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the-weird-horse-girl · 1 year ago

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I write this with my mouth hanging open. This was such a beautiful and wholesome chapter, Emily! Not to mention fucking HOT. I still haven’t recovered from that desperate backseat fuck 🥵🥵

Always Ever Only You Part 22 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley was never one to shy away from a dangerous mission, and this one had a lot at stake for a lot of reasons. As you tried to pass the time without him at home, it was frustrating having no idea when he might return. Then a phone call when you're out shopping almost brings you to tears.

Warnings: Swearing, mission related angst, smut, fluff, mentions of hostages

Length: 5100 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

Bradley sat in his unmarked F/A-18, ready to launch from catapult two, and the only lights he could see came from the deck of the USS Nimitz and the radar screen reflecting onto his canopy. As soon as he was launched and his teammates were in the air as well, the aircraft cruiser deck would go black. His radar screen would be dimmed. The moon and stars overhead would become more prominent. He would be flying in the darkest conditions of his career.

This seat felt foreign to him. The whole jet did. He really missed his own aircraft which was sitting on the tarmac in San Diego. You were in San Diego. He couldn't believe he just talked to you over facetime a handful of hours ago. It felt like he hadn't seen you or heard your voice in a year. Every minute felt like a hundred. Every breath he took felt like it made his harness straps just a little bit tighter.

The headset in his helmet crackled to life. "Rooster, prepare to launch in one minute."

"Standing by," he replied, running his thumb over his silicone ring one more time before pulling on his gloves. He waited and waited, ready for action. His adrenaline was waiting just under the surface. When he launched off the deck followed by Havoc, Dugout and Richmond, he gained a little altitude and led them in a slow loop around the carrier, watching for the lights on deck to go out.

Then they did, and it was just darkness all around. It was more disorienting than he anticipated, and his breath caught in his throat as he thought of you in the dark bedroom at home, alone. He needed to get back there.

Bluebird and Wilbur were already miles ahead, working with the slower comanche which was trying to get crystal clear real time imaging for the Seal team. "Approaching the coastline," Bluebird said, and Bradley heard her through his headset. "Comanche in position. Fly, Rooster."

And that was the code not only for Bradley's team to move toward the airstrip at maximum speed, but also the signal that the only conversation allowed now would be through a specific code. "Juniper whiskey," he spoke, realizing he would sound like an idiot to anyone who wasn't involved with Operation Loophole. But in his side mirrors, he could see the barest outlines of the other jets following him at his current speed of 600 knots.

When he gave the verbal command to steadily drop altitude, the lights of the cities and towns below grew brighter as they approached the coastline. "Idaho whiskey."

It felt strange to drop altitude so quickly once they neared the airstrip. Bradley's initial reaction was to ready missiles for deployment, but there would be no weapons used today. He wasn't even equipped with a single missile let alone the six he normally was. They were not to fire upon anyone; they were to avoid being hit at all costs. The only thing they had on their side was the surprise attack and the plan that they cobbled together.

"Lima Lima," Bradley said once he could see the airstrip, and he and Dugout dipped so low, Bradley could tell what color uniforms the officers walking around the well lit tarmac were wearing. So low in fact, he could hear the alarms blaring before he and Dugout hit six G's for a fast altitude gain. Bradley could see Havoc and Richmond outlined by the moon as he climbed. Without a single WSO on the mission, there was nobody to inform him whether or not the enemy jets were taking to the sky. He had to wait until Havor or Richmond saw something of use. And then he finally heard it.

"Hot sauce."

Bradley smiled at the word he'd chosen to signal that the plan was still on track. Richmond must have eyes on the enemy below, and when Bradley flew a loop, he was surprised to see the moon reflecting off of an enemy fighter a lot closer to him than anticipated. He throttled back up to 600 knots after saying the command word; and now it was time for the rodeo to begin.

He felt calm in spite of his adrenaline, and Bluebird was the only voice he heard now as he headed for the darkness of the open water with his team. "Bell Bottoms," Bluebird said clearly, and that meant the SEAL team was given the go ahead to breach the building where the hostages were housed.

Then Bradley saw the streaks of orange directly behind him, and it was a miracle he hadn't been hit by any of the barrage of bullets being fired at him as he saw nothing but the darkness of open water below. "Fuck," he muttered under his breath. He checked his radar and throttled up fast. "Whiskey gold," he called out, inverting to try to see who had shot at him.

He saw a flash of moonlight on a silver wing and knew that's who it must have been. His fingers flexed on the throttle, and he wanted nothing more than to dive back down and ruin their day. But he couldn't. So he kept to the plan. He could see his teammates in tight formation on his radar, but then he saw more orange streaks in the night. "Shit."

Bradley checked his fuel capacity and nudged the throttle up to 650 knots, letting his teammates know to do the same. They needed to loop back around south toward the USS Nimitz, but they needed to time it just right so the enemy aircrafts were running too low on fuel to go after the Navy SEAL team and the hostages. If the SEALs were even able to get them out.

Bradley was starting to sweat. He hadn't heard an update from Bluebird in nearly three minutes. That was way too long for the hostage recovery to have been successful. Now he was all too aware of his breathing and the sound of his heart in his ears. One of the hostages was a seventeen year old kid. Another one was pregnant.

He felt sick to his stomach as he waited, but he knew he only had another few seconds before he had to draw everyone further south. He counted to ten in his head, ready with the command word on his tongue as he checked his fuel gauge. And then he heard Bluebird say, "Bottoms up."

The SEALS were out with the five hostages in the heavily armed transport van. Bradley commanded his group to move south, and sure enough, one by one, the enemy aircrafts headed back toward land. Whether they were going to attempt to go after the hostages or not, Bradley wasn't concerned. They had to be nearly out of fuel just like his team was. The only benefit he had was the fact that the aircraft carrier was nearby, waiting in the quiet darkness below.

So let them try to go after the SEALs. It didn't matter. They had too much of a head start. As Bradley neared the exact coordinates where the carrier should be, he turned his regular longer distance radio on again and said, "Omega one."

The answer came in the form of the carrier deck being lit up in red lights, signalling that it was safe for them to land one by one. And when a second set of white lights came to life in the tower, Bradley pumped his fist in the air. That meant Bluebird and Wilbur were successfully on their way back with the comanche.

Bradley was the first one to touch down on deck, and he scrambled out of his jet in time to see Havoc's tailhook catch. Then the other two landed. The four of them ended up lining up alongside Warlock and Jackal who remained completely quiet until fifteen minutes later when the comanche touched down followed by the last two unmarked F/A-18s.

When Warlock started walking, Bradley followed him down the spiral of stairs and into the well lit classroom. Bradley realized he was soaked with sweat as he sat down in the back row alone and watched everyone else file in. He counted the beats of his heart, and as Cyclone walked inside, he closed the door but kept his hand on the knob.

"Operation Loophole was highly successful. The five hostages are in a secure location along with SEAL Team 7. Please keep in mind that the sensitive details of this mission are considered top secret. Now, go get some rest. Eat a good meal when you wake up. We'll meet back here at 1200 hours to debrief and discuss plans to get you back home."

Then Cyclone turned the knob, and he was gone. Bradley took his time walking back to his bunk, and he showered before collapsing into his bed. Selfishly, he let his mission overwrite some of the damage Slayer and Dean had done to his ego. The adrenaline hadn't quite worn off, and he doubted it would until he saw you again, but the sense of relief he felt let him drift off into a comfortable sleep.

---------------------------

You were at Costco trying to decide how much chicken to buy when you got the phone call. If Bradley was going to come home this weekend, you'd make a double batch of Marry Me Rooster. If he wouldn't be home this weekend, and would subsequently miss spending his birthday with you, then you would only need to make a smaller batch.

When your phone rang in your pocket, you assumed it was your mom and dad finalizing plans to fly to San Diego. If Bradley wasn't back for their visit, then you could cancel their hotel room and have them stay with you. But your phone screen said RESTRICTED CALLER, and you almost dropped the pack of chicken on the floor.

Your heart was pounding in your ears, and the metallic taste of fear filled your mouth. Someone was calling you about Bradley. It had been a few days since you talked to him in the shower, and now someone else was calling you.

"Hello?" Your voice was hoarse and soft, but you didn't even want to clear your throat and cut off the person on the other end of the call. You had to grip the cart handle as a cheerful voice greeted you.

"I'm calling in regards to your husband, Lieutenant Commander Bradley Bradshaw. Could you please confirm your full name and date of birth?"

You rattled off the information for her and went silent again as she took her time with whatever information she had for you. She didn't sound like she had bad news, but you just weren't sure. It hurt to take a deep breath, and your eyes were starting to burn when she finally said, "Okay.... it looks like he'll be flying back into San Diego International on Saturday night. That's June 27th at 10:45 pm."

"Oh my god," you gasped, leaning against the refrigerator case and forcing air in and out of your lungs.

"Can you pick him up?"

"Yes," you replied. "Of course. I'll be there."

"Have a great day!"

Bradley was coming home on his birthday. You started laughing as happy tears filled your eyes. You decided to get the big pack of chicken. Then you walked around the store and thought about the time you'd called him Daddy while you shopped together last year. Your heart twinged at the thought; you knew he actually wanted to be a daddy, and you wanted that for him, too. But you and he had really enjoyed yourselves that day.

You ended up buying way more than you probably needed, including everything to make him a lemon cake to go with his birthday dinner. When you brought him home around midnight on Saturday, the two of you could stay up and eat together if he wasn't too tired. Then on Sunday, you'd keep him in bed all day, alternating between snuggling with him and having birthday sex.

The countdown was on. Just a few days to go. Giddy and excited, you drove home to get the house cleaned up a bit. You gave Tramp a bath and then cleaned the bathroom. You vacuumed everything and got caught up on your laundry so Bradley's dirty clothes could go right into the machines. You had to force yourself to go to sleep around midnight even though you felt like you could run a marathon.

At lunch on Thursday, you finally ran into Bob. You had called him on Sunday, asking if he was still looking for a new place to rent. When he told you he was, you mentioned your old apartment and Maria. "Oh. Thank you. Let me think about it," was all he told you.

Now he was just ahead of you in line in the cafeteria, and you cornered him by the condiments. "Hey, did you give any more thought to moving in with Maria?"

Bob looked up at you as he continued to pump the ketchup, flooding his tray of French fries with it. "Yeah," he said, sounding very unsure about himself. "I thought about it. But I don't think it's a very good idea."

Your brow scrunched in confusion. The apartment was great, and Maria was one of your best friends. "Well, why not? Maria is amazing."

Bob's cheeks were pink as he set the saturated fries down on his lunch tray and avoided your eyes. "Yeah, she's great. I think it would actually be me who was the problem," he muttered.

You shook your head. "But Bob, you're great, too."

He smiled softly at you before he picked up his tray and looked around the room. "I think I would end up making it awkward. You've seen me around attractive women. You know how I am."

"Oh," you said as you looked at him. "But you're not awkward at all, Bob. Maybe you're a little quiet around women, but definitely not awkward."

You saw Maria across the cafeteria, and she waved to you. Bob immediately ducked in the other direction toward Phoenix, and you let him go. When you sat down across from Maria, she immediately asked, "Why didn't you bring Bob with you? I was going to mention my place. And besides, he always smells so good."

"I don't think it's going to work out," you said carefully. "Are you interested in him?"

She scoffed. "No. He's not my type. He's quiet and kind of shy and has those rosy cheeks. Nah. Not my thing."

"I didn't think so." But as you watched her watching him, you really weren't so sure.

On Friday, you stopped out in the tower in the afternoon when you had some free time in your schedule, and as soon as you poked your head into the rec room, everyone was calling your name.

Nat jumped up from the couch when you walked inside. "What are you doing out here?"

You gave Fanboy a high five and accepted a hug from Payback. "Just saying hi. Is Bob around?"

Just then, he walked in with his flight suit sleeves tied around his waist. He was all sweaty, his hair was attractively mussed, and he was drinking from a reusable water bottle while his Adam's apple bobbed.

"Speak of the fucking devil," Nat said collapsing back onto the couch.

Bob was already blushing as you walked over to him and quietly said, "Hey, I'm not trying to pressure you at all. But I can assure you that Maria doesn't think you're awkward in the least bit."

His eyes darted around the room where Fanboy and Payback were in the middle of an argument, and you knew he didn't want them to overhear. "She doesn't?"

"Not at all. She thinks you're kind and courteous and that you smell good."

"She does?" he asked in disbelief.

"Yes. I promise. She's also almost never home, so if you moved in, you'd probably hardly ever see her. She does taekwondo and kickboxing and she volunteers all the time." His eyes lit up, probably at the prospect of having the place to himself most evenings. "And I don't think you're really her type, so any awkwardness at the beginning would probably vanish right away."

He was nodding at you with a very serious expression although now he looked a little sad. "Okay. I'll talk to her."

"Great," you said, giving him a quick hug before you turned to leave.

"Wait," Nat called out as she ate a twinkie and tried to kick Coyote off the couch where he was napping. "Bradley's coming back tomorrow? Hard Deck night?"

You were hoping for something a little more private with him, but you just smiled and said, "His flight doesn't even land until almost 11 o'clock. Next week? Wednesday night maybe?"

She nodded and gave you a thumbs up. When you left the rec room, you walked right past Jake and Cat making out next to the stairs. They turned to look at you but made no move to separate.

"Wait, I think I hear Hondo coming," you said loudly as you started to run away with a grin on your face. Jake just flipped you off, and that was fine with you. The only thing you really cared about was getting home and preparing for Bradley.

After you took Tramp for a long walk, you started on Bradley's lemon cake. You made a second confetti cake as a decoy, just to make him laugh. You could always drop it off for your elderly neighbors on Sunday after you clocked the thinly veiled annoyance on your husband's face. Then you got to work on a massive batch of Marry Me Rooster. He always came home hungry after being away, usually complaining about the food that was served on the carriers.

You paused while you were working and took a minute to just be thankful that Bradley was coming home to you after only two weeks away. You were in a much better headspace after this short time apart, and you were very thankful for that as well. Tomorrow was Bradley's birthday. Your period was over. You were picking up the calendar in the morning, and you were picking Bradley up tomorrow night.

"Get ready, Tramp. Daddy's almost home."

------------------------------

Bradley was so antsy on his thirteen hour flight from Seoul to San Diego, he could barely sit still. Even the business class seat did little to help him get comfortable. He felt too aware of every part of his entire body. His arms felt too big. His legs felt too long. His fingers were practically twitching with the anticipation of seeing you and touching you. He should have jerked off on the carrier when he had the chance.

Now he was counting down the hours while he wrote a little bit in his notebook, but even then, the pages read like a dirty movie starring you and him. He had actually written the sentence I like to take my wife hard when I return home from deployments.

"What the fuck," he whispered to himself, trying not to disturb the person who was sleeping next to him as he closed his notebook and tossed it into his backpack. When he tried to stretch his legs out, all he could think about was how it felt to be in his king sized bed with you where there was plenty of room. Plenty of room, sure, but you always ended up on top of him. You were always touching him, running your fingers along his tattoo and up into his hair.

Bradley jolted upright in his seat, practically panting as he took his phone out to check the time. Two more hours. Two more fucking hours. He wouldn't make it. Maybe he should jerk it in the lavatory? But no, he already knew his hand wouldn't satisfy him now. He needed your body. There was something about the successful completion of Operation Loophole that made his adrenaline run hot and stay that way. It was like he could feel his blood pumping through his veins and needed to do something about it.

When Cyclone and Warlock pulled him aside and called him 'a hell of a good pilot', it was like he could hear your voice right next to his ear. Praising him. He went back to his bunk to pack for home, but all he could think about was you with your hands all over him. Just you, whispering something soft and innocent that slowly turned into something filthy.

By the time the commercial jet started its descent into San Diego, Bradley had both fists clenched on the arm rests. He was back to practicing the steady breathing techniques Bob taught him, but his cock was a little hard in his jeans regardless. He was ready to go. When he turned off airplane mode and checked his text messages, yours was right at the top.

Baby Girl Bradshaw: Happy birthday! I can't wait to see you! I'll be in baggage claim, ready to take you home!

Bradley grunted as he slowly deboarded the plane, and once he was free of the crowd of people around the gate, he started walking with longer strides. Home. When he got you back to the craftsman, he was going to fuck you until you couldn't talk. Until you couldn't move. He could practically taste your skin already. He could hear the way you were going to whine for him.

As he approached the baggage claim area, he squeezed the rubber handrail of the escalator like he wanted to kill it. There you were, looking up at the arrivals board with your back to him, wearing one of your little dresses. He could pick you out of a crowd of hundreds. Maybe thousands. He could find your pretty face or the perfect swell of your ass anywhere. He knew the way you shifted from one foot to the other by heart. He knew exactly what it looked like when you anxiously checked your outfit, running your palms down over your hips.

When Bradley released the handrail, there was nothing that could keep him from you. One, two, three, four, five steps in your direction, and he was calling out your name. His voice sounded tense and a little bit stern, and when you spun to face him, your pretty little dress swirled around your thighs. He'd have that thing up around your waist so fast, you wouldn't know what to do with yourself.

"Roo," you gasped as you rushed toward him. But you must have known. You always knew. Your lips were parted, and your eyes were wide. There was no doubt in his mind that you knew what he needed as he reached for your body. "Roo," you moaned softly as his lips met yours while he backed you up against a pillar.

He didn't say a word. He just tasted the inside of your mouth with his tongue as your arms went around his neck. Bradley's hands were on your ass, and through the flimsy material of your dress, he was certain you weren't wearing any underwear. He grunted into your mouth as he used his teeth, and you were already whining softly.

When he brought one hand up to your neck, he was less than gentle. The softness of your body against his had him growing harder and harder, and there was no doubt in his mind that you could feel him against your belly. You raked your fingers through his hair as he released your lips, and you whispered, "Happy birthday."

He brought his lips to your neck and dragged them up to your ear where he grunted, "I need to fuck you."

When you sighed and pressed your body tighter to his, Bradley could feel your nipples through your dress. His brain was screaming at him to unzip his pants and bend you over right here. Take what he needed. Your hand cupping his length as you smirked at him wasn't helping at all, and then you said, "I think that can be arranged, Daddy."

Fuck. As soon as the baggage carousel started up behind him, he snatched his duffle off of the belt, his other hand still firmly on your ass. You already looked a little dazed as you led him out to the quiet parking garage. There was nobody around as Bradley tucked his hand up inside the hem of your dress, finally feeling that supple skin against his rough palm.

"Roo," you gasped, trying your best to walk along with your keys in your hand while he let his middle finger drift down closer to your pussy. But you didn't tell him to stop, and he knew how you were. There was nobody around anyway, of that he was certain, but even if there had been, you probably wouldn't have minded.

"Where did you park, Sweetheart?" he asked, his head on a swivel as he looked around the dark corner of the garage for his Bronco.

"Over there," you gasped, gesturing toward a massive pickup truck. And sure enough, your shittly little car was tucked between it and the wall. Bradley stopped in his tracks with his hand on your ass and pulled you closer so your front was pressed against his.

You were clinging to his tee shirt as he asked, "How the hell am I supposed to fuck you in that thing? Why didn't you bring the Bronco?"

You whimpered and kissed his chin. "I took the Bronco out earlier, and I forgot to get gas for it."

Bradley kissed your lips hard and squeezed your ass before letting go of you in favor of your hand. He would have to work with what he had, because he was at the point of no return now that he was in your presence.

You ran along next to him as he walked to your car, and with shaky fingers, you unlocked the trunk for him. Once he dropped his duffle and backpack inside and slammed it closed, he picked you up in his arms. "I love you," he whispered, voice harsh as you whined his name. "But next time, bring the Bronco."

You nodded as you reached for the door handle, and Bradley eased himself down onto the back seat with you straddling his lap. It was such a tight fit, his head was grazing the ceiling, and his knees were digging into the back of the driver's seat. But your lips were on his, and your fingers were tugging at his hair. He was ready to completely lose control. He needed to.

Your wide eyes met his as you slammed the door closed. Without hesitating, he reached between his body and yours and worked at the fly of his jeans. His cock was throbbing painfully now that you were on top of him, your pussy rubbing against the back of his hand. "Jesus, Baby Girl. You're soaking wet."

"I know," you whined before sucking on his bottom lip. "I need you."

Bradley bunched the fabric of your dress up around your waist so he could watch as he thrust himself up to meet you. The relief he felt was immediate as you took all of him like a champ, sinking down around his cock until he bottomed out. You were gasping and moaning into his mouth, and he had known all along that you were the only thing that could satisfy him like this.

When he rolled his hips up, giving you more pressure, you tipped your head back. "Harder, Bradley."

Your voice begging him for more was music to his ears as he wrapped his arm around your back and grabbed your hip. He thrust up again, but you just moaned louder and begged him for more. "Harder," you whispered, your voice breaking beautifully on that single word.

"Sweetheart, I can only do so much here," he grunted, diggin his left knee into the back of the seat and bracing his right foot against the center console as he pistoned up into you. Your squeals of delight as your tits practically bounced free from your dress brought a smile to his face. How were you always even better than what his imagination and memory could provide?

"Harder, Roo," you gasped, your eyes bright and excited as you braced yourself on his shoulders. "Harder, Daddy."

He'd give you anything you wanted right now. Your pussy was tight and perfect and just for him. You were the only thing that could relieve this constant adrenaline rush. And he wanted to be just as good for you, too.

Lips locked with yours, inhaling every sound you made for him, Bradley braced his foot and fucked you has hard as he could. Sweat broke out on his forehead. The back windows started to steam up. You sounded like you were going to cry. But he didn't stop. He just went harder as you begged him for more and more.

"Oh! My god!" you cried out, your hands pulling his hair as you ran your lips along his sweaty face, not quite kissing him and not quite licking him as you came. He was close now, his balls rejoicing in the impending release he could feel building up in his spine.

"Fuck yes, fuck yes," he chanted softly as your voice rang out in the backseat of your piece of shit car. He thrust one more time, and he filled you with his cum as he heard a loud cracking noise.

It took him a few seconds to realize that the center console was no longer pushing back against his right foot, but he was too caught up in you to care much. Your soft giggles were right next to his ear, and the fabric of your dress had fallen back down over his hands which were now softly resting on your hips.

"I love you." Your breath was soft on his neck as you spoke, and the words were laced with a smile. "And I missed you."

Bradley caressed your soft skin in the dim backseat of your car, but he didn't dare move an inch. You felt too fucking good right now. He just held you and closed his eyes, and he could have fallen asleep still inside you when you started to shift. His eyes fluttered open to look at your pretty face as you sat up straighter on his cock and smiled.

"My wife is the prettiest thing I've ever seen," he whispered, and you stroked your fingers along his scarred cheek.

"Let's go home. You can have your birthday presents, and I'll run around and cater to you all day tomorrow."

He couldn't help but laugh as you kissed his forehead. When you eased yourself off of him, his cum dripped out of you and onto his jeans which just made him smile more. He was finally completely sated, and nothing was going to mess with that.

"What the fuck?" you gasped, turned around to face the front seat and nearly kneeing him in the balls in the process. "Bradley! What did you do?!"

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Mission accomplished, and now Roo is home! All of that adrenaline...oof. And what the fuck did he just do to her car? Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw #top gun maverick #I love these two with my whole heart

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