#bradley fic

[writing-until-i-drop]

Cold Mornings | Comfort Drabble wc: 396

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x reader

Your bedroom is a little cold in the morning and you don't want to get out of bed buuuuuut Bradley insists...

Warnings: None! It's just pure fluff

@closetspngirl read it and go back to work lol

“It’s time to get out of bed, sweetheart,” Bradley kissed your shoulder. Stretching, your foot slipped from beneath the comforter, hitting the cool air of your bedroom. You gave a little shriek, pulling your foot back so fast the bed shook a little.

“Absolutely not,” You turned, wrapping your arms around Bradley’s waist, reveling in his warmth. Your boyfriend chuckled, kissing your temple.

“I think someone’s a little chilly,” Bradley teased, reaching around you to start pulling down the comforter.

“Watch it, Bradshaw, or I start wearing long sleeves and sleep pants to bed.” He paused. Ever since Bradley had started staying the night, you had found yourself wearing less and less clothing to bed thanks to his need to run his calloused hands over your bare skin whenever he could. Not that you were complaining about having a hot pilot want you naked constantly but still.

“No need for that,” Bradley chuckled nervously, kissing your temple again. “I’ll be good, I promise.” He curled around you, running his hands over your body, keeping you warm. Bradley kissed your neck, presenting a very convincing argument for not wearing more clothes to bed, even if it did leave you freezing in the morning. “We do have to get up though.”

“Nooooo,” You whined, pulling the comforter over your head. 

“I’ve got you, sweetheart.” Bradley slipped out of bed, returning with clothes of his in each hand.

“What are you- Bradley!” You laughed as he dove under the comforter from the bottom of the bed, slipping a pair of sweats up your legs, planting a kiss on your stomach. He crawled up your body, kissing everywhere before his head popped out from the sheets. Your boyfriend looked so silly, grinning down at you, his hair messy. 

“Arms up, sweetheart. It’s time for the shirt.” Once you were dressed, Bradley distracted you with a kiss, slowly pulling away the blankets without you noticing until he pulled away. “I love you and I would love nothing more than to spend all day in bed with you but we have to get up.” 

“Fine,” You went to move but he held you in place, an expectant look on his face. “I love you too, baby.” 

“That’s more like it.” Bradley gave you one more sweet kiss before getting out of bed, holding out his hand to pull you up as well.

[ereardon]

Summary: After four years of marriage, you find out that your husband, Bradley Bradshaw, has cheated on you with your best friend. 

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Reader 

WC: 1.4K

Warnings: Cheating, slight smut, reference to pregnancy, alcohol. Sorry to all my Bradley girls this one is gonna hurt!

You woke up in a sweat, eyes flying open, hand stretching out to the other side of the bed. 

And where you had expected the warmth of your husband, instead you found the cold emptiness of sheets that hadn’t been laid on in days. 

You laid back, eyes brimming with tears. 

In the living room, only ten feet away, separated by a thin door, Bradley laid on the couch with his eyes focused on the spinning fan on the ceiling. He felt sick to his stomach. There was a knot that had buried itself deep into his stomach and wouldn’t unfurl, no matter what he did. Bring you sandwiches at work, flowers before dinner, kisses when you least expected it. He lived with doubt and fear riddled in his very bones. Every time your phone buzzed or you checked the screen, he felt every muscle in his body tense. And then you’d turn to him with the sweetest smile in the world. And his heart shattered into pieces again. 

You were the love of his life. And you were about to be the one that got away. 

***

It was a mistake. Or at least, that’s what Bradley told himself. The first time he saw her out, it had been an accident. He was at the mall, searching through Sephora and trying to find the lipstick you had sent him to buy. Bradley was too big for small aisles, and he knocked into someone, then went sputtering the other way into a display case of perfumes, brown eyes wide as he held his breath, waiting to hear bottles crash to the ground. Instead, a hand shot out, righting the triangular shaped bottle that was rocking and saving it from cascading to the ground. 

“Shit!” he muttered. 

June looked up, eyes wide. “Bradley?” 

He grinned. “Hey there.” He had known June as long as he had known you. The two of you were a packaged deal. She was there the first night the two of you met, on the other side of the bar, egging you on. She was standing on your other side of the altar as the two of you kissed in the drizzle that unexpectedly rainy Saturday in June. And here she was, saving Bradley’s ass in a Sephora. 

She cocked her head. “Y/N sent you on errands?” 

He nodded. “I’m on a quest for,” he paused, looking down at his phone, “Charlotte Tilbury Pillow Talk.” 

She smiled. “Follow me.” 

The Sephora trip turned into an impromptu lunch that parted with a friendly hug. When Bradley got home, you praised him for finding everything and even picking out a gift – a new perfume from Jo Malone – and he didn’t have the heart to tell you that June had chosen it.

A week later, when he saw her struggling with a case of seltzer water in the grocery store parking lot, he lifted it out of her arms with ease and she smiled at him in a way that made Bradley feel fuzzy around the edges. And so when she touched his arm he let his mind wander for a moment. How long had it been since you had looked at him like that? Like he was your savior. 

They went on like that, running into each other here and there. Del Mar was a small town. You and Bradley had chosen to buy your first house there to get out of San Diego, away from the crowds and the hustle. You liked quiet, a good book on a Friday night with a glass of wine and a blanket over your toes. It was Bradley who wanted more – more lights, more energy, more attention. 

So when you went out of town for work to New York, Bradley found himself nursing a beer at the local pub. And when June sat down to his right, it wasn’t long before they were five drinks deep and she was pulling him on the dance floor. 

And before Bradley knew it, his hand was wrapped around her neck and her eyes were screaming fuck me, and he leaned down and tasted her. 

They fucked in the car, fast and dirty, Bradley’s head hitting the window of the side door, his pants barely unbuckled as his cock slammed into her and she moaned beneath him like a porn star. He was drunk, and with his eyes closed he could almost forget that it wasn’t you. But then she ran her fingers down his cheek – you kept yours short, most nurses do – and sighed so breathy he almost stilled inside of her before she wrapped her legs around his waist, milking him to completion by rolling her hips with a gasp. 

They vowed to never speak of it again. But everywhere he went, Bradley felt like June would be there. He ignored her calls the rest of the week you were gone. And when you called, tired after a full day of medical seminars, he forced himself to swallow the truth that threatened to burst from his lips. 

“I love you,” you whispered into the phone. 

Bradley choked back a sob. “I love you too, baby.” 

***

You didn’t know. At least, you didn’t think you knew. It was just a hunch, a suspicion. 

The first clue was when you got home from New York. The house was spotless. Normally, Bradley was a slob. A jersey hung over empty dining room chairs, tupperware piled in the sink, beard trimmings along the granite countertops in the bathroom. This time it looked like a forensic team had swooped in. 

And then the way he looked at you. Sad, soulful eyes. Usually, Bradley greeted you like a dog at the door. Eager, blissfully ignorant. 

This time, there was something hovering beyond the watery irises. 

And when you called June to ask if she thought you had any reason to worry, there was the sharp inhale on her end of the line. You had heard that inhale before. Sophomore year at Vanderbilt. Your roommate had cheated with your boyfriend of two months. And when you asked her why there was a condom in her trash can, she sucked in a breath, eyes darting around the room, refusing to make contact with your own. And then the next time you saw her with your boyfriend in tow at the dining hall, you knew. The way they looked at each other. There were secrets hiding in plain sight. 

So you invited June to dinner. And when she showed up in a dowdy dress, luscious hair pulled back into a bun, you felt your stomach drop to your toes. And when Bradley wouldn’t meet her eyes, you knew. 

***

You promised." Bradley's eyes filled with tears. He went to touch you, but you stumbled back, out of his reach. "I only asked you one thing. Not to break my heart. But you did it anyway. And with her."

"I never meant to hurt you," he said, the strain in his voice evident. His voice, normally so deep, was raspy, as if he was gasping for air in the desert. "Baby. I love you. I fucked up and I'm so sorry."

"It doesn't matter anymore, Bradley," you whispered.

He frowned. "Of course it matters. You matter. It all matters."

You shook your head, tears streaming down your face. Bradley felt his heart plummet in his chest, stretching for his feet, shattering every rib bone along the way as it cascaded out of his chest. He had never hurt anyone the way he had hurt you. "It doesn't, because it's over."

"You can't just say it's over," he replied. "I asked you to marry me. You said yes. We got married, Y/N. You can't just call quits on that because of one small thing."

"One small thing?" He winced as your voice rose. "You fucked her, Bradley. My best friend in the whole world. You fucked her and you lied to me about it."

"I don't know what to tell you other than I am so sorry. I regret it with every fiber of my being. I hate myself for it. Is that what you wanted? Will knowing that make you happy? That I hate who I've become? That I hate the person who could do that to you?"

"Well I hate him too," you said, the anger whipping through your teeth. "I hate you, Bradley Bradshaw. I wish we had never met."

"Don't say that. Baby, I love you. You're my wife and I love you."

"We're leaving. Don't bother trying to come after us."

"We?" Bradley's brown eyes squinted.

"I'm pregnant."

A/N: Yes, another blurb with this bc I'm angsty tonight!!

[inmyloveworld]

i'll look after you (bradley "rooster" bradshaw x reader)

word count: ~1.3k

synposis: "don't think, just do," was a challenging mentality to live by. but bradley quickly finds there is a balance to be had between thinking and doing.

warnings: allusions to anxiety, work abuse, overthinking

a/n: another hurt/comfort, who's surprised? this has been sitting in my drafts with an unfinished smut ending for a month but i’m electing to post without it as i’m not confident in my ~other~ writing abilities yet.. enjoy!

It was rare that the Navy ever let its aviators off early for the day; even more so for the elite members of Top Gun. Yet, with the clock barely stroking past a sunny four, Bradley was reclined on the sofa with a beer in hand. The house was spotless thanks to a shared cleaning spree the day prior. Nothing could have made for a more perfect turn of events.

But Bradley was pondering on the few texts he'd received that day. They were void of any of the color and character he was used to. None of the words exaggerated their spelling, and periods punctuated every short sentence. Everyone had once remarked him as a chronic overthinker both in the air and on the ground. It was easy to dismiss the gnawing he felt in his gut as the remnants of that mentality.

So, he cracked a Heineken and let himself indulge in uncommon solitude. The flat screen played his favorite drama to placate his mind. A subtle hunger led to perusing online menus for takeout ideas. Every little bit of stimulation was a welcome distraction from his pompous presumptions.

And then he heard it: the abrupt slam of a car door. Fumbling footsteps made their way to the front stoop followed by a clamoring of keys against the painted wood. Bradley grinned as he awaited the arrival, even through the slight tug of worry in his chest.

He watched as you stumbled inside without care. Shaking hands hung up tightly gripped keys and those same fumbling feet kicked off their shoes in frustration. Your shoulders rose and fell sharply with every short breath.

Was I overthinking?

Bradley had yet to see your face, had yet to meet those eyes always bright with excitement. Your face remained tucked toward the wall with each passing second. Swallowing his hesitation, Bradley spoke over the TV. "Baby?"

Your body reacted in shock, jolting up as your head whipped around.

I wasn't.

Hot tears were rolling down your cheeks. Said cheeks were splotchy, proof that these tears were far from the first you'd shed that day. The bright eyes he adored were puffy and red. Their brightness now was not out of joy but sorrowful watering.

Bradley's heart clenched tightly. "Oh, angel," he cooed, hurrying to displace his Heineken to a coaster and mute the TV. You had little time and no energy left to fight his comfort. As your boyfriend stood before you with open arms, you crashed into them.

He wasted no time in embracing you. Sobs broke past your wobbling lips and muffled against his shoulder. "I've got you, babe," Bradley soothed. "I've got you, it's okay. Just let it out."

All you had ever wanted was for someone to support you whenever life put you through the wringer. Bradley felt it a great privilege to be that support, knowing you'd do nothing short of the same for him. He almost cursed himself for letting his insecurities derail his intuition for you, but dismissed the old habit of self-deprecation. Nothing mattered more in this moment than helping you get back on your feet.

"I- I didn't know, you'd be ho-home," you blubbered. The comment irked something in him. How long had you been coming home in a similar state, putting yourself together just in time for him to get home? Were there more despondent texts or other warning signals he hadn't picked up on?

Each hypothesis built a greater desire to look after you, and to follow up on any twinge of doubt he felt. He needed not only to think but to take action on what he thought. "Shh, none of that, baby. None of that. You can always let go around me, okay? 'Can always tell me what's bugging you."

The words lifted heaviness off of you little by little. You cried more at the safety you felt in his words. Bradley guided you, leaden-legged, to the couch. He sat first before gently tugging you atop his lap.

Warm palms rubbed against your cheeks to dry them. Warmer brown eyes sunk into yours, unconditional love seeping through every glint of gold. "Do you wanna talk about it now, or later?" Though not wanting to let your feelings fester, Bradley didn't desire to press you for answers.

He watched as you took in a steady breath and nodded slowly. "Work's just.. just been really frustrating." You sniffled before continuing with anecdotes of being overworked and underappreciated.

Bradley continued to rub softly at your skin as you spoke. His lips pressed assuring kisses to your temples at times you got too worked up to continue. He gave every ounce of care and attention he could to your stories as you vented them out.

You slumped forward in his hold as you finished with a heaving sigh. Another soft kiss was pressed to the crown of your head. "Thank you for telling me, baby." His hands took up rubbing up and down your arms to help ease any remaining tension.

Bradley wasn't sure what he could say or do to make any of this better for you, to help resolve your problems in one fell swoop so that you never had to feel this way again. At the same time, he wasn't sure that a fix-it attitude was what you wanted or needed.

Don't think, just do.

"I want you to know that you're amazing. You work your ass off in everything you do without any promise of reward, and that's really admirable." You lifted your head slightly to see him, to see the sincerity dripping from his praises. "But you deserve recognition for it. It's not fair that you're continually overlooked for fuckheads who don't do a fraction of the shit you do. And it's not fair that you're made to feel so much less than you're worth. I'd kick all their asses if I could." His empty threat broke a small giggle from your lips as grateful tears replaced those of frustration.

Bradley returned your smile with one of his own before resuming a serious tone. "You don't ever have to put on a show for me, okay? I want you to know you're safe to come to me with anything, even the littlest complaints that you write off as whining. Do you ever think I'm whining about Jake getting on my nerves? Or Maverick getting too tough with me in the air?"

"Sometimes."

"Okay, that wasn't the best example." You laughed again, louder this time, and Bradley felt his chest swell with pride. He leaned forward to catch your lips against his, softly, allowing you to take the reins. The kiss stayed soft and sweet as you melted against him. Soft breaths filled the space between you as you parted, resting foreheads against one another. "I'll always look after you, angel. Don't forget that." You nodded in agreement before kissing him once more.

"Thank you."

🏷️: @avengersfan25

[gretagerwigsmuse]

“What if this is our only chance?” You asked quietly. “What if - “ you shut your mouth and the guilt of situation started to overwhelm you. Bradley only hummed, still choosing to remain mute. “Would you hate me?” - i have this thought a lot, too? if i got pregnant now and had an abortion because it’s really not the right time for me, would it be my only chance? i think that’s the scariest part for me? so i really liked her vocalizing this, not just thinking it

You only turned green as food cooked around you so it was easy to excuse yourself and the extreme exhaustion that overwhelmed you the first trimester slinked away entering the second. You weren’t horribly unwell but things were definitely changing within you. - i like that she waits to tell people other than bradley, i feel like it would be something i’d want to keep really close to the vest besides with my partner, it always stresses me out when people tell me so soon so i can’t imagine it being me??

"You know?" you screeched, spoiled for months of your husband home and he finds himself deployed as you enter your final trimester. "Bradley, you'll be away for the birth of your daughter." - fuckkkkkkk oh this hurts and reminds me of the original christmas fic

“I’m just scared. The birth is one thing… but I can’t raise a baby in my own,” you said, the fear in your evident. “And I’d never let you,” he whispered into your hair. - this always breaks my heart whenever something to this effect is said? because really bradley you have no way of not letting something happen? he’s gotta be home for his girls

dying to know how reader reacted to finding out she was pregnant in the boyfriend experience uni 😫 likeeee ik she wasn’t ready for kids in uncle brooster but bradley was so were there mixed feelings abt it? especially since there was no telling when he’d be deployed again

Hi nonny, I don’t know where you are in the cosmos. But this is for you x

A/N I forgot I had this. I don't have the time this close to Xmas/at all to proof/improve so for those of you still in the TGM, I hope you enjoy and merry merry, happy happy xx

“Roll the dice,” you reiterate to Bradley. “If we get pregnant, great. If we don’t…”

“It’s you and me and we are great with that,” Bradley answered, the faintest glint of hope in his shining honey eyes.

You knew he was on Team Baby. He wasn't pressing it; he couldn’t. That wasn’t fair to you… to him or anyone else. You’d said your piece well before you got engaged, and well before today.

The day you married him.

But in the back of the afterglow of lovemaking as husband and wife, you’d told him you’d go off birth control after your honeymoon if he still wanted to try for a baby. You didn’t want it to be immediate, you wanted to enjoy being married and the fun that came with it. And Bradley agreed. You didn’t want to be thinking about periods and not drinking and having the time of your lives. Bradley was busier with work now than ever before, and with the work extensions complete, new staffing, and more small business to take care of, even though you were together every night? You were still doing your own things, barely getting into bed at the same time.

Thing was, you were only hoping to be a newlywed once - marriage wasn't as big a thing for you as it was for Bradley. And even babies. You loved your niece and nephew and Uncle Brooster was fantastic with them - it always left a pang in your heart that he would be such a good father. But even he admitted he wouldn't have the first idea of how to do it since his dad wasn't around when he was growing up and Maverick wasn't exactly an example of patriarchal learning.

You didn’t want to add the stress of calculating ovulation even if an app would do it for you, the disappointment of periods coming… you just wanted to have fun fucking, and pleasing each other as you moved into the next phase of your lives. The stress Annie went through and the lengths she was going to with IVF therapies - overwhelming hormones, nausea, mood swings, sore boobs, abdominal discomfort. God, when you had a difficult period, you could assume similarly but as Annie went through her treatments, at a fairly young age, it was eye-opening at best.

You remembered one sentence so vividly that it scared you to your bones, “When your biological clock starts… it’s all that your brain hears. You can’t undo it and it messes with your head.”

See? Terrifying. Fair for all involved.

But when your period was late after about two periods since going off birth control, you kind of hoped it was the drama of irregular periods and what it brought. It was why you went on the pill in the first place in your teens.

But there was something different as you channel surfed and Bradley cooked in the (motherfucking, finally renovated) kitchen. A strange cramping in your tummy. Not unbearable, but noticeable as you pressed against the pulsating pressure and made a face. Sighing, you unfolded yourself from the couch and moved to your handsome husband. You tenderly kissed between his shoulder blades and he gave an over the top shudder, as you giggled into his skin. He put his utensil down and turned to you, holding your chin in his calloused bug hand and giving you a quick peck before you quietly excused yourself, but not yet willing to admit to him it was to do a pregnancy test. And you weren’t entirely surprised when it revealed you were 1-2 weeks pregnant. And you weren’t entirely surprised when you showed him the positive pregnancy test after dinner that still certainly said PREGNANT in fat, bold letters.

“It tells you how many weeks?” Bradley was astonished, his eyes glued to the digital reading before him.

“Clever, huh?” you said quietly. Bradley’s honey eyes flicked to regard you. Unreadable at best, erring on the side of too quiet. Reserved, but not disappointed, he had trouble reading you sometimes, and this was one he'd need you to talk through. He needed to know exactly what was going on through your head.

“You good?” he asked softly, grasping the test in his strong palm. It was so small but it held his world in his grip. He put the test down to caress your jaw, forcing your gaze to him. “Love…” his fingers light as they sunk into the hair at the nape of your neck. “My sweet girl,” he called to you.

“I think I am. It’s just… quick," you surrender, falling into his sound touch.

“It is quick,” Bradley agreed, kissing your hair. “Is it too quick?”

“Maybe…” you admitted as he pressed a kiss into your temple and wrapped his strong arms around you. He felt too warm and he protected you without question, you really couldn’t imagine life without him right there.

“If it’s too soon, that’s okay," he said softly.

“I saw how hard it was for Annie and just expected we’d be on our own a bit longer. Genetics and shit."

He bit back his smile and your inadvertent joke, or necessary sarcasm. Bradley hummed. “I think your genetics are pretty fine, if you ask me.”

Eyes rolling in corny, you muttered his name as a warning that jokes were unnecessary at this time.

“Okay, okay,” he answered, palms up, teasing off. He knew you were withholding and he knew he was holding everything back in his body not to go over the top with the excitement bubbling in his entire being. “Love, is this what you want? If you're not ready - if you have changed your mind - ”

I just need some time,” you admitted, cutting him off. “Just to get used to…” your voice trailed.

Bradley nodded. He in no way felt like it was his place to speak and as the facial one between the pair of you? Well. So he just continued to hold you and whisper that whatever you decided was okay, and he would support you with anything you decided, a lot or not he wasn’t sure. He thought you were on the same page. He thought you both wanted this -

Like you, his insides were much and could feel himself lightheaded. He grounded himself and carefully reminded himself this wasn’t about him for now. It was getting your beautifully convoluted brain and heart to the same place his was:

Ready.

“What if this is our only chance?” You asked quietly. “What if - “ you shut your mouth and the guilt of situation started to overwhelm you. Bradley only hummed, still choosing to remain mute. “Would you hate me?”

He remained reflective a moment, choosing his words carefully his best option.

“No, love. But I would never live with myself if I forced you to do something you weren’t ready for. Come,” he took your hands and led you to the bedroom. He helped you take off your clothes, his large palm resting gently over your abdomen for just a second longer than he should have and it didn’t go unnoticed by you.

His baby in your protective, strong body.

He pulled back the duvet and patted your pillow as you snuck under the cold sheets, thinking maybe you could sleep a year. He climbed in after you, the warm skin of his chest against your back under the slowly spinning ceiling fan. His fingertips traced your hip, slowly drawing his name on your skin. "If you don't want to do this, it's okay.”

There was your voice of reason.

“But it's still something you'll need to consider pretty quick..."

Always offering you both sides.

It was silent a while and while Bradley’s excitement was guarded carefully, even he knew this conversation was not the light and excited one he thought you’d share instead.

"I want this," you were able to say, but it was easier with him not boring his eyes into yours. He kissed your shoulder and nuzzled the nape of your neck.

"I love you," he said so softly you almost didn't hear him. "I won't let you do this alone."

The fateful night you told your family and the Dagger Squad was when it really started to feel real. Your pregnancy to that point has been pretty good. You only turned green as food cooked around you so it was easy to excuse yourself and the extreme exhaustion that overwhelmed you the first trimester slinked away entering the second. You weren’t horribly unwell but things were definitely changing within you.

Boobs sore and off limits to Bradley even though he’d playfully volunteered his palms but your personal support system. It went about as well as expected.

“Just ginger ale tonight?” Bob smiled a while later. You’d been chatting quietly together while Bradley’s squad played pool and generally one-upped each other around you.

“What do you mean?” God, you hated lying to such a delight as Bob. He was so sweet, and although Bradley had alluded to his well-guarded playboy-like ways, he was always darling to you.

“I have four sisters,” he sipped his water. “She pretended she was drinking bourbon and ginger ale to throw everyone off the scent she was…” he chuckled quietly and you’d be damned if you’d figured him out. “It’s okay,” he said quickly. “I understand if you’re just not drinking tonight.”

And while your family was aware of your news, Bradley had sworn not to tell his friends just yet. You weren’t ready to be looked in on 24/7 by overzealous Navy pilots.

“Nearly four months,” you said quietly.

“Phoenix guessed a little less,” he winked. “I won’t tell, but I’m very happy for you both. This baby will be so loved. Or smothered,” he shrugged playfully. “One of the two.”

“Bob?”

“Yes, ma’am?” He responded as you rolled your eyes playfully.

“This is how you do it, isn’t it?”

“Do what?” He played dumb.

“Find women. Because you watch and listen.” And suddenly it all made such sense as he blushed, toying with his glass.

“I can’t reveal all my trade secrets, but showing a little interest helps,” he admitted.

“I wanna know all your tricks. You’re absolutely fascinating to me.”

And for the first time, you heard Bob Floyd cackle as he nodded. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but that’s never gonna happen.”

"You're getting deployed?" you look at Bradley, eyes wild, six months of baby belly between you. His head fell back.

"I know."

"You know?" you screeched, spoiled for months of your husband home and he finds himself deployed as you enter your final trimester. "Bradley, you'll be away for the birth of your daughter."

"I know..." he said a little meeker. He was sick about this conversation. Sick.

"Did you not put in the leave paperwork?"

"Of course I did. Baby, this classification is my first real role as team leader. As command.”

"Who's going with you?"

"Payback, Fanboy," he confirmed softly.

“Will you be home for Christmas?”

He nodded. “Yes,” he stepped towards you, his large palms sinking into the round belly under his grasp, tickling the stretching skin. You sighed and collapsed into his hold. “Even if I have to jump overboard and swim back myself, I will be here for Christmas. I’m sorry, love. I’m so sorry.”

“I’m just scared. The birth is one thing… but I can’t raise a baby in my own,” you said, the fear in your evident.

“And I’d never let you,” he whispered into your hair.

"If you see one ounce of action, I swear to you, don't dare come home."

He nodded. Dear God, he knew. The most danger Bradley Bradshaw had ever been in was at this moment. And as his baby girl kicked him from her little cocoon in retaliation for making her Mama wild, he knew that nothing g else mattered anymore and that someway, somehow he was going to find a way to be home for his girls.

masterlist.

[gretagerwigsmuse]

4+5 of the moving in prompts are SO bradley and smart aleck (i mean they all are but still)

i can just imagine them both totally totally giddy

eeeepp thank you for sending this!! 🤭 we’re going to ignore the fact that he falls asleep on her that first night (he’s tired! he’s been somewhere off the coast of guam! he’s had to deal with payback’s snoring for three months! she gave him too many drinks with dinner/dessert! it’s not his fault he fell asleep!), so let’s imagine this is that next night when they’re both fully in possession of their faculties - if not a little tipsy! giddy is the best word for them in this stage though! it’s soft and sweet and them!

4.) they sleep in their new bed for the first time

5.) ^ except they have trouble actually falling asleep because they're so excited about living together and getting to wake up next to their favorite person every day.

so by this point, max, caroline, and nat have left after welcome back drinks (with tears honey, tears on max’s side, lighthearted grumbling but a longer than normal hug from caroline, and a knowing look then a long hug from nat). i totally imagine the two of them squashed up against each other on the loveseat and touchy all night and barely able to let an inch of space come between them because they’re so obsessed with each other and happy to be home in the same space ☺️ 

and then they go upstairs like definitely way earlier than normal since they’re both so keen to just slide in between those sheets next to each other. because like bradley says in the chapter, it’s the first time neither of them have to worry someone’s gonna leave in the morning to go back to their respective apartment. and they’re both going to be together for the first time at the same time. they brush their teeth beside each other at the double sink and keep making locking eyes in the mirror and she wears some cute pajamas (the kaia gerber x doen collab comes to mind) and then when they get in bed they both just lay there and talk about bradley being home and if he’s happy and more things she wanted to tell him while he was gone.

and they just keep talking because they’re so happy and content and excited and giddy and he gets all soft and sweet and i can just picture him tucking her hair behind her ear and her getting all bashful at some points and ducking her head and burrowing her face against bradley’s chest and him just holding her. gradually bradley’s voice gets softer and slower and her breathing evens out and she falls asleep in his arms and he realizes he can have this every night now

moving in together otp prompts

[ereardonlibrary]

Darkness [Bradley Bradshaw x Reader]

Full fic here

[crownofdecitreadingrespectfully]

Why do writers apologize for long fics? why aRE YOU SORRY FOR FEEDING US POOR, SORRY SOULS THE MOST BEAUTIFUL ARTWORK WE COULD EVER DREAM OF READING?? DO MICHELIN STAR CHEFS APOLOGIZE FOR COOKING THE MOST DIVINE FOOD EVER MADE??? DO THEY APOLOGIZE FOR NOURISHING OUR BODY AND SOULS????

[writing-until-i-drop]

Quickie | Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x reader | wc: 721

No use of y/n | 18+ Minors DNI

Warnings! teasing, orgasm denial, unprotected p in v (use protection), semi-public I guess?, lmk if I missed anything

Ao3

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

Bradley had been eyeing you all night. You were wearing a new dress and besides a few chaste kisses, you had stayed away from him. Letting Natasha monopolize your attention. You knew what you were doing of course, laughing as Natasha spun you around to the song on the jukebox.

“Look at him, he looks like he’s about to break a tooth he’s clenching his jaw so hard,” Phoenix snorted out a laugh. She spun you around so you could see the man in question. He wasn’t paying attention to the bar flies or the pool game in front of him. No, his eyes were on you. They were hungry and dark, his gaze burning your skin.

“I’m in so much trouble when we get home,” You giggled, excited for your punishment. What would it be? A spanking? Overstimulation? Edging? “I’m gonna go to the bathroom, grab another round for us?” 

“You got it.” You headed for the bathroom, feeling Bradley’s eyes on you. What you didn’t realize was that he was right behind you until he had you lifted on top of the bathroom counter, the door locked behind you.

“Such a fucking tease,” He kissed you hard, hands pushing your dress up around your hips. “You wet for me, baby?” 

“Always,” You moaned, fisting his hair as he kissed down your neck. 

“What were you thinking, huh?” He nipped at your pulse and you moaned as he pushed your panties aside, sliding a finger into your wet heat. “Wearing that dress, acting like you ain’t got a boyfriend.” 

“Lee!” You cried out when he suddenly added a second finger, roughly spreading you open for him.

“Who does this pussy belong to?”

“You,” You moaned, not even trying to tease him. Bradley unbuckled his jeans, pushing them around his knees. You were so needy for him, already worked up from the idea of teasing him all night.

“That’s right, this pussy is mine.” He thrust into you without warning, smothering your moans with a kiss. It had been worth spending the night away from him just to get him worked up like this. Honestly, you thought he’d have enough self control to wait until you were back home or at least in the car but you should have known better.

Bradley Bradshaw was a man of action. 

Bradley set a punishing pace and it was clear, much to your disappointment, that your punishment had already begun. He was chasing his pleasure, not yours, his fingers gripping your hips so tight you knew they’d bruise. 

“All fucking mine, don’t you forget that.” Bradley growled into your ear, “Do you know how hard it was to watch every guy in this bar stare at you while you danced with Phoenix?” 

“Lee, please,” You begged. Unable to take your hands off the counter to help push yourself over the edge without falling back into the mirror.

“No,” Bradley bit your shoulder, marking his territory where every guy in the bar would be able to see it. “I’m going to fill my pussy up, fuck,” His hips jerked erratically, nearing his climax. “And you’re going to go back out there with my gum dripping down your thighs.” 

“Fuck,” Your hips bucked, trying and failing to find delicious friction to push yourself over the edge with him. “Please, Lee, I’m sorry. I won’t leave your side, just let me cum.” 

Bradley wasn’t listening to you, biting and sucking hickeys into your neck until he spilled inside of you with a grunt. 

“I love you,” Bradley panted, kissing you softly. “So much, baby.” You loved him, you really did, but you were too frustrated and horny to return the sentiment.

“Not your biggest fan right now,” You wiped away the tears in your eyes. Bradley sighed, helping you off the counter and fixing your dress.

“I love you,” He tried again, nudging your nose with his, eyes soft. “So fucking much.” You groaned, wrapping your arms around him, relaxing into his broad chest.

“I love you too but what happened to the golden rule?” You referred to the rule where he’d always make you cum before he did. Bradley chuckled, kissing your temple.

“I’ll make it up to you later, I promise. Now come on, I want everyone to see those pretty marks on your neck.”

Taglist: @wanderingsoul6261 @halflifejess @kyemna @alipap3 @yutangwl @teacupsandtopgun @glenpowellluver @closetspngirl @that-one-fangirl69 @starshinegrl @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @sarah-bear706318 @shanimallina87 @atuman @carolina-on-my-mind03 @winelover27 @cherrycola27

[ereardon]

"You promised." Bradley's eyes filled with tears. He went to touch you, but you stumbled back, out of his reach. "I only asked you one thing. Not to break my heart. But you did it anyway. And with her."

"I never meant to hurt you," he said, the strain in his voice evident. His voice, normally so deep, was raspy, as if he was gasping for air in the desert. "Baby. I love you. I fucked up and I'm so sorry."

"It doesn't matter anymore, Bradley," you whispered.

He frowned. "Of course it matters. You matter. It all matters."

You shook your head, tears streaming down your face. Bradley felt his heart plummet in his chest, stretching for his feet, shattering every rib bone along the way as it cascaded out of his chest. He had never hurt anyone the way he had hurt you. "It doesn't, because it's over."

"You can't just say it's over," he replied. "I asked you to marry me. You said yes. We got married, Y/N. You can't just call quits on that because of one small thing."

"One small thing?" He winced as your voice rose. "You fucked her, Bradley. My best friend in the whole world. You fucked her and you lied to me about it."

"I don't know what to tell you other than I am so sorry. I regret it with every fiber of my being. I hate myself for it. Is that what you wanted? Will knowing that make you happy? That I hate who I've become? That I hate the person who could do that to you?"

"Well I hate him too," you said, the anger whipping through your teeth. "I hate you, Bradley Bradshaw. I wish we had never met."

"Don't say that. Baby, I love you. You're my wife and I love you."

"We're leaving. Don't bother trying to come after us."

"We?" Bradley's brown eyes squinted.

"I'm pregnant."

[roosterforme]

Thanks for reblogging!

Red Flags, Green Flags | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Hangman complains about his date’s red flags, but Bradley thinks this girl sounds amazing. 

Warnings: Fluff!

Length: 1900 words

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Female Reader

Check out my masterlist for more.

Hangman tossed some darts listlessly at the dartboard and sighed.  “What’s your problem, man?” Bradley asked. “You look miserable tonight.” “Yeah, you usually get off on beating us at darts. What’s wrong?” Phoenix asked.  “I have a girl meeting me here for a second date in a little while,” Hangman drawled, sipping his whiskey. “I’m beginning to think I shouldn’t have asked her out again.” Payback snorted. “What’s wrong with her? She not hot enough for you?”

Keep reading

[gretagerwigsmuse]

They play games like Rock, Paper, Scissors to decide who has to do which chores.

Actually, I must know, this is vital.

Tell me about the chore dynamics in that house! Who is doing what between Smart Aleck and Bradley? 🥰

oh god what a question. i feel like some things are one hates how the other does xyz chore so they do it themselves? we already know mr fussy does not like how she put the mail on the wrong table and she can’t stand the way he loads a dishwasher - because contrary to popular belief there is a wrong way to load a dishwasher. but like they’ve been together for a year at this point and do already do chores when they’re at the other’s house? bradley loses vacuuming in rock paper scissors but she brings her vacuum so he doesn’t mind as much. she typically changes the sheets but sometimes if she drags the saturday morning out 🙂‍↕️ they do it together. and she preps the lunches on sunday and he’ll get dinner started since he gets home earlier? but his favorite days are when she works from home since they can really start and cook all of dinner together 🤭

they also have a cleaning lady once a month to do the deep cleaning and eventually she comes once a week after they have gil but you didn’t hear that from me

moving in together otp prompts

[ereardonlibrary]

Golden Hour Ch. 10

Full chapter here

[silkoodles]

hey

Here

if that's your jam then give a read and show the author some love. I just really wanted to draw pretty dresses

[writing-until-i-drop]

Marking | Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x reader | wc: 374

No use of y/n | 18+ Minors DNI

Warnings! Hickeys, biting, kinda dirty talk? no actual smut, it's short, lmk if I missed anything

Ao3

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

Bradley had been unbelievably clingy since getting back from deployment. Every second he wasn’t at work, he was attached to your hip. Not that you were complaining. It was Saturday and you were both off work, lazing in bed. You were propped against the pillows, strolling through social media, while Bradley laid with his head on your chests, humming softly. 

“Can I give you a hickey?” Bradley mumbled, nuzzling his face into your breasts, muffling his voice. “Maybe two?” 

“Feeling a little possessive?” You teased, tossing your phone to the other side of the bed. Bradley nodded, “Okay, baby, mark me up.” Bradley perked up, lifting his head for the first time in over an hour. You leaned down, lips meeting in a gentle kiss that put a smile on your face.

“Sit on my lap, honey, and take your top off.” Bradley rolled off of you and onto his side of the bed, you didn’t have the heart to point out that he was now sitting on your phone. You straddled his lap, pulling off the shirt of his you had worn to bed. One of Bradley’s hands rested on your back, bracing you, and the other cupped the back of your neck. 

Bradley’s eyes were filled with desire, taking in every inch of your exposed skin. You had to bite your lip to keep from squirming on his lap and escalating things before he even got started.

“You’re going to look so pretty all bruised up for me,” Bradley kissed your collar bone, “Everyone’s going to be able to look at you and know you’re mine.” He moved up to your neck, “Tell me you’re mine, honey.”

“All yours,” Your voice was ridiculously breathy, even to your ears but you didn’t have it in you to be embarrassed. “Are you going to…?” Bradley chuckled, pulling away from where he was marking the front of your throat.

“You want me to?” 

“Pretty please, Lee?” Bradley kissed his way to your shoulder before gently biting down, “Fuck, baby.” You had discovered an affinity for his love bites after Bradley had gotten a little too carried away going down on you, leaving bite marks and hickeys all over your thighs. 

“So fucking good for me.”

[ereardon]

Darkness [Bradley Bradshaw x Reader]

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader

WC: 500

Warnings: All angst

And in the darkness, she awakened. 

Fingertips on her flesh. Lips on her throat. Sighs in her ear. 

A beg, unspoken. 

She knew what he needed. There was a secret, buried deep within the dark spaces of silence that lingered between them. It was what was unsaid as they moved in rhythm. 

And when it was over, she held him in her arms and told him she would never let go. 

Bradley was quiet, but she knew what he was thinking. 

He needed her. 

***

The first time, she tried to say all of the things that had come into her head for the two weeks that he was gone. But he returned a shell. Gone was the man who stood on top of the wooden bar and sang at the top of his lungs, pulling her up with him, grinning as they swayed to the loud piano music emanating from the corner. 

The man who returned to her was a ghost of the man she loved. 

And yet, she persevered. 

She cooked his favorite meals, rented his favorite movies, organized trips to the beach. Nothing brought back the light behind his chocolate eyes. 

But when he reached for her in the middle of the night, his limbs warm on hers, she knew that he was crawling out of a nightmare she’d never see. 

And so she held him, flesh to flesh, lips on his, eyes closed but seeing all they needed to. 

And when it was over, she held him tight and promised to never let go, and finally the tears that had been building started to flow and she knew that the man who had returned had lost a piece of himself out there in the skies. 

***

Time passed, and things changed, but still she found herself reaching for him in the darkness, even when his side of the bed was cold. And the reminder that he was out there, in the unknown, burned a hole of fear in her stomach. 

But when he returned, and his side of the mattress was warm, there was still an emptiness that surrounded the bed. 

She stopped asking what had happened. 

As the lines in his face grew deeper, and as their house filled with the sound of children’s footsteps that turned from whispers to thunder, the silence grew as a weight between their hearts. 

And in the quiet, she closed her eyes. 

In the quiet, she wondered what her life would have been like if he had never stepped foot in that jet. 

In the quiet, she contemplated leaving. 

But then flesh begot flesh, and he belonged to her again, if only for a moment. 

And in the stillness, his eyes opened. 

In the darkness, he pressed his hand to her cheek. 

In the quiet, she opened her eyes. 

And then his voice, husky and deep, penetrated the air that stood so still around them. 

He asked for forgiveness, for the way he haunted her. 

She leaned forward and tipped her forehead against his. 

She needed him, too.  

Tagging some people who may be interested:

@bobfloydsbabe @blue-aconite @clancycucumber230 @kmc1989 @xomrsalliej4787xo @xoxabs88xox @shanimallina87 @taytaylala12 @th3-oncoming-storm @teacupsandtopgun @djs8891 @callsign-magnolia @callsign-joyride @sio-ina-bottle @startrekfangirl2233-writes @horseshoegirl @desert-fern @blackwidownat2814

[ereardonlibrary]

Golden Hour Ch. 8 [Bob Floyd x OC; Bradley Bradshaw x OC]

Full chapter here