are forced to socialize all the time now, because our wives are best friends."
He saw Jake on Saturday, and also last night at the bar, and again every damn day at work.
Jake shrugged as he took a bite of his lunch. "It's not that bad."
"Speak for yourself. I literally can't understand what Jessica sees in you."
As soon as he heard Jake's laugh, Bradley knew what was coming. "You're literally the last person who should be making comments like that. Your wife is so hot, it's absolutely unbelievable she is with you willingly. She had ten years to come to her senses."
Bradley smiled as he thought about you. "She missed me."
Jake was shaking his head. "She must have been with some seriously ugly guys or something in those ten years."
Bradley was laughing now as he said, "I'm telling you, she missed me as much as I missed her."
"Riiiight. I'm about to text her and ask for verification on that one."
Bradley poked at his salad and murmured, "Don't even bother. She's in some sort of math seminar with Dean Walters all day. Told me not to try reaching her unless it's an emergency."
"Are you sure?" Jake asked, giving him a funny look. "Jess said she had a department meeting with the dean today. For the science department."
Bradley rolled his eyes. "Yeah, of course I'm sure. I even packed her an extra snack. Unlike you, I actually listen to my wife when she talks. I'm sure you're wrong."
But Jake was already digging in the pocket of his flight suit for his phone, and when he unlocked it and slid it across the table, Bradley picked it up. He skimmed a text that Jessica sent just a few hours ago.
I love you! Don't forget, I'll be unreachable most of the day. Physics meeting with Dean Walters.
Bradley frowned. If this was true, then you lied to him. You never lied to him. He tried his best to let you know that you never had to do that. But now he remembered that you even went so far as to tell him you didn't need a ride home from campus today, and that actually seemed suspicious, too.
"Why do they want us to think they're busy all day?"
"It doesn't really make any sense," Jake said as he set his fork down. "Damn. Jess knows she can talk to me about anything."
"Yeah," Bradley grunted, "I don't like this shit." The uneasy feeling seemed to spread through his entire body as he stood. "We need to get going. Special class today, remember?"
"Fuck," Jake muttered under his breath, clearly as excited about the guest lecturer as Bradley was. Sitting in the classroom for a few hours was usually always tedious compared to flying, but the lectures that Cyclone had been adding to their schedules randomly over the past few months were worse than the most boring class Bradley ever took at the University of Virginia.
"Let's get this over with," he said, dropping his tray off and fighting the urge to text you just to see what you'd have to say. Now he was going to have to figure out a way to call you out about lying later. But it was still puzzling him as to why you and Jessica would both tell the same exact lie. What was the point of that? If you didn't want Bradley to bother you at work, that was all you needed to say. But it wasn't like he was annoying like Jake was; he could understand Jessica needing a break from her husband, but did you need one too?
He was still trying to figure out if there was something going wrong with his marriage when he walked into the classroom. Cyclone was standing at the front, hands on his hips, glaring at Bradley and Jake as they walked inside with two minutes to spare. The only seats left were both up in the front row, and Bradley groaned as he dropped down into one of them. The last guest speaker they had spit the entire time he talked, and the one before that spoke at full volume like she was teaching a room full of hundreds of people rather than the twenty four that were gathered.
"I regret not getting here early," Jake murmured, and Bradley nodded as he shifted in his seat and messed with the cuffs of the sleeves of his flight suit. He was really hung up on what you could possibly be doing today, and he knew that he wasn't going to be able to pay attention to this lecture topic at all. And that's when he noticed what was written on the white board behind Cyclone.
THE PHYSICS OF PROPULSION AND MATHEMATICAL FORMULATIONS IN SINGLE SEAT F/A-18 JETS
He groaned, because even the word mathematical made him think about you. This was about to be a long afternoon. Then Admiral Simpson cleared his throat, and Bradley forced his attention to the man in front of him.
"Welcome. Today's lecture topic is of the utmost importance regarding updates that will be made to your aircrafts this year. We will take a look at jet propulsion and the calculations specific to your F/A-18s before the new NATOPS is even released. We have two guest speakers who are professors from San Diego State University's math and physics departments, and they have graciously agreed to spend some time on this topic with us."
"No way," Bradley whispered, convinced it had to be you. He swiveled around in his seat so fast, he thought he might have broken it as he hung over the arm into the aisle when the classroom door opened. He could hear her high heels on the floor before he realized he was looking at Jessica enter the room, but then his heart skipped around in his chest just like the first time he saw you over ten years ago at his fraternity house. You looked fucking hot as sin, strolling in behind Jake's wife with a folder in your hand and a smirk on your red lips. Your eyes found his immediately as he sat there gaping at you while you made your way to the front of the room, but other than a little nod in his direction, you gave him nothing.
"Holy shit," Jake hissed next to him as Bradley nodded in agreement, his eyes glued on your body as he heard Cyclone introduce you and Dr. Jessica Reed by name. You gave the room at large a little wave, but your eyes flicked him, and Bradley let out the breath he had apparently been holding as he relaxed into his seat. So this must have been why you tried to make it seem like you were extremely busy today. Maybe you and Jessica didn't want him and Jake to catch on to the fact that you'd be presenting their class.
As Jessica started talking, he took in every inch of your appearance. You knew exactly what you were doing to him, and you were doing it very well. Bradley was proficient at calculus, having attended many of your college level math lectures. Sometimes he surprised you, but sometimes you knew ahead of time that he planned on being there. It didn't hurt that the lectures he attended usually ended with sex or a blowjob for him. Somehow math had turned into a form of foreplay for the two of you, and Bradley couldn't get enough. You'd praise him when he was able to solve a difficult problem, and the rewards were always sexy.
He was used to seeing you like this when he visited San Diego State University, but getting to witness your brilliance on the Naval base was already so exciting. Right now, he was already having a difficult time sitting still as he grew hard at the sound of your voice.
"The calculations related to your Super Hornets are so precise, we'll just take a look at a handful of examples to give you an idea of what we mean," you said, opening up your folder on the table as Bradley ran his sweaty palms on his flight suit. You were only a few feet away from him. He could smell your shampoo. He could count the little silver buttons on the side of your skirt. He had to bite his lip as you turned toward the white board and uncapped a marker as you said, "Please, let me know if I'm going too fast."
He could pick your writing out easily, but there was something about the way you always chose the letter B for your variables when he was watching. Your smooth penmanship started to fill the board as you talked your way through the problem, but Bradley could barely take his eyes off your ass. He turned around briefly to make sure nobody else had the same idea he did, but it was hard to tell. The younger guys looked a lot more enthusiastic than they usually did, and he might have to pound some sense into them later. Didn't they know you were his fucking wife?
But maybe they didn't. You kept your name the same when you got married. So did Jessica for that matter. Now Bradley sat a little taller in his seat as he realized he was married to one of the two extremely hot PhDs who all the other men in the room were drooling over.
"Does that make sense?" you asked, turning back to face them with a satisfied look on your face. "Dr. Reed can take over explaining the actual physics of the aircraft propulsion, and then I'll jump back in with the next calculation."
Bradley smiled at you while Jessica started talking again, and he could tell you were trying not to look at him as your lips curled into a grin. God, you were just fucking perfect. Smart and silly and sexy. And the two of you had so much history together, he could practically read the thoughts on your face.
"Did they dress like this on purpose?" Jake croaked softly.
"I know mine did," Bradley whispered. Your little tweed skirt and loafers screamed east coast academic. It looked as good on you as his tie dye shirt always did. It was just as sexy as lingerie. It was almost pornographic to him at this point. But today you had them paired with a blazer and a bodysuit. A bodysuit. He loved those things with the little snaps that held them closed as they hugged your curves. He was almost certain you'd skipped a bra. He couldn't wait to find out for sure.
Jessica was still talking about jet propulsion. Bradley would ask you to explain it to him later if it was actually important. Right now, you were slowly buttoning and then unbuttoning your blazer over and over again while you alternated between consulting your notes and stealing glances at Bradley. He was too warm as he watched your fingers work, and your eyes caught his as he leaned forward in his seat.
"Hey, Sugar," he mouthed, and your gaze dropped back to your folder as you bit your lip and smiled. He was ready to go home. Take you to bed. Or maybe get a private lecture in your home office. Or maybe drive all the way to the college and visit one of the library study rooms. You made everything so exciting, he wanted all of it.
When Jessica handed the lecture back over to you, Bradley squirmed in his seat as you wrote another calculation on the board. Jake was really no better in the seat next to him, and he realized the two of them must look like idiots at the moment. But you were making a subtle math joke that he understood, and when you glanced over your shoulder, your engagement ring sparkled under the fluorescent light.
"Now this is how the updates will actually make your aircrafts more fuel efficient," you said as you easily worked through a calculation that looked so complicated, Isaac Newton wouldn't have been able to solve it. Bradley's cock was still half hard, and he wasn't exactly sure how he was going to be able to stand up after this. But then you really threw him for a loop when you casually added the equation from your tattoo into the middle of the mess of mathematics on the white board. Now the only thing he could think about was your tits. Or rather, him running his lips along your math titty tattoo.
Bradley wasn't going to be able to sit still for much longer, but you turned around and asked, "Does anyone have any questions?"
He had to sit there and listen to several of the other guys ask you the most idiotic questions just so they could have your attention. Then Bradley raised his hand and waited until you pointed at him and said, "Lieutenant Bradshaw?" with an amused look on your face. "You have a question?"
"Yeah," he said, voice raspy. "I do, professor. If the variable B is directly related to propulsion, then how is that going to affect my thrust?"
He kept a straight face while you fought to do the same. You cleared your throat, took a step in his direction, and said, "You're going to need to have some additional thrust, Lieutenant."
Bradley nodded and gave you a thoughtful look. "Hmmm, that's what I thought. And it looks like a very complicated calculation."
You stood there in front of everyone in your little tweed skirt and the diamond ring he gave you and said, "If you'd like a more thorough explanation, I wouldn't mind spending a few minutes with you afterwards, Lieutenant."
As he leaned back in his seat, he told you, "I look forward to it."
So Bradley listened to Jessica while you occasionally interjected, and he kept his eyes on your face as his excitement started to build even more. When the afternoon lecture was finally over, he and Jake both stayed in their seats while Cyclone shook hands with the two of you.
"How long do you think they've been planning this?" Jake whispered, his voice hoarse.
"Not sure," Bradley replied as you collected your notes into your folder. "But I intend to find out." He was impressed as hell that you managed to pull this off without him noticing, but his skin was tingling with need. He desperately wanted to get his hands on you after you worked him up with all of the intellectual teasing.
As soon as Cyclone dismissed everyone, Jake was on his feet, dragging Jessica out of the classroom, but Bradley didn't move an inch in his seat. His cock was hard, and you were running your hand along your tweed covered hip as you smiled at him. But then he had to endure one of the younger aviators who was new to Top Gun trying to chat you up when he should have just left the classroom with the others. When you turned to face him instead, annoyance washed through Bradley's veins.
"Uh, hi, uh I actually studied mathematics at the Naval Academy, and I graduated three years ago, and uh, I was just wondering if you would want to get a drink with me sometime and talk more about, um, some of the topics you covered about propulsion and thrust-"
"Fuck off, man," Bradley barked. "She's wearing goddamn wedding rings. And she's not interested."
Your hand slipped over your lips as you laughed silently while the younger man looked at Bradley in shock. "Oh. Right. Okay," he muttered before hightailing it from the now nearly empty classroom.
"That wasn't very nice," you said, fighting against a smile. "He seemed really sweet. I was going to let him shoot his shot."
Bradley stood with a soft groan, his erection pressing against the zipper of his flight suit. "I was promised a private tutorial session, Dr. Sugar. I'm not about to let a twenty-something year old take up any of my time."
Without hesitation, you walked over to him and started to slowly unzip his flight suit. "Hate to break it to you, Beer Boy, but you were a twenty-something year old when I fell in love with you."
You ran your fingers along his undershirt, and Bradley glanced at the open classroom door as he whispered, "I hope you know you're not leaving this room until you're full of my cum."
"Lieutenant Bradshaw!" you gasped, eyes wide and surprised. But your hand was dipping lower to his abs, and he could tell you were as turned on as he was. "This is a tutoring session!"
Bradley wrapped his hand around your wrist and gently led you toward the door which he immediately closed. "I want to know how the hell you managed to pull this off. I had no idea you and Jessica were going to be teaching a class for the Navy."
"We've been working on our lesson plan for weeks," you said with a smirk as Bradley placed both of your palms on the door and flipped the light switch off. In the dimly lit room, you whispered, "We wanted it to be a surprise."
Bradley stood behind you, facing the door and kissed your neck above your unbuttoned blazer. "And here I thought you lied to me about your plans because you needed a break from me."
You moaned softly as his nose traced the shell of your ear. "Oh, please. It's not like you're annoying like Jake. I don't need a break from you, Beer Boy."
"Hmm, then what do you need from me?" he asked softly, letting one hand slide up your bodysuit while he confirmed that you were not wearing a bra. Your nipples were tight peaks as he stroked them through the fabric with one big hand, and you bumped your ass back against his erection.
"I need you to tell me what you know about thrust, Lieutenant," you stated in your teacher voice which made him grind against you.
"I know you like it when I give you a little thrust," he grunted, guiding your tweed skirt up your thighs as you gasped.
"Is this a good idea?" you asked, still pressing your body back against his. "Should we wait until we get home?"
"Can't," he growled, yanking your skirt up over your ass and wrapping his hands around your hips as he looked down at the perfect view. "You got me too worked up. You know what your lectures do to me. And this time it was on my home turf."
Your hands were still planted on the door as you glanced at him over your shoulder. "Almost like I'm in the Navy now. Lieutenant Sugar? Should I get a uniform?"
"Oh, fuck. You know I couldn't handle that. Besides, I'm really partial to your tweed." He was running his knuckles down your rear end as he whispered, "Please, let me fuck you. I'll be quick, Baby."
His fingers were already at the snaps on your bodysuit that hid your pussy from his touch when you said, "Do it."
With a flick of his wrist, the snaps sprung free, and he ran his finger along your slit. Your back arched as he carefully pulled his cock free from his unzipped flight suit and underwear, and then he was guiding you to your tiptoes as he slipped himself inside you.
Bradley wrapped one hand around your waist and braced the door closed with the other as he buried himself deep inside you. Your soft gasp sounded beautiful as he sucked on your neck and gave you a few deep strokes. When he started to go faster, your fingers curled against the door as you whined his name, and he asked, "How's my thrust?"
Your head tipped back against his shoulder as you whispered, "You're just about there. Maybe a little harder."
Always wanting to be your top student, he did exactly as you told him and picked up the pace, letting himself slam against your ass. Your tight pussy felt so fucking good, and normally he'd draw this out as long as possible, but not today. He let your grip on him take over all of his senses, and soon he was grunting next to your ear, lips parted as he fucked you up against the door in a classroom at Top Gun.
"This is filthy as hell," he muttered, jerking his hips in an uneven rhythm. "Fucking my perfect wife on base. During work hours."
"Beer Boy," you gasped when he slammed deep and held himself there. He did it again, loving the sound of his body meeting yours so intimately. A third time, and the pull along his spine as you moaned was too much. You had complete control over him.
Bradley gave it to you hard until he was panting. He let himself come as you turned and looked back at him, licking those sinful lips. "Jesus, fuck, holy shit," he groaned before kissing your lips softly as he gave you a few more thrusts before pulling himself free.
He was still a little hard as he tucked himself back into his flight suit and zipped it up again. When he went to fix your bodysuit, he ended up with his fingers coated in your arousal mixed with his cum as he did the snaps once again.
"Good as new," he murmured as you tugged your skirt down and turned to face him. He kissed you again before he said, "We should get out of here."
You nodded and collected your folder before pulling the door open and strolling casually out into the hallway like you didn't have his sticky cum rubbing against your inner thighs. "Now that you're all squared away with your thrust variable," you told him as he licked his fingers clean, enjoying the way the two of you tasted together, "you'll be even faster, Lieutenant."
Bradley snickered as you and he rounded the corner. "I hope you mean in the air. Quickies aren't really my thing, unless we're in a library study room or apparently an empty Naval classroom."
"There you are, professor." Cyclone was trying to flag you down, and Bradley watched you stumble as you headed off in his direction. He wasn't even sure if Admiral Simpson knew you and he were married, but the other man looked overjoyed as he said, "I've already been getting wonderful feedback about you and Dr. Reed, and I'm hoping you'll both agree to come back next month for another lecture on a different topic."
Bradley groaned and just kept walking. He would wait for you in the parking lot where he'd have a moment to himself to collect his thoughts. More sexy tweed and his hot wife in the classroom? Another lecture topic? Hours of mathematical foreplay that nobody else seemed to pick up on? Quickies were about to become his thing.
------------------------------
I missed Beer Boy and Sugar SO MUCH! She's such a queen, she literally just has to exist to make him lose his mind. But she knows what she did here. She knows. Thanks for reading!
Summary: Bradley works out plans for an anniversary trip, only stopping to enjoy some Halloween candy and a little milk. Everything is wonderful at home, but when you're at work, you notice Indigo in closer proximity that you'd prefer.
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.
Bradley woke up on Sunday to his phone telling him that it was November. The month of his wedding anniversary. Almost two years married to you. He smiled as you continued to sleep soundly, sprawled halfway on top of him, drooling on his shoulder. This is how he wanted to wake up every day for the rest of his life.
Rose hadn't made a peep yet, and he wanted to let you sleep as long as possible after trick-or-treating last evening. The three, well really four, of you had traipsed all over the neighborhood, collecting candy which Bradley had eaten half of while rubbing your feet last night. His stomach was currently gurgling softly, but he wasn't going to move an inch until one of his girls woke up.
In the meantime, he used his free hand to continue his search for the perfect anniversary trip on his phone. He soon had it narrowed down to two options, but he wanted you to pick. He'd ask you when you woke up. He was just ordering a case of non-alcoholic pink champagne and some hot sauce when he felt your arm tighten around his waist.
"Roo," you moaned, arching your back before looking up at him. "What time is it?"
"Almost eight," he whispered, kissing the tip of your nose as you snuggled against him again. He tossed his phone aside in favor of letting his hand rest on your bump, desperate to feel his younger daughter.
"Rose isn't up yet?" you murmured, yawning.
"Not yet," he confirmed as you pulled up his old shirt you fell asleep in, giving him better access to your belly. "Is Nugget Part Deux moving around?"
You hummed softly as he caressed your skin, tracing a line down to your dainty rooster tattoo. "She's a little squirmy. She'll wake up more once I start moving." You yawned again. "Halloween must have wiped Rose out. She had a big night. But my boobs are starting to ache."
Bradley watched you continue to pull the shirt up over your body until your breasts were on full display. He bit his lip, whimpering softly at the sight of your milk beading on your nipple. "There was a question I wanted to ask you, but suddenly I can no longer think straight, Sweetheart," he panted.
You reached for his hand, guiding it up to your heavy breasts, eyes closing as his fingers met your milk. "Do you want to take the edge off for me?"
Bradley's cock was at attention, raring to go as he nodded. Dizzy with need, he watched you pull the shirt off and toss it to the floor before propping yourself on your elbows. "Jesus, fuck. I've never seen anything so perfect in my life."
You giggled, alerting him to the fact that he'd spoken out loud. "Come on, Daddy. Help me out here."
Milk dribbled down to the underside of your tit, and Bradley dragged his tongue through it. You made a delicious little sound as he wrapped his lips around your nipple and sucked. Heaven. It tasted like heaven on his tongue. He was leaning on his hand which was planted next to your hip, and his cock rested on your thigh. You didn't stop him when he pressed his hips forward.
"Roo," you whined, running your fingers through his hair, and then gripping him at the roots when he sucked harder. "Oh!" You held him in place as he lapped up his reward. That's what this was. This was his personal treat for getting you pregnant again. A seemingly endless supply of breastmilk to enjoy. He knew it was for the babies, but you knew he loved it, too.
"God," he grunted, switching sides, rubbing his cock on your leg. "I'm fucking obsessed." His voice was muffled as he took your perfectly pert nipple in his mouth. You were tugging on his hair and simultaneously holding him closer as he tried to make sure he didn't suck you dry. But it was so hard to stop, especially when his balls tightened up.
He swallowed and released your breast, dragging his lips to yours. "I'm so fucking close, and you barely even touched me." You laughed against his kisses. "I'm not even fucking kidding." Bradley knew he was in no position to give you an orgasm until he got his out of the way, and he was almost shaking. "Can I give you a pretty creampie?" he begged.
You nodded, wrapping your hand around his cock which was grinding against your hip. "It's not like I'm not already pregnant."
"Fuck," he groaned, letting you guide him to your pussy. Bradley thrust deep as you settled against your pillow, spreading your legs further for him. You looked the part of the perfect woman, belly already swollen from how he couldn't stop fucking you full of his cum, coaxing him closer with your smile.
He came hard by the fifth thrust, hands braced on either side of your head as he panted your name, his hips fucking his cum deeper as he bucked against you. When you sweetly pushed his hair back from his forehead, everything in the whole world made sense to him.
"Oh, I know what I was going to ask you, Baby Girl."
You wrapped your legs around his hips. "Hmm?"
"Mountains or lake?"
"What?" you whispered as Bradley sat back to observe the mess he made.
"For our anniversary," he rasped. "I'm planning our trip. I just need you to answer one question, and I'll take care of the rest. Mountains or lake?" The first drop of his cum slid down to your asshole, and Bradley's brain shut down again as he stared. "Beautiful," he murmured, rubbing his mess back up to your clit.
He worked his fingers, listening to you babble about your anniversary. He let his body hover above yours, being none too gentle with his fingers when he realized that's what you needed at the moment. Your lips parted, head tipping back into the pillow, gasping until your voice was hoarse. As you eventually came around his fingers, you screamed the word, "Mountains!"
"That's all I needed to know," Bradley whispered, kissing your neck as Rose started crying in her nursery. "I'll get cleaned up and play with Rosie until you're ready to feed her. Take your time."
You waved your hand in the air, nodding wordlessly as Bradley kissed your forehead and climbed out of bed with a smile on his face.
---------------------------
The weekend had been luxurious. There was no other way to describe it. Sex and Halloween candy and Bradley cooking dinner. A beach walk with Rose and Tramp. A FaceTime call with your parents. It was perfect. You slept so soundly on Sunday night, Bradley had to wake you as your alarm blared for work on Monday morning.
"Oh, God," you groaned, reaching for your glasses while the baby kicked and Rose fussed down the hallway. You almost wet yourself on the way to the bathroom while Bradley went to hold Rose until you were ready for her. Your belly was tender, and you couldn't control your bladder. It was amazing Bradley couldn't seem to get enough of you, but you believed him. Because he'd been showing you.
Once you got yourself mostly ready for the day, you hustled to the nursery to find your husband holding your daughter. Bradley was wearing his gray sweatpants, and his hair was an absolute mess. His voice was still a little raspy from sleep as he snuggled Rose to his chest and bounced her around the room while she whined.
"Mommy's coming, Nugget. Relax. I miss her, too, but she'll be here in a minute." When you walked in, Bradley bounced her over to the chair so you could feed her. "Here's Mommy." He kissed her fuzzy head of hair before handing her over.
When you sat back in the chair, Bradley groaned, easing himself down to the floor at your feet. "What are you doing?" you asked, his arm snaking around your calf as Rose latched onto you to eat.
He kissed your bare leg; your uniform was the last thing you needed before you were ready for work. "Just want to sit here with you for a minute."
He went quiet with his cheek pressed to the side of your knee, and occasionally you ran your fingers through his hair. "I don't want to go to work," he mumbled. "This weekend was so nice."
"It was perfect," you agreed. "But your students need you there to instruct them."
Bradley shook his head, his mustache rough on your skin. "I don't know if I'm even doing a good job, Sweetheart. I don't think I am."
Oh, you hated Indigo. Hated the very thought of her. You hated that she wanted to sleep with Bradley. You hated that she made your husband feel this way. You hated that she was still lurking around North Island.
You held Rose to your chest and reached down to take Bradley's chin in your palm. His brown eyes were vulnerable. "You're a Top Gun pilot, Bradley. You're the best. Nobody else is going to be able to train younger pilots any better than you can. Now go make me breakfast and put your uniform on."
With another groan, Bradley stood, but he looked a little happier. "Whatever you say, Baby Girl," he whispered, kissing your forehead.
Now, you had your own conundrum to deal with. Normal looking yet uncomfortable uniform? Or comfy maternity tent? There was an obvious answer. You knew what it was. Your body was crying out for it. The tent was calling your name. But you couldn't. You just couldn't do it. Squeezing into your pants was a chore. So was tucking in your shirt. But you did it.
"I guess I'll just stand all day," you muttered to yourself as you ate the avocado toast and hot sauce Bradley left on the counter while he got Rose dressed. The waistband of the pants bit into your side when you tried to bend. This was probably the last day without the tent.
Somehow you managed to get into the passenger seat, and Bradley buckled you with extra care. "I'll drop Rose at the nursery," he said while he drove. "You can go ahead to your lab." He wanted an excuse to make this weekend last a little longer, so you let him leave you off at the door.
"I love you, Roo," you promised. "Love you, Rose," you told your daughter as she tried to chew on her foot. As soon as they pulled away to park, you saw Cam and Maria heading your way, so you waited.
"Oh my god, you're huge now," Cam gasped. "I haven't seen you in like a week, and you're enormous."
Maria shoved him as he reached out to touch your belly. "She is not!"
"Damn," he whispered. "What are you due? January?"
"April first!" you whined miserably, tipping your head back. "I know I'm huge."
"You aren't!" Maria argued. "You look adorable!"
"Your tits look phenomenal," Cam added, and you glared at him until he held the door open for you. "What? Lieutenant Commander Mustache is all over that shit. I just know it."
"Okay, you're probably right about that," Maria said.
Your entire body warmed as your friends reminded you of what you should have never forgotten. They didn't know about Indigo, and now wasn't the time to have a discussion.
"Let's grab lunch one day this week," Cam said as the three of you rode up the elevator.
"Sounds good," you promised, waving goodbye to them when you turned right to head to your office. But when your door came into view, you froze. Even from behind, you knew it was her, pacing back and forth like she was waiting for you.
This was insane. You had nothing to be afraid of. She couldn't hurt you. Bradley didn't want her. She'd been grounded. But you turned on your heel and rushed to your lab instead.
---------------------------------
Bradley had been having a wonderful day. He felt good about his class, and he got to see you at lunch. When you had to pop the button on your pants in order to sit comfortably, he threatened to hide your uniform if you didn't wear maternity khakis tomorrow. But other than that, it was smooth sailing. Until the end of the day when he stopped in the deserted rec room for some stale coffee.
With his cup in hand, Bradley walked past the couches just as the door swung open. Indigo strolled in like she was on a mission, and his stomach lurched as his steps came to a stop.
"Can I help you?" he asked. A slightly terrifying little smile appeared on her lips.
"I don't know, can you?" she asked, voice dripping with innocence. "Or are you still too scared to be alone with me?"
Truthfully, he kind of was, but he'd never admit that. Besides, you had no reason to doubt him now, so he simply stood there and sipped his coffee before clearing his throat. "Lieutenant Jeffries, it's not my responsibility to help you find ways to entertain yourself while you're grounded," he told her smoothly, and her bright blue eyes narrowed.
"I'll just sit in here for the rest of the afternoon. Lieutenants Trace and Seresin kicked me out earlier, claiming I shouldn't have access to the aviators' rec room if I'm not currently flying." Bradley had to fight hard not to laugh, but she kept going. "But both of their jets are in the air now, so nobody is going to stop me."
"Maybe you should listen to what your superior officers tell you," Bradley said, breezing past her toward the door.
Her sharp laughter cut into him. "Maybe you'll heed your own words when Maverick gets back and immediately ends my grounding."
Bradley hated how it always felt like she was gaining the upper hand. "Maybe you should call him Captain Mitchell," he tossed over his shoulder. "Call signs are for aviators to use, Lieutenant Jeffries."
The sound of disgust she made boosted his mood as he plowed through the door. He didn't want to linger in her presence for longer than was absolutely necessary. His quiet office was calling his name anyway. So was the mound of paperwork he needed to complete.
The hallways in his building were nearly deserted, so it came as a surprise when you were waiting by his door. "Sweetheart," he called out, jogging as quickly as he could with his coffee. He'd just been with you less than three hours ago. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," you promised, tilting your perfect face up to look at him. "You missed me earlier this morning, and now I was missing you."
Bradley unlocked his door and led you inside. He spent the last forty-five minutes of his work day with you snuggled against him on his lap. His lips occasionally brushed your hair while he got through his paperwork with your arms wrapped around him.
---------------------------------
You bumped into Indigo randomly all week long. With nothing better to do, it seemed as though she made it her new mission to follow you around base more often than not. You'd taken to walking with Cat when you could, and one day Jake accompanied you to lunch. Honestly, you were a little surprised Indigo hadn't simply moved on to another hot officer older than her. Jake would have been a good candidate, which would have been hilarious. Cat would shred Indigo to bits without a second thought.
Cat was busy conducting her aircraft investigation and collecting data from Indigo's Super Hornet which left you conveniently in the lab most of the time. But when Bickel asked you to meet with a mechanic to talk about a new installation technique for a communications component, you found yourself in the busy hangar in your maternity tent.
If the mechanic thought you looked ridiculous, he didn't say a word about it. You'd decided that being comfortable was better than having marks on your sides from your regular pants when you got undressed after work. Now you had no problem breezing through your conversation and leaving the engine parts in the very capable hands of the Top Gun mechanic crew.
You headed back out onto the tarmac, glancing at the tower and Bradley's building. The November sun was glorious. It was hard to miss the east coast on a day like this when the weather in San Diego was pure perfection. But pausing to close your eyes and turn your face to the sky was a mistake.
"Hello, Lieutenant Commander." That voice gave you a chill before you even opened your eyes to see Indigo heading your way. Her face was expressionless, but her tone was cold as she stomped to a stop in front of you. "I would say it's nice to see you, but that would be a lie."
You pressed your lips together, swallowing hard as her blue eyes flashed with something that made your skin crawl. She was so beautiful and so angry, and you hated her so much. "For someone who doesn't want to see me, you sure have been following me around a lot this week," you bit back before considering your words.
"Don't flatter yourself," she replied smoothly. "The last thing I want to look at is your ridiculous uniform."
You loathed her. But now you could translate her words to their true meaning. She was devastatingly jealous of you. A smile curled along your lips as you cradled your belly. Goading her wasn't your best move, but you couldn't stop yourself. "I think I'll just go hang out in the aviators' rec room with my husband and the others. Isn't it funny that I've never piloted an aircraft, but I've also never been kicked out of their lounge?"
She ground her teeth together as you tried not to smile. When Jake told you what he and Nat had done, you'd been in stitches.
"I know you think you're hot shit around here," she snarled, prompting you to take a step back. And that's when she pounced. "But you don't have the power to ground me indefinitely."
"Actually, I do," you replied loudly, fingers curling into fists. "Your aircraft is under my jurisdiction. I'm in charge of the quality of the comms network and components. I am in control of things no matter how much you want to be. And the same goes for my husband."
You were immediately met with silence as her cheeks burned red, clashing with the color of her eyes. You couldn't remember the last time someone looked like they wanted to hit you. As long as she went for your face and not your belly, you'd welcome it. Anything to get her the fuck away from you and your friends and your family.
"As soon as Maverick comes back, you'll be history," she threatened, bumping your shoulder as she stormed away.
------------------------------
Roo loves milk with his candy. And Indigo has a lot of nerve talking to BG that way. Mav is practically family! Maybe I'll let Indigo find out exactly what happens when Mav gets back.
Rooster and his teammates are frequent patrons at your aunt's bar, the Hard Deck, while they're training for a dangerous mission. When he asks you out on a date, the two of you jokingly agree to keep it friendly, never cross certain lines…but Rooster has other ideas.
"Do you ever sleep?"
You don't look up from the glass you're polishing, but your mouth twitches into a faint smile...the same way it always does when he shows up at the Hard Deck this early.
"We're not open for, like, another few hours," you tell Rooster, as if he doesn't know that already. You can hear him approaching the bar from behind, his footsteps heavy on the hardwood floor, making his way through the quiet, mostly-empty room.
You're not supposed to let people in before hours, technically. Especially not good-looking naval aviators who will inevitably distract you a little more than you'd like to admit, but...
"Then what are you doing here?" he asks.
You look up at him. He's taken off his aviators, his dark eyes watching you rather intently. His posture is casual, his tall frame leaning against the counter.
You set down the glass you've been polishing and reach for another one, returning your attention to your task. "Someone has to make sure everything's ready before we open."
He gives you a slow, easy smile. "Mind if I help?"
"Help?"
"Yeah." He looks around the bar as if trying to figure out where to start. "What do you need me to do?"
"Aren't you tired from training?"
"I'm fine," he says, not convincing you in the slightest. "Seriously. What do you need?"
You set down the glass. A small part of you can't resist the chance to keep him around longer.
"I'll feel bad if I make you work," it sounds like you're reasoning with yourself.
Rooster grins. "Then don't make me work. It's my idea."
"My aunt will kill me if she catches you in here, especially if you're working."
"She won't know."
Well...there are some heavy crates that need to be brought in from the storage room, bottles of alcohol that need to be placed on the shelves, tables that need to be wiped down...
The heavy ones. Oh, the heavy ones are tempting.
"You're a menace," you tell him, though it comes out sounding more like a compliment than an insult. It's hard to offend him anyway, you've found; he seems to take everything you say in stride, regardless of whether you mean it or not.
He smiles at you, unfazed. "Is that a yes?"
"What are you doing here so early anyway? You and your team don't usually show up until well after dark."
"Do I need a reason?"
"It's early. You can't be that bored already."
"Maybe I just wanted to see you."
Boy, is he good.
Not falling for it is a challenge every time. You wonder if Rooster knows that, if he gets a kick out of it the way Hangman does when he flirts with every pretty girl who crosses his path. The difference is, Hangman's flirting is playful, an intentional provocation that you can take as a compliment or blow off with a laugh.
Rooster's flirting is different. It's always delivered in that same deep, mellow voice of his, a warm baritone that reminds you of dark whiskey on a cold night, and he has a way of saying things that makes you think he might actually mean them.
"...you don't have to sweet-talk me," you tell him. "I already let you in."
He grins at you. "Who says I'm sweet-talking?"
You turn back to your task of polishing glasses so he won't see the smile you can't contain. That's it, you think. New rule: no more letting him in early. He's too distracting.
"Am I being kicked out?" Rooster asks, amused.
"Yes."
"Really?"
You try not to laugh. "No. But you really don't have to help."
He straightens up from the bar and stretches his arms, yawning. "Where's Penny? Did she leave you here to do all this by yourself?"
"Visiting her mother with Amelia. She'll be back later. I offered to cover while she's gone," maybe out of boredom or some desperation for human contact, but it sounded like a good idea at the time, you just didn't realize it would involve so much work. "The other waitresses will be here, um, soon, I guess, once it gets closer to opening time."
You don't want to admit you're a little intimidated by the responsibility. You've only been working at the Hard Deck for a few months now, having moved here from halfway across the country, and most of that time has been spent behind the bar or taking orders on your notepad, doing the tasks Penny asked you to do, and nothing more. Now that she's away for a few days, you're starting to feel a little overwhelmed with the amount of work that needs to be done.
"You look tired," Rooster observes.
"Thanks."
"I mean it in a good way."
"It doesn't sound good."
"You always look nice," he clarifies, to your mild embarrassment and surprise. "I just mean you seem like you could use some help."
You don't meet his gaze because, no, you're not going to be distracted by those brown eyes again, it's bad enough already. "I...okay. The delivery truck is supposed to arrive soon, so...there are a lot of crates that need to be brought inside. And some in the storage room that I need to bring here to the bar. Some of them are really heavy. I'm not even sure how Penny brings them in by herself."
"Let me take care of that for you."
Let me take care of that for you, says he, like it's no big deal.
"There are some boxes of liquor that need to be taken out of the storage room and brought in here, too," you continue, despite your better judgment, still watching him out of the corner of your eye.
He gives you another slow smile. "Okay. Where is this storage room?"
"There's a door behind the bar. To the right. I'll help you carry them."
"You don't have to."
"I'll show you where they are. And it's gonna be easier if there are two of us."
He looks at you with a knowing smile. "Is that why you want to come along? So you can make sure I don't get distracted and break anything?"
"Exactly."
"I think you're just making excuses to spend time with me."
Does he really have to keep looking at you like that?
"Rooster," you say, as firmly as you can manage.
"Yes?" It doesn't seem to bother him that you're trying to scold him. In fact, you think he's enjoying it.
You walk backwards behind the bar to lead him toward the storage room, pausing when you reach the door. You let out a sigh. "You're going to be the death of me, you know that?"
"Really?" He grins at you, putting his hands in his pockets. "I thought I was being very nice."
"Is that what you call it?"
"Yeah."
"Crates," you say, gesturing to the storage room and changing the subject before he can talk his way into any more compliments. "In there, by the wall. The smaller boxes on the shelves are for the bar. We'll bring them in after we move the big crates. The ones with the heavy bottles inside."
Rooster pauses. "'We'?"
"I can't let you carry all of those by yourself. They're heavy."
"That's cute. But I can handle it."
"No. Not by yourself."
He gives you a confident grin. "Watch me."
The moment he disappears into the storage room, you start to regret saying anything at all. You're not entirely sure what possessed you to let him help you with this; he must have gotten to your head. There are plenty of things you could be doing right now while he's out of sight, and yet...you decide to stand there in the doorway, watching him take inventory of the room, squinting in the dim light and trying to decide where to start.
It's not like you can just leave him to it. It would be too embarrassing if he hurt himself and you did nothing. The best way to keep an eye on him is to stay close by.
Right?
Rooster lets out a groan as he heaves one of the large crates up off the floor. "You weren't kidding," he mutters. "These are heavy."
"Let me—"
"I've got it."
He doesn't let you help him. He lifts the crate off the ground with another grunt, and you're distracted for a moment by the sight of his muscular arms flexing under the strain, the tight white t-shirt he's wearing pulled even tighter across his chest, the—
"Y/N?"
"Hm?" You look up quickly. "What?"
He grins at you. "Want to open the door for me?"
Fuck, you think, not for the first time that day, stepping out of the way to let him through.
You grab a smaller crate for yourself. It's not as heavy as the one Rooster is carrying, but you still strain a little under the weight of it, and Rooster still gives you a disapproving look when he notices.
"I told you," he says, slightly out of breath from his own effort, "you don't have to help."
"It's literally my job to help," you mutter. "Actually, it's my job to carry them all myself, so—"
"I got it."
"Yeah, but I can—"
"You can relax," he tells you, letting out a small groan as he heaves the crate up a little higher. "And go back to what you were doing."
It would be easier to protest if he didn't make it look so effortless. He carries the crate out of the storage room and sets it on the floor near the bar with a thud, barely breaking a sweat.
Your fingers dig into the rough edges of your own crate, which seems ten times heavier all of a sudden. You set it down next to his, more carefully than he did, glancing over at him to see if he noticed.
He looks down at the crate you just set on the floor, then over at you with barely concealed amusement. "Not bad," he says. "You could handle that all by yourself?"
"Shut up."
"No, really." He's not trying to hide his smile anymore. "Impressive."
The laugh you let out is entirely involuntary, equal parts embarrassed and amused. "Okay, fine, I get it," you say. "You're strong. You go get the rest of them while I finish wiping down the tables."
"Yes, ma'am."
"Thank you."
"Any time."
It's fine, you tell yourself as he heads back into the storage room. Rooster being in here won't distract you. It's fine. Everything is fine.
The delivery truck arrives shortly after Rooster has brought in the last of the crates to the bar, so you spend the next hour opening the boxes and sorting the bottles, filling the shelves behind the bar with whiskey and rum and vodka, gin and tequila and other liquors...and totally not stealing glances at Rooster as he carries the crates from the truck into the storage room.
You've found a rhythm by the time he returns from the truck for the final time, wiping your hands on your apron as you watch him approach the bar.
"I think that's all of them," he says, letting out a groan as he stretches his arms above his head.
The nerve, you think, resisting the urge to stare. The absolute nerve.
"Thank you."
He lowers his arms. "I never said it was for free."
"What?"
Rooster leans forward and props his elbows on the bar, the same cocky grin from earlier playing at his lips. "There's a price for my help."
"A price?" you ask, still polishing the same glass you've been working on since he arrived. "And what's that?"
"...a drink."
Well, that's easy.
"A drink? You want me to pay you a drink?"
"Ah, no, no," he says with a laugh, waving his hand like the idea is ridiculous. "I want you to let me buy you a drink."
Oh.
"Oh."
"And something to eat, too," he adds, and by the time you recover from the initial shock of what he's suggesting, he's already standing up straight again. "What time do you get off work?"
"No."
"No?" He looks at you in surprise.
"I can't," but you're only barely resisting.
"You can."
"Rooster."
He frowns. "What?"
"I..." Why is this so hard? "I can't go out with you. It's—I can't."
"Why not?"
You feel tempted. Boy, are you tempted. You're smiling even as you shake your head, trying to focus on polishing the glass in your hands. "Because I actually...like you."
Rooster pauses, his smile returning. "You can't go out with me because you like me?"
"This heart," you tap your fingers on your chest, smiling still, "is off limits, okay? No pilots allowed."
The tables are clean and the bar is stocked and organized, but you need to do something else, anything else, if only to avoid Rooster's gaze. You slip the cloth you've been using into your apron pocket and look around for another task. There must be something you missed. Anything.
Tables, yeah. You can wipe down the tables again.
"Okay," he says slowly, clearly not convinced, "so let me get this straight: You like me, therefore you're not allowed to go out with me?"
You nod. "Exactly."
"Are you kidding?"
You take the cloth out of your apron pocket again and glance around the bar, searching for any traces of dust on the tables or chairs that might need to be wiped down.
"Y/N?"
You've already gone over the tables once...
Rooster steps closer. "You know that makes no sense, right?"
You're not distracted by the sight of his hand sliding onto the countertop next to you. You're not distracted by the sudden proximity of him as he leans in closer. It's fine, it's not a problem, you can deal with this.
"So...you're saying you do want to go out with me," he says, sounding far too pleased with himself, "but you won't?"
He's so close. He smells good, like pine and leather. You glance over at him, realizing how little space there is between you now, and quickly look away.
"That's—I don't..."
"Because you like me."
"Shut up."
His gaze drops to your mouth. "Make me."
You swallow. Hard.
It takes a monumental amount of willpower to step away from him, to resist the temptation to touch him or get closer, but you manage. Barely. You make yourself focus on the task you've found for yourself, pretending that Rooster isn't standing behind you watching as you wipe down the tables a second time.
"I think we should go out," he says again, obviously not taking your silence for the no it's supposed to be. "There's a place downtown that I think you'd like."
You chuckle, which probably doesn't help matters, but...it's really hard to say no to him.
"Would I?"
He must have sensed weakness because he follows you around the bar as you continue your pointless cleaning. "Today is one of the last days we have off," he tells you. "Maverick has us in the air all day tomorrow, and most of the day after that. If we don't go out tonight, who knows when we'll have another chance...or how long it'll be before I see you again."
"Rooster..."
"Come on," he says, more gently this time. "One drink. Or maybe dinner. Nothing too fancy. I promise."
You pause and glance over at him. He really doesn't know when to quit. "But it's not a date."
"No. Totally not."
You don't like how much it sounds like he's laughing at you.
"Really?"
"Not even close," he says, like he's serious. "It's a totally not date between two friends."
He follows you, like a puppy, around the bar, until you pause again, thinking it over for what feels like the millionth time in the last few minutes. One drink, he said.
Not a date.
...just two friends hanging out.
No feelings involved.
You sigh, letting the cloth in your hand drop to the table, giving in to the inevitable. "Fine," you say, turning around to face him. "But it's not a date."
"No."
"Or a first date."
"Right."
"And it's just one drink."
"I swear."
"And we can't—we can't..." You can't help but notice the way he's looking at you, his brown eyes full of mischief, a hint of that playful smile on his lips again, and you're suddenly worried he might get the wrong idea about this whole thing. "No...you know."
His eyes linger on your mouth again before meeting your gaze with a sly smile. "No...what?"
"You know."
"I really don't."
"It's not a date."
He chuckles softly at your obvious distress, clearly enjoying this. "Okay, it's not a date."
"Exactly. So don't do anything you'd do if it was a date."
He steps closer, grinning, the space between you evaporating again. "And what is it," he asks in that deep voice of his, a low rumble that resonates somewhere in the pit of your stomach, "that you think I would do on a date?"
The table behind you feels like it's digging into your back.
"No kissing."
"Got it," he says, resting one hand on the table behind you, "no kissing."
"Or any other...date stuff."
"Like what?"
"Like..." You glance at his mouth.
Rooster smiles. "You want to make a list?"
You duck under his arm before he can do something that will get you in trouble. "I'll meet you after work," you tell him over your shoulder as you walk back toward the bar, desperate for some space before you lose your resolve altogether. "Just...stop talking. You're distracting me."
He turns and watches you, amused. "Okay. Pick you up at seven?"
You wonder if it's too late to back out of this, or if he's going to show up here at seven with that stupid smile of his and his ridiculous mustache and ruin everything anyway.
"You don't have to pick me up," you mutter, wiping your hands on your apron one more time, unable to hide your smile. "It's not a date, remember?"
