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roosterforme · 2 years ago

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The Younger Kind Part 12 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You and Bradley both know you need to have a conversation and define your relationship. Bradley is excited to get home to you and do just that... and then maybe take you to bed for the rest of the night. But when Meredith crashes the scene, and someone gets hurt, he has to change his plans.

Warnings: Smut, angst, swearing, fluff, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4500 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more!

After Bradley dropped Noah off early at daycare on Friday morning, he had an hour until he needed to be on base. He wanted to get to you as soon as he could, but he stopped to get your coffee on the way.

It was funny, because the baristas really did know him by this point, and they knew what his regular order was. He was probably the only person in the history of the coffee shop who asked to write the names on the cups himself. So he scrawled Princess and peasant on the two cups and handed the marker back to the barista, making sure to leave a tip.

He knew where you lived, because it was very close to Penny's house, and he wondered if you were going to let him inside your place. He parked behind your car and made his way up to the front door of the small cottage that needed a lot of work. It was smaller than his house, which had more than enough room for three people. Bradley juggled both coffee cups into one hand and knocked.

And when you answered the door in your scrubs, fresh from the shower, he knew he was gaping at you. But you were no better as your eyes went a little wide at the sight of him in his flight suit with the sleeves tied around his waist.

"Morning, Princess," he crooned softly, and you were smiling up at him as he handed you your coffee. "Give me your keys, and I'll move Noah's carseat into your car."

"You want to come in first?" you asked, and Bradley slipped willingly inside your living space. Everything had a dreamlike quality; he hadn't quite been able to imagine what your place would be like. When he was your age, he had owned nothing and had no one. Strangely enough, you seemed similar to how he had been, but it didn't come with a sense of sadness. You seemed independent and smart, and as you slipped your hand into his and pulled him further inside, Bradley leaned down to kiss your cheek.

"I would give you a tour, but there's nothing really to see," you told him, shrugging as you looked between your small living room and your small kitchen.

"You gonna show me your secret Skittles stash?" he asked, earning a laugh.

"Absolutely not," you replied. "You seem like the type who would have no self control if you knew the location. You'd eat them all in one sitting."

"That's not true," he promised, running his thumb along the back of your hand. "I'd save you half and you know it." He loved that smug smile on your lips, couldn't get enough, really. Then he looked around a little more, inhaling your sweet scent. He eyed a hoodie with Greek letters hanging on one of the hooks next to the door. "Were you in a sorority?" he asked, running his fingers along the fabric.

With a soft laugh, you shook your head. "Uh, no. That belongs to my ex, Greyson. I keep forgetting to take it over to his apartment and drop it off."

Bradley eyed your pretty face and glossy lips. He knew all about college guys and cute girls, and he didn't want you going anywhere near Greyson's place anymore. "I could drop it off for you, Princess."

You released his hand and let your palm come to rest against his abs while you casually sipped your coffee. "You jealous, Daddy?"

Bradley hauled you against his body with a soft yelp, setting his coffee down on the table followed by yours. "Why don't you show me your bedroom?"

You wrapped your hands around the back of his neck and kissed him softly. "Won't you be late for work?"

"I don't care," he growled, letting his hands slide down your body until he was grabbing your ass and rubbing against you through the thin fabric of your scrubs. You were making soft sounds as you kissed him, and Bradley knew nothing except the desire to take care of you in every way.

"Okay, Daddy." You were leading him up the stairs, holding his hand and looking back at him as you led him into a room with a double bed and a dresser. Everything was tidy and it smelled so fucking good, Bradley was getting harder my the second.

You looked at him expectantly as he started to untie your pants. Fuck. He was thinking about calling out of work and spending the day in your bed, showing you everything he could and would love to do to you.

He licked his lips. "If we make this quick, I don't want you to think it's because I didn't want to spend hours with my face and cock buried inside you."

"Oh," you whimpered before you bit your lip. Bradley slipped his hand inside your underwear. You were soaking wet already, and so sensitive that you shook before him.

He kissed your lips as he let his fingers glide through your silky wetness. Your hands were exploring his shoulders through his undershirt, and Bradley couldn't remember wanting anyone like this before.

"Turn around, baby," he whispered, and you did just as you were told, bending over and bracing your hands on your bed. When he knelt behind you and yanked your pants and underwear down to your feet, he moaned at the gorgeous view he was treated to.

"You okay?" you asked, since he had stopped touching you except to stroke your thighs with his thumbs. Bradley responded by nudging your legs a little further apart and kissing your pussy until his lips and mustache were all wet. You smelled and tasted so good. He wanted to smell like you for the rest of the day. You were whimpering softly, stuttering on his name, and as Bradley stood and unzipped his flight suit a few more inches, he basked in the genuinely needy noises you made.

You met his eyes over his shoulder, and he leaned down to kiss your cheek as he lined himself up with your tight pussy. "I just want to make you feel so good, Princess," he promised, pushing himself deep inside you with a groan. "You're too perfect for anything else."

"Bradley," you whined as he planted his hands next to yours on the bed. He covered your body with his larger one, wanting to protect you and make you feel like you belonged with him even while he fucked you. Maybe especially when he was fucking you.

"Princess," he whispered, kissing along the back of your neck and burying his nose in your hair. The slapping of his thighs against yours was filling the room, and Bradley had to bite his lip against the sensation of how damn tight you felt. He could cum now, he was certain of that, but he wanted to make everything good for you. "I want you to cum for me."

You took Bradley's right hand in yours and kissed his fingertips before guiding his hand so he was touching your clit. He groaned next to your ear and you turned to kiss the corner of his lips. "Touch me?"

Bradley sucked on your neck while he spread you open and circled your clit with his middle finger. You were panting, exposing more of your neck for him to nibble on as you bucked back into his thrusts. But that first squeeze had him seeing stars as you keened. And then you got louder and louder until you were whining Daddy at full volume, back arched as you came for him.

When he finished a moment later, he let his hand drift up your body over your perfect skin until he was stroking you gently through your bra. "I can't wait to see you later tonight, Princess."

"Mmm," you sighed as he withdrew from your body. Then you stood and pulled your clothing back into place, and Bradley knew he would be thinking about your cum soaked underwear until he saw you later and got to do it all over again.

"I think you earned your very own bag of Skittles," you whispered, running your hands along his chest and up to his shoulders.

Bradley took your chin between his thumb and fingers. "I'm curious to know what you're going to give me after I spread you out on my bed later and really take my time."

Your eyes fluttered closed as he kissed you until you whimpered.

"Shit, I need to go, Princess. Let me put the car seat in your car."

You took his hand and led him back downstairs, grabbing a bag of Skittles from a kitchen drawer and handing it to him while he looked at Greyson's hoodie again. "Thanks, baby. You know... I meant it. I can drop that off for you if you want me to." Simply the idea of letting your twenty three year old ex boyfriend know that you were currently getting fucked by him had Bradley grinning.

You pressed your lips together and tucked the Skittles into the pocket of Bradley's flight suit before saying, "That sounds like something a boyfriend would do."

He sucked in a breath, because you were fucking right. Flipping your ex the proverbial bird was boyfriend behavior, and he wanted to do it anyway. As it was, he already wanted you with him and Noah all the time. He knew he needed to talk to you about defining what was going on, because the app was off his phone now, and he'd been wanting you for weeks.

The expectant look in your eyes had him kissing your lips, and you had the audacity to lick his still damp mustache and moan. Would he get in trouble with Maverick if he stayed longer and had you again? But then his phone rang, and he discreetly silenced it as soon as he saw that it was Meredith.

"You and I are going to have a conversation later. Okay, Princess? Now where is your car key?"

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Before you left for class, you bundled up Greyson's hoodie and shoved it into a shopping bag. You'd drop it by his place one day next week, so there was no sense in leaving it hanging around with your other things.

Just seeing Noah's carseat in your backseat had you smiling. And that smile lasted all day while you were in class and filling out information for your clinical research work. You loved being the one who Bradley knew he could trust with his son. You loved spending time with Noah and making snacks for him. You had the All About the Letter N! coloring book tucked in your bag along with your textbooks, and after you took Noah to the park, you and he could color. And then Bradley would come home. And you and he could talk. And then hopefully you would be willingly spreading yourself out on his bed for the rest of the night.

With a soft moan, you pulled up the address of Noah's daycare in your phone's GPS and headed toward your car. It was only twenty minutes away. He would probably be hungry when you got there, which was fine, because you had some ants on logs in a cooler in your trunk just for him.

But the look on Noah's face when you were the one who arrived to pick him up made you smile so much, it hurt your face. "Did you have fun today?" you asked him as he climbed up into your arms and hugged you.

"Yeah! Did you bring a coloring book?"

"I sure did, Noah. And I brought you a snack. Do you want to go to the park and have your snack on a picnic table?"

As he nodded against your shoulder, you decided to just head right for the park in Bradley's neighborhood. You could change out of your scrubs later when you took Noah home for dinner. You brought something cute to change into, but Bradley wouldn't be home until closer to Noah's bedtime anyway. So you parked near the picnic tables, not too far from the playground equipment, and took the cooler out of your trunk before scooping Noah out of his carseat.

"Ready?" you asked, taking his tiny hand in yours as you slipped your sunglasses into place. "Let's have a snack first, and then we can go on the swings."

The playground was not crowded, but the kids that were there were running around, laughing and screaming with parents and grandparents. The picnic tables were empty, and you helped Noah climb up onto one of the benches and kissed his head.

"Have some ants," you told him, lining several carrots up on a napkin for him. You crunched into one as you settled onto the bench beside him. He ate the rest of them, leaving a mess of peanut butter on his face and hands, but you had wipes inside the cooler.

"Were they good?" you asked, laughing as he looked inside the cooler for more as you wiped his cheek clean. "You want more?"

"Yes," he replied, turning toward you with wide eyes, looking so much like his dad that you had to laugh. You could probably cook nonstop for the two of them, and they would just keep eating.

You kissed his forehead and scooped him up from the bench. You tucked your trash inside the cooler along with the ice pack and led him to the swings. "I'll make you more after dinner if you're still hungry."

"Promise?"

"Of course, I promise!" you replied. The breeze was picking up a bit, but it was still a beautiful day. And as you pushed him higher and higher at his request, you smiled at the dad next to you as he chased a toddler around. You briefly thought about what you might be able to cook at Bradley's house, then you sighed realizing you should have grabbed his credit card for groceries just in case.

You inadvertently made eye contact with a woman who was standing alone near the far end of the swings before looking away. She looked familiar, although you were also sure you'd never seen her before. After a few seconds, you could tell out of the corner of your eye that she hadn't moved, so you glanced her way again. She was looking intently at Noah, and you could feel goosebumps tingle along the back of your neck.

The woman took out her phone, and you tried to slow the swing down and block her view of Noah, but then you felt apprehensive about turning your back toward her. The swings were too far away from your car. The picnic tables were blocking your path.

"Let's go down the slide," you told Noah quickly, scooping him out of the swing as he complained and asked you to push him more.

When you turned back to check, the woman had started to walk along the swings, closer to the slide as you helped Noah climb up. Suddenly you felt unsafe. The park was nearly empty. That guy with the toddler was gone now. Your heart rate picked up.

You pushed Noah down the slide and then ran to help catch him at the bottom. And now the woman was creeping even closer with her phone out.

"Again!" he chanted. With a deep breath, you walked him back to the ladder, helped him climb, and then made a quick decision. You had your phone and keys in your pocket, and you could leave the cooler behind. When you scooped him up at the bottom of the slide, you wrapped your arms around him and made a quick dash toward your car.

It was a good distance away, and as soon as you started moving, you saw her moving too. She was rushing toward you now, but you had a clear shot at the parking lot. Your heart was thudding in your chest, and the feeling of panic that washed over you had you squeezing Noah closer.

"What's wrong?" he asked, looking concerned as you ran as fast as you could with him in your arms.

"It's okay," you gasped, glancing back to see that she was still right there. And now she was calling out to you. Ignoring what she was saying, you unlocked your car as you approached, nearly tripping on the curb as you flung your back door open. Your sunglasses slipped off, and you stepped on them, crunching them under your sneaker.

"Wait!" the woman called out. "It's okay!"

You shoved Noah a little roughly into his carseat, tightening the straps with one hand as you glanced over your shoulder and slammed the back door shut.

"Shit!" she called out, also nearly tripping over the curb. "I won't hurt him!"

You needed to get in the car, but as you reached for your door, you tripped and landed on the pavement, and the searing pain that shot through your arm had you gasping. But you didn't have time to check yourself as this insane woman closed in on you.

"Stay the fuck away from me!" you screamed, realizing your pepper spray was sitting in your cup holder. You opened your door and climbed in, locking the doors and cranking the engine to life just as she approached Noah's window and cupped her hands to look inside your car. "You psycho!" you cried out, slamming your car into drive and peeling out of the parking lot.

You drove in the opposite direction of Bradley's house in case she tried to follow, but you didn't see anyone else pull out of the parking lot. When you glanced in your mirror at Noah, he looked like he was going to cry.

"It's okay!" you tried to reassure him, but your own voice was shaking. "Let's sing." After you cleared your throat a few times, you led him in the dinosaur song that you and he made up last month, and that seemed to cheer him up and calm him down.

You drove miles out of your way before you started to head back to Bradley's house. When you finally pulled into his driveway, you noticed that your right arm was scraped up and dripping blood, but at least Noah was safe. And as you carried him inside, firmly locking the door and leaning against it, you realized who that must have been.

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

Bradley was exhausted. He and Nat had been working with the simulation for hours. It was late, and he was starving, and he decided to skip the locker room and head right home. He wanted to see you and Noah, wanted to talk to you. If he didn't at least try to figure out what was happening with you, he was going to lose his mind.

He wanted you. Noah already loved you. Of course, you'd be crazy to actually want to date Bradley, but he figured he should at least try. Test those waters with you. He couldn't ever remember being nervous that a woman might just want him around to hook up with. Although he supposed he could just keep doing that with you, if that's all you really wanted.

Bradley's stomach was growling as he tied his sleeves around his waist again. The sun had already set, and as he climbed into the Bronco, he scrolled through missed calls from Meredith and texted you.

Be home soon.

You didn't respond, but his house wasn't too far from base, and you were probably playing with Noah. Maybe you'd be wearing your crown when he got back. Maybe you had made dinner. Maybe you'd kiss him when he got there. He found himself driving a little faster, smiling when your car in his driveway came into view.

But as soon as he unlocked the door and strolled into the kitchen, he knew something was wrong. Your back was tense, and you were coloring with your left hand. Noah was in his pajamas, and when he looked at Bradley his eyes lit up. But Bradley's gaze fell to your arm, and he rushed over to you.

"What happened?" he asked, gently taking you by the wrist and examining you. "Tell me."

You looked at him, lips parted, but you remained silent for a beat. "I fell."

"You fell?" he asked, wondering why your voice sounded so strange.You looked tired and worried, but Noah was okay. And your arm looked like it would heal eventually. "Baby, tell me what happened." He was kneeling on the floor next to your seat, and you nodded slightly as he kissed your cheek.

"After Noah gets in bed," you whispered. "I'll tell you."

"Sure," Bradley replied, still worried as he scooped his son up and took him to the bathroom to brush his teeth. When he got him tucked in bed, Bradley kissed his forehead. "Go right to sleep, bub. I love you."

Noah looked at him with wide eyes as he turned on the nightlight. Bradley rubbed his shoulder as his eyes finally started to drift closed, and then he was dashing back out to the kitchen. You were washing dishes with one good arm, and Bradley reached around you to take the plate out of your hand and turn the faucet off.

"Hey, don't worry about that, Princess," he whispered, turning you gently to face him. "What happened?"

You finally met his eyes. He pressed his lips to yours, but you didn't return the kiss. Bradley pulled away and examined your arm again. He needed to get you cleaned up, get the dirt out of the wound. "Will you talk to me?" he asked.

You cleared your throat and asked, "What does Meredith look like?"

Bradley cocked his head a bit but described his ex to you. The look in your eyes was making him nervous as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. "I have a picture of her," he told you, scrolling through a photo album. "She's in the first picture I ever took of Noah. So I saved it." When Bradley held his phone out for you, he saw you swallow hard before meeting his eyes again.

"I took Noah to the park," you whispered. "After I picked him up from daycare. And there was a woman there. She kept looking at Noah. Looked like she was trying to take his picture."

"Shit," Bradley gasped, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

You nodded. "She made me nervous. Really upset me. So I grabbed Noah and ran for my car. After I got Noah in, I tripped and fell when I was trying to get the driver's door open. I guess I fucked up my arm pretty good. But I sped out of the parking lot away from her. Away from Meredith."

You had protected Noah. From his own mother. What the hell was Meredith doing?

Bradley pushed your hair back away from your face and examined your eyes. You looked upset but not like you were in shock. He let his fingers drift down to your neck and found your pulse was slightly elevated but not erratic. "I'm okay," you told him softly. "Promise."

He kissed your forehead, inhaling your scent. "Let me get your arm cleaned up, Princess."

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

You sat on the edge of Bradley's bathtub as he knelt on the floor and very gently and patiently cleaned your arm. You watched silently as he used tweezers to remove bits of asphalt from your skin before guiding you back so he could rinse your arm.

"You would make a good nurse," you muttered, and he glanced up at you.

"Well, that means a lot coming from you," he replied, kissing your fingers before he guided your arm back under the water. "I'm sure you would have done a better job if it wasn't your dominant arm."

You just shrugged as he carefully dried you off and wrapped your arm up in gauze. Neither of you were smiling. He stood and gently helped you to your feet as well, and you buried your face into his warm neck and chest, trying to hold back tears. Because you knew without a doubt that the conversation you and Bradley were supposed to have tonight wouldn't be happening now.

"Princess," he whispered, and your eyes fluttered closed as his mustache brushed your cheek. "I need to call Meredith."

You nodded, inhaling the smell of sweat and jet fuel from his skin. You liked to think he had skipped the showers so he could rush home to see you. You liked to think he missed you as much as he missed Noah when you weren't around. You wanted to hold onto that.

"I understand," you promised, letting your fingers settle on his abs for a beat before you turned to leave the bathroom. You felt like crying as you sat on the couch and tried to clumsily put your shoes on. But Bradley helped you, looking up at you with a serious expression.

"Thank you."

"For what?" you asked. All you had managed to do was get hurt and turn into an emotional mess over knowing Meredith had been the one to scare you at the park. You felt like an idiot.

"Thank you for protecting Noah, Princess," he replied, rubbing soft circles in your calves through your scrubs. "You don't know what that means to me."

It was hard to believe that earlier this morning, you and he had been fucking in your bedroom. You leaned forward to kiss him, and he reached up to pull you gently to the floor onto his lap. Very carefully, Bradley helped you wrap your arms around his neck, and he kissed you for a while.

When he pressed his forehead to yours and stood with you in his arms, you cautiously asked him, "Will you call me?"

"Of course."

Bradley walked you out to your car and retrieved Noah's carseat. Then he kissed you goodbye as he made you promise to text him when you got home.

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Bradley sat on his couch, running his fingers through his hair. Meredith was apparently hanging around his neighborhood. You got hurt. Noah could have been hurt. Bradley needed to figure this out.

As soon as your text came through, he sighed.

Babysitter: I'm safe at home. I miss you already. You and Noah.

Instead of responding to you like he wanted to, Bradley squared his shoulders and looked at his missed calls. When he tapped on Meredith's name, she answered almost immediately, and Bradley's anger flared inside him.

"Well," she said with a laugh, "I figured I had your attention now. Thank you so much for calling me back, Bradley."

"Meredith," he muttered through clenched teeth. "What do you want?"

"I just want to talk to you. In person. I'll come by in the morning."

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She's going to come by in the morning!! Ahhh! Enjoy your babysitter fic which you help me write, @beyondthesefourwalls And thank you @mak-32 !

PART 13

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vivwritesfics · 6 months ago

Note

If your taking requests could you write Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x reader

Rooster meeting a girl a few weeks before top gun and hooking up with her a few times (no actual smut)

And later on sees her in top gun and she is the first female pilot he meet (if possible for her callsign to be Chaos) and walking up to her before saying something like "you got me trained like a damn dog"

< based on this tiktok: https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGeaGGyMR/>

I am so sorry I've had this in my inbox for so fucking long, been trying to find a way to... write this, I suppose. I'll be honest, this turned out very different to the request but I couldn't find a way to make it this exact way. I hope you still like it!

They met eyes across The Hard Deck. It was both of their first times at Top Gun, that fundamental last night before they started.

(Now, I must note that this was before Penny bought The Hard Deck. It looked different to what it did when she and Bradley later returned for the uranium mine mission, but it still served the same purpose)

She sipped her drink and he sipped his beer, wiping the foam away from his moustache. Shit, he was hot. She watched as he whispered something to his wingman and approached.

If it had been the eighties, she would have lost that loving feeling. But it wasn't the eighties anymore, and Bradley had long since given up using his dad and Mavericks pickup tricks (gave up when Mav pulled his papers, actually).

He didn't sing to her, did some good old fashioned flirting.

It was a good thing he was cute, she thought with a grin. She held out her hand, signalling that it had worked. "Chaos," she said.

He placed his hand into her own and shook it. "Rooster," he replied, exchanging callsigns.

Chaos and Rooster. Chaos she was indeed. Chaos they both were. Bradley couldn't help but follow her, his hand in hers as she led him out of The Hard Deck. His wingman whooped and hollered at him as he left, following her out to her car.

She had debating staying on base or renting a place of her own for a month. Now that she had Bradley kissing her in the back of her car, she was so glad that she rented a place of her own. The way his lips trailed down her neck, had her moaning so slowed anybody outside of the car could hear.

She got him back to her rented place, got him into her rented bed, and didn't let him leave it until the next morning. He had her awake for most of the night, absolutely railing her (there is very little else I can say about it, but the burn on his moustache was, wow. Her legs had never shaken like that before, but that is a story for another day).

He left before she got up, making his way back to his own place, to his baby (the Ford Bronco).

They'd given each other their callsigns, knew each other by no other name. It shouldn't have been a surprise to Bradley when she walked in and took a seat in front of him.

"Shit," he hissed under his breath.

But there she was, Chaos. Bradley's cheeks were flaming any time the two had to interact.

But Chaos? She didn't stop flirting. And Bradley couldn't stop himself from falling for it. Time and time again he ended up in her bed. Neither much minded it. It didn't become rare to see his Ford Bronco parked outside.

But then they were shipping out. One last night at The Hard Deck, drinking together. It hadn't quite struck to the two that this was their last night being together.

If she wanted anything that night, Bradley was getting it from the bar. They didn't hide any sort of... relationship (or whatever it was) that night, with Bradley kissing her whenever he walked over to pass her the beer he'd gotten to her.

"Damn," said Natasha as she sipped her drink. She was the one watching the clock, watching for the minute it got within twelve hours of them flying. "You've got him trained like a damn dog."

It was a rather sad thought. Not that she had him 'trained like a damn dog', but that soon, they'd bee moving on from Top Gun and leaving each other behind. There was no telling where they'd end up and whether they'd be able to stay in touch.

God, she couldn't tear up here. She concentrated on one spot on the ground, just trying to keep herself from crying.

"Chaos?" Something touched her shoulder, a cold bottle of beer. Bradley held it in front of her face and she gladly took it.

They'd be okay. For this last night, they'd be okay.

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aworldinsideaperson · 1 month ago

Text

Loss-Robert “BOB” Floyd

Pairing: Robert “Bob” Floyd x wife!reader

Plot: The worst day of Bob’s life.

Warnings: Critical injuries, medical themes (probably many inaccuracies), Angst, sadness, potential for death, car accident, talk of Carol Bradshaw’s death.

Word Count: 2,967

Robert Floyd had few fears. If asked, he would say the list of things that scared him was rather short. Spiders, talking to new people, and death. Though as he walked in circles around the hospital waiting room he wondered if the only thing that truly terrified him would come to pass.

He couldn’t tell if it had been seconds or hours since he arrived, a phone call he never expected to receive putting him in auto pilot; one moment standing beside his friends smiling to being in the faux comforting waiting area trying to piece together the words the doctor had uttered.

Accident. Bleeding. Severe. Surgery. Everything we can. Everything we can. Everything. We. Can. Bob Floyds one, true, debilitating fear coming to fruition. The loss of his wife.

He was hardly aware of his surroundings, pacing in a never ending circle, determined to walk a hole into the floor of this hospital. One by one his friends came, calmly laying a hand on his shoulder and taking a seat to watch Bob’s cyclical parade of one.

Phoenix stood from her seat, placing a hand on the man’s shoulder as he came to a stop. “Bob, why don’t you sit down.”

His head shook violently as the tears came to his eyes and his breath caught as he stuttered quickly. “I- I- I can’t. I can’t shit- sit c- c- cause they’re gonna- gonna be out any- ugh- any second and ugh they’re um- they’re gonna - they’re gonna tell me she’s okay and- and I- I just- I just- I gotta be ready. Cause- Cause if I'm standing they’ll know who to talk to and- and there won’t be any kind of um mix up with- with who to- who to talk to. So I’m gonna stand and I’m gonna wait and- and she’s gonna be fine. She’s gonna be fine and- and- and- and-” He could feel his heart beginning to race again and he found it difficult to get a breath as the panic began to rise in his chest once again.

Nat took his hand and squeezed to tightly in hopes of grounding him as she spoke gently. “What if I stand for a little while, you sit, take a breath, and I’ll stand. So they know.”

Looking into her eyes Bob took a deep breath and nodded. “Thank you.” He said softly as he squeezed her hand and moved back to the seat Natasha had vacated.

Bob sat between Bradley and Jake, taking a deep shaking breath, and Natasha stood. She took up post for her backseater, pacing in his place; half an hour she paced before Bradley took her place, then Jake after him. A change of guard every thirty minutes as each of his coworkers, his friends, his family, took turns standing and pacing and waiting. His people being there for him as much if not more than his wife.

As Bob stands, ready to let Maverick have the seat he’s vacating is when news finally comes. Striding toward the naval group was a tall man with a stoic look. “Mister Floyd?” Feeling as though the air has caught in his chest once again Robert Floyd only nods and takes a single step closer.

He tries to keep his head high with confidence as the man before him stands rigid and places his hands behind his back, his face still set without emotion. Bob is sure he’s about to get the worst news of his life, quickly playing out if anyone would be fast enough to stop him from walking into traffic. Then the doctor’s lips start to move.

“My name is Doctor Michaels, would you like to go somewhere more private?”

Robert Floyd looks around the room, filled with some of the people who cared about him most, people who’d kept him alive, people he’d kept alive, his family, and he shook his head as tears began to well up in his eyes.

Nodding, Dr. Michaels continued. “Your wife is on her way out of surgery and into recovery. Making it through the surgery was tough but she did make it. She is by no means out of the woods and I don’t want to give you a false sense of hope but you can come back and stay with her while we monitor her and get a room ready.”

Dr. Michaels began to walk away, leading Bob toward a double door as he continued to speak. “Over the next few hours we can discuss the extent of her injuries and what recovery may look like going forward.” He stopped beside a clear glass wall and Bob averted his eyes, keeping his focus on the doctor as he continued to speak. “She’s not out of the woods but making it through the surgery should be seen as a positive step.” Reaching out and placing a hand on Bob’s shoulder Dr. Michaels attempted a reassuring smile of sorts. Peaking for the first time at his badge he saw a yellow line across the bottom and the word ‘Resident’ in bold script. He wondered if this was the first time he’d had to deliver poor news. If the worst day of Bob’s life was a sort of milestone for the young man before him. “You can head in whenever you’re ready.” Squeezing his shoulder Dr. Michaels turned away and continued to walk down the hall.

Squeezing his eyes tightly Bob breathed deeply and finally turned to the door the opened automatically before him. Stepping inside the room he was greeted to a barely lit room, two nurses moving beside his wife tending to her. Tucking a blanket around her legs, hanging bags from her IV pole, quietly finishing and moving from her bedside. Both nurses gave him a small, sad smile as the left the room.

He couldn’t bring himself to move. He couldn’t bring himself to look up from the floor. The beeping. The pumping of the ventilator. He wasn’t ready to attach the surrounding sounds with an image. It feels like an eternity before he feels he can look at her. She doesn’t look like herself. Hooked up to machines, bags of medication dripping into her body, bruises and cuts marking every inch of skin he can see. It’s not until he sniffles that he realizes the tears he’s been bottling for hours have finally broken free. He moves slowly across the room, sitting in the chair beside the hospital bed. He reaches out to brush his fingers over her hand, fingers then slipping into her palm and drawing patterns on the soft skin. The only place that seems to be free from cuts.

Letting out a breath he trains his eyes on the face of the woman he’s loved for so long. “Hello there Mrs. Floyd, it’s me, Mr. Floyd your husband. I’m here darlin’.

Hours had passed, the sun long since set when a hand was once again placed on his shoulder. His fingers still drawing on the skin of his wife’s palm as he looked up at several staff members shuffling into the room. The woman holding his shoulder spoke gently. “We’re going to transfer her to the ICU now. The process of moving patients can be overwhelming for family so if you’d like to come with me I have some paperwork for you to work on; you can it back to the waiting room and I’ll come get you when she’s all settled?”

Bob shook his head, turning back to look at the woman he loved. “I’d much rather stay.”

“Truthfully Mr. Floyd-” She began before being cut off by Bob.

“It’s Lieutenant. Sorry she’s always on me about correcting that.” He didn’t have a habit of interrupting people. In fact if his mother had been in the room she would have attempted to scold him like he was a little boy again. But his wife was always addamet about correcting his title. Said he worked hard for it and deserved to have it recognized. She’s been so proud of his promotion she’d moaned lieutenant for hours that night.

“Lieutenant Floyd.” She began again. “Truthfully, she’s due for more sedation and there is a probability that she’s come out of it enough to experience some significant pain during the transfer. You need to take care of yourself too and you don’t need to experience that. Please. Let me come get you when we have her all settled.” She reached for the hand he had dangling over the armrest and squeezed it in her own. “I promise you if things take a turn in the time you’re away I will come and get you quicker than a flash.”

Bob looked into her eyes and as his shoulders relaxed he nodded. He squeezed wife’s hand once more, and whispered that he’d be right back as he kissed her forehead. Then he turned from the bed, following the woman out of the room and towards the nurse’s station. With a sad smile she hands him a stack of papers, a clipboard, and a pen.

“Here is that. Take your time with it. There is a lot of information and questions in there so don’t feel like you have to do it all at once.” Turning around she reached for a large opaque bag with the hospital’s name and logo printed on the front and handed it to him. “Here are her belongings. Most of the clothing was unsalvageable but everything is in there except…” Her eyes darted around the space in front of her as she searched for something. “Aha! This is the jewelry she was wearing when she came in, including her wedding ring.” Placing the small bag in his hand and wrapping his fingers around it as she squeezed his hand tightly. A feeling of comfort passed through him as she held it tightly. “I’ll come get you the moment she’s settled.”

Looking into her eyes Bob took her in for a moment. A short woman, early 50’s, graying brown hair and deep brown eyes radiating kindness. She reminded him of his mother and tears came to his eyes again. “Thank you.” His words hardly audible.

“Do you need help finding the waiting room?”

Shaking his head Bob slipped the small bag into his pocket. “No, I remember. Thank you ma’am.” She nodded and Bob turned to walk back to the room where his nightmare started.

Walking back through the double doors he looked up to find the waiting room still half full of faces he knew and a gentle smile came to his face. “What’re you guys still doing here?”

Mickey answered. “We wanted to be here in case either of you needed anything.”

Shaking his head Bob found two empty seats, placing the contents of his arms in one and plopping down heavily into the other. “You didn’t need to do that. It’s been hours.”

Natasha moved to the other side of her friend, draping an arm around his shoulder and pulling him in for an awkwardly angled hug. “We needed to be here for you. How is she?”

“Not good. Critical condition they say. They’re transferring her to the ICU and they’ll come get me when she’s settled.” He leaned forward, his forearms on his knees as he closed his eyes and tried to focus his breathing.

“How are you?” Jake asked, today one of the few times he’d been truly kind to Bob.

Looking up at him, his body still resting forward, Bob let out a huff that was reminiscent of a laugh. “I’ll let you know when I figure it out.” Leaning back again, eyes trained on the floor as he spun his wedding ring around his finger. “You guys should head home, it’s late and I’m sure we’ll still be here in the morning.”

“At least let us see her. Let her know that we’re here for her and that we’re with you. Whatever either of you need, we’re here.” Maverick insisted.

Looking around the room, the eyes of his friends trained on him as they all nodded in agreement so Bob nodded too. Tears filling his eyes at the love surrounding him. “Thanks guys.”

For 45 minutes the group sat in near silence; startling at every opening door or foot step rushing past. When the woman from earlier came into the room Bob made sure to take note of her name tag. Elizabeth. Social worker. She smiles warmly as she approaches Bob, taking note of the gaggle of people following along as they arrive on the 8th floor. Trekking down the hall in a single file line until they reach room 875. Directly across from the nurse’s station. Bob grabs Nat’s hand and squeezes tightly as the two of them walk into the room, everyone else lining up against the wall to wait.

He can hear Nat suck in a breath but to Bob it’s a better sight than before. The room is a little brighter, there’s a tv playing the Food Network attached to the wall, a wall of windows and they’d turned off the sound of the monitors so at least he wouldn’t have to hear the incessant beeping though the sound of the compressing ventilator still filled the room. His wife is still covered in bruises and cuts, but she looks like she’d been cleaned up. Most of the dried blood was gone, and it looked as though someone had at least attempted to smooth her hair. Sitting in the hard recliner beside her bed, Bob took her hand again and the tension in his shoulders eased. “Let everyone know they can come in when they’re ready.” Bob didn’t move as she left the room and returned with their flock.

For several minutes everyone just stood watching. Watching as her chest moved up and down. Looking at a woman whose face they knew but the could hardly recognize in the current state. Then slowly but surely they stepped up to her bedside one by one.

Fanboy taking her hand and whispering a prayer before kissing it and making a sign of the cross.

Rueben with a crack in his voice assured her that she’d be okay as he pressed his lips to the top of her head.

Jake had tears welling in his eyes as he wrapped his arms around Bob from behind and squeezed him tightly. “I live the closest. Call me if things change.”

Coyote stayed by her feet, his face hard as he gently patted her ankle and quickly left the room.

Maverick kissed her forehead, telling Bob he’d be back in the morning.

The last three in the room, Bob, Nat, and Bradley. The three of them sat silently for some time; Natasha in the chair opposite Bob and Bradley on the couch built into the wall beneath the windows. Eventually as the clock signaled the end of one day and beginning of the next Natasha stood, pressed a kiss to her good friend’s head and turned to Rooster.

“You comin’ Roo?”

“Actually Bob, if you don’t mind, I think I’d like to stay.”

Giving Bradley a sad smile he let his head fall to the side as it shook. “You really don’t have to do that Brad.”

“I want to.” He assured.

Bob nodded and Phoenix said her goodbyes, hugging her backseater extra tightly and then leaving the men alone in the room.

Bob sighed, his hand still gripping tightly to his wife’s. He leaned back in the chair and turned his head to face Rooster. “So, why’d you want to stay?”

Bradley leans back slowly, running a hand through his hair as he looks up at the ceiling. “Um, my mom was in the hospital when she died. She had been doing pretty good and we were expecting her to get out soon so no one was there. Well, no one but me. One second we were laughing and talking about going on a road trip before I left for college and the next,” His eyes were now trained on the ground, emotions surfacing that he rarely let others see. “Well the next she was gone.” Standing up, Rooster took the seat on the other side of the bed and took her hand in his. “I was alone when my mom died and I know that Mrs. Floyd here is going to make a full recovery, but on the off chance that I’m wrong, you don’t deserve to be here alone.” Bradley looked over at Bob who’s tears were once again finally spilling over.

“Can I have a few minutes alone with her right now?”

“Yeah. I’ll go find us something to snack on, gotta be a halfway decent vending machine around here.” He stood and walked out of the room, the door closing behind him.

Bob sits in silence at first. His head devoid of thoughts as he watches his wife’s chest move up and down in time with the only sound in the room. He’s holding her hand, remembering the very first time their hands touched all the way back in the 7th grade. How her fingers had brushed against his so softly as they sat side by side in the library. It happened six times before Bobby swallowed his fear and took hold of her hand firmly. Their hands had been so small then but he remembered them fitting like puzzle pieces when their fingers interlocked. Their hands had grown but they always managed to still fit together perfectly.

Bob closed his eyes tight, lifting her hand to his lips he pressed a kiss to the back of it before he looked at his wife’s face and spoke firmly. “I don’t know if you can hear me baby, but if you can, don’t give up on me.”

#bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #tgm fanfiction #tgm fic #bob floyd imagine #robert bob floyd #robert bob floyd x reader #bob floyd fanfiction #bob floyd fic #tw: surgery #tw: medical #tw: injury #tw: accident

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chiaraanatra · 8 months ago

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Life as We Know It | Part 2

Summary: You and Seresin unexpectedly become the caretakers of Bradley and Natasha's baby girl, Nicole. Can you two put your disdain for one another aside for Nic's sake? Based on the movie "Life as We Know It"

Warnings: Parental/character death, mentions of cops, CPS, & social work, angst, arguments, and swearing. This chapter is a sad one. no use of Y/N. Later chapters will contain mentions of parental death! Always check chapter warnings!

Word Count: 2.7k

AN: Here is part two! Thank you for all the support on part one! I hope you all enjoy!

《 part 1 || part 3 》《 m.list || ao3 》

You vividly remember that God-forsaken phone call.

The day itself had been good, productive even. When you picked up the phone there was a chipper tone in your voice "Hello?"

The man on the other line had a very no-nonsense tone when he said your name.

Your brow furrowed, "Speaking."

The next words that came out of his mouth caused you to drop the phone. Before you knew it, you were in your car on the way to the police station.

The trek to the station was a blur, it was as if you closed your eyes and once they opened, you were there, walking up to the desk hoping to find some answers. Or, even better, that this was some sick joke. "I'm looking for Officer Kerner."

An older man in a uniform walked up to you, a sorrowful look on his face that told you everything you needed to know. "We found your name and number in her phone under emergency contacts. Now, I know this must be a lot to take in, but we need information about the nearest next of kin. Can you supply those?" His voice held a serious tone, he had a job to do.

"Umm... Both of their parents are gone, but I- I think there are some cousins..." God, this isn't actually happening.

Officer Kerner’s tone softened, "Would you like to sit down, ma'am?"

"No..." that’s when it hit you, "Oh God! They have a baby girl, Nicole Bradshaw... she wasn't... was she- was she in-" You couldn't bring yourself to ask the question.

"No. She was in the care of a babysitter. She's okay. We've placed her with CPS for the night."

"CPS...? Child Protective Services?" There was unmistakable confusion in your voice.

"They handle cases like these." When that didn't seem to ease your confusion, he continued. "Orphaned children."

Your hand covered your mouth as tears streamed down your face. Your best friend and her husband were gone, and their daughter was God knows where with some family probably scared out of her wits...

You were pulled out of your thoughts by the doors opening behind you. When you turned you were met with the sight of Seresin. You could tell by the look on his face that he knew little about what had happened.

"Seresin..." You walked over to him with open arms, tears streaming down your cheeks. You couldn't help but bury your face in his chest. Something was calming about the way he gently stroked your hair.

Seresin was at a loss but felt he needed to be strong for you. He wasn't sure where this feeling was coming from, but he continued to supply your comfort while the officer gave him a similar explanation as to what had occurred.

After meeting at the police station, the two of you went back to your apartment to make some phone calls to try and figure out what to do next. You had been on the phone for what felt like hours.

Jake walked around your apartment becoming acquainted with your space and making little observations about your life. In the three years since you met, he realizes he's only seen you in the context of gatherings, never really on your own. The more he thought about it, he really didn't know you at all.

You were pacing, practically yelling at the phone, unnerved as to why you couldn't just pick Nic up tonight. When you got off the phone you fell onto the couch, "They know nothing and won't know anything until morning..." You let out a heavy sigh, "Outside of that, their lawyer wants to meet with us at their house to go over their will..."

He walked closer to you, finding himself seated on the arm of the couch next to you. "It's gonna be okay. She’s safe and we’ll know more in the morning." He gave your arm a little squeeze.

A small smile made its way to your face, and you pushed him a little. “You’re being too nice... It's weird…”

Seresin couldn’t help but chuckle a little at your statement. You two were usually bickering and teasing one another constantly but he knew this wasn’t the time. You two had been through too much in the last few hours.

He looked at his watch and then back at you. “You gonna be all right if I head home? I’ll meet you at their house in the morning for the meeting with the lawyer. Hopefully, we can figure out what’s gonna happen.”

“Yeah, that sounds like a good idea.” You watched as he walked towards your apartment door. Before making his exit, you called out to him, “Thank you Seresin.”

He gave you a nod before making his way out the door.

The next day, neither you nor Seresin had heard anything about Nic. Rather you were both sitting at Nat and Bradley's dining room table talking to their lawyer.

You couldn’t help but note how stereotypical the man looked. Navy suit, round glasses, slicked back salt and pepper hair. Even his voice held a certain air that screamed ‘lawyer.’ If you were being honest, you couldn't even remember the man's name.

He crossed his arms on the table looking at you both. “This is... obviously a rough time for you both and I'm sure you must have questions."

"Yes," you interrupted without a second thought. "What about Nic, what will happen to her?"

"Yes, Nicole. We have already made arrangements for her transfer. The foster family will bring her to CPS. The social worker feels like she will do best adjusting in her own environment. So, she needs to be picked up and brought here." The man shuffled through some of the papers that were strewn across the dining room table.

"Okay." Seresin nodded his head, "Who does that?"

The lawyer looked at you both in surprise, "I'm sorry. Did they not talk to you about their guardianship arrangements...?"

"No." You and Seresin said in unison before looking at each other.

The man rubbed his temples and shook his head a little. "Alright, well. When preparing their will we discussed, in the unlikely event that they should both pass, whom they would like to appoint as Nicole's guardians. They named you. Both of you.

"What?" Your voices once again rang in unison.

"They picked us? Both of us together?" Seresin’s voice was filled with disbelief.

"I know this is probably not how you wanted to start a family."

"There's been a misunderstanding. We are not together or anything.” You tried to wrap your head around what was being said but the pieces weren’t coming together.

“Yeah! They tried to set us up on a blind date years ago and we never even made it to the restaurant," Seresin let out a breathy, nervous laugh.

You rolled your eyes at the reminder of your first encounter with Seresin, “I don't even know if you'd call it a date. He was an absolute dick; he made a booty call right in front of me before we even left for the restaurant.”

"Look," the lawyer interrupted. "I know this is overwhelming. Believe me, I tried to convince them not to go through with it, but they chose you. Now, there are options. Firstly, you can say no. Keep in mind this is a child, not some puppy you got for Christmas that you can take back to the shelter if things don't work out. This is a big commitment."

"Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God." Seresin was spiraling.

You took a deep breath and cleared your throat. "Options. What kind of options?"

"Yes, well there are some cousins. It's possible that one of them would be willing to take guardianship."

Your mind spun with ideas and before you could fully flesh any of them out, you spoke "What if one of us, on our own, chose to honor Nat and Bradley's wishes? Or both of us, hypothetically?"

The lawyer gave you a look that said he hoped your hypothetical was not one you were actually considering based on how he saw the two of you interact. "They named you so it's just a matter of setting up a court hearing to grant you custody, that's about it."

Your mind was spinning, and you couldn't hear a word the man in front of you was saying. Something about finances? Maybe this was a dream and at any moment you would wake up. You closed your eyes, squeezing them shut as hard as you could, but when you opened them, the same sight sat before you.

The lawyer continued, "But Iet's not get ahead of ourselves. Okay? Let's just focus on Nicole."

"Yes." You nodded.

"Right." Seresin's voice cracked ever so slightly.

"I suggest the two of you move in here in the interim. Again, the social worker thinks Nicole will do best in her own environment.

"You want us to live together?" Disbelief rang through the voice of the man sitting next to you.

The lawyer shook his head a little, "Yes, just for now. Again for Nicole. Until you both decide what you wanna do.

Nat what have you gotten me into...?

You felt like you were going to pass out or throw up. At the rate you were going, both seemed likely.

The two of you walked up to the desk of CPS. Seresin stood next to you. He looked stoic but you could see something in his eyes. Apprehension? Fear? You weren't sure what it was, but it was slowly breaking his strong facade.

You swallowed thickly before speaking. "Hello, we're here to pick up Nicole Carole Bradshaw?"

The woman at the desk nodded before getting up and rifling through some paperwork. You took a shaky breath and Seresin placed a soft hand on the small of your back. You weren't sure what to make of this softer side of Seresin, but your mind didn't allow you to deviate further into those thoughts. You were here for Nic, for Nat, for Bradley...

The woman placed some papers on the counter. "I need both of you to sign here, here, and here." Once signed she directed you to sit in a small waiting area, "She'll be out shortly."

'Shortly' felt like a lifetime, but, in actuality, it was no more the 5 minutes or so. Seresin was the first to lay eyes on her, patting your shoulder, "There she is."

You both practically ran to meet the social worker who carried an exhausted-looking Nic in her arms, "Hi. sweet girl." Nic was placed in your arms. The little girl yawned, tears coming to her eyes. "Oh, honey... " When Nic started to cry, your heart broke. “I know. I know…" you placed a soft kiss on her forehead.

“Hey pretty girl, look what I got.” Seresin waved her favorite bunny plush in front of her, but it did little to quell the girl's cries.

She reached out for Seresin, small, grabby hands trying to find comfort in the tall man. You quickly took notice, "You want Uncle Sese? Here..." You passed the little girl over and her wails were quelled. He did have a way of calming her quickly. You looked at the sleepy, teary-eyed girl in his arms. She looked so much like Nat and Bradley. You couldn't help the tears that gathered in your own eyes, "Okay. Umm, we should get her home."

By the time you got back to the house, it was after 9. You had tried to put Nic to bed, but once you set her down, she would start crying. So, there you were, sitting on the living room couch bouncing Nic on your leg as she chewed the ears of her stuffed bunny.

Seresin was pacing about the room. At the rate he was going, you thought he might pace a trench into the rug, “They definitely didn't think this through."

Your mind was in another place, "We need to establish a sleep schedule... That's very important." Nat had always talked about sleep schedules when she was pregnant, but you weren't sure if those ever panned out.

"What?" Seresin looked at you in disbelief. How could you be talking about sleep schedules at a time like this?

His tone brought you out of your thoughts, "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

He rolled his eyes, "I said they didn't think this through. Did Nat say anything to you? Or Brad?"

"They didn't tell me anything..." You let out a sigh looking down at a still fussy Nic bouncing on your leg.

"I'm sorry, this is not the kind of thing you forget to mention. 'Hey, man! Work’s really been crazy. You see the new Top Gun movie? Oh! And by the way, if I die, I'm gonna leave you with my kid!' Common that's just messed up!"

You couldn’t deny the oddness of them telling you nothing, but you felt a need to defend your friends, "I-I mean Nat was a planner. She always needed to have a plan and I guess we are part of that plan."

"You wanna walk me through this plan? Are we supposed to Iive in this house together, both sleep-deprived and taking care of a child? Sounds like a compelling psych experiment. Assuming you and I can even afford to pay for this place."

"The lawyer said the mortgage is covered..."

Seresin took no time interrupting you, "Yeah, the mortgage is the least of our worries. What about the upkeep? The utilities, the taxes? You have any idea the monthly on a place like this? Brad was a junior partner. I don't make that kind of cash! And what do you do? Listen to people bitch for a living.

You couldn’t help be offended at his assumption of your work, "I'm a partner psychologist at a private practice. I do pretty well... And I don't listen to people bitch, I help people with real problems."

"Yeah? WeII, raising a child is not the same as listening to adults bitch about their feelings."

"I didn't say it was!"

Seresin threw his arms in the air, "Kids are messy, they bite, they pee on everything. They're basically dogs, except I don't have to worry about a dog Iicking a goddamn electrical socket." Seresin’s hands moved dramatically as he explained himself. "Oh, and pray tell, how does Nic fit in with you meeting a guy, getting married, and having a kid of your own? Have you thought about that? I mean you're cute but a woman with a baby is gonna have a hard time competing for the few guys who don't suck."

You looked up in disbelief, "And what do you know about dating? I'm sure the closest you get to a ‘date’ is your bedroom after picking some girl up at the bar!"

"I know that in the dating world, you wouldn't be considered single. You would be considered complicated, beyond complicated."

"You don't know anything about me."

Seresin didn't skip a beat, "I know that you can't open a childproof drawer."

You were taken aback slightly, "They can be tricky- that's beside the point! Why are you trying so hard to convince me not to help her?"

"I'm thinking about what's best for her."

"No, don't get it twisted. You're thinking about what's best for you!"

"I promise you; she is at the forefront of my mind right now. I'm trying to do what's best for her. And let me tell you, sweetheart, we're not it!"

"They loved Nic more than anything in the entire world. Out of everyone, Seresin, they picked us…" you paused when you noticed Nic starting to squirm in your arms. Her tummy began to make noises and as you pulled her away to get a better look at her, she spit up all over your chest. You tried to take a calming breath looking down at the little girl smiling up at you.

As much as Seresin wanted to laugh, this was the reality of the situation. "Do you honestly think we're what's best for her?" He handed you a towel and grabbed Nic, holding her close to his chest.

《 part 3 》

As always, feedback, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

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sehnsuchts-trunken · 2 years ago

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Nail Polish

Bradley Bradshaw x reader 1k words

summary: You just did your nails. And freshly painted nails mean not touching anything.

got the idea for this one because i did do my nails today and then also dyed my hair and so had to shower and while i was undressing had to pull down my pants with like, my fingertips, and my mind was just going “Bradley Bradshaw would NOT let me do this. he would NOT let me do this.”

top gun masterlist | top gun blurbs

You grunted as you pinched at your waistband, trying to peel the button of your jeans away and not mess up the fresh paint you’d put on your nails - which was easier said than done.

You probably should have just showered first. Done your nails afterwards. But you were stressed, alright, so none of this was your fault. The squad was going to be here in less than an hour and you’d only got off work at six, then had to eat, then had to get ready. In the span of like, two hours.

With a sigh, you leaned your forehead against the mirror above the sink and closed your eyes. You had to get out of these jeans. You’d already spent way too long dwelling on it.

A soft knock at the door ripped you from your thoughts. You looked up - it stood open (you hadn’t bothered closing it) and Bradley was leaning against the frame with an arm above his head, his knuckles resting on the wood, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Need some help there, baby?”, he asked. You huffed.

“I should’ve showered first”, you pouted. “I’ve been trying to get my jeans off without ruining my nails for the past five minutes and so far I’ve done this.”

You gestured at your opened zipper.

It was kind of sad, really, but he knew you inside out, all the most embarassing parts of you, so you found no reason to blush and hide anything.

“You could’ve just asked me to do it”, he chuckled, already moving away from the door and closer to you.

“I didn’t want to bother you.”

Your breath hitched in your throat when he came close enough to touch, sinking down on one knee in front of you. You had to swallow at the sight. One of the best navy fighter pilots in the world, down on his knees for you. It still surprised you that out of all the people on this goddamn planet, you’d somehow managed to find him and keep him.

You’d always joked that you wouldn’t settle for a man unless he worshipped you like a goddess.

Now, as Bradley kneeled in front of you, his hands so gently on your thighs as he worked the button on your jeans for you, as he hooked his thumbs into your waistband, grazing your skin softly, you weren’t so sure it was a joke anymore.

It had been at first, yes. But he seemed to have made it his mission in life to treat you like a queen, and you had to say you were not complaining. No one in your place would.

“You never bother me”, he muttered, pressing a kiss to the exposed skin of your leg as he pulled your jeans down ever so carefully. You had to fight the desire to bury your hands in his hair - for the sake of your nails. So instead, you braced your palms on the edge of the sink and watched him work.

You lifted your feet off the floor when he motioned for you to, shifted your weight when he left a slow trail of kisses up your legs, met his eyes when he stood up and brushed his thumbs below the hem of your shirt.

“Arms over your head”, he instructed and you followed like some senseless robot, “I’ll be careful with your nails.”

He pulled your shirt up, slowly exposing your skin to the cool air of the bathroom, sliding it up your arms - then grabbing for your right wrist, keeping it steady as he slipped it over your hand, not catching any of your nails even once, and doing the same for your left.

Bare in just underwear before him, maybe you should have felt indecent - embarrassed, uncomfortable, naked - but you didn’t. Even under his watchful eye, you never felt any sense of dread, only a pleasant warm haze spreading from your chest through the rest of your body. He was smiling, dropping your shirt and putting his hands to your waist instead, pulling you to him until you were pressed against him, arms crossing behind his neck as if in reflex.

“You’re beautiful”, he muttered, and you could feel his breath on your lips. “I’m so lucky.”

“You’re lucky?”, you chuckled. “You? Bradshaw, do you know how amazing you are? I mean-”

You were ready to ramble on about just how great he was for hours on end (you’d already proven you could do that before, when he’d said something bad about himself once and you’d set him down at the kitchen table and presented a 167 arguments-long list of why he was the absolute best) but he cut you off with a kiss, the words dying on your lips.

You nothing short of melted into him, his body so warm and comfortable and simply perfect around you, fingers snaking up to thread through the hair at the back of his head -

He pulled back.

There was a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. He grabbed for your wrists, pulling your arms back and settling them on his chest instead.

“Careful”, he murmured. “Don’t want to ruin your nail polish.”

And then he was leaning in again and you forgot that you’d wanted to say “Fuck the nail polish”.

You could only think that yes, this was the perfect example of Bradley Bradshaw, ever the gentleman.

#top gun #top gun x reader #x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster #rooster x reader

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bradshawsbitch · 2 years ago

Text

songbird | bradley bradshaw x f!reader

masterlist | part two

i am dedicating this fic of filth to my sweet sweet friend @rolycolysficrecs who puts up with me and let's me scream about linguistics and biting to her<3

description: Bradley and you have rented a cabin for a winter getaway. Maybe the seclusion and beauty will offer new experiences?

disclaimer: explicit smut. 18+ minors dni!!!

warnings: afab!reader, explicit smut, mentions ptsd, mental health mentions, mentions of scars, mentions of stretch marks (m and f), oral (m and f receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampies, body worship (m and f receiving), daddy kink, nipple play, emotional sex, sub space, tears, choking if you squint, minor breeding kink, aftercare, ab riding, slight hair pulling

word count: ~7K

tagging people who might like: @roosterforme @mak-32 @theharddeck @lt-bradshaw @sebsxphia @rhettabbotts @notroosterbradshaw @currentlybradshaw @bradleyssweetheart

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for you, there’ll be no more crying.

The sweet sounds of Christine McVie’s lyrics permeated the air of the small wooden cabin, the light crackling of the vinyl player further emphasizing the serene ambience of the candle lit living room. Rooster was stood in the adjoining kitchen, preparing two cups of irish coffee, currently stirring the hot coffee - the soft clinks of the spoon hitting the sides of the cups soothing you as you sat on the sofa in front of the open fire.

Outside the window, large flakes of snow were falling from the skies, like fluffy cotton balls that engulfed the earth, covering it in a heavy weighted blanket. As you glanced at your boyfriend, your heart ached with love for him. It had been a heavy night and start of the day for him.

Usually you could hardly tell that Rooster had had a bit of a rough go at life, and that his work sometimes put him under immense stressors. He took it in stride, spreading his unconditional joy without abandon. But some days, like this one, he just couldn’t give anymore. And that was perfectly alright. He never told you, but you could recognize the signs well enough by now.

It was December, and the holidays were coming up, which you knew were sometimes a hard time for Rooster. The two of you had barely had any sleep during your first night in the cabin you’d rented for the week - it happened sometimes when there was a change of scenery for Bradley, when he wasn’t on the job.

It was like his body somehow refused to relax, and therefore replayed stressful events to kickstart his fight or flight, just in case. After having lived with Rooster for some time, you’d learnt how to best deal with your partner as he woke up in a cold sweat, or when he laid awake for hours - sleep evading him until the early morning hours.

You knew what it was like to love him through it all. You never tired of holding him when he needed it, never tired of gently wiping his tears away and soothing his frayed nerves. Never tired of talking soothingly to him, never tired of trying to gauge what sort of reaction he would have when he came to. Although you knew he thought you were beginning to tire of it.

You wanted to tell him, much like Christine sang, that it was alright. You loved him. All of him. Quirks, happy and sad, and you could never tire of trying to make him the happiest he could be.

Looking up at your boyfriend as you heard him whip cream by hand for your drinks, you were once again overwhelmed by the feelings that sprang from somewhere deep within your chest - taking in his tall and broad form.

Bradley might be tall and broad, but you knew that he must feel very small right now - and you wanted him to know that it was okay to be small sometimes, it was okay to not withstand and push through it all. It was okay to rest. He could rest with you. But you knew, deep down, that your words wouldn’t be enough to convince him - so you were going to have to show him.

for you, the sun will be shining.

Sitting down next to you, Bradley gingerly put your irish coffees down on the low table in front of the cozy sofa. Sighing softly, he tried to let his body relax into the cushions, his upper body leaning heavily against the backrest - palms going up to rub at his eyes. He’d slept horribly, and he woke you up because of his sitting upright with a strangled gasp that bordered on a groan from his nightmare.

As usual, his too-good-for-him girlfriend had held him close to her chest as he rambled anxiously, keeping his palm over her steady heartbeat to soothe him and help ground him. It always worked, which ticked Bradley off. Of course he was thankful, but he was so tired of not being able to manage it on his own. He’d finally fallen asleep, his head on your chest, counting your heartbeats and matching his breaths to yours, your fingers in his hair, soothing him.

“How’re we feeling, honeypie?” your soft voice broke the silence that had stretched in the cabin. Those words alone had indignant tears burning behind Bradley’s closed lids. Why? Why did you caring so much for him make his chest ache like this?

“I–” Bradley had to stop himself, his voice nearly breaking from emotion, shaking his head and swallowing. Your soft body soon crawled over to him, straddling his bare thighs, settling on top of his boxer-clad lap. At the feeling of your weight pressing against his chest, feeling your soothing hands smooth over his navy blue hoodie, Bradley let out a shuddering breath, a tear slowly falling from his closed lids at last.

“It’s okay to not be okay, you know that?” God, the sweeter you were about his bad day, the more he felt like breaking apart. “I know,” he choked out “I just so badly wanted this time to go well,” Bradley confessed, feelings of shame and disappointment rolling over him like powerful tides.

“I know, sweetheart,” you murmured against his pulse point. “You do know that one bad day does not mean that this trip is in any way ruined right?” his heavy sigh told you that he did not know that.

“Bradley,” the way his name rolled so softly off of your lips had his heart stuttering, and as he felt your palms cradling his cheeks, he dared open his amber eyes to meet your loving gaze. “Every moment I get to spend with you is a moment I love. Of course, I love seeing my beautiful, happy Rooster - but you, Bradley, are the most important.” his girl took a beat, letting the words sink in before continuing “I will love you in every which way you come, okay?”

Was this unconditional love? The feeling of being loved even though you felt wholly unlovable?

“It must be hard, loving me,” Bradley couldn’t help but air out some of the fears that plagued him sometimes when he was on his lonesome, with no one to distract him from his own head. To his surprise, an airy, light laughter fell from your lips as you smiled down at him

“Darling, loving you is as easy as breathing,” your voice was warm with tenderness “besides, I’ve heard that the hardest ones to love, are the ones who need it most,”

A long, ragged breath escaped from Bradley’s throat, some of the tears that had nestled in between his eyelashes slowly rolling down his scarred cheeks as he looked at you. The furrow of his brow was still there, and you reached out to softly let your thumb grace over the crease. He did feel like he needed love. He needed your love, and it scared him. Because if he needed you to feel good - what would he do when you weren’t there anymore?

“Can I show you all my love?” you whispered, eyes flitting fast over his face, as if you were drinking him in, afraid he might evaporate into thin air if you took your eyes off of him for too long. Bradley didn’t quite understand what you meant, so he just nodded.

and i feel that when i’m with you, it’s alright… i know it’s right

Your hands left their perch on top of his shoulders, slowly ghosting down his arms, softly playing with the hem of the bottom of his hoodie. The slight cold touch of your fingertips against his bare lower abdomen had him sucking in a small breath of air, but you just continued further up - fingertips grazing across his abs, the fabric of his shirt bunching on your forearms.

As your palms reached his pectorals, Bradley got the hint and reached his arms over his head to let you remove his clothing for him, leaving him in nothing but his boxers.

Tender eyes gazed at his upper body, and Bradley’s brown eyes held an unreadable emotion within them as they took in the sight of you admiring him. Your smile sent butterflies to his stomach, and he had to take another deep breath to steady himself as your palms caressed the sides of his waist. Slowly, you slipped off of his lap, down to your knees below the sofa.

Bradley was surprised when all you did for a few moments was caressing and massaging his thighs, just settling in between his knees, looking up at him with those loving eyes.

“I’ll love all of you, Bradley,” you murmured, your lips ghosting over his left knee. A spot where he knew his skin was scuffed from the many times he had slid on it to reach a base during baseball practice years ago. It was rather faded, but still visible if you knew where to look. Obviously, you did know. Your ever moving hands had slid upwards, slipping underneath the fabric of his black boxer shorts, softly massaging his upper thighs.

A soft groan slipped past Bradley’s lips as his head tilted slightly backwards at your ministrations. All too soon, your hands disappeared to linger at the waistband of his underwear, inching them downwards. Bradley was all too happy to help you slide them off, and he raised his hips slightly to get them down his legs.

Bradley softly tucked his lower lip in between his teeth at the sight of you kneeling in front of him. He wasn’t exactly embarrassed about the fact that you already had him half hard. However, you didn’t seem to be on the type of mission Bradley had originally thought. You only kept your eyes on his, smiling softly as he furrowed his brow in confusion.

Instead, you leaned forward, letting your lips connect with his thighs, hands placed just above his knees. Your mouth ghosted over his hot skin, your breath leaving goosebumps in its wake. As your face neared his v-line, you let your lips land at the junction of his hip and thigh, and the sensation of the soft touch sent a shiver down Roosters spine along with the softest of pretty moans.

Your nose was tracing along the side of his hip, before you slowly inched your lips and tongue towards his lower abdomen. At the sensation of your tongue licking and softly sucking at the skin near his happy trail, Bradley let out a long, breathy moan - his cock twitching at the pleasurable touch.

“Does that feel good, Bradley?” you hummed softly against his skin, your upper body slotted between his thick thighs, your hands now steadying themselves on his waist, your forearms pressed close to his body as your nose and mouth pressed against the skin right by his navel.

“So good, baby… oh god,” Bradley moaned breathlessly.

The feeling of the muscles in his abdomen tightening and relaxing made a rush of heat flow like a steady, warm stream to your very core, and you bit your lip softly as you gazed up at your blissed out boyfriend. His large hands had rested on your shoulders, where his thumbs gently stroked over the exposed skin where his large t-shirt hung slightly off your shoulder.

“I love you,” you whispered against his skin, your lips sealing your words into the space where they had hit him below his ribs. Your hands soon covered his larger ones, gently guiding one of them so that your lips could press against his palm, and then his wrist, your other hand ghosting over his forearm - fingertips softly touching all of the little scars he’d got from the regular wear and tear of life. Signs of being alive.

You stroked a larger scruff, where you knew he’d gotten burnt once trying to help Mav with his jet, placing a gentle kiss to the mark before moving on to his bicep. Suddenly, the palm of your hand felt rather small as it stretched over his muscle, gripping slightly to feel the soft skin. Bradley was practically vibrating at the sensations you were giving him, his breaths becoming shallow and the occasional sharp intake of air could be heard through the silent cabin.

Lips pressed softly against the stretch marks that had accumulated where Bradley’s bicep met his chest, you hummed softly at the feeling of your body pressed up against his. His warmth seeped into your every pore as you loved him. Kissing his sternum softly, you looked up at him with a soft smile, and you were sad to see his amber eyes filled with an unreadable emotion swirling within them, tears sitting unshed on his lash line.

“Is it too much?” you murmured, concerned, gently cradling his right cheek in your hand. Bradley immediately leant into your touch, shaking his head. “I really like how it feels,” Bradley’s voice was gravelly as he confessed, filled with emotion. Your smile soothed him, and your heart clenched at his answer. Did he mean your touch? Or your unconditional love? Either way, it tugged at your heartstrings.

and i love you, i love you, i love you - like never before

Placing your hands on the top of his knees again, you slowly rose to straddle his lap once more, letting a soft moan slip from your lips as you felt him hard against you. Bradley’s soft release of air, his head tilting back to expose his neck and throat to you, did nothing to alleviate the burning heat in your abdomen.

“You’re so beautiful,” you murmured against Rooster's skin, lips pressed against his left shoulder, where another mark sat upon his skin. This one was larger, a little jagged, and you paid it as much attention as the other marks - giving it a soft kiss before moving up towards the junction of his neck and shoulder. There you ventured to softly let your tongue out to taste the warm skin, gently sucking the tan skin into your mouth momentarily, leaving the faintest of your own marks on his skin.

As you had left kisses up the side of his neck, you pulled back to look into his eyes - pupils slightly dilated and chest heaving slightly, you never thought Bradley had looked so breathtaking before.

“I love you.” the statement was final, and he would have to take that as it was - the truth. It looked as if something clicked into place in Bradley’s eyes, as your thumb stroked the long scar across his throat, sliding up to softly caress the marks on his chin, before playfully ghosting over his bottom lip. Breaking the eye contact with Bradley, you finally let your lips leave butterfly kisses all along the left side of his face, ending up with your forehead pressed against his, lips hovering above his.

“Thank you,” Bradley spoke softly. His large hand had snaked up to cradle the back of your head, the other one settled on your hip. Smiling, you pressed a slow kiss to his lips, wanting to taste him fully. His tongue skillfully met yours in a slow, sensual kiss that took the breath out of you entirely. The hand that had moved to stroke the back of your head had tangled into your hair, softly massaging and tugging as his tongue moved against yours - eliciting soft whimpers and moans from you.

His hands slowly reached beneath the large t-shirt that hung off of your frame, his large, warm hands caressing the cool skin that sat underneath, lingering on the spot just above your hips, gently kneading the skin there, before his hands moved further up. Thumbs brushing against the underside of your breasts.

A soft whimper rolled from your lips at the sensation; even though you were determined that this venture was all about Bradley. So after only a few short moments of feeling his large hands massaging your tits slowly, and a few soft moans escaping from your lips, you softly push his hands away. Swiftly you removed yourself from your boyfriend's lap, sinking down onto your knees in between his thighs again.

“I’m not done loving you,” you smiled a little, and Bradley quirked a brow, a soft smile on his own lips to match yours. “Is that so?” he murmured, gently cupping your chin in his hand, squeezing slightly.

Licking your lips, you slowly sank down onto the balls of your heels, taking in the sight before you. Bradley was sat naked on the large, stretched out couch, head tilted slightly back as your hand wrapped around his now fully hard cock.

“So pretty,” you murmured softly, and Bradley huffed out a breathless laugh, almost embarrassed. Deciding to finish worshiping your boyfriends body as it had started, you pressed hungry kisses against his thighs, working your way upwards. This time, however, you decided to leave tiny little bite marks here and there - teeth sinking into the warm skin softly. Those actions rewarded you with sounds from your lover that had you clenching and almost whimpering with need.

Just before you were about to worship the last body part you had left, Bradley’s hand caressed your cheek lovingly, before moving to settle in your hair. The feeling of his strong hold against your scalp had you whimpering louder, and that familiar feeling of being completely safe engulfed you - as it often did when you were intimate with Bradley. He always took good care of you.

“There’s my good girl,” Bradley rumbled, his voice so deep and raspy you nearly lost yourself to his touch, legs clenching together to relieve the ache that had settled deep within you. His words had fire spreading through your core, up your midsection, settling deep in your chest - his words an anchor and a familiar safety that allowed you complete relaxation, complete surrender and serenity; the very thing you were trying to offer Bradley.

Finally, you pressed open mouthed kisses on the base of his length as it rested against his abdomen. Bradley let a long moan flow from his throat, and you could almost see some of the tension escape out of his body at your touch. Licking up the length of his hardness, you felt all the silky ridges and veins underneath your tongue and hands.

Wrapping your lips around his hardened dick, you slowly took him deeper and deeper into your mouth, tongue swirling softly against the silky skin, letting your tongue explore all the veins and ridges in full. Bradley’s stuttered moan made you hollow your cheeks slightly, sucking him further into your warm, wet mouth. The hold on your hair tightened ever so slightly, and you could feel that Bradley was trying hard not to buck up into your mouth, his hips jolting ever so slightly.

You could almost feel yourself losing yourself in him, as you so often did. That small sliver of resilience almost slipping from you, as you heard his pleasure, felt him throb in your mouth. A small whimper started in your throat, and your eyelids fluttered close to not make it too obvious that your eyes were starting to water and almost roll back from the soothing feeling of having him in your mouth, having him love you and hearing his soft moans envelop you like a blanket.

Licking up his length, you nuzzled for a moment where his thigh met his hips to catch your breath, placing a fluttering kiss to the sensitive skin. Trying so bad to not slip, because this isn’t about you, this is about your love for Bradley - showing him how much he means to you. Yet, Bradley seems to notice - can tell so instinctively what you need, and what he needs too.

Soft, warm hands pull you upwards, close to his chest before he settles you on his lap again, straddling one of his thighs momentarily.

“So fucking beautiful,” he breathes against your skin, lips ghosting over the sensitive skin of your neck, the bristles of his mustache lightly scratching where his lips explored. His hands grace down your arms before they squeeze your waist lovingly, gliding up to softly cup your breasts over the fabric of his worn and soft t-shirt.

A sigh tumbled from your parted lips, and Bradley’s right there, humming softly in encouragement. His hands slowly glide down your waist, to your hips, where he for just a moment guides them to rut slowly against his muscular thigh, drawing a strangled gasp from your parted lips.

“You love me so, so good, sweetheart,” he murmurs as his hands move slowly upwards again, massaging your sensitive breasts, drawing soft mewls and whimpers from you - his fingers occasionally brushing your hardening nipples.

“My pretty baby,” he smiles, nudging your jaw with the tip of his nose to gain better access to the skin below your ear, his lips softly latching on to lick and kiss at your pulse point.

Your needy whine was met by a pleased groan that rumbled from deep within Bradley’s chest, and his naked body pressed hard into yours at the sound, the hot breath that fanned over your neck again making it so hard not to melt into his touch.

“Bradley–” you sighed in protest, wanting to try to hold on to the small semblance of control you had had on the situation just moments ago. But Bradley only made soft shushing noises, covering your lips with his as his tongue slid over your bottom lip before gently taking it between his teeth. After drawing yet another breathy whimper from you, Rooster let go of your bottom lip to whisper softly in your ear

“You take such great care of me, honey… will you let me care for you?”

His teeth gently graces your earlobe, before his lips kiss softly just behind it. In that moment it almost feels like everything falls away except for Bradley. The snow whirling outside the windows doesn’t exist anymore. The crackling fire dancing over the logs in the fireplace are all at once running through your body like liquid water, not actually in the fireplace at all. Though Bradley’s touch resembles the soothing of the cold snow outside that satiates the burn. His hands have snuck underneath your shirt, lifting it above your head and discarding it on the wooden floors.

His lips latch on to your nipples, tongue swirling slowly in circles over the lacy fabric of your thin bra. Head tilted back in pleasure, his name is heard like a prayer to the heavens as it tumbles from your lips.

His large palm is softly grasping your breast, kneading it gently as his mouth works kisses and licks onto the swell of it. His other hand reaches back to unlatch the clasp, gently helping you drag it down your arms, until it joins your forgotten shirt on the floor.

“It’s my turn now,” Bradley hums, the small, but genuinely happy smile on his face making tears burn behind your eyelids. Strong hands lifts you from your spot on his thigh, gently laying you down on the soft plaid that was placed on the seat of the couch. Slowly he lowers himself down your body, his nose teasingly fluttering against your skin, his lips sporadically leading the way.

Soon enough he’s leaning between your thighs, a tight grasp on your calf as he raises it to rest on his well muscled shoulder. There he places a soft kiss, his fingers gracing the outside of your calf, his lips kissing a trail to your knee, where a jagged scar marres your skin from where it had been mended years earlier.

Like you, he gives it a soft kiss of adoration before he continues his journey - stopping to love on the slightly pink and purple toned stretch marks on your thighs. Your breath is unsteady, and you almost feel as if you’re floating - the sensations Bradley is providing the only thing that’s keeping you from slipping.

“Shh, baby, it’s okay… I’ve got you, love,” Bradley murmurs as he settles, his chest resting in between your spread legs, your thighs slung over his broad shoulders as your whines and whimpers of pleas get all the more frantic. Bradley’s hot breath hitting your clothed core has you licking your lips in anticipation, breath stuttering pitifully in your throat. He hasn’t even touched you yet.

“So pretty… is it all for me, honey?” Rooster rumbles, amber eyes so filled with lust and love, connecting with yours; taking in the pout on your face, the neediness of your eyes, the heaving of your chest and your soft whimper as you nod fervently at his question. He groans, the sight enough to have him rutting his hard cock once into the cushions of the sofa.

“Please, Roos– baby, I need you,” your soft plea has Bradley choking on a breath before he presses his lips hard against your lace clad core, tongue darting out to tease the wetness beneath it. “Anything my baby needs,” he mumbles, as he pushes the delicate fabric aside, sinking his long finger into your wet core. A sigh of relief, followed by a small moan rolls from your lips.

“Good girl,” Bradley hums, his lips softly slotting over your clit as his finger pump slowly in and out of you. He’s sucking and licking at you, swirling his tongue with just the right amount of pressure to have you moaning and gasping. Retracting his finger, his large palms massage the outside of your thighs as he buries his face further into your slick cunt, his tongue slowly sliding downwards to tease at your hole, the tip just slightly slipping in and out and around making you grasp Bradley’s locks hard, giving an involuntary jerk of your wrist at the slow waves of pleasure rolling through you.

Suddenly Roosters�� tongue slips in and he’s properly fucking you with his tongue, his stubbled chin brushing against the delicate skin around your core, and his nose and mustache brushing and teasing your clit.

The pleasure that’s building in your core threatens to snap, the heat from the crackling fire seeming to have moved to your insides - embers sparking in your veins as every sensation but the feeling of Rooster fades away. Squeezing your eyes shut, you gently push Bradley’s head away from your weeping core, a soft whine leaving your lips as you do so. Bradley just mouths hungrily at the inside of your thighs for a few moments, before he’s caught his breath and continues his exploration of your body that’s laid bare for him.

Bradley’s hands leave the comfortable spot they’ve had, massaging your soft thighs to continue their exploration. Fingertips ghost over chilled skin, softly tracing patterns into your hips before his palm splays across your lower stomach momentarily.

Mustache and lips pressing gentle kisses that spread warmth wherever they caress. Bradleys lips works against your skin, finding freckles, spots and small marks wherever he can - loving them just as easily as you had his. As his hands found a new resting place, holding tight to your waist, his lips once again lavished over your breasts.

Soft mewls left you as Roosters lips closed around your nipple, his tongue working slowly across it before he suckled lightly, pulling the soft flesh into his mouth over and over again. Gasps and needy moans tore from your chest as your body started to squirm, thighs clenching together to alleviate the flaming desire Bradley had awoken in your body.

Rooster seemed oblivious to it though, moaning against your chest as his palm massaged the base of the breast he currently had sucked into his mouth, his breath becoming shallow as he heard your soft noises and felt the supple skin against his hot tongue.

“Baby,” your broken, needy whine pulled Bradley away from your chest, and at your small whimper of “need you” paired with the slightest pout to your lush lips, had a fire exploding within his chest. He needed to make sure you got what you needed. He had to take care of you, keep you safe, keep you warm, keep you close.

“Shh, sweetheart, don’t you worry, I’ve got you - daddy’s got you,” he murmured against your ear, placing soft, soothing kisses to your cheek, where a stray tear had escaped from your lust filled eyes. At his words, you couldn’t hold on any longer. That tiny fraction of control you held for a moment slipped away and a soft sob shook your chest as you moaned

“Please, daddy,” you weren’t sure what you were pleading for, but desperation ran through your veins, and it seemed as if you could no longer control the soft sniffles and whimpers that heaved through your chest. Bradley’s soft touches, his soothing words touching your skin grounded you slightly, the feel of his fingers entangling with your hair, tugging softly - reminding you that he was there, that you were there.

“Daddy’s here, baby. Relax, sweetheart… I’ll take such good care of you, I always take good care of you, hm?” Rooster murmured lovingly, his lips softly caressing yours, his other palm smoothing your hair away from your face as he looked down at you. Nodding your head, you reached for him, pulling him down so his weight rested on top of you. Nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck, you placed several kisses against the scar on his throat.

Bradley shuddered slightly at the sensation, before his arms wound around your back as he angled his body and turned - so that he was on his back and you were lying on his broad chest. One of his hands slowly reached down, splaying across your thigh - helping you straddle his abs.

“Pretty, pretty baby,” he cooed as you sat up completely, looking down at him bashfully as you sat with your bare pussy pressed against his hard abs. Bradley’s hands settled on top of your thighs, gently rubbing small circles into them - making your core move slightly against his chiseled stomach. Tucking your bottom lip in between your teeth, you let your head roll back a little at the new sensation.

“That feels good huh, honey?” Rooster rasped, the sight of his girl on top of him, softly rocking against his abs for her own pleasure enough for him to let a rough groan slip, fingers tightening on her thighs to help her ride his midsection better.

“Yes, daddy… so good,” the sentence was punctured by a long, erotic moan. Bradley’s hard cock was already leaking from the pleasure of seeing her so blissed out for him, so lost in the pleasure and safety he had been able to provide her through his touch. Waves of pride swelled deep within his chest, and he had to take a deep breath as he pressed your core closer to his abdomen, hearing your soft whines as your clit caught the friction of the ridges his muscles provided.

“Good girl… my good girl,” Bradley rasped breathlessly, easing his hold on your hips slightly, only to wrap his forearm under the swell of your ass - lifting you up slightly. Your hand swiftly reached down, and Bradley moaned low in his throat at the feeling of your hand wrapping around the silky hardness that pressed against your ass.

“Bradley,” you moaned softly as you teased your folds with the thick tip of Bradley’s cock, the slick of your arousal coating the swollen, red tip. Rooster’s breath stuttered in his throat as his hands massaged the globes of your ass slowly, groaning as he felt you enclose him more when he pushed your cheeks a certain way.

Throwing his head back, he wondered briefly if this was how heaven felt like. You looked angelic enough, sat on top of him, beautiful face filled with the pleasure he was giving you, lips slightly parted and brows furrowed as you panted slightly at the feeling of his cock teasing your entrance and clit.

He let you take your time, grinding yourself on his cock, enjoying your soft whimpers as he slipped further and further into your wet heat. Rooster only rutted his hips slightly each time you sank down, and soon you were whimpering and moaning incoherently, the stretch of his thick cock enough to make you delirious. Bradley sat up slightly to caress your cheek, making soft shushing noises to soothe you as you sat still, him bottomed out so deep in you, feeling your sweet cunt squeezing his cock again and again as you tried to adjust to him.

“Daddy!” your soft sob, paired with your quick breaths had his brows furrowing slightly, his one hand softly finding its place around your throat, not squeezing but merely there as a reminder “Sweetheart…” he murmured, “Look at me,” dilated irises found his and he licked his lips softly “Are we okay? Do you need a break?” he softly let his thumb stroke your cheek, and you nuzzled into his palm whilst shaking your head.

“Do you promise daddy?” he asked again, gauging your reaction as you nodded “Words, baby,” he reminded you. “I’m okay,” you whispered “You just feel so good… you’re so good to me,” your voice was breathless but coherent, and Bradley smiled softly up at you, his dark blonde locks making him look rather angelic as he rested against the sofa cushions.

“Take your time, my beautiful honey,” he reassured you, letting his hands glide down your spine, allowing you support should you need it. However, your hands splayed across his abdomen, spread where your arousal was still sticking to his skin.

Bradley again felt you flutter around him, and your soft exhale reassured him. Slowly he felt you grinding your hips slowly against him, not letting his cock leave your warm heat, only grinding it deep into your core. The feeling was overwhelming, and Bradley couldn’t help but pressing his head further back into the cushions, letting soft moans fall from his parted lips as he took in the sight of you riding him.

Bradley slowly started to meet your hips, thrusting ever so slightly against you, his cock barely leaving you before it pressed home again. With one hand resting on your lower back,

Rooster groaned as his other palmed softly at your breast. You keened at his touch, and you tipped over, letting your chest rest against his as you fell on top of him, kissing at his sternum. Bradley wasted no time in tangling his fingers into your hair, holding a steady grip on your hair as you whined happily. He slowly fucked into you, listening intently to every gasp and moan that he drew out of your mouth.

“It feels so good when you fuck me like this, daddy,” you moaned softly in his ear “so deep… so slow oh, god– Bradley,” his name was dragged out as he slowly drew almost all of his length out out of your weeping cunt before ever so slowly letting himself sink deliciously deep into you, the tip of his cock softly brushing against your cervix.

“You’re taking me so good… such a good girl for your daddy,” Rooster murmured, gasps drawn from his parted lips as he ground his cock deeper into you, alternating between thrusting, rutting and withdrawing his cock almost all the way only to sink slowly in again. The sensation was delicious, almost too much so.

Bradley and you had tried a lot of things in bed, you knew each other so instinctively that playing with one another was as easy as breathing - but never had he ever felt so overwhelmed with pleasure as he fucked you slow and steady. Bradley would never have thought that it could be so sensual, so needy, so wonderful. Didn’t think he’d feel his release building up like a slow ember within him, thought he needed it faster or harder - but no. All he needed was you, however you gave yourself to him.

Nuzzling his face into your neck, he dared one hard, sharp thrust before stilling buried so deep in your heat. You whimpered, babbling softly in his ear as his fingers tugged gently at your hair, earning him a drawn out ‘daddy’, so vulnerable, so reliant on him, so trusting of him.

“I love you so much, my pretty baby,” Rooster moaned, one hand resting on your ass to help you meet his sharper, short thrusts deep into you.

“Love you daddy, oh– I’m- I’m so close, daddy” you sobbed, tears leaking from your eyes as you kissed at his pectorals, your tongue swiping over his nipple, teeth sinking into his skin to ground yourself somewhat.

“Fuck baby, me too. Be a good girl for daddy and cum for me? Yeah?” he panted, not speeding up his thrust, but keeping up the agonizing pace he’d set. “Oh,” you gasped as he ground against a spot deep inside your aching core “Please, more, daddy!” you whined, soft moans and whimpers coming closer and closer, your cunt hugging his cock so well as he brushed that spot again and again. He could feel how needy you were, how badly you needed to come undone, so with a soft yank of your hair, Bradley growled out

“Cum for daddy.” it was a demand, he wanted it now. And you, like the good, good girl you were, obeyed his every word, your body reacting so well to his as he drew out his cock and gave a deep thrust that had the rubber band inside your belly snapping, your pleasured cries ringing out in the cabin, your hands grasping his biceps hard as you cried, sniffled and chanted ‘daddy’ over and over again as Bradley fucked himself into you to chase his own high.

“So pretty falling apart all over daddy’s cock,” he rasped as your lips feverishly kissed and nipped at his neck, incoherent sentences moaned against his warm skin “love being your good girl daddy, oh,” moaning as Bradley dared thrust a little faster, breath hitching in your throat as he worked you towards your second orgasm “Daddy, oh— daddy, please, please cum in me! Please fill me, I need you, please,” you babbled, soft whimpers and pouts driving Bradley absolutely insane as you fucked yourself onto his cock, you could feel his cock pulsing in you.

“Fuck, sweet girl, I’m going to cum so hard, gonna fill your pretty cunt with all of me. Gonna fuck a baby into your sweet belly, honey, gonna make you mine,” Bradley growled, and he didn’t know where all of this was coming from, but as he saw your eyes roll back and your body shudder from pleasure at his words his hips stuttered, once, twice, before a deep, long moan tumbled from his lips as he felt himself spurt hot ropes of cum deep into your cunt.

Bradley had never had an orgasm as intense as this one, rutting his hips again and again against your wet core as he kept spilling himself into you.

As he came down from his high, feeling his heart beat wildly in his chest as he panted, he felt your form resting on his chest. He swiftly brushed hair from your face, angling himself so he could look at you, make sure you were okay.

You were still spasming slightly, soft whimpers intermingled with needy cries for ‘daddy’ making him cradle you closer to his chest as his cock softened in you. The feeling of Bradley’s hot seed slowly running out of you had you whimpering again, nuzzling your face into his chest.

“There’s my good girl, so good… you did so well, baby. My good girl,” Rooster hummed, holding you close to his chest as he pressed kisses to your hair and your forehead.

“Are you okay, sweets?” Bradley asked after he heard your breathing even out, and you nodded mutely against his chest, still biting softly at his skin. “Come, pretty baby, should we clean up and maybe get in the bath? Get some yummy drinks and some snacks? How does that sound?” he hummed, looking down into your wide blown eyes.

“Sounds so good, daddy,” you mumbled as Rooster rubbed your arms softly. When he slipped out of you, you made a small noise of discontent, and he knew that you wouldn’t react good to him leaving you right now. Therefore, he gently lifted you into his arms, feeling your arousal mixed with his slowly trickling down his hip as he held you with one arm, grabbing some drinks and snacks with the other before moving to the big bathroom.

Sitting down the food, he swiftly worked on getting the water temperature just right for the two of you, before he gently cleaned you, peppering kisses over you face as he worked, smiling at you and telling you how much he loved you.

At last, as the tub was filled with warm water and bubbles, he gently eased himself into the tub before helping you sit in between his legs - your back resting comfortably against his chest as his arms wound tight around you. Your head was rested on his shoulder, face turned towards his as you smiled. “I love you, so much, Bradley.” you spoke softly, kissing his jaw.

“And I you, baby. Thank you for loving me so well,” he murmured, letting a loving kiss linger against your lips.

#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw smut #bradley bradshaw smut #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw imagine #my writing #smut

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horseshoegirl · 7 months ago

Text

Set Me Alight: Part 8 - Salt and The Sea

📜Everyone has been on a Bob kick lately (I think), so this is coming right when it should! Let's see how Grace and Bob feel about all this. Shall we? 👀

‼️ - +18, Minors DNI, Strong Language, Original Female Character (s), Bradley Bradshaw x Natasha Trace, Bob Floyd x Original Female Character (This is all in their perspective), Third Person Pov for this one, Angst, mentions of bullying, hurt, overheard fights, preventing a panic attack, frustration, and Grace being sad and done with Bullshit.

#4.6k

Part 7 | Masterlist | Part 9

Present Day

Sixteen hours.

That's how long Bob's carefully guarded, carefully constructed walls took to crumble after all these years.

There was an inkling the night before as he settled into his tent, a feeling that knocked once or twice from the inside of his chest. It wasn't there when he woke up this morning or during the trek here to the falls.

But the second Grace raced up behind him, everyone watching Veronica climb out of the water, that feeling returned. It seemed no longer content to sit around and wait for Bob to figure out why it had.

Grace grasped his hand, pulling herself to hide behind his body so she could stifle her giggles into the back of his shoulder. Bob couldn't help the few snorts that shook through his body either. However, he pitied Javy, watching as he tried to console his girlfriend, who was stomping her foot like a three-year-old child over the fact that her makeup had been ruined.

The both of them couldn't say it wasn't an unwelcome sight. They knew what Maeve had done, catching her hooking something onto the loop of Veronica's jeans, knowing it was damn well meant for Jake. Though the pair knew better than to act on it, they imagined themselves holding up a fist to the air, like in the Breakfast Club, silently praising the act of Karma on her behalf.

Maybe even quietly counting tallies next to her name in Bob's traveller's journal.

Maeve needed a win. A big win against one of those two. They weren't going to say shit about it. They only wished, deep down, they could have helped.

But when Bradley had taken her by the arm, leading her way, another knock, this time harder, thumped in his chest. Another followed it. And another, until that feeling morphed into what Bob could only describe as a white-hot pain, burning every nerve in the pit of his stomach.

Bob knew what was about to happen.

While there hadn't been much to discuss, Bradley had pulled all the guys together after Maeve went to bed last night to discuss his proposal. Standing in that circle, Bob realized it had been more of a pep talk than anything else.

Everyone already had a predetermined role—some part to play in helping Nat get to the right spot. Bob and Grace merely had to act surprised, with the rest of the group save Jake, Maeve, and Rueben, when they eventually emerged from the bush, a shiny new ring hopefully on her finger.

It was a horrible plan, he had thought then. He knew—more so than most—that involving Jake and Maeve in such an event would only result in disaster. He even had said as much to Grace when he turned in for the night, climbing into their shared tent.

Grace merely highlighted Nat's inconsiderate behaviour regarding her feelings, turning her back to him as she settled into her sleeping bag. The action was so absolute, so final, they said nothing else about it the rest of the night.

But laying awake, staring at Grace's back, Bob couldn't help but think about it. Grace was right. With all the shit Jake and Maeve threw at each other since the moment they had met, Nat would have to be completely stupid not to realize just how fucked up it was not to tell Maeve Jake would be coming on this trip.

It wasn't the first time Grace brought it up, either. Bob knew how his girlfriend felt about Nat, Maeve, the entire group, their inability to stand up for her, and their failure to separate themselves from Nat.

He'd be lying if he hadn't felt the same at one point or another.

But Bob knew why everyone didn't, why he didn't, and why, even to some extent, Jake didn't either, even if he was more verbal about it than anyone else.

From behind the scenes, everyone tried to protect Maeve and themselves from a fallout with Natasha. Not the fallout itself but the aftermath. At that point, he had rolled on his back, trying to figure it all out from the safety and privacy of his tent.

But who was he kidding? There was nothing to figure out.

Nat's scandal was an anvil, and her history and behaviour were hanging over every person in the group by a single thread. Even in the years since it happened, since they had all left school and Grace and Cora joined the group, it still had everyone in a chokehold.

And Maeve was oblivious to it all.

Bob wasn't sure when it happened, but it became an unspoken agreement to protect Maeve from that truth. So they were burying it to keep the peace—at least, everyone but Bradley. Bob couldn't say what was happening inside his friend's head, nor would he ask him.

But nobody would go out of their way to upset the group's 'supposed' hierarchy—not when real friendships and relationships, whether made with Nat's influence or not, were at stake.

Maeve had to deal with the brunt of it, and Bob would regret it every day for the rest of his life.

No kind words or assurances could help the cluster of nerves swimming in Bob's stomach when Grace hooked her arm through his. Leading him to a section of the pond free from tourists, she wanted to avoid the temper tantrum Javy and Rueben, to an extent, would have to deal with. Seeing fish in the water earlier and knowing Bob would get a kick out of trying to identify them, she welcomed the distraction.

But as the pair searched through their books to match the first fish they saw, the first shout vibrated through the air, and Bob felt like he was going to hurl.

There was no mistaking it for what it was. Nat was, for lack of a better word, shitting on Maeve and Jake. It was loud. It was scary. And no matter where anyone went, it was impossible to block out the noise.

They stood there, staring down at the words and diagrams in their books, no longer interested in the fish, scared any movement or action would have them on a chopping block. Though her eyes blurred, Grace was sure there were no more fish to look at anyway, for they, too, would have felt the noise vibrate against the water and would have been scared away.

At least they felt like they were able to.

When it finally fell silent, Grace nervously reached for Bob's hand. She led them away from the water through a tiny gap in the bush, deep into the forest. She didn't dare stop, walking blindly for minutes until she saw a little nook encased by a massive tree.

Its branches hung low, as did those of the surrounding trees. Each covered the space in a vibrant green shade, offering a safe place from the events leading up to this moment. A giant, thick tree root rested above the ground, and Grace pulled Bob down as she sat upon it.

Neither one spoke, nervous to say anything. Birds, the wind and bugs filled this space instead. It could have been hours, though Grace started to play with Bob's fingers only minutes later. He let her slide her fingertips over his skin and grasp around each finger until she smoothly threaded each together. Over and over, she did this, never once altering her pattern or rhythm.

Grace was trying to ground herself. And for Bob, it made everything that much worse.

It had been sixteen hours to the dot since that first knock in his chest. And while Bob had admitted last night and perhaps now that the trip, the excuses, the group dynamic, Nat's behaviour—was hopelessly warped—the truth was he had known for days, months, maybe even years.

He'd simply shoved it all deep down under lock and key, partly for selfish reasons. Sixteen hours was merely all the time it took for that lock to break and for everything to come rushing back to the surface. Because while the person he loved was hurting on behalf of someone else, it was too silent in this forest, even at this distance.

It was the lack of Maeve and Jake tearing each other apart.

"I think something happened to Jake and Maeve," Bob said in a rough voice, finally finding the courage to speak.

Grace's hands froze, not moving an inch. She lifted her head, eyebrows knitting together. Bob didn't meet her gaze, too nervous to look away from their joined hands.

"It's too quiet," he offered softly. "Especially after that."

Grace also dropped her eyes to their hands, biting the inside of her cheek hard. "She'd be tearing into him right now. Forget Nat. Maeve would clear out the whole damn park with a single shout."

Bob nodded absentmindedly, turning his hand to mock Grace's earlier pattern, a silent gesture to let her know he had been paying attention.

"Or she'd be running off to apologize to Nat, and Jake would be seeking us out, tail between his legs."

"Nat should be the one apologizing to her."

Grace's statement was so blunt and sharp that Bob feathered his jaw. And something in that quick movement made a thread in Grace's gentle heart snap.

She tore her hand from Bob's grip and shuffled away from him further down the log. She swallowed hard, refusing to turn back and look at him as she fiddled with a ring on her finger. When Bob went to follow, naturally reaching for her like it was second nature, she shuffled again.

"No," she mumbled lowly, shying away from his touch. Bob frowned, sliding closer once again, softly calling her name. But Grace only pushed herself up from the log, her fists balled and clenched tight. "No!"

She stomped forward a few steps, not wanting to leave the found safety of their little nook. Threading her fingers through her hair, she paced back and forth, trying to count her breath.

"Grace..."

She spun wildly, her eyes narrowing, her lips pressing into a thin line, and her jaw clenching. "Don't 'Grace' me," she gritted out behind her teeth.

Bob dropped his forehead into the palm of his hand, his elbow digging hard into his knee. "Don't..."

"Don't what, exactly?" she seethed. "Don't talk about 'it'?

Bob dug his nails into the denim of his jeans - enough to feel a pinch through the fabric on his thigh.

The laugh Grace let out was bitter, morphing into a harsh shout. "Come on, Bob! Cora and I might have been the last ones to join whatever fucked up friend group this is, but Nat couldn't give two shits about Maeve! And it's this unspoken thing nobody talks about. Why?!"

"Grace..."

"Don't!" she snapped, stomping her foot, making clumps of dirt fly out in all directions. "I don't care about some fucked up unspoken agreement! I care about Maeve! Don't tell me you don't, Robert?!"

Bob finally lifted his head, though he focused on the way they came, not once meeting his girlfriend's angry stare.

"Bob, so help me... If you say no..."

"You know I do!" he rushed out, shaking his head.

"Then why don't you fucking say something?!" she cried out. "Why doesn't anyone say something?! She's suffering, and nobody does anything!"

She didn't even know she was crying hot, angry tears until she felt one fall off her cheek, a slight cool breeze marking a path on her skin.

"I wanted to. I wanted to, so badly, the first time I noticed it. And you told me not to."

Bob did, and he always wondered if Grace resented him for it.

She sighed, wiping the tears from her face. She paced back and forth a little bit, trying to calm herself down. Because Bob didn't deserve her anger, it was unfair of her to even yell at him in the first place.

Instead, she walked up to the tree, pressing her forehead into the bark, once again trying to count her inhales and exhales.

"When Bradley told me about Nat when he was going to school, I thought she was just a phase. Whenever he called to talk to Dad, I just sat back and wondered. I wondered how long it would take and what the reason behind the break between those two would be."

Grace lifted her head, fixing her eyes on a ladybug climbing the trunk. "You could imagine my surprise when he brought her home for spring break."

She placed her hand on the wood, twisting back to look at her boyfriend. "I never told you this, but I didn't like her the second I met her."

Bob lifted his head to meet her gaze. "Why..?"

"Because she thought I was a threat. That I harboured a crush on Bradley, and I would steal him from her," she shrugged.

Bob's eyes shot up his skull. "... I mean, you two grew up together... did you... ever?"

Grace audibly gagged, adding a few choking noises for a dramatic effect. "He's like my brother, Bob. What the hell?"

He held his hands up in surrender. "I had to ask."

Grace didn't address the remark when she continued, "She treated me horribly that entire week. She sweet-talked my dad and only was nice to me when he was around. Thank God he saw right through her. The second he left, he said that Carole, Bradley's mom, wouldn't have approved. I agreed."

With a narrowed forehead, Bob's mouth gaped open, bobbing like a fish. "Wait... then why did she..."

"Why did she suddenly start inviting me to stuff? It's cause I was dating you. I was no longer a threat. And she acted like she had never done what she did in the first place."

While Bob might have met Grace through work, he was surprised to learn she had grown up with Bradley. How she acted around Bradley bore no resemblance to a long-lasting, familiar childhood friendship. However, the longer he thought about it, the more it made sense—her closed-off and quiet nature when she was around them.

That the first time they saw each other again, all Bradley could manage was a slight nod.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Grace only offered causally, "You'd be surprised at all the stuff that doesn't require your input. Sometimes you gotta leave people to do the lame shit they do and watch them fuck it up on their own."

A ball formed in her throat. "But Maeve... when I met Maeve and saw what was happening, my heart broke. And she is the only exception to what I just said."

Bob knew what was coming next. Like a coward, he braced himself hard.

"You told me not to say anything when I first brought it up. But now? I can't keep doing it. Not after what she just did to them. Not after that."

"Grace... Don't..."

"Maeve is drowning, Bob! Drowning!" she shouted angrily, startling a nearby bird on a branch. "And I can't stand it any longer. We need to find her, grab her, and take her home. Take her away from all this. From Nat, from those two bitches... God, if they gaslight anything else, they could practically set the whole fucking forest on fire."

"You don't believe in swearing, Grace," he deadpanned.

"Maybe I do now!" she cried. "I feel guilty. Guilty Bob! Cause I bit my lip like a good girl when Nat just what? Uses her? Ignores her? Disregard her feelings? Like hell, why didn't she try harder to figure the fuck out why Jake and Meave are at each other's throats?! Or how those two bully the fuck out of her?"

"Maeve wouldn't tell us about Jake when we asked."

"And you don't find it strange she wouldn't?" she challenged him. "Out of everyone in the group, she didn't tell a soul. Why? Why didn't she? Why wouldn't she?!"

Grace's heart was hurting, and she knew Bob truly knew why. He had been around them longer than she had, so there must have been a reason he told her not to. There had to be.

"At first, I thought it was something everyone accepted, you know? That everyone was trying to figure out what had happened between her and Jake. I thought tensions were high because of that."

She blew out a shaky breath, Bob not once interrupting her.

"Maybe it was a fucking game they were playing with each other until they finally worked up the courage to admit they like each other enough to get into each other's pants. Cause whatever the cause, Maeve wouldn't be so goddamn hurt if she didn't care!"

Bob closed his eyes, a huff of a laugh escaping his mouth.

"But last to join the group, right? You have to be quiet. Read the room. Get a sense of how to act and what you can say. Cause learning to fit in with new people, you have to pick up these things. The best way to get along with everyone else. Like how Maeve runs the second Jake walks into the room? How she avoids conversations about him if she can help it?"

Grace blew a raspberry out of pure frustration. "Jake was never the real issue, though. Everyone just made it out to be. Everyone should have noticed how Maeve bit her tongue as Nat walked over her opinions. How Nat derails conversations, not just where Maeve is concerned, but practically with everyone to make it about her."

Grace laughed, shaking her head. "She got the brunt of all of it, and we just... watched."

Grace finally approached Bob, standing before him, though he didn't lift his head from where it hung low on his shoulders. Had he chosen to look up, he would have noticed how the sun finally peeked through the leaves, beams of light breaking the shade, leaving Grace in their spotlight.

"I meant, she invites us all on this trip so we can watch her get proposed to? And she doesn't bother to tell her that Jake is coming along, too? I mean... how selfish can she get?!"

"Grace, this isn't going to solve..."

"WHAT ELSE CAN I DO?!" she yelled, throwing her hands at the sky. "That ship left the fucking dock ages ago."

Bob's eyes fixed on a leaf stuck under a fallen branch at her words. Grace knew from that reaction alone that she had resonated with something within his kind, caring soul.

"I just... can't... I can't anymore, Bob. If I'm the first to take the leap and break up this group, then good fucking riddance. It needs to be done so we all can get some peace."

She slid to her knees in the dirt in front of him, her hands resting firmly on the sides of his thighs.

"How many years have Nat and Maeve known each other, and not once did Nat realize how hard her supposed best friend had been falling? How could she not recognize that, Bob? And how could she continue to force Jake and Maeve together when Maeve just wanted to escape?"

She reached forward to cup his cheek, guiding his gaze to meet hers. While silent rage resonated within them, Bob knew it wasn't meant for him.

"Why did you tell me to be quiet that first time I brought this up? Why do you still tell me, too?"

Bob gulped, forcing his eyes away. Grace stroked her thumb under his eye, encouraging him on. "I don't know what happened, baby, but I don't think it will be all sunshine and rainbows when we return to the group. Not this time. Just tell me, please."

Bob blew out a shakey breath and shook his head. "Because I wanted you to stay."

"Stay?"

He had contemplated all the reasons, stacking them up brick by brick last night, refusing to acknowledge the leverage Natasha could have used against him. But Bob had damned himself with that one word.

Stay—He wanted Grace to stay. Because if he brought this up, if he told her, there was a chance she wouldn't—at least, there was a possibility.

He lifted his chin, staring into her eyes.

Nat's so-called leverage was kneeling in front of him, begging him to tell her the truth. Her eyes were desperate, so much so that Bob knew he was possibly damned if he did and undoubtedly damned if he did not. Grace had chosen her path, and he would steadfastly follow her wherever she decided to go.

There was no ever questioning that.

Bob reached for her sides, pulling Grace close between his spread legs. She let him, hands landing softly on his biceps before they slid down to his forearms. Bob traded his grip on her jacket to hold her hands, only to trace the same pattern she had a few minutes before.

He braced himself and took several sharp breaths before asking, "Did anyone ever tell you about Natasha's so-called scandal? Back in school?"

Grace cocked an eyebrow. "Only what Maeve's told me. Bradley and I weren't on speaking terms, and he'd never tell Dad if she had one. Though, Maeve didn't even know the complete story."

She let Bob turn her hand over and trace the lines on the palm of her hand. "But she shut me down hard after that. Saying Nat worked to put it behind her and move on, so we all should, too."

Bob scoffed. "Always protecting her."

"Bob?"

Bob hesitated, his gaze flickering away from Grace's expectant eyes. He swallowed hard, the reluctance clear in his tight jaw. Then he closed his eyes, leaning over to whisper in her ear, his voice cautious but a whisper.

Grace's eyes widened, and a gasp slipped through her parted lips at his words. She could hardly breathe as he told her the story. And when he was finished, she tilted so far back on her heels in shock that she almost fell onto her butt.

"Bob! What the hell? After everything I just told you?!"

Bob still hadn't opened his eyes, his head hung low in shame.

"I would have never left you over that! Over complete and utter bullshit? Who do you think I'd believe more? Her or my boyfriend?"

"I didn't know. I didn't want to risk losing you."

"You listen here, Bob Floyd," Grace urged, grabbing his face with both hands and forcing him to look at her. "I'm in a relationship with you. I love you. I would have never believed her if she had done that to us."

He kissed the inside of Grace's wrist, a deep weight lifting off his chest.

"God, I want to throttle her."

"I think that's why everyone doesn't call her out. Cause they don't want it to happen to them. Or at least, deep down, I never did 'cause I didn't want Maeve or Bradley to be alone with..."

Grace nodded, letting Bob know he did not need to continue explaining.

"We should try to find her, Bob. Let her know we love her and that we'd follow her. I have no idea if anyone else would besides Mickey and Cora. Hell, I'd even offer to leave with her and get drunk on her Aunt's apple cider 'cause this whole damn trip was a bad idea."

Bob huffed a sad laugh. "It is apple picking season. I bet she'd love it if we went with her."

Grace snorted. "You just want free apples so I can make my apple crisp."

With the tension from before gone and the weight of Bob's chest finally disappearing with his confession, he joked comedically, "Ssshh, don't jinx it."

Grace rolled her eyes, letting the moment pass before offering quietly, "Where do you think she is? Maeve?"

Bob regarded her for a moment before letting out a long sigh. "Considering the lack of voices, Maeve's probably tried to separate herself. Or she made a rash decision and decided to leave alone."

Grace gasped. "What about Jake?"

"Jake ... I bet 50 bucks Jake ran after her regardless."

Her face contorted into one of disgust. "What? Why? Can he not leave her alone for once in his life?"

Bob stood, wiping his hands on his jeans, before extending a hand to Grace. She took it without another word and allowed him to guide her up and off the tree. He revealed yet another truth as he helped her step over the massive root.

"Remember when I went with Bradley and Jake before Maeve hurt her wrist? Jake wanted to show us a fishing spot...?"

Grace winced. When Bob told her what happened, she instantly regretted not being out there with her. Hold up in her tent, she had been working on plans for a museum exhibit. Even if she had to do a little work, she could have at least done it in the company of a friend.

"I found out Bradley's been trying to coach Jake into mending things with Maeve. We might have been giving him some... advice."

Grace froze with her two feet atop the curved piece of wood.

"What!!?" she shrieked, making Bob wince. "Please tell me you weren't the one who encouraged him to keep up the prank thing. Bob, if you told him to scream 'there's a Bear..'."

"It wasn't me! Nor was it Bradley! We just told him to try to talk to her without anyone around. Cause things seem to go to shit when everyone else is there. He just needed to incite her to stay. Make her laugh. Talk to her like a human being!"

"Men," she scoffed, jumping down off the root. "Never go to a group of idiots to do a woman's job."

Bob froze, eyeing her carefully. "Are you calling me an idiot?"

Grace smiled, reaching up to stroke across his cheek. She kissed his lips with a quick peck and leaned back. "Hmm... my idiot, though."

She took several steps back towards the falls when she called out over her shoulder to a befuddled Bob. "You realize if we locked them in a room or trapped them in an elevator, with nobody else around, they'd probably figure it out?"

"How so?" he called back, finally following her.

"Jake obviously wants to fix it. Maeve runs. All you need to do is stop her from running. She'll give in if you provoke her enough, which Jake already does. "

Bob paused, reflecting for a moment. "He doesn't think when it comes to her, does he?"

"Does she?"

When they emerged from the bush, Bob and Grace ran to the first person they saw, hoping at least someone saw either Maeve or Jake. Nobody had. Not until a few minutes later did a couple mention seeing someone bearing her resemblance climbing the waterfall. They also mentioned seeing someone who looked like Nat go up, but she had already come back down.

Grace stared at them in horror. "I'll go get Mickey and Cora," she rushed out quickly, leaving Bob alone to start the trek up the rocky slope. As he did, a million thoughts crossed his mind.

Finding Maeve and Jake tearing each other apart, hoping Mickey and Cora's skills weren't needed. Or the more stupidly optimistic thought - either was trying to find a few moments of peace.

As if.

Or perhaps it was none of those things. Maybe what awaited him above was something far worse than he could ever fathom.

But when he reached the top of the falls, neither Maeve nor Jake were there, and Bob didn't spare the effort to take in the view. Instead, he searched the ground, kneeling when he spied several tracks in the mud.

Two sets, both inherently female, were marked along the river bank in the mud. Bob's eyes followed them until he saw a separate path of them walking back. Then he noticed another pair of tracks, the boot tread clearly belonging to a man. They followed one of the other tracks, veering quickly off into the bushes. They were noticeably disturbed, leaves and branches bent unnaturally, and the longer he followed the underbrush and mud, the more he understood what happened.

Bob set off, knowing just exactly where he needed to go.

Can I just say I love Bob and Grace?

Tag List:

@desert-fern @startrekfangirl2233 @sarahsmi13s @kmc1989 @fanficfandomlove @hookslove1592 @dakotakazansky

@teacupsandtopgun @lynnevanss @dizzybee03 @keyrani

@shanimallina87 @wildxwidow @dempy @stargazer-88 @alldaysdreamer @the-dark-and-mystery @bookchik15

@atarmychick007 @tinytotontheoversizedpony @buckysteveloki-me @wretchedmo

@redbarn1995 @a-court-of-roscoe-and-baby @yuckosworld @wren5650 @mrsevans90 @bellaireland1981 @tgmreader

@halibshepherd @essie1876 @formulafun @memoriesat30 @vicsnook @memoriesat30 @eclecticfashionbookszipper @boisewaffles @eloquentdreamer @jessicab1991

And for those who've been following along:

@i-wanna-be-your-muse @djs8891 @gigisimsonmars @blue-aconite @wildlyfreemoon @eli2447 @rascallyrascalreads @djs8891

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katsu28 · 2 years ago

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🍭 jesus you're hot." "what?" with rooster maybe?? CONGRATS ON 1K 💕💕

thank you sweet anon baby i love u!!! here's rooster being the most helpful boyfriend but still a little shit <3

bradley "rooster" bradshaw x reader, much fluff, 1.1k

Rooster was happy when he got home tonight, still buzzing with excitement from spending some well needed time with his friends after a grueling few weeks of training. He whistled the tune to the song that was on the radio last as he made his way up the walk and let himself inside, locking the door behind him before he did anything else.

Your voice echoed from somewhere in the house the moment the door closed. “That you, Roos?”

“No, I’m a house burglar.”

“You’re hilarious. How was squad night?” Rooster could tell you were rolling your eyes playfully at his words.

“Good. Missed you though. The guys wanna know if you're still doing happy hour with us next week, and Phoenix says you better come so you can be her wingwoman.” He called back, pulling open the fridge to grab a bottle of water before wandering down the hall in search of the love of his life (aka you).

When he found you in the bedroom, you were sitting at the vanity clad in one of his faded Navy t-shirts with your back towards him, but he could see you in the mirror with a shiny looking sheet mask over your face, your hair held up and away from it by the fluffy headband thing you always used whenever you did your makeup.

You caught his eye in the mirror, beaming at him happily. “Thanks for reminding me, I’ll text Nat later.”

Rooster ambled into the room, tossing his jacket on the bed, unloading his pockets on the nightstand, taking a sip of his water. All the while, you were brushing your hair, brow creased in concentration at the task at hand and not at all at him watching you do your thing.

“Jesus you’re hot.” He mumbled, leaning against the doorway with one shoulder.

You tore your eyes away from your moving hands, turning around in your chair to face him. “What?”

“You heard me, sweetheart.”

“I’ve got stuff all over my face, Bradley, I really doubt I’m anything close to eye candy right now.” You chuckled, setting down the brush. Rooster shot you a pointed look.

“Uh, no. Total eye candy, all the time. You could be wearing a trash bag covered in bird shit and I’d still think you’re the hottest, prettiest girl in the whole world, baby.”

“That’s…disgusting.”

“I’m trying to be romantic here, woman!”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry!” You laughed, finally rising from your seat and making your way across the room to him. He was rosy cheeked, warm to the touch when your hands linked around the back of his neck, a hint of beer on his breath as he slid in closer to you. You kissed his cheek, lingering in his embrace for a few more seconds before attempting to wriggle away. “I gotta wash this mask off, Roos.” Rooster let out a groan, sagging back against the doorframe dramatically. “You can come with me if you're gonna be all sad and mopey about it.”

He perked up at that, following you to the bathroom like a lost puppy, and when you grabbed a small washcloth from the drawer, he cocked his head, meeting your eye in the mirror yet again. “Can I take it off for you?”

You arched an eyebrow at him, shooting him a ‘really?’ look.

“Get your mind out of the gutter, I meant the mask.” He tsked, giving your side a light pinch. “Dirty, dirty mind you’ve got there, sweetheart. I gotta watch out for you.”

“Knock yourself out.”

Grinning, he lifted you onto the counter, peeling off the sticky mask delicately so as to make sure it all came off in one piece, and tossing it in the trash before grabbing the towel and wetting it with warm water. Your eyes fluttered shut as Rooster wiped all over your face gently, one of his hands cupping your face to hold your head still while he got all the excess mask off. The stroke of his hand was careful yet deliberate, like everything he did.

He reached for your headband next, letting the elastic of it snap against your eyes and snickering when you huffed and swatted blindly at him. As soon as he’d gotten it off though, he grinned, immediately bringing his other hand up to tuck your hair behind your ear.

“There’s my girl.” He hummed, tilting his head. There was a glint in his eye that he only got when he was gearing up to kiss you, but you clamped a hand over his mouth before he could, tilting your chin up at him.

“Nuh uh. What do I need to do before you do that?”

Rooster’s eyebrows creased in thought, frowning for a second before straightening up suddenly, snapping his fingers in realization. “Moisturizer!”

“Good.” His hand hovered above the collection of tiny bottles on the counter, fingers wiggling until he found the right one. He popped the cap, squirting a decent sized amount into his palm and spreading it around before promptly planting both hands on your face, squishing your cheeks as he rubbed in the moisturizer playfully rough.

“Oh, you asshole!” You spluttered, trying to bat his hands away from your face. He busted up at your indignance, going in again a lot softer this time and making sure he’d gotten every part of your face. Now came the time to kiss you and he did, pressing his lips against yours briefly but earnestly.

“Done and doner. Who’s the best boyfriend in the world?” He nodded proudly when he pulled away, pointing at himself with his thumbs. “I’m gonna save you the headache, because the answer is this guy!”

“I mean, I guess so,” You sighed mock defeatedly, giggling at the way his features instantly warmed into offense. “The best boyfriend in the world would come to bed and cuddle with me until I fall asleep.”

Rooster nodded quickly. “Lemme shower real quick, then I’ll be right there,” He insisted, punctuating his promise with another peck to your lips.

“I dunno, I might fall asleep before you’re done.” You never went to bed without him when he was home, but you loved to mess with him every so often.

“You wouldn’t dare.” He glared at you. “I’ll wake you up again, I swear to god.”

“Hurry up and shower then, drama queen.”

“Ten minutes, tops!”

He was true to his word, squeaky clean and climbing into bed and wrapping you in his arms not even ten minutes later. His hair was still a little damp and curling at the ends, but he smelled delicious, like soap and—

“Did you use my shampoo?”

“...no?”

You squinted up at him, to which he averted his gaze guiltily. "Sure smells like you did."

“Baby, if you didn’t want me to use it, stop buying such good smelling shower shit.”

“You’re the reason I keep running out of shampoo so fast! Oh my god, I knew it wasn’t me!”

“I’ll run to the drugstore in the morning.”

“You better.”

#bradley bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #rooster bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw fluff #rooster bradshaw fluff #bradley rooster bradshaw fluff #top gun maverick #miles teller #kait celebrates 1k!

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topguncortez · 2 years ago

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Key: ☆ full fic, ♢ one shot, ⏃ drabble, ⏀series, ♰ AU

ANGST

✧ Anxiety Attack ♢ Jake Seresin x Female!Reader | Jake has been dealing with the aftermath of the Uranium Mission. warnings: anxiety, panic attacks, self violence (hitting and hair pulling), therapy in the military world is called 'Behavior Health'.

✧ Only for A Night ♢ Jake Seresin x Female!Reader | What was only supposed to be for a night, ends up being more than they asked for. warnings: unplanned pregnancy

✧ Does He know? ♢ Jake Seresin x Female!Pilot | You and Jake celebrate the success of the Uranium Mission, however the result of it was unexpected. warnings: cheating, infidelity, pregnancy, cursing.

✧ Never Forgive You ♢ Jake Seresin x Female!Reader | Your trust and love for Jake is not enough sometimes. warnings: cheating, angst, fighting, pregnancy, heartbreak

✧ Loveless Love ♢ Jake Seresin x Ex-Wife Simpson!Reader | Jake falls in love with someone who could never love him back. warnings: mentions of sex, cursing, heartbreak, mentions of infidelity.

✧ My Protector ♢ Jake Seresin x Female!Reader | Jake is usually subtle in the way he protects you, but he's not afraid to step in when needed. warnings: men, unwanted flirting, unwanted touching, mentions of drink drugging, verbal argument, cursing.

✧ An Ugly Beast ☆ Jake Seresin x Female!Reader | Addiction is a beast. An ugly, horrible, unbeatable beast. But the beast can be tamed. . . if you work for it. Warnings: drug addiction, alcoholism, suicide by alcohol, talks of suicide, cursing, talks about drugs, mentions of overdosing, mentions of physical and verbal abuse

✧ The Final Sunset ♢ Jake Seresin x Wife!Reader | Jake takes you to feel the sun on your skin one last time. warnings: death, sadness, cancer, grief.

✧ Hold My Hand ♢ Jake Seresin x Female!Reader | You get a phone call that no child ever wants to get, and as the "rock" of the family, you aren't allowed to break.

SMUT

✧ Hot Shot ☆ Jake Seresin x Female!Pilot | You and Jake are both two of the cockiest pilots to walk the halls of TopGun, and someone needs to be put in their place. warnings: SMUT, PIV, dumbifcation, unprotected sex, hair pulling, spanking, public sex

✧ The way you shake ♢ Jake Seresin x Female!Pilot | Rooster can't help but notice you are walking a bit funny, and there's a certain blond pilot to blame. warnings: smut, unprotected sex, dom/sub dynamic

✧ Squirt ♢ Jake Seresin x Female!Reader | Jake is determined to make you feel things like you've never felt before. warnings: unprotected sex, daddy kink

✧ Daddy's dumb (smart) girl ♢ Jake Seresin x Female!Reader | Sometimes work becomes too much and you need Jake to fuck every thought from your head. warnings: unprotected sex, choking, sex on the floor , name calling, teasing, tears, Jake is a condescending dom alright.

✧ In the Night ♢ Jake Seresin x Wife!Reader | Jake helps you live out one of your sexual fantasies. warnings: CNC, usage of sleeping pills (melatonin), talks of safe words, vaginal fingering, oral sex (F) receiving.

✧ Two at Once ♢ Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female!Reader x Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw | “How do you feel about two at once?” warnings: smutty, slash pairing (Hangster), dom/sub dynamic, brat taming dynamic, teasing, allusions of sex

✧ Power Bottom ⏃ Jake Seresin x Female!Reader | Jake likes to be in control, even when he's on the bottom. Warnings: pegging, spanking, mentions of Rooster.

✧ The Preacher's Daughter ⏃ Jake Seresin x Female!Reader | Jake's got a thing for the preacher's daughter. warnings: oral (m receiving), corruption kink, unprotected sex

✧ Hangman is coming ⏃ Jake Seresin x Female!Reader | Jake hears you calling for "Hangman" in your sleep, but evil be gone, Hangman is cuming. warnings: CNC, Jake gets handsy while reader is sleeping, fingering

✧ Professor's help ⏃ Professor Jake Seresin x Female!Reader | After hours with your professor turns into more than just a study session. warnings: oral sex (m receiving), throat fucking, dumbification, age gap

✧ Beg for It ☆ Professor Jake Seresin x Female!Reader | Jake makes you beg for him. warnings: teasing, dom/sub relationship, age gap, a lil p in the v moment, masturbation, voyeurism (slightly)

✧ Formal Wear ☆ Jake Seresin x Female!Reader | Jake gets his promotion and you want to celebrate him. warnings: allusions of sex, dirty talk, public sex

✧ Say No to This ☆ Jake Seresin x Female!Reader | How do you say no to something that feels so good? warnings: piv, unprotected (wrap it before you tap it kids), cheating, cursing, sprinkle of Angst

✧ Just Friends ♢ Jake Seresin x Female!Reader | Jake reminds you that what the two of you do is more than what friends do. warnings: smutty, suggestive language, public sex, oral sex (f receiving), Jake can't do feelings

✧ You're Mine ♢ Jake Seresin x Female!Reader | Jake tends to get a jealous when you show off what belongs to him. warnings: possessiveness, suggestive, a bit of Floydshaw (blink and you miss it), cursing, jealousy

✧ The Fundamental Right ♢ Jake Seresin x Bob Floyd | Bob isn't sure what they are doing, but he's pretty sure him and Jake are dating. warnings: jacking off, unprotected sex, mentions of anal sex.

✧ Bite Me, Seresin ♢ Jake Seresin x Female!Reader | Jake didn't want a roommate, but he got one, and now he can't get rid of her. warnings: fwb, someone has feeling, mentions of raw sex, mentions of oral, cursing, masturbation, nudity

✧ Same Ol Situation ♢ Jake Seresin x Female!Reader | You and Jake find yourselves in the same situation. . . however, someone might be developing feelings. warnings: smut, piv, unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), mentions of pegging, fwb, cursing

✧ Take It ♢ Jake Seresin x Female!Reader | Jake can usually handle a bit of teasing, but as long as he gets what he wants out of it. Inspired by the scene where Hangman says his infamous "stop" line. warnings: teasing, age gap, oral sex (m receiving), public sex, head pushing, dirty talk, a dash of brat tamer jake, name calling, spit swapping, hair pulling, cursing, tears.

FLUFF

✧ Spin the Bottle ☆ Jake Seresin x Female!Pilot | how can one game of spin the bottle lead to a confession of feelings?

✧ Tug ♢ Jake Seresin x Female!Reader | It takes every ounce of will in Jake's body to get out of bed in the mornings

✧ Forehead Kisses ♢ Jake Seresin x Female!Reader | Jake helps you when the pain gets to be too much. warnings: chronic pain, arthritis, mentions of needle injections

✧ I Love You ♢ Jake Seresin x Bob Floyd | Bob loves Jake more than he would ever be able to realize. But sometimes those words are said too late. warnings: slight mention of religious trauma, slight mention of homophobia

✧ Speak Now ♢ Jake Seresin x Female!Reader | Jake gets a wedding invite from the girl he's still in love with. Based off of Speak Now (TV) by Taylor Swift. warnings: cursing, break-ups, runaway bride, miscommunication

✧ Untitled ♢ Jake Seresin x Female!Reader | Jake steps up in the place of your son's father, but you never had to ask him to.

✧ Weird Smiles ♢ Jake Seresin x Female!Pilot | You get braces at an older age, and Jake tries his best to make you smile.

EXTRAS

✧ Floydsin as Dads - HC Jake Seresin x Bob Floyd | warnings: pregnancy, mentions of needles, mentions of vomiting, mentions of failed adoptions, labor.

✧ Postpartum Depression - HC

✧ Christmas Moodboard

✧ Professor Seresin ⏀♰ Jake Seresin x Female!Reader | An asshole professor meets a girl who turns his world on its side. warnings: age gap (reader is 21, Jake is 35), cheating, mentions of parental death, mentions of fire, blackmail, detailed smut, power imbalance, slow burn

✧ Bad Medicine ⏀♰ Jake Seresin x Female!OC (Athena) | A wealthy Italian mobster sets up his daughter to marry the head of one of the last remaining mafias in California. The union was supposed to create and heal the damage between two families, but all it does is cause more harm than good. WARNINGS: drugs, guns, stripping, violence, abuse, fighting, prostitution, blood, alcohol usage, mentions of sexual assault, torture, character death, death, cops, stalking.

✧ What to Expect⏀ Jake Seresin x Kazanksy!Female | "Exes can have a baby, right?", a story in which Jake finds himself having a baby with the one person who can't even stand the sight of him. Slow burn, exes to lovers. warnings: pregnancy, vomiting, cursing, eventual smut, mentions of infidelity, fighting,

✧ Opposites Attract ⏀ Jake Seresin x Shy!Wifey | No one could quite explain it, it didn’t quite make sense, how the most arrogant, cockily annoying pilot managed to find some who was the complete opposite of him. But you know what they say, Opposites Attract.

✧ Court of Thieves ⏀♰ Jake Seresin x Female!OC | From a young age you knew that you would have a duty to fulfill, but you never imagined yourself to be betrothed to the Crown Prince of Brinefell. As the war rages around the precious city, is your devotion and love to the crown enough to keep you alive. warnings: arranged marriage, dark-romance themes, smut, cursing, death, war, blood, pregnancy.

#g's masterlists

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callsign-venus · 1 year ago

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I'll Be Home for Christmas | Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader

Description: With Bradley on deployment, you don't find the Christmas season as cheery as usual. The Daggers make it their mission to help you get into the holiday spirit. Cue intensely competitive gingerbread house decorating competition.

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Fluff with a teeny dash of angst. Drinking. That’s pretty much it. Really just self-indulgent, friendship-heavy fluff with lots of pining. Enjoy x

Nat King Cole’s voice dances out of your record player has you put the finishing touches on your cranberry Aperol spritzes. Their cherry warm color makes you smile despite yourself.

You have always loved Christmas, but this year it hits you like a truck – and not even one with a tree strapped on top. All the little traditions that usually warm your heart with holiday cheer feel just plain sad to do alone. You had a tremendous battle with your artificial tree, which fell on you twice. You were proud of yourself for not crying, and in the end you were able to admire all of its eight feet of glory. Then you remembered you had to light the whole thing. Two hours later, you had undone no less than three tangles of light strands, found out two of them were dead (and all your untangling had been for nothing), and had one big cry fest for yourself. Not even a steaming cup of cocoa made you feel better after that disaster.

Wrapping presents for your friends and family, rewatching all your favorite Christmas movies, and driving around rich people neighborhoods to admire their lights hadn’t gone as poorly, but they all made his absence grow harder to ignore.

When Bradley told you his deployment would last through the holidays, you struggled to keep your disappointment to yourself, though you’re sure he could see it shining in your eyes. As much as you would miss him during the holidays, you knew it was worse for him, with only emails and skype calls for comfort – no silly little Christmas rituals to occupy his mind.

“You need help in here?” Natasha’s voice jolts you out of your pity-party spiral.

“No, I just got distracted,” you say, scooping up two of the spritzes and offering her one. “Let’s get this party started.”

Phoenix smiles and accepts your cocktail. She herself had just gotten back from her own deployment, and pretty immediately sensed your holiday ennui. She was the one who suggested this festive evening, and you’ve never been more grateful for her friendship.

While you were listless in the kitchen, she had assembled the most perfect gingerbread house making station you’d ever seen: frosting packed into several near-bursting bags, candy canes arranged in perfect rows, gumdrops with a shimmering dusting of sugar, and a scattering of gingerbread roofs and walls waiting patiently to be dressed.

“Wow, Nat, this looks great.”

“Thank you. I’m sure the boys will mess it up in three seconds flat, but at least you appreciate it.”

As if on cue, your front door bursts open, and a clot of merrily dressed sailors spills into your home, arms stacked with presents for Secret Santa. You point to the open space under the Christmas tree, and quickly your and Natasha’s presents are joined by all the others.

After the presents are unloaded, you and Phoenix are engulfed in hugs. Fanboy is wearing a Santa hat, and he has two in hand that he passes to you and Phoenix, insisting that you put them on right now. You happily oblige, as you’re inching closer to how you usually feel during the holidays now that you’re surrounded by friends. Even Jake is cheery, having rocked up in an ugly Christmas sweater covered with bows and tinsel, which is bizarre yet comforting. You do your best not to think about the person you wish was here most, as the Daggers seem dead set to help you have a great Christmas despite his absence.

“This is for you, our gracious host.” Bob hands you a potted poinsettia. “Thanks for putting up with us.”

“It’s really no problem,” you insist as you place the flowers on the side table by your couch. “I love you all.”

He runs a hand through his hair. “Still, we’re a lot, I know.”

He’s not wrong – Coyote and Payback have already found the spritzes and Fanboy’s popped three gumdrops into his mouth – but you don’t mind. Even when the gingerbread house decorating competition starts. Calling it a competition might be an understatement. The Daggers are more than competitive, especially about inconsequential things. Nobody speaks as they draft their houses in bright white icing and stud them with decorative candies. The only way to get them to quiet is through arts and crafts, you muse as you decorate your house with swirls of icing like snow drifts and tiny snowflakes dotting the roof and walls.

The sabotage begins early, when Hangman reaches for a bowl of peppermints and not-so-subtly brushes his hand over Phoenix's roof, smearing the frosting.

“Hey asshole,” Natasha says. “That’s my house.”

“Oh really? Looks like you got a little smear there.” Jake slides a finger across Phoenix’s carefully piped shingles, messing up her roof even more.

“You’re a dead man, Seresin.” Nat narrows her eyes. She won’t go for Jake’s gingerbread house, she’ll bide her time. You’re glad you’re not Hangman right now.

“Got anymore spritzes?” Coyote asks you.

You nod your head. “In the kitchen, help yourself.”

When Coyote gets up to refill his glass, Fanboy snatches his piping bag and swaps it for his almost empty one. While Fanboy’s distracted, Payback helps himself to the pile of Twizzlers Fanboy’s been hoarding since the beginning of the competition.

“Who is even going to judge these?” You ask almost absentmindedly as you stand a gingerbread couple together at the door of their house with copious amounts of frosting. “We all know whose house is whose.”

There’s a smattering of laughter.

“We’ll figure it out after Secret Santa,” Nat assures you as she completes the retiling of her roof, the eaves perfectly punctuated with peppermints.

Before you can question the logic of that solution, Bob asks for your opinion on colored versus strictly green and red gum drops.

“Hey, no helping the competition,” Fanboy complains.

“What?” You level a heavy gaze on him. “Scared you won’t win if Bob and I combine forces? I would be.”

“I’m just saying, this should be a fair contest,” he says.

You shrug him off and answer Bob, but in the spirit of sabotage, you neglect to tell him about the frosting dried on his cheek.

Even though you’re risking your gingerbread house’s safety, once you’ve finished, you slip into the hall. You refresh your inbox on your phone, and you smile as you see an email from Bradley.

Subject: Miss you

Hey pretty girl. Been missing you all day today. Wish I was there to hang stockings and give you the best mistletoe kiss the world’s ever seen. Don’t forget to hang it – you can leave it up until I get back. Don’t have a lot of time, but I just wanted to let you know that I love you and I can’t wait to come home to you.

Your heart flutters, as it always does when you get an email from him. You quickly type out a response.

Subject: Miss you more

Hey hot stuff. I’ve already hung the mistletoe and have no plans to take it down until you make me see stars under it. I miss doing holiday things with you (you really know how to wrangle the tree), but Nat especially has been helping me through it. Still, I really miss you. All I need is your arms around me and everything will feel right again. Can’t wait to see you again.

You press send and sigh. You never want to complain – it’s Bradley who had to live on an aircraft carrier for months at a time – but sometimes it feels so unfair for two people to be so in love and yet spend the holidays all alone.

You give yourself a moment to collect yourself before you go back to the increasingly hostile competition. Jake has icing in his hair – you know Phoenix is responsible, but her wrath won’t end there – and Payback’s house had a giant fist-sized crater in the roof. Surely unrelated, Coyote’s knuckles are dusted with gingerbread crumbs. You couldn’t help the smile the chaotic scene pulled from you. Especially since your gingerbread house remains in pristine condition.

You thank Nat for watching over it, and she responds with a bright smile. “No problem, I can’t have the boys messing up your Christmas celebration.”

“Hey!” All the boys except Bob protest in unison. Phoenix raises her brows, point proven.

Once all of the gingerbread houses are complete and aligned in a row like a candied neighborhood block, the party shifts toward the Christmas tree. Bob distributes presents to each of you. Yours is an envelope, and you know it is from Nat. Your name is written on the thick, cream paper in Nat’s graceful script, which you know like your own after years of friendship.

“No one can beat my present,” Nat boasts as she catches you studying the envelope.

“Oh we’ll see,” Coyote says.

You swallow down a little lump, seeing everyone around the tree without Rooster. Though you love and appreciate your friends, the emptiness of his presence is almost smothering.

Your mood warms when Jake volunteers to go first. You’re his Secret Santa, and just as you predicted, he loves the smartphone-controlled paper airplane you got for him. He opens it and has it folded in a matter of seconds. He syncs it to his phone, and his first flight ends with the plane crashing into Coyote’s head.

“Durable.” Hangman remarks as he picks up the paper airplane, which holds its shape just fine.

“Asshole.” Coyote replies.

Payback is next, and he gets a bottle of scotch from Jake. You don’t know much about scotch, but from Payback’s reaction, you can tell it’s a really nice bottle.

Coyote gets Bob a navy Aran sweater, which Bob wastes no time throwing on.

“Feel how soft!” Bob says as he smothers Coyote in a hug. Cue three minutes of Bob inviting everyone to touch his sweater – you can’t blame him, though, it is really soft.

Bob’s gift to Coyote makes you wonder how Nat is going to top it. Bob made a crochet version of Taffy, Coyote’s miniature pinscher.

“Thank you, I love it.” Coyote cradles the crocheted dog tight, and you wonder if you’re just imagining the tremble in his voice or if he’s actually about to cry.

“Come on Javy,” Jake says, “don’t go all soft now.”

Fanboy gets a countertop pizza oven from Payback, which instantly becomes one of his most prized possessions based on the sheer amount of pizza he consumes.

“Thanks, man.” He gives Payback a friendly punch on the arm. “You all have to come over for pizza night.”

You all hum in agreement. Fanboy’s pizzas are amazing, and you wouldn’t mind spending another night with everyone together. Well, almost everyone. You swallow down the lump in your throat.

Phoenix opens her gift from Fanboy slowly, as if she’s afraid of its contents. She peels back the shiny green paper to reveal a charcuterie board and a set of cheese knives with wooden handles that match the board. She hugs it close to her chest and mouths thank you across the room to Fanboy, who doesn’t notice because he’s reading the pizza recipe included with his oven.

Finally it is your turn. All eyes in the room land on you, strangely sober despite the freely flowing spritzes. You give Phoenix a quick glance as you slide a finger under the flap of the envelope, but her expression is unreadable.

“It's a…” you say as your fingers graze a satiny band of fabric. “Blindfold?”

You hold it up for everyone to see. Everyone’s expressions are carefully arranged to not convey anything. Not quite the laughter you were expecting. A sense of uneasiness blooms in your stomach.

Nat stands up and takes the blindfold out of your hands. Quicker than you can think, she’s tying it around your head.

“What is going on?” You ask.

She finishes the bow and pats your shoulder. “Just you wait.”

A few suppressed snickers fill the room and make your uneasiness melt into dread. The gentle shush of a door opening and closing makes it worse.

“I swear, if you guys are ‘How the Grinch Stole Christmas-ing’ me right now I will be so angry.”

The silence that falls after you speak is so, so loud. No one turned the record, so even Nat King Cole is quiet. But then you hear it. It’s hard to explain, but you’d know that breathing anywhere. You’d spent many nights falling asleep to that gentle lullaby or hearing it as he held you close in the kitchen, neither of you caring that dinner was burning on the stove.

You rip off the blindfold, and there he is. Bradley. Bradley. Standing next to your Christmas tree, a bow tied around his chest. The Daggers surround him like magician’s assistants, all their hands raised in a sort of ta-da manner.

You leap off the couch and into his waiting arms. He smells like an aircraft carrier and shitty coffee, his clothes rough and government-issued, and his hair cropped a little too close to his head than you know he likes – but he’s yours. He’s yours in the way his embrace consumes you, blurring the line between you and him, erasing the months and miles of distance between the two of you. He’s yours in the way the beat of his heart drums in rhythm with your own. Yours in the way that you are his as well. He lifts you up so your feet dance in the air, pressing kisses to the top of your head.

He sets you down and crashes his lips into yours. He slips his tongue into your mouth unabashedly, and despite your audience, you let him. The kiss is long enough that you start to feel bad for everyone else, so you sheepishly pull away.

“Goddamn, Rooster,” Hangman says, “let the girl breathe.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He waves the comment away.

But you don’t want to breathe. Not if your other option is to kiss Bradley until you’re both oxygen starved. Because you’re starved for him, need to feed on his presence.

Then the realization sets in. Rooster is supposed to be deployed for another month. You wheel around to face Nat. “How the hell did you do this?”

She shrugs. “Loverboy emailed me last week, just after I got home from my deployment. Said he was coming home earlier than expected, and he wanted to surprise you.”

“Wait, so all of you knew?” You pointedly look at everyone, but nobody can quite keep eye contact with you.

Bradley wraps an arm around your waist. “They all did pretty good keeping it under wraps, huh?”

“I would hope so, given our clearance levels,” Jake says.

Everyone laughs, but you’re still reeling. You can’t believe Bradley is here. His calloused fingers rubbing the skin of your back, just under the hem of your shirt. His gentle laugh reverberating against your body, reminding you what wholeness feels like. His lips, slightly chapped (with none of your chapstick to steal on the carrier), murmuring into your hair. You can’t hear what he’s saying, but you know what he means nonetheless.

You’d imagined Bradley’s homecoming as a flurry of ripped clothes, bruising kisses, and mutual insatiable hunger, but this is better. All of your friends in the same room, sharing in this festive homecoming, looking like absolute dorks. Fanboy’s Santa hat sits askew on his head. Payback and Coyote are obviously drunk off their asses (they definitely pregamed the festivities, as Payback has been reduced to giggles and Coyote has actual tears streaming down his face). Jake has yet to realize the frosting in his hair, Bob the frosting on his face. And Natasha is a dork by association. You and Bradley too. But the overwhelming love in the room makes you want to sob happy tears.

Bradley happily indulges you all in judging the gingerbread houses. He gets down to eye level with each entry, runs his fingers along the roofs, occasionally snaps off a piece of candy and pops it in his mouth.

“Very good job, everyone.” He speaks to the group as if you’re all kindergartners, reveling in the building anticipation. There’s never a prize for Dagger competitions, but there doesn’t need to be. Bragging rights is all they need, no matter how menial the situation.

Bradley carefully reshuffles the houses in order from last to first place. Fanbody. Jake. Payback. Coyote. Nat. He purposefully shields first and second place. Only you and Bob are left – maybe the least competitive people in the room – and still, tension is thick in the air.

“And the winner…” Bradley’s voice booms like an old-fashioned gameshow host, “...is…”

He finally slides to the side to reveal your house sitting in first place.

Bob sticks his hand up for a high five. Your hands collide with a solid thunk.

“Not fair,” Fanboy protests. “Rooster’s obviously biased.”

“Come on, he didn’t know whose house was whose,” Phoenix says. “Besides, you weren’t even in the top five, and Payback had a hole in his roof.”

“It’s ok, Nat,” you voice oozes with fake sympathy. “I’d be upset too if I spent so much time on a shit gingerbread house.”

Fanboy’s eyebrows shoot up. “Oh you want to play that game?”

He lunges around the table, and you immediately grab Bradley to use as a human shield.

“Lots of talk from someone who’s gonna hide behind her boyfriend,” he says teasingly.

“I’m not hiding.” You tighten your grip on Bradley’s waist, his hands covering yours. “You can get to me, you’re just gonna have to get through him first.”

Bradley puffs out his chest. “Nobody disparages the gingerbread contest queen. She earned her title by being the best.”

Later, because he can’t keep a secret from you (the only thing that saved the Secret Santa surprise was only being able to communicate through email), Bradley confesses that he knew which house was yours the moment he saw it. But still, that one little detail doesn’t negate the fact that you are the gingerbread contest queen.

And Bradley defends your honor well as you maneuver him from behind to keep a distance between yourself and Fanboy. Eventually, Bob steps in to broker a peace deal to end the conflict. Somehow, you are roped in for bringing more spritzes to Fanboy’s pizza night, but he can no longer dispute the fact that you have the best gingerbread house. A win is a win, and your gloating privileges remain.

Later, when everyone is winding down and glancing at their coats hanging by the door, Bradley pulls you into the kitchen.

“Honey, I think our guests are about to leave.” You try to move back toward the living room, but Bradley keeps hold of your hand. “Please, let’s not be rude.”

He shakes his head. “They’ll understand. They know. They know exactly what it's like.”

You relent because he’s right. Even you don’t know what it’s like. Loneliness has been a long lingering companion of yours, but you suffer her presence at home surrounded by close comforts and your parents a short drive away. For Bradley, for Nat, for Jake, for Bob and all the rest, it’s different. It’s their job. They suffer loneliness with mostly long shifts and shitty food for company.

So you let Bradley chase out his – and your – loneliness in the kitchen. As he pulls you ever closer, his palms flattening you against him, you wonder how you ever survived apart when it was so clear that your souls were really just one.

You break away panting. God knows how long you were indulging, but you just about jump out of your skin when you realize Phoenix is in the kitchen right behind you, pouring herself a glass of champagne.

Your cheeks warm. “Nat!”

“Sorry, didn’t bother me, so I didn’t want to bother you.” She shrugs. “Want a glass?”

You decline, and you and Bradley shuffle out of the kitchen like teenagers caught in the act. Nearly everyone is shrugging their coats on, chatting about the night, when they catch sight of the two of you.

“Now, just where in the hell did y’all run off to?” Jake prods.

You can’t even look at them.

“Just the kitchen,” Rooster says, locking his hand in yours. “Needed to make sure the champagne was still flowing.”

Everyone shares the same knowing look that makes you want to shove them all out the door. Instead, you and Bradley post up at the door like perfect hosts and thank everyone for coming as they slip into the surprisingly chilly night. Then, only you, Bradley, and Phoenix are left.

While everyone was saying their goodbyes, she was sipping her champagne and quietly wiping sugar, gingerbread crumbs, and crusted frosting off the dining table.

“You bitch,” you say as you swoop in to help her clean up. “How come you didn’t tell me as soon as you found out?”

She laughs and takes another sip of wine. “Why don’t you ask Rooster?”

You raise your eyebrows at him. He sheepishly grins.

“In my defense,” he says, “it was a really good surprise.”

“I can’t believe you two.” You laugh. “But thank you for the surprise. It was wonderful.”

You try to direct your gratitude to them both, but something in Rooster’s expression snags your gaze and won’t let go. There’s still an unsatiated hunger heavy in his eyes.

Nat sets down her now empty glass. “Alright, lovebirds, I’ll take that as my cue to leave.”

She gathers her things, and you walk her to the door.

“Thank you.” You give her a hug. Neither of you are super touchy, but your gratitude for her tonight is almost endless. “Thank you for everything.”

“Don’t mention it.” She squeezes you tight before letting go. “Goodnight, Rooster!”

“Goodnight!” He calls from somewhere deep in the house.

“Sounds like he’s waiting for you,” she winks. “See you soon.”

“Get home safe!”

And with that, it’s just the two of you. You expect Bradley to pounce the second the door closes, but he doesn’t appear as you linger by the doorway. Odd. You check the kitchen, living room, and dining room. All empty.

“Bradley?” You call.

“Right here.”

His response floats from down the hallway, from your bedroom.

And sure enough, there he stands in the doorway. Right under the mistletoe you hung up earlier in the week, the biggest grin on your face when you pictured his homecoming some time after New Years, all the Christmas decorations gone except the lonely mistletoe, waiting patiently for his arrival. But now, you can put the mistletoe to good use while Christmas is still bright on the horizon. The warmth of the season bleeds into the warmth of your kiss. Christmas will come as surely as it would have if Bradley was on deployment, but now you welcome it. You want lazy days sipping eggnog and baking cookies. You want late, festive nights at the Hard Deck with the Daggers, getting into pool competitions with Bradley as your loyal teammate despite how disastrous you are at pool, assured in his easy we-lose-together attitude. You want a Christmas morning with presents that don’t matter because the best gift you could ask for has already appeared right by your tree tonight, wrapped in a bow.

“Don’t leave me ever again,” you whisper against his chest.

“I won’t,” he says, “I won’t.”

You both know it’s not something you can ask of him, not a promise he can keep. It’s not fair to either of you to pretend like this will be his last homecoming, the last time you both are starved of each other for months. But right now, it feels good to pretend.

You can’t think long about his future deployments, however. Your worries melt away as Bradley makes good on his promise to give you the best mistletoe kiss the world’s ever seen.

#bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw #top gun maverick fanfiction #rooster fluff #bradley bradshaw fluff

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roosterforme · 1 year ago

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Always Ever Only You Part 9 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: What are you supposed to do when you don't know how to talk to your husband? How is he supposed to love you and your body when you can't even figure out how to love yourself anymore? You watch Bradley leave for deployment.

Warnings: Angst, sex, swearing

Length: 3700 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

When you woke up on the bathroom floor the morning after your promotion banquet, and remembered what happened, you started crying. Your dress whites had been so perfect and crisply pressed. The excitement for your new piece of hardwear had fueled you along. You had forgotten about how much you hated your body right now, at least for a few hours.

Everything ached as you stood up and tried to stretch out all of the kinks you had from sleeping on the bath mat. Bradley was leaving tomorrow. He would be gone for eight weeks. And you didn't even want to leave this bathroom and see him right now.

But when you opened the door, curious about what time it was and ready to pack your back and go home, you nearly tripped over your husband. He was sleeping on the floor outside the bathroom, curled up with a pillow and a sheet. You braced yourself on the doorway so you didn't fall.

"Baby Girl," he croaked, his voice still hoarse.

Your eyes were stinging, and you felt miserable knowing he had slept on the floor, too. But he had ruined your night, and you didn't even want to have to listen to him apologize to you.

"I want to go home," you informed him with a steady voice that betrayed how terrible you felt.

"Can we talk about this?" he asked, getting to his feet and looking as miserable as you felt. "I wasn't trying to hurt you."

You just closed your eyes and shook your head. The sooner you got home, the sooner you could take a bath and change and start to feel better. "I don't want to talk about this right now."

He ran his hand over his face and swallowed hard, and you slipped past him to get your stuff together.

You were back home by nine o'clock. Part of you wanted Bradley to vanish and leave you alone. The rest of you was panicking inside, because by this time tomorrow, he would be gone. And then what would you do? It might be weeks before he could call you. But even though you knew you needed to straighten things out right now, you just couldn't bring yourself to do it.

So you sank down into a bubble bath while he muttered something about taking Tramp for a walk. Good. He was gone now. The house was quiet. And you were left alone to think about how out of control your emotions were. But you decided were allowed to be frustrated that your night got ruined, and you were allowed to be annoyed with Bradley. However, today was also your last chance to see him for two months. And you were ovulating.

So you shaved your legs and got out of the bath. Then you tried to do your normal routine of drying off and applying lotion, but you could hear Bradley messing around in the bedroom. When you wrapped your towel around yourself and poked your head in, he looked up from his duffle bag. "Hi," he said softly. He had his underwear and some clothing in stacks on the dresser. He was packing to leave.

You shifted your weight from foot to foot, your fingernails digging into your palms. Never had you ever, not even once, felt this awkward around him. It was disorienting and unsettling. You couldn't have imagined this if you tried. His brown eyes were sad and apologetic, but he seemed to be holding back what he wanted to say. And you were sure your expression was similar.

You had no idea how to make any of this better. So you blurted out the first thing on your tongue. "You're right. We shouldn't be wasting time. And maybe there's something physically wrong with one of us, but maybe there's not. So I think we should have sex today. While I'm ovulating."

But Bradley didn't budge. He blinked at you and licked his lips. "I'm sorry I upset you. And I really don't know if having sex right now is the best idea, you know?"

It's not like you even wanted to. But you felt like you should. So you let your towel drop to the floor at your feet, because you knew it was impossible for Bradley to feel nothing when you were naked for him.

His lips parted, his pupils went wide, and his breathing was ragged. "You really want to?"

"Yes," you said softly, lying to your husband even as he took a step closer to you. When his lips met yours, you turned your head so that his mustache skimmed along your neck instead. He kissed down to your shoulder, and it felt good. It always felt good. But you had to force yourself to lay out on the bed as he quickly undressed.

When Bradley settled on top of you, he stroked his fingers along your slit and then met your eyes. You knew you weren't wet. You bit your lip and had to hold back your tears.

"We don't have to-"

"Yes," you said, cutting him off. "We do."

Once again, he looked like you'd physically hit him. He just nodded and brought his fingers up to his lips, coating them with his saliva and returning them to your core. You let your head tip back against the pillow and tried to think about your honeymoon or the way Bradley once gave you a hat trick. You tried to imagine being back in La Jolla. Anything sexy. But all you could think about was how desperately you wanted to see a positive pregnancy test.

You hiccuped softly, squeezing your eyes shut as Bradley lined himself up with your opening and pushed himself inside you. He just needed to cum. The sooner the better.

"You okay?" he asked, pushing himself deeper.

You nodded, barely meeting his eyes. "Yeah."

And so he started to thrust as he kissed softly along your collar bones, but after a few minutes, you could tell he wasn't even as hard as he usually was. Tears stung your eyes. You couldn't do anything right. You couldn't get pregnant. And you couldn't keep your husband hard. You couldn't even seem to go five minutes without wanting to disappear into thin air.

When Bradley met your eyes, he muttered, "Sorry."

"It's probably my fault," you whispered, but he pressed his lips to yours and shook his head.

"It's not, Sweetheart." But he had to bury his face against your neck and stroke himself with his right hand until he was hard enough to fuck you while you laid there beyond mortified. And the sound of his soft grunts as he came inside you was such a relief when you finally heard them, you sank back with your forearm over your eyes.

Bradley didn't collapse in bed with you. He didn't snuggle up with you in his arms. You felt the bed dip as he climbed out and went into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

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

It was a long time before Bradley felt like he could walk back out into the bedroom and face you. What was happening here? He had fucked up last night. He knew that. He burst your bubble, tainted the delight you felt when you were being promoted. And he hated that he did that. He was proud of you, and he never wanted to disappoint you. But he'd just disappointed you again today.

You were gone when he opened the door, and he felt relieved. Embarrassment washed over him again. He wasn't hard for you. He was always hard for you. Even at the most inopportune times, he was ready to go just thinking about you. He didn't even need to touch the porn they gave him when he jerked off to collect a sperm sample for testing. He just pulled up one of the videos you and he made on his phone and went to town. Two minutes of looking at your body and listening to your voice and he was filling up that little cup.

"Fuck," he grunted, returning to his duffle bag instead of looking for you. Because he didn't even know what to say right now. Tears were collecting in his eyes as he packed his bag. His stomach was growling for lunch, but he didn't think he deserved to eat anything.

As he put the finishing touches on his uniforms and flight suits, he finally tossed his bag aside. He wasn't even going to be here tomorrow. He needed to fix all of this right now. He hadn't told you he loved you all day, and you hadn't said it to him. Maybe starting there would be a good jumping off place to try to fix things.

"Baby Girl?" he called out as he walked down the hallway into the kitchen. And he was treated to the sight of your beautiful body, gorgeous face and elegant hands. But you were holding the piece of mail he'd been trying in vain to hide all over the house. And when you met his eyes, you looked angry.

"I can explain," he said, holding his hands up in surrender. But that just seemed to make you more upset.

"What the fuck, Bradley?" you asked, the paperwork shaking in your hand. "Were you going to tell me about this? Or just try to avoid all of it?"

"I-" he started before freezing up. Your face was righteous with anger in a way he'd never witnessed before, and he wished he could go back to yesterday and do everything right.

Then your face melted into sadness. "You weren't going to say anything. Were you?" When he didn't respond, you screamed, "Were you?"

He watched you ball up the papers in your hands before you threw them at his chest with as much force as you could manage. He caught the paper ball, heart pounding and skin on fire. And then you rounded on him. "I can't believe you got your sperm tested without saying anything to me about it!"

He sucked in a deep breath. "I was just trying to help," he managed as angry tears flowed down your cheeks. When he took a step closer, you pressed your palms to his chest and pushed him back.

"You didn't fucking help anything! It's all my fault that I can't get pregnant!"

"You don't know that," he said as you shoved him harder. "We don't know that."

You reached out and smacked the balled up paper out of his hand and shouted, "Yes! I do! It's actually my fault. It's a fact. I saw it right there on that paper! Your sperm is perfect. So my body must be fucked up!"

"Baby Girl," he gasped in agony. "Don't. Please." To him, you were perfect. And having a child really wasn't worth seeing you like this. Seeing how you'd been sinking in on yourself over the past few months. But maybe right now you weren't wrong. He didn't even know anymore.

"And you were just hiding the results from me?" you asked, your voice still shaking with rage. "Blaming me quietly?"

"I'm not blaming you for anything!" he said, louder than he anticipated. His voice boomed through the kitchen, and you looked up at him like you didn't even know who he was. Even Tramp had run for cover by this point.

"That's okay," you whispered, your eyes unwavering even though they were filled with tears. "I'm blaming myself enough for both of us."

He looked at the floor. There was nothing he could do to fix any of this now. And you were literally the last person he wanted to disappoint. As he raked his fingers through his hair, he whispered, "Maybe it's a good thing that I'm going away tomorrow."

He heard you sob as you kicked the sperm test results across the room and stormed down the hallway.

You were in bed the rest of the afternoon, and Bradley wasn't sure if you were asleep or not. So he avoided the room altogether as he wallowed in this pain that he brought on himself. And on you.

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

You cried in bed for so long all afternoon, you must have fallen asleep at some point. Bradley's sperm was perfect. It was of higher quality than 95% of men in their mid-thirties. It was ideal for impregnation. The most desirable quality you could imagine.

And you kept imagining it. He'd come inside you hundreds of times. Thousands of times. Countless times. Even since November, he'd put his Grade A sperm inside you more times than you could possibly keep track of.

So, this was your fault. And now you knew it. You tried for hours to think about work or your friends or even the fact that you should have been able to go to brunch this morning to gush about your promotion banquet. But everything was turning to shit now. It was probably time to think about alternate options. Or consider just giving up completely.

But why should Bradley have to give up his dream of being a dad just because you weren't able to give him what he wanted? You couldn't be that selfish. As sleep overtook you, disturbing and hurtful ideas filled your mind. You were vaguely aware of Bradley in the room as the afternoon light got dimmer. You could hear him put something in your nightstand. You heard the zipper on his duffle. But you couldn't open your eyes through the haze of pain and exhaustion.

When you jerked awake in your pitch black bedroom, you heard Bradley's voice next to you. "Are you okay, Sweetheart?"

You reached for your phone. It was after eleven o'clock. He'd plugged it in for you. He must have gotten himself dinner and taken Tramp out and finished packing for his deployment.

And then your heart sank as you reached for him. Bradley laced his fingers with yours, and you squeezed your eyes shut at how good it felt to simply hold his hand.

"I don't know," you whispered, because you weren't really sure. Bradley brought your hand up to his mouth and kissed your fingers. You sighed against the sensation of his mustache on your body. You wanted to keep this feeling alive. This little glimmer of hope. But you muttered, "It's late. Go to sleep," as you withdrew your hand and rolled onto your side.

He was silent for so long, you weren't sure if he was still awake. Finally he said, "I hate leaving you more than I hate anything else. But we'll figure this out. I love you."

But instead of responding, you let him doze. When you both woke up at five to the sound of his alarm blaring, there were several feet of space between your body and his in the king sized bed. You felt like absolute shit. It was hard to breathe as you watched Bradley climb out of bed and head for the bathroom. You knew everything he was going to do: shower, shave around his mustache, apply deodorant. But you didn't want to see it. You went into the kitchen where you had all of the ingredients to make him heart shaped pancakes and strawberries. But you didn't want to make them.

Instead you made some French press coffee and cried softly. You took a few sips and felt like you were going to throw up. You tried to eat a granola bar, but you gagged. You had forty one minutes until the Admirals would start calling everyone aboard the aircraft carrier. Less than an hour until your husband would be away for two months. But even when he cautiously walked into the kitchen in his uniform with his duffle bag, you still couldn't quite formulate what you wanted to say to him.

Because maybe he was right. Maybe you and he needed to spend some time apart. You hated yourself and your body, so how did you expect him to love you right now? And you resented him for the decisions he was making and the things he was saying to you. It felt like he didn't understand how it feels to be you. And then you laughed darkly, because of course he didn't. And you were doing a shitty job of describing it to him. A horrible job of communicating with him in general.

"Let's go," you said, heading for the front door in the old lounge pants and shirt you'd slept in. You felt disgusting, so you might as well just look disgusting, too.

But he headed you off, keeping his hand on the doorknob so you couldn't turn it. "I can't go until I know you're listening to what I have to say."

"What?" you snapped, because that was just a lie. He'd be leaving shortly even if you refused to listen or drive him there. That was just a fact.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ruin your night. I didn't mean to hide the test results from you."

"But you did," you whispered harshly. "On both accounts."

"I know," he said solemnly, reaching for you before dropping his hand to his side. "And I'm sick over it. But this doesn't mean there's anything wrong with you or that I'm perfect. And we can keep trying as soon as I get home, okay?"

"If I even feel like it," you sobbed, pushing his hand out of the way and wrenching the door open. "If you even want to. If you can even stay hard for me."

"Sweetheart!" he called out, running after you as you got into the driver's seat of your car. You'd drop him off in this one instead of the Bronco, just because it would irritate him.

You were turning the key and shifting into reverse before he even had his door closed. You wanted him gone. Now. You needed the silence of the house without him in it. Keeping your tears at bay was impossible, but at least the drive was quiet. Bradley had his hand over his eyes, and his head was tipped back. You saw the way his Adam's apple worked against his neck as he swallowed hard, but you didn't say anything to ease his mind. If you had to feel bad, then so did he.

You made it to the docks in just a few minutes, and you were out of the car right away. You saw Bob and Nat on the dock, waving and waiting for the two of you, but you just couldn't go over there. You didn't want to see them or have to explain why the two of you were miserable.

As you turned to face your husband, you were shaking with tears, and so was he. There was just a foot of space between you, but you hesitated. And it was clear to him that you didn't know what to do. So he just stood there and wiped at his eyes, shaking his head.

"This is not how I wanted to leave things between us," he rasped, and you looked down at the ground. He was the one who kept telling you he wanted to talk, but you kept shutting him out.

When you opened your mouth to try to tell him that you still loved him, he held up his hand to stop you.

"You deserved more than what I gave you, okay?" he whispered, and your tears just came faster. "You deserved the world, and clearly I wasn't delivering on all of my promises. At the end of the day, if I'm the one responsible for all of your tears, then what fucking good am I as your husband?"

"Bradley," you croaked, sucking in a deep breath.

But he just kept going, even though whistles were blowing and his squadron was being called. "I love you so much. I'm always going to. And I'm sorry I'm leaving you like this. I should have tried harder, because you are everything."

Your heart was breaking as he wrapped one big hand around the back of your neck and kissed your forehead. You tried to say his name again, but nothing would come out except a wretched sounding sob. So you reached for him and kissed his lips softly. But then he was pulling away, and you felt bile in your throat.

"I love you." Your voice was so soft and broken, you weren't sure if he heard you. As he joined Nat and Bob, you cried next to your car, overwhelmed by the feeling of finality. You stayed until he boarded the carrier, but then you climbed behind the steering wheel again. You needed to go to work. You needed to go home and change first. When you tried to start the engine, your fingers fumbled the keys. After three tries you screamed and pounded on the steering wheel with your fists.

Your heart was broken, and now you had nothing to show for it except some bruised hands. But as you finally got the car started and headed home, you thought to yourself that at least your day couldn't get worse.

That was just wishful thinking on your part. As soon as you walked inside your bedroom with the intention of taking a hot shower, your eyes caught on something gold on Bradley's nightstand. He had left his wedding band. He never took it off. You couldn't recall a single time he had removed it since you slipped it on his finger last November.

It was cold to the touch when you picked it up. It was supposed to feel warm from being on his finger. You wanted to call him and demand an answer as to why he was going away on a deployment without his wedding band, but you were too scared to hear the answer. And as his words came flooding back, you climbed into bed with the ring held tight in your sore fist.

You deserved more than what I gave you.

Bradley deserved more, too.

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

Well. Now they are both on their own for two months. And I hurt my own feelings. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 10

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@xoxabs88xox

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