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roosterforme · 1 year ago

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One Night in Vegas | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: After you move in with Bradley, it doesn't take long for you to settle in to your life together. He makes dinner, you eat it. You make a mess, he cleans it up. He proposes in the most endearing way, you say yes. And then both of you spend one perfect night in Vegas.

Warnings: Fluff, swears and smut

Length: 2100 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! This was written for a request.

Check my profile for my masterlist

You were so close to your winter break, you could almost feel it. Your first semester teaching math at San Diego State University had been wild. At times, it was very rewarding, and you didn't want to be anywhere else. At other times, you were holed up in your office, working late into the night grading papers and planning out your lessons.

But the one constant thing had been Bradley.

"Hey, Sugar," he said, knocking softly on the open door of your home office. "Dinner." You stood and practically ran into his arms as you glanced at the office door on which you had written SUGAR LOVES BEER BOY.

"I don't want to grade any more exams," you whined loudly against his solid chest while he laughed.

"I told you not to wait until tonight to finish them."

You glared playfully up at him and tried to escape his arms, but he held you tight. "You're terrible," you informed him. "It's entirely your fault that I'm still working on them. You spent the whole weekend luring me back into our bedroom!"

He smirked at you and said, "It didn't take much convincing, Sugar."

You rolled your eyes and let him lead you out of your office and through the kitchen. "Oh, are we eating in the dining room? What's the special occasion?"

But you stopped in the doorway, heart pounding a million miles per hour as tears sprung to your eyes. "Bradley!" you gasped. There were five white doors lined up on the far wall, and each one had a single word scrawled across it in Bradley's big, tidy handwriting.

SUGAR

WILL

YOU

MARRY

ME?

When you spun to face him, you found him behind you, down on one knee. He looked blurry through your tears, but he was holding a ring between his thumb and index finger. You barely saw it though as you half sobbed and half shouted, "Yes!"

And then you were on top of him on the hardwood floor, straddling his waist and kissing his face while he smiled and held you tight to his chest. "I love you," he managed to say as you smashed your mouth against his. "Wait, wait," he whispered, reaching for your left hand. "Let me put this on you before it gets lost."

You let him slide the ring onto your finger as you said, "I love you so much, Beer Boy." And then he pulled you in for more kisses.

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On New Year's Day, you and Bradley were curled up together on the couch, watching his vintage DVD of The Grateful Dead concert footage and nursing your hangovers.

"What are you going to do all week while I'm at work?" he muttered against your neck.

You shrugged in his arms. "Probably visit you and Nat on base one day and just mess up the house so you have something to complain about."

"Remind me again... why am I marrying you?"

"Because you can't live without me," you whispered as his nose skimmed the sensitive spot behind your ear.

"Oh, yeah," he mumbled.

The five doors on which Bradley had written his proposal message to you were now a permanent feature in the dining room. And you took your dinner in there most nights to enjoy them while you ate, even if Bradley was on base late. Even the ring he got for you, which he was currently spinning around your finger, was perfect.

You didn't want to go back to work at the end of the month without having selected a wedding date. But every time you and Bradley talked about wedding plans, he told you the same thing: "Pick a date, Sugar. Vegas is available 365 days a year."

You wiggled yourself around on the couch until you were facing him, and he sang along softly to the DVD while you closed your eyes. When the song was done, you asked, "How serious are you about Las Vegas?"

He studied your face. "To get married?"

"Mmhmm."

"So serious," he replied, but he was looking at you a little skeptically.

But as a smile broke out on your face, he started kissing your cheeks. "Let's do it, Beer Boy," you told him with a laugh.

And soon he had you pinned underneath him on the couch while he sang Viva Las Vegas by Elvis and unhooked your bra.

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When Bradley got home from work on Friday, the house was a damn mess, and you were looking at him with barely concealed excitement.

"What?" he asked cautiously. And then you started bouncing around. "What happened? Did you hire someone to clean up after you so I don't have to?"

"No!" you exclaimed, rolling your eyes. "I spent the entire day planning our wedding!"

Bradley's heart skipped a beat. "For real? When is it?"

"In two weeks."

He had your sweatpants off in an instant, and he bent you over the dining room table and fucked you while you told him the details.

"It'll be perfect," you moaned as he rocked your body with his thrusts. "Elvis and the Vegas strip and a heart shaped bathtub."

You were everything he had wanted for more than ten years, and the fact that you were letting him have this silly, no nonsense quickie wedding made him so happy. Neither of you had much family, and the only person he really cared to invite was Nat. But she'd give him a pass on missing his big day if she knew going to Las Vegas would make him happy.

"You're perfect, Sugar," he grunted, kissing your neck and eyeing the five doors lining the far wall. "I can't fucking wait, baby."

Bradley started packing that night, laying some of his favorite tropical print shirts on his open suitcase. But as the days wore on, you started to add some cold weather clothing into his bag for him.

"What's that for?" he asked you when he noticed you had folded up his heaviest coat and placed it on top of his short sleeved shirts.

"Our honeymoon."

He raised one eyebrow at you. "Are we not staying in Vegas for that?"

"Nope."

"Where are we going?"

"Not telling."

Bradley looked you up and down as you stood next to the bed in his favorite tie dyed tee shirt. "Do I need to fuck the information out of you?"

Your eyes went wide and your lips parted on a needy gasp. "I'd like to see you try."

After nearly an hour of giving you his hands, mouth and cock, you were a sweaty, gasping mess beneath him.

"Chicago," you managed to say as your eyes drifted closed. "Honeymoon in Chicago."

Bradley collected you in his arms and pulled you beneath the covers with him. You and he had made all those plans for Chicago together before you broke his heart more than ten years ago. And now you were really taking him there. The city where you lived when you were missing him. The city where you got your second tattoo. The city that haunted his dreams when he was twenty two years old and so lonely.

"I love you so much, Sugar," he whispered over and over until you fell asleep in his arms.

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"Aren't we supposed to not see each other before the wedding?" Bradley asked you while you got dressed in the hotel bathroom. "Isn't that a thing?"

You rolled your eyes as you pulled on your white sundress. "I'm sure Elvis won't mind!" you called to him where he was getting ready in the bedroom.

"Speaking of Elvis, we need to be there soon, Sugar!"

Your flight from San Diego had been delayed, and now you were cutting it close for your appointment at the Chapel of Neverending Love next to Caesars Palace. "Grab the wedding bands!" you told him while you fixed your makeup. When you walked out of the bathroom a minute later, Bradley was standing there in a white linen shirt and pants with a huge smile on his face.

"You look beautiful."

Your dress was simple, and your engagement ring was your only accessory. But you did feel pretty, and you knew Bradley was eager to marry you today. "So do you, Beer Boy."

You ran your fingers through his hair and kissed his mustache, and when you got to the chapel, Elvis was already waiting for you. The entire ceremony took fifteen minutes, and that included your wedding photos. And then they were ushering you out for the next couple to come in.

But the two of you were laughing and smiling nonstop as you looked at your rings and made out in front of the chapel.

"I'm ready to take my wife back to that heart shaped bathtub and have my filthy way with her."

But you looked up at his handsome face and shook your head as he held you close. "Not yet. It's time for your wedding gift."

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

Bradley thought he was going to faint from all the excitement. You and he were married. You and he were about to enjoy your wedding night. You and he were flying to Chicago tomorrow.

But then you told him the most magical words: Grateful Dead cover band.

"How the fuck does this day keep getting better?" he asked, kissing your neck and hugging you as you led him down the lit up sidewalk of the Vegas strip. Soon the two of you were surrounded by a bunch of hippies in tie dye. And Bradley knew all the words. And you held him tight the whole time.

"This is our wedding reception!" you told him over the loud music. And then the band started playing the song with the lyrics from your tattoo. The one you got because of Bradley.

You grinned at him as the singer said, "This song is for the newlyweds."

Bradley wrapped you up in his arms and sang to you while you danced with him. "You don't know how easy it is to love you."

You were wound around him, singing the lyrics back to him as well. Perfect. You were perfect. And somehow, you were his.

When the song ended, he tipped his head back amidst all of the applause and cheers. "I fucking love my wife!" he shouted. "Seriously, Sugar! I love you so much!"

And he was still saying those words back at the hotel when you changed into your 'wedding night lingerie' which was just his old Grateful Dead tee shirt.

And he was whispering, "I love you," as he carried you to bed. When you pulled him closer and let him settle against your body between your spread legs, he paused with his lips just barely brushing yours.

"Sugar, I know we didn't have proper wedding vows, because Elvis only let us speak in his song lyrics, so I have a few things I want to tell you now."

You giggled, and said, "But I liked it when you called me your hunka hunka burnin' love."

He ran his hands all over your body and smiled. "Listen, you're definitely that, baby. But you're also the only woman I've ever loved. And I fell in love with you as soon as you spoke to me."

"Bradley," you whispered, running your fingertips along his scarred cheek and neck. Your pretty face was always so open and honest for him, and he loved you for that, especially right now.

"And I've been loving you for eleven years, nearly to the day," he told you, kissing the tip of your nose as your eyes filled with tears. "You changed my life. Twice. And getting a second chance with you is the most important thing that ever happened to me."

You nodded and wrapped your arms around his neck. "I'm so happy I found you again, because I never stopped loving you either. How could I have?"

Bradley pulled your left hand to his lips and kissed your rings. "My vow is to keep loving you just like I did the night I met you in my disgusting fraternity house, and just like I did when we parted ways, and just like I did when you found my again, and just like I do right now. Because I'm better at loving you than I am at doing anything else."

"You are," you promised him as you sniffed. "You're so good at it."

And then Bradley spent the whole night loving you and your body and your voice. And it didn't matter if you and he slept at all, because you had the flight to Chicago for that.

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Thanks for sending in this request! I laughed and I cried. I just love Beer Boy so much! I love how happy they make each other. Thank you @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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